#I love both don’t attack me pls I’m just a lil guy

[lavenderr-starrs]

Don’t get me wrong I’m a sobbing mess for madohomu as much as the next guy

But. Y’know. 👀

I like me my Fire and Water gals too <3

[teklarn]

I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently. 

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end

warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol,  second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(

word count: 2507

pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things. 

- - -

read part one here my loves !!

you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all. 

part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever. 

at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds. 

at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. 

“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?” 

your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?” 

he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated. 

“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding. 

“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.” 

“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.” 

“do you want to go back to the dorms?” 

you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.” 

midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up. 

“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—” 

“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance. 

you gulped. “yeah, there’s—” 

“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”

your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough. 

- 

the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears. 

each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him? 

it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue. 

you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him. 

you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name. 

“y/n?” 

you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?” 

“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?” 

your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.” 

“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise. 

yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?” 

you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.” 

- 

it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it. 

you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out. 

most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it. 

surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together. 

unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side. 

in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.) 

you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three. 

“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned. 

your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.” 

“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.” 

you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.” 

you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him. 

“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away. 

“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles. 

you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.” 

he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight. 

“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume. 

midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—” 

“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.” 

“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself. 

“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked. 

“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another. 

you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen. 

a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground. 

izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”

you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.” 

you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.” 

“bu—” 

“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.” 

midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand. 

attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting. 

cement flew into the air. 

that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots. 

in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder. 

bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest. 

you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya. 

while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park. 

you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question. 

twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement. 

it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost. 

your head whipped around to see him charging for you. 

your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore. 

bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right? 

when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain. 

bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions. 

he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering. 

it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up. 

“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling. 

“y/n! are you alright?” 

you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”

“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.” 

“do you need—” 

you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst. 

although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg. 

you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.

you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly. 

there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away. 

she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?” 

you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.” 

the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down. 

she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?” 

you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.” 

“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.” 

“mhm,” you agreed. 

“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.” 

you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you. 

when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?” 

“yes, thank you recovery girl.” 

she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.

your eyes fluttered shut not long after that. 

- 

the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off. 

“good, you’re awake.” 

you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!” 

bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage. 

“what...what do you want?” 

even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.” 

your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.” 

“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.” 

heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-” 

“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.” 

“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused. 

“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone. 

“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.” 

“the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?” 

bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.” 

you gulped. 

“so what’re you saying?” 

“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.” 

“say it again.” 

“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours. 

“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.” 

it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out. 

“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.” 

he grinned. “where to?”

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: X

I will not ask you where you came from,

I will not ask and neither should you.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips,

We should just kiss like real people do.

Like Real People Do, Hozier

A/N: okay i know i say this every time but genuinely THIS IS MY FAVOURITE PART SO FAR!!!!! and my lil section of this story has come to an end!!! act one is done!!! and the beginning of act two aka part 11 will be coming on andrea’s blog!!!!! thank u guys so so much for all the love and support you’ve given us!!!! we truly cannot believe you guys have been so receptive and we love you all so so much 🦋 as always any and all feedback is deeply appreciated not just by andrea and I but by all content creators!!! seriously we do all of this for free while going to school and working full time and those little messages make our days so much better!!! so do reblogs!!! you should reblog the content you like!!!! leave a lil message in the tags!!! shoot us a message!! anything is truly madly deeply™️ appreciated 💌 thank you all once again for your support!!!! pls enjoy 🦋

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

word count: 37.9k

content/warnings: harry ignoring “bros before hoes” part 45684957, “FUCK FLORIDA!!! ALL MY HOMIES HATE FLORIDA!!!” - xander, fight scene (rap), jefferson x hamilton (friends to lovers), road head ahead?? uhhh yeah, i sure hope so!!!, MUSI 1113: history of classical music, prof. harry styles, sherlock and watson solve the biggest mystery yet, *edward cullen voice* and so the mosquito fell in love with the butterfly

“Are you going to stare at your phone all day, like a bloody tool, or are you actually going to join the conversation?”

Despite the baited question, Harry keeps his gaze on his device as he flicks through his notifications, opening one app after the other in quick repetition before closing the screen. “That depends.  Are you actually going to say something interesting?”

From the other side of his couch, Niall flicks up his middle finger with ease, his expression sour and unimpressed. “We are saying something interesting, you prick.  I want to get out of town next weekend, but no one—” The Irishman shoots a pointed look to Xander, who’s leaning across the kitchen island with an unbothered expression. “—can agree on where to go.”

“It’s not that I can’t agree, Niall. It’s that your ideas are stupid.” Xander shoots back in an exasperated tone, raising his Bloody Mary (with extra blood, hardly any Mary) to his scowling lips. “No one wants to go to fucking Florida.  It’s Florida.  Why the fuck would we go to Florida?”

“Because I’ve been alive for two hundred years—”

Adam clicks his tongue from the lounge seat by the window. “I’m not sure if ‘alive’ is the best description.”

“—and I’ve never been to Disney World!  I died from a fucking famine.  Am I not entitled— nay, am I not owed—” Niall straightens his posture on the couch as he addresses the whole of the room, a determined look set in his icy blue eyes that contrasts the dulled gaze of those watching him. “A warm churro, cold Dole Whip, and a set of over-priced Mickey ears?  Huh?”

“That still doesn’t answer the question of why we’d have to go to Florida to get that!” Xander exclaims, rounding the corner of the kitchen counter with his drink in hand.  He raises the glass to his lips, pausing halfway to point towards the wall of windows that’s currently letting in the midday Sunday sun. “We could drive a half hour to Disneyland, and get you the exact same thing!”

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Niall sucks in a deep breath through clenched teeth, as if he needs to calm himself down before doing something he regrets. “Xander,” He begins in a controlled voice, tight and tense and on the verge of snapping. “I suffered through starvation, fought in a world war, went through the Great Depression, and then fought in another fucking world war!  After all that, why would I settle for Disneyland, when we could easily make it to Disney World and back in three days?”

“You know…” Mitch says slowly, flopping down on the sofa between Niall and Harry, who’s already turned his attention back to his obsessive ritual of checking his notifications. “You can’t keep playing the ‘fought in a war’ card.  Harry fought in World War One, too, and I fought in the Revolutionary War.  And died in the Revolutionary War.  You do realize the majority of our group are veterans, right?”

Niall sighs in exasperation, clutching his beer in his fist to keep it from spilling as the older vampire beside him shifts on the couch. “I don’t play the ‘fought in a war’ card, Mitchell, I play the ‘fought in two wars’ card. And I think that card earns me the right to choose what we do next weekend.”

“And I think you folded those cards the moment you suggested Florida.” Wrinkling his nose, Xander finally enters the living room, and Harry risks a glance up from his phone to eye the dark-tinted liquid that laps at the edge of Xander’s glass with every step. “Why don’t we just go to Disneyland?  Or, better yet, why don’t we take a few extra days and go somewhere exciting?  I hear Greece is lovely this time of year; I wouldn’t mind trying some Mediterrean food for a week.”

“Florida is just as lovely—”

“That’s a lie, Florida is never lovely.”

“And Adam wants to go to Disney World, too!” Niall finishes triumphantly, taking a large swig of his half-empty beer before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “So it’s two-to-one!”

“Two-to-two, actually.” Mitch interjects, pursing his lips at the childish grimace that overtakes Niall’s previously cheery expression. “I’m not too fond of alligators, and last time I heard from Sarah, she was in Italy.  It’d be nice to have a week with her in Greece.”

Niall rolls his eyes at the sudden tie, turning his gaze past his disappointing friend to his other almost-as-disappointing friend, tone growing firmer. “Alright, then, Harry, it’s up to you.  You’re our tie-breaking vote.”

Harry, however, had spent the better part of the last two minutes scrolling through the photos he and Y/N had taken on their date the day before, and doesn’t even glance up from his screen upon registering the utterance of his name. “Hm?  The vote on what?”

The frustrated Irishman lobs his bottle of beer at Harry’s head, his pitch powerful enough that it nearly collides with its target a millisecond later.  And would have collided, if Harry’s hand hadn’t shot up on a supernatural reflex to capture it perfectly within his grasp.

Keeping his eyes locked on his phone, Harry sighs at his friend’s antics. “Watch it, Ni, I don’t want to scrub beer stains out of my couch—”

“I wouldn’t have to resort to throwing bottles at your thick head if you could get it out of your girlfriend’s arse long enough to participate in our discussion!” The blue-eyed vampire shoots daggers at him, and the lightness of his irises shifts to a dark crimson as Harry’s gaze barely flickers to him. “Oh for fuck’s sake—” Bracing himself against Mitch’s lap, Niall launches over the couch and snatches Harry’s phone from his hands, scrambling back to his seat and stuffing it down his jeans pocket before Harry can react. “You’ll get this back after we finish talking, alright?  Now, where do you want to go next weekend?  Disney World or Greece?”

Although the urge to tackle Niall and fight for his phone twinges in Harry’s mind, he forces himself to stay seated, settling for just shooting a glare across the couch.  He’s certain that Mitch wouldn’t be appreciative of him and Niall biting at each other on top of him, just as certain he is of the fact that attacking Niall won’t exactly make him look mentally stable.  

Instead, Harry merely sucks in a deep breath, setting the beer bottle on the coffee table and dragging his jeweled hand through his hair before answering evenly. “First of all, she’s not my girlfriend.  And second of all… neither.  Y/N and I have plans next weekend.”

A collective groan runs through the room the moment the phrase falls from his lips, and Harry swallows down a smirk at the reaction he receives from his friends.  Only Mitch’s face remains free of irritation, and instead sits in a neutral expression that, from his years of friendship, Harry can tell is tinged with concern.

“You have plans with her every weekend.” Xander complains, taking a sip of his Bloody Mary as he sits down next to Adam on the lounge seat, pulling Harry’s attention from the eldest immortal. “How can you sit there and say she’s not your girlfriend when you’ve been ditching us for the last, like, three and a half months to spend time with her?”

That, in all honesty, is a fair question.  Harry knows that he’s been spending more and more time with Y/N in the last few weeks at the expense of his friends, and on some level, he does feel bad about it.  Except that when he actually thinks about it, he doesn’t feel that bad in the slightest. He has no reason to, given that he spends almost every weekday with his friends, so what’s the harm in saving his weekends for someone else?  

In fact, he rather enjoys bracketing off those days just to spend them with her, alone with no one else to bother them, where they can just bask in each other’s company. So no, he really doesn’t feel bad at all.

He has the sudden realization that, on top of having the sweetest, most addicting blood he’s ever had the good fortune of tasting in the last two hundred years, Y/N is just generally fun to be around. Due to this, Harry has unintentionally continued to grow closer and closer to the human girl with every second they spend together.  She’s witty, adventurous, and always down to try something new— both in public and in the bedroom.  And in the bedroom— a smile unknowingly creeps onto Harry’s face as he recalls the dinner he’d taken her to last month, and what they’d done after. 

He also recalls the morning that had followed, in which they had eaten breakfast on his couch together in nothing but their underwear, their bodies tangled against the sofa cushions as Y/N had fed him bites of French toast while he showed her the extensive collection of Polaroid pictures he’d taken the previous night before.  He vividly remembers the way she had squirmed at the images of her with her legs spread open for him, of her bare chest heaving and her back arching, and of the wetness dripping down her thighs and staining the sheets. And he especially remembers the way she’d hid her face away in his neck at the snapshot of his hand wrapped around her throat, as well as the picture of her suckling eagerly at his thumb while his array of rings had glinted under the flash of the camera. 

It had been so cute watching her eyes brim over with shyness, especially because she had been more than happy to shed her inherent timidness the night prior. He’d teased her about it, of course. How could he not? He’d laid there as she rested between his legs, pointing out every welt and bruise prominent on the photos, and then skimming his icy fingers over her actual body to find them. It had been a very intimate moment, given that they were reflecting on more than just the physical aspects of what they’d shared. It feels like their entire dynamic had shifted slightly, all due to the fact that the roughness and aftercare that had occurred between them were actions that required immense amounts of trust and communication. Harry felt closer to her in a way he hadn’t before, and if the softness behind Y/N’s eyes was any indication, she felt the exact same way. 

Their connection felt different now— purer, in a way, now that they’d seen one another in such an exposed fashion, but it still managed to stay within the boundaries Harry was intent on upholding. She’d given him a type of relief he hadn’t realized he’d missed so much, considering he hadn’t indulged in anything of that caliber in years due to certain doubts about his self-control. But somehow, he had managed to keep his supernatural strength and impulses at bay the whole way through, and he’d kept her safe and satisfied, as he promised he would. In return, she’d made him feel more in tune with himself than he had in a while. 

With all of those thoughts filtering through the vampire’s mind during their morning cuddle session, he had ducked down and kissed at the tip of her warm nose, sighing blissfully when she had returned the gesture onto the curve of his chin. Then, he’d begun pinching playfully at her sides, not being able to resist the urge to make her smile. He had burst into laughter when she herself had erupted into spontaneous giggles, thrashing against him while squeaking curses between gasps of his name, pleading with him to cut it out or she’d wind up falling off the sofa. It had been a wholesome pastime, up until he’d ended up sucking maple syrup off her fingers with that signature devious twinkle in his half-lidded eyes, and then she herself had ended up licking that same syrup off his abdomen. That had led to him tonguing it off the swell of her breasts, and then she had wound up lapping at something much more interesting than his stomach.

It’s only natural, though, considering that in the bedroom, Y/N is a refreshingly unstoppable force.  She matches his every push, pull, and thrust with ease, as if she knows his body by heart.  Maybe she does, Harry muses, considering that he undisputedly knows hers from every angle, like the stanzas of his favorite poem. And between all those things, is it really his fault he wants to spend as much time with her as he can?  Keeping her happy and content had worked well to sweeten her blood for him thus far, so why should he change his game plan now, when he’s so clearly in the lead?

Last weekend, for example, he and Y/N had driven the scenic route out to Malibu, where they spent the entire day lounging on beach towels and frolicking in the waves.  He’d enjoyed seeing her with saltwater hair, her soft skin encrusted with sand and warmed by the sun, almost as much as he’d enjoyed fiddling with the strings of her bikini and coating her body in sunscreen, because “protection from UV rays is a top priority, love.  Trust me.”  They’d packed a picnic lunch for themselves that consisted of homemade sandwiches, chips and salsa, and fruit skewers, which Y/N had hand-fed to Harry after she’d convinced him to let her bury him in the sand.  It had been irritating to shower the grit out from some unsavoury places, but worth it to see the smile on her face and hear her infectious giggles as she molded a sizable pair of sandcastle breasts onto his chest.  And doubly worth it after he took her home and fed on her sea-tinged blood.

Yesterday, as well, had been an example of how well Harry is doing with this arrangement the two of them have.  He’d picked her up in the early afternoon and taken her to the Museum of Contemporary Art, where they’d spent the rest of the day wandering the exhibits and debating the artistic merits of each piece.  Of course, their discussions were less educated and more humour based, as Harry tended to list every painting as reminding him of sex, while Y/N said that every sculpture she saw was a comment on capitalism, but it had made them laugh nonetheless.  And while the security guards standing by didn’t seem to think their overheard conversations were amusing— nor how they posed with the paintings, trying to mimic the various expressions depicted in the artwork— Harry could tell that Y/N was entertained. It was obvious in how sugary her blood had been after she’d fallen asleep hours later. And if Harry were a better artist, he would’ve created his own sculpture dedicated to the honey and lavender liquid that he’d become so tied to over these last few months, but it appears his position as a collector is what he was suited for— both for literal artwork and the metaphorical pieces he’d paint on Y/N’s body with his lips. 

It’s with all these events in mind that he turns to Xander casually as the man’s question echoes in his head once more. “How can you say she’s not your girlfriend?”

A clear and concise explanation slips from Harry’s tongue without a second thought. “I can say she’s not my girlfriend because it’s true.” Harry slicks a hand through his tousled curls again out of habit, so used to busying his fingers with fiddling on his phone that he has to find some sort of substitute. “Keeping her satisfied keeps her— and her blood— around.  And, yes, she’s a sweet girl, and a nice break from you lot—” He nods towards Niall specifically with a jerking motion and a raised brow. “But there…” He just barely hesitates before spitting the words out. “There aren’t any actual feelings there.”

“Oh really?” Niall challenges, his own brow kinking as he shifts on the couch, turning his body completely to face Harry at the expense of Mitch’s personal space. “So all those times I’ve heard the two of you shagging— all those times you’ve called her ‘a dream’ or ‘perfect’— there were no feelings in that?”

Xander wolf whistles at the comment as Adam barks out a laugh, and even Mitch allows himself a reserved smirk at the mention of Harry’s bedroom talk.  Harry, on the other hand, straightens his shoulders as a flush works up his spine and onto his cheeks, and instead commands his tone to be as cutting as possible when he forms his reply.

“I don’t think Y/N would be very appreciative to know you’re eavesdropping on us fucking like some type of perverted creep, so you might want to invest in a better pair of plugs before I rip your ears off and solve the problem myself.” Harry threatens lowly, eyes flashing bright red for just a moment before reverting back to their natural emerald hue. “And you can take what I say mid-fuck as a ready-made script, mate, since you have no clue how to sweet-talk a bird into making her cum.”

Niall’s hands reach up to cup his ears protectively due to the other monster’s violent warning, his brows furrowing into a pointed scowl. “Eat shit. It’s not like I have a choice but to listen, given that you two nearly bring the building down while—”

“You know,” Xander chimes in from the lounge seat, his voice taking on an accusatory tone as his eyes narrow at Harry. “I thought a constant supply of blood would mellow you out, but if anything, you’ve grown a bit more irritable.  Does this arrangement have an expiration date?”

“Xander…” Mitch begins, caution written into his quiet voice as his eyes flit from Harry to Xander and back again. “That’s not—”

Harry sharpens his voice into a blade as he slashes over Mitch, jaw growing taut as he spits out his retort. “I know a relationship lasting more than one night is a bit of a foreign concept to you, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but I really don’t think that’s any of your fucking business.”

“So you fuck the same person for a couple of months, and suddenly you’re a relationship expert?” Xander inquires with a humorless huff, his tone just as bitter as his eyes as he glares at Harry from across the room. “As if you haven’t had commitment issues since the nineteenth century?” Raising his drink to his lips, Xander takes a slow and calculated swig as Adam shifts in discomfort next to him, his eyes meeting Mitch’s with a nervous glance. “At least I can call shit what it is, while you just delude yourself for weeks on end, pretending that anything good can come out of your attachment to an insignificant human—”

“If I were you,” Harry says through gritted teeth, his fingers curling over the edge of his couch to hold himself in place. “I’d choose your next words very carefully, Xanny.”

“Or what?  Are you gonna dig into your Fifty Shades chest and spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?  What, are you just upset you never got the full treatment?”

A hot flush crawls up Xander’s neck as his jaw clenches. “I never said I wanted it.”

“The jealousy written all over your face suggests otherwise.” 

“Alright!” Adam’s voice barks, swiftly slicing through the tension in the air, his eyes glowing crimson as he commands everyone’s attention from the two quarrelling vampires back onto himself. “That’s enough.  You’re both being ridiculous. Harry, you can’t be upset with us for trying to understand what you’re doing, mate.  We’re just curious, that’s all.  But Xander—” The youngest vampire’s snickering is cut off when his name is called sternly. “That doesn’t give you the right to ridicule him for it.  Harry knows what he’s doing— he’s a full-grown adult— and he wouldn’t do anything that would put himself, or any of us, into any sort of jeopardy.” With a long sigh, Adam’s gaze slides over the two creatures with a look of parental finality. “Are we good?”

Despite the annoyance still woven around each of Harry’s limbs, he forces himself to nod as he settles back into his couch, inhaling a deep breath through his nose.  Beside him, Mitch nudges the back of his hand against Harry’s arm, as if in encouragement, and the motion reminds him just exactly who it is that he’s talking to.  These are his friends— of course they have concerns about him.  Although they might voice those concerns in unusual ways (like sticking their noses into his intimate life), the meaning behind their words comes from a place of affection.

“Alright.” Adam says again, relief flooding across his face as he turns his attention to the rest of the room. “Now, we still need to decide what we’re doing next weekend.  Personally, I think a three day trip to Disney World would be a lot easier than Greece; I say we save that for next month, so we have more time to plan it and actually make the trip worthwhile.”

Xander, still a little irritated from his confrontation with Harry, huffs in response. “That’s all well and good, Adam, except you forgot that I refuse to step foot in that humid swamp-fest. Makes my face break out and my curls frizz up.”

“Jesus Christ, Xander.” Niall groans from the opposite end of the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose like before, nudging his large squared glasses up as he does so. “Can you just get that stick out of your arse long enough to—”

Whatever Niall is about to suggest Xander do seems to disappear from his mind as the Irishman suddenly cuts off his speech, his ears perking up as Harry’s phone begins to chime from his back pocket.  Although the sound is muffled from both the cushion and Niall’s trousers, the distinguishable opening motive of “Alexander Hamilton” playing can be heard by everyone, and it only takes one loop of Y/N’s signature ringtone for Harry to launch himself over the couch with his arms outstretched.

“Hey!” Mitch exclaims loudly, pressing himself into the cushions as Harry’s body writhes against his lap in his effort to extract the phone from Niall’s pants. “Jesus, watch your fucking feet!  You’re like Gumby!”

Harry, however, is only paying attention to Niall, who is fending off his attempts at snatching the device with one hand while holding the phone over the edge of the couch with the other. “Give it!” He snarls, eyes shading red as he watches an immature simper grow onto Niall’s face, his thumb poising over the answer button. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“Shh!” Niall hisses at him, but his voice is lit with delight as he clicks on the green phone icon and raises the device to his ear, lowering his voice into a relaxed drawl. “Hi there, you’ve reached the Styles residence! Para español, por favor oprima el número uno. This is Niall speaking, what can I help you with today?”

“Oh—” Even through the tiny speaker, Harry’s highly tuned ears have no trouble picking out the gentle cadence of Y/N’s voice. “Hi, Niall!  It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N!” The younger immortal grins at Harry as he dodges his attempt at swiping for the device, setting his palm between Harry’s eyes and shoving him back roughly as he clambers up off the couch. He dashes across the living room to hide behind the lounge seat, sticking out his tongue and wagging it at his very peeved friend. “Lovely to hear your voice, darlin’!  How are you doing on this lovely Sunday afternoon?”

“I’m alright, thanks.” Harry hears her response as he pounces off the sofa, barreling across the room to chase after Niall. The shorter man is stealthy, and manages to duck and weave past Harry without a single issue, escaping under his left arm. He scrambles towards the glass stairs, holding back giggles as his opponent circles around the furniture to go after him, unhinged aggravation written all over his handsome features. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m just delightful.” Niall laughs airily, taking a sharp turn away from the staircase to confuse Harry’s impulses, snatching a throw pillow off the nearest couch and aiming it at the brunette’s head.  Like the beer bottle, Harry catches it easily, throwing it back at Niall’s stomach with a harder hand. Niall avoids it by a hair. “What can I do for you?”

“Uh, I just wanted to talk to Harry— I had a question for him.  But if he’s busy…”

“Yeah, he’s a little indisposed at the moment, I’m afraid.” Niall races into the kitchen, bracing himself against the marble island with that shit-eating grin still on his face, shuffling erratically from side to side to sike out the other creature across from him. “But I’d be happy to take a message from such a gorgeous girl as yourself.”

“Oh, um, that’s very kind of you—”

Harry rounds the corner of the marble island with a growl, snatching his phone from one hand and smacking Niall upside the head with the other. “Bloody prick.” He hisses over the other vampire’s snickers, eyes colder than his touch as he delivers another blow to Niall’s shoulder. “Fucking annoying, is what you are—”

“Niall?  Are you there?”

After heaving an exasperated sigh and sending one more glare to his friend, Harry raises his phone to his ear, doing his best to lighten the irritation in his voice. “Sorry, love. Niall just wants to be a bit of a bother today, it seems.” He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth as he turns away from the Irishman, wrapping his free arm around his middle as he leans his lower back against the island, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. He picks at a loose thread on his copper tartan trousers, voice coming out honeyed and delicate, as it always tends to get when he regards her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He can hear the smile that spreads across Y/N’s face upon hearing from him, and the tone sends a flood of warmth through Harry’s chest. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, sweetheart, never.  I’m always free to talk to you.” Harry sends a cautious glimpse towards the living room, knowing that the four vampires sitting in his living room (Niall had slinked his way back to the couch now that his ridiculous charade had come to a close) are hanging onto his every word. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good, just… I had a question, but if you’re busy—”

“No, not busy at all!  I’ve just been lounging around with the boys all morning. S’nothing serious.” Harry replies a bit too excitedly, straightening the hem of his fitted red and black striped t-shirt, which had gotten mussed during his tussle with Niall. “What d’you need?

Over the phone, he can hear Y/N clear her throat delicately, and a picture of her sitting on her couch in her living room plays across the front of his eyes, her thumb wedged between her lips as she chews on her nail, as she always does when she gets nervous. “Uh, well, I was also just relaxing this morning, and I was playing on my phone, and I kinda came upon this cute little bookstore called Verbatim Books. They have a bunch of really cool used books— and records, too, which I think you’d like— and they have this really neat, like, labyrinth layout—” Harry’s lips twitch as Y/N continues to ramble, “—and I’ve been looking for a replacement copy of Wuthering Heights because I dropped mine in the bathtub, remember?  And I wanted to get a new copy of Romeo and Juliet, as well—”

“Alright, slow down, pet.  Can barely understand you when you’re going a mile a minute.” Harry chuckles boyishly, absentmindedly carding a jeweled hand through the soft curls along the nape of his neck.  Just the sound of Y/N’s innocent dialect ringing in his ear manages to somehow soothe his entire body. “You want to go to this bookstore, is that it?  Because we can.” He flicks his eyes back over to his friends, who are already rolling their own in response. “Just give me an hour or two to finish up with the guys, and I’ll come pick you up—”

“Well, the thing is…” He pictures Y/N chewing on her thumb some more, timid uncertainty pouring into her usually clear irises. “Verbatim Books is in San Diego.”

“San Diego.” Harry repeats back to her, his free hand settling against the cold marble of the island behind him as he quirks an eyebrow in mild shock. “As in the San Diego that’s a two hour drive away?  That San Diego?”

Y/N’s anxious laugh tinkles through the receiver. “Yeah, that San Diego.  But if you have plans with your friends, I completely understand.  We can go a different day.”

Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth wearingly, Harry glances at the digital clock blinking above his stovetop, reflecting back the time 12:53 P.M. “When do they close?”

“Five, I think?”

The vampire calculates the route to San Diego in his head, his sculpted brows creasing as the time frame appears in his mind. “If we left now, we’d probably get there between three and three-thirty.  Would an hour and a half be enough time for you to explore and find what you need?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are unbelievable,” Xander mutters from across the condo, but Harry pays him no attention other than raising a blue-lacquered middle finger to flip him off. 

“I mean, yeah, I think so, but—”

“Alright, darling, then just give me a few minutes to grab my things and kick everyone out.” Harry says firmly, pushing himself away from the counter to begin searching for his car keys. 

“No, Harry, it’s not so important that we have to go today, and I don’t want you to kick your friends out.  In fact…” Y/N’s voice becomes thoughtful as a new idea pops into her head, and she hesitates for a moment before suggesting it on the grounds of not wanting to come off as pushy. But in the end, her curiosity bests her. “Why don’t we save Verbatim for another day, and I could just come over and hang out with you and your friends?  I bought all the ingredients for this really yummy guacamole recipe I saw on Tasty the other day— we could do, like, an impromptu movie night or something.  I’ve been craving one of your margaritas all week.”

“Yeah, Harry!” Niall chimes in as Harry re-enters the living room, obviously ignoring his friend’s earlier threat against eavesdropping. “I could go for some guac and a marg— not blended, though. Tastes like shit that way.”

Harry stares at him in disgust as he snatches his keys from the coffee table. “You’re a fucking twat.” 

“What?”

“Oh— not you, babe!” Harry hurries to reassure her as Niall cackles in taunting satisfaction. “Sorry, I was talking to Niall.  No, it’s… it’s alright.  You want to go to this bookstore, and the boys were on their way out anyways—”

“Were you on your way out?” Adam asks Xander sarcastically, and Xander raises his half-full Bloody Mary as a negative response, making a mockingly sour face in return. “Okay, I thought so.  Neither was I.”

“—so it’s all fine.  I’ll leave in a few minutes, yeah?  Probably be at your place within fifteen?” Harry checks the time on his Rolex as he estimates his arrival. “Does that sound good?”

“I— sure.  Yeah, that works.” Y/N says slowly, her voice a little softer than it was a moment before. “I’ll see you when you get here, then.”

“Alright, doll.  See you soon.” Harry hangs up his phone with a tap of his finger, sliding the device into his back pocket as he turns to face his friends. “So that was Y/N—”

“Oh, really? I had no clue!” Xander deadpans, rising from the lounge seat and setting his condensation-covered glass on the coffee table, deliberately avoiding the coaster Harry always insists should be used. “See you later, Harry.”

Adam matches the motion, a smirk jolting across his scruffy cheeks as he stands from his seat and claps Harry over the shoulder as he passes by. “Have a nice drive, man.  We’ll do a movie night with Y/N another time.”

The promise plants a seed of unease inside Harry’s stomach, but he doesn’t allow it to show on his face, choosing to smile easily at Adam’s innocent comment instead. “Yeah.  Another time.”

“Yeah, have a nice drive, H.” Niall mutters as he passes him, his face set in a petty surrendered frown. “A nice, long drive.  Preferably off a very short cliff.”

“I would, Ni, but you’d miss me too much.” Harry grins at him jokingly, bumping the vampire’s shoulder with his own until his irritated expression softens into a slightly less irritated smile. 

It’s Mitch, however, who makes Harry pause the most as he goes to leave. He halts in the doorway of Harry’s flat with a somber look in his eyes, appraising his younger friend with a curious gaze, which settles into trepidation as he sighs reluctantly. “You okay, H?” He prods gently, the question heavy as it falls from his mouth.

While Adam’s words were lighthearted and Mitch’s are anything but, they still leave the same feeling of uncertainty curling through Harry’s belly.  And, like Adam’s words, Harry plasters the same reassuring smile across his features, doing his best to dampen his best friend’s concern. “‘M peachy keen, Mitchell.  Don’t need to worry about me.”

“Are you sure?”

Harry only hesitates for a split second before urging himself to respond. “AB positive.” 

///

If Y/N doesn’t say something to him, Harry is going to go absolutely insane.

It’s not that they haven’t had silence fall between them before, because they have.  They’ve had comfortable silences as they lay in bed at night, Y/N wrapped within Harry’s inked arms as her breaths align with his.  They’ve had quiet lapses in conversation during their usual breakfasts as they watch reruns of Y/N’s favorite crime show, or as they’ve wandered up and down the Santa Monica pier, or walked to and from casual dinners on warmer nights. Despite the lack of words flowing between them, Harry would always know what Y/N was thinking as he slipped his light denim jacket over her bare shoulders, capturing her hand within his own once more as he pulled her to the inside of the sidewalk so he could walk closer to the traffic.  Silence is nothing new to them, and has even been the host of some of Harry’s favourite moments between the two, given that being able to hold a comfortable pause with someone is such a beautifully rare occurrence. Silence has typically been his friend.

But the silences that linger in their past have never felt quite like this.

From the moment Harry pulled out of Y/N’s apartment building parking lot and into the busy traffic of L.A., the mortal girl had grown quiet, and seemingly immune to Harry’s inquiries about how her day had been since he’d dropped her off at her apartment the night before.  Although she first answered him with short snippets— no more than a few words long— by the time he’d peeled them out of the hustle and bustle of the city and onto the highway towards San Diego, even those answers had come to a faltering halt.  Instead, Y/N had propped her chin up on her hand, rested her elbow on the ledge of the car door, and turned her pensive gaze at the scenery whizzing by the window, which she watched with a contemplative crease between her brows.

And the infuriating thing is that he’d asked if something was bothering Y/N the moment she’d begun to clam up, and his question had only received a small jerk of her head and a barely audible, “No, H.  I’m fine.” No gentle caress of Harry’s hand against her leg or soft squeeze of her palm had granted Harry any more clarity on the subject.  

She’s allowed to have secrets, of course. Everyone does.  Harry himself certainly has his own fair share locked away in his chest, free from prying eyes and curious minds.  But the thing is, she hasn’t held any from him.  Any question Harry’s asked, she’s always provided an open and honest answer, even if there’s been a beat of hesitation before the words fall from her pretty lips.  But her answer today, of being fine, is so clearly the opposite of that, and her insistence on hiding it means that she doesn’t want Harry to know that she’s upset.  Which means— Harry’s hands tighten around the steering wheel as he rounds the curve of the road— that Harry’s part of the reason she’s upset.  He’s not sure how, or why, or what he’s done, but he’s done something.  Otherwise, Y/N wouldn’t be refusing to give him even a fraction of the warmth she’s usually so willing to gift him. 

Another sigh heaves from Harry’s chest as he lets one hand fall from the leather wheel onto his thigh, tracing the pattern of his plaid trousers absently.  He wants to ask again, just to see if her stubbornness has dwindled by the slightest degree.  And it easily could dwindle with just a breath of suggestion from Harry, but he refuses to do that, no matter how badly he may want to.  If Y/N is really mad at him for something, how can he convince her that she should forgive him if he’s using supernatural powers to make her admit what’s wrong.  Even more, how can he convince himself that he’s justified in earning her forgiveness?

Harry casts another concerned glance at Y/N before shifting in his seat to extract his phone from his trouser pocket.  With a quick swipe of his thumb, he unlocks it with ease, his eyes flicking from the road to the phone and back again as he opens Spotify. 

“You’re not supposed to text and drive, y’know.”

The sweet cadence of Y/N’s voice, despite its quiet tone, uplifts the corner of Harry’s lips and mills a gentle chuckle in his chest. “I’m not texting.  And I’m an excellent driver, sweetheart.” He glimpses at her from the corner of his eye before returning to his search through his playlists. “Got good reflexes.”

The human girl gives a hum of acknowledgement rather than another retort to his comment, and Harry’s newborn grin quickly melts into a frown as Y/N’s attention returns to the window.  Harry finds comfort in another sigh as he selects an album from his library, clicking the shuffle icon in the corner and tucking his phone back in his pocket. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Music begins to roll out from the speakers that Harry installed in his car the year before, producing a hip-hop beat and the voice of Christopher Jackson as George Washington. “You could’ve been anywhere in the world tonight, but you’re here with us in New York City.  Are you ready for a cabinet meeting?”

Harry taps his fingers to the beat against the steering wheel as he steals a sly peek at Y/N.  Although she hasn’t turned to him again, he can see her eyebrows pricking up with curiosity as to what Harry’s doing. That’s all the encouragement Harry needs.

“The issue on the table: Secretary Hamilton’s plan to assume state debt and establish a national bank.  Secretary Jefferson, you have the floor, sir.”

The vampire bites back a triumphant smirk as he turns his gaze back towards the road, feigning a lack of interest in Y/N’s response as he begins to rap along to the Hamilton score. “‘Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’.  We fought for these ideals; we shouldn’t settle for less.  These are wise words, enterprising men quote ‘em,” He cocks his head to the side, allowing his grin to fully light up his face as he captures Y/N’s attention within his. “Don’t act surprised, you guys, ‘cause I wrote ‘em. OWWW!”

Although Y/N’s expression stays neutral, he can see a twitch in her cheek at his loud exclamation, and Harry begins to exaggerate his actions even more as he gestures towards her with twinkling emerald eyes. “But Hamilton forgets!  His plan would have the government assume state’s debts.  Now, place your bets as to who that benefits.” Harry taps his chin symbolically, feigning thought, and then points towards Y/N with dramatized realization. “The very seat of government where Hamilton sits.”

Keeping her own eyes locked on the road ahead of them, Y/N gives a quick yet defiant shake of her head, the corner of her lip raised just a fraction more than it was a moment before. “Not true!”

“Ooh, if the shoe fits, wear it.” Harry’s simper continues to grow with the warming attitude Y/N’s beginning to display, and he shakes his head in return and raises his free hand in a questioning manner as he continues to rap along. “If New York’s in debt, why should Virginia bear it?  Uh, our debts are paid, I’m afraid.” He lifts his fingers into his curls, running them through his roots and pretending to fluff the ends poshly for a haughty effect. “Don’t tax the South ‘cause we got it made in the shade.” Tapping a jeweled finger against the dashboard, Harry emphasizes the beats of his next line. “In Virginia, we plant seeds in the ground.  We create; you just wanna move our money around.  This financial plan is an outrageous demand, and it’s too many pages for any man to understand!” He pretends to flip the endless pages of an imaginary novel, and then snaps his wrist dismissively with a cocky smirk, deftly guiding the car around the curve of the road with his other hand. 

“Stand with me in the land of the free, and pray to God we never see Hamilton’s candidacy.  Look, when Britain taxed our tea, we got frisky—” Harry rolls his chest to the rhythm of the song, his dimples deepening in his cheeks as he reaches over towards Y/N and pinches at her side playfully, warmth erupting across his veins when she squeals in surprise. “Imagine what gon’ happen when you try to tax our whiskeyyyy.”

“Thank you, Secretary Jefferson.” Washington says through the speaker as Y/N smacks his hand away and purses her lips, appraising Harry with a raised brow. “Secretary Hamilton, your response.”

For a moment, Harry waits with bated breath, thinking that Y/N won’t rise to his challenge.  She’s too angry with him, for some reason he can’t fathom, and when she opens her mouth, he assumes she’s just going to tell him off for—

“Thomas, that was a real nice declaration.  Welcome to the present, we’re running a real nation.  Would you like to join us?  Or stay mellow doin’ whatever the hell it is you do in Monticello?” Y/N rolls with the music just as Harry had, his rainbow cardigan slipping from her shoulder as she gestures towards him with ridicule. “If we assume the debts the union gets a new line of credit, a financial diuretic.” She lists off each subject on her fingers, making a sour face at Harry. “How do you not get it?  If we’re aggressive and competitive, the union gets a boost—” She slaps her hand down against her thigh passionately, as if his side of the imaginary argument appalls her. “You’d rather give it a sedative?”

Harry barks out a laugh as Y/N’s expression grows more incredulous, mocking him in character as if they were really on a Broadway stage, and not his ‘67 Cadillac driving down a highway in California. 

“A civics lesson from a slaver.” She snorts, reaching across the seat and tapping her knuckles against Harry’s head with a light touch. “Hey neighbour, your debts are paid ‘cause you don’t pay for labour.” She mimics his voice, right down to the slight British tinge that had made it into his Virginian twang, throwing up her hands and shaking them in an overexaggerated motion as she quotes him. “‘We plant seeds in the South.  We create’— Yeah, keep ranting.  We know who’s really doing the planting.” 

One of Harry’s hands shoots up towards his mouth and forms a fist, which he presses against his lips in fake astonishment at her dig, joining the background vocalists in howling. “Ooooh!”

The mortal gestures towards him with renewed fervor in her eyes that barely hides the amusement lingering in her irises. “And that’s another thing, Mr. Age of Enlightenment.  Don’t lecture me about the war; you didn’t fight in it!”

Harry bites back the jesting retort of “No, but Mitch did.” that nearly rolls from his tongue.

