#But it feels horrible to pick up my phone at 2 in the afternoon and have absolutely 0 texts since last night

[rosetta-stoned-bitch]

I feel like shit, too many straws on my back and one of them is def gonna break it

[seababehh]

at the end of the day. || chris sturniolo x f!best friend!reader

Hi ya’ll!! I’m back. I finally got time to write - and I definitely am writing about chris this time. Because damn; this man could really suffocate me and I’d say thank you.

This is based off the song End of The Day by One Direction because let’s be honest, that song is a banger and is currently stuck in my brain.

-

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x F!Best Friend Reader

Requested: Yes (send me more i love these ideas.)

Warnings: Angst, fluff all the good stuff. Chris being a jealous asshat, doesn’t know how to communicate. A lot of swearing and arguing! Crying! I made this heartachey because I felt like it. Sorry guys. but don’t worry, there’s some good stuff at the end, let me know if you want me to make it a part 2 with some smut. Best Friendsss to lovers Core!

——

I had awoken with sleep crusted eyes, my mouth dry and the light outside had proven it to be late afternoon. My eyelids themselves were puffy from lack of sleep, and I groaned as I dragged a hand over my face. It was the day I was supposed to hang out with my best friends -Matt, Nick and Chris. They had just gotten back from tour, and we decided today was the day we celebrated Chris for winning the tour and the boys other accomplishments.

I rubbed my eyes, rolling over the side of my bed and grabbing my phone. I replied to a few messages - letting them go through and making my way to the bathroom. Something felt different about today, my body couldn’t decide if it was a good different or bad different. I shook my head - wondering into the shower. I turned the tap on, letting the hot water run and steam up the room.

While under the hot stream of water, I had let my thoughts run as fast as the droplets against my skin. As usual, every individual thought that entered my brain had always landed back to Chris. My sweet boy, he was honestly my world, my best friend, my everything. That’s what they were supposed to be when you were in love with someone right?

Wrong, because it was only me who had this thoughts. This horrible feeling crept up from my chest, knowing I’m only hurting myself by being hopelessly in love with someone who would never love me back.The feeling pained, like an extreme pressure was put on my chest and I was about to combust. I sighed, holding my hands up against my chest and leaned against the wall as my hair began to stick to my body.

—

“(Y/n)!” I heard the familiar voice scream as I walked up the driveway to the Sturniolo Household. Chris had whipped open the door, immediately running over to me with his arms wide and open. I looked at his fluffy hair bouncing under his beanie, the blue eyes that just made me want to scream and that wide grin that was so infectious it started to make mine widen. That familiar ugly feeling of heartbreak had crawled back into my chest, but I squashed it down as I opened up my arms for a welcoming hug.

Chris had picked up up by the waist, spinning me around as I held onto his shoulders for dear life. I shoved my have in between his neck and shoulders and somehow my arm as my legs began to swim out behind me. ���Chris!” I mumbled into the skin, the vibration of my voice obviously sending a tickling sensation down his neck, causing him to loose balance. My eyes widened as we toppled to the grass beside us, a loud laugh leaving both our mouths as we looked at each other. We landed on our backs, breathless but happy. “I missed you.” He said, looking at me with those blue eyes, a pinkie reaching to touch mine as we laid on the grass. This is always what it was, the sweet comments, the flirty looks, the soft touches. Sometimes I had a hope that maybe something was reciprocated.

We danced on that line many times - everyone always assuming that we were just supposed to be together. I had a glimmer of hope appear, looking at his gorgeous face. His smile never left as he huffed against the floor. That horrible feeling came back, and before I could hurt myself anymore I looked up at the sky before jumping up and offering him my hand. “C’mon pretty boy, don’t get all sappy on me now.”

Deny, avoid, leave it. He’s not yours. Those are the words that repeated through my head

He smiled at me with a slight tinge on his cheeks, placing his hand in mind and shoving me slightly, racing to the door.

-

We were all in the study slash office room of the house where we were all hanging out. Matt had sat on the chairs with Nick, shouting and screaming at the game they were playing while Chris and I were watching tiktok’s off my phone on the couch. I had sat next to him, leaning into his side with my legs folded over his and his arm behind me on the couch.

I started laughing at one of the videos that had come up on my for you page, looking up to see if Chris had watched it. He smiled down at me, and it almost made me winded. I hadn’t realized we were so close, and I tried to get my breathing back to normal. He had played with the ends of my hair as we watched, my face burning from the closeness.

I scrolled, an edit of Chris had come up, and without thinking I automatically liked it. “Did you just like the edit of me?” He whispered in my ear, making me shriek in surprise. I almost threw my phone, “I have no idea what you are talking about!” I laughed, trying to block his view from the phone. He struggled over me and quickly took my phone from my grasp. I screamed, climbing back over him to reach for my phone. I had eventually laid myself flat on my stomach across Chris’s lap, and I felt the blush worsen. His hand rested casually on my lower back; dangerously close to my ass. He casually dipped his hand onto the skin under my hoodie and started tracing circles with his fingers. I put my face in my hands and groaned, knowing now that he was comfortable - he was not going to let me move.

-

Eventually - after a few hours of lounging around the living room with the triplets, Nick had the idea that we should go out and actually celebrate. There was an influencer party that we had all been invited too - the only problem being I was in a Fresh Love hoodie and some leggings. “Nick, I don’t know about you but i’m not going like this.” I laughed. I was squeezed between Matt and Chris; my legs over Chris’s and a pillow lodged between Matt and I. Matt smiled over at me, “But dressing like a hobo is the new in, don’t you know?” I rolled my eyes, slapping his arm as we all laughed.

“Why don’t you guys get ready, i’ll go home quick and change and then you guys can fetch me since you coming past me anyway?” I stood up from the couch, Chris quickly following with a friendly pinch on the bottom of my thigh as he stood up.

I blushed at the contact. I waved by to his two clones and Chris followed me out the door. I climbed into the drivers seat of my car, leaving the door open as he decided to invade my space. He stood against the door, crouching down to talk to me properly. “What are you planning on wearing tonight ma?” He smiled, a ghost of a smirk on his face. He reached up and pushed my hair out my face and behind my ear, causing my skin to flush. “You’ll see later - now shoo! I need to go.” I pushed him away and he laughed, leaning down and kissing my cheek before closing my door for me.

I almost wanted to break out and scream - it’s me! I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were 16! Can you fucking see me dying right now! As I watched him stand and look at my car driving away.

-

I stood in front of the mirror at the corner of the bedroom, adjusting my outfit as it clings to my body. I had black leather pants on, and a dark burgundy lace halter neck as a top. I had my white platform converse tied with cute bows on my feet and my hair was cascading down my back.

I felt cute, and I also knew I felt good enough to get drunk tonight. My thoughts, once again, had reverted back to Chris. I wondered what was he wearing tonight, no doubt he’d look as good as always. I applied the last of my lipgloss on, before hearing hooting outside. I heard the holler of Nicks voice before I even got to my door. I laughed, locking with my keys and heading over to the backseat of the minivan.

“Hey guys,” I said with a smile, climbing in. Nick immediately hugged my from my side, making me laugh and complain about my hair. Matt had smiled at me from the rear view mirror and Chris had turned almost 180 degrees in his seat to make some noise. I smiled, ignoring the guilty feeling of loving the boy and letting it stay at the house as we drove away.

—

By 11, the party was probably at its peak. There were people everywhere, and for it being such a fancy apartment, the feeling was undeniable. Nick and I had chased a few shots, while Matt had stalked off and started talking to a few others of our friends. Nick and I had made our way to the kitchen, his hands stuffed in a bag of AirPopped popcorn while I had sat on the kitchen counter. My palms gripped the edge, while my legs swung out under me, my gaze zoned in on Chris. He had a pretty girl next to him - the body language far too intimate for it to be merely platonic. He leaned against the wall, but the little woman’s body had turned to face him completely.

Once again, that ugly feeling was back as I watched them - not ashamed at the stare. No, I wasn’t ashamed, because I’m almost 99% sure he knew what he was doing. He knew we played that game, he knew it. His blue gaze flickered to mine- and instead of looking away he gave me a smug smirk. I felt that little piece of heart in my chest crack. I forced myself to look away.

“Girl, I thought you were getting Mr World Wide Drunk with me tonight - not Lana Del Ray drunk.” Nick complained from my side as he saw the sour look on my face. I pointed at him with the almost empty red cup in my hand. “You-.” I chugged the rest of my drink, slamming it down on the marble kitchen counter next to me. “- are so fucking right! I need a new drink and then let’s go dance.” I hopped down from the counter, reaching over and creating a new concoction to force down my throat. Nick cheered, “Make me one too!”

After about 2 more drinks, Nick and I had made it to the dance floor. The song End of The Day by One Direction had come on- and I started screaming the lyrics. Sure, they were slurred - however I had seen Chris in my field of view on the dance floor; the girl with a tiny hot pink dress following him like a lost puppy. Nick had grabbed my hand - screaming the lyrics with me.

“All I know at the end of the day, is you love who you love, there ain’t no other way!”

As I was shouting the lyrics with the rest of the crowd, I locked in on Chris. It almost felt like time had stopped; and the background was blurring with all the people around me. The look on his face was indifferent. This was one thing that I loved and hated about the man, he was everywhere. That I could always rely on, but at the same time I couldn’t escape him. He was watching me, and suddenly the world started spinning a little too much. When I realized it was another man who had pulled me into his arms to dance, I smiled. He greeted me politely, and even had polite hand movements as he pulled me in to dance. He was actually kind of cute. I turned my head back and looked at Chris, whose face changed from a look of awe, to visible irritation with his arm now wrapped around the random girls shoulders. I rolled my eyes, now moving to place my hands on the new man’s shoulders, he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t Chris.

The feeling in my chest was now simmering, an angry feeling this time. How can he have the fucking audacity to be irritated when he was doing the same fucking thing? I needed to stop being pushed over by his little antics. I looked up at the man dancing, and turned around as his hands followed my hips and their movements. I blamed it on the alcohol that made me feel so many things at once. Maybe I should’ve taken it as a distraction. That horrible feeling coming back, once again. I didn’t know weather to be angry, or finally happy that I’m getting attention from someone that wasn’t the brunette boy I was in love with.

He had smirked down at me, but I closed my eyes and leant my head against his shoulder as we continued to the rhythm. I felt his breath on the side of my neck, but before I could feel his lips, there was an audible crunch and suddenly, I was being ripped away from the moment. My eyes snapped open, watching Chris stand there with a bloody hand and the man I was dancing with had an even worse nose, and he was on the floor. The crowd around me gasped, watching with interest at the commotion.

I was beyond furious. My eyes snapped to Chris’ gaze, who was now heaving and slowly turned to me. If looked could kill - he would simply have died 12 times. He tried to come up to me, but I placed my hand up and walked through the crowd. He called my name multiple times, but with each cry from his mouth just made me want to move my legs a little faster.

I finally made it outside to the parking lot - Chris still hot on my heels. He reached for my elbow, but I whipped around. Angry and confusion flashing through me, as hard and rough as waves against a rocks during a storm. It consumed me at this point; everything coming out and finally coming to the surface. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I screamed at him, the fury that raged through me had my shaking as I pushed a finger against his chest.

His eyes widened - he had never seen me like this before; but I had finally had enough. “What do you think you’re doing Christopher?” I poked again, “What is this? You fucking go off with someone but as soon as I do it, it’s a fucking problem?” I shouted again. His blue eyes just stared at me. Wow, for once Chris Sturniolo didn’t have anything to say. “That was pathetic! Who are you to have the fucking audacity to punch someone I was dancing with, again? Because let’s admit it; it’s not the fucking first time!” I raised my hands in frustration and the slapped against my thighs as I dropped them.

The warmth from my was rising, my skin flushing from the emotions running from me. Tears started to prickle in my eyes. “I’m so fucking tired of it Chris.” I finally whispered, as my anger grew into sadness. I was so disappointed with myself, knowing I should be pissed. “(Y/N)- please. He was about to kiss your neck-.” He tried to explain himself, but I felt that rage again.

“And so Chris? What about it? I have been fucking in love with you for four years! Four Years Chris, we’ve been dancing this fucking line for so long, and I just have to keep quiet and deal with it when you get with other girls and dealing with your jealousy but fuck sakes - when are you going to come to your fucking senses and realize that it’s not just about you!” I rambled; pushing his shoulder.

“I can only take so much, you either want me or you don’t!”He looked at me, his blue eyes softened as he saw the fat tears fall down my cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you, and all the looks, and teasing and flirting and all this time I can’t do anything about it because you’re my best friend-.” I sobbed, but was quickly cut off with him placing his hands on my cheeks. “God, you’re stupid. I’m stupid, we’re both stupid.” He said, looking at me.

I got visibly upset, “Excuse me?” I said, sniffing. He placed one hand over my mouth. “Before you get all ridiculous, you’re stupid because it took you this long to realize I’m in love with you too. And i’m stupid because it took me a screaming match to tell you that i’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” He whispered, placing his forehead on mine.

My hands wrapped around his hoodie covered wrists. I pulled his hands away from my face, “You fucking asshole!” I screamed, but a playful smile had begun to take over my face, pushing him away further and further as a giggle started to leave my mouth.

“What? What now?” He smiled, pulling his arms to his body to protect himself from my soft hits and pushes. “You ruined that guys fucking nose for nothing! As well as my makeup might I add!” I crossed my arms.

Chris had rolled his eyes, before dodging one more hit and grabbing my face once again. Except, this time he had placed his lips on mine. He started to move his lips against mine; and a whole relief just flowed after me. I felt his tongue move against my lip, receiving entrance into my mouth. I let out a little whimper as he walked my back, and I was now pressed against the pillar of the car park.

“He fucking deserved it.” He mumbled against my lips, feeling his body pressed against mine; and his hands now rested on my hips. I ran my fingers into his hair, pulling slightly. Chris let out a pathetic whine, causing him to flush. He pulled away from my and looked down at me. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do pretty boy.” I scanned his face. His lip rolled under his teeth, and he nodded pathetically with a hint of pink dusted on his cheeks.

[klausinamarink]

saw a post from @flowercrowngods asking about steddie going through chronic pain and i thought to give it an attempt. Just a quick disclaimer though I do not personally have chronic pain but I did my best to write it respectively!

Edit: now with part 2!

— —

Eddie should get out of bed.

He’s all too aware of how much of the day he’s wasting and losing by lying down, but his leg is in pain again. And not in a “my leg is full of TV static and I can’t move it for a minute” way. His leg was in the state of fine until I moved to get up and now it feels like the bones are dissolving and my skin is having that falling apart sensation and it’s making this a problem for the rest of my body, which is becoming frustratingly common these days.

It’s totally unfair because he was supposed to start the Hellfire oneshot he had kept promising this afternoon. Eddie had been feeling fine the past three days aside from the usual leg static and itchiness from his scars. He had been getting more good days! He should be outside and interacting with his friends again! 

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not with the agony making its slow travel to his back and the left side of his face now twitching, which created a headache.

“Jesusssss.” Eddie groans aloud. He tries to move further into his pillow, but now the pain is rushing to his torso and pressing against it. Another agonizing spike in his right ear right down to the eardrum. Again, the pain zigzagged to his left foot and his right hand. 

He stayed in bed. He might have wept but Eddie had always been good at crying quietly. He knew he can’t call for Wayne because he was at work and his arms now hurt to even pick up the bedside phone. 

The pain went to the back of his neck, reopening his scars and cracking his ribcage. Maybe not literally, but at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He soon falls asleep at some point, considering there’s really nothing else to do. Then he’s slowly brought back to consciousness by a soft humming and careful fingers brushing through his hair.

“Steve?” He croaks out, opening an eye carefully to see his boyfriend (oh sweet heavens he actually has a boyfriend!!) right next to him on the bedside. Steve smiles  softly at him.

“Hey, Eds, another day?” 

Eddie gives the tiniest of nods, swallowing down a wince from the bare movement. 

“Is it your leg, your hand, or all over?”

“All over. My fucking body hates me.” 

Steve gently tugs one of his locks. “You mean our bodies hates us.”

“Get out of here.”

“No way. I can’t be a shitty boyfriend if I’m leaving you to die alone.” Steve moves to stand up but pauses. “Do you want the towel treatment or-“ 

“Please.” Eddie nearly chokes out.

“Alright, be right back.” 

A few minutes later, Steve is back at his side, carefully and deliberately wiping Eddie’s face with a soaked towel. It’s a weird and probably nefficient method, but Eddie had found that in these days where his body is torturing himself, he needed some sort of coolness for his skin. He couldn’t take off his clothes but the damp towel on his face and hands was enough to ease it.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t stand the Wet Towel even if his muscles ached and his arms burned. Mostly, Eddie would lay on top of him and his body weight would provide Steve much needed ease.

Maybe their own coping methods for the flare ups were weird by medical standards, but they’re both still alive.

Mostly.

“I was supposed to start Hellfire today.” Eddie mutters as Steve brings the towel to his right hand. “An oneshot. Short and fun.”

“I know.” Steve says kindly, “the kids felt that you weren’t coming so Dustin radioed me to check on you.”

“Sweet of him.”

“Yeah, everyone is.” 

“Not as sweet as you, big boy.” Eddie sticks his tongue out playfully. 

Steve smirks, pressing the towel back on Eddie’s forehead. “How’s it now?”

“Not as horrible, but I can’t trust myself to move.” The pain is traveling less but now his ears are thumping weirdly and his leg is practically vanishing with the other parts of his body, numb and barely unaffected. 

“That’s okay, Eds, I’m still here.” Steve gives him a light peck on his cheek where there’s another demobat scar, but smaller than the one overtaking his left side. “I’ll finish soon, but I’m not leaving anytime soon.” 

He says it with a soft squeeze on Eddie’s hand. He smiles back and closes his eyes, relishing on the dampness on his bare scarred skin, trying to ignore the rest of the pain that’s forever settling underneath and deeper. 

[quokkareactions]

Seventeen reaction to jealous s/o:

Part 1

Well this was a handful. I spent so much time writing it and I have to post it in parts because it would be too much to handle for tumblr. Also I only proofread it once so sorry for any spelling errors. Now have fun guys❤️

Seungcheol:

- you were walking in the city

- on your way to the café where you were supposed to meet Seungcheol

- you were waiting for the light to turn green when you saw him standing in front of the café and laughing with some girl

- you've never seen her before

- something might be wrong with you but you immediately assumed the worst

- you were practically glaring at them while crossing the street

- that's when he spotted you

- when he realised that you were angry he quickly connected the dots

- too quickly, you thought (or maybe he just knows you well but whatever)

- he welcomed you with a kiss on the cheek

- "Hey, honey. I don't think you've met my second cousin, right?"

- you were sooo embarrassed and he didn't let you forget about this for weeks

Jeonghan:

- "Are you ready? We have to leave in 20 if we wanna get there in time"

- "Do I have to go?"

- he looked at you with confusion in his eyes

- "I really don't want to watch the make up artist flirt with you again" you whined

- "Wait, are you jealous?" he asked with a smirk

- "I so wanna punch you in the face right now"

- "And I so wanna kiss you and tell you that you don't have to worry about her, because you're the only one for me"

- "Then do that" you said with a smile

- "Meh, we don't have time for it. Get ready fast" and with that he left you alone pouting in your bedroom

Joshua:

- you were sitting on your bed scrolling through twitter and saying that you were annoyed would be an understatement

- every second tweet was about your boyfriend and Joy from Red Velvet

- I mean, come on, they looked at each other for a millisecond at an award show and now everyone is shipping them like crazy

- after a while you turned off your phone and threw it to the other side of the room

- and Joshua arrived just in time to see it

- he was quite surprised

- but anyways he picked up the phone then sat down on the bed handing it back to you

- you took it and threw it away again

- it's actually mind blowing how the phone lived through this without any damage

- he looked after it a loud sight leaving his lips while he turned back to you

- "What did it do to make you this furious?"

- "It wasn't the phone, it was you"

- "Then what did I do?" he asked with raised eyebrows

- "Have you been on twitter lately?"

- "Not really, why?"

- with a groan you held out your hand in front of him

- after a little thinking he took out his phone from his back pocket, unlocked it and put it in your hand

- you clicked on the twitter icon and without too much searching you found the tweet you've seen 2 minutes ago on your phone

- you shoved it in his face and waited for him to process it

- "What the...?"

- "Yeah, it's everywhere" you said with a bit calmer voice

- "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm really, really sorry."

- he hugged you extremely tight and it didn't matter how many times you said "It's okay" he kept apologising

Junhui:

- let's be honest guys, he'd have no idea what's wrong

- why are you sulking alone in your room since you got back from your parents'?

- but what were you supposed to do when he spent more time with your sister than with you

- you loved your sister but she always made you insecure

- and the fact that Jun was chatting with her all afternoon made you feel horrible

- so when he finally knocked on your door an hour after you got home, your tears started pouring uncontrollably

- "Don't cry, bubs. What happened? Did I do something?"

[pbandjesse]

While this blog has always been about documenting my days and years, when something big happens in the world I have always tried to at least make a note about it. And today is one of those days.

At 130 last night a container ship lost power and struck the Francis Scott Keys bridge. Which caused it to collapse like it was made of tooth picks. At first they were saying 20 people could be dead. But right now 6 are missing. And putting that to the side for a moment, this bridge handles 25% of harbor traffic. And the boats in the harbor are trapped. No one in and no one out. The economic toll on the city is going to be outrageous.

So this was on my mind a lot today obviously. Jess would give me updates, since she was at her desk. But today was not all about the tragedy. It was honestly a pretty good day. I was able to be removed enough from what was happening.

I very very much did not sleep well. I struggled hardcore because my hands and arms hurt so much. I don't know if it's arthritis or carpal tunnel. But it was radiating pain from my shoulders down. And it was horrible. I was able to get some sleep but I woke up a lot. So when my alarm went off I wanted to cry. I was struggling. I would give myself an extra half hour and James wasn't pushing me on that. They were tired too.

When I finally got up I went to get washed and dressed. I started feeling a lot better. I went to my desk to do my makeup and that's when I picked up my phone and saw my Aunt Renee texted me to ask if I was okay. And I was like yeah?? And she was the one to tell me what 20 minutes from my house, that a bridge has collapsed. That people were dead. I was horrified.

James would drive me to work so they could have the car. I tried to not spend the entire drive looking at tiktoks about what was happening. But it was hard. And poor James was so tired. We got me to camp safe and James headed to go do laundry. They would come back for me later.

The morning would be spent at my desk. Just working through my lesson plans for the summer. I have the basic frameworks already from the fall, but now I'm filling out the forms they want me to use. And now that all the original info is in there I can start filling them in with more detailed instructions. Which will take a while but that's okay. I'm excited to have solid plans.

We had a lot happening at camp today. Groups that were renting spaces throughout camp. But we would only have programming with one of them. And not until the afternoon. But that didn't stop me from having interactions with them.

I was the only one in the office for a bit so I was fielding people coming to ask for directions. And later someone came to ask where the dumpsters were and they were already struggling to carry the very full trash bag. So I offered to get the gator and drive it over for them. And they were like. Oh my God you're so nice. I offered to get it in the morning too so they didn't need to worry. And plus I like driving the gator to fast.

I would go and take the trash and drive to fast and had music going and it was really nice. Like I just felt like things were good. My body still hurts but I was happy.

I would hang at my desk and eat lunch. And slowly people started coming for the field trip. Nick and Rachel. I took the gator to go set up slow ropes. And eventually everyone else went to set up their own areas.

Around 115 I went up to the hacienda to meet the group. I chatted with some of the adults. They said sleeping was really tough. Fair. The beds kind of suck. But I think they were still having fun, even if they were sore and sleepy.

And the kids were so nice. Sometimes with teenagers I am nervous but this group was so lovely. Like this could be have been really tough but they were great.

I walked them up to ground elements. My first group was small, 5 teens and 2 adults. And we started with whale watcher and they were pretty good at it. They made it for a minute and a half. Next we did the team walk and they did really good on that too. And finally we did low ropes itself and because they were such a small group we just did everything together and they did great. The werde silly and spoke in slang but a lot of fun.

With all the groups today I took them over to the horses for the last ten minutes. And they were so excited. Most of them had never seen a horse before and it was so cute. Every time I brought them over we had 3 or 4 different horses to pet and talk to and I got bumped in the head by some big horse snoots but it was more funny than anything.

I chatted with the adults and a few of them had ridden horses before! And wanted to know about trail rides and I gave them the info I knew. But I hope they come back. The one guy said he wants to take his friend for his birthday. That's so sweet.

The second group was much bigger. Ten kids and two adults. But we did the program the same way. They struggled more with the whale watcher because there were two boys who kept yelling at everyone. But it was fine. They got 25 seconds.

Team wall went good. My cheeks were hurting from laughing so hard. And when we got to low ropes I let them self direct and mostly supervised and that was good. Even if a few times the spotters let their people fall on the ground. Thankfully no one was seriously hurt.

The last group was the rowdiest but was really fun. And their adult was great. They did amazing on whale watcher and they got 3 minutes.

Team wall went okay. Except two of the boys were just very big. And the one did try but was not comfortable getting pulled up and I didn't want him to get hurt so I said he could step away. Even though their adult wanted him to push through, we agreed in the end that he didn't have to.

Ropes went fine. And the boys were having fun. When we were walking to the horse field they discovered I graduated in 2009 and they gasped and went "that's auntie age." Very forlornly. It was hilarious to me. They also did not understand what was "under the horse" and I was like. What? And they point again and I'm like. His bits?? And they were like you cut it off???? And I'm like what no! Horses bits are inside until needed, very discreet. And the boy goes. "He's just like me for real." Teenagers are hilarious.

As we were finishing names had texted me that they were at the office. I let them know where I was but they got a little confused and went to the Glen because apparently that is where low ropes used to be! I didn't know! Elizabeth called me on the walkie to let me know and we had silly banter about how James couldn't pass up the opportunity to see her and how she's a ray of sunshine. Silly.

I was really happy to see James. I was up on the ladder taking the ropes down. James would help me wrap them up and move the ladder. Which is my least favorite part so I appreciated that. And they filled me in on more updates about the boat. It is really hard to wrap your head around.

We walked back to the office, hand in hand. I felt tired, but really happy. James had gotten me a donut for the drive home. And I could see how tired they were and I insisted on me driving home.

And that was fun. After we got back to the office and I collected my stuff and James chatted with Heather and Nick and I told them about how good the groups were, me and James went home.

And it was a fun drive. James yelled at me for going to fast around trucks. I had music going very loud. And I was just happy being with my husband.

We got home and we were both tired. I would get changed and went to lay down. And James went to do their podcast.

At 7 I got up and started working on dying the dress I want to wear for Paul and Sam's wedding. I would also do some cleaning of snail eggs in the frog tank. I found this one piece of plastic in there that was coated in eggs??? Disgusting. I cleaned that thoroughly.

I got a little frustrated when James was still recording at 8. But I tried not to be mad even if I was a little. We were texting about it because it was mainly the other guys just talking about their guys for to long. Like I get it but I cannot imagine their partners are happy about how long they spend on these things. James is going to try and push for the. To have a shorter recording.

James would come down at 830 and made me a salad. They changed the kitty litter. And we talked and hung out at the island. And now we are in the couch. And I think soon it will be shower time and then sleep.

Tomorrow I hope to continue to work on lessons. And in the evening we are going the Fulwilers to see a classic film. Which I think will be fun. I hope me and James can be more rested.

I hope the families of the people who were lost in the bridge disaster are finding support in those around them. The road crew and their co workers. I really hope that we can have more clarity and the state can rally around the city and not treat Baltimore like a punchline.