The minimal restraint goes unnoticed by Y/N, who continues her scathing attack on Harry’s alter ego as she points over her shoulder with her thumb. “You think I’m frightened of you, man?  We almost died in the trench,” She pinches together her index finger and thumb and brings them to her mouth, and the ease at which the mimicry of a joint comes to her makes Harry wonder if she’s ever actually smoked one. “While you were off getting high with the French!  Thomas Jefferson, always hesitant with the President.  Reticent— there isn’t a plan he doesn’t jettison.  Madison, you’re mad as a hatter, son, take your medicine.  Damn, you’re in worse shape than the national debt is in!” Gesturing theatrically, Y/N lowers her voice, keeping her intensity as she points to Harry. “Sitting there useless as two shits.  Hey, turn around,” she makes a small twirling motion in the air with her forefinger, and then juts two digits upwards as if to stuff them somewhere, “bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits!”

Harry bursts into laughter with reckless abandon, wrapping his free hand around his stomach as he bends over the steering wheel.  Reaching towards the stereo dials, he turns down the volume, letting the rest of the track fade to background noise before turning his gaze back to Y/N. 

Just like him, the mortal girl is bent over with fits of  belly laughter, and the sound echoes around the Cadillac in the sweetest way.  Harry would take that over the Grammy-winning soundtrack any day. 

“That was good, love.  You’re a proper Broadway starlette, aren’t you?” Harry says between giggles, rubbing at his dimpled cheeks before settling his hands back on the steering wheel. “Didn’t realize you’d been holding out on me so much.”

“I wouldn’t call that holding out.” The mortal girl counters, fixing the slouching shoulder of Harry’s cardigan as she rests back into the passenger seat with a satisfied air. “You’ve heard me sing all the parts to ‘Non-Stop’ at once.”

“Well, yes, but…” Poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, Harry shoots a cheeky grin at Y/N as he drums his fingers against the leather wheel. “This time you were actually good.”

An indignant scoff falls from Y/N’s mouth as she reaches across the car and smacks his arm.  Harry can sense that she puts a lot of her force behind it, but the action feels as forceful as a fly landing on his shoulder, and he fakes a jostling of his body as he pouts. “You can’t hit the driver!”

“Then don’t insult my Broadway-worthy performances!” She remarks, crossing her rainbow-clad arms over her chest with a defiant air. “I think I’m quite talented— ready to take over the role of Hamilton himself, even.”

The creature rubs over his arm in an attempt to feign soreness, but the simper that’s still dimpled across his face gives him away. “I’m not sure if I’d go that far, peach.  I think I’d give you a chorus role, at best.” He snickers as Y/N’s mouth drops down into a disgruntled frown. “If anyone would be playing Alexander Hamilton, it would be me.”

“Uh, I don’t fucking think so.” She shakes her head adamantly, her brows drawing together in petty disbelief. “They wouldn’t cast a fucking Red Coat in an American Revolution play.”

Harry wedges his plump lip between his teeth at the tauntingly insulting nickname as his mind flickers to Mitch once more.  He’d be amused, Harry thinks, at how this girl seems to so easily mimic the attitude of those who have known Harry for decades. 

“I can do a flawless American accent, love.” Harry’s emphasis on the consonants in his response only highlights his native tone of voice. “But that’s not why I’d be picked to be Hamilton over you. It’s because I just fit the role of the main character better.”

Y/N sputters in her seat for a moment, jaw dropping open at the assured statement. “Are you kidding?” She demands, pressing her palms flat on her thighs as she narrows her eyes. “Like, are you actually fucking kidding?”

“Not one bit.” With his voice dropped to a serious tone, Harry keeps his eyes locked on the road as he replies.

“That is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.  I can’t believe you really—” Y/N sucks in a deep breath through her nose, as if she needs to calm and center herself in order to form a coherent answer, and her playful eyes slowly drift shut. “I grew up in a small town, dated the same guy for five years, was left behind while he went to university, where he then cheated on me, and then I moved from the town I’d never left before all the way across the country to Los Angeles, California.” Opening her eyes once more, Y/N turns her determined gaze back to Harry, collapsing her hands in front of her for emphasis. “I literally followed the ‘smalltown girl moves to big city’ trope.  There are dozens of LifeTime movies that follow the exact same plot.  If that doesn’t say ‘main character,’ I don’t know what does.”

“Mm, I’ll tell you what does.” Harry counters, wagging a ringed finger at the human girl while keeping the rest wrapped securely around the steering wheel. “‘Following the life of a handsome, rich British bachelor with a mysterious past, a great fashion sense, and who happens to be very well endowed.’”

“Oh, please. That says ‘one of two love interests from a Hallmark Christmas movie,’ at best.”

The vampire gasps with faux offense, clutching a hand to his dormant chest as he flickers his eyes to the scoffing girl. “A love interest?  You think that’s all I’m entitled to?” He asks, brow furrowed as he clicks his tongue. “Did you miss the part where I said I had a mysterious past and a huge dick?  Girls would foam at the mouth for me.”

“No, believe me, I know all about those two things.” Y/N snorts, brushing back a loose strand from her eyes before she rolls them. “Unfortunately for you, those are all key characteristics of a protagonist’s love interest.”

A smug smirk overtakes Harry’s face as he flicks on his turn signal, glancing over his shoulder before passing a car that has been going a bit too slow for his liking. “Huh.  Well, I suppose as long as you know that I have those key characteristics— particularly that last one— then I guess I’ll settle. S’the most important of them all, I think.”

He expects his joke to receive a rolling laugh from the human girl, or a noise of acknowledgement at the very least, but all that echoes from her is an empty hum from the back of her throat.  When Harry glimpses her way again, he finds that she’s resumed her previous expression of quiet contemplation, brow creased in thought as she chews on her bottom lip. Concern begins to weigh heavy in Harry’s chest once more.

“Speaking of mysteries, though…” She fiddles with her fingers, twisting one of her rings around a digit the same way Harry does when he’s anxious, and if he were in a better frame of mind, he might take pleasure in the fact that she’s picked up one of his mannerisms. “There is something I’ve been wondering.  About you, I mean.”

From her closed off body language and sudden shift in mood, Harry knows that this has something to do with the guarded and upset expression she’d had when he’d first picked her up.  And, from her lead in, he knows that his assumptions were right: her unsettled demeanor has something to do with him.  Although the possibilities leave a feeling of unease in the pit of his belly, Harry’s curiosity and his need to satiate her wariness wins out, and he forces himself to nod and ask, “What is it, dove?”

Y/N opens her mouth, but no question falls out.  From the corner of his eye, Harry watches as she closes her mouth again, as if she’s decided against asking whatever it is that she wants to. Harry is just about to encourage her to make her inquiry when a surge of confidence suddenly overtakes her body, and she’s spitting it out in a quick and confused voice.

“Why haven’t you introduced me to your friends?”

Out of all the causes for her guarded demeanor, the topic of his friends had been the farthest from his mind.  The question catches Harry so off guard that he, for what feels like the first time, doesn’t have a quick response already formed on the tip of his tongue.  Instead, his own mouth falls open in surprise, and he casts a quick look at the girl from the edge of his emerald eyes before turning back to the road in front of him.

He knows the answer to her question, of course; it’s the same answer that he’s given to his friends every time they’ve asked him to invite Y/N to a bar trivia night, or a weekend barbecue, or a club outing.  And, truthfully, it’s a question that’s been floating more at the forefront of his mind for the last few weeks as he and Y/N have continued to spend time together, gradually becoming a constant in each other’s lives. However, he didn’t expect it to be at the forefront of her own, as well.  

And the answer, really, is quite simple: if Y/N were to spend time with Harry’s gang of friends, there would be a larger possibility of her realizing that there’s something off about all of them.  Like how they all have a specific jeweled accessory that they’re never without, or how none of them seem to ever grow weary, or how they all have the same cold skin and slight shadows around their eyes.  Surely her keen eyes would catch how, despite the copious amount of shots and number of pints they throw back, none of them seem to become inebriated as easily as normal people would, and they can walk out of a club with their heads held high, free of stumbling or exhaustion.  It’s with careful planning and—truthfully— sheer luck that Harry’s managed to present himself with a halfway-human appearance, and he has no doubt that it would be ten times harder to keep up that charade when the chances of her discovering what he is quintuple.

“Uh…” His brow furrows while searching for a valid response to give to the mortal beside him— one that would avoiding hurting her feelings, while still sounding believable. “I-I dunno, really.  I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

The quiet “oh,” that slips from Y/N’s downturned lips alerts Harry that, no matter what response she was expecting, that wasn’t the right one.  She tightens her cardigan-clad arms around her middle as she nods tightly, keeping her gaze fixed pointedly on the passenger window.

Harry rubs his bottom lip with his ringed index finger— another nervous tic of his— as he tries to remedy the tension that’s been brewing between them since she first stepped into the car. “I mean… this whole thing—” He gestures between the two of them, and although the urge to take her hand makes his fingers twitch, he returns his grasp to the steering wheel instead of allowing himself to try and extract her palm from the fabric it’s hidden beneath. “— has been between just the two of us, so I didn’t really think… it mattered.” He finishes lamely, knowing that his justification is just making things worse. “Does it need—?  I mean, did you want—?”

“Well, it’s just…” Y/N lifts and lowers her shoulder in one quick motion, the cardigan once again sliding down to reveal the strap of her tank top underneath and a path of smooth skin that Harry yearns to touch. “It’s kind of like a— I don’t know, a marker?  Like if something is going… well…” She spares him a quick glance before returning her gaze to the passing scenery. “You tell your friends.  I’ve, um, I’ve told mine about you— like, my friends back home, over the phone— and if they weren’t so far away, I know they’d want to meet you, so I guess I—”

“You’ve told your friends about me?” Harry cuts over her, the shock laden in his voice raising it from its usual low drawl. “What did you tell them?  What did they say?”

An anxious flush begins to creep up Y/N’s neck and onto her cheeks, and Harry suspects that it’s not from the warm wool of the cardigan. “I did, yeah.  A couple weeks ago.  They called and asked how I was doing, if I had made any interesting friends yet.  And, well— I’ve pretty much only got you right now, so I kind of had to say something.” She lets out a weak laugh, more air than anything substantial. “I just said that we, um, we were seeing each other, kind of.  Like, mostly we’re friends, and we hang out, and—”

“We do more than hang out.” A grimace tugs at Harry’s own lips at her simplified explanation of their complicated relationship, and he risks an elongated look at the girl beside him, trying desperately to read her expression with no success. 

“I know that, but— like, we’re not dating, right?  It’s not… that was the best explanation I could give.  I don’t think there’s a proper label for what we are— not that we need one.” Although Y/N’s laugh holds more substance this time, Harry can still detect an undercurrent of tension in the sound. “Either way, they said they wished they could meet you, so I was just wondering— your friends know about me, obviously.  We’ve met a few times quickly, but we’ve never, like, had a proper introduction, you know?  I met Xander and Niall in the hallway, and Mitch briefly when we were having a movie night at your place… you talk about Adam a lot, too, and I’ve never even seen him in person.” Turning her head towards Harry with slow hesitation, Y/N worries her bottom lip between her teeth, her expression so frighteningly open that it makes Harry’s stomach turn. “Do they not… do they not want to meet me?”

Despite the quiet and cautious cadence of Y/N’s voice, and the way it twists around Harry’s unbeating heart like a vice, the question draws a soft laugh from the vampire.  Shaking his head adamantly, Harry rakes a hand through his curls before it goes to tap against the steering wheel decisively. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it.  They’re actually quite eager to meet you. As of late, I haven’t been able get through five minutes without Niall asking about you.  He pries like a gossipy nan and s’been getting on my nerves, honestly.”

Relief spreads through Harry as the admission brings a gentle upturn to the corners of Y/N’s soft lips, but it’s short-lived as another thought pops into her mind, and her cautious tone returns at the realization that—

“So you don’t want to introduce me to them, then.” She states quietly, a clear degree of hurt present in both her tone and her eyes as she twists her body beneath her seatbelt to face him head on.  As certain as she is in her assumption, the cautious shadow that sweeps over Harry’s face serves as confirmation of her statement, and it creates a hollow pit in her belly that grows with each passing moment.

Y/N is aware that their relationship— or whatever it is, because they still haven’t put a title on it, and that’s a whole other complication that she can’t dive into right now— is about as far from normal dating as they can get.  She’d fucked Harry before she knew his last name, he’d told her to take him deeper before he’d even told her where he was from, and he’d asked her on a date two months after they’d met, mostly out of territorial jealousy; everything that they’ve done has been out of the traditional order.  But still, she thinks, picking at her nails as the strain between them becomes palpable in the worst way, there are certain things that you do when you’re interested in someone.  Certain milestones that indicate that a relationship is viable and can be sustained for an extended period of time.  Meeting someone’s friends usually comes around the two month mark, and by Y/N’s calculations, that means they’re nearly two months overdue.

Which is fine, Y/N tells herself, dropping her gaze from Harry’s stormy sea glass eyes as she chastises the self-pity coursing through her veins.  Everything about their relationship has been done out of order; why should meeting Harry’s friends be any different?

Except it is.  As much as she hates it, it just is, because it’s not even that she hasn’t met them.  It’s that Harry, with his guilt-ridden eyes and darkened demeanor, clearly doesn’t want her to.

“Y/N,” His gentle utterance of her name draws her from her thoughts more than his hand crawling across the leather seat does.  It’s not until his cool fingers weave through hers that her fidgeting stops, and she even notices that he’s moved. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them, I just—”

“It’s fine, Harry.” She insists softly, despite the tightness in her statement making it obvious that it’s very much not fine.  She pastes a thin smile onto her lips as she shakes her head, trying to appease him as best she can. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Harry squirms in the driver’s seat, tightening his hand around the steering wheel as he heaves a sigh through his nose.  Y/N might be saying that, but the look in her eyes tells a different story.  Does she really think that she can look at Harry with such a wide, wounded expression, and he won’t bend over backwards to make things right?  The thought, although scathing, rings true in Harry’s mind as he worries his cheek between his teeth.  Does she not know the lengths he’s willing to go to just to make her feel better?  For fuck’s sake, he’s making a four hour round trip just to take her to a bookstore in San fucking Diego.  Somehow, without Harry noticing it, this human has managed to influence him in ways he couldn’t possibly imagine anyone ever would again.  Is he supposed to believe that she’s unaware of that?

Shaking his head tersely at her previous reply, Harry squeezes her fingers in his own, clearing the newly formed lump from his throat. “Yes, I do.” He says firmly, looking at the girl from the corner of his eye. “I can tell where your mind is going, love, and I promise you, it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Oh, yeah?” Despite the hurt still splashed across her irises, there’s an echo of a challenge in her tone. “So you just hide all of your… hook-ups from your friends, then?”

“You know I don’t have hook-ups, Y/N.  There’s no one else, there’s just— there’s you.  I only have you.” Harry makes his words as plain as can be, without any joke or teasing to downplay the sincerity of what he’s saying— or attempting to say, because his throat feels so tight that he can barely choke out a single syllable. “And that’s why I haven’t introduced you yet.  I… I like what we have.  This—” He raises their clasped hands, bringing the back of her knuckles to his lips so he can plant a chaste kiss over her soft skin. “I like it.  We’ve spent these last few months in a bubble, just you and me, and it’s been…” A smile tugs at the corner of Harry’s lips, nervous and shy, but tinged with hope. “S’been amazing.  And I’m just… not ready to give that up yet. I…I don’t know how to word it, really.  I’m not good with, um—” With emotions, he thinks to himself. He’s not good with expressing any of this, but he forces himself to try. “It just feels like what we have is something I want to keep private, because it’s special. It’s kind of like when you were a kid and you got a new toy, yeah? And you didn’t want anyone to touch it because you liked it so much, you wanted to keep it all to yourself. It was something so personal, you didn’t want to share it…” 

Harry trails off to look over at Y/N anxiously, and then comes to a sudden realization of the unintentional mistake he’d made by using such a materialistic analogy. His voice comes out rushed and apologetic. “And I’m not saying you’re an object or anything! I just wanted to explain it better and that’s the first thing that popped into my head. Did that...make sense? It probably sounded a bit dense. Or very dense. I’m sorry.” Harry knows he’s babbling aimlessly now, and with a surrendered sigh, he lowers their hands to the seat, still keeping Y/N’s fingers locked tightly with his. “I don’t want to share you, petal.  That’s what it comes down to, really— just me being selfish.  I like having your attention all to myself.”

Y/N listens attentively to Harry’s explanation as a new wave of blood boils to her cheeks, warming every inch of her body.  As much as she still has her doubts— about his reasoning, about their whole arrangement— she wants to believe him.  She wants to believe him more than anything in the world.  

So do it, she tells herself, grazing her lip between her teeth as her gaze remains glued on Harry’s (ridiculously attractive) side profile.  Believe him.  He’s never given you reason not to.

“Okay.” She finds herself saying, and she decides that it’s her turn to raise Harry’s knuckles to her lips for a kiss.  His skin is cool against her mouth, as always, and she lingers against him before lowering their intertwined hands to her lap. “I get it.  I like what we have, too; I don’t want it to change.  Plus,” She can’t resist tacking on a dig, glancing at Harry with a sly look. “From the brief interactions we’ve had, I think Niall and I are pretty compatible, so I don’t blame you for wanting to keep us apart.”

Although Harry barks out a laugh, he barely manages to hide the flash of crimson that streaks through his eyes at the suggestion. “Please,” He shakes his head as he strokes his thumb over the back of Y/N’s knuckles in a possessive manner. “I’m not worried about Niall.  If I was going to be concerned about you leaving me for any of my friends, it would be Adam.” Y/N shoots him a curious look, and his dimples pop out of his cheeks as he elaborates. “Good sense of humour, attractive, and arguably the most sane out of all of us, present company included.  But he can’t perform in bed like I can, so I think that’s a solid deterring factor.  And I doubt he’d drop everything to drive you to a bookstore you found out about through— where did you say you heard about this place again?”

“Uh,” Y/N drops her gaze from Harry, turning her head straight back to the road as she shifts in her seat. “I, um, I saw it on TikTok.”

The vampire snorts obnoxiously, pulling his hand from Y/N’s to rake his fingers through his rouge curls. “Jesus Christ, of course you did.”

Y/N matches his scoffing with ease, crossing her arms over her chest with a defensive air. “Don’t give me that tone!  This is exactly why I didn’t tell you! You know, you can actually find a lot of valuable information on there—”

“Yeah, because filming yourself doing the Renegade is a really great use of your time.”

“I didn’t say— wait—” The mortal girl quirks an eyebrow as she regards him with disbelieving eyes. “How do you know about the Renegade?”

“There’s a reason we blocked the app from Niall’s phone.”

///

Much to Harry’s relief, the drive back to Los Angeles begins a lot smoother than the drive to San Diego had.  

The bookshop had been extremely similar to the antique store they’d been to a while back— it had the same rustic, messy aesthetic that gives a cozy, homey vibe, and it had sprouted a seed of nostalgia in Harry’s chest. They’d wandered around for a bit with their fingers intertwined, rarely breaking away from each other for too long for the sake of maintaining their buddy system. The pair had filtered through the extensive array of titles and knickknacks, walking under archways built out of novels and winding through tall shelves full of vintage collectibles. Y/N had entertained herself with grazing over the spines of all the different books they’d passed, her eyes glazed with a form of childlike wonder he’d grown so fond of seeing. And while Y/N had been losing herself in all the old treasures the shop had to offer, Harry had found himself losing his thoughts to her dreamy smile instead. 

Satisfied with her purchases of Wuthering Heights and Romeo and Juliet, as well as a used copy of Jane Eyre (“Look, Harry, it has little notes in it from the previous owner!  Isn’t that neat?”), Y/N had settled into the passenger seat with ease, a light smile on her face as she buckled her seatbelt.  Harry’s own mood is considerably brighter than it had been on the previous drive, but his shift in energy had only partially been caused by his purchase of a new Simon and Garfunkel album.  Truthfully, Harry thinks, as he watches Y/N thumb through her new second-hand annotated book (the irony of her affinity for literature written from Harry’s original time period is not lost to him), his attitude is merely a mirror of the girl next to him.  It’s much more difficult to be in a good mood when she’s in a sour one, but on the flip side, it’s nearly impossible to be grumpy when she’s showing such a sunny disposition.

Her inquiries from their drive to the bookstore are worrying him, of course.  He knows that he’ll have to introduce her to his friends eventually, especially if he wants to keep this agreement between the two of them up.  He also knows that it’ll be ten times harder to do so with Niall running his mouth, Xander making sly digs, and Mitch and Adam watching him with parental-like concern.  Perhaps it would be easier to just call this all off right now, before things continue to progress.  It would certainly be better for Y/N, he’s sure of it.  Y/N, who gets excited over annotations in her books.  Y/N, who sings along off-key to the radio even when she doesn’t know all the words.  Y/N, who innocently presses tender kisses to his throat in a manner that draws an obsolete warmth from every limb of his undead body, and who smiles at his stupid inappropriate jokes and returns them with her own, and who fits into his arms like she was made for the sole purpose of filling them perfectly.

Y/N, who is reaching between the two of them, intertwining their fingers together with a practiced motion, and—

“Thank you for taking me to the bookstore.” The human girl murmurs, her lips grazing the back of Harry’s knuckles as she speaks. “I really do appreciate it, although I’m sorry I pulled you away from your friends.”

Harry’s woes melt away as she pecks across his icy skin, and a grin begins to jolt his lips as he brings her hand to his own mouth. “Don’t be sorry.” He smears a kiss to the back before dropping their tangled palms to the seat between them, his thumb caressing over her velvety flesh. “You’re much better company than the four of them.  And much prettier.”

“You’re such a flirt.” Y/N rolls her eyes at the comment, but leans further towards Harry in her seat. “And a liar.  We both know that Mitch is prettier.”

“Mitch?” Harry’s emerald eyes widen in appalled surprise, the corner of his lips twitching once more in amusement. “Out of all of my friends, you think Mitch is the prettiest?  What about Xander?  He’s quite the vain one, don’t you think?”

Y/N shrugs one shoulder in a light manner. “I like Mitch’s hair.  The long style works for him.”

“Ah, it’s the hair.  That makes sense; it’s always the hair.” Nodding sagely, Harry allows his lips to pull into a full grin. “So you like it long, hm?  Suppose I should keep growing mine out, then?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sherlock.” Y/N shoots him a smirk that’s much more mischievous than his own. “I said the long hair worked for him, not you.  Who’s the vain one now?”

Despite the jesting tone of her voice, jealousy twinges in the back of Harry’s mind as his eyes darken from emerald to forest green.  He forces his lips to stay upturned as he offers a response that’s only half a joke. “Ouch, Watson.  S’not very nice, especially considering how I’ve driven you to San Diego and back today.  I think I deserve a bit of praise, don’t you?  Instead of you mocking me—”

“I’m not mocking!” Y/N’s protest is muffled around the entertainment in her voice, the rainbow cardigan once again slipping from her shoulder as she shakes with suppressed laughter. “Making one little comment isn’t mocking!  It would be mocking you if I acted like you do when you get in front of a mirror— you make this one specific face, like you’re trying to pull a Blue Steel, and—”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Harry huffs as he yanks his hand away from Y/N’s, swiping it through his loose ringlet before clamping it back around the steering wheel. “Ungrateful little wench, aren’t you?  I have half a mind to pull over right now and—”

“A wench?  I’m a wench?” Y/N’s laughter grows louder, filling the entire Cadillac with the unabashed sound that, despite his act, warms the pit of Harry’s stomach. “Alright then, Merlin. What, are you going to put me to work in a labour house?  Is that what a wench does these days?”

“First of all,” Harry quips, giving her a flat glimpse, “I’d be Arthur, not Merlin. Main character complex, remember?”

Y/N rolls her eyes grandly, proceeding to lower her head in a dramatic bow. “My apologies, sire. How could I forget?” 

“And second of all,” the vampire states slightly louder, talking over her sarcasm, “no, because apparently, all wenches do nowadays is just make fun of the men who volunteer to spend four hours in a car with them without so much as a ‘thank you.’”

The mortal girl’s upturned mouth drops open in amused disbelief. “What—?  I said thank you!  Literally three minutes ago!” 

“Did you?  I don’t recall.” Harry sighs airily as he smoothly guides the car around a bend in the road. “All I remember is you saying you think Mitch is sexier than I am.”

Snorting loudly, Y/N crosses her arms over her middle as she gives a small shake of her head. “Alright, I think that’s a bit of a stretch.  I just said he has nice hair.  And, while we’re on the topic—”

“Watch it.”

“— his mustache is cool, too.  It suits him.”

“You know, I could grow a mustache if I wanted to.” Harry can’t help the pout that plumps his lips, nor can he help the whine that creeps into his voice when Y/N giggles at the sight. “It’s true!  I could!  I just choose not to.  And, really, you should be thanking me for it, because it saves you from getting a carpet burn between your thighs.”

“So I should be thanking you for driving me today, for not growing facial hair…” Y/N ticks off the items on her fingers with a ridiculing gleam dancing through her eyes. “Anything else we need to add to the list?”

Harry tuts as he thinks, pursing his lips in consideration before letting out a sharp exhale as a sly smile carves his dimples into place. “That cardigan you’re wearing.  You could thank me for letting you borrow it— although ‘stealing’ might be a more accurate term.”

A miffed expression rises to Y/N’s face just as a flush does. “I didn’t steal it!  I’ve just been borrowing it, like you said.”

“Mmm.  Alright.” Harry hums in the back of his throat as he glances at the girl beside him, kinking a brow expectantly. “And when can I expect it back?”

“Fairly soon, actually.  It—” Y/N’s cheeks boil with more heat as she drops her attention to her lap, clearing her throat gently before continuing. “It, um, it doesn’t really smell like you anymore, so…”

Silence falls between the two as Y/N’s voice drifts off, leaving behind only the sound of Fleetwood Mac gently drifting through Harry’s speakers to cut through the thickening tension that fills the vehicle.  It’s only the faint sound of Y/N’s own shallow breaths that reminds Harry that he needs to fake his own, and he sucks in a deep gasp of air, his throat burning as her thick honey and lavender scent settles on the back of his tongue.

“Well,” He begins cautiously, gauging her reaction from the corner of his eye while keeping most of his gaze glued to the road. “You can always steal it again after I get it back, yeah?  It’ll be good as new.”

Harry nearly heaves an audible sigh of relief when he sees the edge of Y/N’s mouth twitch. “Not steal.  Borrow.” She corrects, her voice as tentative as his.

The heavy atmosphere in the car begins to dissipate as Harry rolls his eyes with fondness. “Agree to disagree, dove.”

Y/N lets out a sound of dissent as she rubs her palms down her legs, drumming her fingertips against her knees with finality. “Thank you for letting me borrow it, H.  And thank you for not growing a mustache.” She giggles out, throwing a coy smile his way before her expression grows more gentle. “And thank you for driving me today, although I’ve already said it.  I’ll have to think of a way to repay you.”

“Oh, I could think of a few.” Harry says with a suggestive smirk, thrumming his ringed fingers against the steering wheel. “How do you feel about spending the night?  We could order dinner from that Thai place you like, take a nice bath, and I could spend a few hours between your thighs while you make those sweet little noises I like so much.  Sounds relaxing, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” Y/N agrees, keeping her voice as light as she possibly can at the mention of Harry’s skilled tongue working her over. “But that doesn’t seem like much of a thank you on my behalf.  Shouldn’t I be the one giving you something?”

Harry casts a look at the mortal girl with a raised brow. “Shouldn’t I get to choose my own reward?”

The fact that he sees the action of eating her out as a reward makes Y/N’s tummy froth. She really doesn’t know how she got so lucky, truly. “You should, but I can think of something better.”

The creature licks his lips once at the promise of something more enjoyable than her taste on his tongue. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie in the bath.”

“Actually…” Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she casts Harry a sideways look through her lashes, twisting her body beneath her seatbelt to angle towards him. “I was thinking of something more immediate.”

The question of what she means by that dies before it can make its way out of Harry’s mouth, stopped in its tracks the moment Y/N’s fingers travel across the leather seat between them.  She rests her palm on his thigh for a moment before beginning to massage the muscle beneath his trousers, her delicate fingertips just brushing over his inseam as her hand works its way higher.

A choked groan is all Harry can manage when her touch travels over his suddenly-growing bulge, and it takes all of his focus not to veer the car off the road. “Y/N,” He says, his accent low and thick with warning. “‘M driving, sweetheart.”

“I know.” Her voice thrums darker than normal as her palm presses flat against him, moving in a slow circle over the plaid fabric with insistence. “I didn’t ask you to stop, did I?  You can keep driving.”

The laugh that rolls from Harry’s lips is breathless and strained. “Yeah, except I can’t when you’re— fuck—” Y/N squeezes along his hardening shaft, and Harry tightens his hands around the steering wheel with nearly enough force to bend it. “‘M gonna crash this bloody car if you keep doing that.”

“No, you won’t.” The mortal girl smiles sweetly at him as her nimble fingers pop the button of his tartan slacks, grasping his zipper and tugging it down so slowly that it’s almost painful. “You can multitask, can’t you?”

“Not like— God—” Clenching his jaw, Harry casts a pained glance at Y/N, only allowing himself a moment of looking before forcing his attention back to the road.  What he sees in that moment, however, is a mischievous glint in her eyes that’s hidden beneath set determination, and the combination would send a shiver down his spine even without her soft hand creeping beneath his trousers. “This doesn’t feel like a reward, pet.  Feels like torture.”

Y/N shrugs lightly, continuing to rock against Harry over his boxers as her free hand reaches for her seat belt and clicks the release button. “Maybe it is.  Maybe I want to see if you can stay just as focused as I did when you made me cum on that ladder. Remember?  Right in the middle of that antique mall?”

Harry watches as her seat belt retracts, a flash of worry striking through his body. Before he can voice his concern for her safety, her hand is dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. “Y/N,” He strains to get her name past his lips, his abdomen tightening as she grips him snuggly, and her palm feels like agony and salvation all at once. “If you make me cum in my pants with an hour left in our drive, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Or maybe…” Shifting across the seat, Y/N leans into Harry’s ear, her breath hot against his cool skin as she pumps him slowly and ignores the comment he’d moaned. “Maybe I just feel the way you did that day.  Maybe I want to tease you a bit.” She uses the precum that’s begun to steadily leak from his tip as lubricant, twisting her hand around his length to elicit a hiss from Harry’s clenched jaw. She takes the shell of his ear between her teeth, nibbling at it just to feel him writhe in response. “What was it you said to me, H?  When you slid your fingers inside me in that little music room?”

Harry offers no response other than the short puff of air that leaves his nostrils as he clenches the wheel harder beneath his palms.  He keeps his eyes locked on the road, knowing that if he looks down and sees Y/N working him beneath his slacks, he won’t be able to restrain himself from yanking the car to the side of the road and throwing her into the backseat.  And however wonderful that sounds— because it does sound incredibly wonderful, especially when Y/N swipes her thumb teasingly over his bubbling tip— he can’t let himself give into her.

Y/N, however, doesn’t seem to accept defeat so easily, and begins to drift her lips down Harry’s jaw and neck.  While the area had previously been a sensitive spot for Harry in the worst way, he’s repeatedly come to find that the sensitivity he feels when Y/N caresses him there to be an entirely new and pleasant sensation. 

“You said you wanted to have fun, remember?” She licks over the curve of his throat, her own breathing growing heavy when she feels Harry’s Adam’s apple bob beneath her tongue. “Now it’s my turn, don’t you think?”

“Thought—” Harry swallows thickly again, his hips unconsciously thrusting up slightly into Y/N’s hot palm. “Thought this was about thanking me, wasn’t it?  Not getting even.”

Y/N pulls away from his skin with a coquettish look in her wide eyes, her brows raised and lips parted into a small pout. “Are you saying that my mouth isn’t enough of a thank you?”

“Your—?  Oh, fucking hell—” Harry nearly swerves the car into the other lane of traffic when Y/N frees his length from his trousers, the cool temperature of the air-conditioned car sending a shudder down his spine.  The sensation only increases when Y/N dips her head down and extends her tongue to tease his cherry tip with the textured surface. “Y/N.”

“That’s what I thought.” The human girl says smugly, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips even when she wraps her mouth fully around his head and sucks gently, just enough to draw a breathless whimper from the man above her. 

With one hand still grasped tight around the steering wheel, Harry threads his other into Y/N’s hair, roughly tangling his fingers between her silky locks.  He doesn’t guide her head as he usually does, but the idea of being able to move her if he wants allows him to feel a semblance of control. 

Y/N clenches her thighs together as she bobs her head down further, heat pooling inside her belly as she feels Harry tug on her hair with the lightest pressure.  She trails the tip of her tongue down Harry’s expanse, following the prominent vein that pulses underneath her touch. “Do you still want me to stop, baby?” She asks softly, looking up at him through her lashes as she pumps him in a slow motion, batting her lashes sultrily. 

“No.” Harry whines the word as he presses his head back into the seat rest, his neck flexing as he forces his gaze to stay pinned on the road. “No, love, just— fuck, just keep going.” He grits his teeth when he feels her nose smudge along one of his fern tattoos, his next phrase coming out as a barely contained growl. “You’re down there already, so you might as well.”

Tucking her loose hair behind her ears, Y/N takes Harry back into her mouth, pushing herself further and further down his cock at a pace that’s nearly agonizing.  Harry twists his hand within her roots to create a makeshift ponytail, holding the locks out of her face so that she can focus better on the task at hand.  He feels the mortal girl smile around his length, her tender fingertips drawing a little heart along his exposed pelvis as a cheeky thank you. 

As the highway straightens out, Harry risks lifting his hand from the steering wheel for a quick moment, and his deft fingers quickly find the volume button of the stereo to lower it to a quiet lull.  He wants to hear every sound of Y/N’s throat opening up for him, and the muted noises she releases at the taste of him in her mouth.  

Of course, all of that is nearly overpowered by his own sounds of pleasure, and he struggles to keep himself quiet as he grips the wheel with renewed force. “Fuck, doll, look at you...I just…Christ.” The last word comes out as an elongated groan, his eyelids fluttering as her tongue massages down his extent in slow and even strokes. “Just like that, darling. God, you’re so good. Such a pretty mouth with such a filthy fucking tongue, hm?”

Harry throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder as another vehicle passes them, and a flash of territorial protection runs through him at the possibility of someone looking into the car and seeing Y/N touching him like this.  The sight of her acting like such a bold little minx is for his eyes only, and that thought combined with her slow, blissful motions pushes him to inch his foot towards the gas.  Harry wants to put a bit of distance between them and the other traffic on the highway, which will insert some much needed privacy into the situation. 

His acceleration, however, is interrupted by a particularly rough bump in the road, and his body jerks in his seat as they drive over it.  He hears the sound of Y/N gagging before he registers the searing sensation of his cock hitting the back of her throat, and he risks a peek downwards to see Y/N’s watery eyes blinking up at him in disorientation.

“Baby—” He tugs her head up from his lap, concern mingling with the pleasure in his voice as he evaluates her well-being.  Her expression is hazy from her ministrations, and she blinks tears from her irises, keeping one hand wrapped firmly around his length as the other wipes away the wetness at the corner of her eye. “‘M sorry.” Harry gulps thickly as he smooths his thumb over Y/N’s scalp, trying to soothe any discomfort he may have caused. “Are you alright?”

Y/N nods in a jerking motion as her mood darkens lustfully, and she swipes her thumb over the glistening tip of his cock before answering. “I’m fine, H.  Just caught off guard.  Don’t worry.” The rasp in her voice is evidence of her actions, and Harry hates how the sound goes straight to his throbbing length in her hand.  Undeterred by the harsh thrust that had choked her a few moments earlier, Y/N leans down once more to smear more sloppy kisses to the head of his prick, rubbing the slit against her bottom lip to elicit a cracked gasp from Harry’s lungs. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“You—You are.  God, you fucking are.” The praise falls easily from Harry’s raspberry lips as her mouth returns to its previous distraction, fully suckling on the leaking head as her hand continues to work him in a practiced manner. “Feels like a dream, sweetheart, t-the way you take me down your throat like that.”

The mortal girl keens at the validation, and uses it as fuel to push herself further down his shaft again.  She makes sure that she’s mindful of how deep she’s taking him, keeping her hand wrapped firmly around the base as a buffer in case they hit any more rough patches of road.  With that worry eased, she allows herself to focus on massaging his pulsing prick with her tongue, alternating movements with strong sucks to his sensitive tip. She twists her wrist at a rising pace, matching it to the tempo she’s established with her mouth, working him over messily and swimming in the strangled noises that pour out above her.

Y/N sniffles lightly, talking over Harry’s thick cock to the best of her ability, her voice garbled and raw. “You’re so fucking big, Harry. And so pretty, too.” She moves her hand lower down his expanse, carefully cupping his heavy balls and fondling them between her fingers, preening at the fractured grunt that filters from her lover’s taut throat. “And so full.”

“Please, baby…” The immortal’s quiet plea sends electricity coursing through every cell in her body, his grip on her hair tightening to the point where blots of color speckle her foggy vision. “Don’t stop. Just please don’t fucking stop.” 

“I want it.” She whispers around him, the warm breath of her words puffing down his prickling skin and sending goosebumps across his clammy thighs. “I want you to fill my mouth, Daddy. Want every last drop.”

The creature sucks in a rattling breath through the cracks of his teeth, waves of pleasure erupting along his cheeks and down the knobs of his spine, all because of how erotic her delicate voice sounds as it expresses such explicit confessions. “You’re fucking ruining me, dove.” 

The girl tugs at Harry’s balls gently, rolling them around her palm again as she gives a particularly harsh suck. He can’t stop the loud whine that tumbles down his tongue in response, his hips bucking upwards a tad in unrestrained need. “I want you to give it to me, H. Please? Want you so bad.” 

Harry throws his head further back against the headrest of his seat, his jaw dropping open in a silent moan as his heavy eyelids lull over his rolling irises, tears blearing his vision until he can barely make out the road in front of him. “Gonna—Gonna give it to you, pet. Gonna give you every last bit, all for my sweet girl.” 

Y/N hones her blurred sight above her onto Harry’s face, more warmth flooding the area between her thighs. He looks gorgeous as ever, with his prominent features slack in ecstasy, his clavicle cutting into the sweaty skin visible along the collar of his fitted tee, and with his unusually dark eyes framed by his long lashes. His chest is heaving wildly as he tries to keep his composure, his cross necklace glimmering in the sun with every rapid rise of his defined muscles. His sharp jaw is wound taut, the tendon along the structure ticking as he gazes at her drunkenly from above his sculpted cheekbones. His chestnut curls as matted along his temple and over the nape of his neck due to the heat of the moment, his thick brows are knitted together in pleasurable gripe, and his teeth-swollen lips are parted in aroused wonder at how skillfully she’s taking every last inch of him without any hesitation whatsoever. 

Y/N watches him intensely, drinking up every twitch of his expression and every soft groan he tries to stifle, her tongue lapping at him with more excitement than before. Harry locks eyes with her through his foggy haze, the corners of his flushed lips jolting upwards into a cocky open-mouthed smirk when he sees just how fucked he’s got her, despite the fact that he’s barely lifted a finger through the entire process. He slowly tongues over his chapped lips, glimpsing back up towards the highway for a split second to make sure he’s avoiding any other oncoming cars. He then returns his attention to the human, giving her head a playful tug and feeling the tip of his cock nudge along the roof of his mouth, resulting in a low hiss streaming past his condescending simper. “Why don’t you take a picture, princess? It’ll last you longer.” 

Y/N gives a quick squeeze to his balls, sly satisfaction weaving its way into her chest when she feels him jerk in response, a whined curse of, “Fuck me.” slipping through his defenses. “Maybe you should watch your tone while I’m down here.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at her challengingly, his palm grasping the back of her head with more intent and forcing her down, her nose smearing over his tummy as he hits the back of her throat deeper than before. He holds her there for a second, reveling in the way she constricts around him as soft gagging sounds bounce off the walls of his Cadillac. 

After a few seconds, he pulls her back up his cock to a more reasonable length, humming smugly as she shudders and coughs dryly, her eyes twinkling submissively. His voice comes out strained, but its dark and accented tenor holds its usual unyielding authority, as well as arrogant chiding. “And maybe you should learn not to talk back to me. Guess I’ll have to pull the paddle back out sooner than expected, huh?” 

A shiver coils down Y/N’s spine at the reference to that night. It happened a few weeks ago, but the memory is fresh in her mind as if it’s only been hours. It’s nearly impossible to forget, given everything Harry had put her through, and she often finds herself thinking back on it whenever she needs some relief and doesn’t have his company as help. 

The human murmurs her next sentence shyly, her watery eyes regarding him with a certain type of wistfulness that makes his balls ache. “Maybe you should.”

Harry lets out an airy chuckle at her eagerness, which slowly molds into a gravelly moan when she returns to dipping her head with faster, sloppier strokes. A few strands of hair have escaped the ponytail in his palm, and he takes great care in tucking them back behind her ears with his index finger, which then trails across her cheek affectionately. “Maybe I will. But right now, you just worry about finishing me off. Then, we’ll see if I’m feeling up to it some other time— if I feel like you deserve it.” 

Y/N nods her head obediently. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“‘Course, darling. Anything for my proper little slut. Especially when she’s taking me down her throat like such a good fucking girl.” 

Y/N’s only reply is a broken mewl, and she allows herself to become immersed back into the action of giving Harry the orgasm she so desperately wants to deliver.   

She can taste precum as it dribbles onto her tongue, a precursor to Harry’s impending climax, and the flavour makes her center throb.  She has half a mind to remove him from her mouth and beg him to pull over so that she can properly ride him, but she doesn’t doubt that doing so would add hours onto their travel time.  There’ll be time for all that once they’re back at his place, she reminds herself, pulling off of him just enough to lick her lips before lowering herself again.  Right now, there’s just one thing she wants above all else, and if the sounds Harry is making are any indication, she’s fairly close to getting it.

“So fucking close, angel.” Harry pants, his abdomen contracting over and over again as he struggles to keep the car moving at a steady and consistent pace. “Gonna make me cum, aren’t you?  Want Daddy to pump that pretty mouth full?”

Y/N hums around Harry as he yanks on her hair again, more for the sensation than to actually guide her.  Still, she pulls up from his prick with a pop, looking up at him with doe-like eyes as she replies. “Mhmm.” She hums again, giving him a particularly hard pump and delighting in the groan that rolls from his tongue. “Wanna taste you.”

“You— fuck, darling, that’s fucking it.” Harry’s words echo from his throat in a ragged gasp as he twists his jeweled fingers around her locks once more, straining his head back against the seat to keep himself from looking down again as she retakes him down her throat. “I’m gonna fucking— Oh my God, baby, please—”

Y/N digs the nails of her free hand into Harry’s pelvis, scraping over his plant tattoos as she feels his toned tummy tighten beneath her touch.  It only takes one more squeeze of her hand around his balls and one last determined suckle to draw his orgasm from him, and she lifts herself until just the head of his cock is in her mouth as he spills onto her tongue.  Her own eyes flutter shut as she whines at the salty taste, swallowing it down without a second thought.  She keeps her lips locked around him, wanting to capture every aftershock that spurts into her mouth, feeling ropes of cum splatter across her taste buds as Harry squirms against his seat, whining in encouragement.

She continues to milk him for everything he’s worth, repeatedly prodding the twitching vein protruding along his prick and scraping his sputtering head against the inside of her cheek, wanting to urge every last drop out of him. She only pulls away when the young man whimpers from above, shakily tugging on her hair to alert her that he’s crossing into more sensitive territory.

“Fucking shit…” He murmurs weakly, his breathing erratic as he eases off the gas pedal to reduce the car to a slower pace, rather than keeping the accelerated speed he’d fallen into as he came.  He combs his fingers through Y/N’s mussed locks as a faint, exhausted chuckle rolls from his lips, his thumb ducking down to collect a bit of the mess that had seeped out of the corner of her mouth. He pushes the digit past her swollen, colored lips, his breath catching as he watches her clean it off without a single hitch. “God, minx, I’m gonna need a little warning the next time you decide to do that. Thought I was gonna crash the car a few times.”

“You wouldn’t have.” Y/N reassures him quietly, looking up at him with a fond smile before turning her attention to his softening prick.  She licks up one stray bead of cum from his tip, delighting in the strangled sound the action draws from Harry. She then proceeds to carefully tuck him back inside his trousers, buttoning and zipping them up with ease.  She even takes care to tuck his red and black striped shirt back inside the waistband, but only after she presses a gentle kiss to his still-tensed abdomen, nuzzling her nose across his happy trail and feeling butterflies flutter in her belly when he lets out an appreciative mewl.

Harry inhales deeply as he watches her sit up from the corner of his eye, his hand slipping from her hair to his own to fix the disheveled curls. “No, I suppose not.  I have precious cargo.  Speaking of—” He reaches over Y/N’s body, and with one hand still on the wheel, fumbles to fasten her seatbelt back across her chest and lap. “Y’gotta keep this on if you ever do that again, alright?  S’not safe to have it off for so long.”

A fond smile tugs at Y/N’s lips as Harry sews his fingers over her thigh, squeezing lightly over her jeans before massaging the muscle.  She’s noticed that he’s grown more and more touchy and protective each time they’re intimate with each other, and it would be a lie to say she doesn’t enjoy it. “Yes, sir.”

Harry’s fingertips stutter over Y/N’s leg for just a moment, and the twitch of his sensitive cock beneath his slacks nearly causes Harry to swerve the car again. “Fuck, don’t say that right now.” He mumbles brokenly, his voice much more raw than he’d like it to be. “Don’t think my poor dick can handle it.”

Laughter bursts from Y/N’s chests, and the contagious sound draws a giggle from Harry’s own body as she settles her fingers over his, twisting them together in an instinctive motion. “Too sensitive?” She teases, lulling her head back against her seat rest while keeping her eyes focused on him, sweetening her voice down into a babying drawl. “You poor thing.”

A bright pink blush sears itself onto Harry’s cheeks as he clears his throat, tightening his hand around the wheel again to ground himself. “Yeah.  I only really like overstimulation when I’m the one administering it, not the one receiving it.  And you—” He squeezes her thigh as punctuation. “—are much too stimulating, especially when you’re looking at me like that.”

Another honeyed giggle falls from Y/N’s strawberry lips, and the corners of her eyes crinkle as her smile continues to grow. “I like seeing you like this.” She says decisively, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she reaches over and affectionately twirls one of his loose ringlets around her finger. “All flustered.  It’s cute.”

“Are you seriously calling me cute after deep-throating me while I drive?” Harry asks incredulously, a snort echoing from his throat as he shifts around in his seat.  He’s already uncomfortable in his trousers again, both from the wetness she’d left on him and the way her words are making him stiffen again. 

“Mm.” Y/N thrums in agreement as her free hand reaches for the stereo, dialing up the volume again so the sounds of The Kinks can be heard without strain. “I think you’re cute— very cute, actually.  Even moreso when you get all blushy. Am I not allowed to say that?”

Another layer of warmth soaks itself across Harry’s small ears and stinging nose, and he tries to play off his childish reaction with a casual scoff. He can’t deny the way the compliment makes him feel, though. It’s different from the praise she usually gives him, which tends to be sexual and in the heat of the moment. But this is much more intimate in such a sweet and tender manner, and he hasn’t received that type of innocent attention from someone in much too long. He likes it, he decides. Especially when it comes from Y/N.

She makes him weak, and though he’d normally seethe at the idea of anyone ever making him weak again, he comes to find that the softness she coaxes from him is something so different from the mainstream definition of that dangerous word. She makes him weak, yes, but not in a destructive sense. This girl— this simple mortal girl with bones made of glass and skin of fine velvet— makes him weak in the knees, and in the pit of his stomach, and in the cement walls he’d built around his phantom heart. She makes him vulnerable in new places that have been entirely foreign to him for the last twenty decades, if the glowing warmth surging through him is any indication. And for the first time in a while, he’s beginning to think that maybe— just maybe— that’s not such a terrible thing.

The vampire comes to the sudden epiphany that being weak for someone is unorthodox to him because it’s a human trait. Allowing yourself to form a deeper connection with someone— with a person completely the opposite of what you are— requires compassion and understanding. It requires willingness and empathy, as well as trust and pure intentions. It requires humanity. And that’s what Y/N is doing, Harry realizes. She’s taking that last wilted shred of humanity he possesses and is urging him to use it. Even though it’s not intentional on her behalf, and even though she has no idea of just how small that fragment of humanity is, it’s somehow miraculously working; just her being the caring soul she’s always been seems to be enough to awaken that part of him. 

Despite the fact that the immortal would normally laugh at such a stupidly cringey and cliche concept, there’s no denying that at this point in their little LifeTime movie crossover, it’s true. That’s why it feels so utterly weird— she’s bringing out a side of himself he hasn’t shown in literal centuries. She makes him feel the one sensation he didn’t think was possible for him to ever experience again: She makes him feel alive. 

Oh.

…Oh. 

Harry snaps himself out of his inner turmoil, sucking in a shaky breath and exhaling slowly, releasing all his consuming thoughts. Relying on his supernatural impulses to focus on any oncoming hazards, the creature allows himself the indulgence of shifting his hunter eyes onto Y/N for a lingering glance.  The sun is just beginning to set outside the car window, ducking over the cityscape and washing the distant buildings in mellow shades of soothing pinks, cozy oranges, and buttery yellows. The colors cast a golden light through the glass of his car, and it settles onto Y/N’s soft features like stardust, highlighting her flyaway hairs, the gentle slope of her plush lips, and the dreamy tinge in her captivating eyes.  

If Harry didn’t know any better, about both what she is and about not believing in such ridiculous tales, he’d think she was an angel.  Not that an angel would ever be seen with the likes of him.

“Y’can say that, petal.” He murmurs after a lengthy pause, reluctantly returning his attention to the long stretch of road in front of him, his palm still secured over Y/N’s denim-covered thigh.  If he focuses enough, he can feel her pulse through the fabric, and the steady thumping sends a strange prickling through his hand and into the rest of his body. “You can say whatever you’d like, and I’d listen.”

“Oh, is that so?” She pokes at him with a cheeky grin, using her nail to absentmindedly trace the blood red daylight crystals embedded into the eyes of his lionhead ring. “So you’re actually offering to listen for once, instead of making your cocky little comments?”

The edges of the vampire’s lips jolt with endearment. “Just this once, yeah.” 

Except it’s not just this once, Harry thinks to himself, adding on the words he will most likely never have the courage to speak aloud. I’d listen to anything and everything you have to say. No matter how small and insignificant it may be, or however random and useless you might think it is. I’d listen. For you, always.

Harry doesn’t express his private thoughts, but he pretends that he has, and he pretends that the smile Y/N is gifting him at the moment is her heartfelt response to his silent confessions. 

He adores it more than he should, and how could he not? It’s so blinding, he thinks it could very well burn him.

///

It’s not that Harry is nervous for tonight, because he’s not.  

Spending his Friday nights with Y/N has become as regular as clockwork, and Harry knows that it’s overdue in their routine for him to cook a dinner for her, given that she’d had the courtesy of doing it for him. He’s already picked up her favourite red wine to accompany the gnocchi recipe he’d sweet-talked Vincenzo into sharing with him (Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto— the one she’d enjoyed on their date at Bella Vita), as well as snagged all the ingredients for the lavender lemonade cocktail he planned to make her when she first arrived.  He’d even gone so far as to freeze a few petals from edible flowers into his cubed trays earlier in the day, just to up the ante on his already stunning presentation.  

He’s already set out shining dinner plates along his kitchen island, tidied and dusted his entire condo, and made each of his friends promise to leave him alone for the night.  He’s prepared everything that’s been within his power into sheer perfection; nothing could possibly go wrong.  So he’s not nervous, because everything is fine and because he never gets nervous. Being nervous is for morons, and he’s far from being one, so he just isn’t. It’s that simple. There’s absolutely no reason to be nervous. 

Except that he can’t manage to get his mahogany belt to lie properly against his waist (he’d searched in vain for his black Gucci belt with the logo buckle, but hadn’t been able to find it), the woven leather tail twisting repeatedly whenever Harry tries to tuck it beneath the rest of the belt.  And while the rational part of his mind knows that this doesn’t matter, and that he can just guide the tail into a loop along his olive trousers, the irrational part of his mind— which, unfortunately, just happens to be in control at this very moment— knows that tucking it in won’t look nearly as chic as folding it just right to lay the excess along the length of his thigh.

He’s already crafted the rest of his outfit so carefully, spending almost an hour deciding on the red and black patterned vest to pair with the trousers, and an additional forty-five minutes choosing which short-sleeved button up to layer beneath it.  He’d ended up picking a yellow top with indigo swatches along the collar, proceeding to tuck the shirt sleeves up along the sleeves of the knitted vest to give the fit a stylish flare. Harry thinks he looks good (although, to be fair, he always does), but he knows that if he turns his attention back to it for too long, he’d end up tearing it off and starting all over again.  However, judging by the clock that’s ticking from his bedside table, Harry knows that isn’t an option.  It’s 5:42 PM, and Y/N had said she’d be here by 6:00, and if Harry isn’t ready by the time her delicate knuckles rap against his front door, then she might just decide to turn on her heel and leave, and Harry won’t ever get the chance to ask her—

The creature stops short in his tracks, his fingers freezing over the leather of his belt that he’d just managed to settle into place.  He’s not asking her that, he reminds himself, loosening his limbs just enough to nervously twist his mother’s ring around his pinky.  He’s already decided that— and undecided it, and decided it again— after his road trip epiphany the previous weekend.  It doesn’t matter just how weak, or warm, or alive, or just plain human Y/N makes him feel.  He knows what this is, and has known since the beginning, and there’s just no way that he can bring himself to ask Y/N to be his—

Harry can’t even force himself to think of the word. 

He makes long strides towards his dresser, picking up the string of pearls lying on top of the varnished wood and fastening them around his icy neck.  What meaning could that word even hold for him, anyways?  He’s a vampire, and though Y/N makes him feel the complete opposite, there’s no way he could ever feel so human as to give into the notion of having a girlfriend.  A girlfriend leads to a fiancée, which leads to a wife, which leads to the expectation of a family, and Harry knows that none of those things are compatible with the immortal afterlife he lives now.  If Mitch, who is— by any accounts— ten times the man Harry could ever be, hasn’t even managed to lock Sarah— another vampire— into a solid relationship after three years, how could Harry delude himself into thinking that he could do that with a human?

And even if he, with all his commitment, abandonment, and trust issues aside, could have a relationship with a mortal— not any mortal, he reminds himself, but the only mortal that’s ever managed to capture a sliver of his genuine attention— that doesn’t mean he actually wants one.  Why would Harry ever want to be tied to one place, or one person?  Why would he ever want to have to phone someone before going somewhere, or have to check in on them when they’re doing the same?  Why would he want to deal with having to manage someone’s emotions, problems, and life?  He’s traveled the circumference of the world and back again, and seen more changes to society than any human could ever comprehend. He loves being reckless, and untethered, and not responsible for anyone other than himself. He enjoys being impulsive and not having to worry about his actions falling back on anyone else’s shoulders other than his own. It’s who he is— it’s who he’s been for a while now— and it’s who he had imagined he’d continue to be for another two centuries. 

It’s like that one country song that tormented his radio in the early 2000s— the one about life being like an endless road and about how people should enjoy it while it lasts. He believes the exact words are, “Life is a highway, I want to ride it all night long” or something of the sort. Horrendous song, but it held a pretty decent message. 

So with all of this taken into precise consideration, why would he, in his right mind, ever chain himself to one geographical location, and one single fleeting soul?

The answer floats to the forefront of Harry’s mind as he casts a glance towards his half-opened dresser drawer, where a pair of Y/N’s pastel blue sweatpants are folded neatly on top of his own pairs.  She’d left them there a few weeks ago, and while Harry had washed and dried them for her with the intention of giving them back, he’d decided it would be a better idea to keep them here in case Y/N ever ended up staying the night without planning to.  Just so she’d have something comfortable of her own to put on before falling asleep in Harry’s bed, on the side that he now keeps made up just for her.  

Why would Harry ever tie himself to one person?  Because that person is Y/N, and she’s not just a person.  She is— in every way except officially— Harry’s girl.

Harry can’t even bring himself to deny that fact as he fixes the collar of his shirt and strides out of his bedroom, dimming down the lights before making his way to the glass staircase.  Every issue he’d brought up, every fact that he’s tried to use to convince himself that he doesn’t want a relationship, can’t even be considered an issue when it comes to Y/N.  He already does all of those things— checking in on her to make sure she’s alright, letting her vent about her stress, listening to her problems with an attentive ear, holding her hand whenever they’re together, kissing her forehead while she lays against his chest, switching her to the inside of the sidewalk to ensure her safety, moving strands of hair out of her face so they don’t become a bother— and he does it all gladly.  He’s come to adore the soothing comfort he receives when he walks Y/N to her door after a date, or double checks the locks after she’s inevitably invited him inside.  He delights in calling her during her lunch breaks to inquire about how her day is going, and to remind her that “iced coffee isn’t a substitute for water, peach.  You’ll feel a lot better on your shift if you drink a glass, alright?”  And even when her voice is strained and laden with anxiety as she curls into his side after a particularly rough day, it still sounds like the most beautiful melody he’s ever heard, and the weight and warmth of her body against his own acts like a relaxant to Harry’s cold limbs.  

He rolls his shoulders now as he skips the last two stairs and lands squarely on his leather Gucci boots (they’re one of his favorites, and though they’re a simple black, they have a rainbow impression along the lip that he thinks is quite chic). He releases a long breath as he absentmindedly studies over his art wall, his eyes landing on the painting of a deconstructed sunflower. The abstract piece reminds him of the night Y/N had come over to his condo for the first time, and he begins to feel that annoying yet familiar knot between his shoulder blades that always seems to form when he’s away from her.  It’s something he hadn’t even noticed until a few days ago; how his body grows rigid and stiff whenever they’re separated, like he can’t allow himself to exhale until she’s beside him again.  He supposes it’s a strange vampire tendency— something carnal and territorial inside of him that thinks it’s his job to protect Y/N, the decadent and intoxicating center of his strange obsession, and when she’s not around, unease threads into his muscles until he can be sure his primary source of blood is alright. 

Or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s something deeper inside him— some other reason to keep her out of any harm and an arm’s length away. However, he refuses to indulge that unsettling mystery right now. It’s too fucking complicated to dwell on.

Ambling into the kitchen, Harry begins to dig through his lower cupboards for the apron he hadn’t bothered to slip on when he was cooking earlier.  Pushing aside the white cover with the words “World’s Best (pancake) Tosser” stamped onto the front (it had been a gift from Niall, delivered with a sly grin and a cheeky comment about how the apron was too accurate to pass up), Harry selects the butcher’s apron printed with the phrase “Mr. Good Lookin’ is cookin’!” He slips the loop over his head and ties the straps behind his toned back with a quick motion, the edges of his lips quirking at the pompous joke. He knows Y/N will make a comment about it. 

He hadn’t bothered with the apron before when he’d been preparing the gnocchi simply because his loungewear isn’t necessarily that important, but now that he’s changed into something much nicer than the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d previously worn— and after he’d struggled with deciding on the outfit for so long— the last thing he wants to do is splash sauce onto himself as he navigates his kitchen.

Harry’s mind continues to race with nearly incomprehensible thoughts as he gathers the last of the ingredients needed to finish the meal, his nimble fingers easily peeling the skin from a clove of garlic before he begins to mince it with practiced skill.  Maybe that’s the cause of all his confusing feelings, he muses as he tosses a knob of butter into his preheated pan, scooping the garlic onto his knife and adding that to the mix as well.  Maybe that instinctual feeling to protect is the root of all his fantasies of a relationship.  He can’t possibly want— can’t actually believe that he’d...

Except he does.  

Sighing grimly as he snags a wooden spoon from a kitchen drawer, Harry nudges the cabinet shut with his hip before beginning to stir the sizzling concoction in his pan.  Somehow, against all odds— against all reason— he’s become attached to Y/N.  So attached that he’d spent an hour begging Vincenzo for this specific recipe when he could’ve so easily googled a different one and recreated it to near perfection.  So attached that he’d driven to three different liquor stores to find her favourite brand of red wine, which he’d set to chill in his fridge hours ago, because even though a cabernet sauvignon is supposed to be chilled for forty-five minutes at most, Y/N likes it icy cold.  So attached that he’d taken care to freeze individual flower petals into ice cubes, just so he could make her a cocktail flavoured with honey and lavender, the exact same way she is.  So attached that, for the first time in twenty decades, the concept of a relationship doesn’t draw a disgusted gag from his throat and doesn’t send a ghostly spike of pain to his neck.

“Doesn’t matter.” He mutters the words out loud to himself, as if speaking them audibly will reinforce their meaning.  Opening the fridge with a rough tug, Harry nabs the quart of cream he’d purchased earlier that day, bending the mouth of it open and pouring it smoothly into the saucepan and giving it a stir.  It doesn’t matter if he wants a relationship, because there’s no way that Y/N does.

A bitter laugh tears its way through his chest as he reaches for the bowl of gorgonzola cheese he’d shredded earlier, scattering the ingredient into the saucepan and slowly mixing it in.  He’s arrived at the same point he has all week when he’s had this argument with himself. The same fact that’s stopped him in his tracks each time he’s dared to think that— if he should ask— Y/N would say yes to him becoming a more permanent fixture in her life.  She’d say yes, he thinks.  Or he hopes, at least.  She’d say yes, until she wakes up in the middle of the night to Harry caged over her with crimson irises, terrifying shadows below his waterline, black veins webbing out from his eyes, and a blood-soaked mouth bared to reveal his dagger-like fangs. Then, she’d be gone.

Not gone, he amends in his head, the thought somber and acrid in his mind as he reduces the sauce to a simmer.  He’d have to go after her, of course, but not in the way a man usually goes after a woman.  Despite how they’d joked about it casually, Harry most definitely doesn’t belong in a LifeTime movie.  No, he’s from a much darker genre— less leading man, more malicious creature that lurks in the night— and the only thing he could do when he chases Y/N down would be to wipe all traces of himself from her mind entirely.  That’s the ending they’d be destined for if he let himself buy into his romantic delusions.  It’s better not to put a label on anything.  No labels keep a degree of separation between their two lives— at least, that’s what Harry tells himself.  And as much as it pains him, a degree of separation might be exactly what they need.

And yet, when Y/N knocks on his door two minutes later, just as he’s sprinkling various ground herbs into the sauce and setting it onto the back of the stovetop to wait until they’re ready to eat, Harry can’t help the giddy grin that immediately decorates his dimples. He hurries to untie his apron and tosses it onto the back of one of the chairs lined against his kitchen island, dragging a ringed hand through his purposefully tousled curls as he nearly super-speeds to the front door of his condo. He trips on his way there, spewing curses as he barely saves himself from face-planting the ground like an imbecile. He straightens himself out with a petty huff, slowing down slightly and being more mindful of every step he takes. His smile has already returned before he even yanks the door open.

Y/N— his Y/N, he allows himself to think affectionately— is dressed from head to toe in his own clothes.  Well, almost head to toe, he corrects, casting a sly glance at the way her black jeans hug the curve of her hips too perfectly to be his own pair.  But he recognizes the black and white speckled short-sleeve button up that’s french-tucked into the high-waisted denim, and shrewdly notes the addition of a Gucci belt looped around her waist— the very one he’d been searching for earlier.  She’s even styled the shirt the same way he does, with half the top buttons undone.  However— Harry licks his lips unconsciously as his eyes hover over her exposed chest— she’s paired the top with a delicate looking black lace bralette that catches his hungry gaze the moment he spots it.  Even the black ankle boots she’s wearing are reminiscent of his own fashion choices.

“Y’know,” Y/N’s amused voice cuts through his stupor, drawing his attention back from the obvious canvas of her body and up to her glittering eyes. “It’s not very gentlemanly of you to check out my tits before even saying hello.”

Harry’s mouth crooks sheepishly in response as he reaches out to her, looping his muscled arms around her waist and pulling her inside the condo and against his body with ease. “Hello.” He murmurs obediently, thumbing at her waist over the silky fabric as a teasing yet fond cadence sews its way into his voice. “So this is where my clothes keep disappearing to, hm?  I searched for that belt for an hour today.”

“Shouldn’t have left it at my apartment, then.” Y/N counters easily, curling her hands against Harry’s chest.  He can already feel her heat beginning to web through his entire being, warming him in a manner nothing has in the last two hundred years. “And you said tonight’s dress code was casual formal— which makes zero fucking sense, by the way— so I figured the best way to conform to that would be would be by wearing your own clothes.” A drop of hesitance begins to colour Y/N’s tone as she casts her gaze towards his own, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tries to read between his teasing words for any hint of actual annoyance. “Is that… okay?”

“Perfectly okay, angel.” Harry soothes the worry lines that have formed between her eyes by stamping a kiss onto her forehead, allowing himself to linger for a moment to inhale her familiar scent of sugar and flowers.  It seems more powerful today than it usually is, almost bowling him over right there in the foyer, and he takes a step back to regain control of himself under the pretense of closing the door. “Honestly, I’m a little miffed that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

“‘Miffed’?” The mortal girl laughs as she reaches down to retrieve something from the ground, and it’s only then that Harry realizes that she’d had an overnight bag in her hand before he’d tugged her into his grasp and caused her to drop it.  “Who says ‘miffed’?  Are you a sixty-seven year old woman named Betty?” 

Although he allows a chuckle at her incredulous question, Harry’s attention has focused in on the bag inches away from her outstretched hand.  Cursing himself for being too wrapped up in her appearance to notice the item she’d been toting, Harry quickly fetches it from the ground before she can, carrying it further into his apartment before setting it down on one of the island chairs, as if the small distance could make up for the initial lack of manners he’d displayed. 

“No, I’m not.  I’m just British.” He should bring the bag up to his bedroom, he thinks, just so Y/N doesn’t have to wonder where her clothes are when she’s fraught with exhaustion later. But that would mean having to leave her side, and the grip her fragrance has on his senses right now won’t allow him to do so. 

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot.” Y/N lilts with an exaggerated air, another giggle rising from her petal-like lips as she leans against the marble countertop on her elbow, propping her chin up in one hand and resting the other on top of the stone.  She regards him with all the affection that he doesn’t deserve, and yet always seems to crave, and it takes all of Harry’s willpower to not grasp her chin in his hand and sift their lips together just to taste her laughter. “Along with ‘pip pip’ and ‘cheerio,’ right?”

“Yes, those phrases are definitely at the top of my vocab list.  You’ve heard me say them a million times.” Harry rolls his eyes playfully, shaking himself from his distracted thoughts as he steps back behind the counter to effectively put a little bit of much needed space between him and the mortal girl.  His restless hands are already outstretched to his bar shelves before he even asks, “D’you want a drink, darling?”

Y/N watches with innocent curiosity as Harry sets two lowball glasses down on the counter before reaching into his cupboard for a jar of honey, which he spoons onto an awaiting plate.  He rims the glasses in the syrup before dipping them into sugar, sparking confusion in Y/N as she tries to decipher what cocktail Harry is making her.  Her befuddlement only grows as he extracts a bottle of clear liquid that she assumes is vodka and a purple concoction that she can’t identify. “What are you making?”

“Lavender lemonade.” Harry answers swiftly, reaching into a drawer for the small double-ended measuring cup tool that Y/N still can’t remember the name of, as well as his crystal cocktail shaker.  Y/N observes with wide eyes as he fills the shaker with ice and vodka before picking up the mysterious liquid. “This is lavender syrup.  Not homemade, unfortunately, but I do buy it from a little organic grocer I know at the farmer’s market.  Adds a nice floral note to the drink, and mixes well with the lemonade.” He caps the container and shakes it expertly (the way his muscled arms ripple with effort doesn’t go unnoticed by her, as it never does) before setting it down on the counter and making his way to the fridge freezer. “S’where I get my honey, too.” He chances a look over his shoulder just in time to see Y/N dip her finger into the honey pooled on the plate and pop the digit into her mouth, and Harry has to force himself to tear his eyes away as she sucks lightly on her fingertip, her cheeks just barely hollowing. “Do you like it?”

“Mhmm,” Y/N hums around the digit as she keeps her eyes shamelessly glued to Harry’s ass while he bends down to open the cooled drawer, retrieving a tray of cubed ice and coming back over to add one large block into each lowball glass. “Are there flowers in there?” She asks in wonder after retracting her finger from her mouth with a pop, leaning over the table more to observe the decorative ice that has filled the cups.

“Mm.” Harry matches her hum with a more pleasured undertone, both from her noticing the small detail, and from the unobstructed view of her cleavage that her new position allows him.  He picks up the shaker and strains the light purple lavender and vodka mixture into the glasses, topping off each cocktail with a can of sparkling lemonade that he’d also retrieved from the fridge. “S’pretty, isn’t it?” He asks, stirring the drinks with a spoon before holding up one of the glasses to the light and handing it to Y/N. “My own creation.  You’re the first person to try it.”

Their fingers graze as Y/N accepts the glass from him, sparking electricity up her entire arm, and she can’t help the irreverent moan that thrums in the back of her throat as she brings the glass to her lips, tasting the honey and sugar first before the lavender coats her tongue. “This is so good, H.” She praises, licking a lingering dab of honey from her mouth between her words.  Twisting the glass in her hands as she regards the lilac drink, Y/N eyes him over the rim of the crystal, pupils blown wide. “I didn’t think honey and lavender could ever taste so good.”

“You know, I used to think that, too.” Harry’s mumbles knowingly as his own eyes drift a shade darker. He watches the human girl’s neck strain with her swallow, as if she knows he’s trying to keep his gaze away from there and she’s beckoning him back. “But it’s my favourite flavour combination now.  Can’t ever seem to get enough.”

The comment goes right over the mortal girl’s head, just as Harry knew it would.  His expectations of the cocktail in his hand are also met from his very first sip; although the concoction is delicious, it pales in comparison to the fragrance wafting across the island from Y/N.  He may as well be drinking water, honestly. But he knows he’ll end up repeating the recipe a few more times at the very least, just because Y/N tells him that it’s her favourite drink he’s ever made.

“You say that every time I make you a new drink, dove.” Harry can’t help but quip coyly at the repeated compliment, setting his crystal tumbler against the counter with a quiet thud. “Am I supposed to keep believing it?”

“Obviously. Especially when each drink keeps getting better and better.” Y/N licks a drip of honey from the rim, her tongue delicately capturing the sugar crystals before her lips settle back onto the edge to take another sip. “You would be an amazing bartender, but we’ve already talked about that before.”

“We have, yeah.” Harry smiles softly as he recalls the conversation they’d had weeks ago, where she had said his drinks were better than anything she’d had at a club, and he had responded by saying he doesn’t have the patience to be a bartender. That conversation feels as if it happened a lifetime ago, and considering how much closer they had become since, it quite literally could be. “But refresh my memory, will you? Why is it that I’d make such an amazing bartender?”

Y/N gives Harry a jokingly flat glance as a response to his smug tone, but decides to humor him, nonetheless. “Well, you obviously have the mixology skills, and I don’t doubt that the whole thing you have going—” She nods her head to him over the island with a teasing smirk. “—would get you endless tips.”

“My whole thing?” Harry repeats the phrase with an air of faux confusion. “What do you mean, my whole thing?”

He knows what she means, of course.  But he won’t deny himself an opportunity to hear Y/N feed his ego with sweet-spoken praise.

Y/N doesn’t buy his innocent act for a minute, but still indulges him, yet again.  She likes to see Harry preen under her compliments just as much as he likes to receive them. “You know…” She casts her eyes over his figure slowly, picking out every detail she can comment on as she wedges her bottom lip between her teeth. “Your whole look— the tattoos, the muscles, the dimples, the sparkling green eyes, the shiny curls… all of that would have any drunk customer draped over the bar for you.  And even if you couldn’t get by on looks alone, you’re absolutely charming.  To the point of ridiculousness, honestly, but,” Y/N eyes him suspiciously, and while her words are mostly in jest, she can’t deny that she’s seriously thought them at some point in time. “I’m not entirely convinced it’s genuine.  Although being able to fake that kind of attitude would serve you well in a crowded bar.”

Whatever Harry was expecting to hear among the praise, an accusation of dishonest behaviour wasn’t it.  His brow furrows deeply as his lips turn down into a displeased grimace, and he drums his ringed fingers over the marble countertop as he cocks his head to the side. “What d’you mean?” The question is earnest now, no longer a coquettish teasing remark, and the warmth the mortal girl had provided him with begins to subside as a flash of icy doubt digs shards through his chest. “Not genuine?  Does it seem like I’m faking it or something?”

Y/N teases her lips with her tongue, unable to stop the nervous tic as she hears the displeasure that clearly strains Harry’s tone.  Setting her own glass down on the counter, Y/N lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I just mean, like… I don’t know.  I don’t really think that now, but in the beginning…”

“What?” Harry prompts her with more intensity than he’d meant to, but he’s spent so much of this past week analyzing their every interaction while wrestling with his own thoughts that he’s already on edge; he needs to hear what Y/N had thought of him when they’d first met.  His own recollection of the memories has made him flinch multiple times, particularly the times when he’d thought that Y/N was as boringly ordinary as humans come. He can only imagine what her take on the situation is. “Did I— was I rude, or—?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” She hurriedly assures him, shaking her head hard enough that her loose locks bounce around her shoulders. “You weren’t rude at all— the opposite, actually.  I don’t know, it just seemed… like it was too good to be true, y’know?” Her voice grows impossibly softer as she traces her finger over the rim of her glass, her eyes dropping from Harry’s like it hurts her to hold them. “Like, there was no way that someone could be so attractive, so funny, so good in bed—” Harry can hear blood creep up the nape of her neck against her will, beginning to pour into her cheeks. “—and so charming.  Something had to be an act.”

Despite the urge Harry has to justify his actions, he knows there’s nothing he can say that could prove Y/N’s original perception of him wrong.  And, in all honesty, he has no right to.  As much as he’d like to argue the fact, and as much as he did genuinely come to enjoy being around her, Harry can’t deny that from the first moment he’d approached Y/N in that club, he’d dialed up his charm as he always did without a second thought.  He’d flattered her, flirted with her, done everything he could to convince her that she should take him home so he could indulge in the two things he’s always manipulated people for: sex and blood.  And when that worked, he did it again, and again, and again, until they’d fallen into the pattern they have now.  He’d never lied, of course, and he prides himself on that— every compliment he’d paid her had been rightly deserved.  But even that justification doesn’t stop the shame that’s twisting its way through his limbs and making his head heavy.  

She had thought something had to be an act, and she had been right.  Harry himself was an act, in every aspect of the term— stretching the truth about his past, opening himself up just enough to make her open herself in return, setting her up so that she’d become dependent on their relationship. And all so he could sink his teeth into her neck without a second thought.  

He can’t exactly pinpoint when all that had changed— singing “Non-Stop” in his kitchen?  The jealousy he’d felt when he spotted her on a date with that insipid idiot, Jacob?  Seeing her in that yellow sundress when he picked her up for their first date?— but the fact that it had changed doesn’t erase how it had started. It doesn’t erase the cruelty he’d hidden beneath his calculating words, intricately-placed caresses, and dirty promises.

“Harry.” He’d been so caught in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Y/N had moved until she’s standing right in front of him, one of her velvet hands twisting into his own as the other tucks a loose curl back from his creased forehead. “I don’t think that now.  You know that, right?” Even after securing the ringlet, she keeps her palm pressed against his cheek, and Harry can’t help but lean into the burning heat her touch provides. “I just— I’d never met anyone like you.  There was no one like you where I grew up.  I didn’t think someone could be so…” Y/N worries her lip between her teeth again, and Harry wishes he had enough in him to smooth the bite mark with a touch as soft as her own. “I didn’t know you yet.  But I do now.”

The vampire inhales a shaking breath as if he needs it to live, lifting his own free hand to wrap over the palm Y/N rests against his cheek.  Weaving his fingers through hers, he drags her hand lower until her skin is secured over his lips, and he smudges a gentle kiss against her handprint.  There’s something so tender in her words— no one could ever accuse Y/N of being disingenuous.  But he needed to hear this, he thinks as he presses his mouth repeatedly to her palm, the throbbing of her pulse in her wrist catching against his cheek.  He needed to hear how she thinks she knows him.  It’ll serve as a reminder that he can’t allow himself to succumb to the weak thoughts he’d battled earlier in the day.  As much as Y/N assumes she knows him, there’s things that she’ll never understand— things he would never allow her to understand, because she doesn’t deserve such a terrifying burden— and how could he keep up that pretense while allowing her to call him her boyfriend?

“I know you do, sweetheart.” Harry mutters the words into her fragile skin, inhaling her intoxicating aroma deeply until his throat burns in agony.  It’s a small price to pay for what he’s put her through. “It’s alright.  I don’t blame you for doubting it.” The smirk he forces onto his face is nowhere near believable, but he manages to keep the strain out of his voice enough to sell it. “I’m pretty hard to believe, y’know?  Especially when you grew up with people like Cucumber Dick.”

Successfully diffusing the moment, Harry’s comment tugs an irritated groan from Y/N’s chest, and she takes a step back from him as her hand falls from his face, despite her other fingers still remaining tied with his own. “You can’t just keep calling him Cucumber Dick, alright?  He has a name!”

“Yeah, Bradley.” Harry says in distaste, his nose wrinkling as he shakes his head slowly. “S’honestly worse than Cucumber Dick.  I’m doing him a favour— a bit of charity work.”

Y/N hums in the back of her throat thoughtfully as she steps back around the kitchen island, Harry’s arm extending over the countertop as she tugs his hand along with hers. “Then don’t do me any favours like that, alright?  Can only imagine what you call me when I’m not here.”

A few names pop into Harry’s mind— dream, darling, angel, and countless others that he’s murmured to himself in the privacy of his condo— but they’re tainted by the memory of his friends confessing how they’ve talked about her when he hasn’t been around to hear it.  How they’ve compared her to different foods, used that to reference her, as if that’s all she is to him.  As if she isn’t the only person who has managed to make him feel something in over two lifetimes.

In the rational part of Harry’s mind— which, once again, is sadly not the part of his mind that’s ever in control— he knows that he can’t blame his friends for thinking that.  It’s his own fault for being so insistent on that fact over the last few months.  How many times had they questioned his motives behind his daily phone calls to her, or how often he found himself dropping everything just to spend some time with her?  How many times had he rolled his eyes at their assumptions that he wanted more from the mortal girl than he’d ever admitted?  How many times had he asserted that there was nothing more that she could offer him than her body and her blood?  They’d only listened to what he was saying, despite knowing that Harry’s reassurances were false.  Did any of them suspect that things had changed for him now?  Or did they still think that Harry’s only motivations behind his relationship with Y/N are primal?