I love you all. Be careful out there. Until next time.

[hadesforpreswrites]

knowing days

part 2 to sleepless nights

i like this part less than the first. BUT i still really, really like it.

let me know if i should continue this 'series' (?), or even a continuation of this particular arc. i wouldn't mind trying something with other members helping someone through mental health issues. (not curing them, obviously, but helping them)

thank you for reading!

pairing: kim namjoon x unnamed female character

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends-to-lovers

warnings: idiots-to-lovers, fear, insecurity

word count: 1,664

summary: after a night of insomnia, the two friends make a revelation

it was late afternoon when she awoke, probably 3pm. she didn’t expect to find herself still curled up against him. she didn’t expect him to still be asleep, let alone still in bed with her. it didn’t matter that it happened like this every time, she always expected him to at least move to the living room, if not leave entirely; but he never did.

she lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest, and looked at him. he was still asleep, looking so at peace. she sighed contently. she was happy that she finally was able to sleep but her favorite part was waking up to see him first thing. it was something she, honestly, wished she could see everyday. 

he must have felt her stare on him because he began to stir. “hey,” he said, eyes still closed.

“hey,” she replied, softly. 

“how did you sleep?” he brought his free hand up to smooth her hair.

she closed her eyes at the feeling, “wonderfully.” and it was true, once she finally fell asleep she slept so good; she always thought it was because of him.

“good. me too,” he finally opened his eyes and was looking at her. she looked so much better than last night, having finally rested. she didn’t look like she was on the edge of something horrible.

“good,” she said, opening her eyes again to look at him. she let a soft smile form on her lips as they stared at each other.

anyone looking in on the scene would think they were two people completely in love. they’d be right, of course; but, they didn’t know that about each other. 

“you hungry?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“yeah. but i’m comfy,” she pouted, causing him to chuckle.

“gotta eat, babe.”

“where’s your phone?”

he pulled his phone out of his sweatpants’ pocket and handed it to her. her heart fluttered at seeing a picture of the two of them as his lock screen when she put in the code and searched for the doordash app. she pick out her food from one of his favorite places and passed him the phone. while he pick out his order, she watched him with a fondness in her gaze.

“what?” he asked after placing the order. he didn’t miss the way her eyes looked before shifting into a more guilty look, having been caught staring, and felt hope bloom in his chest.

“nothing,” she said, setting her head back down on his chest.

“tell me what you’re thinking,” he goaded.

“you’re just so damn good-looking, it’s unfair,” she grumbled. it was a half-truth in that he was good-looking but that wasn’t what she was thinking, not completely anyway.

he laughed, a blush creeping up his neck as it always did when she complimented him. “while i appreciate the compliment, i know that’s not what’s on your mind.”

it was her turn to blush. “i can’t tell you,” she sighed, frustrated at herself.

“why not?” 

“because if i tell you,” she looked up at him again. “everything will change. and what if it’s for the worse?”

“what if it’s for the better?” he all but whispered, eyes not leaving hers.

“but what if it’s not and i fuck everything up and you stop being my friend?” 

“have i done something to make you think you could ever get rid of me?” he was taken aback by her worries, but that hope that was blooming in his chest continued to grow. 

“no,” her eyes glanced down in shame.

“okay then. what secret are you keeping from me?”

“i think…” she trailed off. “i think…iwanttobemorethanjustfriends.” the words came out in a rush.

his face broke out into the biggest smile he thinks he’s ever made. “what was that?” he feigned hard of hearing.

she blew air out through her mouth. “i said ‘i want to be more than just friends’.” she couldn’t fully describe it but it felt like a weight had just shifted off of her chest. 

“hey, look at me,” he said, softly.

she complied and was met with his smiling face.

“i’ve had the biggest crush on you since the day we met. hell, i’ve been so in love with you since almost the same day.”

“i-“ the doorbell cut her off.

“leave it,” he pleaded with her.

“it’ll get cold, c’mon,” she said, pulling herself away from him. the pair felt cold where they were no longer touching. “it’s not like we can’t talk while we eat.” she held her hand out to him after she got her feet on the ground. 

after grabbing their food from the front door, they sat on the floor at the coffee table in her living room, facing each other. they ate in silence for a few minutes before either of them could think of anything to say, their confessions still hanging between them.

“when did you know?” he finally asked. 

“do you remember the first time i called you in the middle of the night?”

he did. it was when he and the rest of the guys had been in the u.s. for a bit. 

“you offered to book a flight right then to come home to be with me.”

“and you told me it was ridiculous to even think that.”

“because it was! you have responsibilities.” 

“i do,” he agreed. “but i’m also your friend. when we got off the phone that time, the guys agreed that we should just ditch and come home for you.”

she laughed. “they just wanted to come home, point-blank-period. i remember that trip being a particularly rough one.”

he laughed with her. “oh for sure, yeah. but don’t get it twisted, those guys genuinely care for you. bangtan are your number one fans.”

she laughed again. “who would’ve thought we’d be here? a chance meeting turned in to a lifelong friendship.”

“i kinda had a feeling in that moment,” he admitted. “i decided that i was not about to let you walk away and out of my life. the guys actually tried to stop me because, and i quote, ‘it’s creepy’ to just ask someone for their number that you just met.”

“it was strange. nothing like that had ever happened to me before, it was like a movie. but i wouldn’t say it was creepy, they’re dramatic,” she chuckled.

he gave her a knowing look. he knew all too well how dramatic they could be, he had lived with them.

“it was even more crazy to me because i barely spoke any korean at the time; i was just visiting scarlett.” 

“worst six months of my life when you were back in the states, trying to decide if you’d move here or not.”

“dramatic.”

“ask one of the guys, i kid you not, i was moping around all the time.”

“what a dramatic reaction to have for someone you barely knew,” she laughed again.

“a someone who i was quickly falling in love with,” he corrected her, causing her to blush more deeply than before.

“why didn’t you say anything earlier?” she asked.

“why didn’t you?” he countered. 

“fear,” she answered simply, almost like it should’ve been obvious.

he gave her a look that said he had the same answer.

the pair continued to eat for a few minutes before either of them spoke again. 

“you know, yoongi and scarlett wanted me to tell you a long time ago,” she confessed.

he stopped eating, utensils inches from his mouth. he slowly set them back down and said, “those assholes knew?!”

“well, of course scarlett knew. besides you, i tell her everything.”

“and yoongi?” 

“overheard her teasing me about it. but you know him, he probably already knew.”

namjoon shook his head with a small smile. “i’m mostly shocked because they knew about my crush on you.”

her eyes went wide. “those assholes,” she repeated his words. “i bet everyone knew,” she thought out loud, mostly to herself.

“i think they definitely had a hunch. you’re the only friend i call ‘babe.’”

she blushed deeply. she felt like an idiot. that should’ve been a clue but she was choosing to not see it. she was choosing to keep herself in the friend-zone so as to not lose said friend.

“can i ask you something?” she said suddenly.

he raised his eyebrow, “of course.”

“how did you know you loved me?” she was shy in her questioning.

he thought about it, how to put it into words. “i guess i didn’t know until someone pointed it out. they noticed little things about me had changed after i started talking to you. i smiled more, especially in the mornings and right before bed, ‘cause timezones are the worst. i worried every time it was the middle of the day here when you’d message me, before i knew what was going on — not that i worry less now. they noticed that i remembered things you liked and didn’t like more than i remembered what the guys do. i started listening to different music — music you recommended. i mean, why would i listen to the doors before? i hadn’t heard of them. just little things and when yoongi pointed it out, i denied it, vehemently, because of that same fear you had.”

“we’re dumb,” she said, simply. “we’re smart. but we’re dumb.”

he laughed loudly. “that’s what yoongi said to me too.”

“i didn’t read all those things as you loving me like that; which makes me dumb. even scarlett refused to listen to the doors on her own before i played them for her.”

he shot her a look. “i mean that was, honestly, your first clue.”

“no, my first clue was you calling me ‘babe.’”

“you’re right. how did you miss that?” 

she shot him a look that said: are you serious? causing him to laugh again.

“so…” she trailed off. “what do we do now?” 

[elprupneerg]

ranting a bunch, my family's a mess

after last time i stayed over at my parents' house i swore it would be the last time (teddy bear on bed had cat piss smell soaked in, bed had spiders under the blankets, i'm allergic to at least 2 animals there and also cigarette smoke). but i let myself get drafted into helping watch over the animals for 1 night next week since my parents were heading to a family reunion early and needed someone to give one of the dogs seizure medication. and also then when my sibling drove down to the reunion the next morning they would only have to add 5 extra minutes to the drive to pick me up instead of 30+ like they would if i were home.

i only agreed to stay that one night because it would Only be One Night. ONE. on the way back from the reunion my sibling is going to drop me off at home. and one of the 3 of them that actually fucking lives in my hometown would take care of the dogs until my parents came back the next afternoon. someone who isn't as allergic to the animals and smoke and doesn't have to sleep in a guest bed that smells like cat urine and spiders and wouldn't be lowkey trapped in the house with no car.

instead i got to spend time on the phone today getting ranted at by my mother about how her and my dad are Always There For You Kids But When We Need You We Don't Get Any Help. (nevermind that i genuinely can't recall the last time mom was there for me. dad? absolutely, dude's got everyone's back. he doesn't talk about feelings but he Will make sure you don't end up homeless. mom doesn't give any sort of material or emotional help with anything unless she can find a way to manipulate you with it)

apparently making it clear that i'm not spending a second night and that based on what my siblings said in our group chat i'd thought one of them was handling the dog's medicine is Actually me going "wah wah i hate helping, why can't aaaaaanyone else do it? why does it have to be meeeeee?" and i'm actually horrible and selfish just like all my siblings because we're all terrible.

and now she's threatening to not go! she still wants to send an uber for me to go up there but then just spend the night at the house while she's still there, fully defeating the purpose of me being there? and if that does actually happen i'll have to spend the night dealing with her getting drunk and either crying on me or screaming at me (probably both) before leaving early as fuck the next morning to go to another fucking state? like genuinely if she goes through with her threat then i simply will not go at all cuz i'd just spend the entire reunion ready to kill anything in sight and that's not fair to my cousins.

literally i probably could've avoided All Of This if i hadn't asked to stay over on the 4th. i asked as a way to test if maybe things could be less awkward over the holidays (sorta? but i couldn't sleep due to cat piss smells so i don't remember large parts of the 5th. so ultimately not very successful). and now that's getting taken as "oh yeah everything's perfect and mom can just go right back to treating me like i'm an evil ungrateful brat for uhhhhhh wanting to sleep in my own damn bed in my own damn apartment an hour away from her". which sucks! and makes me regret staying over at all! yeah going out for breakfast with everyone the next morning was nice, but its not worth this bullshit!

[joshuasearing]

Thursday 14th December 2023

Hey journal so I started the day of really late as my sleep schedule is really fucked now from the other day. I ended up waking up at one ish in the afternoon today. Once I was up I had some biscuits then got ready for the day. I then jogged to the bus stop. I got the bus to the gym. Once I got to the gym I mainly focused on chest biceps and did a little bit of calf’s. I ended up at the gym for about 2 and a half hours as I was waiting to get picked up by my mum as she wanted to go macdonalds and for me to use my discount that I get. Also when at the gym I spoke to some people I often see in the gym. I spoke to Elliot a little and. I did a 60kg bench although I do feel like he helped me. Also I did this thing where I held 90kg just above me and held it for a long period. Also I spoke to Owen and Ryan which are boys I get along with and are starting to speak to a lot more often in there. After the gym I got picked up by my mum and we went to my Maccies to get some food. When we got there it was chaotic and really busy. Anyways we got are food then drove home. Once I got home i watched some videos and ate my food. I got loads I got a double quarter meal with an oasis, a triple and also a galaxy caramel flurry. After eating all of this I did my documenting my mental health video, now I am writing in here. Also at the moment I am feeling really insecure as I did a video on my phone and it makes me look so ugly. Now it looks s making me question what I actually look like and whether it distorted my face or not as it made me looked so fucked. Seeing it do that to my face makes me feel so horrible about myself it makes me feel worthless and horrible. Also I spoke to Ryan in the gym about relationships and I learned that he is in a really similar situation as me. He’s ex broke up with him as she was cheating on him and he was with her for two years, then I explained to him what happened to my relationship. Anyways speak to you later journal, bye journal!

[timeoverload]

I had another long day. I didn't leave work until after 6. I also had to pick up cat food on my way home. It wasn't a horrible day but I'm very sore. I could use a back rub.

Some lady called the department phone this morning asking for me. My co-worker answered the phone because I was in decontam washing a pan. I don't know why he didn't just holler through the window to say there was someone on the phone because I could have gone over there. I rarely get phone calls at work. She didn't say who she was and I guess she hung up when he asked for her name. She said she would try again later but she never did. I am hoping it wasn't a debt-collector or something. It has been bothering me all day because I have no idea how that person got that number. Apparently I can't check the call history on the department phone and when I tried to figure it out I accidentally paged over the intercom so that was fun. I went downstairs and asked my friend who works at the front desk if they had gotten any calls from anyone asking for me and she said no. It just seems sort of odd but maybe I will find out tomorrow. I am going to try not to worry about it.

I am not looking forward to tomorrow. I will be the evening team lead. The morning team lead already asked me to stay late. I am expecting to be there at least 12 hours although I hope it won't be that bad. It's supposed to be extremely busy. They are trying to squeeze in as many surgeries as possible since we're closed Thursday and Friday. I'm glad I only have 16 eye cases in the morning so I won't have to worry about that in the afternoon on top of everything else. There are 22 total joint surgeries scheduled for Monday and I am going to need to help get all of those pans wrapped and sterilized before I leave. I hate dealing with the reps because they can be unreliable but I will have to do that too so I can make sure we have everything we need. 3 people are also going to be gone and we are already short staffed since we still need to hire 2 full-time people.

I don't know how I used to work 16 hour doubles back to back when I worked in hospice. Somehow I even managed to ride my bike home after that. I guess that was 10 years ago and my body has changed a lot. I wish I still had that much energy but maybe I will feel better in the future.

I don't want to do anything right now. I'm feeling overstimulated. I have no idea what I want to eat for dinner. I need to conserve my energy and I hope I can get to bed at a decent time. I am going to do my best not to be grumpy tomorrow. I am going to need to have a lot of caffeine. I know I will get through it though. I am looking forward to spending thanksgiving with my family and having a long weekend. I don't have much else to say right now. I'm having trouble focusing now and I'm tired so I'm going to try to relax for a while.

I hope everyone has a wonderful evening and a good day tomorrow. Thanks for listening. 💖💖💖

[cinnamon-todd]

by your side - jason todd x reader (gn neutral)

summary: u know when u feel lonely and then u start listening to lonely music and it only makes u even sadder??? yea that but jason is here to make u feel better

warnings: none??

a//n: hi im feeling goofy again !! i felt very overwhelmed by how many people liked and reblogged my last one o_o also might do a pt 2 to this? no?

you cant quite remember how you got to this point. you had just finished your afternoon shift, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto your comfy bed.

the apartment was quiet, you were the only one home. maybe that's where it started when you realized you were alone.

too lazy to shower or even change out of your work attire, you stayed put on your bed for what felt like a decade. the silence only made it worse, the sound of no one, just you alone with your thoughts. you opted to listen to music to drown out the said thoughts. but unfortunately, the themes of loneliness had seeped their way into your playlist.

the smell of coffee beans and chocolate was very strong, you cringed sniffing at your shirt. you should really shower, or at least change. but you stayed put.

you wondered when your roommate was coming home, or if he was. if memory served you right, tonight was an off day for him, you could only be curious about where he was right now.

the volume was at its highest and your thoughts had clouded your vision, you didn't realize he was standing at your door. he wasn't even sure if should interrupt you.

"ugh, not this song." you groaned sitting up to find your phone, cursing to yourself for adding that horrible song to the playlist.

"oh god!" you screeched, "how long have you been here?" fear in your eyes as you look at Jason.

"Just when Normal Girl by SZA ended," he answered with a playful grin.

you cringed inside, was your music really that loud? you removed your headphones, placing them on top of your messy side table.

"I thought you had today off, where were you?" you decided to change the topic. hopping off your bed and heading towards your closet, now you have to shower. Jason was not one for smelly behaviour, which honestly shocked you.

"I picked up some groceries, how does soup sound for dinner tonight?"

"Oh, I didn't know you were cooking." you peered around the closet door, looking at him confused.

"I'm just a really good roommate."

"Remember when you were bleeding out on the floo-"

"Don't." he cuts you off.

all you could do was chuckle. but the night he was bleeding out was quite the opposite of your reaction. tears were streaming down your face as you worried for your roommate's life. the thought of losing the only person you had in your life, it was frightening.

"Go shower," he motioned, "by the time you're out dinner should be ready."

"You really do spoil me, Todd." you chuckled at his shrug as he walked off.

[sunwoo-hoo]

↣ treasure reaction to cockwarming (legal line)

↳ a/n Thank you so much for this request anon! It was really fun to write I hope you like it. If you are under the age of 18 please do not interact with this post.

↳ requested? yes

↳ genre: smut, smut, and more smut + fluff (is this even cockwarming?) 

↳ send me a request here!  

↳ word count: 1.4k

「  choi hyunsuk  」

when you told him you wanted to try cockwarming he was surprised he didn’t think that was something you would be into but boy was he wrong

you decided to be extra spontaneous and surprise him 

one evening when he was working on music you came up behind him and started trailing long sweet kisses on his neck

smiling widely he looked at you

“what’re are you doing babe you know this song is due by monday”

you simply hummed innocently 

“you should definitely take a break then” you cooed while pushing him slightly away from the computer 

you continued to sit on his lap and started to straddle him 

he grabbed your jaw and tilted your head so he had better access to your lips giving them a much needed kiss

you then unzipped his pants and grabbed his already semi-hard cock

his breathing started to become heavy already knowing what to expect next

as you slid down onto his length effortlessly you whispered in his ear

“if you really have to work then let me stay like this” 

he tried to work on his music while you were in him but it didn’t last long until you were bent over his desk saying nothing but his name 

「 park jihoon 」

he actually brought up the idea to you first thinking it would be a fun little game to play

whoever moved first was the loser and the winner got to decide anything they wanted the loser to do

you decided to try it out before going to bed putting on a drama

laying down he was already rubbing the outside of your pajama shorts dangerously near your clit 

your breath hitched already dreading the game  

he wasn’t even inside you yet and you were already drenched in your panties 

he slipped them off with ease and spread your legs allowing better access 

“you ready to lose?” he jokingly said 

you turned your neck slightly to face him

“in your dreams” you retorted squinting your eyes at him

he then slowly pushed in deep into you

you held back a moan biting your lower lip

getting into a comfortable position you both tried to watch the drama until you started to rock your hips against his 

he smirked as he grabbed you and pulled you on top of him

“i knew you couldn’t resist”

「 kanemoto yoshinori  」

cockwarming was normal between the two of you 

you often did it after sex it was your special way of cuddling and being close

one night you two were having sex after being apart for two weeks

when you both were close to your climax that’s when you shouted

“yes! yes! right there please don’t stop yoshi” 

he rocked his hips deeper into you grabbing your waist in the process 

his thrusts started to become sloppy an indication that he was close to his high

that familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach started to become to much to bear 

and then you swear you saw stars cumming all your juices onto his cock 

when he saw your juices on his cock that’s when he lost control and filled you deep with his hot seed 

“god [name] you’re so beautiful”

you smiled up at him and gave him a sweet yet gentle kiss

his cock stayed inside you as he lay down next to you drifting into sleep   

「 kim junkyu  」

he looked at you confused at first not knowing what cockwarming was 

when you told him what it was and that you wanted to try it his eyes lit up like a tree on christmas 

one afternoon you were already sitting on his hard cock when you got a phone call

you panicked and picked up the call realizing it was your work telling you to come to your shift early

that’s when he decided to prank you  

he slowly lifted his hips to thrust into you

you held back a yelp almost dropping your phone in the process 

“yes sir, i-i can come to my shift early” you mumbled trying desperately not to moan 

saying your rushed goodbyes you quickly hung up the phone and glared at him

he smiled innocently at you 

“let’s see how much i can make you cum before you have to go”  

「 takata mashiho 」

when you told him you wanted to try cockwarming he was all for it giving you the biggest of smiles 

on a road trip with the rest of the members you two were all the way in the back seat and that’s when you decided to try it sneakily 

you were already sitting on his lap when you started to rub your ass against his clothed cock

luckily everyone was distracted by their phones to notice you moving at a steady pace 

his eyes closed enjoying the feeling of your ass being pressed up against him

when you felt that he was hard enough you quietly pulled down his sweats and pushed your skirt to the side 

sliding down on his cock you held back a moan when it instantly reached your sweet spot 

he nibbled on your ear before whispering

“shh, we need to be quiet love if not i’ll give you something to really moan about” 

「 yoon jaehyuk 」

you were both talking about new things you wanted to try together sexually and you both had cockwarming on your list

since you both were adventurous you decided to try it one summer night

you were recreating your first date at lotte world when you both decided to go on the ferris wheel  

at first it was just a ride you both were going on for fun

until you reached the top and with one look you both decided to try it

you knew the ferris wheel would be still for at least 10 minutes so you swiftly went on his lap 

unzipping his jeans he rubbed his cock a few times until he was satisfied with his hardness guiding you down onto his cock

you gave him a cheeky smile and leaned in to give him a passionate kiss

he licked your bottom lip begging to taste more of you, you easily allowed him access 

next thing you knew your tongues were dancing together

after a few minutes you pulled back gasping for air 

he chuckled while rubbing your cheek with his thumb 

you shyly leaned into his touch 

“the view is almost as beautiful as you” 

「 hamada asahi 」

he blinked a couple of times when you told him you wanted to try cockwarming 

he wasn’t against it he just didn’t see the appeal when you could just fuck instead

but after you begged and told him it was suppose to be a cute couple experience he gave in

he would do anything to make you happy even if it was cockwarming

you decided to try it one night when it was a bit to chilly hoping to warm each other up

he rubbed his cock over your clit a few times to tease you before pushing into your wet pussy completely 

you moaned as he entered you loving the feeling how his cock hit you in all the right places without even having to move

“thank you for doing this with me” you shyly said burying your face in your pillow out of embarrassment 

he kissed your neck and answered

“there’s no one else i’d rather do this with”

「 bang yedam 」

he shyly brought it up to you first, it was something he heard from the older members and he realized he wanted to try it with you

you decided you wanted to go all out for the first experience

candles, new lingerie, soft music in the background, everything

when he came back from practice he was in shock in how you decorated your entire bedroom you shared together

looking you up and down in the black lingerie you decided to put on he smiled brightly 

“what’s all this?” 

“well... you said you wanted try cockwarming so i thought why not try tonight?” you said looking down on the floor 

maybe he was too tired? was this a horrible idea? you started to panic

he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to his body tilting your head to look up at him 

losing your train of thought you looked into his eyes

“any night is perfect as long as i get to spend it with you” he assured you as he gave you a soft kiss to your forehead 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* © sunwoo-hoo 2 0 2 1  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[buckystevelove]

My Brightest Star

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2708

Warning: ANGST and fluff

A/N: This is my longest work. Please leave comments. Ask, submissions and requests are open.

A week, that’s how long has passed since Bucky’s world felt apart. He should have known, his whole life has been full of tragedy, one after the other. He had 7 years of happiness and peace, he will have to come to terms with the fact that maybe those years would be the only ones in his long and sad life that he would known what real and complete happiness really is.

He met you 7 years ago in a coffee shop, you accidentally tripped and spilled all your coffee in him. You apologized over and over again, Bucky couldn’t care less about the hot drink splatted all over his body, he was so enthralled over the beautiful woman standing in front of him, for years he thought that he would never get love, but you managed to prove him wrong. He claims that it was love at first sight, he simply knew that you were his soul mate.  

After the incident, you bought his coffee as a symbol of forgiveness, though he really didn’t care. You exchanged names and phone numbers. Just a few hours later you received a massage from Bucky, inviting you to go for dinner the next day. Soon, one date turn to seeing each other every time you could. You felt for him, and hard. Eventually you met all of his friends, you became a great friend with Wanda and Nat. They would invite you to all the girl nights they had. You got along with Sam, always joking around and making pranks, same with Tony. You also became best friend with Steve, you had a strong relationship with him besides yours with Bucky. You too were like siblings, he always claimed that you were his little sister, and warned Bucky never harm you, or he would have to face the consequences.

Nobody was surprise nor bother when you moved to the compound with Bucky. Everyone was super exited to have you closer, that made Bucky a bit jealous.

You and Bucky were attached to the hip. One year into your relationship, he knew that he was going to marry you, you were going to be the mother of his children. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were the one, so he asked you to marry him.

It was so beautiful, he took you on a trip to the museum, your favorite place to spend the time. When you were in the sculptures room the kneeled and said; “YN, since the moment I saw you I knew that you were the one, I knew that I was going to marry you, and all you have done is prove me right. You are the love of my life, my partner, my best friend I can no longer imagine a future in which you are not in it, because YOU are my FUTURE. You have been the light at the end of the tunnel, you have brought me happiness, love I thought I no longer deserved after all the awful things I had done, you helped name realized who the real James Buchanan Barnes is, and who I want him to be. I want to be your husband because I love you so much. You are my entire world YN. So, would you marry me?”

At the end of his speech both of you had tears in your checks, you throw yourself over him and said yes over and over again, you were beaming.

6 months after that, many hours of planning and cake tasting, you and Bucky had the most beautiful fall wedding. It was perfect. Your family and the team was there, everyone was so happy for the two of you.

When the time to say the vowels came you couldn’t be more thrilled, you have been writing them for so long.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you are the love of my life. You have been the one who has taught me what love really is, what it is like to love someone with every single atom in my body. You have taught me what is like to be completely and uoughterly happy, that is how I feel when ever I am with you. James, when we met you told me that you only saw yourself as a monster, as the vilan of many people’s lives, but baby, you are my knight in shining armor, you are absolutely everything to me. You are the brightest star in my universe, the one and only. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to tell you and show you how much I love you every day, I want you to feel how much I love you even after we are death. I want to keep loving you and choosing you a hundred of lives after this. Because Bucky, MY LOVE FOR YOU WILL NEVER END.”

At the end both of you were crying, among many other of your guests.

Your honeymoon was perfect. Tony paid the two of you a 3 weeks trip around Europe. Nine months later, you had your gorgeous daughter, Rebecca. She looked exactly like you, but her eyes, she had the most beautiful blue eyes just like her father. The three of you were the definition of a perfect family, you and Bucky did ocationaly fight like all healthy couples do, but your life was great. Your house was so full of love and happiness.

Bucky was so thankful to you, you had given him all he could ever dreamed for in life and more.

The three of you spent all the time you could together, you went to the park and had movie nights, went of family trips and spent lazy Sunday mornings in bed together. You wanted Becca to feel and understand what a loving home was, since you didn’t had one. You wanted her to feel the love you and Bucky had for her.

“Becca, Bucky, you two know you are the most important people in my life right. I love the two of you so so much. You are the ones that make me happy. You are my greatest treasures.” You said to your husband and 5 year old daughter one afternoon, while cuddling in the couch together.

“I love you too mommy, you too daddy. You are the best parents in the world, thank you.” She said kissing yours and Bucky’s face, making you giggle.

“You dolls are my everything. I love you.” He said before attacking the two of you with tickles, and whispering to your ear. “Thanks doll, for all this.”