Harry pushes the badgering thoughts from his head as best he can as he reaches for his apron that’s still lying over the back of the chair.  He can’t dwell on those thoughts now.  If the turmoil twisting inside of him hasn’t subsided by the end of the night, he’ll call Mitch once Y/N is fast asleep under the extra blanket he keeps on his bed just for her.  Although he doesn’t relish the thought of admitting he was wrong to the likes of Xander or Niall— he knows their teasing and taunting would never end— he can talk to Mitch about it without the worry of judgement.

“Why don’t you put a record on, petal?” Harry asks absentmindedly, nodding his head towards the record player set up in the corner of his living room as he slips his apron back over his head. “I just have to boil the gnocchi, and then—”

“Wait, wait wait,” Y/N cuts over him with an increasingly gleeful expression, rounding the edge of the island again to tug on the strap of Harry’s apron. “Mr. Good Lookin’ is cookin’?” She repeats, unable to bite back the giggles that are rising through her throat. “Please tell me you didn’t buy that for yourself.”

His troubling mindset disappears the moment laughter falls from her lips and echoes around the kitchen. “‘Course I did.  And why wouldn’t I?” Harry simpers as his deft fingers easily secure the ties behind his back in a neat bow. “I’m Mr. Good Lookin’, and I’m cookin’.  S’only the truth.”

“Your vanity is astounding.  Truly.” Y/N trails her finger from the strap of the apron to the pearls around Harry’s neck, stroking the silky stones with the lightest touch. “Like, borderline narcissistic.”

Snaking his arms around her waist, Harry easily pulls the mortal into his body, securing her against his chest just as he had done when she’d first arrived.  It’s comfortable for him to have her pressed against him like this.  The steady rising and falling of her chest and hummingbird beat of her heart against his own unmoving organ keeps him centered, like his own personal lifeline. 

“Is it so wrong to be confident in my appearance?” Harry quirks an eyebrow as his dimples pop from his cheeks, and he slides his hands from Y/N’s back to her ass, cupping and squeezing firmly in appreciation.  His smirk only grows as Y/N’s cheeks begin to boil from the suggestive contact. “How can you contradict me when it gets such a reaction from you?”

“I think that has less to do with your looks and more to do with where your hands are.” She quips dryly, and yet her nails dig into Harry’s exposed collar bones with the slightest of pressure, a surefire sign of just how much his touch affects her.

Harry leans forward as the girl’s breathing grows more erratic, and he nuzzles his nose along hers while keeping the smallest of spaces between their lips. “Either way, I’m getting what I want, aren’t I?”

To his immense pleasure, Y/N’s words are breathy and strained when she replies, a side effect of the shallow inhales her body draws against his. “Which is?” 

“You.  More specifically, you melting under my touch like you just can’t get enough of it.” Harry drags his lips across Y/N’s for no more than a second before continuing his path up her jaw, only stopping when he can feel the flushed shell of her ear beneath his mouth. “You should indulge your vanity a little more often, sweetheart.  S’quite fun, honestly.”

Y/N shivers beneath Harry’s touch, her eyelids fluttering as his cool breath rolls over her ear and down her neck.  Turning her head to the side, she locks her half-lidded gaze with his own before slotting their lips together to indulge in the lingering taste of honey and lavender that sits on his tongue. 

Despite his instinct to draw her closer while curving her body into his own, Harry separates their lips with a gentle nudge of his forehead against her own, his breathing growing just as erratic as Y/N’s.  Control, he reminds himself as heat prickles along his icy skin from the tender pads of Y/N’s hands.  This isn’t like their first meetings, when he could invite her over under a pretense and take her against the counter before they’d even finished their drinks.  This is different now.  She’s different now.

“Why don’t you go put a record on?” He says again, his voice noticeably deeper than it was when he first made the request. “And I’ll finish getting dinner ready. Sound alright?”

Y/N manages to nod without removing her forehead from his, but that seems to be the only movement she makes; her palms remain pressed firmly against Harry’s tattooed biceps, even after he reluctantly releases his hold on her body.  She can’t help it— it feels too good to be so close to the young man to allow herself to willingly walk away.  Something in his presence is so calming, so steady to her, even when he’s whispering obscenities in her ear.

But outweighing the need to be next to him is her desire to make him happy, and if he wants her to pick out a record… “Alright.” She nods once more as her hands slip from his skin, trailing down his forearms and grazing his wrists before falling to her sides. “Any record?”

Harry drags a ringed hand through his curls, his lithe fingers tugging on the locks before falling to his side in a loose fist. “Any record.” He confirms as he reaches for a kitchen drawer, tugging it open to extract a long metal spoon. “Anything you want to listen to.”

He watches as a serious expression paints itself over the human girl’s face, as if the task he’s given her is of the utmost importance.  She turns on her heel and marches out of the kitchen as if on a mission, and as Harry turns towards the now-boiling pot of water on his stove, he knows that his own face reflects a look of fondness.  It’s too easy to let his guard down with her, he thinks as he ladles his homemade gnocchi into the rolling water.  When she looks at him, there’s such an openness in her expression that he can’t help but allow himself to be seen.

But being seen doesn’t always feel so sweet, which Harry remembers the moment he hears Y/N’s melodic voice ring from the living room. 

“When did you get a piano?”

Harry’s hand freezes mid-scoop, the few gnocchi that had been dangling on the edge of his spoon falling into the boiling water.  A bit of the liquid splashes out and lands on his arm, but quickly fizzes to room temperature once it meets his freezing skin. 

“Uh—” He clears his throat as he tries to refocus on his task, but his actions are much more frantic than careful as he finishes filling the pot with gnocchi. “I’ve had it for a while, remember?  I mentioned it to you before.  At the antique mall.”

When his explanation receives no response, he gives his own frustrated sigh, and sets down the polished spoon to retrace Y/N’s steps out into the living room.  As he expected her to be the moment he heard her question, he finds her with a reverent hand tracing the edge of the matte black Steinway grand piano that’s occupied a space in nearly every home he’s had since he purchased it in the 1920s.  Seeing her nimble fingers drift over the hand-crafted edge brings back a hazy human memory to Harry’s mind— a flash of sharply manicured fingers and a strangely pale hand, adorned with an opal ring as they danced over the pianoforte in an opulent sitting room. The sound of tinkling laughter that rang like a bell, pitched almost high enough to make his ears ache, and a soft, hypnotizing voice slathered in the most delicate accent he’d ever heard. 

Harry has to blink a few times to bring himself back to the present.

“What was that, darling?” He hopes his voice isn’t nearly as strained as it feels when he refocuses his eyes on Y/N’s waiting gaze. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said that you told me it was in storage.” She glides over the intricately carved music stand, the digit dancing across every twist and curve of the decorative panel. “Why did you bring it out?”

“Uh, I dunno, really.” An uncomfortable itch settles onto Harry’s skin, his stomach turning as Y/N takes a seat on the creaking piano bench set in front of the instrument. “I just, uh, figured it should be displayed somewhere, instead of gathering dust in a storage unit.  It’s a vintage Steinway, y’know?  Those need to be taken care of.”

In truth, the vintage instrument had rung Harry quite a high bill over the last few decades, not only in the price it cost to keep it in permanent storage, but in the services he’d had done to it once a year to keep it in its nearly pristine condition.  Despite keeping it out of sight to keep it out of his mind, he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let the instrument fall into disrepair, just in case he ever decided to display it again.  Or sell it, as he’d been leaning towards doing over the last few years— a genuine Steinway piano in condition as good as his had quite the high price tag.  But he’d never been able to force himself to part with it, as it looked too similar to the one he had originally learned to play on.  Even though those memories were tainted with the usual pain that came with thinking about his human life, it was still his life, and he ached to hold onto some part of it.  It’s why he had his mother’s ring, and his sister’s earring, and his father’s cross and pocket watch.  It’s why had a small wooden box hidden away under his bed with memorabilia from his first life.  As much as it hurt to remember— and it did, in ways he can’t possibly begin to describe— remembering seems better than the alternative.

“Well, if you want to show it off…” Y/N’s fingers are trailing down the fallboard now, inching their way towards the ivory keys with a daydream-like purpose. “You shouldn’t hide it away in the corner of the room.  It would look gorgeous in front of the windows, don’t you think?  A proper centerpiece.”

It would make a beautiful centerpiece, and he originally intended it to be so after the delivery company had dropped it off at his condo a few days before.  After bribing Adam and Niall with the offer to buy out their bar tabs for an entire month, the three of them had spent the afternoon rearranging the furniture in his living room to display the Steinway in the center of the room.  He’d thought that, knowing how excited Y/N had been to hear him play the piano in the antique store, she’d like to hear him play in his own home, on an instrument he knows like the back of his hand.  He’d even begun kicking around the idea of teaching her a few songs, but those musings had quickly turned sour as the instrument brought back more memories of his foggy human life.  In the end, he’d decided to restore his living room back to its original state with the addition of the Steinway thrust into the corner, where the ghosts of his past could plunk the keys quietly without drawing too much of his attention.  He’d done his best to ignore the instrument over the last couple of days, and in his hurricane of thoughts that had centered around Y/N, he’d nearly forgotten about its existence completely.

He can’t be mad that Y/N is asking about it; after all, he’d brought it out of storage with her specifically in mind.  But seeing the newfound object of his affections with her fingers poised over the keys brings back a rush of emotions he’d been repressing for the better part of two hundred years.

“It—” Harry clears his throat once more, trying to rid himself of the lump that is rising up like bile. “It took up too much space in the center of the room.  Wasn’t very cohesive.”

“That’s too bad.” The mortal girl’s words fall from her mouth in a murmur as her gaze remains locked on the keys, almost as if she’s in a trance.  Her finger begins to press down on the ivory with a slow and meticulous motion. “It seems like such a shame to—”

“Let’s— Let’s not get into that now, sweetheart.” Harry says hurriedly, his fingers catching her own before she can trigger the instrument to make a sound. “Dinner’s almost ready, and you—” He forces a grin onto his lips. “—still haven’t picked a record out.” Threading her fingers through his own, Harry gently tugs the human girl up from her seat on the piano bench. “Would you rather I do it instead?”

As he expected, Y/N wrinkles her nose with distaste as she rises to meet his emerald eyes. “No.” She scoffs as a quiet snort rises from her throat. “I don’t need to listen to some weird experimental 60s music while trying to eat dinner.”

While Harry would normally bite back at her dig, he just responds to her with a thin laugh and a smile without dimples. “Exactly.  So why don’t you pick something out,” He jerks his head over his shoulder to where his record player and vinyls sit neatly on a shelf lining the wall, ignoring the ghastly spike of pain that twinges his neck as he does so. “And I’ll plate dinner, yeah?”

“Alright.” She agrees, and Harry nearly breathes a sigh of relief before she finishes her phrase. “But you’ll play for me later tonight, won’t you?”

The phantom pain grows until it extends down Harry’s entire spine, filling every nerve in his body with a sense of anxiety and trepidation.  The last thing Harry wants to do is move his fingers over those weighted keys, and with the burning sensation now shooting through his fingers, making his hand twitch around Y/N’s, he’s not even sure he can.

But he is sure of one thing, and that’s the fact that he can’t ever seem to say no to Y/N.

“Yeah, dove.  Of course.” Keeping his voice even, Harry pulls her away from the extravagant instrument as inconspicuously as he can. “Later tonight.”

///

There are so many things that Harry has done over the last two centuries that have both angered and confused him.  

He’s held grudges against himself over the way he’s acted, the people he’s surrounded himself with, the people he’s allowed himself to trust, and the blatant disregard for human decency he’s allowed himself to succumb to.  In the last twenty decades, Harry has amassed enough vendettas for fifty lifetimes, let alone the one endless life he’s been given.  And yet, even with all of those missteps in mind, the fact that Harry ever looked at Y/N and deigned her an ordinary human might be one of the biggest mistakes he’s ever made. 

It’s so clear to him now— sitting across from her at his kitchen island, the few scented candles flickering between them doing almost nothing to cover her sugar and flower scent, her eyes reflecting back the burning flames and something else that Harry can’t quite put a finger on— that he’s not sure how he ever missed it.  How had he once leaned against the counter in her own kitchen, looked into those very same eyes, and managed to convince himself that it was only her blood that drew him to her?  How had he listened to her sweet and sensual voice murmur delicate phrases about her day and her emotions, and not realize that he was inching closer and closer in order to hang on every word, as if she had the supernatural ability to compel him as he did her?  How had he seen her in the smokiness of the club, with her fragile skin practically luminescent under the pulsing strobe lights, and thought that she was so utterly unmemorable and unnoticeable that he could easily take her home for one night without anyone wondering about her whereabouts?  How had he convinced himself that it would only be one night? 

There are so many things that Harry will always be angry about, will never forgive himself for, and his initial perception of Y/N is one of them. 

If he has any redeeming qualities, he thinks as he watches the mortal girl spear a bite of gnocchi onto her fork over the rim of his wine glass, it’s that he can, at the very least, admit when he’s wrong.  He can admit to himself that this girl— this self-assertive, stubborn, vivacious, kind-hearted mortal girl— is the most interesting and most intriguing human he’s ever met.  And as terrifying as that is, it’s also a little thrilling; it’s been so long since Harry has felt a pull to someone like this.  The sensation, while unfamiliar and something he’s severely out of practice with, is just as electrifying as he remembers, and now that he’s had a taste of it, he can’t stop chasing that high. 

It’s that undeniable pull which drive Harry to murmur an unauthentic apology about not having a dining table (he’d chosen a larger living room over a dining area when he moved in, and his friends just settled for eating at Niall’s when they wanted to sit down somewhere) because he’s secretly pleased that he has an excuse to sit next to Y/N.  It’s that pull that makes him hang on her every word about her day like she’s relaying the plot of a Greek tragedy, his facial expressions perfectly mimicking hers as she describes the customers she dealt with.  It’s that pull that sends his fingers forward of their own accord to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as the soft melody of Hozier’s “Like Real People Do” floats between them like a comforting lullaby.  It’s that pull that, when she inquires about the entrée he’d prepared for them, causes him to proudly admit that he’d recreated the recipe from Bella Vita after wrestling it from Vincenzo.  It’s that pull that urges him to scoop up one of his own gnocchi and bring it to Y/N’s lips to feed her the first bite of the meal, his hand cupped delicately under the utensil to catch any sauce that might drip onto her shirt (which is really his shirt, and that fact alone delivers so much more pleasure than he ever would’ve thought possible).  

It’s that pull, that adrenaline rush, that indescribable sensation, but underneath it all, it’s her.  It’s always been her, since the moment they’d first met.  From the moment he first laid eyes on her.  How is it, Harry wonders, that his first sighting, enhanced by his supernatural senses, had managed to make him so blind?  How is it that he’d had this girl in front of him all along, and he’d managed to delude himself into thinking that he’d be able to stop himself from becoming vulnerable for her?  And maybe, he wonders slowly as he clears Y/N’s empty dinner plate from the marble island to the sink, he’s still deluding himself, because for some strange reason, being vulnerable for the mortal girl doesn’t seem to be as terrifying as he thought it would be.

The vampire suddenly recalls a specific day all those weeks back, when Y/N had stayed over and they’d taken their first bath together in his jacuzzi. He thinks about how he’d allowed himself to be vulnerable for just a fraction of a second, when he had admitted to her that she often caught him off guard. She had returned the sentiment, and he remembers the words he'd uttered to her amidst the warm steam and quiet splashing of the water. He had said that he found her influence on him— the influence they had on each other— to be scary, but exhilarating. And now, after spending so much time together and allowing himself to grow closer to her than he ever could’ve imagined, he’s come to find that his attraction to Y/N is no longer incredibly scary. Yes, there’s still a sliver of fear in him at the notion of opening himself up to her, but it’s only natural— there isn’t one person in existence who isn’t scared to strip themselves emotionally bare for someone else. However, his genuine excitement soothes his hesitations, and it startles him in a pleasant manner he can’t quite decipher.

Setting the dirty dishes into the sink to be dealt with later, Harry risks a glance at Y/N over his shoulder.  He watches as she wipes the corner of her mouth on a napkin before raising her stemmed glass to her lips, delicately draining the last of the crimson liquid before placing it back down with a clink.  When he catches her sparkling eyes, Y/N shoots him a smile that, even with only one corner of her lips lifted, manages to dazzle him from across the kitchen.  Harry can hear the fresh flush of blood that overtakes her cheeks, as if the wine itself is settling beneath her fragile skin.

Yes, vulnerability should petrify him.  Vulnerability means danger.  It means giving someone the ability to break you, and Harry knows this from firsthand experience.  Harry might be the only monster in the room, but in this moment, Y/N is the ominous threat. She’s the vague silhouette that hides in the shadows, the mysterious mass circling just beneath the waves, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But now that he’s dipped a toe in, Harry can’t stop himself from diving headfirst into those dangerous depths.

“D’you want another drink, love?” He asks, turning back around and leaning his hip against the marble counter as he cocks his head to the side in a questioning manner. “Some more wine before dessert?  Or another cocktail?”

Y/N glances at her multiple empty glasses in front of her, but shakes her head slowly. “No, I’ve had enough to drink.  But I’d love a cup of tea, H.  If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.  A cup of tea, coming right up.” Harry reaches for the sleek kettle that he keeps set on the backburner of his range, flicking on his tap with his other hand before settling the hollow object under the stream of water. “You know, I think this is the first time I’m actually making tea for you.  S’a real treat, isn’t it?” He flashes a toothy grin at the girl before placing the now-full kettle back onto the burner and twisting the knob to high. “A proper cup of tea made by a proper Brit.  Can’t get much better than that.”

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully as she circles her finger around the rim of the empty wine glass, her motions just starting to get heavy with the liquor. “It’s just some dried leaves and water, Harry.  Don’t get too full of yourself.” 

“I think you’re the one who’s usually full of me, aren’t you, pet?” Although his back is turned towards the stove, Harry can hear the effect his words have on the human girl by the small, nearly imperceptible gasp that leaves her lips. “‘M not sure you’re allowed to make that observation.”

Despite the choked feeling that’s welled up in her throat at his comment, Y/N quickly clears it out with a small cough, capturing Harry’s sea glass eyes with her own to stare him down stubbornly. “I’ll make any observations I want.” She says firmly, crossing her arms over her exposed chest in a mockingly angered pose.

A fond laugh rolls from Harry’s stained lips as he opens his cupboards and extracts two tea cups that are painted with vines of wisteria flowers.  He’d found them a few years back at the very same antique mall he’d brought Y/N to, included in a china tea set that he hadn’t been able to resist buying.  The hand painted violet flowers had caught his eye from the moment he’d glanced at the china cabinet they’d been locked inside, and he’d barely been able to tear himself away from the glass case to retrieve the key from an employee.  

He’d always had a soft spot for wisteria; there had been a wisteria tree outside of his childhood home, and he and Gemma used to collect the bunches of blooms and bring them inside for their mother.  That had been a long time ago, of course.  When they were children.  Harry can’t quite remember at what age they’d stopped digging through the garden for flowers— it might have been when Gemma turned eleven, which would’ve made him…. Seven?  Harry frowns at the uncertain memory as his grip tightens around the delicate china cups.  Yes, he reminds himself, he would’ve been seven.  His sister had been four years older than him, and it was around age eleven when she’d declared herself a lady, and said that it wasn’t ladylke to dig through a garden and walk around with dirt under one’s fingernails, and Honestly, Harry, you must wipe your feet before stepping into the house, or else you’ll track mud everywhere—

With trembling hands, Harry sets the wisteria tea cups down on the marble counter, flexing his fingers to get rid of their shakiness before reaching for the respective saucers.  It seems that Y/N’s ability to make him feel more human isn’t just resurfacing the manners and emotions he’d long suppressed, but the memories, too.  How long had it been since he’d heard his sister’s voice ring in his head as clearly as that?  How long had it been since he’d thought of the tiny foyer of his childhood home, which he’d tracked mud into countless times as his mother and, eventually, his sister clicked their tongues at him?  Is the tree still there, he wonders as his thoughts continue to spiral.  Or had it been cut down in the two hundred years since he’d last seen it, long after his family had all… 

Harry places the saucers carefully down against the marble before bracing himself against the edge for just a moment.  Barely thirty seconds have passed since Y/N’s retort, and although his enhanced mind had begun to spiral, it’s not too late for him to give a half-sane response.  

“I know you will, sweetheart.” He finally murmurs, hiding his face as he pulls open his fridge to extract the carton of oat milk he’d purchased last week.  Y/N, he’d come to learn over the last few months, prefers milk over cream in her tea, just like she prefers sugar over artificial sweeteners. 

Harry can feel the burn of her eyes into his back as he extracts a teaspoon from his kitchen drawer and the kettle begins to whistle.  Focusing and relishing in being the object of her attention, Harry removes the kettle from the heat, flicking the stove off before reaching for the canister that stores his tea bags.  In an effort to fully distract himself from the troubling thoughts of his past, he begins to hum the tune to the Hozier song that had been playing earlier, before the record had spun to stop just before they’d finished their entrees.  With the near murmur of the melody reverberating through his throat, he spends a moment debating on whether or not he should use the matching wisteria-adorned teapot that sits on the highest shelf of his cupboard, but quickly decides against it— it’s too formal for the occasion.  But tossing two separate tea bags into the two teacups, he finds as soon as he does it, doesn’t feel right either; after all, he’d told Y/N that he’d be making her a proper cup of tea.  That fact settles the manner in his (moreso than usual) changing mind, and within a few moments, he has the two teabags deposited into the teapot before pouring in the boiling water to steep the satchels of dried leaves.

Halfway through his preparation, his ears had perked up with the distinct sound of Y/N rising from her chair, which had been followed by the muted pattering of her feet against his hardwood floor.  Not bothering to ask where she’d been going, Harry had instead decided to wait for his suspicions to be confirmed.  Sure enough, just as he’s stirring the sugar and oat milk into Y/N’s cup of tea, he hears the quiet press of one of the keys of his piano.  C4, if his aural skills are still as tuned as they used to be.

Setting the two cups of tea onto their respective plates (Y/N’s with milk and sugar, and Harry’s plain), the vampire easily balances both cups of tea in his hands and makes it to the living room without spilling a single drop.

Just like before, Y/N seems entranced by the piano, plunking out different notes and letting them ring into the open air.  Harry can’t help but wince slightly as he approaches— as talented as Y/N seems to be at some things, music theory does not appear to be included.

“Christ, love, a tritone?” He protests, his voice hinging on a whine as he approaches the piano bench. “What, your fingers couldn’t make it a perfect fifth, hm?”

The answer to his teasing question comes in the form of Y/N’s entire body jumping as her fingers stutter over the keys, an audible gasp falling from her mouth while her hand clutches to her chest and her head turns to stare at Harry over her shoulder. “Jesus, you scared me!” She says breathlessly, her palm massaging over her the area where Harry can hear the rapid pulsing of her heart. “Have you always creeped around like that?”

A playful grin tugs at the immortal’s lips as he extends an arm out, handing the china saucer and cup to the human girl. “Only when I’m carrying boiling tea.  Scooch over, will you?” Nudging his way onto the newly unoccupied space of the bench, Harry nods his head towards the keys she had been previously playing. “Was that an original composition?”

“Beethoven, actually.  I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it.” Y/N blows gently over her tea with pursed lips before taking a small sip.  Harry knows that his sister would have condemned the action, along with the following slurp, by calling it unladylike, but the inelegant manner leaves a fond feeling buzzing through his body once more. 

Raising his own teacup to his lips, Harry chuckles quietly over the rim of the cup. “I wouldn’t have pegged it for the classical era, actually.  Sounded more atonal to me.” He takes a small sip of tea, the liquid scorching down his throat in the best way. “You said you took lessons when you were younger, didn’t you?  Do you remember anything?”

“Twinkle twinkle little star, maybe.” Y/N takes another small gulp before setting the cup back down on the saucer. “I was, like, eight.  Nursery rhymes were as far as I got.” Her gaze drops to the caramel coloured tea with a curious gaze; Harry had remembered exactly how she takes it, despite him only having seen her make a cup of tea once a few weeks ago. “But you, on the other hand… Mr. Good Lookin’...” Her lips jolt into a teasing grin as her eyes flicker to the side to capture his own. “You’re quite the musician, from what I remember.  And you promised to play me something.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Harry’s smile grows imperceivably tighter as he takes another drag of the boiling drink, his throat growing thicker with every swallow. “And you still want me to?”

Brow furrowing at his reluctance, Y/N cocks her head to the side in bewilderment. “Of course I do, H.  I loved listening to you play for me at the antique mall.”

Harry thinks back to that day, when he’d stuttered his way through a Chopin piece before his stumbling fingers had given up entirely. “I’m just a little out of practice, love.  It’ll be a bit messy.”

“I didn’t ask for perfection; I asked for you to play.” Her warm fingers find Harry’s upper arm, massaging the tattooed muscles just underneath the tucked sleeve of his shirt as she regards him with wide, curious eyes. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but if you’re nervous because you might mess up… Well, you heard me play.” Her light laugh rings through the cavity of the piano, reverberating off the highest strings in a way that only Harry’s immortal ears can pick up. “I won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Despite his reservations, a half-hearted smile finds its way to Harry’s lips over the rim of his tea cup, which he sets down on the living room side table after taking one last sip.  

Flexing his ringed fingers, he repositions himself on the piano bench, moving more towards the center of the seat as Y/N moves down to the edge to give him full access to the piano.  For a brief moment, his hands hover over the ivory and ebony keys as he evaluates the repertoire he knows he can muddle his way through without too much trouble.  He’s already played a few Chopin pieces for the human girl, so that composer is out.  Liszt doesn’t seem to fit the mood, either, as his pieces are much too ornamented for their quiet living room ambience.  Debussy is out before Harry can even consider him; the last thing he wants to do is invoke any more memories of sitting at a piano with the much too familiar composer.  And Beethoven and Mozart seem too contrived for this setting, as well.

With a frown on his wine-stained lips, Harry spares one glance at Y/N, whose own eyes are glued to his floating fingers.  She reaches out with a tentative touch of her own, gliding them across Harry’s tensed knuckles with a pressure so soft that, if not for the heat of her skin, Harry might not feel it at all.  The cautiousness of the motion is not lost on him— it’s almost as if Y/N is worried that she’ll spook him out of playing, like any sudden movements could break him.  It reminds the creature of the awareness he has whenever he touches her; how he always carefully evaluates the amount of pressure he uses whenever he glides his fingers over her vulnerable skin. 

As if she were a butterfly, he thinks, not for the first time.  His butterfly.

Harry doesn’t remember making the conscious decision to start playing.  He doesn’t even recognize the piece that’s tentatively ringing from the piano until the repetition of the first motive, when Y/N emits a satisfied breath and her warm hand falls back to Harry’s thigh, rubbing gently over his olive trousers with that same delicate touch, almost as if he were a butterfly.

The creature’s fingers continue to glide over the ivory keys, his phrases growing smoother and more confident with every passing moment.  He pays careful attention to the dynamics of the piece, trying his best to recall the sheet music that he hadn’t looked at in decades, but it only takes about thirty seconds for him to realize that it’s easier to just let himself feel the music.  With Y/N’s hand continuing to dance over his thigh in time with the tune, Harry lets himself play around with the score, peppering in crescendos and decrescendos as he sees fit.  He draws out some of the minor phrases, hoping to wrench on his obsolete heartstrings the way he had when he first learned the piece in the early 20th century, and hovers his fingers over the bass notes as he uses the pedal to make them ring out into the living room.  

Halfway through the composition, Harry realizes that he’s breathing with the phrases, timing each inhale and exhale of his lungs with the musical lines.  It only takes him another two measures to realize that Y/N is doing the same, her body leaning into Harry’s as Harry leans into the instrument.  And that, he finds as his jeweled fingers slide over the keys, tugs on his heartstrings more than any melody ever could.

As he approaches the end of the piece, he softens his touch, his fingertips almost ghosting over the keys as he gently presses the final notes.  Harry keeps his foot hovered over the pedal, allowing the quiet cadence to fade to silence in its own time, and as it does, he can feel his body coming back into itself— which is strange, considering he hadn’t noticed the trance-like space he’d slipped into.

Y/N, however, must have noticed, because her voice is hushed and hesitant when she speaks again, waiting until the final notes have completely faded to silence, as if she’s afraid that she’s interrupting something. 

“That was so beautiful, H.” She praises, her hand still rubbing over his clothed thigh.  The motion would normally drive Harry mad, but for some reason, all it does to him in this moment is bring a strange lump to his throat. “What’s it called?”

In his unfamiliar haze, it takes Harry a moment to find his own voice. “Uh, Papillons.” He says through his thick accent, clearing his throat subtly as he lowers his hands to his lap.  He hadn’t even realized they were still lingering over the last notes. “It means—”

“Butterflies.” The mortal girl nods in recognition, a thoughtful look over her face as she taps a finger against his trousers, her tone slightly jesting as she murmurs her next sentence. “I know enough sixth grade French to understand that.  Is it a French piece, then?”

“No.” Harry jerks his head in the negative, only remembering to soften the agitated motion after it’s happened.  He raises his keen eyes to meet Y/N’s, a reminder of where he is.  And a reminder of who he’s with. “It’s the fifth movement in a suite by Robert Schumann— the “Polonaise,” in B-flat major.  S’one of my favourites.”

“I can see why.” Y/N murmurs, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It was wonderful, really.  ‘Out of practice,’ my ass.”

Even with the residual anxiety still coursing through his veins, Harry manages to force out a chuckle at her teasing. “Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are.  But Schumann has always been a favourite composer of mine—” Harry takes Y/N’s teacup from her, noting how her eyes had flickered to the ground, as if she was looking for a place to set it, and she sends him a thankful grin as he sets the cup next to his own on the end table. “—along with his wife.  They were both incredibly talented musicians.”

“His wife?” Intrigue threads through Y/N’s voice as she props up an elbow on the piano, resting her chin on her loose fist as she turns her body towards Harry. “She was a musician, too?”

Harry hums affirmatively as he cracks his knuckles, flexing his fingers in his lap to loosen them from the buzzing sensation that’s still prickling his skin. “She was, yeah.  They had a pretty passionate love story, y’know.  That’s why his music is so beautiful— he wrote it all for her.”

Y/N doesn’t miss the reminiscent tone that seeps into Harry’s voice, and she threads her fingers through his own as her eyes widen with a gentle plea. “Will you tell me about them?  Schumann and his wife?”

“I—” Hesitating at her request, Harry squeezes her hand tightly, half in affection, half in warning. “It doesn’t have much of a happy ending, darling.  A bit of a tragedy, that one.”

“I want to know.” The human girl nods her head stubbornly as her eyes flash with determination. “Just because it has a sad ending doesn’t mean it’s not worth knowing.” 

Harry pauses for a moment, allowing her words to fully sink into his mind and spark the beacon of hope that’s sat coldy in his head for so long. “I suppose that’s true.” 

He mulls over where to begin, thinking back to all the newspaper articles he’d read about a child prodigy in Germany in the 1820s, who was the daughter of—

“So the story really begins with Friederich Wieck.” Harry’s voice falls into a smooth cadence as he begins, thumbing over Y/N’s warm knuckles absentmindedly as he recalls the information. “He was a music teacher, most known for piano, but what he really wanted to be known for was raising a child prodigy.  He had a few children, but the one who filled that description was Clara, his second oldest.”

As Harry begins to spin the tale, Y/N can’t help but focus on his expression.  Although his eyes are set on their linked hands, she can tell that his gaze is far away, as if he’s seeing the scene play before his eyes as he tells it.  It’s fascinating, she thinks, seeing him focus so intently on something as niche as an old love story between musicians, but more than that, it’s new to her.  This is a new side of him that she hasn’t seen before— not cocky, or charming, or playful.  This side of him is intent, as if he wants to make sure that every word he speaks is the truth.  His expression is almost as interesting as the story itself.

“Clara’s parents, Friederich and Mariane, didn’t really get along very well, and Clara had a lot of trouble when she was young; she didn’t really speak until she was four.  But music always came easily to her, which made sense, considering her parents.” Harry’s free hand drifts back to the ivory keys, just resting over the lacquered surface. “Her mother was a musician, too— an accomplished singer.  But after her parents split when she was five, when Mariane had an affair with a family friend, Clara was left with her father.  And her father wanted to focus on her music career.  He gave her hour-long lessons every day, and made her practice for two hours on top of that.  She made her performance debut when she was just nine years old, in 1828, at the Gewandhaus in Leipzig.”

��Okay, wait.  Pause.” Y/N worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she waits for Harry’s faraway eyes to refocus on her confused expression. “What does playing in Leipzig at age nine have to do with a love story?”

An amused laugh slips from Harry’s lips at Y/N’s impatience. “I’m getting there, sweetheart.  A little bit of patience would be beneficial to you, I think.  And a little bit of trust in me, yeah?”

Although she huffs a little bit, Y/N relents, squeezing Harry’s hand in acknowledgement at the phrase he always seems to end up repeating: Trust me. She vaguely wonders why it’s so important to him. “Alright, fine.  Continue.”

“Thank you.” Harry swipes a hand through his tousled curls before settling it back down on the keys, running his fingertips over the smooth surface absentmindedly in the same rhythm he’s swiping over Y/N’s knuckles. “Okay, so… She played in Leipzig a few times that year, and once was at a private music party at someone’s house, where she met Robert Schumann.” At the mention of the name, Harry shoots Y/N an ‘I told you so’ look, which she meets with a roll of her eyes. “He was a gifted pianist, and was so inspired by Clara’s playing that he got permission from his mother to quit his law studies in order to study piano under Clara’s father, Friederich.  So in 1830, Robert moved into the Weick household as one of Friederich’s students, and—”

“Sorry, I— pause again.” Brow furrowed, Y/N’s eyes narrow in suspicion as she mulls over Harry’s words. “So— if Clara was, like, nine—”

“Eleven, actually.  It’s 1830 now, remember?”

“Alright, eleven.  If Clara was eleven… You said Robert quit law school to study music.” Y/N’s narrowed eyes widen as she regards Harry, as if asking him to contradict her suspicions. “How old was Robert?”

“Around twenty, I think.” Harry says casually, lifting his shoulder in a light shrug. “He was born in 1810, so— yeah.  He would’ve been twenty.”

“Twenty?” Y/N yanks her hand from Harry’s as she fully twists her body to face him, as if just hearing the horror in her voice isn’t enough. “He was twenty?  I thought this was a love story?”

“It is!  It’s just—”

“No, it’s not!  It’s gross!” Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Y/N shakes her head harshly, her loose hair spilling over her flushing cheeks. “A twenty year old shouldn’t—”

“He didn’t!  Nothing happened until they were older, love.” Harry captures Y/N’s hand within his own again, smoothing over her knuckles as he hurries to reassure her. “And it was the nineteenth century… a nine year age gap in a relationship wasn’t exactly uncommon.” For a brief moment, Harry wonders what Y/N would think if she knew just how much older he really was than her.  Would she react with the same horrified expression she had now?  Yank her hand from his again as she had just done?

“Yeah, well…” Y/N’s appearance is still bristled as she shoots Harry a condemning look. “There’s a difference between a nine year age gap and a child—”

“Nothing’s happened yet, sweetheart.” Harry bites back the involuntary laugh that bubbles through his chest at the indignant tone of her voice. “Now can I continue?  Or do you want to yell some more?”

Although her response is grumbled, the mortal girl mutters, “Fine.  Continue.” as Harry lifts her knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. 

“Thank you.” He lowers her hand back down to his thigh, smoothing it over his trousers before continuing where he’d left off. “So Robert studies under Clara’s father and stays with them for a year.  And although Clara and Robert were just friends, Friederich could tell that they were becoming close, which he didn’t like.  And before you say anything,” Harry watches as Y/N’s lips twitch into a frown. “It wasn’t because of Robert’s age.  Friederich didn’t want Clara to fall in love with anyone; he just wanted her to focus on her music.  He still wanted his child prodigy, you know?  So he began to take her on tours through Europe.  But by the time Clara was sixteen, it was clear that she and Robert had feelings for each other.  They wrote countless letters to each other, signed them ‘your special friend’... And when Clara turned eighteen, Robert asked Friederich for his permission to marry his daughter.  And Friederich said no, because that would ruin his plans for Clara’s music career.”

Despite her hesitation at the relationship, Y/N still mutters a quiet “Harsh.” at the story.

Harry’s hands return to the keys, but this time, they do more than hover.  He begins to press a few notes slowly, letting one ring out completely before moving to the other, and it takes Y/N a few moments to realize that he’s playing an actual melody, albeit a deconstructed one. 

“Because Clara wasn’t twenty-one yet, they needed her father’s permission to marry, so Robert took the case to court.  And it was…” His fingers stutter over the keys for a moment as his face twists up, remembering how the story had decorated the society pages of newspapers back then. “Messy.  Really messy.  But in the end, Robert won the case, and he and Clara were married.  And they wrote all this beautiful music together…” Harry’s left hand joins his right over the piano, moving with more intention now as he adds a quiet harmony to his slow melody line. “They weren’t good with words, but they were good with music.  That’s how they communicated with each other.  You can hear the love in everything they wrote, the devotion they had for each other.  Listen,” He says in a hushed voice, the melody of the music becoming unbearably sweet. “D’you hear it?”

“I do.” Y/N nods softly, her fingers massaging Harry’s thigh muscle as he continues to play.  It’s not a lie, either; there’s a sincerity in what Harry’s playing that twists within her chest.  

Or maybe, she thinks, her eyes trained in the profile of the man beside her, it’s just Harry. 

“Didn’t you…” Y/N hesitates both in her words and her motions over Harry’s leg as a new thought tugs at her mind. “Didn’t you say the story had a sad ending?  That all seems good, isn’t it?  Clara and Robert got married, wrote music together…”

Harry’s fingers begin to slow down, returning to the reduced melody he’d been playing previously, as if weighed down by the knowledge he’s about to share. “Uh, yeah.  Robert had a lot of problems— mental health issues.  Later in their marriage, he became manic, had episodes where he saw angels and demons… and he was worried he’d hurt Clara.” Harry says quietly, risking a glance at the girl beside him, who’s watching him with such wide and trusting eyes that he almost can’t bear it.  Harry knows what it’s like to fear hurting the ones you care for. “He tried to kill himself, and when he was unsuccessful, he asked to be taken to an insane asylum.  And he never went home again.  He died there, just a few days after Clara was finally allowed to visit.  S’like…” Harry’s fingers pause over the piano once more. “S’like he was waiting for her.  Before going.”

Detecting the emotion in his voice, Y/N raises her hand from his thigh, smoothing back a few loose curls before gently setting her palm over the curve of his neck. “That is a bit of a tragic story, I’ll admit.  To have fought so hard for each other for so long… And then to lose all of it like that…”

“Yeah.” Harry clears the lump from his throat as subtly as he can.  He’s certainly no stranger to loss, to feeling helpless at being unable to save someone you love… He knows that pain all too well. 

As if she can sense the darkness in his mood, Y/N rubs a comforting hand across his shoulder and down his arm, drifting over his inked skin with a warm touch.  Her comment, however, is more lighthearted than her caring caress. 

“I still think the age gap is a little weird.  How do you go from writing letters about being ‘special friends’ to falling in love?”

Harry rises to her baited joke, doing his best to shake himself from his introspective thoughts as his fingers begin to drift over the keys once more.  He focuses on just his right hand now, playing out an absentminded yet tender tune as he speaks. “So if I started to call you my special friend, you wouldn’t like it?”

“God, no— that sounds awful.” Y/N scoffs, her own hand drifting to the ivory keys. “We’re sleeping together, not making mud pies in a kindergarten class.”

Harry’s laugh is more genuine as he begins to slow down his playing, plucking only single notes that Y/N echoes in the lower register of the piano. “Alright, fine.  Not special friends, then.”

“There’s just so many cooler historical ways to say we’re having sex, y’know?  None of that ‘special friend’ bullshit.” Y/N continues to match Harry’s notes as best she can, wincing every so often as she plays a dissonant key. “Like… ‘lover.’  That’s a good one.  Nice and simple.  Or—” Her eyes light up with mirth as the thought pops into her head. “Courtesan to the queen.  Not as simple, but it certainly rolls off the tongue.”

Harry quirks a brow at the suggestion. “And you’ll be the queen in question, I presume?”

“Of course.  Do you have a better idea?”

“‘Paramour’ is a neat little name, don’t you think?” Harry asks, his fingers pressing down a simple perfect fourth on the piano to punctuate his question. “Sounds pretty elegant.  Understated.”

“If you want understated…” Y/N matches the top note of Harry’s interval, already knowing she wouldn’t be able to match the actual notes without hurting both of their ears. “We could do what historians do when talking about ancient queer couples.  Say we’re just good friends.”

The creature hums in acknowledgment at the back of his throat. “We could, yeah.  Or we could be mistresses.   Is there a word for a male mistress?” Harry quirks an eyebrow as his lips pull into a quizzical frown. “A master?”

“Jesus Christ, never refer to yourself as a master again.” Y/N groans loudly, her fingers slipping from the keys as she feigns a shudder. “That just sounds creepy.  Even creepier than a special friend. How about…” She tries her best to stifle a wry grin as a more vulgar alternative pops into her head. “The Whore of Babylon?” 

“Fuck’s sake, what did I say about slut-shaming me?”

“I just thought it’d fit! It has a nice ring to it! But if it really irks you that much— Oh, wait—” She quirks her head to the side, a new wave of amusement lighting up her eyes as she thinks of her next step in their game. “What about ‘special advisor’?  You know, like we’re in a historical drama, and I have a kingdom to defend from oncoming war, and you’re my most trusted advisor, and when my husband is away with the army, you and I sneak off into my chambers…”

Although he giggles boyishly at the suggestion, Harry can’t ignore the twinge of jealousy that shoots up his spine at the mention of Y/N’s— albeit imaginary— husband.  He doesn’t like being referred to as her side relationship, even in an imaginary world of queens and wars.  Even then, he wants to be Y/N’s first choice. 

Because she’s his, he realizes, his fingers continuing to pluck out single ivory notes as a way to deal with the impending ball of tension that’s growing inside his abdomen.  Even in a game, in an imaginary world, in any way imaginable— Y/N is his first choice. 

He just— he wants her, in every sense of the word. And he knows all the reasons he shouldn’t— he knows how reckless it is to allow a human to get so close to him, how he’ll never truly be able to be honest with her, how he’ll always be using her for her blood, how he can’t give her the human relationship she deserves.  But he can’t stop from thinking about Robert and Clara, who fought for each other from the very beginning, who persevered through every challenge thrown their way, and who still only got sixteen years together before circumstance tore them apart. 

Harry is here. He is— for all intents and purposes— theoretically alive.  And the girl he wants more than anyone else is right next to him.  There’s no doubt in his mind that it’ll be difficult, but does he not owe it to those who ran out of time to try?  At the very least? Does he not owe it to himself to fight for the happiness he’s spent so long evading, all out of fear? 

He can manage that.  He can manage his cravings around Y/N enough to take only what he needs, and never anything more.  He can manage his double life and keep her from falling victim to the darkest corners of his mind. He can manage his strength enough to treat her as delicately as he’d treat a butterfly.  He can manage the most monstrous parts of himself.  He can do that for Y/N. 

But only if she wants him to. 

It’s that hesitation that brings a tremor to his hands as they pause over the keys, poised over the lacquered surface that he can barely tear his gaze from. “A special advisor sounds fun, yeah.  Or you could…” Harry clears his throat roughly, sweat pooling across his brow as he fiddles with the opal ring on his pinky.  He twists it back and forth around the digits, only managing to spare one look from the corner of his eye at Y/N’s quizzical face before dropping his stare back down to the piano. 

“Or you could, um… you could just… call me your…” Say it, the voice in his head practically yells. It’s just one word. It’s not that hard. “Boyfriend. You could just call me your boyfriend.”

A heavy pause fills the air in the large room, and Harry feels like he’s being suffocated. His voice grows fainter when he detects the sudden hitch in Y/N’s breath, but nothing else. He finds himself wanting to fill the empty space between them with something, or else he might pass out from the nerves. “If you… If you want, that is.  It would just keep it simple. Plain and simple.”

Plain and simple, Y/N thinks as her hands curl together in her lap, slotting between her thighs as if the pressure of her clamped legs can keep her from feeling how they shake.  It would keep it plain and simple.

But when has their relationship ever been simple?

It should’ve been simple, and the mortal girl knows this.  Two consenting adults, calling each other every once in a while for a bit of release— that’s simple.  That kind of relationship doesn’t have any pressure.  There’s no need to try and impress one another, or to meet any expectations.  That kind of relationship is no muss, no fuss, and no strings attached.  That was how they had started, and it had been simple.  It had been easy.  It had been uncomplicated. 

And it also hadn’t been that way for a long time.

Y/N’s known for a while now that the line between two friends having sex and being in a committed relationship has become increasingly blurred; that was all but confirmed when Harry nearly pitched a hissy fit when he saw her coming home from her date with Jacob.  But even with all of the dates, the gifts, the phone calls during her lunch breaks, the homemade dinners and drinks and desserts, even with all of that— Y/N never thought that they’d actually arrive at this moment.  This moment, in Harry’s apartment, their bodies pressed together on the small piano bench, his fingers fidgeting nervously as hers are pressed between her thighs, with the word boyfriend dangling over their heads like a sword.

She can’t pretend she hasn’t thought about it, because she has.  And she can’t pretend that her thinking about it doesn’t usually lead to her daydreaming about it, because it does.  It’s why she spends the majority of her downtime wrapped in Harry’s rainbow cardigan, and why she’d picked out his button down shirt to wear tonight.  It’s why she’s talked about him to her friends, why she’s begun to speak about him casually to her coworkers, instead of hiding in the storage closet when he calls her on her break.  Because even though they aren’t together— even though they’re friends in the least and seeing each other at the most— it had been nice to pretend that either of them were capable of being more.

Y/N is no stranger to heartbreak, and she’s spent long enough studying her own commitment issues to be able to recognize them in someone else.  Harry had pretty much told her in the beginning that relationships weren’t his thing, that he didn’t want to be defined by a label that could so easily be broken.  And Y/N, who hadn’t opened herself up since Bradley, had been inclined to agree.  Relationships are messy, and labels only bring expectations that would eventually not be met.  Seeing each other is easy.  Seeing each other is breezy.  Seeing each other leaves room for interpretation, for allowances, for excuses to be made if one of them suddenly changes their mind.  Seeing each other is plain and simple. 

Boyfriend.

The truth of the matter is that Y/N shouldn’t be so terrified of such a simple word.  In all forms and fashion, Harry practically already is her boyfriend— he literally calls her his girl during sex, for fuck’s sake. They do everything that a normal couple does, and have been doing it for a while now.  She’s fairly certain that calling Harry her boyfriend instead of the guy she’s seeing wouldn’t actually change their relationship that much.  But if she’s honest with herself, Y/N knows that it isn’t their present day situation that’s sending a cold sweat down her back.  Boyfriends, from her limited experience, lead to fiancés, which lead to husbands, which lead to children and a white picket fence in an unassuming suburb.  That was the exact life she’d come to L.A. to escape— how could she willingly fall back into it?

And then she hears Harry exhale shakily, his thumb fumbling with the opal ring on his pinky, and she knows exactly how she could willingly fall back into it.

This is Harry.  Harry, who tells her the stupidest jokes that can somehow still make her laugh.  Harry, who gives her all of his attention every moment that they’re together.  Harry, who listens to every story about rude customers without complaining once, hanging onto her every word as if what she says matters more than life itself.  Harry, who makes her believe that it does.  Harry, with entrancing emerald eyes, shining chestnut curls, intricately inked skin, and the most comforting arms she’s ever been held in.  This is Harry.  Not Bradley.  Bradley wanted the wife, the white picket fence, the house filled with children.  Harry— as far as she can tell— just wants her.  And she just wants him.

Plain and simple.

Y/N extracts one of her hands from between her legs, snaking it over Harry’s, where she captures one of his fiddling hands in her grasp.  Intertwining their fingers, Y/N fixes her gaze onto his opal ring as she hesitantly swipes her thumb over his cool knuckles.

“Yeah,” She whispers the word, as if speaking any louder could break whatever it is that’s brewing between them. “Yeah, that could work.  I’d really like that.”

The human girl watches from the corner of her eye as Harry’s lips, which he’d been gnawing on nervously while waiting for her response, slowly curl into a hesitant grin, as if he’s nervous to show how anxiously he’d been waiting for her to answer.  He keeps his sea glass eyes glued to their tangled hands, his own fingers contracting to test their grasp. 

Harry knows that it’s selfish of him to be so happy that the girl he cares for is entering into a relationship with a monster.  But seeing as how he’s the monster in question, he can’t make himself feel guilty for it.  All he feels is the elation that’s slowly spreading through his entire body, and the determination that’s chasing it.  He can do this.  He’s strong enough.  He can be strong enough for her. 

“Can I…” His voice is just as quiet as hers, nearly cracking at the end when he finally lifts his gaze to her heated cheeks, wide eyes, and stained lips. “Can I kiss you?”

A tender laugh falls from those stained lips as Y/N combs his curls back over his ear, dragging her thumb over the sharp lines of his jaw. “You do that all the time, so the answer is obviously yes, isn’t it?” She thumbs down the muscles in his neck, until her palm settles over the collar of his shirt to fist the fabric between her grip. “You don’t even need to ask anymore.”

“It never hurts to ask.  And this time…” Harry worries his bottom lip back between his teeth before he soothes the bite mark with his tongue. “It’s different.  We’re different.”

“Not too different.” Y/N leans forward until their noses nudge against each other, their mouths kept apart only by an inch.  She cards her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, twisting the locks around her digits in a way that’s so much softer than Harry thought possible. “Still us, yeah?”

The taste of honey and lavender is so thick on the back of Harry’s tongue that he’s almost choking on it, but he’s never felt less thirsty in his life.  He has this under control.  He can tame this.  He can.

“Yeah.” He inhales deeply through his mouth, as if he were relishing the bouquet without tasting the wine, and slots their lips together with ease. 

Although they’ve shared countless kisses over their months together, this might win the record for the gentlest that they’ve ever shared.  There’s no rush, no animalistic need to pull Y/N closer and tighter against his body.  There’s only her burning warmth, her silky skin, and her sugar and flower flavour washing out the black tea that had been lingering on his taste buds.  Harry has never felt closer to being human again than he has in this moment.  Right now, they’re not a predator and his prey; they’re simply two people who, against all odds, have managed to find each other.  And Harry is owed this happiness.  He knows he is. 

The rest of the night passes in a blissful haze of comfortable domesticity.  They eat dessert on Harry’s couch, feeding each other bites of raspberry sorbet in between giggles and banter.  It’s something they’ve done countless times before, but there’s something different about it now; maybe it’s the fact that Harry knows that Y/N isn’t going to push him away now.  She wants him.  She wants him.  She’s leaning into his touch every time he brushes his knuckles over her cheek, laughing at his poorly-timed jokes, gazing at him through her lashes in a way that stirs desire in the very pit of his belly.  They’re comfortable together, and for the first time, Harry is realizing just how wonderful that is.

It’s the only thing on his mind as they stand side by side in front of his double vanity in his en suite, his gaze tilted to the side to watch as Y/N removes her makeup with some wipes she’d packed in her overnight bag (Harry makes a mental note on the brand so that he can pick them up the next time he finds himself near the drug store).  He’s never had such casual comfort and ease with someone like this before; the last time he’d found himself in a relationship, it had been in a time where maids were required to help lace and unlace corsets and valets prepared him for bed.  There was never a chance to watch as someone he cares for ties their hair back in a loose ponytail before rubbing cleanser into their skin.  He never got to observe the quiet, intimate moments of someone’s bedtime routine.  In the early days of their relationship, Y/N had never had a chance to properly take her makeup off before Harry was tugging her into bed, her lipstick smeared across his face as much as hers.  This is his first time really witnessing that transition, and he likes it more than he thought he would.

There are, however, a few things that he knows Y/N likes before bed, and he gives her a moment of privacy to change into her pyjamas while he makes the quick trip to his kitchen to fill a tall glass with cold water.  He doesn’t need to grab an extra blanket this time— he’d already made sure to toss the knit afghan onto his bed before Y/N arrived, and he finds it draped over her body when he returns to his bedroom.

“You look cozy.” He comments with a fond smile, handing the mortal girl the glass of water as he pulls back the other half of the blankets.  He climbs underneath the covers, propping his elbow up on his pillow as he lies on his side to watch as she takes a sip of the drink. “Y’alright, love?  Need anything else?”

Y/N shakes her head as she sets the glass down on the bedside table and settles back into her pillows, stifling a yawn into the back of her hand.  She always gets sleepy after she has a few drinks, something she’d explained to Harry— much to his amusement— a few weeks prior, after a movie night at her house when he’d made his famous margaritas.  They’d been having a Harry Potter marathon, and they’d barely begun the second before her eyes had started to flutter closed. 

“I’m good, I think.” She tugs the blankets up to her chin, tilting her head to the side to find Harry already staring at her with a soft expression. “Actually…” Extending a hand to him, she lifts her covers off her body enough to indicate what she wants. “C’mere.”

A boyish giggle falls from the vampire’s strawberry lips, and he flicks off the lamp before crawling towards Y/N in the enveloping darkness.  He folds himself right into her side, opening his own arms for her to slide into, but is surprised when her hand finds his shoulder and tugs him closer to her.

Harry takes the hint and hesitantly settles himself onto her own body, allowing the mortal girl to rest his head along her collarbones, his ear finding a home just above her beating pulse.  One of her hands knots itself in his hair, delicately detangling his messy curls as the other finds a home on his naked shoulder blade, rubbing over his defined muscles with the hottest touch Harry has ever felt. 

It’s a vulnerable position, one that Harry hasn’t been in for decades.  And yet, instead of feeling the usual mix of fear and trepidation, all Harry can feel is comfort.  The combined sensation of Y/N playing with his hair and massaging his shoulder is more pleasurable than he ever could’ve assumed.  A month ago, that would have confused him.  But now… he exhales softly as Y/N’s nails lightly scratch along his scalp.  He can be vulnerable with her.  He trusts her.  And, to his extreme luck, she seems to trust him.

A few minutes pass with nothing said between the pair, the silence around them punctuated with only the sound of their breathing and Y/N’s lone heartbeat.  If Harry didn’t know better, he’d think that Y/N had fallen asleep, but his sharp senses know that’s not true; her pulse is still a few beats faster than it normally is, and her breathing hasn’t completely evened out yet.

Sure enough, Harry’s suspicions are confirmed when Y/N whispers into the darkness a moment later, as if she could hear him mentally assessing her body language. “Harry?” Her voice is gentle, halfway between a whisper and a murmur, as if she’s afraid to be any louder. “Are you awake?”

Harry bites back the smirk that threatens to overtake his lips. “Mhmm.” He hums, nuzzling his head further into Y/N’s caring touch. “Still awake.”

She matches his hum of acknowledgement, the pads of her fingers pressing deeper into the knots of his back. “I was wondering…” Her voice thickens with hesitation. “Would you, um, would you sing for me?”

Without completely lifting himself from her chest, Harry raises his eyes to meet her own, her fingers pausing their motions through his locks as he does so. “Sing?” He asks, taken off guard by the out-of-the-blue request. “Y’want me to sing?”

Although there’s a shadow of shyness across her face, Y/N nods slowly. “I heard you humming earlier today, while you were cooking, and it sounded nice, so I was just thinking about it…” She clears her throat nervously, and Harry can hear the wave of blood that rises to her cheeks. “But you don’t have to.  I know it’s late—”

“No, petal.” Harry hurries to ease her, a frown settling onto his face as he hears her breathing grow shallower with anxiety. “S’fine.  No need to get shy.” Harry is amazed at how smoothly the reassurance falls from his lips. “Yeah, I’ll sing for you.  Any requests?”

Despite him telling her not to be shy, Y/N just shrugs her shoulders in response to his question, her eyes locked on the ceiling above them as if she can’t bring herself to meet his gaze.  Harry plants a kiss along her clavicle before settling back into her plush chest, mentally running through the catalogue of songs he’d been humming earlier.  He should pick something soft, he thinks.  Something like a lullaby.

Y/N resumes her gentle combing through Harry’s locks, mostly to distract herself from his thoughtful silence.  She shouldn’t have asked him to sing something— he’d made it clear earlier that playing the piano for people was something that made him nervous.  They’d sung together playfully multiple times, and Y/N could tell that Harry has a pretty voice, but half-singing, half-rapping along to the Hamilton soundtrack is so different than singing to her in the darkness of his bedroom.  She shouldn’t have asked.  In fact, she should tell him to just forget it, and—

“I had a thought, dear, however scary, about that night, the bugs and the dirt.” Harry’s low vibrato echoes around the previously silent room, his voice no louder than a murmur.  Y/N can feel the vibrations of his vocal chords against her chest, a quiet hum that soothes her like nothing else ever has. “Why were you digging?  What did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the Earth?”

Harry clears his throat quietly between the stanzas, his own eyes drifting close.  He’s never been one for stage fright— he’s always been eager to show off his vocal skills, and there’d been a time when all he wanted was to sing on stage in a smoky speakeasy.  But this— singing in the quiet of his bedroom for an audience of one— is more intimate than he’s used to, and he knows if he catches Y/N’s observant gaze right now, he’ll lose his nerve.

“I will not ask you where you came from; I will not ask and neither should you.” Harry tunes his ear to the steady pulse of Y/N’s heart, using the rhythm as a makeshift metronome to keep his time.  To keep himself steady. “Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips; we should just kiss like real people do.”

Harry feels a spike of warmth against the top of his head, and it takes him a moment longer than normal to realize that it’s Y/N’s lips pressing against his hair.  As he continues to sing, she times her caresses of his ringlets with the beat of his words, which he keeps timed with the beat of her heart.  They’re in a cycle, he realizes as he quietly sings the second verse into her skin. She’s lined up with him as he lines up with her.  They’re locked together, steadying the other while relying on them to keep them steady in return.  For the first time in two hundred years, Harry feels truly in sync with someone.

“Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips,” Y/N’s mouth smudges against his temple once more as he nudges his nose along the base of her throat, allowing himself to press his own lips against the satin skin of her chest, just over her heart. He feels like he could stay in this moment forever, which means something given that he truly does have forever. He’d spend every second of the rest of eternity frozen in this instant, if the world allowed it. He’s content, and relaxed, and cradled in his duvet with the one other soul who has somehow managed to thaw the coldness from his stony heart. For the first time in too long, he feels like an actual person again. He isn’t bogged down by his carnal instincts, or by the fear of losing his composure, or by the fact that he doesn’t have a thumping rhythm behind his ribs. 

He doesn’t need all of that because he has Y/N, and she makes him feel more real than all of those aspects ever could. 

“We could just kiss like real people do.”

[jisungsmochi]

just one night - njm

summary: getting wasted at a random party wasn’t on your agenda for your saturday night. but when your best friend’s brother tends to you for the night, one thing leads to another...and suddenly he couldn’t leave your mind. 

genre / warnings: highschool!au, best friend’s brother (oops), slightly suggestive (there is a section where sex is mentioned but it is not detailed at all lmaooo), fluffy, lil angst, i think that’s it ! 

word count: 10.2k (uMMM wow i didn’t expect it to be that long but pls enjoy) 

mini playlist: 

long story short - taylor swift 

love somebody like you - joan 

take me on - joan 

photograph - ed sheeran 

//

your ears were ringing from the intense blasting of the speakers at lee haechan’s monthly ragers. you didn’t know him too well, but your best friend, and platonic soulmate, jisoo, insisted you attend. you assumed it was because she had a growing crush on the party host, despite her constantly opposing the idea.

after taking your first shot of the night, something ignited in you. it had been a while since you let loose and enjoyed yourself. you often placed immense pressure on yourself in your studies, blocking out the outside world when you were in your element. jisoo cheered you on, clinking your shot glasses together as you both consumed the horrid liquid.

as the night rolled by, you had lost jisoo, assuming she was with haechan and the rest of his friends. you started to feel faint, your head whirling, eyes ready to completely shut. you felt yourself land harshly on the nearby couch, the group of teenagers who were seated on said couch, laughed hysterically at your state. you continued to moan and groan, your head pounding along with the beat of the song blasting through the speakers.

you could barely hear anything else, only a soft voice whispering to you,

“stay with me alright? i’ll take care of you”

the voice sounded familiar but you were far too drunk to even bother asking. you felt yourself being picked up, the figure now dragging you out of the house.

“gosh, you two are such a pain” the voice grumbles once again. your eyes started to flutter open, the blurred features of your best friend’s twin brother, jaemin, came into focus. he was visibly annoyed at the sight of you and your better half completely wasted. you noticed that you had been buckled up in the back of his car.

“good, you’re awake, now stay put until we’re home” jaemin sighed, closing the driver’s side door, starting the engine.

you didn’t remember much of the ride home, all you could hear was jisoo ranting about how haechan rejected her moves on him, and jaemin endlessly teasing her. 

you were able to stand briefly as you exited the car, but jisoo on the other hand was utterly hammered. you helped jaemin pull her out of the car and to her bedroom. luckily their parents were away for the weekend, meaning they didn’t have to witness their daughter vomit on her bedroom carpet.

“oh my god, how much did you drink?” jaemin was practically pulling at his own hair. although you were tipsy, you were able to comprehend the situation at hand. you immediately ran to her bathroom, pulling out some cleaning supplies.

“you clean this up while i clean her up for the night”

“fine whatever” the boy rolls his eyes, holding his nose as he begins to scrub the carpet. you made your way over to jisoo, sitting close to her, starting to wipe off her makeup. she had practically passed out by now, only the sounds of jaemin furiously scrubbing and jisoo’s soft snores filled the room. you and jaemin had never really talked while you were over at their house. being jisoo’s day one, you found yourself basically living in her room, yet you couldn’t remember a time you properly hung out or even spoke to jaemin. you looked over at him, his face distorting with disgust at his sister’s mess. it made you chuckle slightly as you finished wiping off her makeup.

“what’s so funny?” he grumbled, walking to the bathroom to dispose of the garbage.

“i guess seeing you clean up your sister’s vomit was something i’d never thought i’d see you do” you shrugged, avoiding his glare.

“oh really? if anything, you two owe me big time” jaemin shuffled over to you, towering over both you and jisoo. your breath hitched once you realised how close he was to you.

“w-why do i owe you?” you muttered, looking up at him.

“because i saved you from embarrassment when others were laughing at how wasted you were” you blushed in embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him.

“o-oh thanks for that then. i uh better get going” you stand up quickly, ready to leave the awkward situation at hand. but jaemin didn’t budge, he remained where he was, causing you to barge into his chest. he found your clumsiness amusing, holding you by your shoulders.

“you don’t seem too good to be walking home, just stay the night. i’m sure jisoo would want you here in the morning” he suggested, as you both gave the sleeping girl a solemn look.

“y-yeah, i guess so” your tired eyes meeting his. you had never been this close  to him before. he stared down at you with his deep brown eyes that were enough to make any girl immediately swoon. but this was totally cliche, falling for your best friend’s brother? please. 

besides, you’d never go for a guy like na jaemin. he was a loner, although he did have a tight knit group of friends, that you knew of. jisoo was the more outgoing and popular one between the pair, sometimes you couldn’t fathom that they were related.

“here, i’ll help you out” jaemin wrapped his hand around your wrist as he pulled you to the bathroom. he began wiping the makeup off your face, being careful to avoid being too harsh. you were practically holding your breath the entire time. why the hell was he being so nice to you? this had to be somewhat weird, right?

“all done, i’ll let you get changed” he threw the wipe in the bin before leaving the room without another word.

you changed into some of jisoo’s clothes, feeling yourself start to sober up a little. there was a soft knock on the door, in which you answered. you were met with jaemin holding two glasses of water. he gently pushed past you, handing you a glass before placing one on jisoo’s bedside table.

“you tired?” he practically whispered to you, eyes not leaving yours.

“uh not really to be honest” you replied, taking a large gulp of water. jaemin nodded, biting the inside of his cheek before suggesting,

“did you wanna hang out for a bit? i get it if it’s weird, i just thought it’d be nice” he mumbled, eyes breaking contact with yours. you had never seen him so nervous before, it was sort of endearing. you nodded, following him to his room. it had been the second, maybe third time you had been in his room. the first time was when jisoo attacked him on the morning of their birthday with some birthday punches. you observed the various decorations he had up on his walls. some random band posters and some photography portraits were scattered all over.

“did you take these?” you questioned, admiring a particular portrait right above his bed head.

“uh yeah, i dabble in photography” he shamelessly shrugs, sitting down on his bed. you look over at him, too nervous to sit down with him.

“so this is kind of strange huh? i mean, i’ve known jisoo for years but i feel like i barely know you at all” you started rambling, slowly moving to sit at the edge of his bed, keeping a generous distance between you both.

“well it’s not like we’ve made any efforts. you two are inseparable, it’s sometimes insufferable being in the same room as you both” he decided to rant, making you giggle slightly.

“i don’t really know much about you though, as an individual”

“ah well there’s not really much to me, all i do is sleep, eat, study and occasionally drink at parties, it’s just an endless cycle at this point” you sighed, feeling yourself inch closer to jaemin, your legs swinging onto the surface of his bed. your shoulders were briefly touching, but neither of you made the effort to move away.

“here i was, thinking you were actually interesting” jaemin smirked, nudging you softly. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, gently shoving him back.

“no but really, there’s gotta be more than that. i mean, i’ve seen you at school. everyone likes you, even the mean teachers. i’ve never seen anyone make Ms Kim light up, even if you were talking about some mathematical theory that no one else understood-“ he stopped himself, looking over at you. you couldn’t believe the words that were leaving his mouth. here you were, believing that he didn’t give a rats ass about your existence but you were wrong.

“so you seem to know me pretty well then” you teased, watching as heat slowly rose to his cheeks. he could barely look at you now.

“but i don’t know the real you” he softly muttered, pulling your eyes back to meet his own. you didn’t say anything back to him. instead you admired how gorgeous he looked under the dim lighting of his bedroom. you weren’t sure if the alcohol was making you act upon this or if you were just caught up in his words, but nothing was stopping you from locking lips with the dark haired boy. it took a moment for him to process what was happening, his hand immediately finding the side of your face, gently stroking it as he deepened the kiss. a voice in your head was telling you this was wrong (probably jisoo’s) but you ignored it. the next thing you knew, you were straddling him, your hands moving to his shoulder as you softly gripped onto his white shirt. he was the first one to pull away,

“should we even be doing this?” he muttered against your lips, pecking you one more time.

“probably not” you smugly smiled, pulling him into you once again. nothing more than a heavy make out sessions with some (possible) groping occurred that night. you didn’t say much to jaemin after, watching as he started to fall asleep. you had no idea what just happened,

did he like you?

did you like him?

you decided to sleep on it, hoping that in the morning, it would have all been some chaotic dream. you made your way back to jisoo’s room, sliding into bed next to her. as you rolled to your side, flashbacks of jaemin’s lips on yours and his hands wandering over you filled your mind.

you remember thinking to yourself, this cannot be happening.

//

the next morning, you were woken up by jisoo’s groaning. she started shuffling, pulling the shared blanket between you both, off of you completely. you decided it was a good time to get up and make your way home. you wrote a note for jisoo to wake up to:

‘hey there, drink this entire glass and take some aspirin okay? i spent the night and will return your clothes soon, rest well! - y/n ‘

you hurriedly grabbed all your belongings that were scattered all over her floor. once you were able to gently close her door without waking her up,

“rise and shine” you jumped at the deep voice behind you.

jaemin has a smug smile on his face, flashbacks of the previous night still lingering in his head. you just froze, your mouth unable to form a proper greeting. he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, a plain white tee and grey sweatpants. his hair was shaggy, random ends were sticking out all over the place. yet you still found him really attractive, wait what?

“i-i’m just gonna head home now, bye bye” you tried to push by him, but he stopped you almost instantly.

“do you wanna go get breakfast?” he suddenly asked, why the hell was he being so nice to you?

“i haven’t brushed my teeth yet, and i’m sure i reek of alcohol or something. maybe some other time” you weren’t sure why you were being so hesitant to spend more time with him. you knew that if jisoo ever found out something was happening between you two, she’d probably freak out and cause a massive scene. you wanted to avoid the theatrics of your best friend as much as possible. even if it meant rejecting one of the most attractive guys at your school.

“so you’re just going to pretend nothing happened?” he let out a soft scoff, in disbelief at your attitude.

“no, i’m not like that. i just- i don’t know what this is. it shouldn’t even be a thing. we shouldn’t even be talking right now” you groan slightly, beginning to walk to the front door. jaemin followed in suit, his figure standing right behind you as you reached the door.

“why are you being like this?” he furrowed his eyebrows, the tiredness in his voice still evident.

“it was my first kiss, jaemin. you were the first guy i’ve ever kissed. and i don’t want it to be weird when jisoo is around. can you understand that?” you explained, guilt rising in your stomach.

“i-i didn’t know it was your first kiss. but if you really care so much about what jisoo thinks of you, then that’s your problem. i’ll just pretend it didn’t happen either” he raised his hands in defeat, reaching over to open the door for you. he leaned closer into you, lips lingering by your ear,

“but i won’t forget about it, no matter how hard i try”

what the hell is this guy playing at?

you broke yourself away from him, rushing out the door, jogging to your house that was just across the road. it’s been a wild 24 hours, all you needed was a nice, hot shower, and to forget that you ever made out with na jaemin.

//

the following monday morning, jisoo came knocking on your bedroom door, waking you up for school. you shot out of your bed, your body thumping onto the ground. jisoo entered your room, and immediately bursted out in laughter.

“god you’re even clumsy when you’re asleep!” she giggled, pulling you up. you just groaned in response, shuffling over to your bathroom to brush your teeth.

“anyway, you are in big trouble” the energy in the room just dropped. you looked over at her, worried about the words that would leave her mouth.

“jaemin told me everything” she continued, making you want to shit your pants even more.

“w-what did he say?” you spat out the toothpaste that was in your mouth, eyes now focused on your sink.

“he said that he saw you wearing my new pink pajama bottoms!” you sighed in relief, thank god.

“i know that we have a bestie code and take eachother’s clothes a lot! but i just bought those and i hadn’t had a chance to even wear them yet” jisoo pouted, folding her arms before huffing. you shot her an apologetic smile, finally finishing washing up before you made your way over to her. you handed her the neatly folded clothes beside your bed,

“i’m sorry, they were the first thing i saw! i’ll buy you something from the canteen. can i be forgiven?” jisoo pretended to think, before pulling you into a short hug.

“ah of course! now get ready for school, i’m going to raid your pantry” she skipped her way out of your room. you let out another sigh of relief, not realising that your hands were shaking the entire time. why didn’t jaemin just expose you both to jisoo? maybe he was a man of his word.

you walked through the hallways, jisoo right by your side. your eyes were practically scanning for any sign of jaemin. according to jisoo, he hangs out with his ‘loser friends’ behind the science block. she always assumed they were doing something sketchy there, but you had never seen it for yourself.

“i-i gotta talk to Ms Kim about the quiz, i’ll see you during our free period” you lied through your teeth, but luckily jisoo thought nothing of it, you were always meeting with Ms Kim about your grades anyway.

you cautiously made your way to the science block, eyes still on the lookout for na jaemin. you saw one of his close friends, jeno (?) but there was no sign of him. maybe he didn’t even hang out here, you were about to give up and go back to your own friends, when you heard the familiar voice call out to you,

“y/n? what are you doing here?” jaemin made his way towards you, catching the attention of his entire friend group.

“i-i was looking for you” he immediately perked up. you knew he was about to say something cheesy, but he stopped himself.

“why didn’t you tell jisoo about what happened saturday night?” he pursed his lips for a moment, thinking of what to say.

“i didn’t feel like it was any of her business. it’s between us” he smirked at the last part, making you stomach feel uneasy, but sort of in a good way.

“i’m sorry for rushing out that morning. i just felt really awkward about everything. i don’t want you to think you’re like a bad kisser or anything like i actually quite enjoyed it” you stopped yourself from rambling any further once you saw how amused he looked. god he was gorgeous.

“you can keep going, i like hearing you talk about me” oh this was bad.

“s-so what? do you like me or is this all fun and games to you?” you tried to get to the bottom of this whole mess.

“i do have some interest in you, yes. i wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you more often and kissing you again” he shrugged, still showing off the same smug expression.

“same here” you blurred out. you brought your hands to cover your face, you couldn’t believe you just admitted that to him.

“then i guess i’ll see you around then. jisoo doesn’t have to know” jaemin slowly backed away from you, eyes still wandering over your figure. was he really checking you out right now? infront of his friends? you wondered how many other people saw you two.

to say that you didn’t think about jaemin for the rest of the day was a complete and utter lie. as soon as you got home, you couldn’t get him out of your head.  

//

you were finishing up the last bit of maths homework for the night, when you heard something tapping against your window. you assumed it was some bird that was pecking at the window sill like many others had before, but as you stepped closer, jaemin’s shaggy black hair came into view. you quickly opened your window, dragging the taller boy into your room, careful that your parents wouldn’t hear.

“are you insane or just dumb?” you scold the boy who was dressed in a baggy black hoodie and those same grey sweatpants from saturday.

“both? i couldn’t stop thinking about you” his lip cocked into a smirk as he stepped closer to you, hands now rested at your waist. you were caught up in how good he looked, especially at this time of day. you didn’t realise how strange it was that he literally just climbed through your window with no prior warning. you pulled away from him slightly, still reserved about whatever was going on between you both.

“look, i just wanted to hang out with you, i swear! i would invite you to mine but your bff would just hog you the entire time” jaemin let out a soft grunt, slipping off his shoes and making himself at home on your bed. you moved to the empty spot next to him, letting him pull you in by your waist as he smoothly linked his fingers with yours.

“this just seems like it’s going really fast. can we just slow down for a bit? i mean, we don’t really know eachother that well yet” you explain, resting your head back on your headboard. jaemin looked over at you, admiring how the loose strands of your messy hair were sticking in all sort of places. and how your glasses were slowly slipping down your nose but you were too lazy to push them all the way back up. you were wearing your classic plaid pajama set, which jaemin found absolutely adorable. he reached over to your face, pushing some hair strands aside before gently pushing your glasses back up.

“well what do you wanna know then?” he whispered, aware that your parents probably wouldn’t want to walk in on their daughter with a boy in her bed.

“have you always, like thought of being friends with me?” you thought it was a dumb question to say out loud but jaemin seemed to be hesitant to answer, only making you more curious.

“i- honestly, yeah i have. i actually remember the first time i met you. i was with jisoo and we saw you sitting on the swings on the playground at school. we were kids back then, all we wanted to do was make friends. i was the first one to suggest we go over together, but then jisoo beat me to it” he stopped momentarily, looking over at you once again to see if you were still listening. you gently squeezed his hand that rested so perfectly in yours, as he continued,

“as any other ten year old boy would do, i just shrugged it off and found my own little group. i know this doesn’t really answer your question as it was a long time ago. but since you and jisoo clicked, and you started hanging out more, i couldn’t help but think, what would happen if i went up to you first?” you nodded along at his words, finding his way of storytelling so compelling.

“even if you approached me first, we both know that jisoo would have tried to snatch me in an instant” you both let out soft chuckles, both agreeing that jisoo was quite a character. “but after all these years, you’ve barely acknowledged me. i actually thought you hated me at one point” jaemin’s mouth opened as if he was about to speak before closing it slowly. he thought hard about what he could say to impress you,

“i never hated you. i just never got a chance to speak to you personally. jisoo was always there, and if we start dating or liking eachother, it’s probably going to get worse” jaemin admitted. there was a certain degree in which you understood what he was saying. but if you both ended up having true feelings for eachother, who was jisoo to stop you?

“y-you think we might end up dating?” you couldn’t hide how giddy you felt, leaning in closer to him, your noses gently brushing against eachother. jaemin smiled widely, his heart beating erratically. sure, he’s kissed other girls and even dated some, but none of them could compete with how flustered you were making him right now.

“i-i mean yeah, i don’t see myself with anyone else at the moment” jaemin whispered against your lips, slowly closing the gap. you moved your hand to rest on his shoulder as he glided his own hands to cup the side of your face. everything was so natural with him. you didn’t have to be nervous, or second guess yourself around jaemin. he made you feel safe, comfortable, like you meant something to him. things started getting heated when jaemin started rubbing small circles on your thighs, his lips still attached to yours. you weren’t sure how far he was going to go tonight, but your mind was clouded with how good it felt to kiss him again. jaemin’s lips started trailing down your jaw, to your neck, before you interrupted,

“h-hey, taking it slow, remember?” he immediately stopped, eyes filled with list as he looked up at you.

“anything for you, baby” he mumbled, placing one last kiss to your cheek. you both ended up chatting the rest of the night, telling stories from your childhood to the horrors of puberty. despite the fact that you both had school the next morning, you didn’t want jaemin to leave, and neither did he.

//

“i have a proposition for you” jisoo exclaims, pulling you along as you walk through the local shopping mall, in need of some retail therapy from midterms approaching.

“what is it now?” you playfully roll your eyes as sip on your bubble tea.

“i’m going to set you up on a date!” she practically squeezed you so hard you almost choked on the boba.

“w-who? what? when? where? why?” you couldn’t believe her sometimes.

“it’s with renjun, you know, the guy in our bio class. anyways, he’s recently single, you’re just single. and i think he’d be a good match for you!” she explains further, as you both take a seat on a nearby bench in the middle of the mall.

“what makes you think he’ll even be interested in me? did you threaten him or something?” you give her a subtle glare, still recovering from your choking experience.

“well i saw him looking at you a few times during class, so he must think you’re pretty at least” her logic never failed to entertain you.

“i’m not interested in dating anyone at the moment, please don’t tell me you already set it up” she looked over at you with a soft smile, moving strands of her hair behind her ear.

“god you already did” you groan in frustration. jisoo saw how annoyed you were. you know she had good intentions but you were capable of getting a date...if you really wanted one.

“i’m sorry, i just thought it’d be cute, you know since he’s friends with haechan and you know i have a crush on him. so i thought we could all hang out together!” she started babbling, but somehow you understood it all. you were going to do this for her, and her only.

“okay fine, ONE date, and it’s a group one” you firm with your best friend as she nods in compliance.

here goes nothing.