The day had started like any other Tuesday would, you woke up after your alarm. Waking up Bucky with kisses and loving touches, after he woke up he heads to shower while you got Becca ready. Once the two of them were dressed, Bucky went to the kitchen to make breakfast wihle you got ready. The three of you ate together, you heard how Becca´s best friend was going to have a party next Saturday and you needed to buy her a present. You decided to go to the mall with her after classes and maybe have a girl’s day and do you nails. That made her smile so bright, which was what you loved the most about your life, that it was full of happiness.

After eating, you said goodbye to Bucky and Rebecca, he was going to take her to school and then go to the Avengers compound to train some new recruits, while you went to your office.

Bucky’s day went normal, as any other day would go, he did some training and hanged out with Sam and Steve. When 4pm came around the received a call from Becca´s school, her teacher told him that she was still there. You never came pick her up, he didn´t know why you were late. You always told him if your meeting was going to be longer so someone would pick your daughter from school.

“Sorry man.” He told Steve at the middle of the meeting. “Apparently YN never went to pick Rebecca from school she is there by herself, I really need to go. I also need to see what happened to YN. She is not picking up her phone.” Bucky said standing up from his chair.

“Sure pal, everything good with her?” Steve said a bit worry, he didn´t want his best friend to be in panic.

“I hope so.” He said walking to the door, but before he could reach it his phone rang again.

Steve just stood there, and watched how the color of his best friends face went completely white, then Bucky’s knees failed and he felt to the floor. Tears running down his cheeks, his face was shaking. He was wordless. Sentences couldn´t form in his mouth. Steve was next to him in second, he took the phone from his hand.

That when he heard him scream, he screamed as if he was dying, painful and horrible screams.

“Excuse me.” Steve said through the phone. “This is Steve Rogers. What happened?” He asked, though he already had an idea of what had happened.

“I am so sorry Sir, but I regret to inform you that Mrs. Barnes had a car accident today. She arrived to the New York Presbyterian Hospital at 2:36pm, she immediately went to surgery. She didn´t make it, she was called at 3:49pm. I am so sorry, but we need her husband to come.”

Steve hanged up the phone, he had tears in his eyes, he was about to cry. He had lost his best friend, but he needed to be strong for the man that was like a brother to him, to his nice.

Bucky was in the floor, sobbing and screaming. He went and called for Nat. She enter and saw the state in which Bucky was, then she saw the tears in Steve´s eyes.

“What happened?” She asked in panic.

“I… he…N-Nat” he mumbled between sobs. “Can you please look for Rebecca at school? Please.”

Nat realized, she immediately shook her head in disbelieve, “no, no, no,”

“Nat, please. Someone needs to be with her.” Steve managed to say. She wiped her tears and left the room.

Steve was in the floor hugging his best friend while he cried his eyes out, he was no longer screaming.

“I am sorry buddy, I am so sorry.” He said to his friend. “I know how you feel, just let it all out. But later you need to be strong for your daughter. She just lost her mother, she will need her dad. She needs you to be there for her, but now. I am here for you.”

“Not her, please not her. She is perfect Steve, I can’t, I love her, we can’t lose her.” He sobbed and screamed. “We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together, the two of us.”

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When he calmed down, they went to the hospital. A drunk driver had crashed against your car in a traffic light. He died immediately.

Becca slept in Nat´s room. Bucky slept in his old room in the compound, he couldn’t go to your home. Too many memories. He couldn’t face his daughter, he would broke in front of her, he needed to be strong. He cried himself to sleep that day.

He next day was awful, he needed to explain to her 5 year old baby, that her mother would never hug her again. He couldn’t even began to comprehend that.

“Becca, baby. I need to talk to you.” He said the next morning the compounds living room, all  the other Avengers were in the hospital helping Bucky prepare every detail for the funeral, Steve was the only one there, next to Bucky and Becca. In case either of them needed him.

“Daddy, why did we slept here?” She asked frowning her eyebrows, just like her dad. “Where is mommy? We were supposed to have a girl´s day yesterday.”

That made Bucky tear a few tears which he rapidly cleaned.

“Babydoll, its because…” Bucky mad a pause and looked through the windows. “Mommy had an accident, and she will never come again.”

Becca made a confused face.

“Why? Can´t you just put her a bad-aid like you do to me when I have accident?” She asked in all her innocence, which made Bucky’s strength fall. He quickly enveloped her in his arms.

“That is the thing baby, she had a big accident, she is gone.” He started to sob again, so did Steve.

Becca began to stroke her father’s hair. “We will see her daddy, someday, but I am really going to miss her.” She started to cry and hug her dad.

“I want my mommy, dad.”

“So do I honey.”

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The funeral was beautiful, full with YN´s family and friends. They all told beautiful stories and tried to remember the amazing person YN was. Bucky couldn’t talk, he had so many things to say, none of them were for this people to hear, they were for his love.

A week had passed since you awful dead, Bucky stayed at the compound, he couldn’t go home, he also needed help with Becca. He could barely managed to take care of himself.

He was in his bed, looking at the celling, numb. He know the needed to stand up and shower, he needed to get up and care of his baby, but she was the carbon copy of you. It was like looking at you, it hurt, it really hurt. Lying there he heard some knocking at his door. Then Steve came..

“Hey pal, the lawyer came today, he left the will and this letter. She wrote it you when you guys had Rebecca.”

“Thanks, just leave it there.” He said gesturing to his night stand.

When Steve left he got up and grabbed the letter, it had his name in your beautiful calligraphy.

Bucky,

My love, I hope that you never have to open this letter, but if you do, I want you to know that you made me the happiest woman alive. In all the galaxies we know that exist, in all the universe that may. I was the happiest, all thanks to you. You teached me what the meaning for being alive really meant, you showed me so many incredible and beautiful things, and you gave me our most amazing gift, our daughter Rebecca, she is the tangible evidence of our love.

If the time in which you have to open this letter comes, know that you did everything you could. Under any circumstances think that this was your fault, it wasn´t.

I love you so much Bucky, you have really no idea, and I know you loved me just as much, that is why I am asking you one last favor.

Please don´t close yourself, don´t let yourself return to the man you were before be met, not that he was any less amazing, but he was lonely. I want you to continue living your life to the fullest. I know I can´t ask you to not miss me or forget me, I don’t want that. I want you to remember my memory and cherish it. I want you to show all then wonders of the world to sweet Becca. Please never let her forget that she was the most important person in my life besides you.

I want the two of you to continue to love, and let yourselves be love. I love you with all my heart, and every single atom in my body.

          Don’t forget me my brightest star, YN.

After reading that Bucky cleaned his cheeks.

“I will always love you.” He kissed the letter and placed it in his nightstand. He got up and went to find his daughter.

“I love you baby, and so did you mother. You are our greatest creations.” He no longer had you here, so he was going to spend all his breathing moments showing her how much he loved her, he was the only part left in this world of YN, and she was that greatest gift she could have left him.

He would continue to love you long after you are gone. For ever, til the end of times.

——————————————————————————

A/N: I cried so hard writing this. I am so sorry, but I hope you like it. I really appreciate feedback.

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: VII

Sunflower, my eyes

Want you more than a melody

Let me inside

Wish I could get to know you

Sunflower Vol. 6, Harry Styles

A/N: okay so this part was so much fun to write!! it originally was going to have four more scenes but uh. as we all know. i am very wordy. so the other scenes I have planned will have to be split into what will probably become two more parts and you guys will just have to deal with getting another two chapters 😌 but this part is really exciting because we are getting a lil bit of angst mixed in with harry’s general dumbassery!! love to see it love to hear it!! and please if you like what you are reading here!! reblog it!! leave reactions in the tags (we read every single one)!! send a message to andrea and i!! feedback and interaction is what keeps content creators motivated to keep cranking out nearly 30k every one to two weeks!! and that’s a general rule for all content creators not just us!! we do this for free so a lil love note is always appreciated 💌 alrighty now that that’s out of the way!! let’s dive in!!

ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist

word count: 26.6k

content/warnings: another good dose of denial, Fajita Friday with a side of blended margs, waking up on the wrong side of the coffin, brutal analysis of niall’s non-existent love life, ribeye!y/n x rotisseriechicken!harry, a horrible impersonation of Bob Barker, “are you there, God?  it’s me, harry,” degradation, the violation of worksafe laws through the improper use of a ladder, mild pain kink, alexa, play ‘kiss it better’ by rihanna, and the rise of kinkrry (dir. j.j. abrams)

As Harry climbs up the stairs to Y/N’s apartment the next Friday night with a bag containing tequila, orange liqueur, and limes clutched within his jeweled hand, there are two thoughts flickering through his mind.  

The first, which weighs more heavily on the vampire, is if Y/N prefers her margaritas blended or over ice, as Harry feels that tells a lot about a person, and it would be such a disappointment to realize now that Y/N isn’t a fan of the blended beverage.  The second, which should weigh more heavily on his mind if he had his priorities sorted out, is how Y/N had managed to convince him to let her cook dinner for the two of them.

In reality, it hadn’t actually taken much convincing on the mortal girl’s part at all.  When she messaged him on her lunch break earlier that day, asking what he was up to that night, Harry had sat up on his couch, drawing Niall and Xander’s attention to him in a confused manner. He’d stared at the message for only three seconds before opening his phone and pressing on her contact name.  The action had come so easily to him that he didn’t even think about hiding his eagerness to speak to her, and instead pressed his phone tight to his ear as the other line rang three times before she picked it up.

“Harry?” Her confused voice rang through his phone speaker, the sound of the bustling cafe apparent in the background. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, love. I just, uh…just wanted to talk to you, s’all.” Harry had replied, shushing the questions he could see hanging off of Niall and Xander’s lips. “How’s work today?  Busy?”

“As busy as it always is on a Friday afternoon.” Y/N answered with a sigh, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips as he heard a loud slurp through the phone, leading him to picture a stressed out Y/N sipping the last remnants of her iced latte. “But I’m over halfway through my shift, at least, so… it’s all downhill from here.  In a good way.”

Harry had nodded slowly, as if the mortal girl could see him through the phone. “I’m glad to hear that.”

His friends, however, seemed to be less glad to hear it, and paused the golf tournament that was playing on TV to stare at him with incredulous expressions on their faces. 

“Who are you talking to?” Niall had demanded, kicking his foot into Harry’s calf with more force than what was necessary. “We’re going to miss the first swing!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Xander snickered to the Irishman next to him, a devious smirk lighting up his face. “It’s that human he’s been obsessed with for the last, like, two months.  His little plaything.”

Harry had stood up then, flipping the pair off with a pointed glare before turning towards the kitchen, intent on finding some peace and quiet where he could carry on his conversation without having to worry about Y/N overhearing something she shouldn’t.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your break,” He murmured, resting his elbows over the cool marble countertop of his kitchen island that was nearly the same temperature of his skin. “But calling you seemed easier than texting.  I’m free tonight—” He always kept his Friday nights free for her; had she not realized that by now? “So I was thinking I could be at your place around eight?  Or nine?  What works for you?”

And it was then that he had heard it, breaking through the cafe ambient noise that caught Harry’s inhuman ears, and the inquisitive whispering of Niall and Xander in the other room.  As clear as if it were really right in his ear, Harry had heard the sharp intake of breath, the slow exhale that followed, and the melodic voice that he’d become so familiar with, shaking ever so slightly.

“I was, um, actually thinking you could come over a bit earlier.” Y/N had replied, the tapping of her fingertips against her back room’s linoleum table reverberating around Harry’s head. “I got groceries yesterday, and I was going to make fajitas tonight, and I realized I had enough food for two people, and so if you don’t have anything else planned—”

Harry hadn’t meant to cut Y/N off— listening to her nervous rambling is one of his favourite things, and he’d never purposefully forfeit the opportunity to hear it (and that fondness aside, cutting off her speech would be rude)— but shock overtook his body and triggered the response before he could stop it. “You want to cook me dinner?”

“I—” The speaker crackled again, and Harry could practically picture the hesitation wrinkling across Y/N’s face, the caution in her tone a clear indication of how hard she was working to stay upright on the tense tightrope known as their relationship. “Yeah, I do.  I’m not a chef or anything, but my friends and I used to cook for each other all the time, and Fajita Fridays were one of my specialties, so—”

“I would absolutely love it if you cooked for me.” A slow grin had spread over Harry’s face, pulling the dimples from his cheeks in a way that he’d recently noticed only she could. “What time should I be over?  Do you want me to pick you up from work?”

“No, that’s fine.” Y/N had assured him quickly, the breathlessness in her voice leading Harry to picture the light rush of heat that was probably working its way over her cheeks. “You can come over around six, if that works for you…?”

Harry had checked the Rolex hanging off his wrist, which displayed the time of 2:33PM back to him. “Six is perfect.” He’d replied with an airy yet firm voice, nodding to himself once again. “Can I bring anything?  Is there anything you need me to pick up?”

“Oh, uh...no.  No, you don’t need to bring anything.  Just your appetite; I make a lot of fajitas.” The surprise that echoed in Y/N’s voice and the small laugh that followed had drawn an pleasurable ache from Harry’s dormant chest in a way he couldn’t explain. “Thank you for asking, though.  So… I’ll see you at six, then.”

“Sounds good, love.  I’m looking forward to it.” Harry had smiled again, despite no one being around to view it, and continued to smile even after he had hung up and made his way back to the living room, where his two friends had greeted him with an array of exaggerated vulgar motions and kissy faces.

He had waved them off, and though he’d glowered at them hotly and shrugged off their prodding questions, he couldn’t find it in himself to stifle the grin that the human girl’s offer had left behind on his cheeks.  She wanted to make him dinner. Just the two of them. It’d been so long since anyone had gone so out of their way for him like that, he hadn’t been able to help his giddy reaction.

As he reaches the final stair leading to Y/N’s floor of her building, a tired sigh falls from Harry’s pink lips.  He should’ve known better than to call her with his friend present, he thinks, as his footsteps echo around the empty hallway.  The moment he’d plopped back down on his couch, Niall and Xander had ignored his dismissive attitude and proceeded to continue to bombard him with a million questions about her, and a million more digs at his ego when he had later excused himself from their tournament to get ready for the dinner.  Although he’d normally be able to ignore their obsessive inquiries without so much as a second thought, he’d berated himself throughout his entire shower and get-ready routine, the harsh judgement ever-present in the back of his skull as he’d picked up his favourite ingredients for margaritas from the grocery store.  He should’ve known better.

It’s bad enough that he’s toying around with Y/N’s feelings just for his own selfish needs, but every time the topic of Y/N came up around his friends, it ended with the exact same question, just as it had earlier that day.

“So when do we get to meet her?  Like, officially meet her, and not just hear her moaning through your wall.” Niall had asked as he took a sip of his Guinness beer, layering a childish snicker on top of his curiosity.

“Yeah, I’d love to see the girl that domesticated you.  Always thought she’d be fictional, actually.” Xander’s laugh had matched Niall’s as the two of them watched Harry slip a fresh t-shirt over his head. 

A tightness had developed in Harry’s chest then, so tense that it had nearly stopped him from smoothing the shirt over his inked chest. “You don’t get to meet her.” He had replied curtly, shooting the two vampires a stern look. “She’s not something for you two to gawk at, she’s—”

Niall had interjected then, the mirth in his eyes refusing to bow despite Harry’s seething. “Your girlfriend?” 

Harry had stared witheringly at the Irish immortal. “No.  She’s not my girlfriend.  She’s just a friend I have an arrangement with.  An arrangement that will become much more complicated if she starts hanging out with other vampires and notices that there’s something… off about us.”

“Off?” Niall had questioned, grinning cheekily with a flash of his fangs, his blue irises dying blood red. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, mate.”

Pausing in front of Y/N’s front door, Harry takes a moment to swipe his hair back from his face, tousling his curls until they fall into just the right place.  His chestnut locks are beginning to get a little long again (they curl around his ears and tickle the nape of his neck now), but he can’t quite bring himself to cut them just yet; Y/N has a habit of reaching for them whenever he goes down on her, and the sensation of her tugging on his hair is too satisfying to let go of so easily.  As for the rest of his look, Harry has opted to keep it casual tonight, wearing a blue and pink flamingo patterned button down over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, paired with a rust-coloured pair of corduroy pants and his white vans.  If their usual routine is any indication, then Harry will be staying the night, and he’s learned over the years that it’s much comfier to leave the next morning in loose clothes than trying to yank on a pair of tight leather pants in a stranger’s bedroom.  Not that Y/N is a stranger; in fact, he could probably get away with bringing an overnight bag now.  But there’s something so presumptuous in showing up to a dinner date with a bag, and in a shocking— though fleeting— change of heart, the last thing Harry wants is to seem presumptuous. 

Harry raises his jeweled knuckles and raps on Y/N’s door in a rhythmic pattern, straightening his back and leaning against the frame as he waits for the door to open. 

Even through the wooden barrier, Harry can hear the old music floating through the bluetooth speaker that he knows sits on Y/N’s kitchen counter, the sizzling of peppers and onions in a pan, and Y/N singing to herself softly under her breath, the latter of which pauses as soon as Harry knocks.  Instead, it’s replaced with the soft padding of bare feet against the laminate floor, the click of a lock, the removal of a door chain, and the turning of a knob as the door swings open. 

And then Harry sees Y/N, and the sight of her catches the breath that he doesn’t really need. It lodges in his lungs and at the back of his burning throat, causing an odd sensation to churn the pit of his tummy as a sudden wave of heat pours into his cheeks. 

If Harry’s pride wasn’t as steadfast as he likes to portray, he would openly admit that it truly is frightening how just one glance at her can make his entire nervous system flare. 

It’s obvious that Y/N’s been at work all day; her mascara is slightly smudged beneath her eyes, and the ponytail bouncing at the top of her head is loose, with wisps of hair falling out and framing her face.  Her clothing, however, has been changed from her usual work polo and jeans to a cotton bralette that clings to her chest and displays a strip of her stomach that makes Harry’s mouth water.  Her black leggings have mesh cutouts on the side, and while that detail would normally draw Harry’s eyes by default, it’s the multicolour patchwork cardigan hanging loosely off her shoulders that really catches Harry off guard.  Or, more specifically, it’s his multicolour patchwork cardigan that catches him off guard. 

“Hi.” Y/N smiles up at him warmly with the edges of her eyes crinkling, her hands grasping the side of the door tightly. “Six P.M. on the dot, Holmes.  I’m impressed.”

“Solving mysteries isn’t my only speciality.” Harry matches his grin to hers, his dimples making an appearance as his expression grows. “Although speaking of mysteries… I think I just solved the case of my missing cardigan.” With his free hand, Harry reaches forward and tweaks a button on the article of clothing, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s bare tummy when he pulls away. 

A wispy giggle falls from Y/N’s cheeks as she opens the door wider to invite Harry in. “Right, that case.  I was about to call you about it, actually.  We got a big break-through last night.”

“Did we?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he steps into her apartment, shifting the fabric tote bag in his right hand to his left as he squeezes into the narrow corridor beside her. “And what was the big break, exactly?” 

Y/N wraps her arms around Harry’s neck as he snakes his now free hand around her waist, clutching her close to his cool body. “Well, I was trying to go to sleep, and I was cold, so I went searching in my closet for an extra blanket, and found this tucked in the back from when you let me borrow it last weekend.” She explains lightly, twisting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Case closed.  Elementary, my dear Holmes.”

“I thought that was my line?” Harry quirks an eyebrow as fond amusement dances through his emerald eyes, his cold palm giving one of her love handles a playful squeeze. “First you steal my cardigan, and now my catch phrase.  What’s next?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Y/N says with a shrug, her smile growing wider with every passing moment as she nudges his chin teasingly with the tip of her warm nose. “I could steal a kiss, I suppose?  That’s a very you thing to do.”

“Not quite.  Usually you’re the one trying to steal one, and I make you ask for it. Beg, even, if I’m feeling a bit meaner than usual.” Tilting his head to the side and shaking it slowly, Harry lets out a long sigh. “You’re losing your touch, Watson.”

“Tragic.” Y/N matches his sigh as she begins to untangle her hands from his hair, but when she tries to extract herself from Harry’s grasp, he just holds on tighter. 

“But for the sake of tradition…” Harry’s eyes fall to the mortal’s lips as he wets his own with his tongue. “How about a hello kiss?”

Despite the usual iciness of Harry’s touch, heat begins to blossom through Y/N’s chest as she tilts her head up to meet Harry’s mouth.  The kiss, unlike many they’ve shared before, is tender, and only lasts for a brief moment before Y/N settles back down on the balls of her feet. 

“Hi.” She whispers, her hands curling around the fabric clinging to Harry’s muscular shoulders. 

“Hi.” The vampire replies easily as he finally releases his grip on her waist, taking a step back from both Y/N and the bashful instance they’d found themselves in.

He allows her to lead him down the entrance hallway and into her living room, drifting behind her towards the kitchen and glimpsing over all the ingredients she has scattered around her counters.

“You look beautiful in my cardigan, by the way.” Harry throws out casually, admiring the way the article hangs off her figure in the most adorable oversized fashion. “If I didn’t make that clear enough before.  And,” the monster takes a sudden deep whiff for emphasis, “it smells delicious in here. Seems like Gordon Ramsey doesn’t have shit on you, huh?”

Although the initial compliment brings a flush of pleasure up Y/N’s spine, she chooses to focus on the latter half of Harry’s comment. “I’d like to think so, yeah.  Dinner is almost ready, if you want to take a seat at the table.  Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Actually…” Harry holds up the bag in his hand and bounces it jestingly, fully bringing it to Y/N’s attention for the first time. “I thought I’d make us margaritas to go with the fajitas.  Really commit to the theme, y’know?”

All of the previous drinks that Harry has made for her float through Y/N’s mind, and her mouth salivates at the thought of drinking another of his incredible creations. He really does have such a wise talent with liquor that she finds herself subconsciously wondering how that had come to be. “Of course; we can’t do Fajita Fridays halfway, now can we?”

“No, we can’t.” Harry agrees with a firm nod, setting the bag down on her small kitchen tabletop and unpacking the ingredients he’d toted with him. “Do you prefer your margaritas over ice or blended?”

The correct answer immediately rolls off the mortal’s tongue. “Blended— I’m not insane.” She states with a scoff, picking up her spatula to stir the pepper and onion mixture on the stove as she bobs her head towards the cabinet at the far end of the room. “The blender is just up in that cupboard there.”

The corners of Harry’s pink lips tug up at her response, and he nods to the girl as he drifts over and reaches for the cabinet she’d motioned to. “Gotcha.” He says, pushing back a few decorative serving platters before extracting the blender sitting on the back of the shelf. “Oh, this’ll do nicely.”

His comment is met with a quiet snort from Y/N, who glances at him from the corner of her eye as she turns her attention to the sautéing chicken in her skillet. “Oh, it will, will it?” She asks sarcastically, her lithe fingers adding pinches of seasoning to the dish. “Are you a blender connoisseur, then?”

“Of course I am, angel.  Y’have to be, to make a half decent margarita.” Setting the kitchen appliance in the counter, Harry studies it with a keen eye, running his fingers over the smooth glass and slightly worn buttons. “It has a little bit of wear and tear, but that’s to be expected; the rest of it seems to be in decent condition.” He unwraps the cord from the base of the blender, plugging it into the wall before pressing the pulse button a few times to make the machine roar to life. “Listen to that engine purr… A blender like this could bring a man to tears.”

“That’s good to know.” Y/N snorts again, shaking her head at Harry’s antics as he begins to prepare his ingredients. “If you need a knife for the limes, there’s one in the block there.  And ice is in the freezer—”

“That’s good to know.” Harry mimics her prior reply with a shit-eating grin on his face, his hand wrapped around a bottle of Don Julio he’d snagged from his bar shelves. “I was about to check the cabinet again.”

With a shake of her head, Y/N steps past Harry to open a cupboard and fetch a serving dish. “Alright, smartass.” She bumps her hip against Harry’s as she passes him, the motion sending a jolt of electricity across the vampire’s pelvic bones. “Keep it up and you’ll lose dessert privileges.”

Although she tries to step away, Harry twists a cool arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her back against his chest as he smudges a kiss over her pulse point. “‘M sorry.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low in an attempt to hide the smile brewing on his face. “I’ll be nicer, then.  I’d hate to lose dessert—it’s my favourite part.”

With his lips over her neck, Harry can feel the exact moment Y/N’s heart rate increases, his ears pricking with the now familiar and adored sound.  Her warm hand cups his over her belly, fingers tracing over the knuckles of his icy touch. 

“I know it is.” Y/N tilts her head to the left, trying to provide Harry with more access to her neck as his mouth continues to ghost over her skin. “So I’d hate to take it away.”

The human girl’s familiar and achingly sweet honey and lavender scent fills Harry’s nostrils as his nose brushes against her jaw.  When he refers to her as dessert, Y/N doesn’t know how genuinely Harry means it. “Alright.  I’ll behave.” He relents, but he squeezes her tummy tightly as his teeth graze her skin one last time before pulling away. “For now.”

When Y/N detangles from the cage that is Harry’s arm, she busies herself with cooking again, doing her best to hide the light sheen of sweat that is beading her forehead.  It’s almost embarrassing, really; despite only being here for five minutes, Harry’s already pulling reactions out of her that she didn’t even know she had.  If she doesn’t get a hold of herself soon, she’ll be on her knees for him before he’s had a bite of dinner. 

With that thought in mind, the mortal forces herself to focus on the tasks at hand, continuing her banter with Harry while making sure to keep the subject matter PG as she plates the food and Harry blends drinks for them.  Her tiny table, which she’s already set for two, is soon filled with dishes containing sautéed vegetables, chicken, and other various toppings, and Harry pours his margarita mix into two glasses before sitting across from her with a curious air. 

“So this is what you and your friends used to do back home, is it?” He asks, crossing his arms and resting them on the table as he regards Y/N with a tilted head. “Fajita Fridays?  Taco Tuesdays?  Meatloaf Mondays?”

“Meatloaf Mondays sound depressing.” Y/N shoots back with a scoff, her hand wrapping around her margarita glass and lifting it to her mouth to take a sip. “We weren’t that pathetic.”

Harry exhales a sharp but quiet breath from his nose once—the beginnings of a laugh— before offering a dry reply. “No, it doesn’t have a very nice ring to it, does it?” He says, watching eagerly as her eyes widen at the first taste of the drink rolls across her tongue. “Do you like it?”

Y/N clears her throat as she lowers her glass from her mouth. “It’s...strong.” Y/N replies slowly, taking another gulp and smacking her lips in an exaggerated fashion. “But yummy.  This is a repeat recipe, I think.” 

The praise warms the pit of Harry’s stomach as he raises his own glass, motioning to the girl before him before bringing the edge of the cup to his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He murmurs, setting his drink back down after taking a sip and letting his eyes roam over the food before them. “So how did you and your friends do this?  Everyone would just reach in at once, or—?”

“Oh, well, we—we used to say grace first, actually.” Y/N admits after a moment, her eyes momentarily flickering to the gold cross dangling from Harry’s neck.  Although his usual cross earring is absent tonight, his pearls out of sight as well, and he’s only wearing his opal and lionhead rings, that familiar cross necklace is present as ever. “And then we’d move everything around the table clockwise from the person who actually led saying grace.” 

Despite Y/N previously mentioning that she’d been a regular church goer in her hometown, this new information sparks an interest in Harry’s mind. “Really?” He quirks an eyebrow as the human girl reaches for a warmed tortilla and begins to spoon her toppings inside. “But you don’t do that now?”