//

the evening of the double date, you were getting ready in your room. what were you even supposed to wear? your thoughts were interrupted by repetitive taps on your window. you glance over, seeing jaemin’s fluffy hair peek through the glass. you giggle lightly at the sight, rushing to open your window to let the poor boy in.

“hey, you won’t believe what just happened, jisoo is freaking out beca- woah, you look, uh really nice” jaemin stops himself, taking a moment to admire your look for the night. you felt your cheeks heat up immediately, turning away from him to hide them as best you could.

“t-thanks, why was jisoo freaking out?” you tried to draw back to his sudden outburst.

“oh yeah, she was asking me what boys liked, and if i thought haechan would like her back. ahh it was hilarious, she’s a nutcase” jaemin chuckled lightly, flopping himself on your bed, eyeing you closely.

“she’s just nervous! we’re going on a double date” you didn’t get to continue, as jaemin practically leaped from your bed, over to stand infront of you again.

“a double date? who are you paired with?” jaemin furrows his eyebrows, a wave of worry just washing over him within the past ten seconds.

“don’t worry, it’s just with renjun, a guy in our bio class. i’m only going to calm down jisoo, i’m sure renjun is a nice guy but-“ you hesitate, taking in a short breath before continuing. jaemin has his eyes fixed on you, listening to ever word that strung from your mouth.

“but what?” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours.

“but he’s not you” you finally felt a weight lift off your shoulders. your words only made jaemin confirm for himself that he was so completely into you. without another word, he pulled you in for a warm embrace, placing small kisses on the crown of your head.

“that’s all i needed to hear, have fun tonight. let me know if an SOS situation occurs, jisoo can get full on with her crushes” jaemin pulls away from you, fixing bits of your hair that be accidentally messed up.

“you say that as if she isn’t my best friend” you roll your eyes, allowing him to pat down strands of your hair as gently as he could.

“well sometimes i forget. you’re just that amazing, jisoo needs someone like you. i need someone like you” jaemin finishes what he was doing, his hands now moving to cup your face, softly squishing your cheeks together.

“let me know when you get home, i’ll come over and we can uh, lock lips” he started making loud kissing sounds, only making you push him away from you in embarrassment.

jaemin seemed fine with the idea of you going on the double date. you would assume so, considering you indirectly confessed to liking him. you just had to get through tonight, and then you and jaemin could continue whatever, odd friends with benefits but not really, relationship you have.

//

“so y/n, how did you do on the last bio exam?” renjun tried to make small conversation with you, trying to avoid the constant chattering of your friends. you appreciated how considerate he was being, considering you barely knew him or haechan.

“i think i did okay! how about you?” you continued, taking a quick sip of your strawberry milkshake. you were all sitting in a random diner that haechan recommended. you’d think after one game of bowling, a walk through the local park, and dinner at this diner, that they’d all be tired. but no, you forgot how energetic your friend was, and renjun was slowly starting to realise the same thing.

“the last few questions were challenging, i’d be lucky to get one of them right” you both chuckled softly, your eyes diverting to jisoo and haechan who were too caught up in their own world.

“did you want a ride home? i’m 99% sure haechan is going to offer to walk jisoo home” renjun offered, reaching for his car keys. you hesitated for a moment, nudging jisoo softly as she just waved you off. you rolled your eyes, opting to interrupt her conversation.

“renjun’s taking me home, let me know once you’re home okay? and haechan, make sure she’s safe” you sternly point at the cheery boy, who just nodded. you walked with renjun to his car, hopping into the passenger side. the ride was fairly quiet, he didn’t try to force any awkward conversation into you, thank god. all you could think about was going home and seeing jaemin again.

as he reached your house, you quickly gathered your things, ready to bid him farewell.

“thanks for agreeing to go on this double date. i had fun, i hope you did to. maybe we can do this again sometime, but maybe just us...” renjun stooped you from leaving the car. you widened your eyes at his words, was the really asking you out right now?

sure you thought he was a nice guy, but the ‘date’ didn’t seem much like a date to you at all.

“i-uh i had fun tonight, but i’m....actually seeing someone, i’m sorry” you quickly blurred out, even more shocked at your own words. renjun’s mouth was slightly agape, not expecting that answer at all. he pulled himself together, shaking off the entire situation.

“it’s okay, i understand. have a nice night” he gave you a small smile, but you knew it was filled with shame. you didn’t know what else to do but signal him a small wave as you exited his car and walked to your front door. you felt guilty for lying to renjun, but it wasn’t a complete lie. you started replaying the whole scene through your head. as you entered your room, you were met with jaemin looking all cozied you in your bed. he had an oversized hoodie on, with some plain grey sweatpants.

“ah you’re home, i queued up some videos to watch!” jaemin made his way over to you, pulling you in a for a tight hug. and just like that, all thoughts of renjun just washed away. jaemin was your person, one day you’ll be able to tell the whole world. but right now, you were happy with keeping it your little secret.

//

“what’s this i hear about you telling renjun you’re seeing someone? who the hell is it? because surely they have to be able to top this perfect dude i found for you” jisoo starts ranting on your way to first period the following day. your mind was still foggy, memories of the night you spent with jaemin, floating through your head.

“i-i just wasn’t interested in him. or anyone for that matter, it was a little white lie” you shrugged, trying to drop the situation completely. but she wasn’t buying it at all.

“there has to be someone, the last thing you are, is a liar” jisoo furrowed her brows at you, giving you a playful stank glare. you broke eye contact with her, rushing ahead to get to your class so she couldn’t pester you anymore about this situation. unfortunately, you felt your barge against someone with a very hard chest, they didn’t even flinch. you looked up to apologise, the playful glare of jaemin meeting your eyes. you quickly stepped back, pulling yourself together from that embarrassing scenario. jisoo ran up to you, softly giggling, before you saw her face fall at the sight of her brother.

“ugh it’s you” she scoffs, making sure you were okay.

“oh don’t act so happy to see me” jaemin sarcastically responded, eyes only fixed on you as if he has tunnel vision.

“leave poor y/n alone, it’s bad enough she has to see you when she comes over, don’t make it hard on her here” jisoo teased, pulling you away from him slowly. but jaemin quickly caught onto your arm, leaning down to your ear,

“i’m very sorry, y/n”

he had a hint of mischief in his voice, that you hoped jisoo wouldn’t catch onto. all you could do was not a mumble that it was okay, before jisoo completely pulled you away from him. seeing him at school everyday, while keeping everything a secret, was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

why did he have to be so alluring? so enticing? all you wanted to do was sit with him and talk for hours on end. maybe share a few pecks here and there, but as days went by, jaemin would engage in lengthy conversations with you. he would tell you about how spoilt and bratty jisoo could get, and how their parents would push jaemin aside, and support jisoo in all her studies and other extracurriculars, but they couldn’t even attend one of his photography exhibitions at school. he confided in you deeply, telling you things that no other soul would know. you didn’t know why he just lets it all out to you, but who were you to oppose? you loved listening to him talk as he played with your hair. you loved his lame jokes and stories about detention. you loved when he talked about his photography, how passionate he was whenever he talked about capturing the most beautiful moments through his lens. everything about na jaemin was close to perfect. you just wished you could call him yours, officially.

//

jaemin: meet me out front in 20 mins, i wanna show you something

your face contorted into a mix of confusion and excitement. you pulled on your most puffy winter jacket and some black boots, before slowly creeping out your front door to meet jaemin across the road. he was leaning against his car, dressed in a white hoodie with a leather jacket over it and some plain black jeans. you embraced him in a warm hug, as he chuckled into your neck and how adorable you looked in your puffy jacket. he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before opening the door for you, you kindly accepted, hopping right in. you noticed he had a suspiciously packed duffel bag in the back of his car, what the hell was he planning?

“so you’re gonna tell me why we’re going out at 11:30 at night? if you wanted to make out, we could have just done it in my room, my parents aren’t home, we don’t have to be qu-“ you were interrupted with his lips on yours, like many times before. his cold hands reached to hold your face, causing you to jump at the sudden touch. he stops kissing you momentarily, shooting you a smirk before continuing. as much as you were enjoying it, you were still curious as to where he was taking you.

“jaem, seriously, where are we going?”

you pulled away, lips slightly swollen. jaemin wiped his thumb gently over your lips, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes.

“we’re going somewhere i like to go when i need to clear my head, or just be alone. i wanna share it with you” your heart swelled at his words. how was he this perfect?

as he started the car, his hands immediately found its way to hold yours. your fingers instantly linking.

your eyes switched between focusing on jaemin, to your window. you weren’t really used to going out so late at night, never having a reason to. being with jaemin, made you feel like you were finally able to escape from everything else, even if it was temporary. there was a stillness in him that no one else was able to give you. he made you feel like you were doing okay, that you were going at a steady pace in life. jaemin was comforting to you, you wanted nothing to disturb this peace.

jaemin parked the car, tugging on your hand that you had arrived. you observed your surrounding immediately, where the hell were you? all you could see were trees and shrubs, as well as a gravel trail leading up a fairly large hill.

“you’re not gonna like murder me or something, right?” you cautiously asked, pulling your jacket to wrap around you tighter. jaemin chuckled at your words, pulling his fully packed duffel bag over his shoulder as he made his way over to you.

“don’t worry, baby. you just gotta trust me” he placed his free arm around you, leading you both up the hill. as you reached the very top, jaemin set down his bag. he pulled out a small picnic blanket, along with his camera equipment. you took a moment to grasp the view. it was a mini aerial view of your small neighbourhood. although it wasn’t a view of the entire city or pretty bright lights, you understood why he liked to come here.

“so this is my spot. i usually sit, take some photos and uh write in my journal” he sits down on the blanket, signalling for you to join him. you plop down right next to him, leaving no space between you. he pulled you closer, if that was even possible, his arms linking around your waist.

“it’s really pretty up here, thank you for sharing it with me” you leaned your head against his shoulder.  as you were admiring the view, jaemin was admiring a view of his own. your hair was slightly messy, the soft breeze blowing your baby hairs in all sorts of places. your glistening eyes observing the view that jaemin sought for comfort. but he found his new comfort place. and it was with you. wherever he was, if he had you beside him, he knew everything would be okay.

“why aren’t you saying anything?” you gently nudge him,

“i just like the quiet” he pauses for a moment before suddenly reaching for his camera. he removed his arm from your waist, which made you feel slightly empty inside. but he made up for it when he started fiddling with his camera, pulling it up to face you.

“oh come on, stop it” you hid your face with your hands, pulling away from him. jaemin moved his camera down, revealing the most adorable pout you had ever seen. you couldn’t resist his charms.

“ugh fine” you slowly pulled your hands away, allowing your lips to form a small smile as jaemin snapped the picture.

“you look gorgeous, as always” he mumbled to himself, not thinking you would hear him, but you did. the rest of the night was spent taking as many photos as jaemin wanted.

he was attempting to take a selfie with his camera, claiming the quality was much better than your measly phones. he held the camera up slightly, fitting both your faces in the frame.

“okay, three, two, on-“ you leant closer to him, placing a quick peck on his cheek as the camera flashed. his eyes shot over to you, a mischievous smirk washing over his face.

“you think you’re slick?” he mumbled, capturing you in another kiss, carefully discarding his camera to the side as he slowly moved his lips against yours. you felt yourself lean back under his grip, your back now laying on the blanket completely. jaemin leant over you, pulling away for a short moment,

“i-i think i love you” your eyes widen at his confession. love?

you hadn’t put too much thought on how you really felt towards jaemin. you knew you had formed a crush on him since day one, but love? you weren’t even sure you knew what love was. jaemin noticed how nervous you were getting, immediately becoming concerned.

“i-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have put that on you, i’m such an idiot”

“no, it’s okay, jaemin. i just don’t know what it’s like to love someone, like how you say you love me” you admitted, his face still inches from yours, you hands now rubbing over his arms. jaemin nodded, completely understanding how you felt.

“but loving you, isn’t something i see as impossible. i’m falling for you everyday, i’ll say it back when i know i’m ready” you assured him, watching as his eyes glided over you. he couldn’t believe how unbelievably incredible you were. how you were able to accept his confession. jaemin was confident that you would return his feelings. he couldn’t wait for the day you would confess your love for him.

“you’re amazing” you blushed at his words, pulling him down to lay next to you as you wrapped your arms around him.

“thankyou for tonight, this can be our thing” jaemin couldn’t argue against that. this was now officially your spot. that would never change.

//

at the na family home, jisoo was furiously searching for her usb drive that contained the video for her audition for the school’s upcoming musical. she pulled at her hair, letting out multiple huffs and grunts. her thoughts led her to her brother’s room. luckily he was currently out with his friends, doing who knows what, otherwise she would have been dead. she sorted through his desk, assuming he may have taken it by mistake when she left it on the dining table the previous night. there were stacks of random papers scattered on the boy’s desk, she was slightly appalled at how unorganised he was. after a solid minute of shuffling, the bright yellow usb stick came to view. before she picked it up, a sudden notification appeared on jaemin’s laptop, he must have forgotten to properly shut it off. jisoo ignored it at first, until she noticed the all too familiar contact name.

y/n?

why on earth were you texting jaemin?

jisoo felt sneaky, already snooping through her brother’s desk, only leading her to his precious laptop. if jaemin caught her right now, he’d be furious. but jisoo couldn’t get over her growing curiosity, moving her fingers on the trackpad to open your messages.

y/n: hey, could you send the photos from a few nights ago?

jisoo furrowed her brows for a moment, what photos were you talking about? she swiped over to his desktop, a folder titled ‘special moments’ already opened. it was mainly filled with jaemin’s photography assignments and other things he found intriguing, but the last thing she expected to find, were multiple photos of her best friend and her brother on a date. she scrolled further, eyes landing on the photo of you kissing jaemin’s cheek.

‘are you fucking kidding me?’ she whispered to herself. it all started making sense to her. jaemin constantly sneaking out of the house on numerous nights, you avoiding her nightly facetime calls. how awkward you two would act at school, how you rejected renjun, claiming you were seeing someone else. jaemin was that someone else.

“what the hell are you doing on my laptop? or in my room, for that matter” jaemin exclaimed, storming to his desk. jisoo glared at him, bringing her right hand to slap him harshly on the shoulder.

“how could you?” she gritted through her teeth, pointing to the laptop screen. jaemin held his arm in pain, looking over to what his sister was so mad about.

“we- i didn’t want you to find out like this, i swear” his voice softened,

“you mean you didn’t want me to find out at all, did you?” jisoo couldn’t hide the fact she felt betrayed by the two people she trusted most in the world.

“i thought we were closer than that, jaemin. you used to tell me everything. and out of every person in the world, you choose my best friend?” jisoo still couldn’t fathom the thought of you together. in her mind, you were her friend first before you were jaemin’s girlfriend.

“not everything revolves around you, you know? i’ve been going through shit and you haven’t noticed in years! y/n is the only person who listens to me and makes me feel like i actually matter” jaemin practically shouts back at his sister, causing her to tear up. “and if you hadn’t noticed, we’ve been together for a while, i even told her i loved her” jaemin’s delivery for the last line ended in a sudden whimper. jisoo couldn’t believe what she was hearing, was she really that naive?

“you love her? did she say it back?” was all she managed to say.

“she hasn’t said it back to me yet. she’s scared, i know she is. she’s scared of what you’ll think” jaemin shuffled over to sit on his bed, feeling himself cool down from the confrontation. jisoo softly sniffled, remaining completely still.

“i can’t do this, don’t hurt her, jaem. she’s never been inlove and i don’t want you ruining her first love experience, she deserves so much better” jisoo scoffs, grabbing her usb in a hurry before slamming the door behind her. jaemin couldn’t believe his own sister would presume such cruel things about him. but he knew it was only a matter of time before it was your turn to get the heat.

*incoming call from nana <3*

“oh hey! did you get my text?” you started the call, gently folding your clothes from the wash. jaemin coughed slightly, unsure of how to bring up the conversation. you halted your actions before asking,

“are you okay? do you want to come over?” you quickly became concerned.

“she knows, y/n. jisoo knows. she was snooping on my laptop and found the photos. i’m so sorry” your heart sank at his words. you felt like your whole world was turning upside down. of course you knew that she would find out one way or another. but at such a critical stage in yours and jaemin’s relationship, the timing was just not aligning. you knew that jisoo lived for the drama and theatrics of things, expecting her to blow up the entire situation.

“was she pissed?” you nervously gulped, not ready to face the fury of your best friend.

“yeah, she said some things to me, i-i’m fine though. i just wanted to give you a heads up. i didn’t mean for this to happen” jaemin groaned, pulling at his hair as he thought of ways to soothe the situation.

“i’ll try and talk to her, i guess the truth is finally coming out” you sighed, immediately worry washing over you. this wasn’t good.

//

you hadn’t heard from jisoo in almost a week. to say you were worried was an understatement.

nana <3: uh she wants us all to meet, preferably at our house. she doesn’t seem too mad?

y/n: fingers crossed, i’ll be there in 5

you wiped your palms over your leggings, feeling your hands shake in anticipation. the walk over to the na’s house seemed like a lifetime. you were greeted by jaemin, who avoided pulling you in for a warm embrace like he usually does when you see eachother. he led you to the living room, where jisoo stood, her arms crossed over her chest, an unreadable expression on her face. you cautiously took a seat on the opposite side of where jaemin sat on the couch. jisoo’s glares flickered between the both of you, unsure of how to begin.

“i have gathered you both here to discuss this little...relationship, between you both” she started,

“is it even a relationship?” you looked over at jaemin who was already looking over at you. you had never put any labels on whatever you and jaemin had.

“w-we’re not dating” you mutter, eyes avoiding those of your best friend.

“then what? friends with benefits? have you guys screwed eachother?” she continued to hound down on the details. jaemin noticed how uncomfortable you looked, he needed to just be honest.

“no we haven’t screwed. we made out on the night of haechan’s party, the one where you were knocked out drunk. we brought you home and we found ourselves hanging out together for the night and we kissed. it started from there and we’ve just been seeing eachother regularly ever since” jaemin summarised, hoping it would  bring ease to her mind. jisoo was stunned, so it had been months since it all started.

“but you told me you loved her. do you love him back, y/n?” jisoo’s voice suddenly softened, allowing you to finally look at her.

“i-i do” jaemin’s eyes shot towards you instantly, a soft smirk growing on his face. jisoo’s mouths slowly widened, this was the first time you had admitted you loved somebody in the entire time she had been friends with you. jisoo moves over to sit between you both on the couch, leaning back slowly.

“why couldn’t you guys just be honest with me?” she sounded hurt at the thought of you both not trusting her. you held her hand in yours, noticing how she seemed choked up about everything.

“we just didn’t know how to tell you. especially since we hadn’t made things official yet” you explained, signalling jaemin to jump in.

“we wanted you to know when we both knew that we loved eachother and it wasn’t going to change” jaemin assures his sister, practically pleading for her blessing and forgiveness.

“i-i’m sorry for blowing up at both of you. and i’m sorry for ignoring you, y/n. it’s just so weird, the idea of you kissing my brother” jisoo started fake gagging, causing jaemin to give her a stank glare. you laughed softly at her antics, pulling her in closer to you.

“we didn’t want to hurt you, or make you feel like we didn’t trust you. we just needed time together” you continued to explain, jaemin nodding along.

“y-you guys actually don’t seem too bad together. as long as you’re both happy, i guess i’ll be happy for you too. just, no making out infront of me, please?” after hearing those words, you and jaemin tackled jisoo in a fit of tickles and hugs. her giggles and pleas to stop echoed through the house. everything felt like it had been restored in the world. everything was aligning for you and jaemin to finally be together.

//

that night, you left their house with the biggest smile on your face. jisoo was already knocked out on the couch after you three decided to rewatch all the high school musical movies. jaemin slowly crept you out of the house, grabbing your hand in his. he offered to walk you home, despite it only being barely a minute away.

“tonight was really nice, thankyou” you whispered to him softly, pulling yourself closer to him as you both stood on your front porch.

“s-so you meant what you said? you love me?” jaemin’s eyes met yours as he nibbles on his lip anxiously. you held both his hands in yours,

“of course i do. i love you, jaemin” you finally said it out loud to him. jaemin immediately picked you up in his arms, swinging you around gently before placing endless kisses all over your face.

“does this finally mean you can be my girlfriend now?” he stopped kissing you, his lips only inches from your face. you felt his breath fan over your cheeks, letting out a soft giggle. you enthusiastically nodded, pulling his lips onto yours. jaemin was taken by surprise, but he surely wasn’t going to complain.

“can i spend the night?” jaemin muttered against your lips, your eyes slowly opening to see his pouty expression.

“finally, you can come through the door for once” you both started laughing, rushing you to your bedroom where jaemin helped you remove your jacket. he pulled you gently over to your bed, slowly kissing your lips as gently as he could. you found your arms wrapping around the back of his neck, playing with his hair. jaemin let out a short grunt,

“don’t do that” he mumbled, moving to kiss your cheeks.

“why not?” you whispered, continuing your actions,

“because you shouldn’t start something you can’t finish” he admitted, pulling away from you. you held your breath before you spoke. you hadn’t gone further than some heated make outs sessions with jaemin, you always stopped him when you felt uncomfortable. but right now, it felt right.

“i-i want to go further” you finally admitted, watching as jaemin widens his eyes. he did not expect that from you at all.

“i do too, but uh contrary to popular belief, i’ve never done...it before” jaemin confesses, pushing someone strands of hair from his own face, feeling his cheeks heat up.

you had always assumed he wasn’t a virgin due to a lot of baseless gossip from kids at school.

“really? that’s...great” he looked at you with the most confused expression you’d ever seen.

“i-i mean it’s great because i’m a virgin too” you started to giggle in order to diffuse the tension between you both. jaemin let out a sigh of relief, you truly were the most person person in the world for him.

“so you’re okay with this?” he wanted to affirm once again, earning another enthusiastic nod from you, “yes”

let’s say, the rest of the night took your relationship to the next level.

//

“come on, you two! we’re going to be late!” jisoo hurriedly scurried around the house, looking for her new boots. you all were heading to another one of haechan’s parties. his reasoning was for the ‘mid semester break’ which really was just a long weekend but no one bothered to question him. jaemin opted to be the designated driver, like he always was.

“so are you going to make a move on haechan or what? it’s been months” you slightly teased her as you all entered the car.

“n-no, i can’t flirt to save my life. after the double date, he and i barely talked” jisoo huffed, fixing up her makeup.

“i’ll just have to have a chat to him then” jaemin chimed in, cheekily grinning at the thought. you knew he was going to be up to something, but jisoo decided to ignore her brother’s words, too caught up in her own mind.

as the three of you entered the house, haechan shuffled to greet you all. jaemin met him first, giving him somewhat of a bro hug, followed by you who loosely wrapped your arm around him. once he got to jisoo, he paused, causing her to look up directly at him. he softly chuckled before pulling her into his chest, making you and jaemin snicker in delight. you agreed not to drink much tonight, not wanting a repeat of the last time you got drunk. but jisoo on the other hand, was a complete mess as per usual.

“i’m gonna get some water, want one?” you offered to jaemin as he slowly allowed you to pull away from his warm grip.

“sure, love” you blushed at the nickname he gave you, rushing to retrieve the drinks. as you were in the kitchen, you heard a familiar voice next to you,

“y/n? hey how are you?” renjun’s voice chimed through your ears. you greeted him with a bright smile, slowly fading as you remembered the last time you properly spoke to eachother.

“i’m doing well, and you?” you continued the conversation, sipping on your own cup.

“yeah i’ve been good. you here with anyone?” he asked cautiously, but before you could answer, jaemin cut in,

“she’s with me” you felt his arm wrap around your waist, leaning over to grab his cup. you weren’t sure of what else to say, only able to look at renjun who seemed dumbfounded and a little embarrassed.

“oh, i see. you’re with jaemin, i should have known. have a nice night” renjun scurried off to meet his own friends, wanting to avoid you at all costs.

“you didn’t have to say it in that tone, you know?” you turned to face your boyfriend who had a playful grin on his face.

“i know, it just came out that way, i promise” he brushed his fingertips over your cheeks, making your face slightly heat up.

“jaemin!! y/n!! there you are!!” jisoo ran up to you, grabbing you into some sort of side hug. you helped hold her up as jaemin analysed how drunk she was.

“are you alright?” you questioned, trying to find a seat for her to rest. jaemin followed in suit, watching over the both you closely.

“yes! i’m great! haechan kissed me, well i kissed him and he kissed me back!” she started giggling. you both weren’t sure if she was being delirious or not. until haechan came to meet you all, asking if she was okay.

“she’s had a crush on you like forever you know?” jaemin teases, causing jisoo to slap his chest. haechan started blushing, slowly nodding,

“i-i’m aware. she’s pretty cute” he smirked, watching as jisoo hid her face in your shoulder.

“we should actually get her home to rest, and stop her from embarrassing herself further infront of you. but call her in the morning, yeah?” jaemin shook hands with the other boy, hooking one of jisoo’s arms over his shoulders and you copied with her other arm. haechan led you to the front door, bidding you all a goodbye. jisoo was mumbling endless compliments towards haechan, too drunk to even care what she was saying.

“like i wanna kiss him so bad and run my hands through his fluffy hair” she giggled as jaemin started the car. you both found the entire situation entertaining, recording bits of her rambling for future blackmail. as you reached their house, you helped jaemin lead her to her bed, much like the first time. once jisoo was tucked safely in bed, finally fast asleep, you changed into more comfortable clothes before hopping into jaemin’s bed.

“i’m getting some massive déjà vu right now” he teased, jumping right next to you as he pulled you to his side. you softly played with his hands as you placed small kisses over his knuckles.

“i’m glad you were there to look after us that night. otherwise we’d never be where we are now” you muttered, feeling frostiness slowly taking over.

“i’m just glad you’re here right now. i’m too used to climbing through your window. maybe you should come through mine sometime” he joked,

“i think we should start getting used to front doors don’t you reckon?” you retorted, causing him to pull you on top of him.

“don’t be such a smart ass” he mumbled before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. the rest of your night consisted of endless rambling and chatter on the most random topics, before you both fell asleep.

being jaemin’s girlfriend was always a secret fantasy when you were kids. but now you were wrapped in his arms, all you could think about was how happy jaemin made you. you were grateful to find someone who understood you, someone who cared for you, someone who gave you comfort. being inlove with na jaemin made you feel on top of the world. And if you’re lucky, if you’re the luckiest person on this entire planet, the person you love decides to love you back.

a/n: not the one tree hill quote as my finishing sentence oops 

[almondmilks-posts]

Schlatt- executed pt2

*I am so proud of part 1

pls go show some love

Maybe a SERIES?? Maybe pt3??? Maybe some more angst?? Maybe some cute fluff with glatt?? Maybe idk if you would like to see more uwu

This took so long omg... I'm sorry

Context: in part 1 you became ghost!y/n much like Ghostbur  you forgot most of your memories including your death...

Life after death was weird. You had very vague memories of each member of the sever but other than that you completely forgot about your past life including how you died. You never expected that you would become a sentiant ghost on the server after death you also never expected Wilbur to become one either so here we are. You took a great liking to Ghostbur as he did to you, you both hanging out became a regular occurrence on the SMP you mainly liked hanging around quackity he had these homely vibes to him that made you want to be around him but you were not quite sure why although he had been seeing you less and less and when you did meet he seemed on edge always looking behind him, shaking his head off to the distance when you turn around, nothing.

You didn't know why Ghostbusr was obsessed with the colour blue, always handing out lapis lazuli to saddened goes by with a "here have some blue" but he always did. You guys can't mine down in the caves something about bedrock pressure?  but he always had stacks of blue on him at all times.

You- hey bur where do you get the blue from?

Ghostbur- oh uhhh umm I just have it sometimes I get it from Phill

You- oh cool. I want something I'm not sure I've decided on what...

Ghostbur- hmmmmm y/n how about

You- I know red mushrooms because they look so cool like lil toadstools.

Ghostbur- yes that's such a good idea

You- I need to ask Phil to see if he has any spare mushrooms adiós bur I'll see you later.

You began to float your way over the the snowy tundra that Phil resides in. You passed many different landmarks on your way only knowing by the names you and ghostbur had given them. Home home also known as the community House although in ruins after it was exploded by puffy. You did try to stop her however your attempts were unsuccessful. 

You- omg I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going here look I have some seeds take this as a sorry

You were in your thoughts so much that you had phased into a body. As a ghost you are able to phase through people However you phased into the body meaning whoever you walked into was not alive. You reached your arms into your pockets to see what you have as a sorry before the mushrooms which you still haven't been managed to find any. Thecno needing them for potions ofc knowing the butcher army was coming for him he planicked stealing so many resources including some of blue from Wilbur accidentally. You found three seeds in your pockets your had picked up from when you were hanging around Callahan (he's my fav on the SMP omg) and punz this one time just giving while punz went on a nether mission for ghast tears. You extended your arm out to the person, lifting your head up to look the person in the eyes.

Glatt- y/n?

He had Horns. Deep black horns protruding out the side of his head. His skin a pale grey ash colour, contrasting his flaming red eyeballs which looked down upon you due to the height difference. His suit a very dark grey almost black but not quite,  You looked at him than back at the seeds. He seemed like he didn't take any interest in taking the seeds from you as a sorry, you furrowed your eye brows at his sort of question? You really didn't remember your past life, thecno told you that most ghosts don't when they die the ones that do are 'poor damned souls of wrong doers' comforting you that you did some good when you were living.

You- uhh sorry I don't know a y/n?? Im ghosty/n! Well it would make sense that I'm y/n well was y/n hahahaha I don't remember much from my past life unfortunately

Glatt- you don't- you don't remember how you died do you?

You- uhhh no? Should I? I ask quackity you know quackity right? Small guy, blue beanie anyway he wouldn't tell me how I died he said it was a too long to explain anyway I gotta go bye uhhhh...

Glatt- oh it's glatt

You- well nice to meet you glatt if you see Phill tell him I need some red mushrooms

And with that you floated off on your mission to find some red mushrooms. Glatt stood there face slashed red. He felt embarrassed? Sick to his stomach? He wasn't quite sure what he felt, quackity had told him of your ghost life when he was pestering quackity this one time however he was scared. He was once a ruthless tryrant president drinking all day and all night because he couldn't handle the power and disappointment of his peers knowing he was struggling being president so he turned to alcohol. He was so plastered when he stabbed you he didn't even know what he did until quackity and Niki Walked out on him with some fruitful words.

Schlatt thought back to when quackity had confronted him, carrying your enchanted diamond boots Phil brought on your wedding day and never took them off since. Quackity looked so hopeless his eyes filled with tears, trembling hands as he screamed at schlatt so hard his vocal cords never recovered even after all this time and everything he's been through. Despite this he carried on trying to ruin quackity's life. Even after death the fucker never lost his need for power and bullying quackity is all he knew how. The issue was he could not find the small mexican, he floated all through what manburg was, he floated past the church, the target, the community house but no sign of quackity. He was searching through the community house for anything he could steal just because 'he was glatt he could do what he wants'; as a ghost he really didn't change. A fit of giggles rung through his ears, he hadn't heard that noise in years. Glatt knew that it was you of course you were married for several years before the incident. He caught himself smiling as he once did to see your face (which could easily fit between his larger hands.) He floated across towards where the noise would come from. To see you, a blue sheep with a wonkey eye and Wilbur? He felt anxious, his ghost heart started beating faster, if he wasn't dead he would be having another heart attack right now that would actually kill him. He wasn't sure of it was because you look so happy contracting the last time him saw your glum face as the XP dropped or knowing Wilbur might still be bitter about the election or what happened as a result of it.

You toyed with the blue sheep known as friend. Friend was the first thing ghostbur saw when he woke up as a ghost so there was a major bond between the two,.you would argue it was a closer bond than what tied you with Wilbur but nothing could compare to that. You both had years and years of history some even before Tommy was born but you both just didn't know that. (maybe pt3 y/n becomes human??) Friend was very entertaining for a blue sheep fried could make you and ghostbur cry with laughter but just standing there. ( Ok this is my HC so it's not cannon but I think it should be) The blue sheep had a lazy eye, so for long enough if the sheep did nothing the eyes would travel opposite directions as per usual you and ghostbur were dying over this. You bent down to pick at a blade if grass to feed to friend when a glum feeling came over you. Were you being watched? You wanted to cry, so you turned your head to Look at the assailant to see glatt standing there just looking at you or through you it was unclear.

You-oh hey uhhh glatt? Ah yes I'm right would you like to come hang out with friend, ghostbur and I would love it if you joined us and I'm sure friend doesn't mind you do you? No you don't because you are a cute sheep boopboop

Glatt- I'm not so sure

You- oh come on don't be such a killer it would be fun friend is very well friendly haha come on.

You grasped his cold wrist with your much warmer hands. The size difference between the two contrasted immensely. You blushed, a warm feeling coming over you almost as if you had known him for years. Which y/n did but you didn't know that.  Schlatt frowned at you calling him a killer, did you know? Did Wilbur tell you? A lot happened to manburg after you had died, stuff you missed that you could and would have stopped. You dragged schlatt closer to where friend was excited Wilbur could meet your 'new' friend glatt.

You- hahah bur meet glatt

Ghostbur- oh uh hey glatt nice to meet you, your a friend of n/n's huh?

Glatt- uhh yea something like that

Ghostbur- oh crap! I have to meet with Callahan (he's my fave member) I'm helping him build a forest, well you guys have fun with friend. And glatt? Its nice to see you again.

And with that he floated away from the pair riend looked at schlatt than back at you, than back at schlatt. Its pink tounge slipping out of its mouth. Glatt looked down at you sitting cross legged on the grass petting friend. He thought you looked beautiful with the sun on your ghostlike form, he felt shame wash over him he really ruined you.

You- sit next to me glatt, the sun isn't that bright down here

Glatt- no I don't want to get my suit dirty!

You sighed, why was he so cold? Was it that he didn't like you, was it the fact that he didn't like friend no that's not true everyone loves friend. You frowned over thinking lots of things glatt noticed your frown after he yelled at you; he felt worse that he yelled. Many nights after your death did he think about you and his actions. He numbed the feeling penultimately resulting in further alcoholism and finally his death. He kept your diamond boots in his desk draw so they could be next to him at all times he even picked up some of your XP but that stuff didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered to him. Expect you. He never was good at expressing his feelings to you, and you never pushed him to do that.

Glatt- do you seriously not remember your past life?

You- hmmmm not much

Glatt- what do you know tell me?

You- well, I don't really remember memories it's more feelings and smells towards something? Like Niki I feel very calm and peaceful around her she smells like bread, Wilbur it's like he feels like a brother to me and he smells like gunpowder almost, ummmm who else? Oh Tecno smells like potatoes I'll tell you about that some other time

Glatt- what about me? What do I smell like ( Father Fragrance??)

You- ummmmm it's a weird metallic smell? At first I was like iron smell but I'm not so sure. I was super anxious when I first saw you almost hmmm anger? Fear? But I also wanted to give you a hug it's weird what about me... Your a ghost I'm sure it's the same for you it is for wilbur... What do I smell like glatt?

Glatt- uhh well, it's metallic aswell

You-oh heyy look it's ranboo, Ran heyy look down here? Ranboo? Oh no he's enderwalking again ok well this conversation isn't over glatt

You followed the half enderman who appears to be on his enderwalking state. You don't say much to him as you know he won't hear or respond to you. You follow him past twitch prime, past the portal near to the prison? Confused you stood behind him a little, why was he going to the prison? To see Sam you hope...

But no. He didn't.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

OBEY ME! LESSON 55 DETAILED SUMMARY AND DISCUSSION/THEORIES

*I wrote this days after the lesson was first posted and never bothered to go back and edit it so meaning there will be me theorizing about the next lesson as well

*I write a small para for each chapter and I write it immediately after finishing that chapter so there’ll be theorizing about the next chapter too

*I swear more than usual here

*Some of the dialogue is heavily plagiarized and a few is lifted directly from the story, the game is to figure which is which.

*Summaries and Discussions/theories for all the other lessons can be found on this blog under #obey me spoilers or #my theories or #my headcanons

OKAY! So first off the background for this is absolutely gorgeous and shows a real demon. You know the kind you’d imagine an actual demon to look like and everything’s dark (black, grey, brown) there’s a castle on a mountain like area with a narrow suspended pathway leading to it, there are crows flying around and a person in a robe pointing what looks like a lit wand at a snarling attacking demon, there are skulls and what looks like weapons on the ground and my favourite part: a person in a long robe, kneeling on the ground, covering the top of their face with their hands and wailing to the sky. It’s all tailor made to my taste and I love it! There’s one locked lesson.

It’s breakfast time and Asmo & Beel are heading to an all you can eat global sweet sampler, MC questions it and Asmo says you can get desserts from all over the world there and Asmo’s hoping to live stream it. Asmo invites MC but Mammon interjects asking them to come see “cute horsies” with him. “’Horsies.’ He’s so pretentious. Shut up, it’s the fucking horse race. ‘Horsies.’” Says Levi. Levi invites MC to a real life TSL themed escape room (that sounds really fun tbh), Satan invites them to come watch the sci-fi movie they were talking about, in their home theatre. (he’s actually watched it 3 times already but he read online theories about it and now he wants to see if he can catch the basis for those theories in the movie). They all start arguing about it (except Beel who’s just eating) when MC gets a text from Diavolo congratulating them on their 5th star and wishing them luck for the other 2 and inviting them to an amusement park date. Everyone – MC included – is kind of baffled by the one on one date with Diavolo. They ask any of the others if they want to tag along but they all refuse but Beel asks if MC can take Belphie along since he hasn’t really left the house in a while and Beel’s worried. MC texts asking if they can bring Belphie along too and Diavolo says the more the merrier and I just know this is gonna end in disaster like did Belphie ever even resolve all the problems he had with Diavolo back in S1?

Beel drags Asmo along to wake Belphie up because a.) he doesn’t want Asmo to leave to the sweets thing without him b.) they need all the help they can get to wake him up. MC suggests using force and Asmo happily volunteers to grab Belphie, turn him over and drop him on the ground, Beel says they can’t do this to poor Belphie cause Beel’s a sweetheart, and says the most force he’ll allow them to use is by tickling Belphie, which Asmo then does. It doesn’t work so Asmo says if they’re gonna use force they should do something like this right before he screams “ASMO DIIIIIIVE!!!” and jumps on top of Belphie as Beel protests and I love that despite what you’d assume from his aesthetic and despite what Asmo would like you to believe he’s a lot more rough and tumble and violent (I just really love the sweet with hidden edges trope as much as I love the jerk with a gooey centre trope). Belphie says ow and Asmo brightly and sweetly cheers that he woke up as if just seconds ago he hadn’t used a wrestling move on his sleeping baby brother. Beel says that though Belphie’s body is awake his mind isn’t (relatable), Beel fixes Belphie’s bedhead and Asmo complains that Belphie’s a stereotypical spoilt brat youngest child and says that Diavolo obviously would’ve wanted a one on one day with MC. Beel says he knows and it’s another reason he wanted Belphie to go. Asmo agrees saying that after everything if MC chooses their boss over any one of the seven guys MC actually lives with it’d feel wrong. Asmo tells Belphie to keep an eye on them and not let it turn into a “whirlwind romance”, Belphie just asks for his pillow and Asmo’s upset cause he doesn’t feel confident about the plan now. Poor Diavolo being constantly cockblocked

On the way Belphie complains about being forced to do this when his schedule is just as busy but MC says all he does is sleep and he says because naps are important to him and he takes them seriously. He wishes he could go back home and asks why of all the demons he had to be stuck with Diavolo (so guess those issues are still around good to know). MC asks if he still dislikes Diavolo cause of his fondness for humans and Belphie says he’s fully gotten over that whole human genocide phase which is great to have confirmed. They ask why he dislikes Diavolo – lots of reasons. He always thinks he’s right and expects to get his way about anything and everything and never listens to anyone’s opinions. He hadn’t bothered to listen to Belphie back when the exchange program had been proposed and Belphie was against it (and I mean to be fair back then Belphie was 100% okay with killing the entire human race for no reason other than the fact that he blamed them for Lilith’s death when really they had nothing to do with it and it was definitely the angels’ fault. I mean I don’t think I would have listened to him either and he really does have the spoilt youngest kid personality. I think out of all the brother’s Belphie’s the one who has the fondest memories of the Celestial Realm – probably helped by the fact that Lilith was still alive then – which is why he never blamed them for what happened and instead directed all his anger at the humans) Lucifer hadn’t let Belphie plead his case (what case Belphie!? That all humans should die!?) and that Diavolo’s surrounded by demons like Barbatos and Lucifer who shield him from criticism (and yeah I agree that this is true and that it’s a bad thing but Lucifer wasn’t shielding Diavolo from criticism when he refused to let Belphie plead his case, he was protecting Belphie cause if Diavolo found out Belphie wanted to kill humans he would have thrown him in jail like he did back at the end of S1 and MC you dumb fuck can you pls tell all this to Belphie) and that Diavolo doesn’t understand that he’s been saved from criticism and Belphie hates that about him and he shudders at the thought of spending the day with Diavolo. On the way they run into Simeon and tell him where they’re going, he says Luke’s been wanting to go there since he saw a ad for it and MC says they could take Luke along with them but he says Luke’s at a cooking class today but that he’d probably love to hear about it when he gets back. Simeon then takes off saying he has a meeting. Belphie goes to call after Simeon to tell him something and catches a glimpse of the person Simeon was supposed to meet. He’s surprised and says “Is that…” and when MC asks what’s wrong he said he must have just imagined it and that the person Simeon was meeting just looked really familiar and HOLY SHITTTTTTT GUYSSS rfhiefjoSJKWDLDADJSJ was I right are we really gonna get to see angels???? That’s the only explanation, right? It would have had to be Michael or even Raphael and there’s only a few lessons left and this and the next lesson are probably gonna focus on Diavolo and Belphie’s relationship and following the patter MC should get their 6th star next lesson, then the two lessons after that will be their final exam for the 7th star and then the last two lessons will focus on saying goodbye as the brothers go back to the Devildom and all that’s gonna have a lot going on but if they’re teasing the angels being here now could they manage to slip them in or will that be too much? I mean they’ll be introducing a whole new (or two whole new) character(s) and ahhh I’m rambling but pls I need the tension and angst between them and the brothers ok I’m done.

When they get there Belphie complains about how crowded it is and MC tries to look for Diavolo to which Belphie points to a group of fangirls surrounding Diavolo. Diavolo answers them sweetly and one of them says he’s even better looking irl and another shyly asks if he wants to walk around with them. Belphie cuts that short by barging in and asking Diavolo what’s going on, Diavolo happily greets Diavolo and one of the girls realises that Belphie called Diavolo ‘lord’. Diavolo apologises to them and said he’s already made plans with friends (and ugh he’s so sweet I love him just wanna give him a big hug I bet he gives great hugs), the girls are very understanding and sweet about it and they leave. Belphie’s a lil shit and says “Aww, too bad, Lord Diavolo. I’d hate to interrupt just as they were hitting on you…” and Diavolo laughs it off saying it wasn’t like that (and can Diavolo not understand sarcasm or does he just ignore it? Both seem highly likely) Belphie disagrees and says they were clearly hitting on him and Diavolo changes the subject and says he can’t believe Belphie actually came, MC explains why and Diavolo says it’s understandable that Beel was worried after Belphie hadn’t left the house in a week (Me, who hasn’t left the house in almost a year: :’) ) Belphie says he knows Diavolo wanted a date with MC but too bad cause now Belphie’s gonna third wheel them. Diavolo tells Belphie not to be ridiculous and that he’s happy that Belphie came (and the thing is other than a small twinge of disappointment this is probably the truth). Belphie says that it probably won’t be a good idea to go around calling him “Lord” Diavolo given the way the girls reacted, Diavolo says he can just call him by his name since he wouldn’t mind but Belphie says he himself would mind and anyway if Lucifer or Barbatos found out Belphie wasn’t using his proper title they’d kill him. So Belphie suggests a nickname which Diavolo’s really happy about and MC suggests DD (they can also suggest John or Cap’n), Diavolo adores it and asks them to call him it all the time hereafter (I want to give him a hug so badly). Diavolo then happily and with lots of exclamation points goes on to say that it’s time to let their hair down and that Barbatos had made minute to minute schedule for them to follow so that they could enjoy the park to the fullest and Belphie says he wants to go home

Diavolo keeps unsuccessfully trying to get Belphie to wear a themed headband and take a group photo, saying he also wants to wear the headband on a boat ride and the ferris wheel. Diavolo gives MC sad puppy dog eyes (which I’m sure he uses successfully on Lucifer regularly, but that don’t affect Barbatos at all) and MC can’t refuse, asking Belphie if there’s anything that’ll get him to change his mind. He says no but he’s not stopping the others from doing it, Diavolo says since they’re here as a group they all should do it, Belphie snaps saying he doesn’t like how Diavolo’s using MC as a tool to bend Belphie to his will and he says he’s going home. Diavolo tries to stop him but he marches off and Diavolo drags MC off to chase after Belphie. Diavolo grabs Belphie by the arm outside the park and begs for a chance to apologize, Belphie denies it and tries to free his arm. Diavolo refuses to let him go saying he should have listened to and considered Belphie’s opinions now as well as in the past, Belphie’s shocked and MC asks Belphie to just hear Diavolo out. He agrees but tells them not to have any expectations of what this’ll accomplish.

Belphie says he doesn’t want to wear the headband or take pics and that he’s only gonna ride what he wants to, Diavolo agrees with all that. He asks if Belphie will stay with them and Belphie agrees and Diavolo is just so brightly stupidly happy and I can completely understand how he was able to make Lucifer question his entire world view. Diavolo’s so happy he starts waving Belphie’s arm around unconsciously and then asks Belphie what rides he wants to go on as they make their way back inside, Belphie doesn’t answer instead he’s blushing and annoyed and asks Diavolo to let go of his hand. Belphie wants to ride ‘The Twisting Freefall of Death II’, MC & Diavolo would like to not freefall to their death thank you very much. Belphie quotes the ride as being, “the single most terrifying experience in the world where you’ll scream for mercy and receive none” Diavolo says, “Did you say scream for mercy…” Belphie happily agrees. Diavolo turns to his last hope, MC, and asks how they feel about this. I like to imagine that even MC has a line where their lacking self-preservation will kick in. Belphie just smiles saying it won’t actually kill them (this would have been more reassuring coming from someone who didn’t once murder MC but whatever.) They can also ask Diavolo how feels about it. After the ride Belphie’s cackling loudly and gushing about how great it was. He’s especially happy about the look on Diavolo’s face during the ride, saying he’s never seen it before (probably the look of a demon praying to God for mercy). MC can say that Belphie seemed to be having a lot of fun, cheer how the ride was the best or say they thought they were going to die. For the 3rd option Belphie very cheerfully says MC’s alive and ok. Belphie asks Diavolo how it was only to realise Diavolo’s missing. He fell off the ride at its highest peak. He’s dead.

They’ve tried texting Diavolo but he doesn’t read them. Belphie wonders what kind of person actually gets lost in an amusement park unless they’re 5. Then he says “…is that what it is? Is he actually 5 yrs old?” He remembers that mammon got lost in a park once too and says the only thing the two of them have in common is that they’re both basically children, They then run into my favourite character in the entire game – the butcher (is2g this man needs to become a recurring side character) who is here with his wife and daughter. He asks them if the rest of the harem is here too and Belphie lets him know that unfortunately they’re here with a new inductee who got lost. The butcher offers to help and asks for a description. MC says he’s the owner of the corvo hotel chain and the butcher wonders who the fuck are these people in the first place to know someone like that and then because the butcher’s the sweetest person alive he too starts worrying about diavolo, scared that he might have gotten kidnapped. Belphie says “there’s no one in the human world oh shit I mean THE WORLD. THE NORMAL WORLD ALL US HUMANS - BECAUSE WE ALL ARE HUMANS - LIVE IN” the butcher now probably used to how weird this cult is (because they definitely are a satanic cult with their extremely obvious demon names, how weird and unused to normal life they are, 7 of them being obviously infatuated by the eighth one but the butcher’s not gonna bring this up cause with the amount of meat they buy from him he could keep his family afloat for years AND pay for his daughters college tuition) ignores this and says he hasn’t seen Diavolo but advices them to check the information desk and ask them to page Diavolo over the loudspeakers. They thank him and Belphie promises to stop by with Beel later, the butcher says he’ll see him then and tells them to take care (I love this man). Barbatos text MC asking how they’re doing and which itinerary of his they’re following cause yes apparently he made more than one and telling them he trusts them to take care of diavolo (and I can’t believe it took me this long to realise Barbatos is a helicopter parent). MC leaves him on read. Lucifer then texts them saying Satan told him where they’d gone and telling them that since the two of them are with Diavolo he assumes he’s okay but just to clarify make sure nothing happens to Diavolo. MC leaves him on read. Belphie says that Barbatos and Lucifer are way too overprotective. Barbatos and MC then realise how fucked they are if either of them find out that they’ve lost diavolo and so decide to skip the whole loudspeaker thing.

They can decide if they want to check by the lake, the ferris wheel or the last ride they went in. He’s not at the lake and they choose to take a boat across the lake to get to the ferris wheel cause it’s faster than going around it. Belphie actually enjoys the boat ride and asks if the two of them can just enjoy themselves together for a bit instead of looking for Diavolo, MC says “I’m worried about Diavolo also can you not remember how fucked we are if we don’t find him”. Belphie gets jealous that MC seems to care more about Diavolo than him (they’re just been practical! If the roles were reversed they’d have shut Diavolo down to look for you!) and says that even they have a real soft spot for Diavolo (He’s like a giant golden retriever!!).  There’s an announcement over the loudspeaker for MC and ‘Snoozy’ saying that DD’s waiting for them at the info desk. Belphie’s not happy about ‘snoozy’ (understandable)

[scnteria]

( alex wolff, cis male, he/him, muse b ) oh snap! is that THEODORE “TEDDY” WELLS ? they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE MISCREANT. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( affable ) but also pretty ( misguided ). they’re 22 and they’ve been living in woodstock for FOUR YEARS. it must be their shift because i totally hear RADIOHEAD blasting from the record store. 

( @volumeupdates )

hi everyone !! phew i’m so hype to be here... hello... you can call me wren ! i’m in the est timezone and use she/her pronouns. a lil bit about me: i love making playlists and my silly little lattes every morning, i have two puppies at home that i love more than anything, and i’m currently watching ted lasso and falling in l*ve with jason sudeikis and no i do not think i named teddy after ted lasso but it might’ve been an unconscious thing idk

anyway, i’m going to try not to ramble too much about my boi teddy but you’ve been warned:

sweet boy theodore ! he mostly goes by teddy. i don’t think he minds being called theodore but he DOES hate the nickname ted. sorry to mr. sudeikis

he was born and raised in chicago but his father is from woodstock. he has some distant family here but growing up, it was teddy, his mom, dad, and older brother mccartney ( mick !! )

( alcoholism, hoarding disorder tw ) teddy’s older brother was like a refuge for him in a household that was pretty tough to live in. his mother is an extreme hoarder so teddy felt pretty trapped in his own home. on top of that, his father is a functioning alcoholic who had a tendency to pick fights when really wasted. ( end tw )

teddy shared a room with mick, so that was like their little escape from it all ! but mick left for college because he’s a Smart, Good Boy when teddy was fifteen ! so he took it super hard to be living alone in this environment

( depression tw ) naturally, at that age ( and with evident mental health issues running in the family ), teddy started to show signs of depression. in an attempt to alleviate that, his fam fulfilled a lifelong dream and adopted a lil border collie pup ! ( end tw )

he realized his home wasn’t suitable for him, his mental health, or his dog winnie. he saved up money by working odd jobs throughout high school and on his eighteenth birthday, he and his pup moved to woodstock.

his dog winnie is named after his celebrity crush, winona ryder ! he absolutely carries a polaroid photo of her in his wallet because truly that is his child and god bless you if you even mention dogs around him

he got the job at high volume four years ago so he’s been around for a bit ! jerry was actually really good friends with teddy’s father, so he’s known jerry pretty much his entire life. 

( drug use and alcoholism tw ) teddy has a chronic intestinal disease that basically attacks his immune system and can be preeeetty painful ! it’s manageable ofc and although teddy would say: “kurt cobain had it too so it’s fine,” it still Sucks to deal with. he is on medication for it, though another prescription works wonders for pain too...... and that ‘prescription’ is just Weed. he smokes a lot lol and also likes to drink, both as a source of self-medication and just because ! ( end tw )

( violence and ptsd tw ) oh haha also he saw jerry get shot in an alley but i imagine he is currently going through the many phases of ptsd at this moment. very much trying to keep it together but in reality, he’s a ball of pure anxiety and could crack at any given moment. definitely going through some bouts of denial and doubt ? jerry is not only his boss but he’s a family friend and someone he kind of looked up to, so it’s safe to say he’s not Doing Well ( end tw )

ok now more about his CHARACTER:

teddy is a sweetheart. he’s got golden retriever tendencies, i’d say ! verrrry sociable, loves to be around people.

he’s pretty independent and self-sufficient for someone who makes dumb decisions and doesn’t vibe with being alone  ! he has learned to look out for himself but at the same time, he’s one of those people that make you wonder how he got this far ??

overall, a pretty great friend to have. he’s a man of his word and basically likes to make people around him feel comfortable and happy ! 

kinda charming, an accidental flirt at times. like i don’t think he realizes when he’s flirting ? he’s a little oblivious and definitely does better with people who are direct with him. like if you’re dropping hints that you like him or need him to do something, he won’t pick up on it at all lol the boy is stuck in his own little world that has karma police playing on a constant loop

walking into a shift with him means you’ll either be: entertained, annoyed, distracted, or high lol

( drugs tw ) like he has shown up to work high before and probably has smoked outside during a slow shift i’m SORRY ( end tw )

messy, messy boy makes questionable decisions because he doesn’t quite think them through. he’s SO responsible with his dog, but himself ? a hot mess

perhaps he’s not ... wise when it comes to money... i’ll leave it at that for now :)

perpetually running late and rambles a good amount

weak-willed and self-destructive ! he’s easily swayed to do pretty much anything bc he’s kind of a happy-go-lucky kind of dude. pretty much does Not say no to plans and maybe he pushes his alcohol tolerance from time to time

CONNECTION ideas !!

he moved to woodstock four years ago and i wanna say he lives alone but tbh a roommate would be Cost Effective ( must like dogs tho )

that being said, if your character happened to grow up in chicago let’s do some childhood connections ! maybe an old friend, previous unrequited crush, etc.

pls give me a favorite coworker that just doesn’t get anything done when they’re working together

he absolutely will get on people’s nerves. he gets on MY nerves. so give me enemies of any sort lol

i don’t think he’s much of a relationship guy. i could see one longterm relationship in his past so an ex is a possibility ! 

a previous one-night stand is pretty accurate for him too, but i don’t see him thinking it’s weird or anything. i see him being pretty casual with hook-ups in general, so... do with that as you will

friends ! teddy is a talker and really likes to get to know people, so i can see him having friends of varying levels lol whether you’ve spoken twice but he’s like That’s My Guy ! or you regularly see him walking his dog or you just vibe at work... truly this man will talk to a wall. the possibilities are endless

a BEST friend ! i would very much like someone that teddy spews mostly everything to. he will indeed lay his life on the line for this person lol

party-goers, fellow druggies ! this is a scene teddy OFTEN dabbles in, whether you indulge yourself or provide. >:)

could definitely see him on the receiving end of a mom/dad/parent friend kind of relationship. like that john mulaney quote GET SOME REST, TALL CHILD

okay i seriously need to stop this got so long please end me anyway hit me up here or on discord for all of the plots. i really like to get into the nitty gritty of plots so if that’s your jam, let’s make some toast, baby ! i’m SO excited to get things going !

[dex-xe]

if you’re still taking requests i’d love to see “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?” with alison and thomas cause u know that lil bitch gets panic attacks/meltdowns and i feel like alison’d be hella good at talking him thru em

Thomas, Alison, Pat & the Captain General #23: “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?”

(So this is a fic for these three, I couldn’t decide who to write so here’s all three of them trying to deal with an upset Thomas. Also,, for some reason these are getting no interaction on ao3, yes they’re on there as well, so if anyone wants to go check out some of my stuff on there pls do @/littlemouseinapartyhat :))) Also I know all the fics so far have focussed on a select few characters but the next one will be the Button House women on a sleepover,, spoiler alert Fanny joins in and has fun :P)

Prompt list

Inbox

Far too many times, Pat and the Captain had discovered Thomas buried to his eyes in the murky green water of the lake. It was hardly a surprise to either when Thomas had bolted from the house and dove into the water with the arrival of a new Lord Byron with film crew in tow. As soon as his overwhelming emotional meltdown had begun, Pat and the Captain had shared one single glance across the film set, a knowing glance of full understanding of what they must do later. Their usual nightly patrol was punctuated by a detour to the lake where they, like usual, would sit on the grassy bank beside the water for two hours persuading Thomas to come inside. They’d eventually peacefully appease him and watch as Thomas took the long and silent walk back to the house where he’d dramatically flop into his bed - and remain there for days on end. Pat waited until the Captain had finished gawking after Adam to catch his arm and drag him swiftly towards the lake. They stood on the shoreline watching Thomas huff and puff in the dark water, running his fingers repeatedly through his soft curly hair. “So what do we do exactly?” Someone asked. Unaware they had been followed, both men spun around to find Alison behind them, hands on hips gazing out at Thomas. Pat turned back to face the lake, stepping up the algae ridden waterline. “Thomas!” He called. “Thomas! Are you alright?” Thomas didn’t respond. Instead ducking further below the surface to drop his nose under the water too. “Listen, Thorne!” The Captain shouted out to him. “It’s getting dark, you must come inside at once.” “Does he listen?” Alison asked. “Eventually,” the Captain sighed. “You might care to take a seat, Alison. He can take a little while, whiny child.” Alison perched on the edge of the bank, picking at the grass as she rested her chin on her knees, ready to watch whatever Pat and the Captain had planned for the poet. “Thomas, do you want to talk about it?” Pat shouted. “I get you’re upset, mate. But come out and we can have a chat, yeah? What’s wrong?” Thomas stayed silent, staring blankly back as if not a single thought was running through his mind. “I know you don’t feel well, and I won’t pretend to know what’s happening in that little brain of yours but talking it out will make you feel a thousand times better, I promise,” Pat told him. “Now listen here, Thomas. I demand you listen to Patrick and vacate the water with haste,” the Captain yelled towards him. “The film crew’s left, Tom, nothing left here to worry about,” Pat said. “You can come inside and calm down a touch, yeah? Letting it all out will do you the world of good.” “The sun is setting, Thorne. Whatever this silliness is, you had better push it down deep and come inside!” “Captain, that’s not exactly the best advice at the moment,” Pat told the Captain covering his frustration with a small chuckle. “We’re here to fetch him from the water, not provide a therapy session.” Pat turned fully towards the Captain and held his hands out to try and placate him, hoping he wouldn’t resort to his idea of talking never helping - as he had insisted with Fanny only weeks earlier. “If we find out what is troubling him, we can get him out.” “But-“ Alison stood up abruptly and stepped between the two of them. “Okay, well you guys aren’t helping him in the slightest,” she said. “What? I’m helping?” They said simultaneously, snapping to face each other and shoot incredulous looks. “You’re not doing anything!” “Okay, my turn,” Alison returned to watching Thomas’ morose face above the water. She took her phone from her back pocket and dropped it onto the bank before pulling off her heavy green jumper. She stepped into the lake, muddy water splashing about her ankles and coating the cuffs of her jeans. She sighed at the thought of slaving over laundry the next morning to recover her best jeans. “What the bally hell are you doing?” The Captain questioned. “You can’t seriously be going out there?” Pat said. “Fetch Mike if I start to drown, hey?” She said before wading deeper into the water. She was pleasantly surprised that she could keep her feet planted firmly on the silty bottom of the lake as the freezing winter water pooled around her legs, then hips, all the way up to her shoulders, and to the point where she had to push up onto her tiptoes to keep her head above the surface. Reaching Thomas within a matter of moments, Alison stopped in front of him and dropped ever so slightly so she was eye to eye with him. “Thomas,” she said quietly. “Hey, look at me. Focus on me, alright?” She reached a dripping hand from out of the water and reached as if to cup his cheek, hovering millimetres away. “Can you hear me, Thomas?” Thomas nodded jerkily, trying not to break his eye contact with Alison. “Good, you don’t need people shouting advice at you from the shoreline. You need someone to bring you back down, don’t you?” He nodded again. “You’re floating, aren’t you? Well above the lake and you feel like you can’t come down because everything that’s happening in that head is keeping you up. I’m right, aren’t I?” “Yes,” his voice cracked. “I’ve been there, Thomas,” Alison confessed quietly. “I’ve felt that: where you desperately need someone to catch hold of your leg and just pull you back down. It’s a panic attack, Thomas, or something similar; I’m not sure but it’s nothing to be afraid of. I just need you to focus on me, yeah? And the water. The water? The water! It makes you feel sick, doesn’t it? Can you feel it, can you feel that nauseous feeling like when you touch someone living? It’s there, isn’t it?” A thought overtook Alison, a simple but risky idea. It could bring Thomas straight back to reality, or it could make him feel a thousand times worse. Her hand stayed in position close to Thomas’ face, as she flicked her attention to it slightly. Leaning forward, her hand pressed into his cold form fading through his skin momentarily. Thomas took a deep breath, he had no need to but the overwhelming emotion had stopped his breaths for so very long. “Can you feel it? Does it make you feel, Thomas?” She whispered, trying hard to keep her balance on the lake bed and not fall straight through Thomas. “Fair Alison,” Thomas whispered. “I- I feel sick.” “Good, it’s called ‘grounding’. Using the things around you to bring you back to reality. I’m right here with you, so use my touch, my voice,” Alison said calmly. She couldn’t help but think about the first anxiety attack she’d ever experienced. Year eleven, minutes before a presentation on igneous rocks - Mike had been the one to sit on the corridor floor with her and coach her through it, using the very same techniques she was employing for Thomas. “When there are people in the house, people who work to mock me, it is as if every noise, every colour, every person is simply too vibrant,” he whispered, barely audible to Alison. “It is as if every bone in my body is being accosted by the senses, too many senses.” “I know, I know,” Alison muttered. “I know, Thomas. But you mustn’t drown yourself in the lake! This doesn’t feel particularly pleasant for me, let alone the undead. So, don’t drown yourself, please. One of the best things about my near-death and questionable spiritual abilities is that I can help you.” “None of the others understand this horrific feeling,” Thomas said. “Patrick and the Captain, they do their best. But Captain is rather harsh and Pat insists on talking nonsense and then trying to hug me. I do not feel I need that.” “Then come to me, Thomas,” Alison urged. “Don’t drown yourself, what kind of a solution is that? Find me and we’ll talk.” “I do not wish to disturb when you are-,” Thomas started. “No, you’re not a disturbance. If you need me, I’ll be there.” Thomas nodded gently, trying not to put pressure on the cold spot where Alison was touching his face. “Now, I’m freezing to death out here, and I’m fairly sure there’s a fish in my jeans. Let’s go inside, you can choose a film, yeah?” “Yes please.” The light had dropped quickly, the orangey grey light of the evening had been replaced by darkness. They began the trudge back to the shore where Pat and the Captain were sat side by side on the bank, trying slightly too hard to seem nonchalant a hide their eavesdropping. Pat jumped up as he realised they were coming back, and the Captain uncrossed his legs to stand beside him. “Fantastic work, Alison!” Pat said, reaching out to take Thomas by the arm. He cowered away slightly, only to be guided slowly forward by Alison; more herding him than actually touching his waistcoat. Pat retreated holding his hands up in surrender. “That’s probably a record!” “Whatever did you say to get him away so quickly?” The Captain asked. “Stop being so nosy,” Alison chuckled, ringing the water out of her dark hair. “Thank you for your help, Pat, Cap. But just leave him be for a little while, okay? Come on, back in with you,” she said turning to Thomas. “I could do with a hot shower and some clothes that don’t contain ten gallons of pond water and an aquarium of creatures. Will you be okay sitting with the others for a bit while I get changed, Thomas?” Thomas contemplated and then nodded once at her beginning the long walk to the safety of the house. He was still away with the fairies, still flying high above the lake waiting for his feet to return to solid ground. But concentrating very hard, focusing on Alison in front of him - her voice and her touch, he could almost feel the very tips of his toes skimming the waterline. 

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Divine duo part 1

Rex had woken up full of energy, because today was a special day. He and his wife were going to visit another universe's chaldea, specifically Faye's. They had to get ready soon, they were spending the morning there then bringing Faye and her girlfriend Ereshkigal to their chaldea. They had been planning this for a bit, both pairs were excited.

They had to wait for the opportunity tho, since they were messing with the multiverse itself things had to be just right. The two Da Vincis and Sions needed to make sure there were absolutely no problems whatsoever, because otherwise the risks could be too great. Just the other day the two groups were finally able to coordinate a good day to do it and now it was that day.

Rex and Quetz went to the control room to prepare to go to the other chaldea. Da Vinci and Sion were in contact with their counterparts to make sure things go well.

Sion: ok you two! Ready?

Rex: yeah!

Quetz: si!

Da Vinci: ok, sending you in! I'm 3... 2... 1!

And while in their coffins Rex and Quetz are sent into the other chaldea to meet up with Faye and Eresh.

It's dark for a short while then everything lights up. Rex and Quetz found themselves in the other control room with Faye and Eresh standing not too far.

Faye: hey you two!

Eresh: good to see you again!

Rex: heyyo!

Quetz: so far everything's the same as ours.

Faye: I mean, I doubt much can be changed with just a different master.

Rex: do not doubt the influence we can have on our chaldeas.

Eresh: you probably have more influence on your chaldea then Faye does.

Faye: so where to first?

Rex: cafeteria! I'm starving! Haven't eaten at all yet!

The group goes to the cafeteria and sat down at a table together. Each master sat next to their respective partner servant while face to face to each other. Faye and Ereshkigal had relatively normal meals for their breakfast. Meanwhile Rex and Quetz had huge meals both with a big stack of pancakes.

Faye: my, you two are healthy eaters.

Rex: well we train for lucha a lot so we need the energy.

Quetz: si! Can't have mi amor tire out on me while training!

Eresh: oh you like lucha too Rex?

Rex: well not at first, but Quetz got me into it! I'm training to be her lucha partner one day!

Faye: oh that sounds so fun! A huband/wife lucha duo!

Quetz: si! We actually did have one match together before!

Eresh: really?!

Rex: yeah... in the final match-up for the last Christmas Quetz's original partner Bradamante couldn't fight because of an injury but because it was the final match-up they let me sub for her!

Faye: what?! She got injured?!

Rex: yeah... I imagine things went differently for you then.

Eresh: yeah, in fact at the last moment Bradamante had became like this super Santa I think? And had defeated the other Quetz in the end.

Quetz: oh! That's very different!

Faye: how did you manage to fight the other Quetz?! She was Quetz's more violent bits so how did you even survive?!

Rex: it's still Quetz tho! She loves me no matter what! She couldn't actually give it her all against me!

Quetz: si! Even when training I don't want to hurt mi amor too much! I love him too much to see him injured, especially by my own hands.

Eresh: so it was like the power of love basically!

Rex: yeah! It was hard for me to fight her too tho, since it's still Quetz but since I needed to beat her to make Quetz whole again I managed to defeat her in the end.

Faye: aaawww! It really was the power of love! And lucha.

Rex: yeah! Honestly tho it didn't feel like THE match for us. Y'know what I mean? Like... since our opponent didn't give it her all and didn't have a proper partner it wasn't the right match-up for us.

Eresh: it's not the perfect match for your husband/wife team?

Quetz: si... and mi amor wasn't fully prepared for lucha. He still needs more training. I don't know if we would've been able to win if she went all out honestly.

Rex: yeah... I'm still training.

Faye: I'm sure you'll get there one day! And I'd love to see that perfect husband/wife match-up when it finally happens!

Rex: yeah, but that's enough about us! What have you two been up to?!

Faye: actually not long ago we had another double date with a different universes' master and servant pair!

Quetz: oh! Who was it?!

Eresh: it was Maya and Helena.

Rex: ah, lil miss horny. Did she convince you to do anything risqué?

Faye: yeah... we played a game of strip poker.

Quetz: strip poker?! How'd that go?!

Eresh: she was trouncing us! She always saw through our bluffs! I ended up naked first! It was so embarrassing!

Rex: oof! That sounds like hell.

Faye: it wasn't so bad...

Quetz: well we'd never agree to such a game!

Rex: yeah! Only I get to see mi corazon's body!

Quetz: si! And mi amor's body is for my eyes only!

Faye: that's nice to hear!

After a bit the pairs finished their meals and so the tour could start proper.

Rex: so what do you wanna show us first?

Faye: oh I know! Let me show you my goddess' place of worship!?

Rex: oh you got one too!?

Faye: yeah! She's a goddess after all so she needs a temple!

Eresh: but Faye you only gave me one. That line of reasoning implies places for the others.

Faye: I mean... you're my goddess so you deserve it the most!

Rex: yeah, same thing in my chaldea. I've got a huge room dedicated just to Quetz! But she deserves it the most!

Quetz: mi amor! You're making me blush!

Quetz then proceeded to take Rex's face in her hands and give him a kiss. Which had the other pair turn a bit red.

While on the way to the temple of Ereshkigal the four ended up meeting a very interesting individual.

Irkalla: oh my! Is this the other master you mentioned Faye?

Faye: yeah this is Rex and his version of Quetzalcoatl.

The other death goddess eyed the new pair a bit. Despite her looks she had a very different vibe to her when compared to her counterpart. She definitely felt more intimidating then Ereshkigal.

Irkalla: hmmm, interesting. Not really sure what Quetzalcoatl sees in him tho. I've seen better.

Quetz didn't like that, but instead of attacking her she just flashed her signature toothy grin and said a few words.

Quetz: now what's wrong with mi amor?

All of a sudden Irkalla got nervous. Not as much as Eresh would've but you could tell she didn't want to deal with the lucha goddess.

Irkalla: er... anyways I've got to go. See you later Faye.

Faye: seeya! Huh... never seen her like that before.

Eresh: Quetzalcoatl is a very scary woman. I got nervous when she made that face.

Quetz: ehehehehe, well I don't like people being rude to mi amor.

Rex: it's hard to believe she's also Ereshkigal.

Faye: are the other Quetzes closer to the original?

Rex: well... mostly? Hard to say without them here.

After a bit of time they were in Eresh's temple room.

Rex: impressive!

Quetz: si! It seems perfect for Ereshkigal!

Faye: thanks! Only the best my goddess!

Eresh, turning red: yeah, it's pretty great.

Then all of a sudden a familar voice is heard.

???: hello?! Is the other master here?

And in came someone else, it was the Quetzalcoatl of Faye's chaldea.

Faye: oh hey! What are you doing here?

Other Quetz: I wanted to see the other master, and I figured you'd bring him here.

The other Quetz came up to the group and looked at Rex.

Other Quetz: my what a cute lil master! I almost want him to take me back with him!

Faye: woah! I dunno if we can do that!

Rex: what would you do if my Eresh said the same?

Faye: uuuuhhh...

Faye was turning red with the question.

Rex: because I'd trade!

Faye: wait! You can't just say that! You already have like 5 of her!

Rex: you don't want 3 Ereshes?

Faye: pls! Let's drop the topic for now!

Rex: fine...

Eresh: Quetzalcoatl, how come you don't seem angry like normal?

Quetz: I think I'm getting used to other me's loving mi amor. At least it makes sense.

Eresh: that's kinda concerning.

Quetz: si...

After a bit it was almost lunch time, which meant it was time to switch chaldeas. The group headed towards the control room to go to Rex's chaldea. They got into the coffins to head to their destination.

Sion: ok! Just like before! 3... 2... 1!

A/N: ok! There's part 1 of this RexCoatl/FayEresh crossover! Next time it's my chaldea's turn! And Faye will meet all the other Quetzes and so on. Hope you guys like it!

Credit to @hasereshdoneanythingwrong for letting me use their beautiful ship! Hope it's accurate!

Tags

@hasishtardoneanythingwrong @haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @hasnightingaledoneanythingwrong @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong @castlecsejtespeakertechnician @renmeo @kierakaz @valiantstrawberrymilk

[derekmorganscrocs]

Nancy Drew 2x6? Thoughts While Watching

Technically its the season 2 premiere but I have no idea what to number it

SPOILER WARNING!! SWEARING TOO.

A YATCH? OH GET IT BESS.

OH PLATANCHOR

ACE GOT A NOTE FROM HIS MOM AWWW. I want a picnic date on a mountain, no cap.

Nick and George teamwork is so cute. AW NICKS MOM! “Nice non pagan game night.” I’m sent.

I LOVE MORGUE GUY HES SO FUNNY

HAHAHA DETECTIVE TAMARA MAKING FUN OF NANCY IS GOLD. Nancy don’t make an enemy of another cop you already did that to McGinnis and that was kinda bad (until he switched on you). TELL NANCY WHAT SHE WANTS TO KNOW TAMARA. SHELL FIND OUT WITHOUT U HOE.

OH NO. WH-WHAT. THE BODY FRIDGE BOXES ARE SPEAKING TO U MISS NANCY.

OMG CARSON AND NANCY ACTUALLY HANGING OUT? Aw I kinda love that. The way he just knows exactly what she’s doing.

WHY SHE PUT THAT IN HER POCKET.

Ace nancy is about to die stop talking about food. I love you but read the room babe. DON’T HANG UP BITCH-

OMG ITS A BODY WHAT THE FUCK

Georges sister being a fish right activist. Omg me when I stand up to fast(that’s not supposed to be about the fish rights it’s about George just dying against a shelf)- I think Odette may have attached herself to George.

“Did you burn your knuckle hair again?”

“Game night Ace crushes.” Aw I love him.

Bess “did you kill someone” “oh it smells” STOP.

“Tamara already thinks we have a thing for dead bodies” Ace please never ever stop talking.

AH THIS WHOLE SCENE IS SENDING ME.

The way george goes EGH after she picks up the mouth thing.

Pls not us arguing over where in Nancy’s house to do an autopsy.

HAUNTED TREE-

Aw Carson still views her as a kid, I love. oh she’s so offended.

NOT THE KITCHEN TOOL AUTOPSY. Ace snapping the rubber glove made me snort omfg. He’s everything.

OK CORONER BESS. Nick is so grossed out and I love that he can’t say bug names. Detective crew 1000.

GEORGE IS HAUNTED. A MILLION PERCENT. Nick knows at least.

OH I DONT LIKE THAT WHAT THE FUCK WHY DID ACE OPEN THE BODY LIKE HE WAS PULLING OPEN ELEVATOR DOORS.

Nick is a genius, and nancy hyping him up is serving me bffs. Pls Hannah is serving angry hippie vibes.

I LOVE GEORGES TATTOOS SHES SO HOT.

OMG THE BOYS

“What like that time that she literally died?” Ok nick. OH COUPLE BOYFRIEND THERAPIES, YES BOYS TALK ABOUT UR GIRLS.

I HATE BUGS EW. OH ITS LEAKING. ITS LEAKING. AH NO

The sheer panic on their faces when someone knocks. Not morgue guy. Oh nancy gaslight him, periodt.

It blinked- (yeah I screamed this what about it.)

Is game night back on tho?

The way ace’s curls look so much better than mine, I’m so jealous. I want to play with his hair. Yes I am obsessed. What about it?

Morgue guy raging is funny. “Kidnapped cadaver”. Ahahha. NO NOT CHARLES’ ARM! It’s a voodoo doll or something- WHY IS THE CORPSE CRUNCH? OH NO HES GONE

The way bess says “come on,” is just perfect I love.

The house freaks me out a lil. Nick reassuring nancy, I really need a nick y’all.

THE KID’S CHARLES ACTION FIGURE OH NAH OH HELL NAH, WTF. WTF. HES ACTUALLY TALKING TO THE TOY NO.

George is freaking me out y’all. Ace platanchoring everyone. ACE AND GEORGE FRIENDSHIP 😭 I LOVE. ACE IS SO SWEET. NO GEORGE OPENING UP. She’s so scared, omg no. “What if I never feel normal again” broke me. Broke. I felt that so much.

Morgue guy going crazy. Babe stop repeating yourself, chill. It’s jus a ghost 🙄.

Ok come on Leo don’t be a pussy- sorry that was aggressive. Bess STOP I CANT HANDLE THIS, “BOXY”??? ACCENT NICK ACCENT NICK!

NOT GEORGES SISTERS. NO. Astronaut cat is so cool. OHNO OH NO OH NO.

RUN RUN- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? No George begging them to hurry and the way her voice breaks. STOP STOP NO- Nick having to hold her back and the way her voice is just breaking and raspy, WOW. NO WAY, Ace is holding back the little sister. SO HE’s GOOD WITH KIDS? Amazing performance by Leah Lewis here, I love her. As an older sister, this is totally an accurate reaction and was excellently acted. just wow.

“Those ghost kids were awesome” thanks for saving me from tears Ace.

NICK IS A ROCK. HI I CANT HANDLE THIS RN BESTIE. Nick stop being such a good guy.

SHE CALLED HIM DAD. SHE CALLED HIM DAAAD. HI CARSON PLS STOP BEING ADORABLE U R ATTACKING MY EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT ISSUES. Ooh lawyer investigator nancy? Aw she’s staying at the Claw too though. LUNCHES ARE INCLUDED! Sobbing.

SHE IS SPEAKING TO ODETTE. OOH ODETTE GOT A LIL SASS IN THAT “enchanté” ok maam.

Yo I deadass forgot morgue guy’s name-

SISTER’S THOUGHTS :

Ryan and Carson need to be an old married couple (I suggested arguing over nancy like a divorced couple)

“Lilith is that you??” @ the white eyes corpse

EW SHE PUT IT IN HER POCKET.

“I thought it was gonna be like a yeti, blow her hair- BODY”

Both mom and Alexis hiding and shrieking as nancy looks around her house for the banging.

Punky Brewster ad, she goes “paget Brewster??”

“Those aren’t human! They’re not supposed to be in there” @whatever the fuck was in that body, said cheerfully and stupidly. 5 seconds later “Bess and Ace were too prepared for that apotoposty. (Pause for thinking)... autopsy.”

Starts calling the bugs “mouthboards” (she actually was calling them that the whole time)

Repeats “blinked” for thirty five seconds before pronouncing the i in any other way she can think of.

Fails at sliding down the railing because she couldn’t run downstairs fast enough before the show came on. Proceeds to crabwalk gallop back to her chair.