“Nope.” Her lips pop on the final consonant sound of the word. “Did you say grace growing up?” She asks curiously, nodding to the chain around Harry’s neck. “You always wear that cross, so I was just wondering…”

“Oh, uh—yeah. Yeah, we did.” A crease furrows the space between Harry’s brow as he selects his own tortilla, keeping his eyes glued to the food. “My father used to lead it every night.” Although he could leave the comment there and be done with the topic, more words of explanation spill from Harry’s mouth without him realizing how much he’s actually saying, his gaze remaining trained on the way he’s filling his tortilla, almost as if it’s a monumentally difficult task that requires his utmost attention. “I liked to listen to him say it.  My father had a very calming voice; he could be loud and boisterous when he wanted to, but at home, he always kept cool and collected.  It was comforting.”

Y/N notes the use of past tense when discussing Harry’s father, but doesn’t comment on it.  With the knowledge that his mother had passed away in her mind, she assumes the same has happened to his father, and the realization twists her heart in a new and aching manner. “You speak like that, you know.” She tries to steer the conversation into a lighter direction, registering the sadness in his emerald eyes when he discusses his family. “When you’re telling stories about your life.  Your voice is low and even, quieter than usual.  It sounds a bit like a…lullaby, I guess.  Or like— like an audiobook, like someone’s reading some old poetry, or—” Her cheeks flame beneath her skin as she drops her eyes to her plate. “Sorry.  That, um, that sounds strange.”

The outpouring confessions from the girl across from him brings an awed expression to Harry’s face.  He had always assumed his voice was more of a siren song than anything— capable of luring his victims into a false sense of security before he showed his true monstrous form.  But if the stuttering of Y/N’s heart and the brightness in her eyes is any indication, maybe that isn’t quite the case.  She described him as a lullaby, yes, but she didn’t sound betrayed at the thought of him spinning stories in order to keep her pliable under his grasp.  If anything, her words give the impression that she enjoys it.

“I’ve heard stranger.” Harry murmurs after a moment, his unusually bare forefinger rubbing over his lips pensively as he waits for Y/N to raise her head again. “Thank you.  That’s a compliment, really, saying that I sound like my dad used to.”

“Well, I mean, I’ve never heard your dad speak, so take it with a grain of salt—” Y/N forces out a laugh, despite her cheeks and neck still feeling uncomfortably flushed, “—but I imagine it’s similar.  After all, he raised you, didn’t he?”

Harry nods slowly, his mind so wrapped in his own memories that he doesn’t even think about the incriminating answer about to fall from his lips. “He did, yeah, but it’s been a while since I’ve been able to speak to him.” He admits, pinching his chin between his thumb and index finger as he lifts his left shoulder in an empty shrug. “Memories fade over time.  Things change.  People change.”

Although she can feel that they’re beginning to breach a more serious topic, Y/N doesn’t pull back like she did in the restaurant.  She rationalizes this action to herself as she sips her margarita and collects her thoughts, saying that it’s just because it’s easier to be honest in her apartment than a brunch restaurant. But the truth of the matter is that the longer she spends with Harry, the more Y/N wants to know him. Really know him, outside of their usual arrangement. 

“That’s true,” She agrees with hesitancy etched into her voice, keeping a measured glance on Harry’s body to read his reaction. “But you can’t have changed that much since you last saw him.  When…” Her words trail off when Harry locks his emerald eyes with hers, but she takes a deep breath and finishes her question in determination. “When did he pass away?  How old were you?”

In the immortal’s mind, the answer forms without any delay.  His father had been the first to go in his family; the combination of breathing in smoke from the forge and his age being four years his mother’s senior had stopped his heart before hers.  The news of his death reached Harry a few days after it had happened, and he had just made it back to Holmes Chapel in time to watch the funeral service from afar.  

Despite his appearance being frozen at twenty-six, as it always would be, Harry was nearly twenty-nine to the day of the funeral.  Gemma had been thirty-three by then, standing with their mother and a tall man by her side, who whispered what her brother hoped were reassuring words in her ear.  His sister's eyes had been nearly a perfect mirror of Harry’s, with the exception of a few crow’s feet beginning to show around them.  And his mother had been dressed in widower’s black, a veil pulled over her weeping face to allow her the bit of discretion that was expected in Victorian times.  Harry had been distressed when he saw the veil, despite expecting it to be there; he’d hoped he could get one more glimpse of her eyes before he had to leave that day.  He had entertained the idea of walking over, expressing his condolences, and compelling her to forget she’d seen her lost son, but the thought had twisted an ache into his chest that had nearly brought him to tears, and—

“I was twenty-one when he passed away.” Harry spits the sentence out, and the familiar lie burns his throat in an entirely foreign way than the thirst he’s used to. “He had lung cancer.” At least, that had been Harry’s assumption after he read up on the disease years after his father’s undetermined passing.  It made sense, given that all the grit and soot from the coal and metal grime had found its way into the air of the blacksmith’s shop, and after slaving away for years in order to keep food on the table, it had also eventually made its way into his father’s system… “It progressed quickly.” 

As he watches sympathy glaze itself over Y/N’s eyes, all he can think about is how undeserving he is of it.  Even though he’s compelled the mortal girl in front of him, gained her trust, been invited into her home, and is kindling a connection with her, all for the simple act of drinking her blood, Harry thinks that this might be the most monstrous thing he’s done yet— paint himself as a victim of circumstance, hiding all the wrong-doings he’s ever committed, and allowing Y/N and her softly-beating heart to feel sorry for him. 

The conversation moves to an lighter tone after that, which Harry does on purpose; the less he needs to tell her about his fabricated sob story, the better.  And, truth be told, he’d much rather hear about Y/N’s day-to-day life.  It’s been so long since he had human concerns, and when he did, his concerns certainly didn’t have anything to do with being betrayed by customers because the cafe wifi was down.  It’s almost amusing to him, listening to her rant about all these insignificant people, and he can’t help the way his dimples begin to peek out of his cheeks as she raises her voice at imaginary customers. 

“So I told him, in my most polite voice, that we were aware the wifi was down, and that we’d called the provider to let them know, and that they were sending someone as fast as they could to fix it. And do you know what he said to me?” Y/N widens her eyes in incredulous disbelief as she takes a bite of her fajita, chewing and swallowing quickly to continue with her story with more emphasis. “Do you know what he said?”

“No, I don’t.” Harry shakes his head in endearment, hiding the laugh forming on his rosy lips behind his margarita glass. “What did he say?”

“He said—” Y/N twists her face to mimic the customer’s expression, dropping her voice down five octaves lower as she speaks with a ridiculous tone. “‘Oh, well, can’t you just fix it?  You work here, don’t you?  What else do you get paid for?’ Can you believe that?” She states the last phrase in her normal voice, scoffing at the memory as she crosses her patchwork covered arms across her chest. “Like, I’m a waitress!  I don’t work at an internet company!  I’m trained to bring you water and sandwiches— which are more cucumber than anything with actual substance—  so it’s not my responsibility to figure out why you can’t load Candy Crush on your phone!”

A snicker finally breaks free from Harry’s throat as he watches Y/N angrily stuff a piece of chicken into her mouth. “Sounds like you had a rough day today.”

“That’s pretty average for me, honestly.” Y/N sighs again, rubbing her hand over her forehead as she polishes off the rest of her second margarita. “Ugh, it pissed me off.  I wanted to shove his phone right up his ass and ask if his wifi connection got better.” A small smile breaks out across Y/N’s lips in spite of herself as Harry stifles another giggle at her witty comment. “But I’ve talked about it enough.  How was your day?  What did you do?”

“I did a bit of work in the morning, nothing too noteworthy.” Harry replies, deliberately keeping his answer vague as he twists his lionhead ring around his finger. “And I was about to watch a golf tournament with Xander and Niall when you called.”

Harry thinks nothing of mentioning their names, but is surprised when Y/N’s brow cinch in thought. “Which ones are Xander and Niall?  Is one of them the long haired one?” She asks curiously, pulling her (his) cardigan off one shoulder as the tequila begins to course through her veins and heat her body. 

“The— no.  No, that’s Mitch.” Harry says slowly, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “How did you know that?”

Y/N feels a spike of embarrassment in her stomach, and shyly avoids Harry’s eyes as she answers. “There was a photo of you with a group of guys in your apartment, in the living room.” She mumbles, tapping her fingers against her newly cleaned plate. “One of them— I think he was next to you in the photo?— had long hair.  Another had blue eyes, glasses… and brown hair, I think?  I don’t really remember the rest…”

Harry hums in the back of his throat, quiet and low. “That was probably Niall.” He guesses, finishing his own margarita and setting the glass down gently. “If I’m thinking of the right picture, then Xander was the one standing next to him.”

Y/N pictures the faces in her mind’s eye, imagining the two brunette boys in the clothing from the photo, slumped next to Harry on the couch of his stunning condo, knocking back pints of beer and plates of nachos as they watch golf on TV.  It seems strange to picture Harry doing something so… normal.  She forgets, sometimes, that he’s a regular twenty-six year old man.  In her head, when she thinks of Harry, regular is the last word that comes to her mind— even when he’s sitting across from her in a casual outfit, doing something as simple as eating dinner while he asks her about her day, Y/N struggles to remember that this man is just that: a man.  

Maybe, she ponders, as Harry stands up with the explanation of making more margaritas falling off his lips, it’s because she’s only ever really been alone with him.  With the exception of the club where they met, and his friends interrupting their weekend a few weeks prior (her cheeks flame at the recalling of the embarrassing memory), Y/N has only ever seen Harry in her own context.  

As the blender whirs to life behind her, the human twists in her chair to catch a glimpse of the object of her thoughts.  Even beneath his opaque shirt, she can see the muscles of Harry’s back flexing as he bends down to slice a lime, squeezing the juice into the top of the blender while holding his jeweled hand underneath to catch any seeds.  When Harry is around her, he’s charming, cocky, self-assured, and— on the extremely rare occasion— vulnerable.  What’s he like around his friends?  

Just as cocky, Y/N is sure; she can’t picture Harry letting go of his signature smirk so easily.  But does anything else about him shift when exposed to different company?  Is there different vocabulary that slips from his mouth?  What about his tone of voice?  Does that change, too, like Y/N’s used to when she was around Bradley, or when she’s with customers?  He mentioned earlier that he’d been watching golf, and that was the last sport she'd ever think he’d have an affinity for, let alone one he’d enjoy enough to make a day out of watching tournaments.  What other personality traits and pastimes is he keeping from her?  If she were to be a fly on the wall while he was with his friends, would she see someone completely unrecognizable in his Gucci boots and translucent shirts?

The sudden lack of noise from the blender snaps Y/N from her thoughts, and Harry detaches the pitcher and carries it to the table, filling her empty glass with a smile. 

“There you are, miss.” He winks at her quickly before filling his own cup and standing back from the table with a grin, his free hand folded behind his back as he straightens his posture. “Now,” He begins, his accent slipping into a more posh tongue as he bows his head lightly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Despite her worries, a soft laugh rolls from Y/N at his impersonation of a server. “Yeah, actually.” She drops her voice lower again, plastering an angry expression onto her face as she reaches into her cardigan pocket and retrieves her phone. “Your wifi is down.  What kind of restaurant doesn’t have wifi?  Can’t you fix this?”

A loud snort echoes from Harry’s mouth as he sets the blender back down on the counter before sliding back into his seat across from her. “Sorry, love,” He laughs, his regular accent back in its place. “That’s a bit above my paygrade.  I can, however, offer you some compensation.”

Wrapping her fingers around the icy margarita glass, Y/N leans forward, resting her chin on her free hand as she appraises Harry with a kinked brow. “Is that so?” She replies in her regular voice as well, her interest piqued. “What kind of compensation?”

“It’s part of our Friday Night Special,” Harry slides his hand across the table and pushes the baggy rainbow sleeve of Y/N’s cardigan down her arm in order to brush his cool fingers up and down her bare skin. “And it features bottomless margaritas paired with cunnilingus from our most handsome waiter.”

A fluttering warmth begins to knot itself around Y/N’s core, but she does her best to keep her composure as she straightens her spine and glances around the apartment. “Sounds intriguing.  So where’s the handsome waiter?”

Harry’s pillowy lips plunk down into an exaggerated frown as he presses a hand to his chest, his other hand continuing to stroke over Y/N’s forearm. “Ouch, Watson.  That hurt.  Might need you to kiss it better.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N challenges, lifting her drink to her lips and sipping it slowly. “Where exactly does it hurt?”

Instead of answering her query, Harry simply stands from his chair and rounds the table to stop in front of Y/N, extending his hand to her.  She lays her fingers inside his cool grasp, allowing him to pull her from her seat.  He’s closer than she realized, she thinks, as her chest brushes with his and the intoxicating scent of his cologne fills her senses, only getting stronger as Harry nudges her nose with his own, his lips just barely gliding over her own. The copper specks around his pupils glitz under the muted lighting, electric from the alcohol, from the sensation of her close proximity, and from the ever-present intention of getting between her legs.

When Harry finally speaks, his thick cadence washes over her just as much as his tequila-scented breath, his free-hand tugging suggestively at the waistband of her leggings. “If we go to your bedroom, then I can show you.”

“Mm, is that so?” The girl gives in to his gesture, stepping forward as the vampire begins treading backwards towards their new— though entirely familiar— destination. “You’re gonna show me, then?”

“I most certainly am.” The boy keeps their bodies close, making sure that his lips continue to just barely graze hers as he moves, teasing her nerves into a frenzy. “I plan on showing you over, and over, and over…”

Y/N can’t bring herself to resist the offer.  She’s only human, after all.

///

The next morning, Harry wakes up tangled in Y/N’s sheets to two surprises: the sheets on Y/N’s side of the bed are cold and bare, and that Harry is actually waking up.  

Although he remembers falling back onto the scattered sheets the night before (after coaxing three orgasms out of Y/N and her coaxing two from him in return), he doesn’t remember drifting off into the sleep he so rarely needs, and because of that, Harry feels disoriented and groggy in a way he hasn’t in a long time.  He does his best to blink the haze from his usually sharp eyes, knuckling at them with his cool fingers as he attempts to get his bearings.

His sleep-fogged mind struggles to recall what had happened after Y/N had fallen asleep.  She’d drifted off easily and quickly, her sweat-soaked body tucked into Harry’s with her head resting in the crook of his neck.  That noted detail sticks out in his memory because it had made Harry pause before biting her.  She’d been so comfortable next to him, and in such an inconvenient position that Harry didn’t want to shift her to drink. After debating with himself for a few moments, he’d eventually decided on an alternative and had lifted her fragile wrist to his lips.

Even half awake, Harry’s lips quirk up at the hazy memory.  He recalls the feeling of her hummingbird pulse thrumming beneath her delicate skin, practically vibrating against his lips as he stamped a kiss over her vein before biting down.  Her blood had a weaker flow there, but that was alright; he’d just sucked a little harder to coax the liquid from her body, feeling his mouth overflow with her welcomed taste as well as with the supernatural chemicals that inject into her system and dull any pain his feeding might cause. He’d been careful to gauge his consumption by the strength of her heartbeat, and when he’d finished, he’d sealed the wound with a bit of his own blood, as usual. He’d made sure Y/N was healed and settled back in his arms before relaxing into the pillows to listen to her breathing, the soft pillows and her radiating body heat feeling more soothing than usual. Somewhere between counting the movement of her lungs and the sun rising, Harry had fallen unconscious.

It’s strange, being up after Y/N.  Harry has grown used to rising before her and making breakfast, or even just coffee, and there’s something disorienting about being in her bed alone, without her inherent warmth and soft skin, and only the ghost of her sugary scent left behind.  He briefly wonders if this is how she feels when she wakes up to cold sheets and no one beside her (although Harry suspects the lack of his frozen body would make the bed a more comfortable temperature), and thinks that maybe he should begin to lay in bed with her a little longer; if he’s going to fake a relationship with her, it should be a relationship where her partner wants to be around her, and isn’t awake before the sun.

And that’s another thing.  The golden orange light of the rising L.A. sun is just beginning to stream through the closed curtains, so what time is it?  It can’t be any later than seven— on a Saturday, no less— and at such an early hour, Harry would expect Y/N to still be dreamily dozing in bed.  What had drawn her away from her comfortable position in Harry’s arms?

As the sun continues to rise, the light begins to streak onto Y/N’s empty side of the bed and, instinctually, Harry begins to reach for the beam, craving the warmth she took with her when she abandoned the sheets.  Instead of the expected touch of heat, however, Harry is jarred by a burning sensation ripping across his icy flesh.

The vampire yanks his hand back in a flash, his face screwing in silent pain as he bites back a yell of anguish, but the damage has already been done.  The tips of his fingers are puckered with red blisters, which throb as he flexes his hand in the safety of the shadows. Harry digs his sharp teeth into his lip harder, forcing himself to inhale slowly through his nose and exhale shakily through his mouth.

It takes a few moments for him to collect himself, breathing deeply with his eyes closed as he does so, and as he counts his own breaths like he’d counted Y/N’s the night before, what should’ve been an obvious thought enters his mind: why had he burned?  He’s wearing his lionhead ring, which has eyes made of those precious crystals that protect his inhuman skin from sunlight, and as long as he’s wearing it, the sun shouldn’t be able to…

Harry’s sight snaps completely open as he jerks forward in bed, his head throbbing from the sudden movement.  When he’d first awoken, he’d attributed his grogginess and dry eyes to sleeping for the first time in weeks, but as Harry’s jade gaze settles upon his uninjured hand, he realizes the truth.  That disorienting feeling isn’t from sleep, but from the sunlight that had begun to seep through the curtains and affect his body, bouncing off the glossy walls of Y/N’s room and reflecting off her picture frames and furniture.  What would normally not be an issue suddenly becomes the bane of his existence, and what usually isn’t able to affect his body immediately does, obvious in the agonizing sweltering writhing through every single one of his dormant arteries. And all because his lionhead ring is missing from its rightful place.

Granted, Harry hadn’t worn most of his rings to Y/N’s apartment the night before, seeing as how they planned to spend the night in, but he’d kept his mother’s opal and the lionhead securely on his middle finger and pinky, just as he always did.  The former brings him memories of his mother, and helps him keep a piece of her— and who he once was— with him in this strange modern time.  The latter had been a rebirth gift from a family he’d rather forget, and if it didn’t keep him from flambéing himself every time he stepped into the sun, he wouldn’t wear it at all. In all honesty, he probably would’ve chucked into Hell, if he could. 

But the reality of his afterlife is that Harry needs that ring.  So why is it missing from his hand?

Cradling his blistered digits to his bare chest, the wounded vampire tosses back the covers, careful to avoid the streaks of sunshine beginning to light up the small room.  His icy chest soothes the burn in his fingers, which are taking longer to heal than Harry would’ve thought, but if the grating itch of his dry eyes is any indication, the effects of the sun aren’t just limited to direct physical harm, but are also stopping his body from healing itself as quickly as usual.

Harry presses his good hand to his dizzy head and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet onto the ground as firmly as he can to center himself, refusing to cripple under the extraneous circumstances. He fishes his grey boxers from their signature spot on Y/N’s floor, slipping them on slowly as even the smallest of movements seems to strain his muscles beyond reason. As the elastic band snaps around his hips, another frightening possibility seizes his body: his mother’s ring could also be gone. He yanks his hand away from his head, and it takes his eyes a moment to focus on the opal ring.  At least he can breathe a sigh of relief about one thing— if his mother’s ring had disappeared, Harry’s not quite sure what he would’ve done.  

And that thought brings his spinning mind back to the present.  His lionhead ring is gone, and he can’t so much as step into sunlight without undergoing intense, insurmountable pain, so how is he going to find it?

Another groan falls from Harry’s mouth as he rests his forehead in his palm, propping his elbow against his knee so he can shield his eyes from the sunlight by hiding in between his legs.  Daylight talismans are extremely rare; he can’t exactly waltz into the nearest Wal-Mart and pick one up.  The crystals that give vampires such cherished immunity all date back to the medieval era, when vampires were considered mythical legends instead of just plain myths, and what few of the crystals are left are hidden deep within old ruins in the remote wilderness of Europe.  If Harry hadn’t been given his shortly after he was turned, he’s not sure he would have been lucky enough to own one.  He remembers Niall telling him how he had to search every night for months before he found a crystal hidden inside a ruin in Wales, and Xander had once recounted the story of stealing his from the vampire that turned him.  Even Mitch had struggled with the crystals before; although his ring had originally been a gift from the vampire that transformed him, he had to crack the crystal in half and set it into a new ring for Sarah when she had met her untimely demise. 

Vampires have been known to beg, lie, cheat, and steal in order to get their hands on a daylight crystal, so if someone managed to sneak in and take Harry’s lionhead ring while he and Y/N were sleeping, then Harry is going to have a fucking hell of a time trying to get it back. 

As the thought enters Harry’s dazed mind, a chill runs down his back, crawling across his spine and down his tailbone in an unsettling shiver as he slowly turns back to Y/N’s empty side of the bed.  If someone— if another creature just like him, who would be the only other person capable of recognizing such a treasure— got into the apartment and took his ring, and found an unconscious mortal girl with the sweetest honey and lavender liquid pulsing through her veins, then…

The sheets and curtains of the room blow in a breeze as Harry jets off the bed, forgetting to control his inhuman speed as he throws the sliding door open and stumbles into the hallway.  More sunlight streams through the windows of the living room, and it’s taking all of Harry’s dulled concentration to avoid the beams as he staggers towards the kitchen.

It’s not until the immortal smells Y/N’s familiar fragrance and hears the beating of her heart, in tune with her quiet humming, that the fear Harry hadn’t realized had tightened his chest flows out of him in one fell swoop.  He does his best to force even breaths in and out of his lungs, watching as Y/N raises her coffee mug to her lips and blows on the hot liquid before taking a small sip.

She’s dressed in his multicoloured patchwork cardigan again, buttoned up to provide her with warmth and modesty, but it slips down her bare shoulder in a way that allows Harry to see she’s wearing nothing underneath it.  Although the cardigan pools around her silky thighs— which are marked with bruises from the night before— Harry can see the tiniest peak of her panties beneath the fabric, and if he were in a better frame of mind, he might’ve noticed how they’re not the pair she wore last night (that pair had been ripped right down the middle in his frantic attempt to get them off).  However, Harry’s eyes quickly settle on Y/N’s hands, which, after she sets down her coffee cup, pick up Harry’s lionhead ring and begin turning it around in her fingers.

When he sees the ring in her delicate grasp, a wave of sheer rage begins to rumble through Harry’s chest, and it takes every fiber of his undead being to keep it at bay as he approaches the mortal girl. “Y/N,” Harry rasps lowly, voice heavy with the exhaustion that his newfound vulnerability has stacked onto his shoulders. He stands in the one spot of shadow near the kitchen counter, trying hard not to glower. “What are you doing?”

When Y/N turns her head to look at him, her sleepy face smiles softly, eyes nearly as bright as the infuriating sun. Maybe that’s why, Harry thinks, it feels like it burns.

“Morning,” She says quietly, her own voice just as sleepy as Harry’s as she picks up a grey cloth from the table and begins to run it over the ring with precision and care. “How did you sleep?”

It’s a simple, innocent question, and Harry knows that, but his mind can’t think in simple and innocent terms right now.  As the light filling the room begins to pound his head even more, Harry’s thoughts revert back to his most instinctual behavior— rough carnal impulse. “What are you doing?” He asks again, his voice lower than before.  He sounds dangerous, and he means to.  How could she possibly think that taking something from him without his permission is fine?

“I’m polishing your ring.” Y/N keeps that good-natured smile on her face as she replies, but Harry can see the smallest waver in it as she begins to sense his distorted energy from across the room. “It was tarnished, and I have a polishing cloth, so I thought I’d—”

“Give it back.” Harry doesn’t mean to snarl the phrase, but he can’t stop himself from doing it as he thrusts out his hand expectantly; it’s taking all his concentration to keep himself from baring his teeth and letting his eyes bleed red. 

Y/N doesn’t fight him on it, and drops the ring carefully into his awaiting hand without letting her warm skin meet his.  She watches with confused eyes as Harry slips the newly shined lionhead ring onto his finger, a breath of relief sighing from his red lips the moment the metal meets his skin. He finishes twisting it into its designated spot, and he feels like he can actually breathe again.

The human girl waits a moment for an explanation from Harry, some spoken word or action to justify the hostility rolling off of him as he clutches the jeweled hand to his chest.  As the moments pass, however, Harry offers no explanation, or anything at all as he takes deep and measured inhales through his nose, as if he’s trying to relax. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N offers the words quietly, turning in her chair to properly face him with sincere eyes. “I just noticed that it was more tarnished than your other jewelry, and I thought I could—”

“You can’t take my rings from me.” Harry answers in a harsh voice, his face reflecting about as much warmth as stone on a winter’s day. “I thought I’d lost it.  You can’t do that.”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeats the phrase again, gentler this time as she wraps her hands around her steaming mug.  She had guessed that the opal ring was his mother’s, but like Harry’s ruby ring and initial rings, she’d deduced this lionhead decal was more for decoration than anything.  If it was something important, one would figure that he’d take better care of it.  But it seems she’s not as adept at reading Harry as she’d like to think, because his explosive reaction had been totally unexpected.  For the first time since she met him, Y/N feels uneasy in his presence.  Had she really offended him that much?

The truth of the situation, unbeknownst to her, is that Harry’s reaction is no more purposefully malicious than Y/N’s intentions. Although the ring is back on his finger, and the crystals are beginning to protect him again, Harry’s thoughts are still muddied as he glances around the apartment, carefully surveying the circumstance like the top predator he pretends not to be.  There’s still a throbbing in his skull, and his eyes remain painfully dry, despite the fact that his healing has kicked in and mended his blistered fingertips.  In this moment, Harry feels weaker than he has in centuries; if someone were to attack right now, he wouldn’t be able to react quickly enough to protect himself. How could his aching head afford him any clear plan of attack?  How could his burning eyes show him every approaching danger?  How did he let himself become so relaxed— so stupidly lax— that he didn’t notice a mere human slipping off his most precious and needed object as he slept soundly in her bed?

“I really am sorry, Harry.” Rising from her chair with her quiet speech, Y/N steps towards him, hand outstretched to touch his inked forearm. “I didn’t know—”

Her hot fingertips against Harry’s frozen skin jar the vampire, triggering his fight or flight instincts as he tenses beneath her touch. “No—” He wrenches his arm away hurriedly, the searing graze reminding him of the sunlight that had harmed him just seconds ago, his wild eyes meeting Y/N’s in a feral frenzy. 

Although her chest barely moves, Harry can hear the stuttering breath that the girl sucks in through her teeth, her eyes widening at the severity of his actions. “I’m sorry.” She whispers the phrase again, her fingers jerking back from Harry’s arm in shock. “I…”

The more time passes, the more Harry regains control of himself, and as Harry melds his shattered composure back together, he can see the fear beginning to stain its way onto Y/N’s face.  The uneven beating of her heart pricks his ears, as does the scuff of the floor beneath her bare feet as she takes a step back from him.  When that uncertain fear reaches her irises, Harry is suddenly flashed back to their first date, when he’d been worried that she might be scared of being alone with him, and how delighted he’d been when he realized that wasn’t the case.  And now, as a sick feeling begins to settle in his stomach, he knows he’s blown it. 

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Harry urges himself to relax. 

“No, I’m sorry.” He softens his voice as much as he can muster in order to apologize, rubbing his charred eyes with one hand, hoping they’re still the canopy green Y/N is familiar with. “M’just half asleep still, and I was worried that— I’m sorry.” Harry extends his ringed hand in invitation, desperately craving the warmth of Y/N’s touch now that he’s leveled out, but not wanting to take it unwillingly. He wants her to feel safe enough to give it to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

There’s a moment of hesitation that flickers in her eyes, but it quickly passes as the mortal lays her hand within his. “You didn’t scare me.” She reassures him, but Harry can hear the falseness of her response immediately, and that guarded demeanor only intensifies the nausea rattling inside him.

Is she lying to save his feelings, he wonders, or to make herself look tougher?  No matter which may be the truth, Harry hates that she has to feel the need to lie.  He’d been upset, yes, but he should know better.  And he should know that she doesn’t know better.  She thought she’d been doing something nice for him; she has no idea about the torturous results his ring protects him from.  And she doesn’t know because Harry refuses to tell her— because he refuses to subject her to that perverted knowledge.  This is his own doing. 

“I did. I did frighten you, and I was rude, and I’m truly sorry.” Harry sighs heavily, dragging his fingers through his sleep-tousled curls. “My ring is just— it’s very important to me, and I don’t really like to take it off, so maybe just—just ask next time, yeah?” He murmurs the words in a soothing tone, his thumb sweeping over her knuckles in a poor attempt to make up for the way he’d berated her. “I know you didn’t have any bad intentions, and I’m not angry with you for taking it, but it just scared me when I woke up and it was gone.” 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeats yet again, and although Harry can feel her melting into his touch, there’s still a hint of uncertainty lingering beneath her words. 

Harry forces a grin on his chapped lips, which he wets with his tongue before speaking again. “S’alright, dove.  No harm, no foul.  And no more apologies, yeah?” He brushes a finger over her cheek, trying his best to put on a lighthearted front for the girl. “It was rather tarnished, actually— needed a good cleaning.” 

A shy smile finally creeps its way onto Y/N’s face, and Harry has to stop himself from breathing an audible sigh of content at both the gesture and the lack of prying about why that ring was dirtier than the rest (the answer to said question is just as simple as it is complicated: it reminds Harry of someone he’d rather forget, and if he didn’t need it, he’d drown it in the deepest ocean he could find— keeping it clean is the least of his concerns).

“How about breakfast, hm?  It’s early, but we could make some pancakes, or—” Harry glances at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, reading the time with surprise before his gaze travels back to Y/N with a confused look. “It’s not even seven yet.  What time did you get up?”

“Around 6:15?  6:30?” She lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, and Harry’s cardigan slips down her arm with the motion. “I don’t really remember.”

With his other hand still squeezing her own, Harry rugs the sleeve of the cardigan back up her shoulder, smoothing it over her morning-cooled skin. “It’s a Saturday, darling.  What were you doing up so early?”

Despite her heartbeat having not quite returned to its usual tempo, Y/N nuzzles into Harry’s touch as he pulls her closer to him. “Couldn’t really sleep, I guess.” Tucking her face into his neck for a moment, Y/N indulges a penetrating inhale, enjoying the remnants of his mahogany and vanilla cologne before stepping back and past Harry to the cabinet.  

Standing on her tiptoes, Y/N opens the door and retrieves a pink flowered mug before sliding down the counter to her coffee maker. “Want some coffee?” She asks, touching the glass of the carafe lightly to make sure it’s still warm. “There’s butter in the fridge, I think, if you want to make your disgusting drink.”

Ignoring the dig at his beverage of choice— which Harry has explained to her, multiple times, has many health benefits (not that he needs them) and just tastes better than coffee with cream— the vampire leans his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest as his brow furrows over his darkening eyes. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He questions, his attention glued to Y/N’s actions as she seems to deliberately avoid his gaze.  He analyzes the dark circles under her eyes, apparent even from just her side profile, and a spark of concern ignites his chest.  Could this be his fault?  Is drinking her blood beginning to take a physical toll on her body?  His blood has been healing her bite marks, but what about her iron levels?  Is her circulation being affected?  Mitch has told him multiple times that drinking from humans is okay once or twice a week, as long as there’s a grace period in between feeding, but Mitch has also never had the same human for as long as Harry has had Y/N.  Have the weeks they’ve spent together begun to unravel her?

When Y/N simply shrugs in response to his question, and offers no other words of explanation, a tired sigh falls from Harry’s lips as he steps towards her, taking the now-filled coffee mug from her hands and setting it down on the counter.  He wraps his arms around Y/N’s shoulders, hugging the girl into his chest for a moment to get a gauge on her body’s response.  Her heartbeat stutters, yes, but that’s a usual response to being wrapped inside Harry’s embrace, and it returns to normal after a few beats.  Her body feels just as warm as it usually does, and her chest is rising and falling just as it should be.  Nudging his face into her hair, he breathes in deeply, filling his lungs with her fragrance.  No, nothing smells out of place, and her blood had tasted as delicious and as strong as ever last night.  If she’s having trouble sleeping, the cause isn’t anything tangible. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Harry mumbles the words into her hair before lifting his head up, extracting the girl from his arms just enough so that he can see her face. “If something is bothering you and keeping you up, then you can wake me up, too.”

Y/N worries her pillowy bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes become entranced by Harry’s rosemary gaze. “I know I could, but I didn’t want to.  You—” She swallows hard in an attempt to clear the thickness from her throat as her cheeks begin to burn. “You were sleeping, and I never see you sleep.” Y/N’s voice retreats into a sheepish tone at the admittance, her eyes falling from Harry’s stare to the floor between them. “You always fall asleep after me, and you’re always awake before me.  You need rest, too, H.”

While Harry would normally laugh at that simple phrase— at the fact that Y/N doesn’t know how wrong she is— Harry’s dimples remain dormant as he focuses on the concern in her voice. “I—” His voice catches in his throat, and he has to clear it before he can say anything else. “I sleep just fine.  Better, in fact, when I’m with you.” He confesses, his thumbs brushing over the exposed skin of Y/N’s neck. 

And after Y/N has extracted herself from his grip to take a sip of her coffee, after she teasingly groans while watching Harry drop a pat of butter into his own steaming mug, after he begins to crack eggs into a pan as Y/N starts to lay bacon on a baking sheet, after all that, Harry finally realizes what lodged in his throat. It dawns on him just as Y/N slips a pink apron over his bare, faintly hickey-bruised chest to protect him from splatters of grease, giggling to herself as he poses with his hand on his hip and makes a vulgar joke about how this looks like the setup to a cheesy porno. 

The vampire comes to the realization that Y/N takes notice of him. 

She notices when he doesn’t sleep.  She notices his exposed skin that could potentially be burned while cooking.  She notices the expressions on his face, reads the tone of his voice, knows when to press a matter and when to leave it be.  And she’s concerned.  She’s concerned about not seeing him sleep.  She’s concerned about him accidentally getting hurt.  She’s concerned about the swings in his moods, the shortness of his answers.  And while Harry knows her real concerns should be about allowing herself to be in such close proximity to someone— something— like him, he can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest at the thought of her worrying about him. 

As much as Harry likes to pretend otherwise, he knows he’s not easy to be around sometimes.  He can be vain, self-centered, self-serving, and inconsiderate.  He can be selfish, dishonest, and manipulative.  His mood can teeter at the drop of a hat, and he changes his mind like the weather on the best of days.  And on his worst of days, sometimes Harry wonders if anyone could care for him, or even stand to be around him, if it wasn’t a necessity. 

Although he’d never admit it, when Harry reflects on his friendships, he can feel a degree of insecurity in the threads that tie him to his crew.  He’s fairly certain that if he and Mitch met under different circumstances— circumstances when both of them were human— they would likely still be friends.  Maybe not as close as they are today, but friends, at the very least.  When it comes to Niall, Xander, and Adam, however… he’s not so sure.  Yes, he cares for them more than he’ll ever care for anyone again, and his loyalty to them is unwavering, but on his worst days, Harry can’t help but wonder if they would be friends if their connection hadn’t been forged on the basis of what they are, and understanding something that no one else can.  If being vampires hadn’t placed them in each other’s lives and sealed them in a bond of venom and blood, would they even have given the others a second thought?  Would any of them have wanted Harry in their lives?  Harry wants to think yes, but it’s not a question of what he wants; the truth is, Harry is uncertain. 

But when Y/N sits across from him with a smear of ketchup on her bottom lip, smiling softly at Harry as he wipes it off with his thumb, and he can’t stop himself from smiling back, he realizes something that’s never occurred to him before.  He’s able to be cared for by someone who is drawn to him for all the reasons humans are normally drawn to each other, and not because they have a mutual understanding of what it’s like to be an other.

Of course, he knows there’s a certain degree of falsity in that; part of his charm and addictive qualities come from what he is, and Y/N, like any other mortal, isn’t immune to that.  But instead of allowing herself to be driven away by the usual uneasiness that pairs with being so close to a vampire for so long, Y/N is leaning closer to him, laughing as he cracks a bad joke, kissing him over their breakfast, and showing evidence that she— against all odds— wants to know him.  And the thought sends a fluttering below Harry’s ribs. 

He wishes, just for a moment, that he could be capable of feeling the same. He wishes he could have the decency to give this girl the proper relationship she wants, or even the decency to break her heart quickly before she gets too attached to someone incapable of seeing her as anything more than a takeout meal.  He wishes he could get to know her— truly get to know her, without any ulterior motives.

But Harry is vain, self-centered, self-serving, and inconsiderate.  He’s selfish, dishonest, and manipulative.  And he has his fangs too deep in this mortal to let her go. 

///

“Are you sure I can’t pick you up?” Harry slides his phone between his ear and his shoulder in order to snag his keychain from his pocket, fumbling for the right key before inserting it into his locked door. “I can just drop my groceries off and then swing by your cafe, love.  It’s no trouble.”

“No, really, it’s fine, H.” Y/N insists from the other end of the line, her voice nearly drowned out from the roar of L.A. traffic around her. “I already left work, and I’m nearly home.  I’ll be over at your place within, like, forty-five minutes, I think?  I just have to change out of my uniform.”

With his front door now unlocked, Harry grabs his phone from its perch on his shoulder before pushing open the door with his hand full of groceries, stepping inside his apartment and nudging the door shut with his foot. “I know, but it’s a long walk to my place, isn’t it?”

“It’s, like, twenty minutes— practically nothing.  And besides, I have to stop at the post office and mail a letter to my parents.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirks up as he rounds the corner to his kitchen, setting his grocery bags on the island before leaning his hip against the kitchen counter, his now free hand braced against the cool marble. “You still send your parents letters?  Can’t you just call them?” He asks, tapping a ringed finger against the stone.

“If you knew my parents, you’d send letters, too.” Y/N sighs into the speaker, and Harry’s inhuman ears can hear the jangling of her keys in her hand.  He can picture her searching for them like she did the night they met, digging into her purse until she’s elbow deep, her tongue tucked between her teeth in concentration.

Despite the distinctive sound of a lock turning, Harry can’t stop himself from asking about her well-being. He’s so used to doing it with his other friends, it slips out on impulse. “Are you home now?  Made it alright?”

There’s a hint of exasperated amusement in Y/N’s voice when she responds. “Yes, I managed to walk home all by myself.  Didn’t even get murdered.” There’s another thud, and Harry imagines her shutting her door, pushing her weight against it to lock it properly. “I’m pretty good at taking care of myself, you know.  I have good instincts.” 

If she’s allowed him to get this close to her, Harry thinks, then her instincts aren’t exactly the caliber she imagines them to be, but he bites his tongue to stop himself from correcting her. “I’m sure you do, darling.” He murmurs the reply as he opens his fridge to begin stocking it with the items he’d purchased earlier. “Oh, by the way, make sure you’re wearing comfortable shoes, yeah?  We’re going to be doing a bit of walking later.”

“Right.  And you’re not telling me where we’re going because…?”

“Because surprises are fun.”

When Y/N huffs in response, Harry pictures the girl with a scowl on her face, her arms crossed tightly over her tummy as she gives him an endearing glare. “Not when you’re the one who’s being surprised.” 

Still, despite her protests, Harry hears the rustling of clothing as she pulls off her work polo, followed by the clanking of her belt, the snap of a button, and the familiar rustle of her jeans being peeled off her legs. “You just worry about undressing yourself, alright?  It must be difficult, since you’ve grown so used to me doing it for you.”

“Uh huh.  I’m hanging up now.” Y/N deadpans into the phone, but Harry can tell there’s a lingering smile underneath her flat words. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Alright, doll.  See you soon.” Harry sets a carton of eggs in the fridge before closing it, hanging up the call and slipping his phone back into his black slacks.  

It takes Harry a few more minutes to put the rest of his groceries away in his pantry.  He made sure to stock up on all the ingredients needed to make pancakes at the grocery store, as well as picking up a carton of the fancy pomegranate juice that Y/N had mentioned she was fond of.  In fact, as he was wandering the aisles of his local Whole Foods, he’d found himself seeking out the snacks that he’d seen in her cupboards.  He knows that humans need to eat much more often than vampires do, and seeing as how all the activities Y/N engages in at his condo are rather exhausting and energy-burning, he thought she’d need proper fuel.

After he folds the reusable cloth tote bags he’d brought to the grocery store and puts them back in the pantry, Harry climbs up his glass stairs to his bedroom.  He takes a moment to evaluate his appearance in the full length mirror hanging on the back of his door, sweeping over every detail with a careful eye.  His outfit is alright for what he has planned, he decides; his black slacks and scuffed white vans are comfortable, but more importantly, his white t-shirt embossed with a Hollywood Bowl print that clings to the muscles of his inked arms and broad chest, which Harry knows Y/N will enjoy.  His curls, however, need a bit of tending to, and Harry slinks into his bathroom to add a bit more product to his chestnut locks, getting rid of the little frizz that had developed in the L.A. heat in order to fix his curl pattern.  

As for his jewelry, he leaves on his usual rings: his gold initial pieces, his mother’s opal, his ruby, an engraved band, and his lionhead ring, which shines under the bathroom lights thanks to Y/N’s careful efforts the week before.  Once those are secure, he fastens his pearl necklace around his neck, and fixes the clasp of his cross before slipping a plain gold hoop into his pierced ear.  Once he’s satisfied with his accessories, Harry spritzes his favourite cologne across his body, giving his appearance one more look over as he leaves his bathroom and passes the full length mirror in his bedroom again.  

The Rolex on his wrist tells him that Y/N is due over any moment, and he’s just making sure his Gucci wallet is securely tucked in his trouser pocket when Harry’s ears prick up at the sound of two pairs of feet stomping into his condo downstairs.  It only takes him a moment more to identify the intruders based on their step patterns, and a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he checks the time again before sauntering down the stairs.

“And just what do you two,” Harry calls to his unexpected friends as he rounds the corner of the stairs, his eyebrow quirked in question as he steps down from the last platform, “think you’re doing here?”

“We wanted some change in scenery.” Niall quips sarcastically, emerging from the end of the entrance corridor with his hands in his pockets, shoulders shrugging casually. “And I told Xander you might be shirtless, which got him to tag along. But you’re not, much to his disappointment. Though I do think the way you’re about to burst out of that tee suffices. Isn’t that right, Xanny?” 

“That’s not true!” Xander snaps hotly, his cheeks blazing and glare electric as Niall cackles boyishly, stepping around him and towards the kitchen, like he always does when he walks into Harry’s apartment. The tanned man glowers at the other vampire as he makes a beeline for Harry’s refrigerator, slowly pinning his gaze back onto the owner of the condo. He clears his throat awkwardly before offering a solid explanation for their sudden visit. “Adam cancelled on pub trivia night, so we thought you might be available instead.”

Harry shakes his head with a sigh as he makes his way into the kitchen, as well— mostly to make sure Niall doesn’t reach for any of the expensive liquors he has arranged on his bar shelves; they took too long to collect for him to just allow a single person to down one bottle like a shot— and leans both elbows against the marble island. “Sorry, mate.  I’ve got a date with Y/N.”

“So bring her.” Niall pipes up from the fridge, a stolen bottle of Harry’s favourite beer already in his hand. Harry doesn’t complain— it’s a better substitute than his forty year aged scotch. “She went to uni, didn’t she?  She must be smart.”

“I’ve got better things planned for us than pub trivia with two obnoxious knobheads.” Harry retorts, his lips tugging into a smirk at Niall’s responding eyeroll. “That’s not very romantic, is it?  Taking her on a double date with you two?”

“And that’s not very nice, H. I’m offended you wouldn’t go on a double date with Xander and I.” The Irishman sniffles with fake sincerity, biting the bottle cap off his beer despite knowing that Harry keeps a bottle opener in the kitchen drawer to his right. 

Xander watches the spectacle with distaste, his nose wrinkling as Niall spits the cap from his mouth into his hand. “And I’m offended you’d think I’d date someone who does that.”

“It’s not like you have standards.”

“Hey!”

“But then again, no one sets a bar the way I do.”

“The only bar you set for me was potential alcoholism.” Xander mutters spitefully.

“I’d make a great boyfriend.” Niall interrupts with airy confidence, ignoring his friends bickering and taking a deep swig of his beverage, smacking his lips appreciatively. “But humans are too fragile to keep around for long, and most vampires are fucking psychotic. Unfortunately.”

“What about Charlotte?” Harry suggests nonchalantly, hooking his index finger into the cabinet beneath him and fishing for a coaster. He shuts the drawer and skims the item across the top of the counter towards Niall, just in case the man wants to put his glass container down. This is real marble, after all. “She seems pretty tame.” 

Niall glances at the coaster, but doesn’t make any conscious effort to set his drink down. Harry should’ve known; Niall isn’t one to put a pint down until it’s empty, but the possibility is there, nonetheless. It’s not his fault he likes taking care of his home. 

Niall sighs through his nose dismissively, following it with a light rattle of his head. “Charlotte’s too...smart. She’s a bit out of my league, and I feel like she’d get bored of me easily. Also, how would you know if she’s tame or not? You rarely hang out whenever she’s around.” 

“That’s because she hates me.” Harry states flatly, as if it should be obvious. And it should, considering the young woman had not held back on expressing her strong dislike towards the curly brunette. Harry has thick skin and words never hurt him, but Charlotte has a surprisingly vicious vocabulary; if he hadn’t been amused by her anger, she would have come pretty close to genuinely chipping his ego. 

Niall chortles softly. “Well, I mean, you can’t really blame her, can you? You’re kind of a prick.”

“A proper asshole, actually.” Xander chimes in, drumming his digits against the table’s surface and giving Harry a bright, innocent smile. 

The immortal momentarily casts his eyes towards the ceiling in mild annoyance. “Yeah, well, that’s just the way I am. If her and Miss Billy Ray Cyrus can’t handle some dark humor and dirty banter, that’s not my problem. Everyone else seems to like me just fine.” 

“That’s debatable.” Xander corrects. 

“You’re just mad I fucked you once and decided that was enough.” 

“Anywho,” Niall interferes, waving around his beer in order to catch his friends’ attention and prevent a catastrophic World War V, he proceeeds to swivel the topic back onto himself, “like I said, I’d make a great partner. I’m funny, I’ve got a whole shelf full of PS4 games, I like to think my oral skills are pretty decent, and—”

“Have you ever made a girl wet her sheets?” Harry prods with entertained curiosity, cocking an eyebrow questioningly.

Niall pauses mid-sentence with his drink perched to his lips, eyes flitting around thoughtfully as he shovels through cluttered memories of drunken one night stands and fleeting relationships. He relents with a sheepish scoff, shoulders sagging. “...No.”

“Then you’re not as skilled as you think.” Harry remarks passively, titling his head to the side with finality. “And I’m willing to bet Mitch’s next stock of O negative that eighty percent of your hookups probably faked it.” 

“Oi, bet, then.” Niall snorts, grinning around the spout of his beverage as he finishes his sip. He wiggles his brows playfully, squaring his shoulders proudly. “You can’t fake a leg-shake, darling.” 

“A leg-shake?” Harry inquires carefully, pursing his lips to keep from sputtering into pompous laughter. “You mean like this?” He then proceeds to dramatically buckle his right leg, immediately debunking Niall’s ridiculous theory. “Just like that?” 

The Irish bloke’s face drops into a scorned scowl as Xander and Harry break into a round of mocking giggles. He draws into himself with childish pettiness, narrowing his eyes pointedly. “Piss off.”

“Unless she couldn’t walk right afterwards, you didn’t really do what you think you did, Ni.” 

“It seemed pretty real to me!” The blue-eyed boy rebuttals sharply, cheeks tinging bright pink in embarrassment. 

“That’s the point.” 

“This is precisely why I’d never entertain a relationship with you, even as a joke.” Xander pipes up towards Niall, smirking cruelly at his friend’s bruised ego. “I like my orgasms to be real, and I’m not willing to put up an act to spare your fragile masculinity.” 

“Your dick’s probably small, anyways.” 

“Bigger than yours.”

“Is that a challenge? I’ll pull it out right now, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Well,” Harry cuts in loudly, not necessarily keen on watching two grown men compare penis sizes in the middle of his home, “it seems you two have some issues to work out, so the double date is a moot point, anyways.” His jade eyes flicker to his watch again; Y/N should nearly be here, and he doesn’t want these two goons present when she arrives— especially not with their balls out. That wouldn’t be a decent introduction, despite being an unforgettable one. “So I’ll talk to you two later, then.  Thanks for stopping by.”

“Hold up, I practically just cracked my beer.” Niall whines in return, holding up the chilled bottle in protest, leaning his backside against the marble countertop with a decisive motion. “Y’can’t kick us out yet.”

Harry laughs once, the noise sounding more strained than he would like. “Seeing as how I didn’t invite you over, I think I can.” He retorts, tapping a jeweled finger against the table. 

“The blood bag isn’t even here yet,” Xander reasons as he pulls out a chair from the kitchen island, taking a seat and making himself at home as if Harry hadn’t just told him to get the fuck out. “So what's the rush?”

The hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickles at the crude nickname, and the older vampire shoots daggers at the younger as he pushes himself off the marble counter. “There isn’t one, except I think hearing herself be referred to as ‘the blood bag’ may make her a little suspicious, don’t you?”

“We’ve referred to her as worse.” Xander shrugs offhandedly, kicking his feet up onto the bar stool next to him.

Harry’s brows furrow as he pushes Xander’s shoes off his furniture, dusting the leather cushion off. “Referred to her as what?  And when?”

Although Xander lifts one shoulder again as a vague answer, Niall smacks his lips loudly once again as he swallows the rest of the beer, and answers in a matter-of-fact tone. “In Vegas, after you ditched us to get your dick wet.  I think Xander called her a fuckable slab of kobe beef, and—”

“I said ribeye, actually.  Nice flavour, but a little chewy.” Xander corrects the Irishman, but has the decency to look halfway embarrassed when he catches Harry’s stony glare. “And it’s not like we’re wrong, right?  That’s all humans are.”

Niall gives an affirmative nod as he sets his empty bottle down on the marble counter, completely ignoring the coaster Harry had slid to him. “Don’t take it personally, H.  Xanny refers to his own dates as McDonald’s Happy Meal Twinks— at least a ribeye steak is expensive.”

“I’m not taking it personally.” Harry mutters the words in a low voice as his jaw twitches, tensing under the sunlight streaming through his floor-to-ceiling windows. “But comments like these are why you pricks need to get out of here before she shows up, or else I’ll be feeding from one of you tonight.”

A beat of silence falls between the three vampires as the palpable tension flowing off of Harry thickens the room.  Xander and Niall glance between each other and Harry, hardly able to hold the latter’s eyes, before Niall offers a small comment.

“I don’t think Xander would mind that, really—”

“Out.” Harry points a jeweled finger at the entrance corridor with a firm motion. “Both of you.  Go bother Mitch.”

He can see the disappointment and frustration that lingers on Niall and Xander’s faces, but neither of them fight him as they rise from their perches in the kitchen and walk dejectedly to the front door.  Harry briefly entertains the idea of walking them out, but decides against it; there’s a strange buzzing sensation rising through his ribs, and he’s not quite sure what he’ll say as he bids his friends— he has to remind himself that, yes, they’re his friends— goodbye.  It’s safer, he thinks, if he stays where he is and cleans up the mess that they managed to leave behind in their short visit. 

He comes to regret that decision, however, approximately three milliseconds after he hears the front door creak open, and a familiar but unexpected voice echos down the entrance hallway.

“Oh— hi.  Sorry, I may have the wrong apartment…?”

Harry freezes with Niall’s empty beer bottle clutched in his hand, his grip contracting so hard that he hears the thick glass begin to splinter.

“No, no, this is Harry’s apartment.  We were just leaving.” The grin on Niall’s face is audible underneath his Irish accent. “You must be Y/N.”

“I am, yeah.” Harry can hear the tiny thread of surprise at him recognizing her in the human’s words, and the even tinier thread of pleasure that undercuts it.  “And you must be...Niall, I think?  And Xander?”

Niall’s smug reply grates against Harry’s frozen skin, even from down the corridor. “Harry’s told you about us, huh?  Only good things, I hope.”

“Oh, I—”

Harry forces his legs to move with inhuman speed, the beer bottle not even having hit the marble counter by the time Harry appears at Niall and Xander’s shoulders. “Hi, darling.” He says through a strained smile, digging his stony fingers into the back of the two vampire’s arms, an unspoken warning of behave. “Y’made it alright, then?”

When Y/N shines a warm— albeit, slightly confused— smile in his direction, Harry wishes that he’d been faster in shooing his friends out the door, because the action nearly knocks the unrequired breath from his chest.  

She’d dressed in comfortable and casual clothes, as per his suggestion, and is standing just outside the doorway in light washed denim overalls, with a black and white striped t-shirt layered underneath, and her familiar cotton candy pink vans on her feet.  But the detail that digs its way to the forefront of his mind— more so than her satin lips, her heated cheeks that are appled with her smile, and the tousled locks that are pulled back from her face in a low ponytail— is the shining silver cross pendant that hangs on a chain around her smooth neck.

It’s a new addition that Harry has never seen before, and while he knows he shouldn’t be surprised— after all, she’d told him how she grew up in a religious town, how she’d attended church, how she used to say grace before dinner with her friends— the jewelry still piques his curiosity.

“I did, yeah.  It’s really not that long of a walk, H.” Y/N replies, flicking her eyes between Harry and his two friends, who are still watching her every move as if she’s a specimen to be observed. “Sorry, am I interrupting…?”

The Irishman with glasses— Niall, Y/N reminds herself— opens his mouth to respond, but Harry quickly cuts him off as he pushes past his mates to take Y/N’s hand and step outside the apartment, fetching his keys and yellow sunglasses from the small side table by the door in one smooth motion.

“Not interrupting anything, doll.  Niall and Xander were just on their way out.” Although Harry is smiling at her throughout the comment, the mortal can’t help but feel like the last phrase was aimed at the pair still lingering in the doorway.

“We were just stopping by to see if we could steal Harry for a last minute trivia game, but he said he was already booked.” Niall answers with an accepting shrug, glancing at Xander next to him, who’s still yet to say anything to Y/N, though he is carrying an unreadable empty expression as he gives the girl a calculating once-over. “Apparently, whatever he’s got planned for you two is more interesting than a few beers and watching Xander struggle to remember all the battles in World War I—”

“That’s not fair,” The brunette finally chimes in, breaking his attention away from her body to meet the blue-eyed boy’s gaze. Y/N is surprised to hear an American accent fall from his lips. “I’m the only one who wasn’t there, so how would I know—?”

“And you two are already arguing,” Harry cuts over his friends’ bickering, shooting them an annoyed glance as he wraps a cool arm around her waist, cautioning them to watch what they’re saying. “Which will only get worse once you get alcohol in your hands, and that is why I’m not going to subject Y/N to a headache-inducing night of torture.” 

Y/N looks up at Harry with innocent interest swirling in her eyes. “I don’t know, H, it could be fun.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as a crease forms between Harry’s brows. “Don’t you think?”

Niall catches Harry’s eye, taking advantage of Y/N’s distraction to cheekily flash him his crimson irises for a split second, voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm that only he can detect. “Yeah, Harry. Don’t you think?”

Jaw tensing, Harry bends down to brush his lips over Y/N’s ear, dampening his irritation down into a smooth and silky tone. “Don’t try to spare their feelings, love.  I’ve got something fun planned for us, I promise.” His teeth graze against Y/N’s skin, and he nearly drags his lips down towards her neck until he remembers her stuttering heartbeat can be heard by the other vampires in their presence.

The two creatures gawk at the image before them, utterly baffled at Harry’s unusual tenderness. It’s very out of character for him, that much is obvious. In all the decades Niall and Xander have been acquainted with the Victorian era immortal, neither have ever seen him be so gentle and touchy with another soul, let alone a human. It feels as if they’re looking at some type of warped parallel universe version of the normally stand-offish young man. 

Xander is the first to clear his throat, throwing Harry an annoyed grimace before pulling Niall out from the condo’s entryway. “We’ll see you later then, Harry.  C’mon, Ni.”

The Irishman offers a quick goodbye, gifting the strange girl a frail wave and a parting smile before being half-dragged down the hallway by Xander. Niall wrenches himself free and shoves Xander’s shoulder playfully as they round the corner to the elevator, their quiet voices— no doubt spinning juvenile gossip— fading out of earshot.  The look in Xander’s eyes had been concerning, Harry thinks, but nothing he needs to worry about right now.  If anything, he wants to forget that encounter as quickly as possible, and needs Y/N to forget it, too.

“So,” he pastes an easygoing grin onto his face as he locks his front door, turning to the mortal with a giddy twinkle in his forest green eyes. “Shall we be off, then?”

There’s a lingering look of confusion reflecting back at him, but Y/N doesn’t press the odd encounter as Harry intertwines his icy fingers with her own warm digits. 

“Alright.” She agrees, raising a questioning eyebrow back at him. “And just where are we going?”

///

“The Los Angeles Antique Mall.” Harry announces proudly when he opens Y/N’s door, extending a ringed hand to help her out of his low-riding car. “Twenty thousand square feet of vintage collectables, artwork, furniture, and anything else you could possibly want.”

Y/N stares up at the massive building in front of them, observing the worn wood facade and the collection of what seems to be (half faded) stained rocking chairs adorning the wraparound porch.  There’s also an impressive amount of wrought iron planters with various greenery scattered between the furniture, with groups of people milling between them as they enter and exit the giant mall. 

“You brought me antiquing?” She asks, an bemused look in her eye as she turns to Harry for an explanation. 

Wrapping his large grasp around her smaller one, Harry nods enthusiastically as he begins to lead her towards the door. “Yeah.  It’s fun, actually.  I’m always up for a bit of a treasure hunt, and I thought, since you’re still furnishing your apartment…”

“You know, now that you mention it… I could use some new curtains for my living room.  Maybe a nice side table.” Y/N allows, stepping over the wooden stairs to the door as Harry tugs her along. “But I’m surprised you like antiquing.  Doesn’t really seem like your thing, if I’m honest.”

A mischievous glint flits through Harry’s jade eyes as he treats her to a grin that’s all teeth. “I’m actually quite fond of antiques, truth be told.  I’ve got a good eye for vintage collectables.  And…” He lazily tugs on the handle of the door to open it, stepping to the side to allow Y/N to walk through first. “Maybe we’ll find a nice painting to replace that god awful tapestry in your bedroom.”

A scoff of indignation falls from Y/N’s mouth as she turns on her heel to punch Harry’s sturdy upper arm, nearly getting too distracted by the ropes of muscle beneath his tight sleeve to give a response. “I like that tapestry!  And, seeing as how you’re either sleeping or fucking me when you’re in said room, I’m a little offended that my tapestry is the thing you focus the most on.”

Harry bites his bottom lip between his teeth.  If only she knew how much time he actually spends staring at it. 

“Well, there’s certainly other things I focus on…” He replies with a casual air, slipping his hand into the back pocket of Y/N’s overalls to cup her ass suggestively, guiding her along the aisles of antiques. “But nothing ruins a post-orgasm glow like poor interior design, sweetheart. S’a bit of a buzzkill, y’know?”

“So is being patronized.” Y/N deadpans, extracting Harry’s hand from her back pocket as a hot flash begins to creep up her spine. “You keep mocking my interior design choices, and your orgasms are going to get a lot less frequent.”

The vampire belly laughs as he throws an arm around her shoulders, the action as natural to him as breathing once was. “I don’t believe that for one fucking second.” He replies gleefully, smudging an open mouthed kiss to Y/N’s temple. 

“You don’t, huh?” The human girl raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to scan the towering racks of oddities all around them. “I wonder if we can find you a vintage fleshlight here?”

“Already got one, doll,” Harry rolls his eyes as he brushes his cool fingers along Y/N’s exposed collarbone, his eyes catching the cross pendant again and brimming with curiosity. “And it’s just the tip of the iceberg that is my toy chest, y’know that—” 

Y/N feels Harry’s arm suddenly tense around her, his muscles contracting as his touch jolts away from her collarbones, his hand flexing beneath the open skylights of the building. “Everything okay?” Y/N asks, all her teasing fading away, replaced with concern as she pauses her steps toward the shelves. 

“I—” Harry flexes his fingers again, slowly removing his arm from her shoulder to examine his hand.  The tips of his fingers are a bright red, crimson burns contrasting against his pink skin, and although it only takes a few moments for the marks to fade, the uneasy feeling bubbling in Harry’s stomach lasts. “Yeah.  My, uh, my hand just cramped.  But it’s fine now, I think.”

Who the fuck, he wonders as he cautiously slings his arm back around Y/N’s shoulders, wears a cross made of, not silver as Harry originally suspected, but polished iron?  

Iron jewelry had fallen out of fashion a century ago, and Harry had never been more thankful than when it did, given how his flesh scorches at merely brushing the metal. When he took his family’s trinkets as a way to remember them before he had to leave, Harry had snuck into his father’s forge in the dead of the night to dip the jewelry in gold that he’d stolen from a local merchant who cheated poor peasants out of their valuables.  It had been a tedious task, and rather dangerous due to the threat of being caught, but it had also been necessary; if he hadn’t taken the risk, he wouldn’t have his sister’s cross earring, or his father’s matching cross necklace.  His dad’s pocket watch, luckily, had been made of silver, and didn’t need a golden bath, but everything else had to be encased to protect Harry’s skin.  

Iron jewelry had been a deterrent to him in the years to come after he was turned; it wasn’t uncommon for him to find a pretty young girl from a village and sneak her away for a night of fun, only to discover an iron chain dangling from her neck when he leaned in to take a bite.  It wasn’t a permanent problem, of course, as there were plenty of other soft places he could sink his teeth into, but it had been an annoyance then, and it still annoys him now. 

Harry does his best to push the irritation to the back of his mind, he really does.  He shows Y/N around the twisting maze of antiques, and does his best to showcase one of his favourite hideaways in L.A.  He points to anything and everything that could interest her, and doesn’t hesitate when she asks him to reach something heavy perched on a high shelf, even if she just wants to examine it out of curiosity.  Harry pulls out typewriters, vintage cameras, tarnished cigarette lighters, and a pastel yellow bicycle with an attached wicker basket from 1941, presenting all of the objects with the enthusiasm of a showcase model on The Price is Right, spouting falsified information about each product in the best impression of Bob Barker he can pull off (“This ancient, rusted bicycle— once owned by the Queen of England herself— can be all yours for just one easy payment of $8.99! Taxes and shipping not included.”). 

And although all of that incites multiple tinkling laughs from Y/N, and lights a glimmer in her eye, and compels her to walk closer and closer to Harry until she lets him sneak his palm back into the backside pocket of her overalls, the mystery of her necklace still eats at the far end of his brain. And it’s that insipid, insistent pest of a thought that causes Harry to readjust his grip on the framed Monet print he’d spotted in the racks (Y/N had tried to deny how much she liked it in order to thwart Harry’s triumphant smirk, but she still asked him to grab it for her with a grumble) and spare another glance to the innocent looking cross resting atop her clavicle. 

“That’s a pretty little piece.” Harry slips into a nonchalant tone with ease, nodding towards the necklace as he navigates the two of them around a corner. “Why have I never seen you wear it before?”

Y/N brushes her fingertips over the iron cross with a gentle motion.  Her fingers don’t scorch with a mere graze of the metal, Harry notes scathingly.  Not that he expected it from someone like Y/N. 

“Because I don’t wear it often.” She replies, lifting one shoulder without a second thought. “It was my grandmother’s— not, like, originally, but she’d owned it, and gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, so I guess it counts as a family heirloom, huh?”

“Guess so.” The vampire murmurs in agreement, prickles of wonder still coasting against his skin. “So what made you drag it out today?” Did you subconsciously realize that your neck needs protection when I’m near? Harry tacks on in his head, his brow furrowing at the troubling thought. 

And at that question, Y/N’s eyes drop to the floor, as if her bubblegum pink vans need an audience for every step they take. “Uh, I was just a little homesick, that’s all.” She mumbles the reply, her shoulders sagging as a dark shadow passes through her usually dazzling eyes. 

Homesickness.  The one human feeling that Harry can still relate to. “I’m sorry to hear that, darling.” He removes his hand from her back pocket to wind it around her shoulders again, mindful of the jewelry in question. “Did anything in particular happen, or…?”

Y/N lifts her shoulders once again as she tucks her hands into her pockets, her posture closing off more and more with every passing moment. “Not really.  I don’t know, I— normally I’m fine, but when I addressed my letter to my parents today, it took me a moment to remember my ZIP code.  It’s the same ZIP code I’ve had all my life, but… I nearly forgot it.” She glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, and Harry realizes that dark shadow is guilt.  She feels guilty. “I’ve been in L.A. for less than six months, and almost forgot my parent’s ZIP code.  I didn’t think that could ever happen.”

Harry hums low in his throat, a noise of understanding and finality.  It’s homesickness, that’s all.  That’s explainable, and understandable, and should be enough information to silence the gnawing irritation in his chest. 

And yet...

“Do you believe in God?” The question escapes from Harry’s mouth before he can even think to censor it, his own eyes widening on his behalf as his grip on the Monet print nearly releases from the surprise. 

“What?” Y/N stops in her tracks, although she nearly stumbles forward when Harry’s sturdy arm catches behind her shoulders as her eyes boggle at him. “I don’t— what does God have to do with antiquing?”

If Harry didn’t have to worry about digging himself out of the whole he created, he’d laugh at the incredulous expression on his lover’s face. “I was just curious, s’all.” He struggles to keep his voice casual, steadying his feet against the wooden floor in an effort to ground himself mentally. “I know you were raised with religion, but you don’t really go to church here— not that church equals a belief, but—”

“Um, I don’t…” Y/N extends her arm to let her fingers graze over the shelf of old lunch boxes next to them, feeling each dip of every embossed cartoon character. “I don’t know.  I don’t really believe in, like, a concept of God— at least, not the one I was raised with.  But I believe in…” She trails off as she attempts to gather her thoughts, chewing on her bottom lip absentmindedly as she searches for the right words. “Something.  I don’t really know if it’s a deity, or an energy, or just coincidence, but… I think there’s something out there that guides us.”

“So you believe in souls.” Harry’s mouth presses into a flat line, his jaw clenching for just a moment as he grits his teeth and then reiterates her previous point. “The thing that allows us to be guided, that is.” 

Or allows her to be guided, Harry thinks bitterly, casting his eyes towards their path ahead of them to avoid Y/N’s prying gaze. That’s really the only reason he’d brought up this entire religion conversation— the only reason he ever brings it up: he wants to know if she believes in souls, because in order to be guided by whatever higher power supposedly exists, one needs a soul.  And Harry’s fairly certain his was stolen from him in 1837. 

“I suppose.” Y/N allows, tracing the embossed lettering of a vintage Wonder Woman lunch box. “A soul, an energy, an aura— they’re all kind of the same thing to me.  The thing that keeps your heart beating.  I don’t think it needs to be tied to a religion; there’s so many different religions, but everyone has a heartbeat, you know?”

Harry nearly laughs out loud at the irony, but manages to stifle the sound into a non-committal hum. “Does your something include heaven and hell, or is that too based in Christianity?” He asks, half out of curiosity and half out of necessity. “If someone were to lose their soul…” He knows he sounds insane asking the question, but it bubbles out of him before he can choke it back. “Would you think them damned?”

The mortal girl stares at him blankly for a moment, her mouth just barely open as she considers his words.  He shouldn’t have asked, and he knows that— he knew it the moment the first question fell from his lips.  But the more they discussed the topic, the more it nagged at him.  Y/N, with all her good nature, her listening skills, and her soft heart, are most certainly bound for whatever good lies in store when a soul actually leaves a body.  Harry, on the other hand… If the monster’s conscience were to ever leave this Earth, he knows it’s not for the metaphorical pearly white gates. And for some reason, that notion bothers him more right now than it has in the last twenty decades.

“Um…” A nervous laugh echoes from Y/N’s mouth, the smile curling the edges of her lips not quite reaching her eyes. “Okay, this topic is way too serious for me to discuss sober.  Can I take a rain check on the damnation questions?  I’m getting Sunday school flashbacks, and living through that once was bad enough.”

Harry wills a smile onto his own face, but the expression is more apologetic than anything as he grips Y/N’s hand in his to tow her down an aisle of antique kitchen equipment. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you with such heavy questions. I guess I just wanted to get to know my partner in justice a bit more.” 

Y/N takes it in good stride, just as she usually does, her smile relaxing the moment she sees Harry’s dimples peek out from his cheeks. “Don’t worry about it, Sherlock.  I’d expect nothing less from such an established detective.”

As the pair pass under another skylight, Y/N’s cross glints at Harry as if to mock him. 

///

Y/N isn’t lost.

To the untrained eye, the mindless path she takes through the towering and twisting rows of the antique mall may seem like the wandering of someone who has no recollection of where they came from, nor where they’re going, but Y/N is adamant that she isn’t lost.  She isn’t, because when she split from Harry to take a trip to the washroom, he’d warned her not to get lost in the internal maze of the mall.  And Y/N, with a glare in her eyes and a scathing remark on her lips, had assured him that she, a grown woman, would be able to find her way back after she was done, and “Honestly, H, just wander a bit.  I’ll be able to find you easily.”

So Y/N isn’t lost, because she refuses to prove Harry right.  He’s already a cocky asshole with a huge ego, and she couldn’t bear seeing that ego enlarge as a triumphant smirk paints over his face the moment she calls him on his cellphone, admits defeat, and asks him to come find her.  She’ll do a lot of things for that man, but that isn’t one of them.

With that in mind, she turns down a corridor of the labyrinth of collectables, trying to find any discernible items that she could use to pinpoint her location in the labyrinth.  The yellow bicycle, maybe, or one of the vintage cameras Harry had pretended to photograph her with, or even the strange five foot carving of Bugs Bunny that she and Harry had agreed is probably possessed by a demon.  A haunted Bugs Bunny could lead her to her destination— or kill her, truthfully, but either option seems preferable over the solidifying future of having to call Harry.

After another five minutes of aimless ambling, Y/N retrieves her phone from her pocket, a grimace crawling its way onto her face as she opens her contacts to click on Harry’s name.  Her finger hovers just over the phone icon, mere millimetres from humiliation, when a few out of place piano notes float by her ears and catch her attention.

Y/N tucks her phone back into her overall pocket as her curiosity takes over, urging her ears to strain towards the distant melody, as well as for her legs to follow. It’s not long before Y/N is walking with purpose again, albeit a different purpose than before.  As the music gets louder, Y/N begins to pick out more details— how the piano notes that prick her ears are slightly out of tune, how the player begins and stops and begins again, dragging out different phrases, speeding through others with no clear intention.  The minor key of the piece makes Y/N feel like she’s walking into a memory as she wades through the shelves of long-forgotten belongings, old photographs of deceased people in Victorian fashions watching while the young woman falls back in time.

The music grows louder as Y/N reaches a dark corridor with wood paneling lining the walls, and a painted sign saying “Music Room” beckons her down the passageway.  She follows with slow steps, and while she knows that maybe leaving the main mall area and losing her way down here isn’t a smart idea, the music that’s beginning to grow impossibly sweet pulls her forward.  Y/N rounds the corner to find the oak doors to the music room swung open, and when she lays her eyes on the figure sitting at the mahogany ground piano, she recognizes the silhouette of Harry’s back and shoulders immediately.

Y/N’s gaze falls from his flexing shoulder blades to his inked hands, the jewels on his rings catching the low light of the room as his lithe fingers dance over the dusty ivory keys.  He coaxes a melody from the instrument without any difficulty, as if the music had been simmering beneath his skin for ages.  Maybe it has, Y/N thinks, as she watches from the doorway with quiet wonder, and although she plans on silently observing for as long as she can, Harry only completes a few more phrases before the music drifts to a halt.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d find me.” He murmurs, clearing his throat of the rasp that had settled in his vocal chords as he played. “Thought I’d be getting a scared phone call any moment now.”

The human girl steps into the room slowly, gliding around to the cut out of the piano and leaning across the lacquered wood. “I wasn’t scared.  And I would’ve found you sooner if you’d stayed put. I said wander a bit, not all the way across the building.” She retorts jokingly, trailing a finger along the smooth edge of the piano. All of the sarcasm in her voice melts right out, replaced by intrigue. “I didn’t know you played piano.”

“I, uh, I don’t.  Not much anymore, anyways.” Harry runs his digits between the keys again, using only enough pressure to dust the top of the ivory covers. “I wasn’t sure I’d remember how, honestly, but this…” He lifts an index finger to brush the dust off the gold embossed brand name. “It looks like the one I learned on, so…”

Y/N takes a seat on the wooden bench next to Harry, her shoulder bumping against his as she leans in to smudge a kiss across his cheek. “It sounded beautiful.” She assures him, noting the hesitation in his explanation. “What’s that piece called?”

“It’s one of Chopin’s Nocturnes, in C-Sharp Minor.” Harry curves his fingers over the keys, as if he’s about to begin again, but then relaxes the digits as he exhales harshly. “I don’t play it as well as— as the person who taught me.”

There seems to be a hidden story beneath those words, but Y/N doesn’t press it; if Harry wants to tell her, then he’ll tell her.  If not… Well, she’d rather not drag a sour memory from him in the middle of an antique mall.  Instead, she drags her fingers over his thigh, rubbing just above his knee in a comforting manner. 

“How long have you been playing?” She asks softly, tracing over a black lacquered key with her free hand.  When she pulls away, her finger is coated in dust, and she wonders how long it’s been since the piano has been touched by someone else.

The corner of Harry’s lips twitch, as if her question is particularly humorous. “A while.” He answers simply, and he tilts his head to the side to press his face against the top of Y/N’s head, inhaling the scent of her favourite shampoo. 

“A while?” Y/N repeats the vague answer to prompt further explanation, but when she gets none, she switches to another inquiry. “Can you play me something?”

The moment she utters the question, Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No, I— no.  I’m not that good, love, and I don’t really play for people.”

Surprise colors Y/N’s voice when she replies, lifting her head from Harry’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “This isn’t the time for false modesty, H.” She says, tapping two fingers against his knee as punctuation. “Since when have you been humble?”

A bark of a laugh escapes Harry’s chest in spite of himself, and he curls his fingers over Y/N’s to move her hand further up his thigh. “I’m not modest!  Don’t insult me like that, darling.  S’not nice.”

“Prove it, then.” Y/N massages over Harry’s inner thigh as she issues the challenge, baiting the vampire’s ego with ease. “Play me something.  Show off a little bit.”

Harry squeezes Y/N’s hand once as a quiet groan twists his lips into a pout. “You’re getting pretty good at manipulating me, y’know that?” He mutters, poising his lacquered fingertips back over the instrument. “Fine.  Do you want something sad or happy?”

Y/N ponders the question as she leans her head back onto Harry’s shoulder, her lips finding the edge of his jaw and pecking his cool skin for just a moment. “Both.”

“Both.” Harry repeats with a snort, shaking his head in exasperation as his hands drift to a new position on the keys. “Indecisive little thing, aren’t you?”

The mortal girl lifts her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, scratching her nails along the fabric of Harry’s pants. “Just play me something.  Please?”

It’s the simplest request with the most complicated implication, but Harry can’t find a good reason to refuse it. 

“This is, um, another Chopin piece.” He feels clumsy in his explanation, struggling to remember the details that he’d once memorized in an effort to seem impressive. “Another Nocturne, in E-flat this time.”

Harry’s fingers begin to dance over the keys, and Y/N listens in amazement as a melody that is both happy and sad begins to spiral out from the body of the piano, wrapping her inside the warmth of the music.  

Not every phrase is even— the more Harry plays, it seems, the more the music phrases, bending and shaping itself around his elegant fingers, rolling with his every movement.  As the music begins to get sadder, however, Y/N notices the change in Harry’s face, and how each phrase begins to get choppier as his fingers stumble their way over the keys. 

Y/N smudges another kiss against Harry’s jaw when his fingers trip up again, squeezing his knee with reassurance. “Keep going.” She murmurs, rubbing his leg lightly as the music stutters again. “It’s nice.”

“I—” The music halts with a jerk of Harry’s hands, which he retracts from the keys as if the ivory burns him. “I don’t remember the rest.” He mumbles, laying his stubbled cheek against the top of Y/N’s head. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.  I really liked it.” Y/N trails her own fingers over the keys, pressing a few of the lacquered notes with idle interest.  The melody she spins out isn’t nearly as nice as the one Harry played, and she laughs at her own expense. “I’m not nearly as good.  I took a few lessons as a kid, but begged my mom to let me quit.  I wish I’d stuck with it.”

“That wasn’t too bad.” Harry’s dimples wink at her as he smiles boyishly, nodding to the keys with false reassurance. “That little tune sounded a lot like Mozart.”

“Uh huh.” The mortal girl rolls her eyes at the lie, bracing her palms against the polished wooden bench before rising from her seat. “Despite that praise, I don’t think I’ll be adding this piano to my shopping cart.” 

“Hm.  Too bad.” Her lover trails his fingers after her, reaching for her hand and intertwining her grasp with his. “It could make a pretty addition to your apartment, I think.”

“It would take up my entire apartment, more like it.” Y/N scoffs as she raps the fingers of her free hand against the side of the piano. “I don’t even think I could fit this in my living room.  Your apartment, however…” She raises an eyebrow as a grin works its way over her face. “You could fit it easily.  You should buy it.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he lets her hand fall from his palm, touching the keys one last time before shutting the cover over the keyboard. “I’m not buying the piano.”

“Why not?” Eyes widening in surprise, Y/N leans onto the instrument, gesturing with her arms the same way Harry did earlier as she shifts her voice to mimic Bob Barker. “It’s made of genuine mahogany, was once played by Beethoven himself, and can be yours, for the low, low price of—” She reaches around the side of the instrument to grab the tag tied around the leg. “Eight hundred and—holy shit, are you kidding me?”

Harry hums in response as he rises from the bench, shrugging his shoulders before crossing his arms around his tummy. “That’s actually a fairly good price for a used piano, you know.” 

Y/N blinks at him, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to find words. “I— okay, yeah.  Sure.  So you should get it, then, if you consider that a ‘fairly good price’.” 

“I could,” Harry agrees, his muscles flexing beneath his tight t-shirt as he reaches to pick up the painting leaning against the instrument. “But I won’t.”

Her brow wrinkling in confusion, Y/N watches as Harry begins to examine the other objects in the room, turning his attention to the book-lined shelves and antique lamps. “Why?” 

The man sighs as he fingers the tassels hanging from a— in Y/N’s humble opinion— particularly ugly lamp. “Because I already have one—”

“You do?”

“—but it’s been in storage ever since I got to L.A. And while I usually love things in excess… alcohol, statement jewelry, orgasms—” He flashes a toothy grin at Y/N. “I don’t think overly-heavy instruments fall into any of those categories.”

“Why is it in storage?” Y/N asks, bemusement laced through her voice.  Before Harry began to stumble through the piece, there was a look on his face that Y/N hasn’t seen very often; a serene air swirled through his eyes, hiding something beneath it that Y/N couldn’t quite make out.  And she wants to. 

“Because I don’t have any interest in playing anymore.  Honestly, darling, I haven’t thought about it in years.” Harry laughs in a nonchalant manner, moving from the antique lamp to the creaking rocking chair in the corner. “Y’can have it, if you like.  Probably do you more good than me.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the deflection, turning her attention away from the topic at hand. “I’m good.” She responds dryly, drifting over to the floor to ceiling bookshelf bolted to the wall. 

Her eyes trail over the exposed spines of the books, reading over the variety of titles with piqued interest.  The amount of genres she sees is countless, ranging from trashy paperback romance novels to timeless classics embossed in gold.  The farther up Y/N glances, the older the books appear, and she gets more and more curious as she glides her fingers over the rippled covers of the books within her reach.

While the novels climb up the height of the bookshelf to the ceiling, Y/N can only manage to reach halfway up the length she needs to, even while stretching on her tiptoes.  She settles down on the balls of her feet with a pout playing on her lips, her attention turning to the wheeled ladder that runs along bars bolted to the bottom of the shelving unit.  It looks rather old— like everything in the antique mall— and Y/N isn’t quite sure it’ll support her weight, despite her test of gripping a rung and pushing on it.

“Harry, c’mere,” She calls over her shoulder, hands gripping the sides of the dusty ladder as she balances a foot on the bottom rung.

Upon her beckoning, Harry saunters over, the painted print she’d selected still grasped in his ringed hand. “Yeah?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in question. “What is it?”

“Can you help me climb up the ladder?” Y/N nods her head towards the far-reaching shelves, biting her bottom lip with pleading eyes. “I want to see what’s on the top shelves.”

Harry’s gaze follows Y/N’s gesture towards the top of the library wall, a look of trepidation flickering through his eyes. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes,” Y/N answers curtly, lifting her other foot onto the bottom rung before moving from her original step to the next. “And it’ll be a lot easier if you help me.”

Despite his protests, Harry sets down the framed print and complies with the request, grasping Y/N around her waist with firm hands as she scurries up the rickety ladder.  She can feel his fingertips pressing into her love handles over the denim, and it would be a lie to say she doesn’t enjoy it, but she refocuses her attention onto reading over the embossed titles that she couldn’t see from below.

“Y’know, on second thought… take all the time you need, dove.” Harry calls from below her, the smirk evident in his voice as he squeezes her hips once with a laugh. “I’ve got quite the view from here.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N releases one hand from the ladder to tug a novel off the shelf, examining the half exposed cover before sliding it back into its place. “I bet you do.” She retorts, wiggling her hips just enough to tease him without losing her precarious balance on the ladder.

Although the motion is meant to be a joke, Harry can’t stop the flash of genuine fear that ignites in his chest.  Humans are fragile, he knows, and a fall from the height that Y/N has climbed to could sprain her wrist, or injure her back, or crack open her skull like an egg, or—

“Careful there, Watson.” Harry attempts to disguise the worry in his voice behind a lighthearted joke as his grip on the human girl strengthens. “Wouldn’t want an accident to happen, now, would we?”

“That’s why I’ve got you, Holmes.” A tinkling laugh falls from her lips as she risks a glance over her shoulder at him, her eyes alight with amusement, before turning her attention back to the old novels. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me, would you?”

There’s a nervous truth hidden underneath her words, and Harry knows it, but that doesn’t stop it from making his skin itch as the casual phrase sinks into his body.  In all his years, however, Harry’s gotten quite good at hiding his emotions, and this is no different.  

Instead of giving a sincere answer, Harry hardens his reply of “F’course I wouldn’t, pet.  Y’can never be too careful.” by letting one jeweled hand drift from Y/N’s hip to her backside, cupping it gently to support her, and taking delight in the way he can feel her body tense beneath his new touch.

It takes Y/N a moment to find her breath again, and when she does, all she can muster is a hum in the back of her throat. “Mhmm.” She sighs, trying her best to refocus on the books lining the shelves in front of her as she climbs higher. “Is that why your hand is grabbing my ass, you pervert?”

“Y’know, that seems to be your favourite nickname for me.” Harry’s smirk deepens as he contracts his hand, squeezing her fleshy backside after she takes another step higher. “I wonder why that is?”

“I wonder.” The flat response echoes from Y/N’s mouth as she pulls another book from the shelf to examine it before replacing it a moment later. “Maybe— and this is just a suggestion, so take it with a grain of salt, but— maybe if you didn’t act like a pervert, you’d get a nicer nickname.”

Although Y/N’s retorts are droll and to the point, Harry can hear the way her heartbeat begins to stutter each time he massages her, and it’s that fluttering rhythm that encourages him to grasp the sides of the ladder with both hands and pull himself up a couple rungs. 

“A nicer nickname, huh?” He breathes in her ear, pressing his chest to her back both to be close to her and to give her more support on the ladder. “Like ‘slut’?” Harry stifles the groan that nearly rolls from his throat when he feels Y/N stiffen. “That’s one of your favourites, isn’t it?”

“I—” Swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat, Y/N grips the sides of the ladder tight between her hands, her skin stretching over her tense knuckles as Harry’s breath begins to hit her neck. “Maybe. I...I suppose.”

Harry laughs quietly as he takes another step up the ladder, keeping himself braced against Y/N as he begins to smear kisses along the side of her neck, mindful of the iron cross that still hangs there. “You suppose?” He repeats, his tone slightly mocking when he hears the mortal shudder. “What about your other favourites?  Y’like when I call you my pretty little plaything, don’t you?”

The honey and lavender fragrance wafting over Harry intensifies as Y/N’s blood pumps faster and faster, the only sound emerging from the human girl being a quiet whimper from the back of her throat.

“There’s another one, though… another nickname…” Letting his teeth gently graze her earlobe, Harry whispers directly in Y/N’s ear, keeping his voice low and throaty as he does so. “It’s on the tip of my tongue, baby...” He suckles sloppily along her pulsing neck, delighting in the taste of her sweet skin in his mouth. “Remind me what it is?”

Already, Y/N’s breathing has grown ragged, and he waits a moment for the aroused girl to form a response, encouraging her with every nip of his teeth.  Just when Harry is about to ask again, she manages to choke out a reply.

“Whore.” She whispers, the embarrassment in her voice overpowered by the lust running through her veins. “I like it when you call me your whore.”

“That’s my good girl.” A satisfied smile tugs at the edge of Harry’s lips as he stamps a gentle kiss to Y/N’s jaw. “That’s another one, too.  My good girl.  And because you’re my good girl…” Harry snakes his right hand from the rung of the ladder to the buttons of Y/N’s overalls, deftly undoing the side snaps and gradually slipping his hand into the space between the denim and her clammy skin. “You’re going to keep looking for your books while I have some fun.”

Y/N lets out a broken gasp as Harry’s fingertips graze over her cotton panties, and her grip on the railing slackens as a rush of heat falls between her legs. 

“Careful, baby.” Harry cautions her, his left hand wrapping around hers and resetting her grasp on the ladder. “Can’t have any fun if you let go, hm?”

“We—” She twists her head to the side, straining to look over her shoulder and towards the entrance as Harry’s digits dance over the dampening spot on her panties. “Someone could walk in, Harry—”

Of course someone could, Harry thinks, but exhibitionism is so much easier to indulge when one has inhuman hearing that can detect the pounding of an approaching heart from fifty feet away.  He doesn’t disclose this information to Y/N, however, for a number of reasons, and instead chooses to scrape his teeth along the shell of her ear once more, his ruby lips soothing the marks instantly. 

“You let me worry about that, alright?” He murmurs lowly, sliding Y/N’s cotton panties to the side and dragging his index and middle finger through her dripping folds, enjoying how she shivers against his chest. “You just focus on finding the book you want and being a good little whore for me, princess.  Let me take care of the rest.”

When Y/N reflects on this moment in bed tonight, her clammy palms twisting around the sheets as she inhabits the memory of Harry’s mint-scented breath swirling around her as he massages two fingers around her throbbing clit with a teasing touch, one specific detail will stick out to her.  She won’t focus on how her heart is pounding so hard that she feels her chest might burst, or how her fingers shake as she reaches for another book on the shelf, per Harry’s quiet but intent instructions.  The thing that Y/N will remember in wonder and— on some level, self consciously— is how quickly the anxiety that spikes through her veins at the possibility of someone walking in and finding the two of them in such a compromising position bleeds into a high like no other.

Y/N likes to entertain the idea that she’s fairly adventurous, and has been open to a lot of things, especially since meeting Harry, but this— allowing him to finger her in a music room at an antique mall, where any customer or employee could discover them— is something so outside of her character that Y/N can’t think straight.  When Harry first slips his long middle finger inside her slick center, the girl nearly collapses, and Harry’s broad chest braced behind her is the only thing that keeps her upright on the ladder.

“Y’like that, doll?” Harry’s hot breath rolls over her neck as he purrs the words, adjusting his grip on the side of the ladder as his other hand skillfully toys with the human in slow and deep strokes. “Filthy little thing, you are, letting me play with you like this.”

The sinful remark draws a mewling moan from Y/N’s mouth as her head dips back onto Harry’s sturdy shoulder, her hands dropping all pretense of searching for a book and clutching the ladder like she normally clutches her sheets, or the headboard of whoever’s bed Harry has tossed her onto. “H-Harry…” She whimpers, her eyelashes fluttering as he circles his thumb around her clit. “Fuck…”

“You pretend to be so sweet, but you and I know the truth, don’t we?” The vampire sponges another kiss along her throat as he delights in the wet sounds his fingers make, which easily become drowned out by the quiet noises of bliss leaving his lover’s mouth. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

Y/N nods fervently as she allows her weight to fall back against Harry’s sturdy chest, trusting him to support her as he thrusts another finger inside her. “Anything, H, I—” The desperate proclamation is cut off as Harry curls his digits, bumping against the spot in the pit of her tummy that sets her entire nervous system on fire. “Shit, right there, baby, right there…”

Harry’s smug voice rings in her ear as he slows his stride, dragging his fingers in and out of her hot core at a pace that’s nearly criminal. “Y’don’t need to tell me, I know.” He pushes himself forward again, flushing Y/N between his chest and the ladder with just enough room to continue his activities. “I know what you like, how you like it, where you like it… Know my girl so well.”

As Y/N adjusts to the newly close proximity, the bulge in Harry’s slacks grows more apparent, rubbing against her backside over and over with each plunge of Harry’s fingers.  She lets out a strangled whine at the feeling, carving her teeth into her bottom lip in an effort to keep herself quiet. 

“You feel me, don’t you, minx?” Harry moans into her ear, catching his teeth along the shell before dragging them down her jaw to settle his lips just above her throbbing pulse point. “You feel what you’re doing to me?  How just a single whimper from those pretty lips, and one touch of your soaked cunt makes my cock ache?”

Despite her best efforts, a ragged sob breaks through Y/N’s self-imposed gag order, and her chest heaves within Harry’s tight embrace as her head lolls to the side. “I-I want it.” She pleads, her half-lidded eyes struggling to find Harry’s emerald irises in her haze. 

Those sea glass eyes, darker than she’s ever seen them, widen with fake surprise as his mouth curls into a smirk.  When Harry replies, his normally soothing dulcet voice is filled with insincere mocking. “Oh, you want it, do you?  You want me to fuck you in here?” Dropping his voice to its usual low resonance, Harry growls the next phrase in the human’s ear. “I know you want it, you fucking slut.  But you can’t have it right now.  So if I’m going to let you cum—” The conditional phrase pulls a sound of protest from her throat. “—then you’re going to have to do it around my fingers.” 

The begging girl cries out against his neck as her walls clench around his touch, the stifled pants that she gasps into Harry’s ear urging him to speed up.  Instead of giving her what she wants, Harry curls his fingers inside her, pressing deeper into that spongy spot to elicit another broken whine from her.  When he receives it, however, it’s accompanied by an unexpected blinding burn. 

The iron cross that hangs so delicately around Y/N’s fragile throat has slung to the side in her writhing pleasure, finding its way from her flushed collarbones to the base of Harry’s icy neck.  The vampire grinds his teeth as he feels the brand begin to form, choking back the sound of agony that fights its way out of his mouth.  His left hand clenches around the ladder, his knuckles stretching white as the waxed wood nearly splinters under his palm, while his right hand stutters its pace inside his lover, prodding harshly at her G-spot as a single grunt makes it past the cracks of his teeth.

Harry knows he needs to remove the cross from his skin, but he has no way of doing so without alerting Y/N to his discomfort.  If he lets go of the rung, both of them will tumble off, and Y/N has made it obvious how much she trusts him to keep her safe; that option is hardly an option, Harry thinks, struggling to keep his mind present as he fights through the pain.  The other option— the only one, really— is to retract his fingers from between the mortal’s thighs, feign some excuse as to why, and do his best to keep her from noticing the cross-shaped burn mark on his neck that will surely disappear within a few moments of the iron being removed.  It’ll be jarring, he knows, to pull Y/N from the subspace he can tell she’s beginning to slip into, and Harry hates it, but there’s nothing to be done.  His hand contracts inside her, desperately massaging her walls one last time before he retreats to—

The sharp action drags a mangled whine from Y/N’s throat, the sound more shattered than anything Harry has ever heard from her before, and it pulls Harry’s attention from the charring sensation of the cross branding his skin to the overwhelmed girl in his arms.  As Y/N lets her entire body fall against Harry’s chest, her eyes completely shut as she gives into the pleasure bubbling in her tummy, a realization dawns on Harry, searing him nearly as much as the metal on his inhuman flesh: he can’t let go of her.  He’s in too deep— literally, obvious in the way she tightens around his fingers— and if he were to stop now, Y/N would go into a sensitive daze that he can’t deal with in a public space.  If he lets go of her now, he’ll lose the connection he’s spent the last two months making. She might get over it, given that it’s just an orgasm, but subconsciously, there’s a possibility she could resent him for it. Especially in the extremely delicate phase she’s in at the moment. 

He knows it sounds stupid, but he can’t risk that.  He just can’t.  He’ll take burning agony over that any day. 

When Harry reflects on this moment in bed tonight, his jeweled fingers carefully combing through Y/N’s knotted locks as she shifts in his arms, the bite mark on her neck freshly faded to a light bruise, her chest rising and falling gently with quiet breaths, one specific detail will stick out to him.  He won’t focus on the blinding pleasure of Y/N grinding against his hardened bulge, her body moving of its own accord as she gives in completely to the sensations Harry pulls from her.  He won’t focus on the explicit moans that show she’s given up on attempting to quiet, her voice reverberating in Harry’s mouth as he inhales every desperate breath she exhales.  When Harry reflects on this moment, the thing he’ll remember the most is how the second he accepted his fate— that he’d have to bear the pain in order to keep Y/N happy, and he feels like there’s probably some deeper subliminal message hidden beneath that realization, though he refuses to indulge it— the mortal girl tilts her head to the side and begins to kiss Harry’s neck, soothing the scorched mark with her silky tongue. 

The relief is so sweet that Harry nearly cries out a fractured mewl, letting his head fall forward into Y/N’s shoulder to hide his desperate expression.  She continues to whimper into his skin, smudging kiss after kiss on his marked neck as if she knows how badly he needs it.  Even as her orgasm begins to rise in her belly, consuming her every thought, she continues to suck bruises onto his jugular, dragging her tongue over his cool skin repeatedly after every action.  Although the iron still stings, the sensation of Y/N’s textured tongue swiping over it turns the pain to pleasure, and it’s not long before Harry has himself centered once again, refocused on the task at hand. 

He speeds up the movement of his fingers, focusing on curling them inside her as his thumb rubs quick circles over her throbbing clit.  The sounds bouncing around the room are so lewd that Harry almost wishes someone would walk in, even if only to see how good Harry is capable of making his lover feel. 

“Y’can cum for me, baby.  Cum all over my hand.” He mutters in her ear, his teeth scraping against her fragile skin in desperation. “I know you have it in you.  Show me how good you are.”

Y/N feverishly grinds against his hand, all of her senses overwhelmed by the immortal as she licks across his neck. “So—so close, Harry—I—”

“I know, I know you are.” The vampire soothes her in a tone more gentle than he thought possible, palming her soaking cunt with as much pressure as he thinks she can stand. “Let go for me.  I’ve got you.”

The reassurance is the final thing Y/N needs to fall apart, and once she knows that she can, it happens with an intensity that shocks even her.  When the coil inside her belly snaps, a guttural moan tears from her mouth, and she grasps the pole in front of her as tightly as she can while collapsing back into Harry’s chest. 

“Fuck, there we go, yeah? Shhh, keep it down for me, angel. Don’t wanna have to stop until you beg me to.” 

Her grip on the ladder does nothing to support her, but as Harry’s hushed words ring in her mind, she knows she doesn’t have to worry about that.  Harry’s arms and chest are strong enough to do it for her, allowing her to sink into her pleasure as much as she needs to. 

When Y/N slumps in his arms, her neck finally shifts enough that her cross falls back into its designated position between her collarbones, providing Harry with relief from the scorching pain he’d been beginning to adjust to.  He can feel his skin begin to heal itself the moment the iron leaves it, and with that small fear tamped down, the creature can turn all his attention to the girl in his arms. 

He slowly and carefully retracts his hand from her panties, shushing the weak squeak that rolls from her lips at the motion. “Good girl.” He mumbles into her ear, kissing her temple softly as her breathing begins to regulate itself. “Shh, you’re alright.  Y’did so well for me, darling.”

The comforting praise comes easily to him, and as he continues to hold Y/N as she regains her previous headspace, Harry begins to wonder just how far he’d be able to push her before she reaches her limits.  How far into subspace can she go before she hits the point of no return?  Could Harry successfully guide her there and lead her back?  Could she ever trust him enough to submit fully to his every request, taking solace in the knowledge that he can take care of her as well as— or better, even— she can take care of herself?  Harry wants to think yes, but he can’t dwell on the idea any longer; Y/N’s beginning to shift against him again, and he’ll never be able to earn that wholehearted trust if he doesn’t tend to her now. 

Lifting his hand to his own lips, Harry wraps his tongue around his drenched fingers, lapping at the sweet wetness that coats them down to his rings.  He hums in appreciation, stippling another tender kiss to Y/N’s neck when he retracts his fingers from his mouth. 

“Taste so sweet, y’know that?” He whispers, the question half a test to see how aware Y/N is as her head begins to clear. “C’mere, I want you to taste.”

Y/N lazily tilts her head to the side, a small smile playing on her lips as they meet Harry’s for a slow kiss.  Trailing his fingers down her side, Harry skillfully buttons the side of her overalls again, adjusting the fabric to lie comfortable against her skin.

“How are you feeling, hm?” He murmurs, rubbing his large hand soothingly over her belly as her breathing begins to regulate again. “How was that?”

“I feel…” Y/N struggles to make sense of her swimming head, resting it against Harry’s shoulder as she tries to form a coherent response. “Good.”

Harry sighs with relief, smearing a quick kiss to her cheek as he grins. “Good.  That’s good.” 

With his right hand still wrapped around her middle, he carefully lowers himself and Y/N from the ladder, keeping a tight grip on the girl until he knows her feet are planted firmly on the ground. 

As the afterglow of her climax begins to fade, a heated flush begins to crawl up Y/N’s spine to settle on the apples of her cheeks. “I, um—” The corners of her lips tug upwards with a bashful tone, and she twists around in Harry’s arms to shyly meet his canopy green eyes. “I can’t believe I did that.” 

“You didn’t do anything.  It takes two to tango, pet.  And, honestly…” Harry flashes a boyish simper at her as he yanks her closer to him by her hips. “I think I did most of the work.” 

“That’s true.” A breathless laugh stutters from Y/N’s chest as she curls her hands around Harry’s bulging biceps, steadying herself from the after effects of her orgasm, which are turning her legs to jelly. “I could, um…” She flicks her eyes from the door to the prominent bulge in Harry’s black slacks before capturing his gaze in hers again. “Return the favour?”

Harry snorts as he gives a quick shake of his head, his teeth catching on his bottom lip while he runs his hands down the back of her rumpled shirt. “Not here, baby.  How about we wait until we’re back at my place for you to show me how my sweet girl sucks cock, hm?”

“So it’s alright for you to distract me from my book search to finger me in a public area,” Y/N fakes indignation to distract herself from the ache that’s starting to pulse in her core again at Harry’s proposal. “But the moment I want to suck you off, you say ‘not here’?  What kind of double standard is that?”

Lips twitching in amusement, Harry stifles a laugh as he turns the girl in his arms, pressing her back to his chest once again before wrapping his arms back around her waist. “You’re right.  I distracted you from your book search. How rude of me.” He coos, nodding up to the shelf as he grazes his teeth against her pulse. “Think I see a pretty copy of Sense and Sensibility up there.  Y’think you can reach it, or do you need me to do it, sweetheart?” 

The shuddering of Y/N’s heartbeat contrasts with her heated reply. “I can reach it just fine if you behave yourself.” She shoots back, smacking the hand that’s beginning to wander towards her center again. “Or is that too difficult for you?” 

“It’s extremely difficult when I’m near you.” The reply, while truthful, sends a quiver down Harry’s spine, and he presses a chaste kiss to the human girl’s shoulder before releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll get the book.”

Y/N tugs the hair tie from her locks, shaking them out before pulling them back again in a neat manner. “You know, I never thought I was one for antiquing, but today was fun.” 

“Well, it doesn’t usually involve getting finger-fucked on a ladder,” Harry states bluntly, glancing over his shoulder with a dimpled smile on his face. “So I’m not really sure if today can be the marker for an average antiquing session.”

Y/N’s face boils at the brazen comment, and she tucks a strand of loose hair that she’d missed behind her ear as she swallows hard. “No.” She replies with a soft and timid laugh, shaking her head gently. “I suppose that’s true.” 

Harry hums in reply as he snags the old copy of the Jane Austen novel from the top shelf, climbing down the ladder effortlessly and landing back on the ground with a soft thud. “But I’m glad you had fun.” Harry steps towards Y/N with a satisfied air, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger as a teasing smile plays on his ruby lips. “And I’m even more glad we found a replacement for that terrible tapestry of yours.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she smacks Harry’s hand from her chin before snatching the novel from his hands. “Stop being mean to Amanda!  You’ll hurt her feelings.”

A snort boasts from Harry’s throat as he recalls the day she had told him what she’d named the piece hanging from her wall, and he bends down to scoop up the Monet print while shaking his head impassively, clutching it in one hand as he snakes the other around Y/N’s waist once again. “Well, I hope Amanda doesn’t have feelings, because I’m going to burn her.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not, because I’m going to hang her over your bed, just so you can stare at her while you fall asleep each night.” 

Harry groans loudly as he guides his lover from the music room and back to the open space of the antique mall. “Please.  If anything is going over my bed, it’s a mirror, not a college freshman’s poor excuse of an attempt at interior design.” 

Y/N wrinkles her nose at the comment, shaking her head at the crude suggestion. “A mirror?  That better be a joke.”

“It was, but now that I’m thinking about it…”

“You’re disgustingly conceited.” 

“Oh please, you lo—” Harry catches himself just before the word love rolls off his lips.  Though he’s said it before when referring to certain aspects of their sex life (like how he loves the way her mouth feels, or how she loves the way he stretches her out), it just seems oddly repulsive to say at this very moment. Too intimate, almost.

Therefore, the creature bites back the offensive phrase and tugs her closer by the waist, covering up his sudden hesitation with his signature smirk. “You like that idea, don’t you, dove?”

Y/N keeps her face neutral as they pass by an older couple examining a grandfather clock. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Sure you don’t.” Harry laughs sharply, nuzzling his face into the top of Y/N’s hair and pressing a casual kiss to the crown of her head. “Need I remind you that your request for my interior design skills is what started this whole thing?”

“And if you had suggested I mount a mirror over my bed, this whole thing would’ve been over before it even had a chance to start.”

“You say that now, but if you were to see the way my cock looks while it slams into your—”

“Harry!” Y/N hisses, blood rushing to her cheeks as he guides her around a corner stacked with porcelain dolls. 

“Fine. No mirror.” Harry relents, a disappointed sigh falling from his lips as he palms Y/N’s waist closer to himself. “But the tapestry needs to be burned.”

“No.”

“Thrown away.”

“No.”

“Folded up and tucked under the bed?”

“Possibly.  And that’s as good an ending as you’ll get.” 

That night, after Harry has satisfied his craving for both Y/N and the sweet liquid that pumps through her veins, and has settled in for his usual nightly routine of rhythmically caressing her back to lull her into a deep slumber, and as he counts the breaths the mortal sighs between nightfall and sunrise while her soft snoring sings a lullaby to his ears, he can’t help but think that…

That yes, this really is as good an ending as he’ll ever get. 

[marvelous-harry]

Reader surprising Harry at one of his shows

Horse & Hound Harry/Fem!Reader Words: 1126 A/N: I changed it a teeny tiny bit, hope you don't mind! x

“We should tell him, give him time to prepare,” I said down the phone for the hundredth time as I talked to Jeff. Fiddling with the strap on my bag, I looked absentmindedly out the window as the taxi drove on the highway.

“We should not tell him, I have to get him through a few interviews still and if he knows you’re coming he will be unbearable. Plus he loves surprises!” Jeff said excitedly.

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “Jeff, he hates surprises,” I laughed.

“Yes, yes he does but he does love you and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Jeff replied before I heard more voices in the background. “Just call me when it’s time and I’ll sort it out,”

Saying goodbye, I hung up the phone and leaned back in my seat to try and get some rest after the long flight.

--

“Miss, we here,” the taxi driver said loudly, waking me in an instant. Looking around blearily, I sat up and cleared my throat.

“Must’ve fallen asleep,” I said as I started searching my bag for my wallet while calling Jeff at the time. Handing off my card, I held my phone to my ear when I saw Jeff picking up. “Hi, I’m here,” I smiled politely at the driver as he handed back my card. “Hold on, give me a sec,” I huffed as I opened the car door and got my suitcase and handbag out. Taking a deep breath as the taxi driver sped off, I held the phone to my ear again.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m outside. By the gate,” I heard Jeff call someone over. “Alright, I’m sending Alex to come to meet you downstairs and I’ll get security to let you in,” Jeff said quietly.

“Thanks, I’ll just stand here awkwardly and wait,” I heard him chuckling. “Shouldn’t be too long, they’re on their way already,” Jeff told me.

“Are you going back to the hotel at all or staying here till the show?” I asked seeing at it was only 2 in the afternoon and the show didn’t start till 8.

“Emm, no we’ll be heading back just after the interviews are done for dinner, though I suppose Harry won’t be dining with us anymore. And after that, we’d head back here for final soundcheck before getting ready,” I smiled.

“Oh! The gate is opening, see you in a bit I guess!” “See you,” Hanging up and putting my phone away, I grabbed the handle on my suitcase. Making small talk with security till we made it inside, I grinned as I saw Alex, Harry’s assistant. “Hi! I missed you! It’s so good to see you again!” I gushed as I gave him a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you too, it’s been forever already,” Alex replied, helping me with my suitcase.

“I know, it’s been what? A month? That’s insane,” I replied as we headed towards the elevator. “Yeah, a month and week, I think,” he added as we stepped inside.

“So, Harry’s just finishing up some interviews before we’re going to go to the hotel for a bit. We’ll hide you in one of the smaller dressings rooms while he finishes up, then you can surprise him!” Alex grinned. “Fuck, my stomach is like hurting from all the nerves. Why am I doing this? I hate surprises. Harry hates surprises,” I groaned and looked at Alex with a grimace on my face.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Alex chuckled as he stuck his head out of the opening elevator doors. “Come on!” He whispered loudly and started walking quickly down the hall. Clutching my bag, I hurried after him.

“This is so fucking stupid,” I said as the door to the little dressing room closed behind us and I sank down on the couch, clutching my chest. “I’m too old for this, Alex, I swear I’m getting a heartburn,”

“And here I was thinking Harry was the dramatic one,” Alex rolled his eyes at me as stood by the door, checking his phone. I flipped him off before sitting up a bit more properly. “Hey, tell him there’s one more interview after the real last one. And tell him my name is William and I’m from Horse & Hound magazine,” I smiled at his confused face but he agreed to do it regardless.

--

Jumping as there was a knock on the door, I panicked until I saw it was just Jeff. “Jeffrey!” I said excitedly as I got up and gave him a tight hug. “How are you?” I asked as pulled back. “Good, how are you?” He asked back. I nodded and smiled. “I’m good, I’m good. Is it time?”

Jeff grinned. “Yeah, the last interviewer just left so it’s just Alex with him right now. Come on,” Jeff took my hand. Squeezing it tightly, I bit my lip to try and calm myself.

“So this is the last one yeah? I need food and a change of shoes.” I could hear Harry say and I didn’t realize just how much I’d missed until I heard him speak. A warm lovely feeling spread all through my body as I took in the sight of him. “Last one. Name is William and is from a magazine called Horse and Hound,” Alex said, managing to keep his voice straight.

“What?” Harry coughed as he looked at Alex equally confused and amused. “Did you just say Horse and Hound?!” he asked.

I took a few steps into the room. “So, any horses in your show? Or hounds maybe? Our readers appreciate both equally,” I asked loudly, letting go of Jeff’s hand while strolling further into the room.

“No, fucking way,” Harry said before rushing over. Throwing my hands around him, I closed my eyes and breathed him in. “God, I’ve missed you,” I whispered, feeling a little choked up.

“Missed you too,” Harry whispered back before kissing me softly. “I thought you couldn’t make it for another two weeks?” Harry asked as he stroked my arms.

I reached up and wiped away some of my lip balm that had been transferred to Harry’s cheek. “Our client got a better deal elsewhere apparently so I was free to go, so here I am,” I explained before hugging him tightly again.

“I’ve never been happier that you got work dumped,” Harry grinned, kissing my forehead. “One question,” he said before looking at me seriously. “Why am I always Julia Roberts?” he pouted and rested his forehead against mine.

“Cause your Hugh Grant impression is horrible,” I told him with a grin.

“Well that’s a blatant lie,” Harry replied before kissing me again. Closing my eyes, I smiled against his lips. Getting work dumped was turning out pretty great.

[handsomelyhiddleston]

The Cabin - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader (Part 3/3)

Part 1

Part 2

You threw some shorts and your favorite baggy hoodie on and headed downstairs to see what everyone’s plans were for the day. When you made it downstairs you saw that most of Chris’ family was dressed to go to the mountain and ski or snowboard.

“You guys headed up to the resort?” you asked, taking the plate of food that Lisa handed you and sitting next to one of Chris’ sisters.

“Everyone but ma” Scott answered, looking half asleep on the other side of the table.

“Let Chris know that I had all of the tires checked on my SUV, even the spare” you said to Scott.

Scott nodded towards the stairs where Chris was almost to the bottom. “Y/n, Can I borrow your truck or do you need it today?” he asked.

“I was just telling Scott the tires and the spare are all good to go so you shouldn’t have to worry about them” you answered, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Perfect” he said, stopping to kiss you on the cheek before going to the kitchen to grab food. “Between our two trucks I think we can fit everyone.”

When everyone was packing up for their day trip up the mountain, you made sure to throw some extra jackets, blankets, and snacks in the back of your truck and made sure Chris knew they were there.

“Are you not going?” you asked Tom when he started helping Lisa gather all of the dirty dishes from breakfast.

“I think I’d rather hang back with you if you’d like the company” he said, stacking a few more plates.

“I think Lisa and I can put you to good use” you teased, grabbing the stack of plates from him and walking them to the kitchen. “Lisa, what are your plans for the day?”

“I don’t need to start dinner until 2 or so” she answered, cleaning up the kitchen from the breakfast mess. “Is the TV by the hot tub out back set up?”

“It is!” you answered. “The remote is waterproof and it’s already signed into all of the apps on it so you can watch pretty much anything.”

“Then I think I’m going to enjoy my quiet day relaxing” she laughed. “I watch the kids most days back home so this’ll be a little vacation within a vacation.”

“Oh my god, I almost forgot!” you said, turning to reach into the cabinet above your refrigerator. “I got you this last time I drove down through the vineyards.”

You handed her a bottle of the wine she fell in love with last time the family was at your cabin. “You didn’t!” She sat the bottle down on the counter and pulled you into a hug.

“You may as well have a glass while you’re relaxing out back” you said, watching Tom put the rest of the dishes from the table into the sink.

“Maybe just one” she laughed, going back to putting the leftover food away.

“What wine is it?” Tom asked.

Lisa started talking about the wine and how it reminded her of her favorite wine that they no longer made, insisting that she pour the two of you a glass when she poured hers.

“Ooo, that is very nice” Tom said, taking a sip.

When Lisa tried to help with the dishes you told her to go and relax. Tom helped you finish up cleaning the kitchen.

“What’s next?” Tom asked.

“Do you want to bake our cookies?” you asked in response.

Tom smiled, taking another sip of his wine. “That sounds wonderful.”

You turned the oven on and pulled all of the ingredients you bought out of the cabinet, telling Tom where he could grab the mixing bowls and measuring cups/spoons. The two of you took your time, laughing and talking as you mixed the ingredients all together.  

“These are going to be so good” you said, commenting on the fact that Tom had picked out regular chocolate chips and white chocolate chips and mixed them together in the cookie dough.

“You can never have too much chocolate” he said, sneaking a bit of the uncooked cookie dough into his mouth.

“So impatient” you teased, shooing his hand away when he went to grab more.

When you filled a baking sheet with balls of cookie dough, Tom put it in the oven and set the timer. You hopped up to sit on your counter while you waited, taking another sip of your wine.

“How was your workout with Chris this morning” you asked.

Tom laughed. “Let’s just say I was grateful to get rid of some tension after doing some…*clears throat*…light reading last night.”

You looked confused for about two second before you realized what he was talking about. You threw your head back laughing, “You started reading my book.”

“Oh, you underestimate your own talent, darling” Tom replied, walking up to you. “I read the whole book.”

Your cheeks instantly went warm. “Well, what did you think?” The look on Tom’s face, the way he licked his lips…you almost wished you hadn’t started baking so that you could just drag him up to your bedroom right now.

Tom’s hands settled on your knees, slowly pulling them apart so that he could stand between them. “I think…” his lips gently pressed against yours as his hands slid up to rest against your hips. “…that your mind is just as sexy as the rest of you.” He deepened the kiss, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

You put your arms around his neck, his body leaning into yours. “Is that so?”

Tom wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you tight against his body. “Absolutely, darling.” Right when Tom reconnected your lips, the timer to the oven went off.

Tom laughed, resting his forehead against yours.

“We keep getting interrupted” you laughed.

Right as you finished talking, Lisa walked back inside from the back porch with a towel wrapped around her.

“You’re not wrong” Tom laughed.

Lisa looked over at the two of you and smiled. “Aww, don’t let me stop you two. You might want to check whatever you’ve got in the oven, though.” The timer was continuing to beep.

Tom quickly kissed you again before stepping back and grabbing the oven mitts. “I’ll switch these out.”

While Tom was putting the last sheet of cookies in the oven, you were talking to Lisa.

“I think we should prepare everything we can for dinner early” you suggested.

“What for?” Lisa asked, topping off all three of the wine glasses.

“Well, if we get it done now, we’ll just have to throw it in the oven later” you answered. “Then we can order some Chinese take-out for lunch, open another bottle of wine, and play some games.”

Lisa seemed to be considering it.

“Sounds like the perfect way to spend probably your only quiet afternoon on this trip” Tom laughed, resetting the oven timer for the last batch of cookies.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me” Lisa said, opening the refrigerator to start prepping dinner.

You and Tom quickly cleaned up the mess from the cookies, making room for Lisa. “Mmm, these are delicious” Tom said, taking a bite of one of the cookies. He held the cookie towards you so you could take a bite.

“They’re so good when they’re still warm” you said, licking a bit of chocolate off of your lip.

Tom smiled, pulling you into a quick kiss. “I could have gotten that for you, you know.”

You laughed, stealing the rest of his cookie. “Okay, what do you guys want from the Chinese restaurant?”

Over the next few hours, the three of you went through another bottle of wine, most of the Chinese food, and 3 or 4 different card and board games. When Chris and the rest of the family got back, the three of you were a little drunk, hanging out in the kitchen while dinner finished cooking, telling stories and spending most of the time laughing.

“What’s going on here?” Chris asked, hugging his mom and asking if she was drunk.

“Just a little” Lisa laughed, moving to pull dinner out of the oven.

“It looks like you guys had a good time” he said, leaning against the counter that you were currently sitting on. Tom had started pulling out clean dishes for dinner.

“We had a great time” you answered. “How was the mountain?”

“So good” Chris said, pulling out his phone and showing you pictures and videos of the kids learning how to snowboard.

“Aww, I’m glad” you said, telling him to send you a few of them so that you could have them printed and added to the photos in the den.

“The table is set” Tom said, walking back into the kitchen.

“Thank you” you replied, opening your arms so that he would come stand between your knees. “Dinner should be ready in a few minutes”

Tom blushed as he slid his arms around you, knowing Chris was going to say something “I think everything is good to go, then.”

Chris smirked over at you. “Let me reiterate my statement from earlier. It looks like you guys had a great time.”

“You could say that” Tom said, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to your lips before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the dining room table.

That night you, Chris, Tom, and Scott were the last ones up. All of the activity on the mountain made most call it an early night.

“I’m going to go sit up in the hot tub if anyone wants to join me” you said, standing up from your position tucked into Tom’s side.

When you were all the way up the stairs, Scott and Chris turned to Tom.

“How’s it goin’ buddy?” Scott asked, smirking.

Tom laughed, looking up the stairs where you’d disappeared to. “Well, if I had to put it into words I’d say ‘very well’.”

“Is this just you guys having fun or is this going to continue after break?” Chris asked. He knew you were an adult, but he still felt very protective of you.

“I haven’t actually had the chance to talk to her about it” Tom replied.

“What do you want it to be?” Scott asked.

“If I’m being honest, I hope this is going somewhere permanent” Tom confessed. “She’s…” He started his sentence and cleared his throat, knowing that he was about to gush about his feelings. “Well, you two know her. You know she’s incredible.”

“Nah, what were you going to say” Chris reached to slap Tom’s shoulder, laughing.

“I know that this is going to sound horribly cliché” Tom continued, “but she’s perfect. She’s kind, creative, intelligent, beautiful, confident, funny…”

Scott let out a quiet “aww”

“And if you don’t mind, I’d like a few minute head start joining her upstairs” Tom said, standing and walking towards the stairs.

“No sex in the hot tub!” Chris jokingly yelled.

Tom laughed. “I’d need more than a few minutes for that.” He could hear the brothers laughing as he jogged up the stairs, snagging his swim shorts before walking into your room.

“Y/n?” Tom called into your room.

“Just getting changed” you said, your arms covering your bare chest as you peeked out your closet door. You’d just slipped your bikini bottoms on, but you hadn’t sorted out the straps to your top. “Are you joining me?”

“I think we all are” Tom smiled, closing your bedroom door. “I asked for a head start so I could speak to you for a moment.”

“Can we talk while I sort out my top?” you asked, walking back into your closet.

“Of course,” Tom replied, pulling his own shirt off. “I wanted to talk to you about…well, us.”

“A topic I’m very interested in” you answered. “Go on.”

“That’s good to hear” Tom laughed, stripping out of his jeans and boxers. “I don’t know what you want, but I wanted to make sure that my feelings were clear.” Tom pulled the swim trunks on.

“Well, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours” you said, walking out of your closet when your top was in place.

Tom smiled, opening his arms and pulling you against him. “I really like you” he said, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I was hoping that this is something you will want to continue after I’ve gone back to LA.”

Tom’s eyes were closed, his forehead rested against yours. “That’s a relief” you said, connecting your lips in a much more passionate kiss. “I was going to ask you how you felt about me driving back down to LA with you two.”  

“Really?” Tom’s eyes brightened.

“Yes, really” you laughed.

“That would make me very happy” Tom replied.

“Then it’s a plan” you said, moving to open your bedroom door and pulling Tom out onto the balcony.

When the brothers joined you two a few minutes later, they were dramatically walking around with their eyes closed, trying to feel their way to the balcony door. “Please tell me no one’s naked” Chris teased.

“You’re gonna have to see for yourself” you laughed. You were leaning back against Tom’s chest with his arms wrapped around your middle.

Scott opened one eye, calling an “all clear” when he spotted the two of you cuddled up in the hot tub.

The four of you hung out in the hot tub for probably another hour before the brothers called it a night.

When you and Tom climbed out of the hot tub, you wrapped a towel around yourself and walked to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. You turned on the shower and walked back to the doorway. “I’m going to shower tonight if you’d like to join me.”

Without waiting for a response, you dropped your towel on the counter and stripped out of your bikini. You stepped into the steaming shower, feeling the hot water run from your hair down your body. With your eyes closed, you lathered up your hair with shampoo and started rinsing it out. You could feel a short cool breeze as Tom opened the curtain to step into the shower with you. Before you opened your eyes, you felt Tom’s hands on your hips.

“You are absolutely stunning” Tom said, one of his hands moving to rest against the side of your face as he pulled your lips against his.

“I could say the same thing about you” you replied as your eyes took in his full naked form. Your hands slid down tom’s back and rested against his ass.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Tom asked, his hands moving to your breasts and his lips moving to your neck.

“Just move your stuff to my room” you answered, your hands pulling Tom’s body firmly against yours.

“Now that I know I’ve got more time with you tonight” Tom laughed, grabbing your body soap and lathering his hands. “Let’s get clean and then we can move this to your bed.”

“Gladly” you smiled, lathering your hands and running them over Tom’s body.

The two of you didn’t actually fall asleep until after Tom’s gym alarm went off. Tom had sent Chris a text saying that he was going to skip the gym this morning, but that he’d continue going with Chris starting tomorrow.

When Chris went to give Tom shit for ditching the gym, he realized why he was staying home. Tom’s room was empty.

“I’m sure you got enough of a workout in last night anyways” Chris replied to Tom’s text with a few obscene emojis.

Tom laughed, tightening his arms around you after he set his phone down on the bedside table. “Chris will probably have a few questions for us when we wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it” you replied, snuggling into Tom’s side.

“Get some rest, darling” Tom said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

A few weeks later while on a lunch break from filming, Chris looked over at Tom and you. “Did Y/n ever tell you what her other pen name is for?”

Tom nearly choked on his food, and you couldn’t help but laugh and reply, “You’re never going to drop that, are you?”

Chris’ eyes narrowed as he started at Tom. “God damnit, she told you.”

Tom started laughing. “I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did you tell him?” Chris looked at you.

“He’s my boyfriend, Chris. Of course he knows.”

“I’ve known you for years! You’re my best friend! You barely just met him!” You couldn’t help but laugh at Chris’ dramatics.

“Should I tell him?” you turned to Tom.

“I don’t know how he would handle it” Tom teased.

“I can handle it!” Chris interrupted.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else. Not even Scott.” You reached your hand across the table with your pinky sticking out.

“Did you make him pinky promise?” Chris snarked, hooking his pinky with yours.

“She did, actually” Tom laughed.

“Fine, I swear on my life I won’t tell anyone” Chris said, leaning forward so you could tell him.

You pulled out your phone and sent him a link to your website that lists all of your adult books. “Just so you know, you were sort of the inspiration for one of my characters.” You stood from the table and grabbed Tom’s hand as Chris opened the text and clicked the link. You were quietly laughing at Chris’ wide eyes as he realized what he was looking at.

“Wait, what?!” Chris looked up at the two of you. “You wrote all of these?”

“She’s did.” Tom squeezed your hand. “The ones I’ve read so far are actually incredible.”

“Thanks, babe” you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the two of you walking towards his trailer.

“How do I know which one you based on me?” Chris called out.

“You’ll have to read them to find out” you answered, feeling Tom wrap his arm around your shoulders.

[writersblog20]

Everybody has a hard time, from time to time

Tom Hiddleston x Freader

Warnings: reader being drunk, little bit of anxiety but disguised as nervousness.Angst but not too much. Language. And feeling worthless. Readers boss gaslighting her but it’s not much. age-gap reader is 25. Implied smut sort of? But also not really

Words: 3470

Summary: The reader meets Tom Hiddleston and he asked her out on a date. But on the date she gets a call from her extremely drunken best friend….

A/N: I just went with it and I don’t even know what it turned out hahaha I'm also sorry for the spelling mistakes and stuff

Everybody has a hard time from time to time

Y/N was walking down the streets. Headphones in and 4 coffees on a tray. She sighed and started walking faster back to her stupid job. Her boss gave her a really hard time but lately it had gotten worse. She tried to calm down and take a minute but balancing lunch and coffee was definitely not on her resume. She was so lost in her thought that she got back to it until her butt hit the pavement pretty hard.

Everything went so fast and she felt the very hot coffee on her chest soaking her blouse. “Fuck!” she cursed out. “oh my god I’m so sorry” the man said who was kneeling besides her now trying to help her. “it’s fine. Just going to get fired now. but honestly it’s fine” you said in anger.

You looked up and to your surprise you saw it was your favorite actor Tom Hiddleston. Worry filled his pool blue eyes. you wanted to freak out but honestly you were more freaking out about your boss right now. “God I really am sorry ma’am. Let me pay for some new coffee!” he told you kindly. You carefully tried to dry your blouse. Tom got a dry sweater from his bag.

“please take it, god I’m so sorry” He told you with actual more worry in his eyes. “is there anything I can do for you? I can walk with you to your boss to explain what happened” he told you a little panicked. You chuckled at the sweet gesture and started to feel sorry for him because how bad he felt.

“It’s okay. I doubt that would change much.” He nodded. “are you hurt?” he asked you helping you up. “eh no I’m fine I think.” You told him. “I’m really sorry please take my jumper. I know it isn’t much but at least it’s dry” he told you and almost shove it in your hands. “thank you!” you told him and he looked a little more relaxed that he at least could do something for you.

“well I should go now.” you told him. “I do need that jumper back” he told you with a grin and you started to feel flustered. “right I’m sorry I….” he cut you off before you could finish that sentence. “I ehm never really do this but how about you give it back on our date? If you would gladly accept of course. My treat for what happened.” You were starstruck but you thought he wanted to take you on a date out of pity. “ you don’t have to do that Tom, you don’t have to take me on a date because you feel bad. Gives off the wrong signals.” You told him while cleaning your pants from the dirt on the ground.

“I’m eh Tom” he told you. You chuckled “yeah I know. Big fan” you said still chuckling and he giggled a little. He waited for you to say your name but you were lost in thoughts again. “oh I’m sorry I’m Y/N” he giggled and gently took your hand and placed a kiss on the top of it. “it’s really nice to meet you. And again I’m very sorry how we met” he said scratching his head. “it’s not all your fault. I was very lost in thought so I should've looked where i was walking” you told him.

“I want to take you out on a date because you are magnificently beautiful and now I have more of a reason to make it up to you. That’s why I want to take you out.” He told you with a gentle smile. “oh ehm well then I would love to go on a date with you” you told him flustered feeling extremely dumb at the moment. “Are you free this Saturday evening?” he asked you. “yeah absolutely” you told him. he gave you his phone and you put your number in it. “I’ll text you.” He said with a wink. “okay” was all you could say. You stood there for a minute before going back.

On your way you changed into Tom’s jumper and got new coffee and lunch. You made your way back to your job. You obvious got shit from your boss and you told her what happened but she wasn’t taking it. “you are absolutely worthless! You can’t even get some fucking coffee! I don’t even know why I hired you in the first place. You can go and you don’t have to come back” she told you

It made you furies. There was no way she would take you back and honestly you wouldn’t even want that. “That’s fine cause I wanted to quit either way. You are one horrible person and treat people like shit but honestly you are the biggest piece of shit in this whole building. Probably even in this whole city. So I don’t mind. Bye!!!” you told her and she looked dumbfounded by your sudden outburst.

You walked out of the building with your head up high and a big smile on your face. You really felt more alive at this moment. You got back home and that’s when it hit you that you still had to pay your rent. You started cursing and kicked a chair. You called one of your friends and he came right away to you. “Girl! You got some bad bitch energy! How you stood up against her… I mean damn. That and you have a date with The hot Tom Fucking Hiddleston! Girl you’re so lucky!” he told you while shaking a cocktail for you both.

You chuckled “I’m not gonna drink right now” you told him. “Girl you have better plans? You just got fired and you have nowhere to be right now so just take that drink and live a little! You’re 25 for god’s sake!” You chuckled again and took the drink from him. “you know what you should do? Sell your art! Finish that book that you were writing! I mean I’ve seen your work and it’s absolutely amazing! And since I’m in the art business I might be able to help you out in that and give you an exposition! ” He told you. “let me think about it okay?” you told him a little sad.

“babe you’ve got to stop being scared! You are absolutely amazing on every front! Everyone can see that except for you. So please let me do this for you” He told you. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up and be declined like almost always. I don’t feel good enough and I don’t think I can take another rejection again” you told him honestly.

“it’s life babes…. There will be times where you’re still going to get rejected but don’t let that bring you down. You have to keep fighting for it. And your art is worth fighting for. Believe me! I’m your most honest friend and I’m telling you this from the bottom of my heart. You are good enough! Hell you are more than that! You just have to believe in yourself!” you smiled at his kindness and thought about it. “you know what? Fuck it! Let’s do it!” you told him feeling strong! “yes queen! that’s my girl! Bad bitch energy!” you giggled and got immensely drunk to celebrate it.

~time skip~

The week got by pretty quick and as Luke told you, you got accepted and they were more excited to give you an exposition. You started to search for jobs that you would actually like and started writing again. Life was going good again and you felt so strong and confident until you had the date which would be tomorrow.

You were so nervous. Tom didn’t text you yet and you didn’t have his phone number so it was hard to get in touch with him. Anxiety got the best of you. What if he forgot? What if he forgot about you or changed his mind? Just when your mind got into overdrive you heard your phone pinged. You quickly got it and saw an unknown number. You felt your heart pound in your chest. You opened the text.

“Hello Love, It’s Tom. Are you still up for tomorrow? I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch sooner, it was a chaotic week.” It felt like you could breathe again and texted him back immediately. “Hey Tom, Yes I’m still up for tomorrow. Can’t wait!” You send the message and immediately thought you should texted him a different message. Your phone went off again. But this time he called you. You drowned your wine for some confident.

“Hey Tom.” You said a little nervous. He chuckled. “hello darling” your heart skipped a beat at the nickname and you felt butterflies I mean it was Tom Hiddleston for god’s sake! “I’ll pick you up around 5. Is that okay?” he asked you. “eh yeah of course sure! I ehm am looking forward to it!” you told him honestly. “me too darling” he told you with a chuckle. You both said your goodbyes and you put your phone down.

You tried to watch a movie to get your mind of off your anxiety. When the movie was over you tried to go to bed but you kept staring at your ceiling. I’m not like the other girls he dated. You thought to yourself. But then tried to set it straight by saying maybe that’s the point but then other thoughts consumed you. You tried to fight all the thought by positives one until the early hours of the morning. You finally fell asleep around 5 AM.

Once you woke up you got very excited. It was already 2 in the afternoon since you slept so crappy. You texted your Luke but got no response. You figured he was still asleep. You picked your clothes and 5 PM got around faster then you thought it would. You heard your doorbell and opened up. There he was standing Tom Hiddleston. Alongside with some flowers. No other date had given you flowers. He checked you out with his lips slightly parted. He chuckled: “wow you look amazing!” he said with a small blush creeping up on his cheeks. You giggled. “you too mister Hiddleston” you said boldly which made him chuckle again. He really did look great. He wore a small blouse and a blue blazer over it and jeans. “oh eh these are for you” he told you. You could tell he was nervous as hell which made you feel a little bit more at peace knowing that you weren’t the only one.

“come inside. I’m just going to put these in some water.” You told him and he followed you inside. He loved your apartment. It gave off such a warm cozy vibe. It felt like home. He looked at your art work on the wall. “I adore your apartment.” He told you which made you smile. “thank you” you told him kindly. “I’m ready to go” you told him with a chuckle. You got your coat of the hanger. “Here let me, please.” He told you and got the coat out of your hands and helped you in your coat. It made you flustered and swoon. God you were already falling head over heels for this men.

You both walked into a restaurant but it wasn’t a fancy one but more cozy. You loved it. You talked for hours and both drank some red wine. You both hit it off so well and you were absolutely smitten. And he was too if not more. You both were so much on one line it was amazing. You knew you would never find this again and it kind of scared you. You told him about your boss since he asked if you got trouble that day you first met him and you told the story until you got a call from Luke.

You frowned a little. He knew you were on a date and he would never interrupt you unless it was an emergency. “everything okay?” Tom asked you. “Yeah I just have to take this. I am so sorry!” He chuckled it’s fine” he told you reassuring. You nodded and walked off to the bathroom and picked up. “Luke? What’s wrong?” you asked when you heard him sobbing on the phone. You could tell he was absolutely smashed. “Can you please come to my place? I really need you right now. you can even take Tom with you but please” He begged you with an obvious slur. You felt your heart break for him. You sighed. “alright I’m on my way. Can you hang on?” you asked him. “yeah” he told you still crying. “Thank you so much Y/N I’m so sorry” he told you. “I know it’s okay. I’m on my way okay?”

You hang up the phone and went back to Tom. “everything alright?” he asked you and you felt so guilty. “I eh my friend he needs me right now. he is absolutely smashed and crying and I don’t know what is wrong but he asked me to come to him.” Tom looked at the table “I’m so sorry! I had a lovely time and I would love to do this some time again! If you still want to of course…” You said the last part a little softer. He smiled at you. “I eh could go with you if you’d like and if it’s okay with your friend.” Tom told you. “Are you sure? You really don’t have to” you told him. “I’m going to be honest with you. I really like you and I don’t want this evening to stop…. So if that means taking care of your drunken friend to be with you, I will. But I understand if you feel different.” This time Tom said the last part a little softer. You chuckled and felt your body filling up with love. “I really like you too Tom and in that case… Let’s go” you chuckled. He looked a little surprised but happy.

Tom paid the bill even when you tried to intervene but he wasn’t having it. “next time you can pay” he told you with a wink. You were flustered. He helped you to get your coat on and you both made your way. You slightly touched his hand and put yours in his. He looked a little surprised down at you. “I eh is this okay?” you asked him a little nervous. “it is, love.” You looked down a little with a smile. His thumb caressing the back of your hand softly. “I’m really sorry about this.” You told him honestly. “really it’s okay. I totally understand!” he told you truthfully.

You got to Luke’s house and you used your keys. “Luke? It’s me, where are you?” you asked him. you heard Abba blasting through the speakers. You immediately turned it down a bit. Empty bottles were laying everywhere. “Y/N?” Luke called out to you. You followed the sound and saw him laying by the toilet. You took of your coat and walked over to him and sat him down by the toilet. “What happened?” you asked him. he sniffled a little. “Cooper broke up with me and even over a text message” you looked at him a little sad for him. you went with your hands through his hair. Tom stood behind you but Luke didn’t notice yet. Luke started to laugh. Great mood swings you thought. Tom gave you a glass of water and you smiled a little at him. You gave the water to Luke. He looked up and saw Tom. Tom waved at him a little. “oh he’s so cute and hot!” he told you like Tom wouldn’t hear it. You started to laugh. You looked at Tom and he chuckled.

“I’m sorry I ruined your date” he looked at you and Tom. “we’ll there’s going to be a second so don’t worry too much about it” you told him and you looked at Tom who winked at you. Luke started to throw up and you both looked away. You softly touched Luke’s back to let him know you weren’t going anywhere. “you okay?” you asked after he was done. “yeah I think I can get up now.” he told you. “okay good let’s get you upstairs then.” You helped Luke up which was a challenge on its own. “here let me” Tom said and took Luke over from you. He put Luke’s arm over his shoulders and helped him upstairs. Luke started to stare at Tom.

“Luke…. You’re staring.” You told him. “I know.” Luke told you serious and furrowed his eyebrows at Tom. “Look. I’m thankful you help me but you better take care of my best friend alright! She’s an angel and don’t you dare to hurt her!” he slurred at Tom while you were already in Luke’s bedroom. “I’m not planning on it mate. I promise.” He told Luke. He narrowed his eyebrows. “yeah I believe that. Finally a good guy Y/N!” he yelled happy at you. You flustered again. You mouthed: “I’m sorry” at Tom and he just gave you a reassuring smile. You both put Luke into bed. You put an extra pillow under his head for the nausea. You put down a bucket and a glass of water beside him.

“please stay the night. I don’t want to be alone and your boyfriend can stay too” you were both flustered at the last part Luke said. “I’ll stay don’t worry. But you need some sleep now.” Luke nodded and turned around. “I love you” Luke told you sleepy. “I love you too” you told him and closed the door and leaned against it. “I’m really sorry about this. Normally it doesn’t happen” you told Tom a little embarrassed. He put a hand on your cheek “it’s okay love. Really we all have moments like this” you nodded. “well I need a drink now…. You want one?” you asked and chuckled. “yeah sounds good” he said and chuckled as well.

You both went downstairs and took out the empty bottles and after that made you both a drink. You sat down on the couch and Tom next to you. You both talked into the late hours and started to get drunk. You were leaning against Tom by now. you looked up at him and he looked down at you with love and adoration in his eyes. “please stay tonight.” You kind of asked him. “only if you want me to” he told you. “yeah I do. But just to clarify I never took a guy back home (or well my friends house) to stay the night” You told him with a chuckle. He laughed as well. When it got silence you just stared at each other.

His face ,slowly, started to get closer to you giving you enough time to pull away but instead you softly put your lips on his. His hand caressing your cheek and your hand in his hair slightly pulling at it as the kiss started to get heated. He pulled you on his lap, both of your legs on either side of him. His hands going under your shirt and stayed on your back. He slowly got up and laid you down on the couch with your legs around his waist. You broke from the kiss and put your hand on his chest. “Tom…. I don’t want to do it on the first date and definitely not here” you chuckled which made him giggle as well. “totally understandable!” He told you.

“I can go I you want me to” he told you. “no, please stay.” He gave you a warm smile that made your heart melt. You made some space so Tom could lay down as well. You laid your head on his chest and he went with his hands through your hair. Well this was definitely not the perfect date…. But luckily it was with the perfect guy.