“That was scary!” (Said like Dean Winchester in “yellow fever”)

It’s called a vessel. 🖐🙄

WHY DO THEY DO EVERYTHING AT NIGHT.

“Scotland” but she said it in an awful British accent that was supposed to be Scottish-

“Seriously? Do they just lose Ted once every season now, or?”

*cryptic smooth beatbox dancing to end credit music?* update: she says it’s interpretive dancing...

She wants to know where Ryan is. “Why was he just MIA this whole time?”

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

The Leppard Albums: A Summary

(inspired by Every Beatles Album)

Happy Saturday night everyone

The Def Leppard EP

Joe is 19 and just wants to ride a motorcycle okay

Groupie fantasy

Zeppelin lyrics meet Rush with an underappreciated bass line

On Though the Night

IT'S!!! ROCK!!! N ROLL!!! BABEY!!!

Joe is 20 and just really doesn't wanna work in a factory anymore okay

pls D; girl D; stop D; hiding D; your D; pain!!

another... groupie fantasy... I think? ...???

Leppard in Space

Joe is 20 and just wants to write something edgy okay leave him alone

STEVE 👏👏👏 FUCKING 👏👏👏 CLARK!!!! 👏👏🔥👏🔥👏👌👌

the original groupie fantasy but it's been re-recorded

girl?? make up?? your mind???

let's be mysteriously edgy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Zeppelin lyrics meets Rush but it's been re-recorded (but don't worry they still kept the underappreciated bass line)

High N Dry

everyone in this band is a slutty bottom and this is the song that proves it

we have Mutt Lange now and this is the song that proves it

drONK TIEM

betcha didn't think we could write a ballad, did ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

STÊVË!!!!! 👏👏👏👏 FÜCKÎÑ!!!!!! 👏👏👏👏👏 C L Ã R K!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥👏👌👌🤙👏👌🔥👌🎉🎉

underappreciated and that's all there is to it

noooo don't go you're too mysterious and sexy hahhaha

oh god Dx oh god no Dx we don't sound like this anymore we swear Dx

betcha thought we stopped writing Beowulf-esque pop songs didn't ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

🚫🚫⛔👎🚫🙅‍♂️👎🚫⛔🙅‍♂️⛔ *Joe tearing his throat up for 2 solid minutes*

Pyromania

IT'S ROCK!!!!!! N ROLL!!!! BABEY!!!!!!!1!!!!1!!1!! AGAIN!!!!! 😆😆😆

the Classic Rock Fandom™ in a nutshell 😓

INTRODUCING PHIL 👌👌👌 FUCKING👏👏 COLLEN 🔥🔥🔥

betcha thought we abandoned the idea of doing a ballad didn't ya ( ͡° ͜�� ͡°)

Joe's back at it again with the edgy songs and is getting a lot better at it too

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ∆ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Gunter 🙃 Glieben 🙃 Glauchen 🙃 Globen

the most underappreciated song on this whole entire fucking list sorry I don't make the rules

Alright, WHO in this band wants to be in a porno >:C

Joe's back at it yet again with the edgy songs but it's even BETTER this time

Hysteria

Girls Girls Girls ALL WOMEN ARE QUEENS ANAKIN

🎸we!!! fucking!!! love!!!! glam rock!!!!!! and african drum rhythms!!!!!!!!!🥁

we're not furries we swear we're just kinky D: also fuck you DJs here's some false endings

we haven't made a ballad that HURTS yet so here we go (with an underappreciated bass line)

the song that invented "( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)" (AKA when you cram for a test the minute before and end up getting 100%)

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)😏( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)😏( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

S T E V E 😭👏👏 F U C K I N 😭😭😭 C L A R K 👏👏👏😭👏😭

nooo don't shoot me you're too kinky hahaha

a song about rioting and being #punk, but the only crime the man singing it has ever committed was getting a speeding ticket when he was 19/20

oh. oh shit. oh god. holy shi- I can't believe... ...we just accidentally made the most perfect song to ever exist :o like seriously- people are achieving nirvana as we speak I'm not joking I think we went too far with the perfection this time guys

THIS SONG IS ABOUT S E X AND WE AIN'T BEING SHY ABOUT IT EITHER LET'S FUCKIN GO BABE-

Don't 👏 give 👏 me 👏 love 👏

Adrenalize

gkKLglldlflhlADKSLALLFLSS 😆😆😆

I fucking love my wife uWu

fkKMglgllsLLslgflephpGLDLPT 😆(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)😆

We're just gonna get extremely romantic and passionate for 4 minutes and 3 seconds if that's alright with you (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

this album was the most painful thing any of us have ever had to do, so here's the most serious song we've ever done to date. Steve ✊ Fucking ✊ Clark ✊ -n-

now that our mental breakdown is over, we're gonna get extremely passionate and romantic again but for a lil longer this time aiight 🤙

one of us has a protection/ownership kink but we're not gonna tell you who

you know what this album needs? a little bit more pain

we're layin down the line (and by that we mean we want sex)

we're layin down the line pt.2 (we still want sex btw)

Retro Active

Beowulf songs are back babey 🤙

I'll say that again if I have to^

we!!! still!!! fucking!!! love!!!! glam rock!!!!! we even covered something to prove it!!!!!!

Joe has now officially mastered ballads

I fucking love my wife part 2: she's a badass top

While Joe was off mastering ballads, Phil studied the blade

We covered something else bc again!!! we fucking!!! love!!! glam!!!

We rewrote Joe's motorcycle song bc we now realize it was cringe af (and it was an excuse for Joe to talk to Ian Hunter so that made him happy)

Joe has now officially mastered edgy/serious songs

it's a total bop but oh god. No. Please. No. Oh God. No. Don't. Please. No. Pls. No. Oh god. Don't.

This should've been on Adrenalize and you can Fight Me On That

Phil studies the blade (electric version)

Joe masters ballads (electric version)

Vault (there's only one new song on here so that's all I'm doing)

babe nooooo D';

Slang

Epic edgelords part 1

Epic edgelords part 2: Phil wrote it this time

everyone in this band is a slutty bottom and this is the song that proves it Volume 2: Electric Bugaloo

soft breakdown :'c

hOT DOGGITY DAMN JOE'S VOICE HOLY HELL TAKE ME N- *clears throat* I mean introducing Vivian Campbell :3 aND THERE'S A BASS SOLO MMMM 🤤🤤👌 THIS SONG IS JUST SEXY FUCKIN LIFT ME UP AND-

Phil's marriage isn't going too well

in fact, no one's marriages are going too well

severely underrated bop

We're still not over Steve's death and we never will be :c

Joe makes edgy ballads his bitch yet again 👏👏

severely underrated banger 🔥🔥🔥

Euphoria

wE STILL MAKE FAST BOPS IN CASE YOU FORGOT 🤘🤘🤘🤘🤘🤘🤘

Holy shit I didn't know Joe could hit a note that high

The 90s sucked for us but we'rE STILL HERE BICH 🖕

Can we pls give Sav more songwriting space on albums thx 😭💗

everyone in this band is a slutty bottom and this is the song that proves it Volume 3: Even Sluttier This Time 😏

totally different from everything we've ever done and WE 👏 MADE IT 👏 OUR 👏 EDGY 👏 BITCH

uwu but it's sad so it's actually umu

partying like it's 1999- oh wait, it actually is 1999

*hugs Viv and scREEEEEEEEAAAMMS*

Phil studied the blade and attacks you with it

*gets escorted into the back of a police car* IM GUILTY!! I'M GUILTY!!! I'M NOT INNOCENT!!! 😫😫😫

whatever edginess we couldn't fit into Paper Sun we put into this song instead

we're entering the new millennium as Kings and there's nothing you can do about it 👑🖕

X (Ten)

Stand on a balcony at sunset when you listen to this one

(insert Vizzini saying "INCONCEIVABLE" here)

the big UwU

I got ghosted and it’s actually a lot more dark and depressing than I thought also I wish I was never awake

soft and edgy and sad acoustic dads

F-U-C-K SPELLS F- I mean L-O-V-E spells love uWu

babe nOOOooO I'm sorry I suck so much DD;

this sounds like out if Work It Out and Day After Day had a kid

we're gonna have a Funky Good Time whether you like it or not 😎

E D G E L O R D S 2 0 0 2

we can't decide if we want this album to be edgy or uwu so we're gonna make it both

the same passion as Tonight but less sexy and more (you guessed it) uwu

E D G E L O R D S 2 0 0 2 P A R T 2

Betcha thought our emo phase was over didn't ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yeah!

bops have been and will ALWAYS be something we have mastered- even if the song we're playing isn't ours

SAV'S TIME TO SHINE

betcha thought we couldn't cover a Blondie song, did ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Phil's just getting nostalgic about London it's fine 👍

don't worry joe's still sCREAMIN

in which we make this song a million times better than the original

WE LOVE ROXY MUSIC SO MUCH WE CANTEXPLAINWEJUSTLOVEHEMRMFLGPHPH

we're letting Joe have his moment ok just let him have this 👨‍🎤

yeah we like Free- so whAT??

okay NOW we're letting Joe have his real moment- he's been waiting for this moment ever since he was like 12 okay just. let him. have this just. this one time. pls.

in which we confuse literally everyone by making them think this is a song that we wrote

we just need ONE more bop, okay? Just ONE more we swear then we'll stop being fanboys (for now...)

we'll be right back, it's Bow Down To Thin Lizzy Hour

*Phil tearing up his throat for 4 and a half solid minutes*

Songs From The Sparkle Lounge

this one's actually kinda dark and heavy? :o

honky tonk time 🤠🤙

FINALLY ONE OF SAV'S SONGS IS THE MOST POPULAR SONG OFF AN ALBUM 🙏🙏🙏🙏😩

FINALLY WE HAVE MORE SAV MATERIAL I LOVE IT SM ;∆; !!!!

Phil's songs are severely underrated tho pls give them more attention

it's time for one (1) badass religious song and if you don't like it then you can Fuck Off kindly 🙃

This whole album is "Songs That Were Written By Phil and Viv and Sav" heaven

I think sometimes people forget that we, even as a band, are fans of the Classic Rock Fandom™ too, and we feel the same pain as the other fans :'^)🤙

Joe's three minutes of fame on this album

Joe's three minutes of fame on this album part 2

Viv's songs are severely underrated tho pls give them more attention

Mirror Ball (bonus tracks)

we grabbed fate by the balls and screamed fUCK YOU 🖕🖕

We are still Kings™ in case anyone was wondering 👑🖕

✨PHIL BELIEVES!!!! IN!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!! AND!!!!!!!!!! BELIEVING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!✨

Def Leppard (Self Titled 2015)

Is this song about playing a live show? Probably. Is it also about having a fight? Is it also about angry sex? The world may never know.

Okay this one just absolutely SLAPS, periodt.

bootleg Another One Bites The Dust

*SOBBING* THEY'RE ALL SINGING LEAD I'M-

being badass, That's The Power Of Love

don't worry, we still know how to be Poetically Edgy

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm *bump bump* hooked on a feeeeling

I've Got a Spiritual Romantic Boner

Can't Keep Away From The Flame edginess gets crossed with some Zeppelin charm and badassery

someone in this band is fucking piSSED 😠😠😠😠

we're gonna @ someone tonight fellas

sAV OH MY GOD BABYYYYY 😰😰😭😭😭😭 DO YOU NEED A HUG

what if we tried to cross newer Metallica with Nickelback 🤔

what if we turned this into We All Need Christmas three years from now... 🤔

Bonus: Personal Jesus/We All Need Christmas

Viv really wanted to cover ABBA but everyone said no so he settled for cowboy goth™ instead

What better man to write a warm and fuzzy Christmas song than the warm and fuzziest man alive (Sav)

[2p-stuff-because-i-miss-them]

could you do maybe .. 2p italy boyfriend headcanons pls?? thank you !! i love the blog so far

Yay tysm~ bf headcanons for the boi coming right up, my last bf canons were too long so I hope this ones shorter.

Our favorite short glass of red wine, Luciano Vargas-

This boi really did think he was going to be the one to sweep you off your feet and take you away to a paradise.

Turns out it was you who did that

Well okay it was both-

You two probably met during the spring in park

Sounds nice but it was about to be stormy as all hell and Luciano was so visibly pissed about something it was kind of funny. 

It was funnier when the sat down ignoring the weather signs and took his jacket off

It was less funny when the rain started and he curled up in a ball to start sobbing quietly, something must have happened

He couldn’t really see you, but he could sense and hear you breathing, as for you his glowing magenta eyes were burned into the back of your brain, and you thought he was really pretty lets be honest he is prettiest boi-

Maybe that's why you gave him your umbrella as to help him get a little dry, or maybe make him feel a tad bit better

Bottom line you two talked, you made him feel a bit better and you didn’t make a big deal about it, which he admired. 

You went from closer than normal acquaintances to friends over the span of 7 months, then best friends after a year, it only took another month for hm to start catching feelings and getting more romantic but then it took three months before he finally kissed you under the rain to make it official.

He was all suave abt it and stuff lolo

Btw kisses with Luciano are clicks tounge top TIER

He does it all the time when he’s with you in public and private.

He likes cuddling with you everywhere too but he wont because he has an image to maintain around people ig

But damn you’ll just be sitting down chilling and he’s staring (almost glaring-) at you then he leaves and comes back behind you just to place you on his lap. 

          ^“Luci this is a Wendy’s-”

Even if you're much bigger and/or taller than him he always wants to be the one holding you. Which is sweet but sometimes he falls down and doesn’t let go-

          ^“Hey Luci can you help me get down from this (slightly tall platform)?”

             Ah yes bella I’ll just carry you off

           “Luci no I mean can I just hold your hand until I get down as to keep balance-”

            No no its fInE-

           “Luci no NO WAIT PUT ME DOWN I'M TOO THICC FOR YOUR SHI-”

And then you come crashing down but at least you fell on Luciano-

As macho as this man is, he’ll lose it if you call him pretty and do light make up on him really.

He likes taking pictures of you and setting them as his wallpaper with filters and stuff, if you do the same to him he’ll die-

Luci probably already knows most if not all of your big and small insecurities abt your body and personality and he’ll praise those aspects about you every day, sometimes on purpose but usually just because he genuinely loves all of his s/o.

Now keeping this in mind he’ll also be “playfully” mean but you can’t really tell because he has the same resting bitch face the entire time he’s being playful and serious.

And you also can’t tell because he’ll be high-key threatening about it and then say “I’m joking” after you’ve panicked

He spends a lot of money on you because he’s kind of materialistic but he also tries to do the small things for you when he has time, so he can show you how much he cares outside of just spoiling you with no love in return

When Luciano is talking with you he’s very distracting, because he’s usually stroking your arm or face or messing with your hair. He does this out of habit because he thinks it’s a comforting way to say that he’s listening and/or go on but sometimes you’ll lose focus when he’s so close and making direct eye contact-

He knows he's handsome and he'll use it to get his way in arguments or conversations

          ^Luci no I don't want to watch that movie again please-"

          *Luciano bats gorgeous eyelashes once*

          "...I'll be ready in 10"

Luciano also uses italian to his advantage like this as well. He speaks so SMOOTHLY you cannot help it.

He loves to see you all flustered and cute, and that's his primary goal in all of his romantic gestures

He likes to watch romance movies often and honestly, loves movie nights in general, and would love it if you would watch sappy love stories with him.

He also likes to dance with you at night all alone in the dark. He’ll slow dance forever as long as it's with you in his arms (how romantic doki doki)

Luciano is usually always with Lutz and Kuro so you are too, and honestly-

It’s kind of terrifying because Lutz is low-key a giant man child so he’s always getting into accidents that will give you heart attacks before you remember he’s immortal-

And Kuro just sort of appears everywhere behind you, in front of you always watching silently which is unnerving

But you guys get closer during game nights every month so it's okay

Speaking of people you’re always around, Flavio is like always there no matter what, spoiling you almost as much as Luciano. 

This boi loves an s/o’s honesty and genuine love so as long as he keeps getting that he’ll love you forever.

lol this def not even a lil shorter but I’ve deleted too much from it already soooooooooo

[sortavibing]

hii there, could i get a male romantic match up pls ?? i’m a infp, 5’3, virgo & slytherin. my pronouns are she/her & i’m bi. i love dancing, learning languages, music, memes, alt fashion, making people laugh, piercings, tattoos, making playlists & affection. i’m v insecure & i also have really bad anxiety so i lowkey need someone to take care of me bc i’m a mess and i always put others before me, sometimes i even forget to eat. my body type is curvyish, with chubby cheeks & brown eyes and i often dye my hair (it’s currently half black, half pink). i’m usually at home, whenever i go out i always put on my earphones. my music taste is very wide, i pretty much listen to everything. however, the bands/artists that i listen to the most are: lil peep, the neighbourhood, arctic monkeys & mother mother. i’m pretty opinionated and sarcastic, even though i’m an introvert i’m not afraid to talk back if i have to. i despise any kind of discrimination, having been bullied myself the first few years of high school. i use lots of “internet slang” on the daily and use emojis ironically. i hate being vulnerable in front of others, that’s why i always put an “idgaf” attitude even though i overthink everything. i kinda have trust issues and i’m very bad at expressing my feelings vocally, so i usually do it with affection, that’s why i consider it my love language. it’s really hard for me to say no to someone so people usually take advantage of me and even if i know it, i can’t stop it bc i just want to make everyone happy ): aaaa this was sooo long but i wanted it to be as specific as possible so it’d be easier for u. thank you so much, i hope you’re taking care of yourself properly. <3 <3

hello! thank you for requesting! you sound like so much fun to be around (we are lowkey the same) and i aspire to have your hair (i kinda screwed mine up today :I). anyways, here’s your matchup!

i match you up with iwazumi!

iwazumi is actually pretty good at comforting and caring for people, because he has so much practice helping oikawa, so he will always be there for you to remind you to eat, help you through a panic attack, compliment you, and just be a very stable anchor in your life that will ground you while still showing you affection.

he also thinks the alt fashion is really cool, and you were able to convince him to get a helix piercing, and though he pretends it was all your idea, he actually really likes it, and often looks for different studs/rings when he is out shopping. his favorite earring he has is one with 2 silver rings that are a little rough and handmade looking.

if you guys are out in a public place, he always brings a spare set of earphones and a portable battery, just in case you misplace your earphones or your phone runs out of battery. he really likes when you make playlists for him, and whenever he misses you, he listens to one of the playlists you made for him.

iwa really enjoys physical affection too, but he doesn’t initiate it that much, so if you guys are walking together, please hold his hand, because that will literally make his day. he would also be really good at giving hugs, so if you ever are feeling bad, he would wrap you in his arms and just stay there until you feel a little better.

he will always offer to help you touch up your dyed roots, and he’s surprisingly really good at it, so iwazumi has now become your resident hairstylist, and he secretly enjoys dying your hair, so while he does grumble a few complaints when he has to help you, he soon gets really into it, and even offers to try something a little more complicated, because he thinks it would look really good on you.

one of your most memorable dates was when iwazumi surprised you with tickets to an arctic monkey’s concert. you guys were almost late to the show, but once you got there, you and iwa spent the whole night dancing and singing with each other, and after the concert, he took you to your favorite place to eat (if it was open), and you spent the rest of the night and the morning just talking with each other and enjoying the city.

when he first saw you voice your opinion against discrimination towards LGBTQ+, and got into an argument with someone about it, he was really surprised and impressed that you were able to hold your ground and still keep your cool. seeing the side of you that was willing to defend what you believe in made him fall in love with you a little bit more, and he was sure to mention how amazing it is that you refuse to let people be discriminatory against others.

 iwazumi refuses to let people walk all over you, so if you ever tell him that you are uncomfortable in a situation and you don’t want to say no, he will immediately be there, in person or on the phone to shut down that person fast. he hates that people want to take advantage of you, so he will do everything in his power to show others that you aren’t just a girl who won’t say no.

he knows you like the alt fashion, so if he ever sees something that he is sure will look good on you, he will buy it and give it to you the next time he sees you, so because of this, a lot of your favorite items of clothing are bought by iwazumi, and whenever you wear them around him, he gets really proud that you like what he bought for you.

overall, you and iwazumi are the peak rbf couple, but you both care a lot about each other. he always makes sure that you put yourself before anyone else, because he just wants you to realize how beautiful and amazing you are. your relationship was built on a lot of trust, and you know he would never lie to you, because he just wants you to be happy.

i hope you enjoyed!

[pinkykitten]

Ⓐⓣⓣⓐⓒⓚ ⓞⓝ Ⓣⓘⓣⓐⓝ

this is a fan cast for the anime attack on titan or shingeki no kyojin. you guys know i love doing fancasts especially with fandoms i’m so strong about and love so much this is one of them. i love attack on titan so much and tbh i get a lil crazy for it...oops. but with some i do agree on in fancasts i thought why not make my own and show you guys what i think. this would be my dream cast and like (i know this never will) but if they did makes this real i prob would cry so hard my boogies would come out. now you don’t have to agree on me with this this is just what i think. hopefully you guys likes and maybe agree...if you do i love you!

eren yeager or jeager idk : rob raco (i’ve read that eren’s character is supposed to be tan or tanner skin so i thought rob would be perfect. i know him from riverdale and he’s just perfect with the skin color and eye color and he has that capability of long hair for future eren JUST SAYIN. eren is one of my fav characters in aot/snk) 

aredn cho : mikasa ackerman (such a beauty and strong character. i loved arden in teen wolf and think she is so cute and beautiful. funny thing i say mikasa kinda hispanic because mi casa su casa you know so i say it wrong but i’m gonna try to say it right.) 

hart denton : armin artlert (arm out hahah im srry i hate myself) (i know this is another dude from riverdale its so funny bc i swear i dont even watch or really care about the show. i guess i think whelp i need young actors so either go to riverdale or 13 reasons why. but he is so beautiful and adorable and that jawline.) 

gregg sulkin : jean kirschtein / kirstein (okokok i had a hugeeeee crush on this actor when i was young and i think he’s pretty bomb on runaways the marvel show and he’s really cute and that chin is like jean and to me this is perfect!) 

charlie rowe : connie springer (i mean c’mon guys they look basically like twins although i do like dylan for connie i feel charlie looks more like connie) 

historia reiss / krista / christa lenz : kiernan shipka 

isabella gomez : sasha blouse (i love sasha so much she is very mood and i just love my precious bean and who better than to get someone that is super funny i mean c’mon)

anthony ramos : marco bodt (i’m john laurens in the place to be two pints of sam adams but im workin on threeeeee. i love anthony especially his singing hes so frickin cute just like my bby rip marco. freckles 4 dayz)

oona chaplin : ymir 

saoirse ronana : annie leonhart

alexander ludwig : reiner braun (reiner is my favorite character in aot/snk. his past and life makes me feel sad and just in a way kinda feel bad for him even tho i don’t want to. i love him and yes read many fanfics of him and many other characters of aot/snk.)

chuku modu : bertholdt hoover (first off chuku’s voice is like butter and it makes me feel some type of way and second the man is 6′4 ladies just like mr. hoover. its just glorious!!!)

dane dehaan : levi ackerman (you knew, you knew, you knew why you actin all surprised. i mean this man will forever be real levi.) 

sonam kapoor : hange / hanji zoe (both beauties!)

chris evans : erwin smith (again you knew! i feel like chris + anything to do with military soldier stuff = captain america OR ERWIN SMITH LIKE BRUH PLS DO NOT FIGHT ME ON THIS IT IS FATE AND TRUTH NOT OPINION FAM)

johnny simmons : moblit berner 

karen gillian : petra ral 

hunter parrish : oluo bozado

marco ilso : eld jin / jinn / gin (marco is a snack yallllll)

martin sensmeier : gunther schultz 

alexander skarsgard : mike zacharias (yes lord!)

carey mulligan : nanaba 

evan peters : marlowe freudenberg (dang what a last name srry) 

camren bicondova : hitch dreyse 

patrick stewart with a mustache : dot pixis (wait i forgot his first name was dot)

jeff bridges : dhalis zachary

will smith : keith shadis (idk why i really like this one but keith’s story is sad like he wanted to be a hero and remebered and just praised for one thing in his life but don’t worry keith *cries* I SEE U!)

rashida jones : carla yeager / jeager 

ALEXANDER HAMILTON i mean lin-manuel miranda : grisha yeaher / jeager (yes i did it...i made grisha alexander hamilton...its funny when i was watching the episodes with my sister i said grisha looks a lot like alexander hamilton so i felt it needed to be done and they look basically alike so i can rest knowing i did my deed)

charlie hunnam : zeke yeager / jeager (i know pply are pretty iffy about this one but i for one love it i think they look identical and i dont care what anyone says. we are all entitled to our opinion and shouldnt get mad at each other. also i love charlie and have such a crush on him its not even funny)

jeffrey dean morgan : kenny ackerman (woo hot diggity dang jeffrey is a fineee species, he is super *cough* daddy and makes me wonder do i want a way older dude????)

jenny slate : pieck (i love jenny she is so funny i cannot but the pic of pieck is fan art so it is not mine but i really liked how it looks a lot like the anime so well job to the creator) 

ben hardy : porco galliard (i fell in love w ben when i watched bohemian rhapsody if you havent watched that like what are you doing w your life! also porco’s pic is fan art as well since i wanted color to match with the rest of the pics and not manga no color) 

akira akbar : gabi braun (gabi is i think manga but colored idk if it is fanart but its not mine)

jacob tremblay : falco grice (the pic of falco is not mine! i do not own!)

[ayyyoonohwhatimean]

morning time! w/ jaehyun+ you being sick

heyyaa! back again with a new writing. hopefully you guys would appreciate and like it though. thanks for reading!  if there’s any mistakes, I’m so sorry! xx - N.

morning time! w/ jaehyun + you being sick (jaehyun x reader)

mode: fluffyyyy fluff, slightly comedy and tiny angst! 

fuck i love him so much 

(before we start, i’m actually terribly sick rn :( and pls listen to paris in the rain by lauv while reading this! it gives me soft fluffy vibes)

“cause anywhere with you feels right, anywhere with you feels like paris in the rain” 

okay so let’s get itttt!! 

so both of you were in his room still sleeping soundly, wrapping each other’s arms around each other’s waists 

sleeping beauties aw

his room filled with you guys’ photos, his favorite LPs standing nicely on the shelf with the classic vinyl player and his speaker that he would use a lot to play your and his favorite playlist whenever you’re together

it’s simple and minimalistic but yet homey. you loved it. 

you usually would be the one that wakes up earlier than jaehyun but well not this time 

you looked at the clock standing behind the bed, oh shit it’s 10AM

your head felt so heavy and your throat feeling so uncomfortable and funny as you were trying to get up 

it was hard for you to get up so you just went back to bed feeling uncomfortable and sick

you looked over jaehyun, he’s still sleeping so comfortably, his pouty rosy lips and red cheeks with some of his dark brown hair covering a lil bit of his forehead and his eyes still shut 

“damn he’s such an art” you thought to yourself as you smiled sheepishly 

you moved to your right side and you felt jaehyun pulling you closer into his arms as he’s nuzzling into your neck 

you moved your head a little bit to look over him as he opened his eyes slowly, “hey babe morninggg” his deep morning voice echoes beautifully in your ear along with his soft smile as he looked at you and his eyes that seems to be made of stars 

your heart felt like it’s about to drop (fuck my heart would too :’))) 

no matter how long you guys have dated, it would always feel like the first time and day you went on a date with him; the nervousness, the tingling sensation, the sparks and everything. 

you replied back to him, “hey good morning sunshine”, your voice sounding hoarse and slightly unclear, starting to concern jaehyun 

he straightaway got up and put his hand on your forehead and neck, feeling them to check how high or low your body temperature feels 

“babyyy, I think you’re sick. your body feels way too warm and your voice concerns me too” he said as he rubs your back gently up and down 

“I don’t knowww, but as I was trying to get up earlier, I just felt so uncomfortable and sick. My throat still feels funny and uncomfortable and my head feels like spinning around” :(( 

he caresses your cheek lovingly with his soft delicate fingers,“let me fix it” and then proceed to leave a short but yet still meaningful and sweet kiss on your lips  

you tried to avoid from him kissing you, “heyy you’re gonna get sick!” but it was too late haha 

he laughs and smooches you all over your face like crazy, “it’s okay as long as we get sick together” 

you tried to act like you’re vomiting after what he just said and chuckled softly 

“I’ll be right back, princess. I’m cooking you something since you’re sick and I’ll get some of the medicines for you from the box outside, yeah?” he said as he got up from the bed and smiled at you 

“but babeeee, don’t leaveeee meee” you said, trying to pull his arms and stopping him from leaving the room

“babyy, but you need to eat and I need  to take care of you” he cooed 

“but take me outside with you too, I’m gonna be bored here all alone” crossing your arms as you sit and cooed back 

he giggles to himself afterwards, “you’re making me crazy, god i must be so in love with you” 

YES IT’S CHEESY BUT IT’S JUNG YOONOH IK YOU LOVE IT 

AAAAAAAAAAHHHH uwu 

you giggled too, opening your arms to jaehyun showing him as a sign to pull you from the bed, “take me with you, my man” 

he pulls your arms gently and carefully as if you’re made of glass so fragile and precious, “alright, my woman” 

he went to the kitchen to start cooking and you went to the living room which facing the apartment’s kitchen 

you rested your back on the couch with your head on the soft grey pillow as you’re trying to find something interesting to watch 

SO YOU GUYS WANNA KNOW WHAT HES COOKIN 

COOKIN COOKIN COOKING TIME 

so he’s cooking some rice for both of you, seaweed soup and some chicken soup with mixed vegetables as well as herbs that’s good for the immune system (you gotta eat healthy ok its good for ur immune system)

while he’s doing his thing cooking at the kitchen, he would look over to check on you and what you’re up to 

 he noticed there wasn’t any blanket on the couch you’re resting on so he went back to his room and got you his fuzzy blanket in case you suddenly got cold 

“hey baby, fevers can cause you to either feel really hot or cold. so, in case if you suddenly feel cold, wrap yourself using this fuzzy blanket, okay?” caressing your hair as he walked over to you to give you the blanket 

you smiled looking at him and nodded, “thank you, love. what are you cooking? It smells so good already I’m hungry dude” 

“I’m cooking...something special for us! It’s a surprise hehe” he grins cutely, like a child (isn’t he cute ugh) 

after he’s done with the cooking, both of you finally got to eat yayyyy 

sitting on the kitchen counter area facing each other, adoring each other’s presence as both of you were enjoying the meals he cooked for you and him 

jaehyun. he’s just so great, so good to be true. he’ll always be the one to pick you up when you’re down, the one to help you out when you’re having a problem whether it’s a big matter or even just a small matter, the one to light you up when everything seems to be dark to you, the one to guide you when you’re lost, the one to get concern about you even if it’s not about something to get/be concern about, the one that only stays when nobody stays with you, the one that falls asleep only after you fell asleep first because he wants to make sure that you’re safe in his arms while you’re sleeping, the one to hold you when everything seems to fall apart, the one to comfort you when you’re upset about your life. he’s your star, your world, your everything. he’s your home. 

and, 

you’re his home, too. 

you’ve always prayed for someone, like, him. :’)

ALLLL MYY LIFEEEE I PRAYED FOR SOMEONE LIKE YOUU AND I THANK GOD THAT I THAT I FINALLY FOUND YOU *sings*

FUCK I’M GETTING SO EMO SHIT 

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT EHEM MOVING ON

I love him with all of my heart 

ok so after you guys have finished eating, cleaning and shit, you went back to the couch with jaehyun behind you 

he put a box which contains all kinds of medicines (his and yours) in it on the table before finding meds for your fever and sore throat 

“here, take your meds and here’s some water so that you would feel better baby” he turned to you as he gave you one of the fever pills and lozenges for your sore throat with a glass of water on the table

you took them from his hand the pills first so that you could proceed to swallow it 

to be honest you’re not really good at swallowing pills bcus you’re afraid and you just dk how so what you usually do is chewing em (don’t judge me)

yes you’d rather take em like you’re eating a normal food instead of swallowing em like how you’re supposed to do 

jaehyun noticed how you’re not swallowing the pills the way it should be done and laughed, “you’re supposed to swallow them, you dumbass” 

after you’re done drinking your water, you hit him lightly and said “heyy, I’m not a dumbass!” 

“yes you are boo” 

“you’re a dumbass too dude” 

“heyyy! since when? I’m a very smart and genius guy plus I’m good at almost everything” he said as he rolled his eyes to you 

“since when? remember when you lost in the very first missions and other mission as well in the nct life in chuncheon and hongcheon?” you pulled your tongue out as you teased him and laughed 

“sshh, do you wanna lose your voice?” him asking you with his arms crossed and his kinda-cute-failed-angry facial expression

“aw, someone’s upset huh” you cooed, before taking one of your sore throat lozenges and put it into your mouth 

 he laughs as he slowly tryin to attack you by tickling you

“yo no stop it omg ahhHHh JAEHYUN-” 

“I can’t hear you i’m gonna tickle you until you lost your voice and can’t talk and tease me anymore” 

you proceed to attack him by tickling him too and the house filled with both of you’s laughter (uwu) 

jaehyun tries to protect and avoid himself from getting tickled by you with the pillows on his hands

when you both are finally done, you both just kinda look at each other, admiring every single details of each other’s faces 

jaehyun climbs over to you on the couch and puts his head on your stomach full of happy smiles 

“you know what, I like me better when I’m with you”, he whispers to you with his arms wrapping around your body tightly

“I like me better when I’m with you too” <3 

[skznct127treacting]

Stray Kids reacts to going to Disneyland with their s/o

Hello guys this request was submitted by .. meeee. Honestly this is the second most indulgent thing I’ve ever done on this blog and that's including the first which was me comparing Stray Kids to Disney princes but hey let a girl live!! ~ 

this took ages to do so I’m not sure whether to do moodboards again? do you guys prefer it to gifs pls let me know <3333

Chan ━━━━━━━☆

Is insistent on you meeting the characters after you confessed its something you would like to do but feared it would be too babyish for you to do. Of course in Chan’s world, the idea of something being “too babyish” for you is literally non-existent because look at you.. You’re his fricken baby. He’d buy you a customised autograph book and mickey pen and would take pictures of you with all of your favourite characters which you can damn well bet are going to become his phone wallpaper. “Y/N look! It’s Stitch!! Do you want to go and meet Stitch?~” “...I don’t know..” “Come on we’re going!” He’d laugh grabbing your hand and dragging you around, until eventually it became you being the one squeaking and getting excited.. Which lets face it you always were.. But you just needed your boyfriend to show you not to be nervous and shy ♡♡

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

Woojin ━━━━━━━☆

He wants you to have the best day ever so he’s super organized!! He’s planned out all of the meets, and the parades and the fireworks and somehow manages to get you right to the front for all of them. Also did I mention he’s going to absolutely spoil the living heck out of you!! Everything you so much as glance at he’s going to buy.. “Y/N, honey look!!” “Woojin..” “You want Simba don’t you Y/N… don’t you~” He’d say attacking you with the soft toy in the shop as he placed it under your arm to snuggle, until he found the next thing that you totally just had to have. 

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

Lee Know ━━━━━━━☆

At first he’s acting like he’s too cool to be there, but still trying to enjoy it for your sake. Heck he even bought cute Mickey ears to match your Minnie ones and has taken hundreds of pictures with you with them on, which has to you know, have earned him 10 points on the good bf chart or smthn. But halfway through the day he really starts to get into it, he’s bobbing along to the music down main street and somehow he’s bought himself a lanyard and now he’s pin-trading with everybody and honestly he’s kind of out of control but he’s living his best life .. ? Also can totally see him being really competitive on Buzz Lightyear laser blast. “Babe it’s just a game??” “Can’t talk now Y/N... Too busy beating scores and breaking hearts!” 

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

Hyunjin ━━━━━━━☆

Like Disney.. But make it “ c l a s s y. “ he wanted to make your disney trip the best, and besides, what better place to prove to you that he can be your prince than Disneyland!! Your day kind of has a duality to it, because at some points you’re on the rides and Hyunjin is being so extra? Like the drop is tiny but he expects it to be big and so his drama queen side is living! And you just know that he has to buy every single ride picture, even through all of your protests “Hyunjin nooo !! You cannot buy that !! Look at our faces !!” and he just smirks and winks while pulling his card out. But then at the same time you go to the classiest restaurant at night time and have the most romantic meal and he’s just staring at you like “:O I’m so lucky” and you’re staring at him like “:O I’m so lucky” and it’s wholesome :’)

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

Changbin ━━━━━━━☆

This boy is so addicted to glancing up at you and seeing your excited happy little face and then just melting because he love love love loveeees when you’re happy. Being at Disney has well and truly activated babychangbin, even from seeing the castle his reaction is soo cute and he’s kind of overwhelmed by how magical everything is because he didn’t expect to enjoy it this much, but 2 hours in.. here he is, with his mickey ears on and 5 shopping bags filled with gifts that he had to buy for you and himself and all of his members bc Binnie is thoughtful and precious okay?!! And idk why but I feel like he ends up enjoying Phantom Manor because of its spooki vibes and because that’s his jam, and he just keeps dragging you on it again and again and again because he’s secretly 5 shhh.

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

Han ━━━━━━━☆

Is happy enough to just hold your hand and let you drag him round the whole park, which of course you do. The two of you are the queens of snaccs and buy so many, like have you seen Han?? Have you seen how excited he gets about cake and confectionery? Well boi combine that excitement with it being Mickey shaped and you have got yourself one hella adorable and bouncy squirrel. HE has no shame, with going on all of the smol rides because he dosen’t like the big scary rides, but hey maybe you can tempt him with a Mickey waffle and a lot of whining and pouting heh.

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

Felix ━━━━━━━☆

Okay so I have this VISUAL in my mind and it’s like the two of you, and it’s winter okay.. bear with me.. And you both look so fricken cute in your big winter coats and hats and scarves and it’s really really cold so Felix bought you both a hot chocolate to share and you’re kind of messy with it but he keeps giggling and wiping it off your mouth, while trying to take pictures of you bc you look so cute right now he’s going to scream :o and when the fireworks start you huddle together for warmth and you both get a bit teary because it’s such a beautiful show and you’re both so happy and in love and he just looks at you and he gives you the biggest smile and all he says is “Y/N.. I’m so so so happy right now!” and your heart just bu r s ts with love.

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

Seungmin ━━━━━━━☆

I don’t know why.. But I just have this image of you two on the Alice in Wonderland Teacups .. and Seungmin has the plate to turn it round and you’re like “seungmin. no”  and he’s like “seungmin. yes” bc this boi loves his thrills! He wants to go on all of the big rides and rollercoasters and secretly hopes you’ll get scared so he can protect you and hold your hand :) he’s so giddy and bouncy the whole time, oh and I also have this vision where you both “look” the part like you’re that couple who have like mickey sweaters on, mickeys vans, mickey shaped backpacks eee I love- 

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢

IN ━━━━━━━☆

Okay so he is totally in his element right now? The both of you have snatched everybody’s uwus, the morning started off with the two of you having a character breakfast with the two of you having the cutest interactions with your favourite characters and I can just see him and his s/o going on peter pan’s flight together with their lil ears on just being the purest, cutest couple you ever did see! >.< I feel like honestly you’d just take it at your own pace walking around, enjoying the magic and each other’s company while all the other members follow you and stalk you bc lets face it their all fangirls of your relationship T.T

⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢⇢