#I wasn’t able to bring my pocket watch but ah well there’s always next time

[whump-ghoul]

Ghost Whump Month #1: “Are you okay?”

Summary: in which Copia offloads his insecurities to some unlikely listeners. (Just a lil' character study)

WC: 1491

Tags: angst / insecurity / mentions of depression / google translate Italian

(Big thanks to @cirrus-ghoulette for this event, Whump is my thing! Shameless plug, but I do run a Whump writing prompts blog: @promptsforyourwhumpfic!)

The rats were squeaking at him; chirping their excited noises at the food bringer who appeared a little sad. Collectively, they emerged from their habitats, a trio having to untangle themselves from an afternoon nap in one of their hammocks. They padded to the now open cage door and into the expectant palms of the newly anointed Papa.

The rats cared not for his embellished title, and that’s what he adored about them the most. There were no stakes to his presence; no expectations other than respect and care, and no need to constantly be putting out fires as he was now expected to. The rats cared not for the fancy clothes he adorned, nor the time it took for him to perfect his ritual makeup. In this moment of quietness; when the ministry was to be asleep, they cared for the man who showed them endless kindness in his ministrations.

“Ah, good evening to you too.” Copia greeted, bringing the two that had settled in his palms to his pointed nose.

“I see you are doing well, how do you like the hammock, hm?”

In their appreciation, the black and white rats licked at his nose. He chuckled.

“I’m glad to hear it i miei ratti, I’m just glad someone appreciates what I do…” he checked to see that the door to the spare room was shut before allowing the rats to free-roam. Guilt tugged at his heart when he remembered he’d been neglecting their enrichment needs as of late, so despite how tired he felt, he was going to let them roam for as long as they wished - he trusted them to entertain themselves should he fall prey to sleep.

The spare room was small; traditionally used for storage but his unconventional upbringing saw him with few personal belongings, so he decided to dedicate it to his pets. His friends - companions. After all they owned him more than he owned them - not that he'd admit it of course. All he allowed himself was a small armchair near the window with a side table to watch over the rats as they played. The wooden floor had as many spare rugs as he could find so the rats wouldn't slip as they run, as well as a myriad of toys and tunnels for them to explore.

Satisfied that they were able to entertain themselves he settled in his chair; his bones aching for rest despite his racing mind and incessant pounding behind his eyes.

“How do you do it, hm?” He spoke aloud to the rats. The large brown female, Rosa, began to scale his leg, utilising the purposeful ladders and loose threads in the trousers to get to Copias lap. Right. He’d forgotten he was still in the clothes from the morning's wardrobe testing. He’d only just had time to mindlessly toss a hoodie over his head before heading off to complete more duties regarding the next leg of Rituals. When he looked down at the pocket Rosa was trying to bury herself in, he came to the realization that it wasn’t his jumper that he had picked up. No, the dramatically oversized hoodie most likely belonged to Aether.

Copia sighed in his exhaustion - it was yet another thing he would have to rectify, yet the comforting aura emanating from the fabric had him in no rush to return it.

“They’re going to think of me as a fool.” He spoke aloud, accent thick with tiredness. “That’s If they do not already think so. I have already messed up too much on this tour of Rituals; I am forgetful of lyrics and too anxious to make a mistake. To the Ghouls, their showmanship comes easily, but to me… I think Sister Imperator may have made a mistake.

How am I supposed to live up to a sacred bloodline? I work hard, that is true, but that mostly comes from the workload given to me; not the work I seek. I’ve always been scholarly, I know this, but there’s little else to do when the other children do not wish to be friends with you - when you do not even know your own family. I do envy you, my rats; your companionship and loyalty to one another. La tua famiglia. I am reminded of this with my Ghouls.

Ah. Well. I do not like calling them my ghouls. They may have been summoned for me, but I do not wish to lay claim to them. They are their own beings; their own family. They are quick witted and sure of themselves and their chemistry during Rituals is unmatched. I would not say that I am jealous but… well... I guess I am.”

Copia couldn’t help but feel tears of frustration come to his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t have the right to feel envious.

“I shouldn’t be, no, not when I do not work hard enough to be better. Nihil likes to remind me so; that despite everything I’ll never be them. I am so tired. Physically yes, but emotionally too. I need to rest, that is what my body tells me, but my mind forces me to move; to practice, to attend mass, to constantly strive to be better.”

He ground his palms into his eyes, barely dispersing the pain with his cool, shaking hands.

“Worst of all I cannot get rid of this headache; it pounds behind my eyes and I cannot seem to sleep. I can hardly eat as it is and I know what Sister is going to say. She’ll tell me I’m wasting away; that I am not strong enough; imposing enough to be Papa.”

He sighed, tears falling free despite himself.

“I snapped at the ghouls today, and I have felt awful since. They do not deserve it, they were only asking if I’m okay… I suppose I am not, but I need to be enough for them. A Papa needs to be strong. A leader. A Papa cannot be weak like me.

Am I not enough already?”

He felt a nibble at his finger, and found all six of his rats in his lap; looking up at him with beady, expectant eyes. Rosa lifted her nose from where she chewed lightly at his knuckles. The black and white twins had decided themselves in his hoodie pocket, their tail ends poking from one side as the white male groomed Rosa, and the black and gray (the latest additions Sister definitely knows about) nervously sniffed at his trousers. Copia was immediately brought back into the room, his pounding heart slowing slightly at the reminder of his reality rather than the hypotheticals his mind suggested.

“Ah, I’m sorry, mia bellas, I have been rambling again. Are you ready to return to your cage? I suppose I should be heading to bed soon… I must try to get rid of this headache… and I have to be up in good time to complete some paperwork for Sister before yet another day of engagements.” The thought of which made his stomach churn, and his head swim.

At the words, the rats instinctively began to scale back down his leg; the Papa extending it out to be more of a ramp for the elder-most ones. He stood, swayed a little on the spot, and shakily helped his friends back to the cage. Since it was bedtime, they knew better than to move from their platform as Copia collected some treats for them.

“Ah I am running low on these chips, I am sorry my friends.” He apologized sincerely, yet another admission of guilt. He wondered when the feelings of liability and anxiety would cease as he handed them the last few of the bag; the smaller, broken ones that often fell to the bottom. Rosa, the large rat from before hesitated, instead placing her paw on his fingers that offered the treat.

“I am fine, mio amico.” He insisted in a whisper as the sounds of five other snacking rats filled the silence. She stared for a moment, then looked towards the door to the room, her ears perked. Copia gently shook the hand she rested on. Still unconvinced, Rosa still took her treat and trotted off to bed. Copia watched her go as he shut, locked and double checked the fastenings of the cage door. He trusted the rats not to escape, he just didn’t trust anyone else not to get to them; not after the hushed rumors regarding his unusual pets that always found their way to him.

For a moment, he allowed his head to rest on the cool bars, relishing in the scent of sawdust and the fruit he had left in their bowl that morning. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would reorganize their cage and refresh their food.

Rosa chirped, and he cracked open an eye.

“Yes, yes, I’m going.” He sighed, pushing away from the large cage and staggering towards the door. 

Sleep sounded ideal.

[all-the-things-2020]

All Our Future Prospects - Chapter Eleven

Summary: Claire’s time on Galadon grows short, but she and Ezra argue over something that could change his life.

Rating: PG-13

“Fuck.” Claire very rarely swore, and even then it was usually a much milder curse, but she could think of no other word that so succinctly fit the situation. She stared at the terminal screen, even though she knew the information on it would not magically change.

She glanced at the chronometer in the corner of the screen. She only had a few minutes before she’d need to leave to meet Cee and Ezra for dinner. Pushing the terminal firmly back into the table top, she went into the lavatory and splashed a bit of cold water on her face, hoping it would brighten her up a bit. She looked wan and knew that one of them would pick up on it almost immediately. Cee was amazingly perceptive for a teenager, and Ezra was … well, Ezra. She sighed. Maybe walking briskly to the school gates would bring some liveliness back to her face.

Cee was lounging against the fence, chatting with Hester. Claire greeted both girls brightly, but she saw Cee’s eyes narrow a bit. With Hester there, however, Cee held her tongue, and they commiserated about the humidity in the air that was wreaking havoc with everyone’s hair, regardless of texture. When Ezra appeared around the corner, Hester gave Cee a fist bump and went back into the school grounds.

“It was nice of her to wait with you,” Claire ventured. Cee was watching her face closely.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool,” Cee said lightly. “We don’t have any classes together so I never would have met her if she wasn’t dating Dex.”

Ezra was taking his sweet time reaching them. Any other day, he would have quickened his step to reach them sooner, but today he seemed to be simply strolling along, enjoying the sight of the clouds that swept slowly across the sky. Just as Cee started to open her mouth, concern written all over her face, Claire called out to him, “Ezra! Stop dawdling and get over here. We’re starving!”

That brought a mischievous grin to his face and he stopped several yards away, his fist planted firmly against his hip, arm akimbo as he defiantly arched an eyebrow at her. “You can’t order me about, little owl,” he declared. “I am a sovereign citizen of the galaxy, beholden to no one and captain of my own fate.”

Cee rolled her eyes and Claire relaxed a little. Once the two of them started verbally sparring, the focus would be off of her, at least for a little while.

“This is no time for poetry, Ez,” Cee called out. “Claire’s right. We’re hungry and you’re taking too long. You’re outvoted.”

“And when was this declared a democracy?” Ezra asked as he closed the gap between them. He playfully shoved Cee’s shoulder before leaning in to kiss Claire gently on the cheek.

“I thought you were a fan of democracy,” Cee countered. “Down with the oligarchy and all that.”

“Ah, but when I am the one in charge, democracy doesn’t seem like such a good idea,” Ezra said.

Cee laughed. “You’re in charge? Who decided that?”

“I did, of course,” Ezra said. “And whatever happened to respecting your elders?”

“So you admit you’re old,” Cee riposted.

Claire shook her head. They were in rare form this evening, and she was glad of it. She might be able to get through dinner without having to bring down their mood with her unpleasant news.

*****************************************************************

They sat on the steps outside the museum, eating tacos from a vendor who always set up in the pocket park next door on Friday nights. Each week, she played a different variety of heritage music, to fit the theme of that night’s menu. This time, it was authentic cumbias to accompany carne asada made from gruffalo meat.

“Have you ever had real beef?” Cee asked after swallowing a mouthful of taco.

Claire shook her head. “No. We only had synthetic meat where I grew up.” She seemed subdued, but Ezra knew better than to press her right now.

“I had the pleasure once,” he said. “I was on a transport ship, working my way from one place to another, and a corporation dignitary was onboard. Brought his own staff and supplies, like one of those kings or noblemen back in the ancient days who travelled with their whole household. He held a birthday party for his assistant, with steak and baked potatoes with real butter and everything. I was assigned to clean up the dining room afterwards and someone had left a few bites of steak on their plate. We were supposed to put any food waste into the composting bucket, for processing, but I couldn’t resist.” He closed his eyes, remembering the taste and texture of the meat even after all those years. He smiled. “Synthbeef is a pale shadow compared to the delight of that steak. I can see why humans domesticated the cow, for it is the most delicious thing I ever tasted.”

Unlike chickens and pigs, which were relatively easy to raise on board ships and in terraformed colonies, cows required too much space and were only to be found back on Earth itself. It must have cost the corp dig a fortune to bring fresh beef along just for a birthday party, and normally Ezra would have thumbed his nose at such conspicuous consumption, but had he not done so, Ezra would never have gotten to taste the fabled delicacy.

“Well, at least gruffalo are ugly,” Cee said, picking up her fourth taco. “Cows look too pretty to eat.”

Claire smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She’d only eaten one taco, when she usually gave Cee a run for her money devouring them. Ezra leaned across her and stole one from her plate, and she didn’t move. He dropped it back onto the plate and took her hand. “Okay, what’s going on?,” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Cee chimed in, her own taco quickly forgotten. “Something’s wrong. I could tell as soon as I saw you tonight.”

Claire set her plate aside and stared down at her hands, which were already fidgeting. Ezra carefully laid his hand on top of hers to still them. “Tell us,” he said.

“I got a communication from FlanCorp,” she said. “With details of my next job rotation. And the date I need to report back to Paddington.”

Ezra nodded. “We knew this was coming,” he began, but she shook her head and went on.

“That wasn’t a surprise,” she said slowly. “But … I checked the transport schedules and the transport arrives the day after my report time. Which is also my departure date on the corp shuttle, so I can’t miss it.” She closed her eyes. “Which means I have to take an earlier transport and get to Paddington about a week early.”

Ezra started to open his mouth to assure her that a week’s difference was not that much, but he saw her lip start to tremble. “It leaves next week,” she said.

Cee looked like someone had punched her in the stomach, and Ezra didn’t feel much better. They had been expecting a little over three more weeks with Claire. A moment ago that had been cut down to two, but that was still far enough in the future to be ignored for the moment. But a week? That was real.

Cee wrapped her arms around Claire and they both began quietly sobbing. He silently lamented the lack of two good arms as he longed to hug them both tightly to him, but had to settle for an awkward one-armed gesture, the stump of his right arm straining to protect his family from grief.

“It’ll be okay,” he said weakly.

“No, it won’t,” Cee said fiercely. “It was never going to be okay. It’s tragic, Ez. It’s sad and fucked up and …” She buried her head in Claire’s shoulder and cried in earnest. He didn’t bother to correct her language. It was what they were all thinking.

“I know, I know,” Claire said, smoothing Cee’s hair. “I wish I had more time with you, both of you, but … it’s just life.”

“It’s corp life,” Ezra said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Real life lets you have choices.”

Claire shot him a look. “My parents didn’t have many choices,” she said firmly. “They never signed a contract and they were still at the mercy of the whims of the corporations. So don’t blame this all on my contract, Ezra.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

She smiled weakly. “I know. We’re all upset.”

“Yeah,” Cee said against Claire’s damp shoulder. “I’m sorry for swearing.”

“Don’t be,” Claire said. “You should have heard me when I realized I’d have to leave early.”

“You swore?” Cee sat up, her grief momentarily forgotten in the wonder at Claire uttering a bad word.

“Like a sailor,” Claire said solemnly. “I will not repeat it now because Ezra would never forgive me for corrupting his tender little birdie.”

Cee rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna miss this,” she said, snuggling back against Claire. “Being like a family. Teasing each other.” She cleared her throat. “Feeling loved.”

Now Ezra felt tears threatening to spill out his own eyes. “Stop it,” he said hoarsely. “You’re going to make me cry and then there will be no end to the wailing and rending of garments and pleading with the universe and we’ll be arrested for disturbing the peace.”

They all sat quietly for a moment, until Claire broke the silence. “Okay, that’s enough feeling sorry for ourselves,” she said. “Let’s go find some dessert. I think we deserve something that’s full of sugar and not the least bit healthy.”

Cee grinned at him and they said in unison, “Fudge!” On several occasions, they had tried to talk Claire into buying a block of the decadently rich fudge made by a confectioner’s shop patronized by the students at Cee’s school. It was ridiculously expensive but so sweet that a small block could be shared among several people. She’d always steered them toward the less expensive options (if she hadn’t shamed them into forgoing candy altogether).

“This situation definitely calls for fudge,” Claire said decisively. “As big a piece as we can afford.”

*************************************************************

Three days. There were only three days until she had to board the transport and return to her real life, and she still hadn’t heard back from Salah. She had hoped to be able to present Ezra with a fait accompli, a proposal that he could trust, not some vague promise. More importantly, she wanted to tell him in person, not through an impersonal text message.

As she was getting ready to leave the hotel room, she heard a soft ping from the computer terminal.

**************************************************

Three days. Only three days until Claire would leave Galadon and exit his life forever. Ezra was a pragmatist. He knew that the odds of ever seeing her again were so slim as to be equal to zero. Cee held out a stubborn hope that he would bump into her again someday, on some far-flung world where scientists and prospectors both rummaged through the flora and fauna and geology to search for the next profitable thing, but he knew that was highly unlikely. Their meeting had been pure chance, and while he’d welcomed it, he knew that sort of luck came only once in a lifetime.

Cee had gallantly offered to let him spend the last few evenings alone with Claire. He knew she would miss the woman just as much as he would. He did his best for her, as her father had done before him, but sometimes a child needed a parent of the same gender to fully understand them. A boy needed a father and a girl needed a mother. In Claire, Cee had found the surrogate mother she secretly longed for.

He walked slowly toward the hotel. As much as he cherished every moment spent in Claire’s company, he felt a creeping melancholy that tempered everything. Claire surely felt the same, as their greetings had become more subdued, their conversations quieter and less punctuated by laughter. So he was puzzled when he saw her rush toward him as he approached, a broad smile on her face.

“You seem awfully happy for someone with only three days of me to look forward to,” he ventured.

She laughed. “Come on, I have something to show you,” she said, tugging on his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“To my room,” she said.

“Without even dinner first?,” he teased. “Why, little owl, you are positively debauched.”

“I have to show you something on my computer terminal,” she clarified. “Come on.”

His mind raced. What could be on her terminal that would elicit such a reaction? Had the corp moved her report date back, meaning she would have a few more days on Galadon? That would be good news, but certainly not enough to bring such a big smile to her face. Perhaps a long lost relative leaving her a legacy that would enable her to pay off her contract? Ridiculous, and about as likely as flying pigs. So what could it be?

They reached her room and she pushed him down in the chair at the table and swiveled the terminal screen to face him. “Read it,” she said.

He squinted at the screen. He had reached the age where spectacles were necessary for reading but a combination of lack of funds and an abundance of pride had kept him from breaking down and purchasing a pair. He read the message twice before turning to Claire, who hovered over him with a silly grin on her face.

“I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “Why did you do this?”

The smile faded from Claire’s face as she realized he was not as joyful over the contents of the message as she was.

“I … I wanted to help you,” she said.

He shook his head. “This is the ‘friend’ you got a message from weeks and weeks ago, isn’t it? You’ve been going behind my back all this time?” He was furious, but tamped down his anger as best he could. They only had a few days left together and he didn’t want to completely ruin the remains of their relationship.

“I wouldn’t call it going behind your back,” she began, but he cut her off.

“It wasn’t exactly above board, was it? You know how I feel about corps, and you know I can’t even think about doing something like this until Cee’s out of school and you know I wouldn’t do it unless I had the money up front. How dare you?”

For a moment, he thought her face was going to crumple into tears and he wished he could take every word back. Then, her face hardened and she spat back at him. “How dare you? I try to help you, figure out a way for you to get a prosthetic arm without going into debt, so you can take better care of Cee, and you throw it in my face?”

“If your intentions were so noble, then why the secrecy?”

“Because I didn’t want to get your hopes up — or Cee’s,” she said. “Because I wanted to be able to give you something concrete, not vague promises. Because I wasn’t sure if it would work out. But it did, and Salah thinks you’d be a great candidate for their new study, and I thought you’d be grateful.”

He sighed deeply. “I am grateful for your intent,” he said carefully, “but you still had no right to negotiate even a tentative agreement without my permission.”

“But I knew you’d say no out of hand, without finding out the details,” she said.

“And that is my prerogative,” he said. “I am a grown man, an independent person, free to make my own decisions — and mistakes — about how my life is lived. I don’t owe anything to anyone or anything.”

“What about Cee? Don’t you owe her the opportunity for a better life?”

“I’m giving her that,” he said. “I’m working my ass off at a job I hate so she can go to school and get her secondary certificate, so she can have the opportunities I never had.”

“But I’m not allowed to do the same for you?”

“It’s not the same thing. You wrote a few messages. You aren’t sacrificing anything. Hell, you haven’t sacrificed a thing for me, or Cee, in the time you’ve been here. We’re the ones who are struggling to survive out here, while you’re just on vacation, like those tourists down at the equatorial resorts. This has been a pleasant interlude for you, but it’s real life for us.”

“It’s real life for me, too,” she said bitterly. “Do you think I want to go back? Do you think it was easy for me to let my guard down and let you and Cee into my heart? I took that corp job because it’s what my parents wanted, and because it was safe and believe me, I know what it’s like to struggle to survive. My parents wanted me to have a different kind of life, and yes, maybe I don’t have all the freedom to come and go that you have, but at least I’m free from being cold and hungry and scared. And maybe I’m going to be miserable and heartbroken for a while, but I wouldn’t trade a minute of my time with you. And I don’t regret signing that contract. Because that’s how I survive.”

He laid his hand flat on the table. “Enough,” he said quietly. “We shouldn’t be wasting our time arguing. There’s so little of it left to us.” He turned his hand palm up and offered it to her. “If I promise to consider the offer, will that suffice?”

“Yes,” she said, taking his hand. “As long as you promise not to dismiss it without some real thought, that’s all I can ask. It’s only a year, Ezra, one year out of your life, and no strings attached. One year working for MediCorps and you get a prosthetic arm.”

He shook his head. “No more talking about it,” he said. “Not a word from either of us. And not a word to Cee, either.”

She nodded her head. “Agreed,” she said. The smile was gone from her face, and he missed it. “Now, should we get something to eat?”

“An excellent idea,” he said. He needed to get out of that room, with the computer terminal still staring him in the face with an offer that was as tempting as it was frightening.

[emzywemzymemzyvonkenzy]

THE VICTORIOUS? (Part 1)

The screams finally started to fade as the knight continued to walk, back turned and sword clenched. ‘That’s one more to cross of the list’ she thought smugly to herself. It wasn’t always so easy for her to carry out this task: she started with merciful kills, quick, peaceful kills. They didn’t last long. As time passed their resentment grew. It grew big. She would find all the kings’ men, no matter where they hid.

People cheered in joy at the sight of the knight. ‘What a hero’ they would tell their children. Life was good and prosperous. The knight had successfully completed another task for the king and she couldn’t wait to inform him.

“My lord the scout was successful, we know the whereabouts of Villain and we’ll be able to rush his castle by the end of this week”

“Very good. If that’s all then you may be on your way.” He waved his hand towards the door and waited “Well? Is that all or not, why are you still stood here?”

“Um well I thought I should bring something up.” The knight started to fidget, it was getting awfully hot in her armour “Are we sure that Villain is actually… a villain?” It was suffocating now and the silence was filling the room like a plague ‘why wasn’t the king answering?’

“Of course! How dare you question me and me decisions!” The king stood and started to walk towards the knight. “Do you think I’m some sort of IDIOT?” The king was now looming over her.

“N-no my lord I’m sorry I-“ she was cut off by the sound of the door opening. Both the king and the knight turned to face the door, it was the queen. “I’d watch yourself” he whispered as he patted the knight on the shoulders.

“Why aren��t my troops storming the villain’s castle? If this is isn’t done by the end of the week then who knows what they’ll do next” the king threw his dish across the floor.

“The raid I-it was called of b-by you sir” the poor messenger was shaking before the king and could hardly stand.

“Why am I surrounded by complete MORONS!! Someone will be punished for this.”

The knight couldn’t help but to think back on her decisions. Her regrets. ‘Maybe if I had done things differently then my loved ones would- No that king is far too corrupt, this all would’ve happened one way or another. It was just a matter of time’ they cleaned their sword, arose from their bed and set off. The kings men all started to go into hiding, the once beloved knight became notorious in just a few days. Word spread fast about who the knight was targeting and it didn’t take them long to scatter like mice: hiding away in their little holes. The knight knew how to wriggle the little mice out with cheese so their long list quickly shortened -they made sure to save the king till last.

“You will be slain down for aiding the king with his villainous tasks!” She was tired and didn’t want to make this one a long and painful death.

“Y-yo-you used to work for the king didn’t you? So s-surely you too are an evil being who a-aided the king.” The knight stopped in their tracks and thought for a moment then dug her hands into her pocket.

“Ah good I didn’t leave it behind.” They pulled out some tape and placed it over their mouth“How many people do you think said the exact same thing in the hopes that I’ll spare their life because suddenly I realise that I’m just like them. I’m NOTHING like you d’you understand? If I was an evil being who aided the king then would I be here right now, trying to stop him?”

‘That’s one more to cross of the list’ she thought ‘only a few more to go before I finally make him suffer, he’ll be praying for the mercy of death. No such mercy shall be given to a man like him’.

[havroth-traveler]

J3, moving beyond the script

The time to act was now. Hermione was about to be attacked by the troll. I had been low key preparing for this day for months. I had 2 tricks up my sleeves. When Filch shoved open the door and shouted about the troll I reached into my pocket and pulled on my ring and stepped away from the table. I was invisible, but not hidden. I moved around the room. I watched as the scene played out in front of me. Teachers left, with Hagrid to supervise the remaining students in the great hall. In all the noise of getting settled I cast the ventriloquism charm, and set my voice to be right next to harry.  I watched as he realized his best friend was missing. I watched as he searched for her. I stood quietly as he called out for help. When he singled out the same 7th year who advised professor McGonagall, I got ready. I pulled out my time turner. Mine was stronger than the ones normally found her, but not kept in a protective bubble.  When the young witch refused to help, I started moving. And whispering to Harry “This is Hogwarts, help will always be given to those who need it.”  Harry stiffened, I saw it even from across the room. The 7th year suggested he snap his finger. “Take a moment, You know the Words of Power and Chaos” I was close to him. “Raise you hand” I whispered, “Say the words and help will be provided”  I waited one hand ready to spin the time turner, the other ready to grab Harry's other hand to connect to the time turner.   He raised his hand, took an audible breath and proclaimed “Happy Happy Boom Boom Swamp Swamp Swamp”.  In a moment I brought his hand to my time turner, made a loud popping noise with my mouth and spun the time turner 1 turn back.    In in instant the great hall emptied, and Harry flinched so hard he banged his shin into the bench that reappeared behind him. He spun around. I hid my time turner, and knelt before him. I removed my ring, and immediately reappeared. I watched Harry's eyes move to the clock, and he visibly relaxed.  He had time, which meant he had time to question me. I was mostly able to explain that he isn’t the only person with a spinster wicket, and I was less prone to abusing mine than he was. We took a few minutes, and gathered our selves, and I tried my best to keep him focused on the problem at hand, the coming troll. We had 1 hour.  We made good use of that hour. Both of us invisible, harry willing to wait until the crisis had passed. As we walked we discussed how to find Hermione. He finally suggested that we find someone who could cast a Patronus and have them worn her.  “Ah, well you're in luck, your number one henchman happens to be able to cast just the spell” I knew harry stopped walking because the muttering stopped. “I overheard and saw somethings, and talked to Malfoy about it. I didn’t see yours but he can cast it, and with a little help I convinced him to show me”. I paced into an empty room, reappeared and cast the Patronus spell. Focusing on the happy thought of my friend and I spending a day on the river. The safety, the sense of belonging, and the desire to protect them. My Patronus a humming bird appeared. I focused on the thought of sharing my memory with Hermione and sent the humming bird to warn her, and find a teacher immediately, and bring back her response.  Invisible Harry followed me as I followed my Patronus, gathering no small amount of stares, as other students flowed down towards the great hall.  A few minutes later the scream of a dying cat echoed through the halls. We had time but a lot less. I turned to harry, who had reappeared when I wasn’t watching and was pulling a broom out of a bag. We jumped on, and I directed my Patronus to lead Harry to Hermione. We were fast, and the few minutes head start made all the difference. We got to her as she was standing next to a window of the 4th floor. The loud snuffing sounds of the troll came from a hallway between us.  My Patronus disappeared. harry started flying even faster. we got between Hermione and the troll right as it burst through a class room door.  It swiped at us and sent us careening sideways, into a wall. I managed to hold on and the broom kept going. Harry had one hand on the broom, and the other grabbed Hermione. The moment she was grabbed, I cast Protego, as we burst through the window.  

-------------------------

Jump

Character sheet

First post  

[elvis-has-been-dug]

forget showing up on the first day anywhere in a nice outfit to make an Impression

wear the most gremliny outfit you can get away with

*then* on the next day dress as dapper as can be, really go all out. create as much whiplash as you can. revel in the confusion of people trying to pin your vibes down

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Cuddling with Tall Vampire Mommy? Please? 🥺

Okayyyy.. so I totally set out to have this just be a sweet and tender little cuddling snippet but welll.. I’m thirsty 🤣  So, I hope you’ll all enjoy some soft, tender sex with our Lady! I know I enjoyed writing it 🤤 .. Also, I put the finger riding thing that I mention before into this one  👀  (at over 3300 words, this gets a cut 😅)

****

“Pet?”

The Lady’s voice was soft, catching you off guard as you jumped. Quickly wiping the tears from your eyes before hastily going back to your evening duties. The small wettened handkerchief stuck deep within your pockets as you heard her enter the room.. 

“Pet… look at me.”

“My lady?”

“I did not stutter.” 

You took a deep breath, only hoping that your face wasn’t as flushed as it felt - forcing a weak smile across your lips as you turned to face her. 

“Yes, my lady.”

She very slowly began to close the distance between you, a soft look in her eyes that you had yet to see there before. Her hips swaying silently with each elegant step that she took. The length of her looming over you - casting you in a deep shadow as she reached where you stood near the bed. The feeling of gentle fingers on your chin as she turned your face from one direction to the other, sighing deeply before releasing it. 

“You’ve been crying, pet.”

“I… Y-yes, my lady.”

“Care to tell me why?”  

You bit your bottom lip, slightly averting your eyes before she clicked her tongue - forcing you to look forward. An even deeper blush painting it’s way across your cheeks while you tried to think of a way to explain yourself. 

“My lady.. I.. “ 

You paused, taking another deep breath as you shook your head. The Lady only sighed, taking a seat in front of you on the bed. A somewhat tired expression across her face, the deep lines of it sharing their journey with you as they creased in response. She gave you a soft smile, patting the spot next to her on the bed. 

“Come here, pet. Sit with me.”

You looked at her curiously for a moment, but she firmly held your gaze - not dropping it until you began to move from your spot. Placing the small rag you had been using to clean the glass on top of the windowsill, you joined her. A look upon her face so fond that you had no chance at stopping the swift blush from swiftly moving across your cheeks. And you sat there for a moment, wondering how you could explain it. How you could tell your Lady that, in the simplest of words, you missed the feeling of another’s body against yours - of them holding you close as they stroked their fingers gently through your hair. You blushed harder at the thought of it, quickly clearing your throat before speaking.

“My lady, I… it’s kind of.. embarrassing.” 

“Dear, have I not chosen you as my personal servant? As my pet?”

“Well, yes, but I…”

She waved her hand dismissively, cutting you short before scooting herself a little closer to you on the bed. 

“There is nothing you can say that I would ever judge you for, my pet.. and I certainly can not help the situation if you do not tell me what it is.” 

“I’ll.. I’ll try, my lady.”

“Good, pet.”

She smirked a little as your blush grew deeper at her word choice, stroking her hand over the side of your head affectionately. And it was true, the two of you had grown closer in the weeks since your promotion. The Lady had almost seemed to be growing.. fond of you. With the nights where her desires and needs overflowed only seeming to be becoming more frequent and little more tender. You swallowed hard, trying not to allow the mere proximity of her fluster you anymore than you already were.

“It’s just that I.. well, you see…” 

You sighed as the words refused to leave your tongue. The look on Alcina’s face growing from soft to knowing as she watched your eyes begin to trace over the length of her. 

“Ah… Have you been feeling a little lonely, my pet?’

You bit your bottom lip, averting your eyes as you nodded. 

“I see… has your Lady not kept you satisfied?”

“W-what? No, no! It’s not that.. it’s just that I-!” 

She chuckled as you began to grow increasingly more flustered, allowing her fingers to stoke over your hair and down your back before finding your waist. A slight gasp to your lips as she pulled you closer to her.

“It’s alright, my pet. I believe I understand.”

“You.. do?”

You met her eyes shyly, watching the deep embers within her own grow a little softer. Her heady pheromones sweeping over you as she lifted you slightly and pulled you onto her lap. A deep breath escaping from her lungs as she leaned you both back against the headboard. One strong arm wrapped securely around you, tracing fingers through your hair, while the other rested on your thigh. 

“Is this what you had in mind, pet?” 

The light flush upon your face turned to a deep crimson, forcing you to hide it in the crook of her shoulder - snuggling in as you sighed into her.

“Yes, my lady. Thank you.”

“Such a sweet pet.”

You hummed against her neck, burying your face into it as she placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do not be afraid to ask for such things in the future. You may be my servant, but your needs are important. Understood?” 

“Yes, my lady.”

Your words were half muffled into the softness of her skin, a slight shudder from her body at the feeling of it. A single finger stroking softly through your hair, another gently caressing over your thigh - just inches from being able to slip beneath the hem of your uniform. The mere presence of her stirring a fierce heat deep within you. Relishing in the moment of it - in the simple closeness of her exquisite body. 

“I can hear your heart racing, pet. Do I have such an effect on you?”

“Pretty sure you’d have such an effect on anyone in this position, my lady.”

She chuckled, forcing cool breath across your forehead. 

“Perhaps.”

“There’s no doubt, my lady.”

She hummed softly in response. The fingers on your thigh beginning to trace idly over the soft flesh of it. Small circles turning into more abstract designs the higher up they moved. The gentle pressure of them compelling a deep want across your body - a desperate need for more of her. 

Where this wasn’t the first time you had found yourself in such close proximity to the Lady, it was the first time she had held you in such a way. With her steady breath rising and falling against your increasingly heated body. With the soft smile that rested so perfectly against the top of your forehead, occasionally gifting it with a tender kiss. You were positive that every inch of your face was flushed, that every part of your body was slowly becoming encompassed by the presence of her, and nothing more. 

Without giving it a second thought, you placed a sweet kiss to her neck - forcing a sharp inhale across her lips. 

“Pet.” 

She said the words calmly, promptly stopping the idle movements of her fingers. You blinked, quickly remembering your place as you pulled your lips from her skin.

“I.. I’m sorry, my lady.. I should have asked first.. I shouldn’t have-!”

“Hush now, pet.” She quickly interrupted, her fingers returning to softly stroke over your hair - immediately calming your nerves. “It’s not that it wasn’t appreciated.”

“O-oh.. May I ask why you stopped me, then, my lady?” 

“Always so polite, my pet” She smirked, chuckling softly. “It’s just that I’m.. unsure whether or not I’ll be able to stop myself from touching you, if you continue.”

“Ah.” 

You felt the small flame that had already been stirred deep within you ignite even further as your imagination ran off with her words - filling your mind with the most delicious of fantasies.. with memories of the times before.. of the countless thoughts you’d had of your Lady on the nights where you had nothing more than the warmth of your hands to keep you company. 

“And… what if.. I wanted you to touch me, my lady?” 

You felt a tiny growl reverberate throughout her throat at your words, the pressure of her fingers on your thigh enhancing slightly. 

“Well, then, pet... by all means, continue.” 

You hesitated for only a moment before bringing your lips back to her soft skin, a slightly salty taste upon them as you allowed your tongue to sweep gently over each kiss that you gave her. The small gasps and tiny whimpers that deliciously slipped past her lips only willing the juices between your legs to build. She was exquisite, in every sense of the word. A physical masterpiece brought life, and it were your lips that were slowly unraveling her control. 

You gasped slightly as her fingers began to move from your thigh and higher up, a whimper of a moan dancing through the air as she pressed one firmly against your clit, instantly forcing your hips forward. 

“Mmh.. such an eager little pet.”

“Y-yes, my lady.”

She only hummed in response, starting teasingly slow circles over the thin fabric of your uniform. Her touch being everything you ever wanted, and yet, still you wanted more - needed more - of her, of everything that she had to offer you. 

“Ah-! My lady... may I.. undress?” 

“Of course, my pet. I appreciate your asking, but you do not need to.”

“Yes, my lady. Thank you.”

She released her arm around your waist, watching you carefully as you adjusted yourself from her lap and slid the bottom parts of your uniform from your flushed body. A single raise to her eye brow as her gaze followed your movements. 

“You are quite beautiful, my pet.” 

You could feel yourself blushing fiercely under her gaze, and even more at her words.

“As are you, my lady.”

“Mmh.. and such a stunning blush.”

“I... th-thank you, my lady.”’

When she chuckled at your response, and you were positive that your cheeks were about to burst into flames at any second. Her fingers tracing sweetly over your hair and down your back as she allowed you to take your time to get ready. The smoldering embers of her eyes never leaving you for a second, not even when the last bit of fabric fell from your eager body - an inherently intense feeling sweeping over you at just the knowledge of having the unwavering attention of the one and only Alcina Dimitrescu. 

“Ready, my pet?”

“Yes, my lady.” 

She held out her hand to you, smiling softly at the slight tremble to your fingers as you took it - pulling you close to her as you shyly smiled back, unsure if you would ever grow accustomed to her affections. 

“Is there anything specific you had in mind today, pet?”

She smirked as your gaze fell to her fingers, chuckling before she nodded. 

“Very well, pet. Let’s try something a little more intimate this time. Are you okay with that?”

“Of course, my lady.” You replied, not quite sure of exactly what she meant until she rested her hand out on her lap, fingers up. 

“Take your time, pet.” 

“Yes, my lady.”

You swallowed hard, lifting yourself back onto her lap. The sheer thought of her fingers filling you so deliciously only making the juices in your core begin to steadily drip. A deep breath escaping from your lips as you slowly straddled your Lady’s hand - a thigh on each side of it as your eyes locked onto hers. A fond smile painted across her perfect lips.  

“You may hold onto me for support if you need to, pet.” 

“That’s .. very kind of you, my lady.”

“I want you to be comfortable, pet. Always.”

You blushed a little at the utter softness to her voice - at the absolute gentleness to  a voice that could normally scale over mountains. That could reach the darkest corners of death and find its way back again. But now, every word she muttered dripped from her tongue like the warmest of honey. 

“Well… same goes for you, my lady.”

She chuckled as if you had just said something truly remarkable. As if you were the first person outside of her family to actually care about her comfort.

‘Of course, pet.” She replied, humoring you with a smile. A sunlit gleam to her eyes as she leaned in, placing a single finger under your chin as if lifting it to meet her. You felt yourself growing more flushed the closer that your lips grew. A hitched breath across them as she stopped just short of her pressing hers against you. 

“You may... kiss me, my lady.. if you want.” You blurted out shakily.

“Such a sweet pet.. thank you for your consent.”

You were barely able to muffle out an incoherent reply before her lips were on yours - they were sweet and indulgent, and immediately set the world around you spinning. A gentle touch upon your cheek as she deepened the kiss.. pulling you closer as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered to her. You melted into it, moaning slightly as you began to lower yourself down onto one of her fingers. A divine sting across your body as you felt yourself stretch around her. 

“That’s it, pet.. nice and slow.” 

She murmured the words against your already kiss-swollen lips and you nodded in response - wanting nothing more than for her to keep kissing you. For her sinful lips to stay exactly where they were and never leave. She pulled you back in, kissing you eagerly. The intoxicating feeling of her tongue sweeping over yours causing your entire core to clench deliciously against the length of her. A profound heat spilling over you like a wildfire, engulfing everything in its sight. A steady rock to your hips, holding onto your Lady’s neck for support until she pulled away. The absence of her lips almost offensive to you, making you whimper.

Smirking, Alcina locked her eyes onto yours. “Worry not, my pet. This tongue will be yours for the remainder of the evening.” 

“Fuck.”

The curse slipped from your lips before you even had a moment's thought to stop it, to even think about it, closing your eyes as you waited to be reprimanded - but the Lady only chuckled.

“Yes, pet.. that too.”

As if to punctuate her words she thrusted her finger firmly up inside of you, forcing you to fall forward. The soft fabric of her dress cool against the flushed skin of your face - silken ivory against a sea of crimson as your body fell directly into her. Her supple flesh soft beneath you - and you swore, for just a second, that you felt a slight chuckle to her breath.

“Comfortable, pet?”

“S-sorry, my lady.” 

You lifted yourself up, blushing fiercely as you adjusted your body - resting your hands gently against her ribcage. 

“Quiet now, pet. Are you comfortable?” 

You gave her a small nod, the girth of her finger pressed exquisitely against your walls as your hips started to move again. Juices dripping down as you eagerly took the full length of her back into you - forcing your desire to trickle down to her wrist with each indulgent thrust. Your fingers gripping into the soft fabric of her dress as you held on tightly, the pace of your hips only becoming more and more greedy. Rolling your hips firmly down into her, writhing against the air - against nothing more than the softness of her body. The relentless heat that had embedded itself deep within your aching core only continuing to build - continuing to smolder over inside you. Your body ignited - engulfed - as the fierce blush that had made it’s way across your cheeks and down the landscape of you steadily grew more and more brilliant against the crisp white of your Lady’s dress. 

“You’re taking me so well, my pet.” She whispered.

Small whimpers turning into deeper moans as she thrusted the length of her finger as deep inside of you as she could. Every desperate cell in your body set a blaze as she matched the pace of your hips, forcing the deep crimson of your face into the softness of her chest - muffling your moans into her as you held onto her like a lifeline. The utterly tender touch of her fingers stroking through your hair, the relentless movements of her other in your core - the most exquisite contrast between firm and soft - just like the Lady herself. 

“Such a sweet, perfect pet.” 

She placed a soft kiss to your temple, only igniting the fire within you even further. Your body rocking fervently against her as the unrelenting pleasure inside you grew - as it built - steadily swelling like the tidal wave of warmth that was currently coursing through your racing heart. She picked up her pace even more, the cool fabric of her dress the only escape from the feverish flame that was spilling over you. A deep moan reverberating though your body as she held you close, as her finger mercilessly increased it’s rhythm, willing your hips to do the same.

“That’s it, my pet. Let your Lady hear you. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

A profound cry ripping from your body as she placed the base of her hand directly against your clit. 

“Ah-! Mmph.. fuck, my lady.. I .. you feel so good.. I’m-” 

Your face fell back into the soft cushioning of her chest, body too overcome with the raw and unfiltered pleasure that your Lady, and only your Lady, could deliver. She hummed softly, placing another soft kiss to your skin. The firmness of her finger inside you - of her heated skin against your clit - forcing stars behind your eyes, causing a galaxy of bliss to promptly spill over you. Her gentle touch holding you close as your core stretched exquisitely around her - your pace growing fervent - growing more and more desperate for release. The softest of moans slipping from your mouth, imbedding themselves into the silken fabric of Alcina’s dress. The coolness of her breath across your ear as she leaned down to whisper.

“Come for me, pet.. come for your Lady.”

The white hot pleasure that immediately spilled over you - that inhibited every cell in your body, every pore that covered your overly flushed skin - compelling a barrage of fireworks behinds your eyes. Her thumb against your clit, merciless as it circled over you.. her fingers inside you, divine - wholly wrecking you. Every part of you brimming with energy, alive with nothing but passion for her - for your Lady - as you brought your core down onto her finger vigorously, forcing an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain to spread across your body. Screaming out her name in unbridled ecstasy as your pleasure crashed over you like a fever dream, causing your whole body to shudder - to convulse deliciously against her. Her fingers holding their pace until you eventually fell breathless on top of her. Your perfectly flushed face buried deep within her chest - breathing in her scent as your pace slowly came to a halt. 

“You did so well, my pet.”

Alcina’s voice was soft, gentle as it danced across the cool air of the castle. Her fingers in your hair as she stroked over you tenderly, splattering sweet kisses across your forehead.

“..... Thank you.. my lady.”

Your words were muffled into her, your face buried deep within her dress as you held onto her - keeping her close. Relishing in nothing more than the solace of the moment - in the perfectness in it - in the utter softness that she had allowed herself to show you. Small whimpers still escaping from your throat as your breath began to steady. 

“Shhh, my pet. I’ve got you.. for as long as you need me.”

You snuggled in closer, inviting her presence to wash over you - to completely envelope you in her safety and warmth - finding the simplest of comfort in her words. A content smile upon your lips as a single word spun unhindered through your mind in response.

‘Forever’

[floraltypes]

OHSHC Meeting The Parents

Who - ohshc hosts x reader

Type - fluff !

Summary - the hosts meeting your parents

AN - my requests are open so request something!

unedited :/

Tamaki

You had told Tamaki that your mother was dying to meet him

The woman wouldn’t stop asking you questions regarding him after you dropped a hint you were dating someone

So, one day she threatened to lower your allowance if you wouldn’t invite him over

Hence, why you are running around with trying to finish up your hair and the maid trying to help is stressing herself since you won’t sit down

When the doorbell was rung the butler quickly opened it and your mother and you both rushed down the stairs to try and get there first

Tamaki looked nervous in the beginning but his eyes lit up once they landed on your figure

“Y/n!” He called out, jumping a bit

Tamaki was very much dressed for the occasion, no surprise, and cleaned up well

You mother put a hand on her heart while Tamaki squished you into his arms

“So adorable, my little y/n,” Your mother cooed

“Uh, Tamaki, I can’t breathe,” He let you go quickly, put kept his arms on your shoulders

He soon realized that your mother was there and quickly turned around bowing a few times and apologizing for not greeting her sooner

“No worries dear, why don’t we go to the dining room to begin eating. Y/n’s father will be later due to work,” Your mother told him

The three of you sat at the larger table, Tamaki sitting right besides you

Your mother asked him many questions and he happily answered, staring at you most of the time and your mother could just tell how much he was in love

She thought he was so cute on how he kept asking you questions throughout dinner to involve you in the conversation like ‘what is your favorite class?’ ‘Y/n, you like that game too, as well, correct?’ ‘Y/n sure is very intelligent!’

Your father ended up being very late and didn’t eat with you three

You and Tamaki decided to go to a one of your extra rooms where there was a large TV and couch

You both sat down besides each other and watched something on the television, Tamaki holding your hand

At one point, Tamaki was trying to reach over you to reach a drink on the table besides you, but it ended up being farther than he thought and he feel ontop of you

He looked up from your legs with a awkward, yet cute, smile

At that exact moment the doors swung open and your father walked in

“I apologize for being late, your mother said the boy was in he- why are you laying inappropriately on top of my child?”

“Uh, i-, no, never!”

Let’s say your father didn’t think the highest of Tamaki like your mother did…

Kyoya

You were both working on some homework one day when you brought up the idea

“Do you think it’s about time to meet my parents?”

“Should I?” He asked back

To be honest, Kyoya knew he was a respectable man and knew how to behave, but still had some nerves

You also didn’t want to exactly have to sit through a long dinner with your boring parents who only knew how to talk about business deals and money, but it would be something your family would eventually ask you

When it came time, you were meeting Kyoya and his parents at a restaurant with your own

When the two of you viewed each-other your eyes lit up a little

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Kyoya’s father greeted, bowing in front of your parents who soon exchanged the gesture

You greeted Kyoya’s father, your second time seeing Kyoya’s parents again after the dinner you had with them not too long ago

“Y/n,” Kyoya pulled out the chair for you, which you soon sat down on and he sat right beside you, your other side being taken by your mother

“Kyoya, you’re the youngest, correct?” Your father quickly asked, sending a glare

“I am the youngest son, yes,”

“Ah, so you should know what competition is like,”

“I do,”

“Good because they’re many men competing for my daughters hand in marriage,” He laughed, soon turning his attention back to your mother who was chatting with Kyoya’s parents

He mumbled something to himself and grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his

You rubbed small patterns with your pointer finger as a quiet way to reassure him, sending a small smile which seemed to lighten his mood highly

He knew that with you competition seemed worth it, something he was willing to put up with as long as having a chance with you is the prize

When the two of your guys’s families were getting to depart, Kyoya turned to your father before leaving

“I know competition, and I’m very successful in all types of it, I will win the competition for your daughters hand, I just hope you will be able to accept the victor,”

Hikaru

Telling Hikaru that your mother found it important for her to meet him seemed ridiculous to him

Both of your parents weren’t apart of the relationship, so what should it matter what they think of the other

You loved him and he loved you, he didn’t need anyone else to say otherwise

“Come on Hikaru! My mother will continue to bother me until you finally agree,”

“Only if you promise me something,” He quickly told you, snickering secretly at his brilliant plan

“Anything, I’m so tired of her complaining,”

“A kiss,”

You quickly moved your lips to hover in front of his and connected into a sweet and short kiss

His cheeks brightened to a vibrant pink and he scowled turning his head away

“Not now,” He mumbled.

A week later he was outside your door with a cocky smile and a bouquet in hand, (advice from Kaoru)

“Hello, Mr and Miss L/n,” He bowed, handing the bouquet to your mother

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you son,” Your father put a hand on his shoulder

“Son?” Hikaru asked silently, looking at you with confusion

“My father always wanted a boy,” You tell him, laughing a little

“You look nice Miss L/n,” Hikaru complimented your mother, already

“Oh Y/n, he is so kind!”

Though at first, Hikaru thought meeting your parents was ridiculous, now he’s laughing with them at some joke your father made and being invited over next week for another dinner

Kaoru

He’s another person who isn’t so confident about the idea

You both were snuggling on his bed, his arms wrapped around your waist and head lying on your chest while you combed through his hair

“My grandma wants to meet you,”

“She does?” He looked up with a spectacle look

“She isn’t bad, much more open to things considered her age,”

“It makes sense why she would want to meet me, so I guess,” He sighed, then taking in the comfort from the position he was in.

“I don’t want to make a bad impression,”

“You won’t! She just wants to treat you to one of her iconic desserts,”

The both of you slowly got up from your spots and got ready to go to your grandmas that evening

When she opened the door, she gave you a tight hug and then soon threw her arms around Hikaru, squeezing him tightly

“Y/n says you love chocolate, I made some treats so she can show you to the dining room,”

He ended up losing all his nerves after taking a bite of the cake

“It’s amazing!”

“I’m so glad you like it. You’re such a sweet young boy, take some more,”

He felt really comforted by your grandmother and comes back next week after she sends him a letter inviting him

When you came home after a shopping trip with your friends, and saw your boyfriend chatting with your grandmother in the kitchen you were very confused

“Hikaru, I didn’t know you were coming over. Did I forget to tell you I was seeing my friend today?”

“You did,” He walked over you you and gave you a hug and small kiss on the cheek

“Then, uh, why are you here?”

“Your grandmother invited me!” Soon your grandma walked in with three cups of tea

“Oh thanks grandma, did you here me come in?” You went to take the other cup before someone came in behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“She wanted to meet Kaoru’s twin,”

Mori

The both of you were in the library doing some reading

You had recently been describing this book to him that you fell in love with and he wanted to read it for himself

You just wanted to read in general

It was a quiet time, but the both of you sat near each other and your head was lying on his shoulder

You had totally forgotten that your dad was begging to meet this man

“My dad wants to meet you,” You voiced, looking up at him while he just nodded, eyes still on the page

“Which one is that?”

“Dad is the really energetic one, papa is the really smart one,” You told him, the poor boy still having trouble with the names for your two fathers

“Ah,” He hummed, moving a hand to rest on your thigh

“Great, I’ll tell them you will be over this weekend!”

“Mhm,” He rubbed a small circle on your clothed thigh and the two of you kept reading, basking in each other’s presence

When the day came Mori wasn’t exactly nervous, but he wasn’t excited

He had brought a treat that his mother wanted him to bring over

“Mori, is it?” Your papa questioned, while your dad quickly took the treat.

Your boyfriend nodded his head, and scavenged through his pocket for a little box

He handed it to you, and you tilted you head, letting a small smile take over the features on your face

“ARE YOU PROPOSING TO MY BABY ALREADY?!” Your dad asked, jumping and trying to rush to grab the box from your hands, getting pulled back by your papa

“No, it’s a present, calm down hun,” He said with his stern voice, though your dad could easily tell her was just trying to be considerate of you and Mori

“Thank you,” You looked up at Mori and pecked him on the lips

“DID MY BABY JUST KISS HIM?!” Your dad yelled once again.

“You kissed me after our first date, remember?” Your papa reminded the man

“Mori, please come in, take a seat, eat, smile, talk, dance, sing, whatever you please,” Your dad pushed him into the living room and your papa followed

You soon pulled the two aside, sending a look to them

“Don’t be rude to him, I already told you that he doesn’t speak much and that’s his choice that we need to respect,”

You soon felt arms on your shoulder and looked back to see your boyfriends figure towering over yours

“It’s okay Y/n. I’m willing to answer questions to help soothe your parents worries and to show my love for you,” He smiled down at you and placed a kiss to the top of your head

That was when your papa and dad knew that this man was truly a good one

Honey

“Y/n-chan! I want to meet your mom!” Honey told you one day while the two of you were waiting for Usa-chan to get cleaned at the cleaners

“How come?”

“I want to meet the person who helped make you so kind!” He exclaimed, gripping your hand tightly while the two of you walked through town

“Sure, if you really want to,” You shrugged. “My mom is a big cake fan so I think the two of you would get along,”

“Yeah!!!” Honey cheered and the two of you continued your walk with grins on your face

A couple of weeks later your mom was finally home after her stressful business trip and was excited to meet the boy you had been dating

“Mother, this is Mitsukuni,” You introduced her to the childish blonde who was holding on tightly to his stuff animal

“You can call me Honey! It’s so great to meet you! Y/n-chan told me you like cake, so I brought some!” Your mother put on a fake smile and showed him to a area to place it

She soon put on her shoes and coat and the three of you took the limousine to a restaurant nearby

“So, you’re a third year?” Your mother asked once the three of you were seated at a table

“Mhm! Along with my cousin Takashi, he is one of Y/n-chan’s friend as well,”

“He’s the tall one right, I thought he was your boyfriend, someone you could depend on,”

“Mother,” You mumbled, loud enough for her to hear, hoping she would behave kindly to Honey despite the boy not acting like a normal third year

“Y/n can depend on me! I promise! I’m very dependable,” Honey placed his stuff animal on the ground and sat up straight

“You are,” You looked over at him, agreeing with your boyfriend.

The rest of the dinner was a little awkward and when Honey asked to order cake your mother shot him down, it took a lot for the boy to try and hold on his tears

He thought for sure that he would get along greatly with your mother

“Well, aren’t you a cutie?” A man walked up to you, walking alongside you with Honey on your other side holding your hand, your mother was a bit ahead on a phone call

“Um, can you please leave me alone, I’m not interested,”

“Oh come on now doll, don’t act so uninterested, don’t lie, I know you are,” He was about to place a hand on your shoulder before he was on the ground and Honey was holding him in the position

“Y/n! Y/n! I’m so sorry,” Your mom rushed to you and quickly hung up the call looking at the man on the sidewalk and pulling you into her arms.

“I’m fine mother, he didn’t touch me. Mitsukuni got him for me,” You reassured her, pointing to your boyfriend who was watching the man run away

“Oh Honey! I’m so sorry for how I behaved, you really are a good boy,” She pulled him into her arms. “Why don’t the three of us go get some cake to celebrate!”

Haruhi

It was something your father found important

You and Haruhi had been chatting for awhile and your father had overheard you on the phone many times

The poor single father couldn’t figure if your giggles were friendly ones or ones someone would have when talking to a crush

Though he was intelligent when it came to taking care of the colleges he owned, he knew nothing about girls and their crushes

So, he had to ask his secretary for advice, which he did often since he was raising a girl on his own

The advice he received was to just… ask you?

“Y/n, sweetheart, who are you chatting to?”

“Haruhi, Fujioka Haruhi,” You told him, then getting back onto the phone

He rushed to his phone and asked his secretary to found out some more

When he received the information, he rushed to you again, a bit confused it was a commoner, but open to the idea

“I want to meet this Fujioka, and their parent,”

You told Haruhi and she understood, thinking it made sense that your father would want to meet her, especially since Haruhi liked you a lot and was thinking of ways to ask you out soon!

“I’m Hiro, a pleasure to meet you….?” He looked at Haruhi’s father with confusion.

“Ranka, sorry, I’m coming back from my job,” He apologized, whipping the scarf around his neck a little tighter. “You must be Y/n, Haruhi talks about you often! You’re so adorable!”

“Thank you!” You smiled, then grabbing Haruhi’s hand and dragging her into your larger home

Haruhi was very nervous to meet your father, she didn’t want to say anything and tend to just try and stay glued to your side

“Haruhi, you chat with Y/n often, um, that’s good,” Your father was nervous as well, he didn’t want to make the assumption that you two were dating and risk embarrassing you, something he unfortunately did often

“Yeah, Y/n is nice,” She nodded, and you continued to drag her up to your room, showing her trinkets and books

Ranka and your father went to your garden to chat and have some tea

“You have such a lovely home,” Ranka complimented. “Where is Y/n’s mother, at work?”

“She actually isn’t with us,” Your father coughed. “She passed away after having Y/n,”

“I’m so sorry, Haruhi’s mother hasn’t been with us for a while as well,”

Something in common!!?!

They soon started to talk about the difficulties on raising children on there own, and found each other to be much kinder when the nervous aspect disappeared

(they end up calling each other often when they need more advice with their kids, they become good friends!)

“Haruhi is always talking about Y/n, it’s so cute! My little girl is in love..!!”

“Love?!?!” Your father choked on his tea

“Why yes, it’s so painfully obvious that Haruhi doesn’t even realize it herself! I bet it is the same with Y/n, I hear the way she chats and her giggles through the phone,”

“Y/n is in love?!?!”

“Yeah! I think Haruhi is going to ask them out soon!”

“Ask Y/n out?!?!” Your father was about to pass out on the spot

But, Ranka helped him breathe and she revealed just how great of a daughter Haruhi was that your father didn’t seem too scared

Though he didn’t chat with Haruhi too much because the both of you were too busy chatting with each other, he felt she was a good person

“Well, Haruhi, fine young woman, treat my child well, you are well, um, yes,” Your father nodded and Haruhi did the same

The two won’t go and see a movie together, but they’ll be able to get rid of some nerves soon enough and hold some nice conversations together

[heyheyloki]

U&I

Summary: The reader begins to realize his feelings for Saiki.

Saiki x M!Reader

Word Count: 8711

1. The Best Friends

Being friends with a psychic definitely had its ups and downs. At first, you didn’t notice a thing out of the ordinary with Saiki, well, granted you were kids when the both of you met so naturally you just wanted to be friends and thought nothing more. However, he noticed something odd with you the moment you two met.

He couldn’t read your mind.

Actually forget being about to read your mind, none of his psychic abilities worked on you. He couldn’t see through you and when he touched you without his super thin transparent gloves on nothing happened. You were basically immune to him.

At first, he thought something was wrong with you, or that maybe you had some psychic powers as well. That wasn’t the case at all. In reality, you were a normal human without any powers or tricks. That stumped Saiki even more, but it also became the soul reason he wanted to be your friend as well.

For one, he didn’t have to deal with your thoughts. Two, his image of you wasn’t ruined because he can’t see under your skin. Three, your calmer personality made him relax. And of course all those other things like your kindness and stuff, but those were irrelevant the moment he knew he couldn’t read your mind.

It’s been years since he met you in the park during recess, and now here you guys were, 16 years later and still friends. Oh, there was one thing that bothered him about you.

“What to hang out today?” You asked as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Sure.” Saiki said. Yep. That’s right, since he can’t get in your mind, he actually has to move his mouth when he talks to you.

It was a bit weird to others that he never did it with anyone else other than you, but he didn’t care.

On the way home he couldn’t help but notice you eyeing his antennas, the things that keep his powers stable. He turned his head towards you and gave you a curiosity look.

“Do those things poke at your head at all?” You asked, moving you hand up to poke at the top of the pink ball. “Like, does it make your head ichy?”

Saiki shook his head. He knew he had to talk to you at some points, but times like these he didn’t. He enjoyed that about you too, that you don’t force him to talk all the time. You knew it was a bit weird for him to talk, he explained it to you when he told you all about his powers.

“Hm,” you hummed out. Your hands going back at your side and into your pant pockets. “It would for me, if I was you. They just look painful, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do if you don’t wanna blow up the world.”

Saiki nodded his head, his eyes continuing to linger on you. It was one days like these when he saw you thinking so hard about something that he wished he could just take a peak. At some points, he loved the silence, especially when the both of you were watching movies, but right now, especially in this moment, he’d give anything to know. It was mostly prominent when he’d stare at you during class and you’d have this far out look in your orbs, you drew him in, and perhaps that’s why he fell for you.

Though, there were other factors that won his favor. Mostly the fact that, unlike everyone else, he can’t stare right through you and just see your raw muscles and pumping organs. Instead, he was able to focus on your handsome face and not get side tracked about your racing thoughts. You were the only person in the world that make him feel somewhat normal. That was a love-hate relationship at times.

“Think I could sleep over tonight?” You suddenly asked, “we don’t have school tomorrow.”

Saiki stared at you for a moment just to relish in that fact that nothing worked on you. No telekinesis, mind control, no nothing. He was going to have to win your favor just like everyone else. To him, it wasn’t normal, but looking at you, he didn’t seem to mind the extra work.

“Sure,” Saiki said. He still had trouble talking aloud, hell, sometimes he will actually use telekinesis and wait for your response only to have pure silence. “My parents are leaving for a wedding, so the house should be free for a while.”

When the two of you got to Saiki’s house, it was a bit peaceful until his parents had to head out. You liked his mom and dad a lot, they were like your second family, so you wanted to wish them a good time. It was for one Saiki’s dad’s coworkers.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Saiki’s dad asked his son. “You’ve met Kirishima before, and you can bring [Name] as your plus one date.”

You knew Saiki wasn’t going to be interested in a wedding. He always told you normal happy events for others is misery for him since he can hear the jealousy and pity that the crowd is thinking. You felt sorry that he couldn’t turn it off, but you were glad that you were the only person he could catch a break with. However, when you looking over at Saiki, he seemed to entertain the thought.

It was a new side to Saiki, one that made you confused. It was always either you or no one. You could tell the way he wanted to get away from many of the people in his class that seemed to have declared themselves his friends from a small interaction. Sure, you felt their interest, but it was just a bit sad to you that Saiki could never actually enjoy friends unless they were pure. Otherwise, he could hear all the backstabbing thoughts or otherwise stupid comments that go around in their brain that was thought to be private to them.

“I’m going to have to pass,” you commented. “I don’t have a suit, besides, you two should enjoy the night. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you both go out alone.”

Saiki’s mom smiled widely at you. Her eyes clouding over with a wet film before wrapping her arms around you for a tight hug. “Ah, thank you, [Name]! What would we do without you?”

You chuckled softy at the comment before saying, “Who knows, I rather not think about that.”

When she finally let you go, you and Saiki waved the both of them off as they left. Honestly, you weren’t sure if they’d even make it back at a reasonable time. It was a wedding, after all. Oh well, as long as they make it back drunk and safe rather than drunk and not safe, you didn’t mind. You were sleeping over anyway, so right now, you just wanted to hang out with your childhood best friend.

“What do you wanna do?” You asked with a calming tone.

Saiki turned his head to you. “TV?”

“Sure,” you smiled. However, as soon as you turned to the living room, you noticed the absolute mess his parents left behind. So, out of the goodness of your heart, you said, “How about you find something and all clean up this in the meantime. Sound good?”

Saiki nodded once more. He truly thought your actions were kind, but he rather have you watching TV with him than picking up his dad’s dirty clothes. He knew his father tended to be sloppy, but this was just a mess.

As you were about to pick up a pair of jeans, all the clothes that were strewn about the floor suddenly started to float in the air and shoot into the open washing machine. The trash floated itself into the garage while everything else was moved around to make it look clean until otherwise.

You pressed your lips together as your brows furrowed in annoyance. Once you turned to Saiki and saw his innocence face, you knew you couldn’t be angry but you had to ask, “Do you really want me to watch TV with you that bad?”

“Yes,” Saiki stated.

You sighed, your lips parting as you left the oxygen leave your lungs. “Fine, but let’s both clean up a bit before than. It’ll be a nice surprise and a way to thank your parents for letting me stay the night.”

Saiki nodded. “Okay.”

It took a bit of convincing on your end to let him let you help out. You may not have powers, but you didn’t want to take advantage of his. You knew it was effortless and he made it seem like it didn’t affect him whatsoever, but you knew every time he does something it takes a toll. His powers aren’t perfect.

You both ended up cleaning the living room, Saiki’s room, and now you were in the kitchen sorting the trash. Saiki was using his powers to sort while you whipped down the countertops.

“Good grief,” Saiki said aloud, his voice drawing your eyes to him. He was crouched down with two bags in front of him and the garage floating upside down, it’s contents was either going in the first or second bag.

“What?” You asked curiosity. It wasn’t all the time that he speaks from his mouth without you talking first.

“How could anyone have let it get this dirty in here?” He asked aloud. “I mean, really it’s a wonder we don’t have bugs.”

You were going to respond. That was until he suddenly shut his mouth, a chest deep grunt leaving him as you notice him stare at something on the furniture next to him.

It was a cockroach.

Mind you, the moment you realized what it was you weren’t the least bit surprised when he suddenly teleported. Saiki hates bugs. He could read the minds of humans, as well as animals, but he couldn’t with bugs. He thought they were small minded icky things. Hell, he couldn’t even let his powers touch the thing.

You counted down the seconds before he came back. It was around ten, maybe fifteen. He also teleported right behind you.

“Welcome back,” you greeted and watched as his eyes dart towards the floor.

“Sorry, I may have overreacted.” He muttered. “I just hate them.”

“I know,” you hummed out before looking around and grabbing a cup and piece of paper. Saiki watched you as you let the roach crawl on the piece of paper before placing the cup over it so it didn’t run away. You were quick to put it outside and close the window after so Saiki didn’t worry about it coming back in.

“All gone,” you cheered with a smile. “Now, let’s watch TV, ya?”

2. Saiki’s Pushy Friends

PK Academy was a school were many different personalities and people collided. It was always fun to meet new people in this school, yet on the other side of the coin, sometimes they were more than a little odd. Not like you can speak, your best friend was a psychic. Though, he wasn’t delusional like this one guy in your class that declared himself Saiki’s friend. His name was Kaido. He thinks he has powers and has an evil organization following him around.

Then, you have Nendou. Basically, he’s stupid. Not that you minded, but sometimes being stupid isn’t the best thing in the world, especially now.

It was the sports festival at PK and Saiki and you had to participate in it. You both were on the same team since all the teams were decided by class. This also gave you a good idea of the friends Saiki has made. It was safe to say that Kaido was growing on you. You felt a little bad for the guy, what can you say.

Let’s not forget about Hairo as well. You knew him a bit more from hearsay than the others, plus he was class rep. Though, you had to say, he was a little too overly enthusiastic.

It was kind of a surprise to see Teruhashi, the most popular girl in school, try and interact with Saiki. Though, it was a bit amusing since to him, she’s nothing more than walking muscle. However, you did think he would swoon over her like all the other guys in your school if she was like you. However, you knew Saiki had no interest in romance so you don’t care either way.

Finally, Nendou. You were originally going to say that you didn’t mind the guy that much and thought maybe he would be a good thing for Saiki. However, after just watching him take out one of the antennas from Saiki’s head, you started to wonder how much of a danger his stupidity is to Saiki.

You watched that pink haired friend of yours collapse to the ground with a hard thud as soon as Nendou pull the thing out of his head. You were quick to rush over to him and sit by his side. When you flipped him over, since he fell face forward, worry grew about your body and infected your bloodstream.

You heard protests about turning him over, but at this point all the worried voices drowned before they were even audible to you. His lips were parted as drool leaked from his mouth and went down his chin, his eyes dead and without life as darkness surrounded them. It didn’t take you long to recover and swipe the antenna Nendou was holding and pop it back in its rightful place in his pink locks.

You didn’t know how long it would take for him to wake up, or if he’d wake up at all. All you knew was to sit and wait for him to wake up. To your surprise, he woke up rather quickly. Maybe a mere minute or so after you fixed him up. When his eyes opened, you felt yourself suddenly get surrounded as Saiki’s friends crowed over him to ask how he was.

You noticed him using telepathy to talk to everyone when Hairo said, “You passed out after Nendou took that think out of your head, lucky for you, [Name] put it back right away!”

“Yeah, he saved your life!” Kaido spit out next, their hands placing on my shoulder out of respect and gratitude. 

Saiki’s eye then direct to you, his voice never leaving his lips for a moment before you noticed him flinch.

‘Ah,’ you thought. ‘He tried to use telepathy with me again.’

When he noticed, Saiki just nodded in your direction. You knew he was thanking you, he didn’t need to word it out to you. The look in his eyes was enough.

Lunch came immediately after Saiki ended up waking up, and it was understatement to say he didn’t want to be bother with anyone else besides you. He was quick to drag you to the roof of the school to eat.

The both of you sat against the railing, lunch in your laps. You wanted I just forget about the scare that Saiki gave you, but the after effects he was having wasn’t making that easy. He was having trouble, and it was easy to see when his hands were shaking so much that he couldn’t even pick up his food without it falling back in the box.

You side eyed him, his expression one of concentration as he tried to pick up his food again. Though, he dropped it again.

He sighed quickly after that, only looking down at his food as you saw his mind wonder off.

Once you finished chewing whatever food you had in your mouth, you placed your food to the side and moved so that you weren’t side to side, but rather across from Saiki’s body now. He didn’t register your movements until he saw a hand come into his view and pick up an item of food with his chopsticks.

When he turned to you, you had the chopsticks in your dominant hand and your other under the food so it didn’t drop to the filthy ground.

“C’mon, lemme help,” you said. It was easy for Saiki to pick up the worry in your tone, however he knew not to address it or else you’ll just either deny it or baby him. “Open up.”

He obeyed your command after a moment, opening his mouth wide enough for you to place his food in his mouth. The hand that was meant to catch the food if it fell made sure Saiki closed his mouth, his fingers placed a bit of pressure under his chin to shut his jaws before slowly trailing away. The food wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the chill that ran down his spine at your lingering touch that crawled on his skin.

“I could hurt you.” He suddenly spit out. It was pained. “Having my antenna taken out messed up my powers.”

You leaned your head to the side, your eyes never falling from his. “Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“You should go.” He stated.

“Why?”

“I just told you.”

You smiled. “Saiki, you could never hurt me.”

He looked at you like you had something stuck in your teeth. “You don’t know that, I may not be able to read your mind, but I don’t know how my other powers react to you.”

You remained quiet for a moment before shuffling your body side by side again, your head falling to rest of Saiki’s shoulder. You felt him flinch at the contact, his muscles even began to tighten just out of fear.

“Yanno,” you started out saying, your hand coming up to play the antenna that you could reach. “It’s odd to me how these things are the only thing keeping you stable.”

“Is it?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Small things like these verses your powers. The thing that gets me is that these things actually win in that fight. Though, I suppose it does complete the look you have.”

“And what look is that?” Saiki asked as he gazed down at you to see your eyes already on him. He could feel his fingers twitch as he watched you say shamelessly, “The cute, mysterious loner type.”

Saiki’s lips parted as he gazed at you. He quickly recomposed himself when he noticed you waiting patiently for him to respond. He sighed before asking, “Mysterious loner? Where’d you get that?”

You laughed before sarcastically questioning, “yep, I wonder where.”

3. Your friends are my friends

You don’t know how you got wrapped into this, but perhaps it’ll allow you to know Saiki’s friends better.

Currently, you were walking with Kaido, Nendou, and Saiki to a good ramen shop Nendou suggested. You were dragged along when Nendou remembered you from the Sports Festival and as Saiki’s friend. They never really got the chance to speak to you since you’re usually out the door as soon as the bell rings, but today they finally caught you.

At some point Teruhashi joined the group, though you feel like she kinda took over since now the boys, except for Saiki and you, were fawning over her. Saiki and you took it upon yourselves to give them all room to talk to her, so you both sorts trailed behind.

It was silent for a while, the only noise was Nendou or Kaido talking to Teruhashi. However, you caught the, “what does that even mean,” that Saiki mumbled under his breath.

“Hm?” You hummed. “What does what mean?”

It was obvious to you he didn’t realize he said that aloud. But he just seemed to be glad that only you heard that.

“Teruhashi wants me to go ‘oh wow’ or something to her.” Saiki revealed. “I don’t even know what that means.”

You kept your gaze on Saiki for a moment. “So, she likes you?”

“I guess,” he muttered. “I think it’s more that I’m the only guy that isn’t kissing her feet.”

You watched Teruhashi interact with Nendou and Kaido. You know that, normally, she wouldn’t take time to hang out with these guys. However, because of her crush on Saiki, she bares with them. In all honesty, she seems a bit perfect. Being able to deal with them just for the person she adores. It’s easy for anyone to do, and not a lot of people would even bother.

“She seems like a good fit for you.” You suddenly uttered out.

When Saiki heard that, he felt his hands twitch. He didn’t like that, not one bit. What irked him the most was that it seemed natural, like you actually meant it. And, of course, he had no way of knowing if those words were genuine or actually forced.

“No way,” Saiki stated coldly. “Never in a million years.”

“Damn, that’s cold, Saiki.” He heard you say, a teasing tone wedged in your voice.

“Why do you keep calling me Saiki, anyway? We aren’t acquaintances.”

“Hm?” You questioned. “I thought you don’t like me calling you by your first name in public?”

Saiki sighed. “Well now I’m telling you I don’t care.”

Saiki knew this way of showing that you were closer to him than anyone would ever be may have been childish on his part, but when he heard his first name come from your lips in front of his other ‘friends’, he felt more than satisfied. 

4. Friendship Can Bring Romance

Being able to rest during class was one of your guilty pleasures. Even if you got called out by your teacher, you didn’t mind. It was better when it was raining outside, the patter of rain when it hit the window made you want to nap.

“Hey,” a voice called out to you. You didn’t listen though, it wasn’t important.

“Hey, [Name],” it called out again. Okay, maybe you should wake up. Then again, sleep. You could always sleep later though.

You fluttered your eyes open as you felt your body being pushed around. When your sight became focused, the blurry figure in front of you showed a blue hair kid. You knew him, but from where?

“Saiki asked me to wake you up, sorry,” he confessed.

Oh, right. That’s Kaido, Saiki’s friend.

“Hm? Where is Kusuo?” You asked in a groggy voice, your hand coming up to wipe your eyes.

“Oh, he went home.” Kaido informed you. “Something just came up, I guess.”

“Alright,” you hummed before the end of your lips pulled upward. “Thank you, Kaido.”

It wasn’t easy for Kaido to wake up the quiet kid. Kaido only met the guy once or twice, and when he was hanging with him, you only stayed close to Saiki. It was kinda odd, but Kaido understood your attachment to the pink haired man. Saiki was Kaido’s first friend, after all, so he knew how awesome the guy was.

Though, he’s never got the chance to speak to you. He knows Saiki never really goes anywhere with you, and somehow you always end up by his side. He just always seemed to miss you when it came to getting the chance to introduce himself so Kaido was pretty glad when you came along the trip to that ramen place, even if it was a dumb and he got distracted by Teruhashi.

Kaido knew you were the closest person to Saiki. He’s pretty sure that not even Nendou is as close to Saiki as you are. And those two are best friends. Kaido didn’t know the extend of how long you two have been friends, but he does know from watching that Saiki has respect for you. So, it was critical that he makes a great impression with you so that he can become closer to Saiki and maybe you as well.

“S-Sure, no problem!” He stuttered, his bandaged hand retracting from your shoulder and holding them up in the air in a surrendered notion.

“Do you live around here at all? I’ll walk you home as a thank you.” You said as you stood from your seat and began to search for your bag.

“What? You don’t have to do that, really, it isn’t necessary!” Kaido spit out quickly, his words jumping all over the place.

“It’s really no trouble at all,” you stated as you put your bag over your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get going before the rain gets worse.”

The rain eventually stopped when both teens got closer to your house. Kaido’s was further ahead, so he thought it would be better if he just walked you home instead so you didn’t have to walk more than you have to already.

“So, you’ve been friends with Saiki since he was little, huh?” Kaido asked as you explained why Saiki trusts you so much. “That’s pretty awesome! What was he like back then?”

“Pretty much the same.” You answered. “Though he did get more handsome throughout the years, and he used to be kinda sweet. Now, not so much.”

“I see, so you guys have been through it all together.” Kaido replied.

“Basically, though, he did start to worry me a bit since I was his only friend for a really long time,” you confessed. You paused as you looked up at Kaido and gave him a smile, “But I’m glad he finally made a friend like you.”

Kaido could feel his heart beat a million miles an hour just at the words you strung together. He never heard kinder words than those, and he was even more thrilled that he succeeded in making a good impression on Saiki’s childhood friend!

“It’s, uh, n-no problem, really!” Kaido muttered out as his whole face began to fluster, his hands going everywhere.

“Oh,” you hummed out.

“Hm?” Kaido questioned. His nerves going down. “What is it?”

“Did you know you were dragging your scarf the whole time?” You asked curiosity as your hands started to real in the extra fabric.

“What?” He asked out of pure shock. Though, realizing that he doesn’t make a fool out of himself he said, “O-Of course I did! It’s a fashion choice.”

“Not the best one,” you stated as you stepped closer to the blue haired male.

Kaido’s eyes widened as he stated directly into your colored orbs, watching them dance solely for him. It was like getting attention from a loved one, but this attention make him nervous to the point where he thought his face was going to explode with red. Kaido’s lips slowly started to disappear as the scarf started to build up around his shoulders and neck.

“There you go,” you said, “much better. Now your scarf doesn’t get more dirty and you look even better.”

‘Even better? What’s that supposed to mean? Does it.. does it mean he thought I looked good before?!’ Kaido thought.

Kaido let out an awkward laugh as he played with the end of the scarf. “O-Oh, haha, thank you.”

“Sure,” you hummed. “Now let’s get going.”

5. Blessing Turned On Jealousy

What’s that saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Yeah, that’s it. See, that could apply to this yet at the same time it would go a little different.

More like, the enemy of my best friend is my friend. At least for your situation. You see, walking home with Saiki has now turned into walking home with Saiki, Nendou, and Kaido. Not that you mind, but sometimes you really do wish it was back to when Saiki and you got to spend time alone together. However, being friends with Saiki and then having his friends automatically become your friends may have some perks.

Like now. Bumping into Kaido’s mom was totally accidental. But, in the end it payed off. Why?

Because coffee jelly.

“I know it’s not easy being friends with my son because he’s so shy, but please be patient.” Kaido’s mom announced as she placed the coffee jelly down in front of Saiki and you.

“Please don’t say that mama—I mean—mother.” Kaido pleased, his voice cracking as it got higher with embarrassment.

Overall, the beginning was a very nice. Hell, it was damn near perfect. Although, you just had to snoop around. Well, it was more like exploring Kaido’s room.

Your fingertips brushed along the spines of the many books Kaido had stacked up in his bookcase. It was seriously amazing how many books he had, he even had some original copies of some famous old books.

“This is pretty awesome,” you muttered to yourself before your eyes spotted something that didn’t quite match with the others. In all honesty, you were simply curious. However, curiosity did kill the cat. In your case, more like awakened the Saiki K.

“Hey, Kaido, what is the Jet Black Wings?” You asked aloud as the group sat down eating whatever snacks were about. You would always hear either chewing or at least some conversation, but after that question left your mouth it was dead silent. You felt like you killed something, but when you looked over you noticed Kaido’s face beat red. Seriously, his entire face was as red as a blood moon.

“P-Put that back!” He stuttered out, the blue haired boy suddenly running up to you to snatch the book from your hand.

As he reached for it, you held it higher. Even if he was about the same height or maybe a inch or so taller, you just needed to make him miss his hand from grabbing it.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m just curious.” You calmly said. “Is it bad or something?”

“N-No! It’s nothing, uh, bad! Just give me it back!” Kaido begged this time around, his hands trying desperately to grab it from you. Okay, maybe you were being a little mean at this point, but it was kinda fun to tease him.

You began to back up as Kaido trying to nab the book in your hand. “Just explain it!”

“No! Never!” He shouted.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, though, that was your fatal mistake. Having yourself distracted by your own humor, your mind didn’t take into account the pile of prep books scattered about until it was too late. You quickly lost your voice, as well as your balance before slamming your head hard against the wood floors.

“Woah! You guys okay?” Nendou asked out of genuine concern.

As much as you would have liked to answer him, you were too concerned with the pain pounding into your skull like a jackhammer. Seriously, this is gonna give you one massive headache.

You scrunched your nose as your finally gave effort to open your eyes, though, they permanently remained open when you noticed a face staring down at you, a body on top of yours. You guessed that during the fall Kaido tried to save you, but only got dragged along instead.

“H-Hey, um, are you okay?” He asked under his shaky breath.

You only nodded before trying to avoid his gaze in any possible way. The position you were in didn’t help whatsoever in that department. Instead, you hoped that Kaido would take the hint and get off. That plan wasn’t looking too good cause all that was running through his mind was how you looked under him. Let’s say, the thoughts he had left a distaste in Saiki’s mouth.

Originally, he was just gonna let you handle it, but after hearing Kaido’s perverted thoughts about you, that plan blew up.

Saiki stood up, leaving his coffee jelly half eaten before grabbing Kaido by the back of his shirt and yanking him off of you. Saiki gave some strength into that but not enough to launch him into the bookshelf like he wanted too. He knelt down to come to your level and help you up, your massive headache being noticeable when you held onto the back of your head.

“Damnit, that really hurt,” you muttered to yourself but Saiki heard it clear as day.

It wasn’t long after that he took you home as well as the left over coffee jelly. Saiki advised you to stay home a day just to let the pain die down a bit before going back to school, so, the pink haired boy was all alone today. And all alone to everyone else meant to bother him more than usual.

Teruhashi, Nendou, Hairo. All of them. Though, it was a bit weird that Kaido wasn’t bothering with him today. Not that he was complaining, but he couldn’t pinpoint the answer until he heard Kaido’s thoughts, ‘I need to ask Saiki for permission. They’re best friends, it would be rude if I didn’t ask permission to ask out [Name].’

Never mind. He didn’t need to know that.

It was around lunch time that Kaido walked up to Saiki for the first one, the blush that littered his cheeks made Saiki want to gag for a moment.

“So, uh, Saiki, I have to ask you something.” Kaido uttered out lowly. Clearly, this was nerve wracking for him.

“What is it?” Saiki asked telepathically.

“Well, it’s about [Name], yanno, our [Name]?”

‘What other person has that name?’ Saiki thought. ‘And don’t say our, it’s creepy.’

“You see, I, well, I think I like him and I’d like your blessing to ask him out!” Kaido shouted, his body bowing at an almost 90 degree angle.

Normally, Saiki would just say to do whatever since he could read [Name]’s thoughts and see that he doesn’t like Kaido in that way. However, the one person in the world that Saiki actually wants is immune to his powers. He knew he needed to shut this down fast.

‘No way.’ Saiki responded.

“Thank you so much, Saiki, you won’t—wait—why not?” Kaido asked aloud, his voice getting higher the more he freaked out. He thought this would be easy, he means, it was Saiki. The most chill guy ever actually gave him a hard ‘no’ to asking out his best friend. Kaido shouldn’t be surprised, even though he is.

‘Because I said so,’ Saiki strictly put. He knew it was wrong to say this, who was he to say no to something that isn’t his business. Though, the feeling of relief that he still had a chance was more satisfying in the end.

By the time Saiki got to your house it was basically as soon as school ended. He used teleportation to get here as fast as he could, as well as just appear in your room. He wasn’t expecting you to still be asleep, though, he supposed this wasn’t too bad.

The pink haired male carefully walking up to the bedside of his best friend. It was odd to see your hair going in one direction instead of all over the place like normal, and don’t even get him started on the soft snores that came from your nose. Snoring isn’t usually the most attractive thing in the world, but this light snores from you made him think of the habit as cute.

Now, he would normally wake you up. But, just allowing himself to look at you for a moment longer without any consequences never hurt anybody. Saiki sat himself down on your floor, his eyes keeping to your closed ones as they slowly began to travel down to your lips. He doesn’t know what came over him, but it seriously began to freak him out when he started think about Kaido touching his lips with yours. After the freak out, jealousy was spiraling around in the psychic. He never knew that Kaido, of all people, would actually develop romantic feelings for you. If he did, he would have never allowed the both of you to interact the way you did at his house the other day.

Saiki let out a sigh before standing up once more, his hand came up to your shoulder slowly and began to shake it. It wasn’t long after that your eyes fluttered open and gave him that soft smile that caused his heart to skip a beat.

6. School Trip

The school trip was always the most looked forward to activity in high school. This year it was a three day trip to Okinawa. While you were excited to spend some time at a gorgeous place like Okinawa, Saiki was definitely less excited.

As kids talked with their friends in a group or just at their desks, you were currently sitting on top of Saiki’s desk with the pink haired boy sitting in the chair. This wasn’t something you always do, especially since at times Saiki has pushed you off out of retaliation, but after a moment or two of still being there, you knew he didn’t mind today.

“You excited?” You asked him.

“No. I don’t get the appeal.” He spit out, his eyes closing as he moved his head down. “I could get to Okinawa in three minutes.”

“Kusuo, not everyone is like you.” You explained. “So don’t go getting moody on this trip, I’m not letting you ruin it for me.”

“I won’t, I’m just saying a fact.” He replied.

You were about to continue with things you’re excited to do during the trip before Hairo came around to the both of you with a clip board in hand. He was responsible for dividing rooms.

“Saiki, [Name], did you guys decide on your group for the class trip?” He asked politely. “You should have three boys and three girls in your group.”

Saiki didn’t say anything, instead he just rested his head against your forearm. Perhaps he wanted Hairo to think he fell asleep and leave it to you, or maybe he was actually saying that he didn’t care as long as he was with you. Either way, you smiled at the contact and said to Hairo, “Kusuo and I will be rooming, it doesn’t matter who else is in our group.”

“Okay, great!” Hairo exclaimed as he wrote it down. “Kaido and Nendou are still available so I’ll just place Kaido with your group, and then randomly place you guys with a girls group.”

“Thanks, Hairo,” you hummed out as he walked away to probably inform Kaido about the rooming.

You never minded contact with Saiki, in fact, you sort of enjoyed it. However, seeing him still like this, even with Hario now gone, you worried.

“Hey, Kusuo,” you called out.

No answer.

“Kusuo?” You asked this time. And when he didn’t answer again you unconsciously moved your hand up to his head and moved it back to where you could look him in the eyes. Saiki’s face was still without expression, though, those eyes worried you. He seemed, almost, upset.

“Kusuo?” You asked. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, signaling that nothing was wrong. You knew he was lying.

You tilted your head, some of your hair moving with gravity to expose part of your forehead. “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not.” He said, his voice was steady and yet, that look in his eyes still bothered you.

You knew he wasn’t going to budge but still, just because you’re going to let it go now doesn’t mean that you weren’t about to keep an eye on him.

Throughout the beginning and the first day of the trip, you kept an eye on Saiki. He seemed way more tired than usual, but that didn’t startle you. Instead, it was how he was by your side more often now when Kaido was around. You weren’t an idiot, it was pretty obvious. You didn’t mind Saiki’s attention, but you didn’t want him to think just because you were friends with Kaido that he’d be put second.

“Kusuo, can we talk?” You asked him as the two of you had the room to yourselves. The others were out and about, but the two of you decided on an early night.

“About what?” He asked as he set up his sleeping area.

“Today.” You started out. “You’ve been acting weird around Kaido. Did something happen?”

You watched Saiki carefully, so carefully that you noticed his fingers lightly curl around the blanket. You didn’t want to push him, so instead of pushing him to speak, you allowed yourself to be silent and let him take his time. You don’t remember how many minutes pasted, but you swear it felt like decades.

“Nothing happened.” He informed you. “His thoughts just aren’t for my taste at the moment.”

“His thoughts?” You questioned as you slowly approached Saiki on his blanket until you were right in front of him. “Okay, then, what’s got you all bothered? Let me guess, he’s thinking dirty things, right?”

“Sort of.” He replied.

“I bet it’s about Teruhashi,” you theorized. “Is that why you don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not about Teruhashi.”

“Really? Then who?”

Saiki went quiet once more.

You sighed. Your head moving down to get a glimpse at his face. It wasn’t until you moved your hand over by his, your finger tips brushing with his accidentally to get more stability as you leaned in did you hear him finally confess.

“It was about you.”

To say that you needed a minute to take that in was an understatement. Kaido was a good guy and all, but it was kinda startling to realize he liked guys, as well as girls, since you didn’t suspect that even for a minute with him.

“Seriously?” You asked once more.

Saiki nodded. “He asked me if he could ask you out.”

“And what did you say?”

“No.”

You couldn’t help a smile crawl upon your face with that one. You knew it was a bit hard to read Saiki, especially when it came to you, but you were just beyond happy to hear that.

“Good,” you suddenly shot out. Saiki’s head moving back up in an instant to see your happy features. “I don’t like Kaido like that anyway, saves me from breaking his heart.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.” You hummed out. You knew this may backfire on you in more ways than one, but right now, you didn’t care. The happiness you felt told you to take a chance and throw out the bait. “I know you can’t read my mind, but I actually do have someone I like.”

Saiki aimlessly stared at you for a moment and took in the words you confessed to him. It was an odd feeling, the rapid beating of his heart, but perhaps this was finally the start of things going his way for once.

On the second day of the trip, everyone went to Emerald Beach. It was one of the many places were people could stare at others and no one would think anything of it. A perverts dream. Though, for Saiki, he just wanted to hang out with you.

“Where’s [Name]?” Kaido asked Nendou as Saiki stood behind the two.

“He said he had to go buy a swimsuit. The one he brought apparently went missing.” Nendou told the blue haired boy.

Now, that want a mistake. Sure, it may have been a dirty trick but Saiki rather die than see you in the swimsuit you brought. After all, you bought a shirt with it. He knew you didn’t take off your shirt often, even at the beach, but he was determined to see you with just a pair of shorts.

Much like how all the guys that crowded around the girls changing house waited patiently to see Teruhashi in a two piece swim suit.

It was a while after Teruhashi came out, and when everyone was in the water that you made your appearance. You had your hands wedged into your swim shirt pockets as you allowed your feet to take in the hot sand that felt magical between your toes. You gazed around for a moment before noticing pink hair sitting under an umbrella.

A devilish smirk crawled on your features as you began to slowly approach the male. This may give Saiki a heart attack, but it was worth it. As you stood over him from behind, you attacked. Your body shot down as your arms wrapped aruund his neck and pushed your chest into his bare back.

“Hey, what’s a cute guy like you doing all alone at a place like this?” You teased, allowing your voice to go on for some time so that he realized it was just you.

Saiki immediately flinched at the contact before noticing it was just you. However, when he noticed the touch of your skin against his, he could feel his entire body heat up. The sensation was new, he’s felt his face go hot before, but his entire body was a new one.

“What took you so long?” Saiki tried to play off.

You just sighed and got a tighter grip on the male, your chest pushing more into his back. “Someone stole my swimsuit. Sadly, I didn’t have enough money to replace the whole thing, so I had to go by some swim shorts.”

“Hm, as least you’re here.” Saiki stated, making sure not to comment on the ‘stolen swimsuit’.

“Yeah,” you uttered as you released Saiki from your grasp and sat down next to him. You gazed out at the beautiful ocean that was filled with laughing people with this loving look in your eyes, all the while not realizing Saiki’s held that same gaze as he stared at you.

When you did turn to him, he completely lost himself in his mind as his eyes wondered about your figure. You weren’t the most fit guy in the world, but you did have these subtle yet enchanting muscle lines along your upper body that made Saiki lose himself.

“I saw that.” You suddenly said. Saiki’s eyes now darting back to yours. “You just checked me out.”

Saiki saw no way out of this one. So, he just confessed it. “So what if I was?”

In all honesty, he just expected you to laugh and tell him that it’s only fair if he does the same. However, the twist was unexpected and, well, definitely appreciated. He watched as you gazed down, this bashful look in your eyes as you did everything to avoid his gaze. Your body language wasn’t helping either. Your fingers were tapping against the towel and the heel of your foot was moving back and forth.

Maybe this trip wasn’t totally for nothing.

7. All That Was A Secret

Spring break. It was one of those weeks that Saiki went to go visit his grandparents all the way in the middle fo nowhere. So, for the most of this break, you were home alone. 

It was kind of boring. This break was definitely not one that you looked forward to, more now then before, especially after the beach during the class trip. Those words always ended up repeating in your mind, way too much then you thought they would. Then again, you shouldn’t be surprised. All those days that you’d try to subtly touch him, tease him, it was just a way to relieve yourself of the pent up emotions you’ve had for him for a few years now. 

Currently, you were in your room upon your bed, hugging one of your pillows close to your chest. You never tried to dwell on if Saiki felt the same or not, but recently, it’s been clawing at you more and more. It wasn’t like you didn’t think you had a chance, but more if Saiki was more comfortable just staying friends. You would understand, even if it would hurt, you’d do it for him. You’d do anything for that guy. 

You sighed before slowly lifting your body off the bed. Today wasn’t a good day for being sad, it was summer break, after all. You knew you had to get your mind off Saiki, and him being away made it a bit easier. So, you grabbed some clothes from your closet and laid them on the bed. You weren’t sure what you were going to do, but you were determined to fine something to take your mind off him. 

You let your pants drop to the ground before taking the ones on your bed and letting your legs slip through each of the pant legs. Next, you stripped your shirt off and took in a deep breath. You paused for a moment before dropping the dirty shirt on the ground and grabbing the new one. In all honestly, you never really pay attention to your surroundings when changing. But, does anyone? It wasn’t until your head went through the hole on the top of the shirt did you realize that the bed in front of you was now missing and the wall you were staring at was not the wall of your bed room. When you turned your head, you locked eyes with Saiki in an unfamiliar room. 

“Huh?” You uttered under your breath before your eyes widened, your face felling hotter than usual before frantically pulling your shirt all the way down. Once down, you opened your mouth and said, “You can’t do that without me knowing! What if I was in the middle of a shower or something and not just changing?”

“I would have given you some of my clothes.” He replied nonchalantly.

You bit the inside of your cheek before crossing your arms over your chest. “Why did you teleport me anyway?”

“I can’t stand it here.” Saiki confessed. Of course, you knew he didn’t exactly enjoying visiting his grandparents but he has never done this before. “Just hang out with me. I’ll send you back after.”

You sighed. You can’t exactly say no after that, so, with that Saiki and you began to watch a movie. It wasn’t one you two watched before so it was easy to get lost in it. Though, it was also easy to focus on Saiki when he suddenly placed his hand on top of yours as you guys watched. You weren’t too sure if he thought you wouldn’t notice, but there was no way you were going to pull away. After all, it’s not like he placed his fingers between yours, if he did that, you don’t know if you could handle it. 

After a half an hour into the movie you finally got the plot of it, and you weren’t amused at all. It was a best friends to lovers troupe. More specifically, childhood friends that drifted apart only to be brought back together by work and now slowly are developing feelings for one another. Let’s just say now, you were a little more than nervous. 

Thank god Saiki couldn’t read your mind, because now, you feel like you’d give him a headache. You couldn’t help but ask yourself if he knows and is only doing this to taunt you, or maybe this was all just a big coincident. Yeah, one massive coincident. In reality though, Saiki was just teasing you. He had no idea of your feelings but he wanted to watch the movie with you to implant the idea in his mind of the possibility.

Well, his plan was working. Maybe a little too much. Though, as you were about to spit something out, your eyes suddenly shot down to the floor in embarrassment. Yep, a make out scene. Of course, Saiki had no idea about that, but it was better than just the sappy stuff cause now it was really ingrained in your head. 

Once it was over and you had somewhat of your cool back you couldn’t help it. You needed to ask. If it blew up in flames, then so be it. 

“Hey, Saiki,” you uttered out lowly. Saiki caught it immediately and turned his gaze on you. “I have a.. question.”

“What?” He asked.

“Well,” your voice trailed off as you moved your eyes down to where both of your hands connected. “We’ve been best friends for a long time now but, have you ever, um, thought about doing...that?

Saiki remained quiet for a moment, his thoughts going everywhere before thinking to himself, ‘All the time, actually.’

As much as he wish he could have said that telepathically, he could never try to say that vocally. So, he just opted for a nod and watched your body flinch. The hand he touched growing warm.

“You’re hot.” Saiki suddenly spit out. This time, you brought your hand back to your body so he couldn’t tell anymore. 

“S-So what?” You stuttered out.

To say that Saiki didn’t like this side of you was an understatement. He’s never never seen you so flustered before, and it was really adorable to look at.

“It’s cute.” Saiki commented, his body leaning in just to see your face closer.

You turned your head to the side, eyes darting to the tv just to look away for a moment to compose yourself. You knew that there wasn’t gonna be another perfect moment like this so, you slowly reached over to place your hand on the back of Saiki’s neck. It was warm. When he noticed what you wanted as you started to lean back and gently pull him with you, he complied quickly until he gazed at you from above. Suddenly, he was jealous at the fact that Kaido got to see this view before him. 

He stared at you for a moment before watching you bite down on your bottom lip, his mind doing backflips at the want to read your mind, but also at how good you looked under him. 

“Kiss me.” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“If I do,” Saiki uttered lowly. “I might not be able to stop.”

“That’s okay.”

[dr3amofagame]

I really love when people write about c!wilbur manipulating c!dream so I was wondering if you could write on about the smp realizing that c!wilbur manipulated c!dream into being a lap dog for him but a hell lot of trouble for then and if you could add c!wilbur taking advantage of the fact that dream is a god during a fight that would make my day. Hope you have a great day.thank you. Love your work.

ooh yeah - c!wilbur is back and GGG-ing as good as ever, , which Really makes you think abt what it’s gonna be like when he interacts with c!dream again. this ended up being a little more c!sapnap centric than i intended, hope that’s alright haha. (and thank you so much for the kind words!) 

tw: implied abuse, torture, drowning, dismemberment, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, dark content, prison arc/pandora’s vault, c!sapnap critical? not really?, dark portrayal of c!wilbur (typical MAD duo shenanigans)

Sapnap isn’t expecting to find anyone when he storms out in the middle of the night - he’s tense, they all are after the fiasco at the prison, but really his thoughts are filled with Karl once again going inexplicably radio silent for days on end and Quackity ignoring all of his questions with a simple “i’m busy” that he’d failed to follow up even twelve hours later, so Dream and Wilbur and whatever the hell happened that left Pandora’s Vault - obsidian, indestructible, tall and dark and proud - half-crumbled and sunken into the sea are just about the last things on his mind.  

Even so, he’s not an idiot, so he had enough foresight to pack a few potions and gather his armor and weapons before stepping into the summer night - it’s cool under the moonlight, a soft breeze cutting through the otherwise stifling weight of the humid air, and the comfortable night is enough to make his anger die down, just a little. Kinoko Kingdom glows soft and warm from the lanterns Foolish had scattered all over the place, thick with the earthy smell of fungus and flowers, and he takes a deep breath before walking to the city outskirts to hopefully clear his mind.

He’s no stranger to late-night walks; his temper had always been fiery, even as a child, and he’d figured out pretty early on that the easiest way to deal with it was to walk or run until his brain was too tired to think anymore. Walking at night also meant he could take out some of his frustration on mobs as well as the satisfaction of setting a random patch of forest on fire without worrying about burning down someone else’s property, and once he got good enough with a sword and shield to come and go relatively unscathed, Bad had stopped his worrying enough to let him do whatever as long as he came back in time in the morning. Sapnap frowns as he hacks at a random branch in his way with an axe, watching as it falls in a spray of leaves and crashes to the ground; he hasn’t seen Bad in a while, not since he became obsessed with the whole Egg thing. Quackity had mentioned some cryptic things, and Karl was adamant that they avoid the Egg as much as possible, but he probably should’ve at least visited, or something. Bad always knew what to say when it came to messy things like this.

Though - Sapnap laughs wryly - it’d never been this bad, before. Karl distant and absent, Q somehow even more so with a new glint to his gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. George, usually asleep, never around, expression perpetually foggy like he doesn’t know where he was. Dream- evil, insane, awful, somehow so familiar it hurt and too much of a stranger to recognize. He wonders when it all got this bad. He wonders what it says about himself, that he didn’t notice until it was far too late.

“Fancy seeing you out here.”

Sapnap whirls around, sword drawn; the figure staring back at him doesn’t even flinch. His eyes narrow at the sight, stance widening, shoulders tense.

“Wilbur?” He keeps his voice wary, guarded, trying his best to keep surprise from coloring his tone. Wilbur grins at him, tight-lipped, the planes of his face faintly lit by the moon shining over them, facial features only barely visible in the dim light. Without really meaning to, Sapnap cranes his head to look around at the surrounding forest, but nothing moves or makes itself known outside of the figure still staring at him, smirking. “What- what are you doing here?”

And where’s Dream?

Because Sapnap might not know much about what went down at the prison and what Dream’s plans are and the whole mess that he’d been so desperate to put behind him and utterly failed at doing so, but what he does know is that the two of them - Dream and Wilbur, Wilbur and Dream - had been all but inseparable, strangely attached to each other in a way that spelled out nothing but trouble for the rest of them. The rest of the server had been compiling sightings of the two in the hopes of being able to stop whatever it was that they had planned, but Sapnap knows his former friend, brother, and even if he doesn’t know Wilbur, his reputation more than precedes him: the two of them are smart, not to mention paranoid as fuck, and the rest of them have a better shot shooting targets in the dark than figuring out whatever the hell was going on in their heads with the two of them working together. Either way, he knows that they’d never been sighted apart - it was always Wilbur standing on a hill with Dream sitting next to him, or Dream hacking through mobs as Wilbur followed, or the two of them stepping into a fortress and leaving minutes after - until now.

“Could ask the same of you,” Wilbur laughs, just a shade to the left of friendly, and the moonlight scatters through the leaves and glints off his glasses. “Don’t be so tense, man! I’m just going on a walk, thought I’d enjoy the night. Didn’t see anything like this in Limbo, you know.”

Sapnap winces at the reminder, that Wilbur is here and alive in defiance of law and reason and the universe itself, but Wilbur barrels on, seeming unaware of his unease.

“Anyway - how are you doing, man? Haven’t seen you around in a while.” He leans back, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, stance loose, relaxed. “I’d ask Dream, but he’s been in prison for a bit, you know? Most of what he knows is pretty - ah, outdated, not that I tell him that.”

“What are you planning?” Sapnap snaps, grip tightening around the handle of his sword. “You and Dream. What do you want?”

“Who’s to say we want anything?” Wilbur seems to grin wider, and the expression on his face is unsettling, makes something cold slither up his spine. He shakes his head to rid himself of the feeling, half-wishing it was brighter so he could better see the other’s eyes.

“I mean-” he stutters. Because Dream always wants, he almost says, bitter and angry, that all-too-familar swell of betrayal rising in his chest at Dream, forever insatiated, forever wanting, forever looking for more more more. Because if he were to escape, and if he were to want nothing, then what did that mean for the rest of them? Because if he didn’t want, if he wasn’t left wanting, then did Sapnap ever mean anything at all? The thoughts stick to his skull like tar, words clinging to the roof of his mouth as it goes dry. Wilbur seems to stare at him, unimpressed, and he feels his face go hot.

“He’s not- he’s dangerous, you know,” Sapnap says instead of answering, because untangling the awful, knotted feelings that make up his remaining ties with Dream, half-frayed and neglected and forgotten, is more work than he can handle and more emotions than he has the energy to bear. It doesn’t matter, in the end, because Dream is still dangerous; he knows that, resolutely, and maybe it’s lucky, that he found Wilbur without Dream whispering plans and manipulations and meaningless words by his side. It’ll give him a chance to warn Wilbur, bring him back to their side instead of risking his life (again) in the company of his friend-turned-tyrant. Dream is dangerous, whether he wants or not, because Dream is Dream and he’s been in too many manhunts to face him with anything less than one hundred percent confidence. “You don’t want to be with him, Wilbur. He’s hurt- so many people.”

Wilbur’s expression doesn’t change, seeming as indifferent to the words as ever; if anything, he looks a little amused. “Really,” he hums, almost to himself. “Dangerous, you say?”

“He’s Dream,” Sapnap insists, because it’s the truth, and it’s the simplicity of it, really. It’s Dream, and Dream is dangerous whether he’s on your side or not, forever ruthless and unheeding as long as he gets what he wants. He’d been in Wilbur’s place, once, convinced that Dream’s strategies and planning and infallible logic had meant they had no way of losing. He knows better, now. “You’ve fought him before! He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anything.”

And if the words are a little more bitter than they should be when he says that, who but he is going to notice?

Wilbur’s eyes stay on his, completely silent, expression unreadable. The quiet gets awkward quickly, Wilbur’s expression seeming unchanging, nothing but the faint rustling of the leaves around them to break the stillness of the air, and Sapnap feels his gut roll uncomfortably as he looks off to the ground, waiting for Wilbur to react in some way, any way. It’s hard, he knows, to realize that someone you thought was on your side had been using you the entire time, he’s been there before and he gets it, but- it’s still strange, how still Wilbur has become. How he still hasn’t reacted - is his expression going to change?

And suddenly, starting quiet and then swelling in volume, Wilbur begins to laugh.

“Goodness,” Wilbur drawls through his chuckles, voice low and dark and sending chills down his back. “I thought he was exaggerating, man - you really do hate him, don’t you?”

“What- what’s so funny?”

Wilbur smiles, teeth flashing white as the faint light from the moon bounces off of them, “I have to give you my thanks, truly. I’d thought that Quackity did the most of it, or Sam, but you- I really couldn’t have guessed.”

Sapnap’s head is spinning. Wilbur’s expression is positively gleeful, eyes dancing, smile wide and brilliant, bouncing from one name to another with little explanation to how any of them tie together. Sam? Quackity? Nothing is making sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh Sapnap,” Wilbur croons. “You really don’t know, do you?”

He twists his hand in a flippant gesture, eyes directed into the forest surrounding them.

“Let’s just say that his, ah- stay, in Pandora, wasn’t exactly what I’d call a five-star experience. But you know that, don’t you?” Wilbur directs a flat smile his way, and Sapnap swallows, throat dry. Briefly, images flash behind his eyes - walls, dripping with crying obsidian, the lava’s heat hard to bear at his back, even for him, mining fatigue pulling at his limbs and making them heavy. How startlingly bare the cell had been, even through the haze of his anger, Dream, slumped in a corner of the cell, barely moving, barely even breathing as it seemed sometimes, sunken-in cheeks and sagging shoulders speaking of nothing but a bone-deep exhaustion. “Apparently, being psychologically and physically tortured for months on end has an interesting effect on the human psyche. Even more so when, say, your best friend comes once in the entire time to tell you that he’ll kill you if you ever try to escape.”

“How-” he trips on his own words, lungs seizing, “how do you know that?”

“He tells me things. A lot of things, really. Did you know it takes one and a half regen potions to reattach an arm after it’s been cut off? It takes three and a half for a leg, he thinks, but the blood loss made it rather hard to remember.” Wilbur steps forward. “Did you know that scars created by healing potions tend to be much thicker and more prominent than those made by regens? Or that he can hold his breath for a little more than two minutes before passing out?” Wilbur smirks, jagged, threatening. “Did you know that I can tell him just about everything, and he’ll believe me because there’s no one else to tell him otherwise?”

“Wh- what?”

“I’ll be sure to tell him what you said; I’m sure he’ll love to hear how his brother is doing.” Wilbur waves. “And when you see Quackity, be sure to give him my thanks, will you?”

“Wilbur, what- come back-”

And with a flash of purple particles, Wilbur disappears, leaving Sapnap alone in the middle of the forest. Stasis chamber. His heart pounds in his ears, breathing all-too-loud, and he stares desperately at the empty space where Wilbur had stood like it’ll bring him back again.

Fuck, he swipes his hand across his face, startled when it comes back wet. What does he do now?

[souichioneshots]

Grim Reaper 【Souichi x Reader】 (Fluff)

Souichi claims he's been cursed. Now everything he touches dies! However, that doesn't stop him from spending time with you. Can you hold back from touching the boy and dying? Let's find out~~~!! ahahaha

(I think this counts as affectionate!reader but idk lol)

Souichi carefully held onto the drink in his hand as he sat back down in between your legs.

Resting his body against your soft chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist. He was completely engulfed by your love. Although he was a bit embarrassed at first by how affectionate you could be, it had become a habit for him to want to be so close to you all the time.

【And now back to ‘DEATH’S ASSISTANT’】

Souichi took a sip of his drink as the show you two had been hooked on recently started back up.

It was a Japanese drama about a Grim Reaper who had been assigned a foreign assistant. Apparently, they fell for one another as soon as their eyes met. Every day they tell each other how much they love one another, but because of Death’s curse, he is unable to touch his love. The show depicts their everyday work lives. Showing how far they would go for one another to prove their love, but never being able to be truly affectionate. Souichi wasn’t really into these types of lovey-dovey dramas, but the supernatural antics that it included drew him in deeper and deeper.

【Assistant, we cant! You know if we touch, you’ll die!】

【I would risk dying a million times just to feel your lips pressed against mine even just once, Death~.】

“Guuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!”

Souichi laughed as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. The scene was so cheesy and overdone, but you loved it. For a morbid girl, you really were a sucker for love stories.

“You’re gonna miss the show if you don’t look up.” Souichi chuckle and patted your head.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you continued to watch the last few minutes left of the drama.

“Death really outdid it with his outfit today, huh?” Souichi commented.

In today’s episode, Death had been wearing a bright red suit with a black suit-shirt instead of his usual black suit and black tie.

“I think it really suits him.”

“You think everything suits him.”

“Of course. If you’re handsome, then anything and everything looks good on you.”

Souichi lifted his shoulder up towards his head, squishing your face against him.

“Owwww Owowowow!!”

“What’s so handsome about that old actor?”

Souichi finally released the pressure, allowing you to relax.

Pulling your head away from his body, you rubbed your cheeks.

“Hmm…Well, for one his eyes are absolutely beautiful. Thin, sharp, and the dark circles around them make him look so mysterious. And his dark, wavy hair looks so soft! I just want to run my hands through it as mess it up even more.”

Souichi couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you described what you found attractive about the ‘dreamy man’ on the television. He honestly felt like you were just describing him. He knew you must have a type, but he didn’t think it would be this similar to him every time. You must have felt like you won the jackpot with him.

“But what I really like is the fact that he’s always wearing a suit.” Wrapping your arms back around his waist, you squeezed him a bit “You can tell his assistant also thinks the same thing because she's always staring at him. She just wants to touch him soooo much. But she knows she'll die if she does! Haa~~ I love it!”

Souichi hummed in amusement as he listened to you speak.

Seeing that he fit all the other conditions you looked for in a guy, Souichi thought of a perfect way he could use this little fantasy you love so much for his amusement.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

When the next night came, Souichi quickly got to preparing himself. He had asked if he could go over to watch a movie tonight.

He usually didn’t pay much attention to what he wore whenever he hung out alone with you. But tonight, he decided to mix things up a bit.

Making sure he had everything he needed in his pockets, Souichi set off to your house.

Creepily excited laughter slipped from the boy’s lips as he walked down the street by himself. He couldn’t wait to see your reaction when you laid your eyes upon him.

Finally reaching your front door, he knocked.

“Good evening~” Souichi greeted as you opened the door.

Before you could greet the boy back, you froze. Your mouth gaped open and your eyes widened as you looked upon your boyfriend.

“S…SS..S-Suit..Suitsuitsuit…” You brought your hands up to your face, unsure where to place them. This was the first time you had ever seen him wearing such an outfit before.

Finally bringing your hands out towards Souichi, you tried to touch him.

“Ah!” Souichi quickly jumped back. “You can’t.”

A look of worry and confusion grew on your face as the boy rejected your touch.

“Remember when I called you this morning and said I might have messed up a curse?”

You shook your head yes.

“Well, it turns out that as a side effect, whatever I touch now dies almost immediately.”

Leaning against the doorframe, you looked at the boy with a smile of disbelief.

“You’re just copying ‘Death’s Assistant’ aren’t you.”

Souichi hated how well you could read him. But that didn’t mean he was going to admit that you were right. At least not right now.

“No! I swear.” Sliding one hand into his suit pocket, he leaned down onto the grass that covered your front yard. “Every time I touch something as delicate as a flower…” Pulling out his hand from his pocket, he placed it over a daisy that had been growing for some time. “Well... This happens.” Moving back up, Souichi revealed that the flower he touched had shriveled up and died.

“No way…” You whispered as he allowed the dead flower to trickle onto the palm on your hands.

“Yeah…It’s a bummer.” Placing his foot over the real flower still planted in the ground, he tried to hide the evidence. “But I’m sure this curse will wear off by next week. 2 weeks at most.”

You quickly moved to the side as Souichi let himself into your home.

“What are you doing? Wouldn’t it be dangerous for us to be together right now?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. As long as we don’t touch that is.” Giving you a smile, Souichi kicked off his shoes and made his way down to your bedroom.

As the raven-haired boy walked down the hall, he moved his hands close to the wall, just barely coming into contact with the wallpaper. He honestly thought it would be really cool if he could make the wallpaper roll up and crumble into pieces just from touching it. Just like in the drama. Perhaps there really was a curse out there that would give him that ability.

Finally reaching your room, he took ahold of the door handle and gestured for you to go in first. Being in a suit really did make him feel like more of a gentleman. It was kind of fun.

Sitting on your bed, Souichi watched as you set up the DVD player.

He tried to hold back his foolish laughter as he thought about how miserable you were going to be all night from not being able to touch him.

You. The girl who could barely go 5 minutes without at least leaning against his shoulder, was now being forced to keep her hands to herself in order to avoid never waking up again.

This was gonna be hilarious.

“So, lemme ask you.” You pulled the boy out of his own little world as you sat on the bed with him. “Why the suit?”

“The suit? Oh. Umm…” Souichi’s mind froze for a second. He was going to say an excuse that all his other clothes suddenly turn to dust when he touched them, but now that sounded extremely stupid and unbelievable. Especially since he was able to touch your bedsheets with no problem. “…To match the whole ‘death’ theme...”

“Oh~ That makes sense. Always gotta be prepared for a funeral when everything you touch dies, right?”

“Exactly!”

Souichi let out a small sigh of relief as you commented an equally believable reason for the suit. He was glad you were almost always on the same level as him.

Finally dropping the subject, you pressed the button on the remote for the movie to play.

Souichi tapped his finger against the bed in annoyance as you kept a good amount of distance from him. It didn’t seem like you would try to touch him any time soon.

Looks like he needed to take things up a notch if he wanted to have some real fun.

Leaning forward, he swiftly took off his black jacket. You quickly ducked as his hand almost came in contact with your head.

Leaning his arm on your pillow, he relaxed his body. A single nail stayed poking out from between his lips, making it look like he was smoking.

Souichi couldn't help but smile as he saw you take quick glances at him. Your eyes kept moving from his pants to his white suit shirt, and finally to his face. He could see a blush spread across your cheeks as you quickly turned away from him, avoiding his gaze. You looked completely head over heels for him.

Sliding to the side, you leaned ever so close to the boy.

“Does the ‘being killed on the spot’ rule apply even over clothes~?” A blush spread across his pale face as you whispered in his ear, making sure not to come into direct contact with his shoulder. He could see your hand hovering over his suit pants, craving to touch the expensive-looking material.

Did you really not believe him or were you just begging to die?

Moving a bit away from you, he replied. “Probably not a good idea. Haven’t tested that out yet…” He let out a little laugh as he mentioned how awkward it would be for him to have to wake up your family and tell them that he killed you by accident.

Souichi looked from the corner of his eyes as you let out a small sigh and moved back into your own little space. This sudden rule of no touching looked like it was taking a toll on you.

Honestly, he was expecting you to be a bit more excited by this situation. After all, this was one of your favorite fantasies. To love one another, but never be able to touch unless you were willing to die on the spot. You should be spewing cheesy lines like in the drama, not sulking.

Moving the nails against his teeth, he tried to think of a way to fix things. After all, this wouldn’t be fun if you got too sad and decided to stop acting like your usual self halfway through the night.

Moving his arm out towards you, he pulled on the edge of his suit jacket.

“I think it’d be fine if you held onto this though…” He turned his face to the side, trying to hide his blush as you smiled once again.

Throughout the movie, Souichi kept his arm up in the air as you happily held onto his jacket. His body felt oddly unsatisfied from not being properly touched by you. But, this was his own fault for deciding to go through with such a cold prank.

You both stayed surprisingly calm and silent as the movie played on.

Souichi kept the nails in his mouth pressed tightly against his teeth as he kept his eyes on the screen. The movie you chose wasn’t half bad at all. The effects, the props, the acting. All very realistic. To be expected from new foreign movies.

However, this feeling of calmness didn’t last long as an unnecessarily long make-out scene between the main characters had started up again. Another specialty of foreign horror movies. The acting for these scenes just had to be extremely believable as well…

Souichi tensed up a bit as he felt you let go of his jacket, finally allowing him to rest his hand back down near his body.

It wasn’t that he disliked these types of scenes. But something about watching them alone with you always made him feel a bit restless.

Souichi moved his legs closer to his body, trying to get in a more comfortable position. He really regretted starting this whole ‘touch me and you’ll die’ prank now.

Pulling on the black-tie wrapped around his neck, he tried to calm himself down.

“People get really horny right before they die, huh?…”

Souichi noticed you jolt a bit at the sound of his voice. All he got in response from you was a little ‘yeah’ and an awkward laugh.

As the teens on the screen started to undress, Souichi noticed you also start to fidget around in your spot. You looked like you wanted to sit closer to him, but you knew you couldn’t.

Shakily bringing your hand over his leg again, you whispered. “Are you sure I’ll die if I touch you over your clothes?...”

This time he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just moved his leg closer to you, giving you an okay to try and touch him.

He watched as you cautiously placed the tips of your fingers on his knee. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized you were going to die from touching him over his clothes.

Careful not to accidentally touch any part of his body not covered by his clothes, you turned towards his.

Pinching the fabric of his suit jacket, you pulled his hand up. Souichi’s heartbeat sped up as you moved his bare hand to touch your clothed breast.

“Looks like it works both ways. As long as your skin doesn’t come into direct contact with mine, I’ll be just fine.”

Souichi’s eyes followed your hands as they moved back towards his pants once more.

You were really pushing the envelope.

But, if you were gonna play like that, then he saw no harm in playing along as well.

Sliding his hand down from your chest to your waist, he pulled you to come closer to him.

“That means we can’t do anything more than this though…” Souichi whisper as he inched his face closer to yours. “We should stop now before we do something that can’t be undone.” He teased you with lies, practically ordering you to go further.

“You don’t wanna die from one of my curses, do you?”

“It’d be a blessing to die from one of your curses…”

Something within Souichi switched on as he heard you whisper your confession to him. That felt like the most romantic thing you'd ever said to him.

Without saying another word, Souichi pressed his lips against yours. To think he was the one who ended up not being able to hold back from you this time.

Suddenly, pressing your hands against his shoulder, you pushed yourself away from the kiss.

“Agk! My heart!” Holding your hand against your chest, you threw yourself back to lay on the bed. “I…I!!! Gah…”

Souichi couldn’t help but laugh as you pretended to die in an over-exaggerated manner.

You opened one of your eyes, looked at the boy, and then closed it again. Souichi could see you trying your best to hold back a smile as you laid perfectly still.

“You knew I wasn’t cursed the entire time, didn’t you?”

“...Was it that obvious?” You laughed a bit as you finally sat back up.

“When did you figure out I was lying?”

“Hmm~”

You just hummed and swayed your head side to side. Not telling him when you knew for a fact he was not actually cursed.

“If I can be honest, you should have said something more believable for the suit. Then maybe I would have believed you completely." Leaning up against the boy you thought for a second. "Like umm... All your other clothes disintegrated the second you touched them. But because you've worn this suit to a funeral before, it was the only thing that stayed intact."

"Ahh!! I swear I was gonna say that!!"

You let out a hum and looked at the boy once again with a smile of disbelief.

"I swear!"

Getting up from the bed, he put on his suit jacket again.

"Let's restart." He sat back down on the edge of your bed. "Ask me why I'm wearing a suit."

"Okay." You also moved to sit on the edge, next to him. "Hey, Souichi. Why are you--" Unconsciously, your hand brushed up against his. "AGK!" You threw your body back and pretended to die again.

"No!! Y/N!!" He picked you up by your shoulders and forced you to sit back up. "Again."

As his hands moved away from your shoulders, he accidentally touched your neck. Making you jump back again.

"Agggkk!!"

"Stop dying!!" He yelled as you held your hand up to your neck and pretended to choke and die.

Souichi let out a loud groan as you continued to laugh at his frustrated expression.

This prank wasn't as funny as he thought it would be.

[darthzero22]

Free time

Crosshair x Neutral Reader 

The Havoc Marauder was in hyperspace, heading for the planet where your squad would do the mission. It was a bit of a long trip, so the others went to sleep, except for you and Crosshair.

You were in the back of the ship sitting in a chair reading your datapad, while Crosshair was standing in front of the table looking at his rifle and making some improvements to it. You would sometimes raise your eyes and look at him, but since he had his back to you he didn't notice you looking at him from time to time. What you had on your datapad was the mission report, but it was kind of boring, so sometimes you got distracted by moving a droid's head with your foot.

The ship had a reputation for being a mess on many occasions, mostly because of Wrecker. You had gotten used to it, in fact sometimes if you were really bored, you would clean up a little, but very occasionally. Although you wondered why there was a droid head on the ship, you thought maybe Tech used it for one of his analysis or projects, and now it was on the floor because it was useless.

You while you were thinking all that in your head, you inadvertently kick the droid's head causing it to shoot forward and slam against the wall in front of you, and thus to Crosshair's side. You hiss, noting that he looks to his side, seeing the droid's head on the floor, and then turns back to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You smile nervously and wave a little to him with your hand.

“You weren't trying to hit me in the leg with that, were you?” he asked.

“No, no! Of course not. It was an accident”

Crosshair rolls his eyes, moves the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and turns to focus on his rifle again. You scratch the back of your neck and wanted to focus on your datapad, but you couldn't. You observe that he moves his foot up to the droid's head, which was next to him very close, and he kicks it back to give it back to you, then hits you in the foot. He didn’t break his posture, at all times he was with his back straightened looking at his rifle, and his back to you.

“Ouch! Cross! Really?” the blow hadn't hurt, but you were surprised that he did that. “I told you I didn't do it on purpose”

Crosshair looks over his shoulder at you and gives a smirk.

“Well, I did”

“Bastard” you said to him with affection.

“If you said so” he looks again at his rifle. “Now pass me my weapon kit”

“Pass me my weapon kit” you imitate his voice. “Every day I think 'please' is not in your dictionary”

“Don't complain, will you?”

You get up from your chair, leaving the datapad there, and then grab the Crosshair weapon kit that was next to you. It was heavy, so you pick it up and leave it on the table he was using.

“Thanks”

“Well, at least you know that word. You’re welcome”

When he looks at you, you squeeze his cheek affectionately, which caused him to shake his head a little when you move your hand away, and now he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You smile amusedly at him and return to your chair, then after grabbing your datapad you sit in it.

“Will you keep reading that? You've been looking at it for about half an hour”

“And I will continue reading it. It's just that what it says here is very important”

“Really?”

“Really”

“I see. Well…” he turns around completely, rests his waist on the table with his arms crossed, and looks at you. “Then I want you to explain it to me, please”

He had said that word, so you knew he wanted to tease you, and you were speechless because you couldn't remember what the datapad said from memory. He was looking at you with a smirk, waiting for you to say something, and you nod your head.

“I'll explain to you, of course” you clear your throat.  “It's… about the mission”

“No kidding. And?”

“And it also says here that the separatist base... is located in a jungle on the planet, and...” you were slyly looking at the datapad.

“Hmm. You know what I think? I think you've spent the first ten minutes reading that thing, and twenty minutes looking at me”

“What? But...!”

“And you thought I hadn't noticed. That's very adorable of you”

“Well, you know that I do read the datapad with the mission information, but this time...”

“And other times”

“And other times... I got distracted, with you. You make fun of me, but do you know the mission information?”

Crosshair grabs the datapad he had on the table, turns it on and shows it to you.

“I am more aware of the mission than you are. And the mission is in a forest, not a jungle”

“… I was close” you turn off your datapad and leave it on the chair next to you.

“For some reason you sound adorable when you try to defend yourself with words” he puts the datapad back on the table.

“Oh, thanks... I guess” you get up from your chair. “Well, I'll go get something to eat”

“It is too early to eat, you know?  You shouldn't waste your rations so soon”

“I know, but any second now my stomach will start to rumble. Do you want to hear that?” you smile.

“No, no” he clears his throat. “That's a good idea. Go ahead”

While you went in search of something to eat, Crosshair was taking care of his rifle again, but stops when he sees you coming back. He raises an eyebrow when he sees that you did not return with the typical food rations the Republic gave them, but with two fruits in both hands.

“What's that?”

“That's… two fruits, Cross”

Crosshair squints and you smile, trying not to laugh.

“Ugh. I know that, genius. I mean, what do you do with those fruits and how did you get them?”

“Oh, that! On the planet we were on yesterday there was a city, remember? While Tech was preparing the ship, I went to the city and bought these two fruits”

“Did you go to the city? How come I didn't hear about it?”

“You were busy with your rifle. I didn't want to interrupt you because you tend to get very cranky when that happens”

“Very considerate of you” he said with sarcasm. “So you spent our credits on that”

“Yeah. The first thing I wanted to do was to eat something different for a change, Cross” you were smiling. “And I didn't buy two just for me, one is for you. Here”

You give him the second fruit you bought and when Crosshair grabs it, you start eating. He waits a few seconds and also begins to eat, being surprised, in a good way, by the taste of the fruit, that's why he opened his eyes wide for a moment.

“Not bad, huh?”

“I still believe you didn't have to spend those credits on this”

“So you like it” you smile.

Crosshair frowns and continues to eat his fruit, trying not to make eye contact with you. It made you happy to know that you picked a fruit that he liked. You were surprised that he finished his fruit before you did, which meant he was hungry and had actually liked it.

“I wasn't the only one who was hungry” you said. 

“Hmm. Yeah, maybe”

You could see traces of the fruit juice on his lips, so you approach him and run your thumb across his lower lip, wiping it and stroking it in the process. Crosshair was looking away, until he looks at your thumb and kisses it softly, and that's why you look at each other. You could see what he felt in his eyes, he could see the same in yours, so you brought your mouths close together to merge in a kiss. The taste of each other's mouth, plus the taste of the fruit juice, was a more than delicious combination, so you stay kissing longer than other times. He brings his hands to your waist to draw you closer to his body, and you bring your hands to his face to start caressing it.

When you slowly pull away from the kiss, since you saw him do it many times, you pull out of his belt pocket a toothpick and bring it to his mouth, then he grabs it with his teeth in a somewhat provocative way.

“Oh, really? You did it on purpose”

“Hmm” he moves the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and smiles attractively. “Don't play innocent. You like it when I do that, and you wanted me to do it”

You raise your head, because earlier you lowered it a little to hide the blush on your cheeks, and rest a hand on his chin to caress it with your thumb.

“Yeah… I won't deny it. It's just that I'm lucky to have you, and I hope this will last for a long time”

“Me too” 

There was a moment of silence, until Crosshair squints his eyes for a few seconds looking away, and raises an eyebrow when he looks at you.

“You're not going to propose to me now, are you?” he joked and crosses his arms. 

“Aww, you noticed. I had prepared everything. I was going to get down on one knee to propose and all that” you joked as well, with a smile. 

Crosshair laughs at the joke you had made, and so do you. Then you  stare at each other for a few moments, until you smirk again. 

“But one day I will do that, and in front of everyone" you said. 

“Oh, no. No, no. If you do that, I'm going to ignore you for the rest of your life"

“Just imagine it....”

“No!”

“In the middle of a mission, I get down on one knee to propose you marriage with Wrecker, Hunter and Tech watching us, especially Wrecker" you were still joking. 

Now you see Crosshair cover his eyes with one hand.

“Wait. Did you really imagine it, Cross?”

“Hmm” 

“You did!”

You laugh when you see that his cheeks had flushed a little with embarrassment. Crosshair lowers his hand to cover his mouth and looks at you with narrowed eyes. 

“Do you really think it's fun to embarrass me?“

"Ah, I imagined the situation and it was more adorable. I think your face would be more flushed than it is now, and now you are very flushed” 

“... How much?”

“Very flushed” your smile gets bigger.

Crosshair now turns his back to you so you won't keep looking at his face, as he was indeed very flushed, and goes back to the table to take care of his rifle. 

"Come on, Cross. You look cute like that"

“I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of seeing me like this”

You approach Crosshair from behind and rest your forehead on his back, wrapping your arms around his body in a hug. 

“I'm always able to make you blush again”

You rub your forehead against his back and you could feel his heart racing, which made your smile get a little bigger. Then you bring your head up and give him a kiss on the back of his neck, and now he sighs. He turns around so that he was now facing you and you kept smiling.

“Great... Now because of you I can't concentrate on improving my rifle"

“And because of you I couldn't read the mission report properly. We are even” you smile. 

You two stare into each other's eyes for a couple of seconds, until you wink at him and Crosshair smiles.

“I know, I know. I teased you a lot”

“Well, I admit you make my life more interesting with that, and a little more fun"

“That's enough for me”

You were about to walk away to finally leave him with his things, but Crosshair stops you by grabbing your hand.

“Hey, hey. Where are you going?” he asked. 

“I'm going to go check the ship's controls, you know, to see the status”

“Oh, no, no. After all those times you teased me, you're going to stay”

“Oh, very well. It seems fair to me” you smile.

He pulls you closer to him and puts his hand behind your head to kiss you. You reciprocate, and when you were closer to his body, he places his other hand on your waist, practically hugging you, then you rest your hands on his chest. 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part VI

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1567.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

________

You spent the rest of your evening like a somnambulist, barely able to concentrate on your projects before you went to bed, barely finishing half of the things you planned for today. Even the change of locks didn't make you as happy as you thought it would. It felt like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Lying in the dark, you stared at the ceiling, thinking of what happened just a couple of hours ago. Why did he do it? Was it just out of habit and didn’t mean anything? Naturally, with his appearance and easy-going attitude, he probably dated many girls and didn’t think much before kissing someone he liked.

Remembering the way he talked to you in the morning, you thought he must have pretended to be shy around you. Thor certainly wasn’t sheepish.

Was it all a sham? Was Loki right about all of them, playing their roles to get close to you? You couldn’t forget the way Thor looked the moment he told you about being smart. It was like something switched inside him, and for a second you saw the real Thor who was far from being your simple, good-natured athlete.

Why did you keep thinking about that stupid kiss even after seeing the man could be dangerous?

Aroused and angry, you tossed and turned until you fell asleep.

____________

Waking up was especially tough, despite the fact you didn't really do much yesterday, meaning you were going to spend your weekend studying. Shoot, and that's when you planned to visit that new chocolate boutique in the city. Maybe you could still make it if you spent more time studying today?

But then again, going to the city alone might be a bad idea. Even if the guys who stole your things were beaten, it didn't mean it had always been the same people following you. The school was full of weirdos, in the end. What if somebody went after you? Steve would definitely say you had to bring one of your guards with you.

Damn. It was better staying in the dorm then.

"Good morning! Are you ready?" Peter's voice broke through the silence, and you flinched, hurriedly applying some lipstick because you didn't have enough time to put your makeup properly.

Well, at least you were fully dressed.

"Just give me a second!" Picking up your bag, you put your shoes on and opened the door, looking at a young guy who's face was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hi!"

He definitely liked what he saw, and you felt your cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. From the very start of the semester Peter acted very sweet around you, and you thought you could be friends with him. He wouldn't do something as ugly as blackmailing, would he? Thor said it too. Clearly, Steve was exaggerating.

"Did you sleep well? I've heard you changed your lock, so now it'll be better."

"Ugh, I hope so. But I still sleep with my dresser blocking the door." Sighing, started walking, afraid to look in the faces of other students, hurrying off to school.

They must have been disgusted, watching you being friendly with one guy after being all lovey-dovey with the other just yesterday. Although you didn't see anyone in particular, you were sure somebody saw Thor kissing you. And now you were walking the corridors with Peter.

"By the way, what's your Insta?"

What? Your Instagram? Whatever for? Although you had no idea why he needed it, you let him add you, by the time leaving the dorm and walking towards the main building.

Suddenly, Peter got pretty close, his arm on your waist as he lifted up his phone and hummed, "Look here and smile!"

Before you realized what he was doing, the boy kissed your temple, and you heard the sound of a photo being taken by his front-facing camera. What the Hell?!

"Peter!" Pissed at him, you quickly break free and stepped back, but he was already looking at his phone, editing the photo and posting it almost immediately.

You heard your phone buzz when he marked you on the photo.

"That's a good one. You look very cute here."

"What are you doing?!"

"Making a proof we're dating, of course?"

You were taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, and Peter smiled from ear to ear like an excited teenager, showing you the picture: it wasn't that bad, and you looked as if you were slightly embarrassed by Peter's closeness. Oh, of course. He had to convince his friends he was dating you, but he didn't kiss you on the lips that could make other people too suspicious. Instead, friends of Barnes or, say, Thor, would still think it was all for show, and it was their friend who dated you for real.

Shit, Steve's plan was incredibly complicated, and you didn't like it at all.

"Oh, alright." You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the ground, and Peter laughed.

"We'll make a TikTok dance later. If you wanna make people talk, just use your social media." He winked at you and put the phone in the pocket of his pants, resuming walking, and you moved along, your face still hot.

God, what did these guys got you into? You felt like you were lost in the middle of a play, not even having a script to read what was your role in all this.

Before you parted your ways, going to a different classrooms, Peter talked about videogames, the upcoming Resident Evil - apparently, his favorite franchise - and some Dota tournament, but you didn't know much about it, and Peter offered to show you his favorite games "because you can't spend all your time studying!"

He was as careless and sweet as always, but you couldn't get Steve's words out of your mind. Damn, if only you could know for sure that Peter didn't blackmail anyone. Who could you talk to about it? Obviously, not Peter himself, but every time he spoke you had that nagging feeling you needed to talk to him. You barely kept your mouth shut before he went to a different room.

Ugh, why didn't you transfer anywhere else when you still had a chance? Obviously, now you could only drop out of school, and it definitely wasn't something you were going to do.

Luckily, the next couple of hours you were busy with your classes, trying your best to prepare for the upcoming exams. The academy held high standards, and even though you were a good student, it still took lots of efforts to keep up the good work. How Thor even managed to get enrolled, judging by the fact he hated studying and often skipped classes?

Ah yes, he mentioned something about getting a scholarship from the academy for his success in the sport.

By the lunch time you were drained, listening to Peter chatting with an absent-mindedly epxression on your face. Funny enough, Peter's grades were better than yours, even though he spent much less time studying. What, was he some genius like Loki? You felt a little envy.

"I gotta go take my tracksuit, I have PE next," the boy said, and you nodded, throwing away the leftovers of your lunch.

As you stood close while he grabbed his sportclothes, you heard two guys talking behind the lockers to your right.

"Have you seen her today? She's with Parker!"

You tensed immediately. Of course, they were talking about you.

"Yeah, so what?"

"She was with Thor yesterday!"

Watching you froze on the spot, Peter stilled too, listening carefully. Oh shit, you hoped no one cared about who you went with - why should they, in the end - but, apparently, you were drawing too much attention simply because you were a girl among hundreds of male students.

"So what?" The other guy asked impatiently, growing tired of this conversation.

"Are you stupid? She's going out with them! I bet she's looking for a guy." The first student said with excitement, and you cringed. No, you weren't going out with anyone, you wanted to stop the weirdos from following you and steeling your things. Was it too much to ask?

"Yeah, who cares?"

"We have three fucking girls in the whole school, and you don't care if one of them could be going out with you? Besides, this one's pretty. I'd fuck her!"

You felt like you were going to puke any moment. Why on Earth did you decide to transfer to an all-boys school? It was like the whole school were a men’s room filled with stupid-ass guys, and you were locked inside, forced to listen them talk junk.

"You'd fuck a sheep, weirdo. Go get yourself a girlfriend if you can’t stop thinking with your dick.”

Laughing, the guy left, and his friend followed him, shouting something stupid while you breathed out a sigh of relief. Of course, you knew there would be some talk, but you didn’t expect it to be so... gross. Were you really gonna spend the two remaining years here?

Watching you getting frustrated, Peter gently touched you by the arm and said softly, “Don’t worry. They won’t talk rubbish about you.”

“What do you mean?” Suddenly thinking of Steve’s words, you blurted out exactly what you were thinking of the whole day, “Are you going to blackmail them with something?”

“I... what?”

Part VII

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi

[mysterystarz]

the romance checklist:

summary: a chance meeting with kageyama has you striking up a bet to see if one of you could fall in love with the other before the year was up. cue the romance checklist, a piece of paper that molded your fate and his.

pairing: kageyama tobio x g!n reader

word count: 3.2k

genres + themes: literally pure fluff, reader is a first-year karasuno student, reader is also kind of a romantic

warnings: none

a/n: so this is my first time writing for kageyama and i know he's probably pretty out of character, so my apologies!! this was inspired off some headcannons i wrote for one of my irl friends, and this wiki-how article which i used to structure the actual checklist! to all my lovely kags simps, this is for you <3 (also to all the people who hate angst, you lucked out bc i was about to add an angst part but got lazy)

You had never thought a trip to the vending machine could be so eventful.

It had been lunch break, and you found yourself wandering towards the machine, money in hand as your eyes trailed the snacks. It had become routine to sneak away during lunch hours for this, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze as you bought your snacks. It had always given you time to think and the time to recompose yourself when you didn’t have a clue what to do.

Usually it also provided you with time alone.

That wasn’t the case today though. Standing in front of the vending machines was Kageyama Tobio, frantically pushing the button for milk with a grumpy sort of scowl on his face. From the distance you stood, you could make out his height and the way he tapped his foot continuously, as if he didn’t have the time to wait for the milk to be dispensed from the spot.

Strolling up to the spot, you stood silently next to him, watching the way he retrieved the milk from the slot wordlessly as he walked away, not even a glance in your direction.

You knew full well who he was. In fact, you could barely walk through the halls of school without hearing a murmur about the prodigy setter and his closed off ways. The girls found him intriguing from afar, and while they never dared to approach him, they all wanted to.

You hadn’t really understood what they saw in him. He was average...if not below that in academics, and he seemed to dedicate most of his time to volleyball, not caring much for other people. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and was almost always grumpy.

All of this should’ve been reason enough to avoid him, and yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something about him that was different. You just needed to find out what that was.

The next day came around, and sure enough, he stood at the machine again, toe-tapping as his milk was dispensed from the slot. This time his eyes scanned the courtyard as if he was seeking something before they finally landed on you.

You weren’t prepared for the full impact of his gaze. It was calculated and pointed, with some sort of intent that was expressed in every inch of those dark blue eyes. You weren’t put off by it.

In fact, it was charming in its own way.

“Are you looking for something Kageyama?” You asked as you walked towards him, pulling a few yen out of your pocket. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.” He deadpanned, his eyes still trained on you as you selected a snack from the machine’s buttons. “I see you everywhere. Who are you?”

You hadn’t expected that. You knew he was observant...when it came to volleyball specifically, but never realized how it translated anywhere else. “I’m Y/L/N Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what else to say to him. Gently grabbing your snack, you politely nodded at him before leaving him behind, the thoughts rapidly accumulating in your brain. Did he notice you the entire time? Why did he ask? Did he know something? Was he planning to use you as some example to the other girls who wanted to know him?

You wish you had an answer.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of any.

It had been two weeks since you had met Kageyama by the vending machines. It had now become routine to expect him there during your lunch breaks, milk box in hand as he regarded your very presence with something that felt a whole lot like curiosity. Every now and then he’d offer commentary on the mundane happenings of Karasuno, or ask about you, but you weren’t sure how you could hold a conversation with just these things.

“Kageyama.” You nodded, strolling towards the machine as you always did. He whipped around almost immediately, offering a solemn nod in return, clutching his milk box.

“Y/L/N.” He murmured, taking a sip of his box.

“Have you ever thought about love?” You found yourself asking, internally screaming at the word choice. Great, now he was going to think that you were some crazy person.

“I think so…?.” Was what he offered in response. His features seemed to soften at this question though as he scrunched his brows in thought. “What type of love?”

You raised a brow at him in question. “Kageyama...what type of love are you talking about?”

“Well...I love volleyball and milk.” He shrugged. “That counts.”

“That...wasn’t the type I was referring to.” You said, suppressing the laughter that bubbled into your chest. “I was talking about the other kind.”

“The other kind is stupid.” Kageyama replied instantaneously. “There’s nothing special to it.”

You felt confusion seep into your system before you quieted it, letting your mind wander. With Kageyama’s status, you assumed that he’d at least thought of the concept at least once, although it seemed that he’d never even pondered the idea altogether!

“You’d have to feel it to come to that conclusion,” you countered, “Have you?”

“No,” he scoffed, “It’s still stupid.”

“Why?” You asked, feeling the curiosity surface. “Any specific reason?”

“Why would anyone want to dedicate all their time to another person?” Kageyama asked straight back, his gaze unwavering. “I just don’t see the point.”

You stared back at him, feeling the challenge bubble in your veins. “I bet...I can make you fall in love with someone by the end of the school year.”

At that moment, the boy in front of you looked thoroughly surprised, throwing his empty milk box at the garbage can nearby. He seemed speechless to some extent, as if he wasn’t able to process the words that had just left your mouth.

“And what happens if you can’t?” He asked, hesitantly bringing his gaze to your face. “What then?”

“I’ll buy you milk for a whole month.” You placed your hands on your hip as you kept your glare firm. “I stick to that.”

“Okay then,” he sighed, “Game on.”

With a shake of your hands, you cemented your fate.

You would win that bet. That much was certain.

“What’s this Y/L/N?” Kageyama asked, pointing at the piece of paper you held at him. “How are you going to win a bet with this?”

The two of them stood in the courtyard of Karasuno, the fresh autumn breeze rippling the paper you held in your hand. It had been a good day so far, and Kageyama had surprisingly stuck to his resolve, meeting you at the vending machine when he could’ve easily avoided you.

It was always more fun to challenge a competent opponent.

“This is the romance checklist.” You grinned proudly. “This has all the things we need to get you to fall in love.”

“How is it fair if you don’t do the checklist’s things too?”

“Well, that’s why I’m doing them with you.” You responded, already anticipating these types of questions. “I drafted the checklist off of the things I’ve observed over the years that should totally lead to feelings of love!”

“Whatever.” Kageyama said, his blue eyes scanning the paper’s contents. “How do you plan to do this?”

“We follow the steps.” You nodded. “Since I’m doing this with you, it’ll be foolproof.”

“Y/L/N...what if we competed against each other?” He mumbled. “We follow the checklist and use it against each other. Whoever falls in love first loses.”

“Do you really want to risk that?” You smirked, “That’s a bold move you’re making.”

Kageyama stood up straighter at this, the challenge burning deep in his eyes. “I’m going to win, so it won’t be an issue.”

“Suit yourself,” you grinned. “I’ll be winning this anyways.”

He simply smirked as he looked down at the paper, the promise of a challenge fresh and bright between them.

STEP ONE: MEET SOMEONE

After a long time, you had finally gotten some free time away from schoolwork and the obligations that pinned you down. It was a rare occurrence with the amount of pressure that the college prep class placed on you, and you intended to make the most of it.

You found yourself on the pathway of a cafe you used to frequent in the summer with your friends. It had always been a place to collect your thoughts and let your worries float away with every sip of one of the immaculately crafted beverages that they offered there. You felt your lips twitch in an involuntary smile at the memories.

“Y/L/N?” You heard a voice call out, a shocking contrast to the normal chattering you heard within the shop. Looking up, you were met with Kageyama’s eyes, narrowed and confused as you sat at the table frozen. “What are you here for?”

“It's a break for me,” you shrugged, “I come here all the time. I haven’t seen you here before.”

“They have good drinks,” Kageyama replied bluntly. A few beats of silence passed between them, with neither of them knowing what to add to the conversation.

“You can sit down with me.” You offered, gesturing to the empty seat across from you. “The more the merrier.”

He didn’t question this as he slid into the seat, fingers drumming on the table as he looked at the window. From your point of view, it was almost picturesque the way he managed to appear. His blue eyes were focused on the trees outside, and his posture was ever so casual and relaxed as he sat there, as if he had no other care in the world.

It was unfair how model-like he managed to appear, even despite the fact he wasn’t trying.

Ah. Perhaps this is what the girls at school noticed.

Once the drinks arrived at your table, the two of them drank in comfortable silence, admiring the flavors on their tongues as their surroundings continued on as normal. You didn’t feel the need to contribute anything to the silence, finding it calming in its own right.

“So Kageyama, are you feeling anything yet?” You teased, setting down your half-empty cup.

“No.” He admitted, setting down his drink as well. “I am supposed to?”

“Well technically no, but it’d be good if you did.” You chuckled, finding amusement in the cluelessness of his ways. “Step one of the romance checklist: meet somebody.”

“We already met though.” He countered, “How does this count as anything?”

“Well, we just encountered each other out of nowhere.” You smiled, “That counts as a meeting in my book.”

He wrapped his mind around this information, nodding solemnly. “I guess so then. I still don’t feel anything.”

“Neither do I.” You said, willing the slight butterflies in your stomach to subside. It was really nothing. This was simply a chance meeting, nothing more than luck and fate that had you encounter each other today of all days.

You shouldn’t have been affected this quickly. You felt far too warm, far too...fuzzy, for a meeting of chance. It was simply far too intimate.

Well, it seemed that Kageyama had gotten the one upon you at this stage.

You’d beat him next time. You knew you would.

STEP TWO: FLIRT

“You look good today Kags,” you smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction creep up in your veins at his flushed cheeks,

Over the course of the weeks spent together, you had been able to learn more about the mysterious boy in front of you and had even formed a friendship of sorts. For starters, he was flustered very easily, which is why you decided to make your move so early in the morning.

“I look like how I do every day, dumbass!” He growled, the red deepening in his cheeks when you merely winked in response.

Ah yes. He tended to insult those he befriended. That was yet another endearing thing about the boy in front of you.

“No, something is different today,” you commented, “Did you do something with your hair?”

“No,” he frowned, the flush never subsiding from his cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m just saying genuine things you know.” You laughed, punching his shoulder casually. “Besides, I think I’m succeeding so far.”

“Succeeding? This is that stupid checklist again, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Step two: flirting. What is the point of this again?”

“It’s to show interest.” You remarked. “Besides, if you want me to fall for you, you’re going to at least have to act like you’re interested in me. I know it’s working on you so far.”

“No it’s not!” He yelled, although the defense was half-hearted. You knew he was merely putting up a front. You could tell it from his body posture alone.

You had the upper hand right now.

You waved him goodbye as you entered the Karasuno grounds, climbing the stairs to reach your class as he walked in the opposite direction. Even if you had the upper hand right now, you knew that you had to be on-guard the rest of the day.

If there was one thing you knew very well in the time you had spent with Kageyama, it was that he was extremely competitive. There was no way he’d ever go down without a fierce fight, especially when a month’s worth of milk was on the line.

You had been absolutely right to doubt him.

When lunchtime rolled around, he stood at the vending machine like he always did, leaning against it casually as he waited for you, his focus placed on the entrance.

The first thing you noticed was how calm he was. There was none of his usual frantic energy or the practiced insults that you threw back at one another. He simply stood there, content, as he watched you make your entrance.

The second thing you noticed was how an unconscious smile crept onto his face when you waved at him and slipped away the minute your eyes darted to his mouth. He sipped his milk casually, although you knew that internally, he was definitely scheming.

He could be a gremlin if left untapped.

You were about to purchase your snack in silence, thinking about all the ways he could win against you when you felt his hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw him holding out a container of your favorite snack, handing it to you wordlessly.

What?

“I thought I would get it today,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his milk. “You’ve bought me milk sometimes. It’s only fair.”

He didn’t consider it much of a big deal, but you felt your heart begin to accelerate in its pace at the thoughts that came flying into your head.

He had paid attention to your favorite snack? He had actually cared about when you bought him milk?

He noticed all of this?

“You...have a nice smile.” He mumbled, a flush rising onto his cheeks once again. You felt yourself fluster a bit at the compliment, not used to hearing it that often.

“Uhhh thanks.” You exhaled, not knowing how to respond to such an out-of-the-blue remark. “Your smile looks a lot like the Cheshire cat you know.”

For a moment his face was contorted into an expression of horror before he laughed a bit, the low chuckles sending heat straight to your cheeks.

Damn it. His laugh was adorable.

It was a low chiming sound, but it still managed to uplift your spirits in the brief time that you heard it. It was absolutely perfect.

You’d like to hear it again if you could.

A small smile was on his face as he looked to the ground, thinking about something while you took the time to really look at him. Behind the stone exterior, was someone talented, clueless, and amusing in every way you could possibly imagine.

You noticed how his posture mirrored yours, and the way how he smiled when your eyes finally met his own.

Damn it! He got the one-up on you. Again.

STEP THREE: GO ON THRILLING DATES

“Tobio! Let’s go on this one!” You yelled as you dragged him towards the large rollercoaster that caught your eye.

It was a beautiful Saturday with the most perfect weather. Sunny skies met a fresh breeze as you dragged Kageyama around the amusement park you had insisted on going to together. He kept with your quick pace as you went from ride to ride, never once letting go of his hand.

If anything, you were more confused why he didn’t comment on the fact that you had been holding hands that long. Rather he silently followed you from ride to ride, occasionally commenting on how small it looked for them.

From where you stood, the rollercoaster looked positively incredible with the multiple loops and drops in its track. This certainly fit the bill for thrilling. Maybe Kageyama could finally agree to ride this one.

“Y/N, do we really have to do this one?” He asked, his gaze not tearing away from the ride. “Doesn’t it look a bit too small for us?”

“Well if it’s too small, then we can still ride it as a joyride, don’t you think?” You grinned as you shoved him into the line of the coaster. Soon enough, it was your turn as you were ushered into the seats while the employees strapped you and Kageyama into the rollercoaster.

The wait was excruciating, with every second that passed sending a wave of anticipation and adrenaline through your system. Looking to your side, you saw Kageyama’s face, which was composed, even though his fingers drummed rapidly on the bar.

Was he nervous?

Hesitantly, you reached to clasp your hands together, relishing in the feeling of your palm on his as the rollercoaster suddenly began moving, bringing you up the tall lift hill.

“Tobio, are you okay?” You questioned as you neared the top, the grip he had on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

“I’m fine!” He yelled, just as the roller coaster fell over the lift hill, sending them into a plummeting drop.

You felt the exhilarating feeling of soaring as the ride propelled you forward, shouts of glee leaving your mouth ever so often. On the other hand, all you heard from Kageyama was the occasional shout of horror when they encountered yet another drop on the track, the grip he had on your hand deathly tight.

“Tobio! You’re afraid of rollercoasters?!” You shouted as you were guided into a loop.

“No I’m not!” He shouted back, shutting his eyes when he was finally upright again. “They just make me feel like I’m about to die!” When he opened his eyes, they first found yours in a look that was both petrified and fond. “I think I lost the bet!”

“You did what?!” You yelled as the wind rippled in your ears again.

“The bet Y/N! I think I’m in love with you!” He yelled. “I thought I should tell you before we die!”

You felt your heart soar at the words that had just been exchanged, a testament to the budding feelings you had felt for months around him.

“We’re not going to die.” You sighed as the ride finally slowed, feeling exhilarated as you smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Stepping off the rollercoaster, Kageyama was more silent than anything, red flush adorning his cheeks as you massaged soothing circles onto his hand. “We both lost it in the end.” You laughed.

“I think it was worth it,” he chuckled, the beautiful chime, showing you that he meant every word.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

taglist (bold cannot be tagged): @moi-bunni @kousukii @littlecatfairy @iwasunshine @kawaii-angelanne @haikyuutothetop @dearkousei @catchmewiddershins @perqabeth @sunarinluvr @elektrosonix @milktyama

reblogs are very appreciated <3

[triptuckers]

Sunshine - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: yea! “Can you make a Nikolai Lantsov x Reader where the reader has been with the Crows for a year, so when she sees him again, he recognizes her immediately and vice versa.” Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  Someone looks very familiar, and you can’t wrap your head around it Warnings: crooked kingdom spoilers!! Word count:  1.6K A/N: hi! there’s (slight) crooked kingdom spoilers in this one, so don’t read it if you don’t want any spoilers for the book! thanks for requesting this, enjoy reading!

‘The Ravkan king is sending a pirate to go to the auction.’ says Kaz, making you look up in confusion as you’re walking through the halls of the fancy hotel. You are on your way to meet with the Ravkans, but you didn’t know the king would send a pirate to go to the auction. 

‘He’s sending a pirate?’ you question. ‘To represent his country?’ ‘He prefers the term ‘privateer’.’ says Kaz, slightly clenching his jaw. ‘Probably because it helps him sleep better at night.’ chuckles Jesper beside you. 

You roll your eyes, but chuckle as well. ‘Would it make you feel better if I called you a distance expert, instead of a good shot?’ you say.

‘Oh no, I’m good with flattering, you don’t have to use fancy words for that.’ says Jesper, making you laugh again. 

‘Keep it professional, you two.’ says Kaz as you’re approaching the double doors at the end of the hallway.

‘Why?’ you say. ‘You’re intimidating enough for the three of us. Jesper and I can just be your bright side, you know, bring a little sunshine.’

‘We don’t need sunshine.’ says Kaz. ‘We need to bring Van Eck and Rollins down.’

You sigh as you follow Kaz through the doors. ‘Never a bright side with you, is there?’ you say. 

Once you enter the room, you immediately look at the three people waiting for you. As you walk up to them, you take all of them in. 

On the left is a stunningly gorgeous girl. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of her. She has her arms crossed and looks very sternly at Kaz, Jesper and you as you approach them. You can tell she’d much rather be in Ravka if it was up to her. You weren’t familiar with most grisha’s, but you’re sure Nina would know her. 

On the right is a grisha you do recognise. But only because of the eye patch and scars. Genya Safin. Despite her scars, you can see her beauty. She looks a lot nicer than the other girl. 

Between them in the middle is a boy, not much older than you are, who you assume must be the pirate. Despite being flanked by two powerful Grisha, he’s the one that catches your attention. 

He doesn’t look like a pirate. At least, not like the one’s you’ve met. He’s holding his chin up high and standing up straight, not exactly like a criminal would. He smiles as you approach him and there’s something familiar about him you can’t place.

‘We’re glad you’re here.’ says Kaz, as the three of you stop in front of them.

‘We’re here on business.’ says the grisha on the left. ‘Zoya.’ says the pirate. ‘Be nice.’ But she only scoffs and rolls her eyes at him. Clearly, she didn’t want to be in a city like Ketterdam. 

‘Well, this is Zoya.’ says the pirate, motioning to the girl. ‘And this is Genya.’ he says, gesturing to the other girl. ‘And I’m Sturmhond.’ 

‘I’ve heard that name before.’ says Jesper. ‘Only the good things, I hope.’ says Sturmhond.

‘This is Jesper.’ says Kaz. ‘That’s Y/N.’ 

Jesper nods at the Ravkans, but you narrow your eyes at Sturmhond. Sturmhond looks at you, waiting for you to say something, but you merely continue to look at him, slightly narrowing your eyes.

‘Why is she looking at me like that?’ he asks. 

You don’t say anything, but notice Jesper moving closer to you.

‘Scheming face.��� he says, studying your features. ‘Her brain’s running at top speed right now. Best not to ask anything ‘til she speaks up herself.’

Kaz and Sturmhond start talking business, and you take Sturmhond in once more. There’s something so familiar about him, and you’re going through all the memories you made in Ravka, trying to determine where you could have met him before. 

Some time later, Sturmhond turns to you again.

‘I know I’m nice to look at, but you’re over selling it a bit, sunshine.’ he says.

Sunshine.

Suddenly, memories of a summer night flood back to you. It was before you came to Ketterdam, when you were in Ravka. You did all sorts of jobs, because you had certain skills not a lot of Ravkans had. On one night, you had a run in with a few soldiers. 

You thought you were done for, but they’d won an important battle that had lasted days, and weren’t in the mood for more fighting. They shared their food and kvas with you, and told you stories. You didn’t want to tell them your name, so one of the soldiers had decided to call you sunshine instead.

He had told you his name was Nikolai, and when you asked him about his family name and he said it was Lantsov, you didn’t believe him. What were the odds you ran into one of the Ravkan princes in the middle of nowhere? 

Maybe he had spoken the truth after all. 

You smile at Sturmhond and finally speak up. ‘You don’t look like a pirate.’ you say. ‘Privateer.’ he corrects you. ‘Pirate, privateer, all the same. You don’t look like one. You don’t talk like one either. Or act or stand like one.’ you say.  ‘Then what do I look like?’ he asks you. 

A smile tugs on your lips as you look at him. ‘A royal.’ you say. ‘Why would the Ravkan king send a pirate to such an important auction? If I was king, I’d want to know what was going on. I’d go myself. And have one of the best Tailors in the country help me with my disguise. Turn myself into a pirate named Sturmhond.’ 

‘That’s an interesting theory.’ he says. ‘Are you implying I’m king Nikolai? It’s a good one, but not the right one, I'm afraid.’

You nod at him but aren’t convinced. Next to you, Kaz pulls his watch out of his pocket, and tells you you need to go. The six of you walk toward the door, you and Sturmhond trailing at the end of the group. Just as you’re about to walk through the doors, he stops you and closes them, leaving the two of you alone. 

‘You’re smart.’ he says and you smile at him. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’ ‘So I’m right?’ you say, very pleased with yourself. ‘Maybe.’ he says. ‘Maybe?’ you say, laughing softly. ‘It’s good to see you, Nikolai.’

‘It’s good to see you too.’ he says. ‘You know, when we met and you told me your family name was Lantsov, I didn’t believe you.’ you say. ‘I wouldn't have believed me either.’ he says. ‘Some soldier claiming they’re a Lantsov? I’d think it was a bad move to try and impress a pretty girl.’

‘Ah.’ you say. ‘So you think I'm pretty now?’ ‘I thought you looked absolutely gorgeous when I first met you. Even in that ridiculous coat that you wore to hide your revolvers.’ says Nikolai.

‘Why come to Ketterdam as Sturmhond?’ you ask. ‘I’ve always been Sturmhond.’ he says. ‘Everything you’ve heard about him, that’s me. I sailed the seas when my parents thought I was at a university.’

You’re silent as you look at him. Genya had done a good job tailoring him. If you hadn’t spend an entire night talking to him, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was actually the Ravkan king, and not some pirate. But you had studied his face that night, and it had been imprinted in your memory ever since.

‘What’s on your mind?’ asks Nikolai.

‘Genya did a good job.’ you say, moving closer to him and taking in the details of his face. ‘I like your own eye color and nose better though.’ you say, making him smile.

‘Do you like it here?’ he asks. ‘In Ketterdam?’ you say and he nods. ‘I do.’ you say. ‘It’s messy, and you need to have some kind of weapon on you every time you’re out on the streets, but believe it or not, it feels like home. I can be myself and use my skills without a civil war or soldiers bothering me.’

‘Don’t they have Stadwatch here?’ questions Nikolai, and you laugh. ‘They’re here, yes. But they don’t do much. All it takes is a little kruge and they look the other way. Plus, in the Barrel the gangs have territories, the Stadwatch doesn’t decide how we handle things down here.’ you say.

‘If you ever get tired of this life, Os Alta is very nice.’ he says.  ‘Is the king of Ravka asking me to come to the palace with him?’ you ask teasingly. ‘No.’ he says. ‘Nikolai is asking if you want to come to the palace with him.’

You smile at him. ‘I have to admit, it does sound nice. But I’ve found my place here with the Dregs. Kaz, Jesper, they may not look like much to you, but I trust them with my life, they’re my family.’ you say. 

Nikolai nods, taking a step back and away from you. ‘I understand.’ he says. ‘Forget I asked anything.’

‘I wasn’t finished yet.’ you say. You step closer to him and look up at him. ‘Ketterdam is now my home, but I wouldn’t say no to the occasional visit to Os Alta.’

Nikolai’s face lights up upon hearing your words and he starts grinning like an idiot. ‘I’ll make sure there’s a bottle of kvas waiting for you on your first visit. Along with a gorgeous hazel-eyed, blonde king.’ he says. 

You raise a hand and run it through his hair, which Genya had tailored to be a shade of red instead of the golden blonde you remember. ‘I prefer you as a blonde.’ you murmur softly. 

‘Next time you’ll see me, I’ll be blonde.’ he says.  ‘Next time I see you?’ you say. ‘Promise.’ says Nikolai.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: VIII

Like wolves we've run wild

Let passion get too much

And let ourselves get burned by the fire

We're walking on wire

But nothing feels higher

Then when I see that look in your eyes

Small Talk, Niall Horan

A/N: here she is!! another part!! you’re probably used to this now, but part 8 got a little long, and will continue in a part 9 but honestly!! who cares!! it just means more vampirerry for all of us 😌 here we deep dive into a few more dates with a dash of some good ole jealousy!! love to see it love to hear it!! and andrea and i would just like to say THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED IN THE 1D CRAFT AWARDS!!!! we cannot believe ysijwa was even nominated, let alone that it won most unique!!! as a thank you, we’re doing a livestream this sunday!! you can send in questions, we’ll discuss the story, and just have a lil chat so please tune in!! details can be found here!! and please if you like what you are reading here!! reblog it!! leave reactions in the tags (we read every single one)!! send a message to andrea and i!! feedback and interaction is what keeps content creators motivated to keep writing and updating!! and that’s a general rule for all content creators not just us!! we do this for free so a lil love note is always appreciated 💌 alrighty now that that’s out of the way!! let’s dive in!!

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

word count: 30k

content/warnings: confessions of an immortal shopaholic, blair waldorf dark au, the glamorization of the sugar baby lifestyle, harry not understanding the concept of sharing, y/n “eat the rich” y/l/n, harry the walking rosetta stone (tw: google translate), an italian chef (and psychic) who will also adopt someone before dessert is served, A Cinderella Story 6: Fifty Shades of Gucci Grey (rated R), an internal monologue of john mulaney’s “now we don’t have time to unpack all THAT!!!”, and a definitive guide on how to get rid of unnecessary parts of an outfit

Harry is aware that he has a taste for excess. 

He wasn’t always like this, truly.  When he was human, everything about his life had been thoroughly middle class.  He was apprenticed to his father, the town’s blacksmith, and spent the majority of his life living in modesty.  He wore plain clothes that had been sewn by his mother with the cheapest and most durable material she could find.  He spent most of his days at the forge, or dutifully completing chores at home.  He prayed quietly in church, took only the bare minimum of what he needed from anything, and, for the most part, kept his head down.  He’d lived his life with no fancies, no frills, and no fun, in the hopes that all his humble modesty would serve him well in his next life. 

And then he ended up eternally damned, so a fat lot of good that suffering had done him.  All he got from following such a plain mode of life was intimacy issues, a newfound bloodlust, and a broken neck. Therefore, when it came to his afterlife, Harry decided to try a different route. 

And that route, lucky for him, always seems to lead him back to Gucci. 

Harry’s tried a lot of styles and a lot of designers in his two hundred and some years of life, but he’s yet to find anything that speaks to him like Gucci does.  Whether it’s a leather wallet, a blue velvet suit, a sheer pussy bow shirt, or a silk neck scarf; if it has the Gucci label stamped on it, Harry probably owns it. 

Whenever he steps foot in the store, sales associates flock to him, knowing that he’ll drop at least five thousand in one visit.  Harry knows he should feel a tad guilty, but frankly, he thinks he’s earned it— more so than those billionaires he compels into making monthly donations to the “charity funds,” also known as his bank account. 

His methods, however, do bring him a bit of flack from his friends.  While Mitch normally does everything with Harry, the laid back and neutrally good-aligned vampire can only spend so much time in a high-end boutique before claiming that he’s “choking on the cologne of the entitled.” Niall, on the other hand, doesn’t let his teasing nature stop him from joining Harry, but Niall’s affinity for polyester usually stops Harry from allowing him inside the store.  And Xander is a non-starter— the last time Harry tried to bring him, the vampire had spent the entire time cracking scathing jokes about Harry being a sugar baby, to which Harry responded with a comment about Xander being jealous of the salesman fitting Harry.  That little argument turned into a three day battle of neither speaking to the other, and had only been settled when they each agreed that the other deserved to lose an eyebrow for what was said.  

Harry could recount more instances of friction caused by his shopping habits, but needless to say, he either frequents the shopping district of Los Angeles by himself, or with Adam, who is wonderfully indifferent to Harry’s methods of obtaining pocket change, as well as how he spends said pocket change, and possesses the bonus trait of having an eye for beautifully tailored trousers. 

It’s Adam who is by Harry’s side as he walks into the Gucci store for the third time in two weeks, his disinterested expression nearly eclipsed by the confident smirk that adorns Harry’s ruby lips. 

It’s almost like they have a censor for him, Harry thinks smugly, as the associates begin to whisper to each other at the sight of him.  Even if he didn’t absolutely love the brand, Harry would come to Gucci just for the boost to his ego. 

Despite having accompanied Harry before, Adam still leans over to his friend, raising a quizzical brow as his eyes scan over the racks of clothing they pass. “Do we have to go to the counter, or—?”

“Oh, I never have to go to the counter.” Harry chuckles lightly, brushing his icy fingers over a smooth silk shirt styled on a mannequin. “They—”

“Mr. Styles!”

The egotistical simper on Harry’s lips grows, and he shoots Adam a smug look before turning around. “They come to me.”

“Mr. Styles, it’s so nice to see you again.” Mr. Koffman, the manager of this particular location, stops in front of Harry after a brisk walk over, fixing the fit of his suit jacket before extending his hand to Harry and Adam. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” Harry shakes his hand once, enjoying the usual look of bemusement that flashes through the human man’s eyes at his strong grip and cool skin. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’m just fine.” He replies, shaking Adam’s hand once without moving his attention from Harry. “We’re thrilled to have you back so soon.  I understand we have a suit in the works for you?”

Adam rolls his eyes the moment Mr. Koffman turns away from him, turning his attention to the rack of jackets to the left and running his fingers over the material. 

“Yeah, I got the call this morning to come pick it up.” Harry pauses, giving Adam a sideways glance as his grin grows. “But I was wondering if I could do one last fitting, just to make sure everything’s set…?”

“Oh, uh—” Harry enjoys the frayed tone that echoes from the manager’s mouth as he begins to scramble, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I’m so sorry, but we have another appointment coming in fifteen minutes, and—”

Harry sighs in mock disappointment, clicking his tongue as he gives a slight nod. “Ah.  I see.” He sighs again and lifts his shoulders in a small shrug, glancing at Adam from the corner of his eye.  The other vampire is watching him with a half-amused, half-exasperated expression, and it takes all of Harry’s willpower to bite back a laugh. 

The light sheen of nervous sweat on Mr. Koffman’s brow begins to drip down his temple. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Styles—”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Harry waves off the apology with an unconcerned air, glancing at his own statement watch and sighing again. “If you could just have my suit sent down to the Gucci location on Rodeo, I’d really appreciate it— I know they’ll be able to squeeze me in for a last minute fitting.” Harry smiles at Koffman, whose face fades a shade paler as the creature gestures to his friend. “C’mon, Adam.”

“No, no, there won’t be any need for that!” Mr. Koffman says quickly, checking his watch again as his hand reaches for the handkerchief in his suit pocket.  He dabs at his moist forehead while forcing a smile at Harry, who gives an easygoing smile back. 

“It’s alright, Mr. Koffman, really— if you’re unable to make some room for me, I’m sure they’ll be happy to—”

“You’ve been a wonderful and loyal customer to us, Mr. Styles— we’d be more than happy to make room for you.” The human smiles again, the action more strained than before as he tucks his handkerchief away and clasps his hands in front of him. “Just— Just give me one moment to arrange it with alterations, and move some things around.  Please, feel free to browse,” He gestures to the racks of clothing around them. “And I’ll be back in a few minutes once we have everything ready for you.”

Harry hums in the back of his throat, faking hesitation as he replies in a slow voice. “Well...if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble…”

“No trouble at all.  Not for you.” Koffman, to his credit, manages to make the response sound natural before scurrying away, already dialing a number on his phone as he speed-climbs the staircase leading to the alterations department. 

The laugh Harry’s been choking on for the last three minutes escapes the moment the human disappears, echoing off the marble walls around them as Harry turns to Adam with a glint in his eye. 

Adam, on the other hand, looks less entertained and more annoyed. “Was that really necessary?” He asks in a bored tone, crossing his arms as his eyebrows raise in question. “Why do you need to try the suit on?  You had, like, three fittings.  It’ll be fine.”

“I know, but I want to make sure it’s perfect before I take it home— I’m spending way too much money for it to possibly be defective.  And I want you to see it in all the glory of the mirrored Gucci fitting room.” Harry pats his friend’s shoulder as he steps past him, his attention captured by a pair of red leather and snakeskin boots sitting on a pedestal in the corner. 

Adam snorts once, short and harsh. “Were those the only reasons, Mr. Styles?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Harry drags a finger over the embroidered side of the boots, his cherry lips rising at the corners. “I do enjoy making Koffman squirm.  He’s so easily bothered by the littlest of things; it’s like an open invitation to cause some trouble.”

“Y’know, if I didn’t know what you really were,” Adam laughs once in spite of himself, shaking his head in disbelief while checking out a pair of plaid trousers. “I’d think you were the devil.” 

Harry’s smile twists into something more sinister as he fiddles with his gold cross, twisting the pendant under the overhead lighting so it glints symbolically in Adam’s eye. “It’s a good thing I’m not, hm?  I’d be unstoppable.”

“We’d all be doomed, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, absolutely. But world-domination aside, everyone knows the devil wears Prada, not Gucci. Get it together, Prendergast.” 

The clicking of dress shoes against the marble steps alert Harry to Koffman’s return before his sputtering heartbeat does, and the vampire turns his head just in time to see him descend down the spiral staircase. 

“Good news, Mr. Styles!” He beams at Harry as he steps off the last platform, nearly tripping over his feet in his effort to get to his client. “I was able to talk to the girls, rearrange some appointments, and we’ll be able to do a final fitting for you.”

“That’s wonderful t’hear, Mr. Koffman.” Harry tucks his cross back beneath his shirt with a pleased grin, catching Adam’s eye over the mortal’s shoulder. “I wasn’t fancying the drive to Rodeo.”

“I wouldn’t either, sir.” Koffman nods solemnly, gesturing to the stairs with a stubby hand. “But we’re always glad to make accommodations for you here.”

And isn’t that the truth, Harry thinks as he makes his way upstairs, Adam hot on his heels as Koffman leads the two of them to the alterations department.  Part of the reason why Gucci— and this location, if Harry’s honest— holds such a place in his unbeating heart is because it reminds him of an era long gone.  When Harry steps through the gold archways of the store, he instantly transforms into a person worth noting, and is waited on as if he were a lord in Victorian England who was set to inherit twenty thousand pounds.  Now, of course, Harry could drop the equivalent of twenty thousand pounds in one shopping trip, but it was a large sum of money back then, when Harry could only dream of such wealth. 

Now, the immortal’s reality involves him being waited on the moment he enters the alteration department, with one attendant handing him a glass of champagne as another shows him a display of accessories to match his custom suit, which hangs proudly inside a garment bag on the wall.  Adam, for all his eyerolls, still accepts the complimentary champagne and appraises the accessories right along with Harry, who gets a chance to roll his own eyes as an attendant named Mara convinces him to try on a platinum watch.

“Would you like to try one as well, Mr. Styles?” The other attendant, Blair— Harry’s favourite consultant at the store, truth be told— bats her eyes at him as she taps a finger over the Rolex already adorning Harry’s wrist. “Could be nice to switch it up, no?”

Harry offers a polite smile as he readjusts the band of the watch on his arm, tutting in reply. “I’m afraid I’m rather attached to the Rolex brand for my watches, Blair.” He sighs before nodding his head at Adam, who’s become enamoured with the platinum band on his wrist. “Best to focus your energy on that one, I think.  He’ll make you some easy commission.”

“It’s not about commission, Mr. Styles, it’s about finding you something you’ll love.” Blair pouts as she leads him behind the dressing room curtain, her lithe fingers unzipping the garment bag covering his suit with one swift motion. “I thought you’d know me well enough by now to know you’re much more than commission to me.”

The smile on Harry’s face only falters for one second, the flicker going unnoticed by the employee as she carefully removes the suit from the bag.  The last time Harry had been here for a fitting, she hadn’t been working— he remembers because the new attendant they’d sent to deal with him had nearly zipped his suit into the garment bag when the fitting was over.  It had been Blair, however, who had originally measured him for the suit, and Harry remembers her wandering fingers that paused at his inseam a moment longer than needed, how she had showered Harry with praise as he modeled the sample suit.  It had done him good then as he strutted around the alterations department, flexing underneath the chandelier light as she’d complimented his every pose, but that had been nearly two months ago.  Moreover, it had been two brunches, four dinners, three walks, and an antiquing trip ago.  A lifetime ago, really.

“That’s very kind of you, Blair.” Harry finally manages to respond, his fingers pausing at the buttons of his shirt as she hangs the separate parts of the suit on their own hangers. “I’d trust no one else with a suit this expensive, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” A light giggle escapes the girl as she hangs the jacket on the wall, stepping back and admiring the pieces with a keen eye. “I’m glad you decided to go with the light grey fabric; it’ll compliment your eyes so nicely.” When she turns back around, Harry doesn’t miss how the same keen eye skirts over the half unbuttoned fabric covering his torso. “I’ll give you a moment to slip everything on.  If you need anything…” The girl tugs the curtain back just enough to let herself out, her pink lips tugging into a simper. “Just call for me.”

Harry’s smile grows tighter as the curtain closes behind her, and disappears the moment he’s out of her sight.  He’d forgotten, really, the effect he has on most mortals.  It had been something he’d paid close attention to before, delighting in how they all unknowingly stroked his ego as their jaws dropped whenever he’d walked by.  In a way, it’s nice to know that he’s still capable of that— he’s still a narcissist, after all— but it’s a little less satisfying when he’s grown so used to that careful attention from Y/N.  When it comes to stroking, he thinks shrewdly, a smirk slowly crawling onto his face as he strips out of the rest of his clothes, there’s no one better than her. 

Once he’s stripped completely, he dresses in the custom suit, pulling the crisp fabric along his muscled limbs and tugging it into place.  He starts with the silk black shirt, slipping his arms into the sleeves and buttoning the two sides together, excluding the top three holes.  After that, he steps into the grey trousers, tucking the shirt in and taking a moment to admire the black stripe that runs down the inseam of the pants, which— to Blair’s credit— hug his thighs perfectly.  Once he’s satisfied with the lay of the article, he slips the suit jacket overtop, adjusting the sleeves over the dress shirt as he fiddles with the cuffs.

“Now, don’t worry about the cufflinks with the suit, Mr. Styles,” Blair calls through the curtain, her voice grating across Harry’s admiration with an irritating cadence as she seems to predict his need. “They’re just some samples given by the store.  I’ve personally selected some more appropriate pairs that match your style much better.”

When Harry tugs back the curtain, Adam has shifted himself to the plush velvet couch in the middle of the room, his champagne glass already refilled as he slouches back against the cushions.  Mara, it seems, has disappeared from the fitting room, but Blair is standing just to the side, next to a table lined with gold accessories for Harry to try.

“Well?” Harry asks, stepping to the platform that sits in front of the mirrored wall, his jeweled hands tugging at the starched lapel of the jacket.  He regards himself in the mirror for a moment, admiring the fit across his sturdy shoulders, before rotating around to face the vampire and mortal. “What do you think, Adam?”

Adam takes a long sip of his champagne, mulling over his reply for so long that it sparks irritation in Harry’s stomach, which is only soothed by his long awaited comment. “It looks good.” He nods, squinting his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. “A little plain, compared to what you normally wear, but it’s nice.”

“I don’t know if it’s proper to call this plain.” Blair scoffs, looping the tape measure in her hands around her neck as she approaches Harry, her heels clicking against the lacquered floor. “Mr. Styles usually has a preference for something more patterned, true, but there’s something to be said for a sleek, simple suit.” Harry watches the way her eyes flicker down his body, pausing at his inseam with a look that’s less than professional. “And that black stripe along the inside of the pant certainly...draws the eye, does it not?”

Although her words are laced with implications, Harry directs a smirk at Adam as he rakes a hand through his curled locks. “It’s alright, Blair.  Adam’s right, it is a little plain compared to what I normally wear, but every man needs a nicely tailored formal suit in his closet.”

“Exactly.” Blair nods in earnest response as she begins to circle Harry, her detail oriented eyes sweeping over every aspect of the suit.  In the reflection of the mirror, Harry catches the way her eyes settle over the fit of his backside, her heartbeat increasing for just a moment until Harry clears his throat.

“The cufflinks, love?” Harry prompts, raising his arms as he begins to fiddle with the cuffs. “These sample ones are horrid.  You said something about gold…?”

The attendant snaps from her objectifying stupor, her eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror as a light blush settles over her cheeks. “Yes, I, um, picked some out for you here.” Her heels click again as she retrieves the velvet lined tray that’s studded with jewelry, bringing it to Harry for him to examine. “We have a few variations of the Gucci logo— interlocking G’s, some embossed onto gold coins— but I think this pair we just got in might be to your liking.”

Harry reaches for the cufflinks Blair points to, pinching one between his fingers and lifting it close to his eye to examine it.  It’s a pair of interlocking G’s, but instead of a smooth finish similar to the other pairs before him, these have textured engravings all around the letters.  It takes Harry a moment to realize that the engravings are scales, and the G’s are actually—

“They’re engraved to look like snakes, with black Swarovski crystal eyes.” Blair begins her infomercial-like spiel, holding up the other cufflink for her own examination. “They’re 18K gold with an aged finish, and the attention to detail is just extraordinary.  Even the back is engraved with an Arabesque motif.” She twists the cufflink around in her fingers as Harry does the same, examining the engraving with an approving nod.

“They’re lovely.” Harry murmurs, wrapping his fist around the cufflink to secure it before removing the sample cufflink from his own sleeve.  With one swift motion, he’s swapped one piece of gold hardware for another, fiddling with the fit of the sleeve as he sets the new cufflink amongst the fabric. “S’a nice fit, I think.”

“It’s a wonderful fit.” Before he can reach for the other cufflink, Blair snags his sleeve in her grasp, replacing the sample in a motion nearly as swift as Harry’s. “Beautiful, really.  It’s such an understated suit, which works to its advantage, but the pop of gold on the cuffs will really make everything stand out so much more.”

Harry nods seriously, a pensive look on his face as he examines the sleeves once more before raising his arms. “What d’you think, Adam?  Look alright?”

Adam offers a passive nod as he becomes distracted by the rack of watches again, his fingers draping over another platinum band. “Looks good, man.  But you know that.”

“I know.” Harry flashes a blinding smile at his friend, dropping one emerald eye into a wink as he fiddles with the cufflinks. “But I like hearing you say it.”

“It really is a perfect fit, Mr. Styles.” Blair nearly coos the words as she circles him again, her careful fingers tugging and adjusting the lines of the suit just enough that it can be considered appropriate for her job.  “Gorgeous.  The best we’ve done, I think.” Her fingers dance over his lapel as she adjusts the fall of his open neckline, and a flash of warning ignites in Harry’s stomach as her skin grazes the ink of Harry’s chest. “But the suit is only doing half the work, you know.  The rest is all—” Her touch travels up the lapel and across his shoulder, her body taking a step behind his own as her touch settles on the nape of his neck. “You.”

Although her skin barely brushes the back of his neck, the pin-prick touch bursts into a shudder that paralyzes Harry’s entire body, tensing his every limb.  When it releases, his frame spasms one single time in reflex, yanking itself away from the human’s touch.

The shudder doesn’t go unnoticed by Blair or Adam, although each has their own response based on what they know of Harry.  As his jade eyes harden to stone, Harry catches the cautious movements of Adam, who is slowly pulling himself into a tense and careful posture in the corner of Harry’s eye.  Blair, on the other hand, is merely frozen with her hand still hanging in midair, a confused and bewildered expression painted onto her features.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Styles?” She questions, her self-preservation betraying her as she takes another step forward with her outstretched fingers once again reaching for Harry’s shoulder. “Is something in the suit bothering you?”

Harry gives a rough shake of his head as he leans back from her touch once again, forcing himself to take a deep breath through his nose to collect himself.  When he speaks, his voice is low, raspy, and filled with a quiet fury that exceeds the intensity that would accompany a scream. “I think I’ve mentioned before,” He enunciates each word clearly, his delivery cold in every aspect. “I prefer not to be touched there.”

Despite the tense undercurrent of Harry’s voice, Blair’s expression relaxes once she realizes the cause of it. “My apologies.  I was just trying to adjust the fit.” When she places her hand on Harry’s elbow and tugs at the sleeve, her brow creases at the taut joint, but her voice remains as smooth and slick as ever. “I’ll make sure to keep my hands to myself— or at least, wait for your direction on where to put them.”

The smile that curves over her lips begins to fall as Harry’s face stays as stony as ever, his own mouth dragged down into a frown as the implications of her words settle around him.  Part of him wants to snap right there, to give into the instinct to bare his teeth, swell his chest, and show this emboldened employee what she’s really touching, but Adam’s eyes over her shoulder urge him not to. 

His friend knows how sensitive Harry can get when his guard is at full throttle, especially when that issue stems from anything vaguely related to that particularly haunted place the young woman had carelessly touched. Watch it, Adam’s gaze seems to say as he shakes his head just enough for Harry to notice.  It was an accident. You’re fine. 

Harry inhales deeply once again, grounding himself in his human persona with each rise and fall of his chest. “That would be wise, I think.” He finally responds, straightening his back and turning to face himself in the mirror once again. “Just be a bit more careful.”

It seems that Blair has finally gotten the hint, because every touch of her fingers over him for the rest of the fitting is calculated and precise.  Her hands do drift a little further on his body than what’s necessary, but she makes sure she doesn’t graze against his icy bare skin again.  What Harry finds most curious, however, is that every swipe of her fingers against the fabric grates on what seems to be his last nerve.

They’ve played this cat and mouse game before, always teasing, always touching, and just barely staying out of reach.  But it seems Harry has gotten too lax in his ways, he thinks, as his cold eyes watch the movements of the girl in the mirror, because she’s never been this blatant before, especially in front of another customer.  Does she actually think something could happen between the two of them?  Does she really believe that Harry would drag her behind the curtained partition, meticulously remove the suit he’s just paid thousands for, and trace his own fingers over her supple flesh as if he’s fitting her for himself?

The thought nearly pulls a ridiculing laugh from Harry’s chest, but that laugh is replaced with a pondering thought that irks Harry the moment it flickers into his mind.  He could do that, yes.  He’s certainly done worse, and Blair can probably sense that.  If Harry were in her position, of being the mouse that believes it’s the cat, he would probably think that something was going to come out of all their chasing eventually.  And why hasn’t it?

The answer, of course, comes to Harry a moment after the question does.  Even though Blair is, by society’s standards, objectively attractive, and obviously willing to follow any direction he gives her, Harry is smart enough to not draw attention to himself by hooking up and feeding from a consultant that works at his favourite store.  It had been Niall, he thinks, who summed up a simple yet effective rule wonderfully for him once: Don’t shit where you eat.  Plain and simple.  

But there’s a second answer that grinds at the back of Harry’s mind, festering inside every thought as Blair makes final adjustments, blathers on about accessories and additions, and tries to raise her commission by once again showing Harry watches.  Harry doesn’t want Blair, because Harry has Y/N.  Being touched by Blair feels wrong because Harry’s so used to being touched by Y/N.  And Blair grazing over his neck bothered him so much because he can, apparently, only stand someone’s fingers grazing there if Y/N is the one doing it.

And perhaps festering isn’t the right word, Harry muses, because the warmth that’s spreading through him with that realization feels a lot more like blossoming than anything else.  It flowers within him, lavender weaving through every limb, letting him know that maybe— just maybe— he’s not as selfish as he thinks.  He could be a complete monster, and fabricate a relationship for Y/N while still pursuing other people, but he has, at the very least, one shred of decency hidden within him.  Although he indulges his base desires whenever he’s with her, he at least has the power to resist one of them.

With that in mind, Harry finds it easier to pay less mind to Blair’s lingering touches and sly compliments, and instead focuses on cherry-picking the suggestions he wants to take from her.

“Y’think I should change the shoes, then?” Harry steps down from the platform, drifting closer to the full length mirrors to examine the black leather loafers adorning his feet. “Something more colourful?”

“Not necessarily colourful, no— after all, we’ve worked hard to create a cohesive look.  We wouldn’t want to interrupt that with a sudden burst of fuschia.” Blair laughs once, brushing her hair behind her ears as she hums in consideration. “But something with a bit of gold, maybe?  To match the cufflinks?  We could add some gold hardware to those loafers, or just find a new pair for you…”

“New is always better.” Adam chimes in from the couch, tilting his half full glass to Harry with a wry smile. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Styles?”

Harry points a ringed finger at him, winking once in confirmation. “Right you are, Mr. Prendergast.” He begins scanning the room, his eyes catching every pair of shoes displayed and comparing them in his mind. “Do you have some selections we could look at, Blair?”

“If you give me a few moments, I could certainly run to the back and pull some—”

As Harry’s keen eyes settle onto a pair of boots on display in the corner of the room, he raises a hand, cutting the girl off in one swift motion. “That may not be necessary.” He murmurs, walking over to the pedestal and examining the newest object of his fascination.

The boots are made of matte leather with polished snakeskin over the toes of the shoes, both fabrics shining the darkest black Harry has ever seen.  The leg of the boot is relatively short, and would probably only come to Harry’s ankle, with a black heel that would add an inch or two to Harry’s already tall frame.  But the pièce de résistance that draws Harry’s eye the moment he sees them are the embroidered gold dragons that adorn the outer sides of each boot, their bodies coiled in such a way that Harry almost swears he can see them breathing. 

He slides one finger around the toe of the boot, nearly shivering in how pleasurable the silky surface feels against his skin. “How much?” He mumbles the phrase with a reverent look in his eyes, his voice as delicate as his touch.

Blair’s smile twists into one of apology as words Harry has never heard from her before fall from her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, but those are actually a custom order for another client.  They’re not for sale.”

Harry hums low in his throat, his fingertips dancing over the gold embroidery. “I’ll add another thousand onto whatever they’re paying.” He says, earning a breath of hesitation from Blair and a sigh of exhaustion from Adam.

“Christ, Harry,” The latter groans, rubbing his eyes in a frustrated manner at Harry’s familiar antics. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at sharing?  Did you skip that part of kindergarten?”

“Kindergarten wasn’t really a thing where I grew up.” Harry reminds his friend, shrugging indifferently before turning his attention back to the torn consultant. “So?  Another thousand?  I think that adds on quite a nice percentage of commission for you, doesn’t it?”

“I— Mr. Styles, I’m not really sure if—” Blair stutters over her words as she quickly strides over to him, the clicking of her heels against the marble floor punctuating each pound of her heart in her chest. “I don’t really think we can do that.”

A short laugh echoes from Harry’s ruby lips as a grin dimples his cheeks, the humour of her words apparent only to him. “You know I don’t take no for an answer, Blair.” He raises his eyes to hers and locks their gazes, lowering his voice to a smooth and convincing octave, pupils dilating as supernatural magic flows into his irises.  When her own eyes respond the same, her face falling slack for just a moment, Harry knows he’s alright to continue. “You didn’t answer my question.  How much?”

“Just under four thousand.” The consultant replies immediately as the compulsion settles into her brain. “They would be around five if you wanted to add on the thousand you mentioned before.”

The smile on his face twists into something more conceited, and Harry steps back from the boots with a satisfied sigh. “I’ll take them, then.” Confidence weaves itself through his voice as he meticulously removes the suit jacket from his body. “Call Mara to wrap them up, won’t you?  While I’m changing, I’ll need you to start pulling some more selections for me.”

Blair blinks the compulsion from her eyes as Harry’s stare dips from hers, her tone thick with confusion as she sleepily takes the jacket from Harry’s hands. “More selections, Mr. Styles?  Of what?”

“Yeah, Harry.” Adam’s words are tinged with trepidation as he subtly checks the time on the watch now hanging off his wrist. “Of what?”

“Cocktail dresses, I think.  Although I’m not opposed to a cute little romper, as long as it has a bit of sparkle and shows off some leg.” Harry says thoughtfully, rubbing over his pillowy lips as he ponders the thought. “But I think a cocktail dress would work best.  Black, maybe.  To keep it classy, but not too classy.” He says, shooting a wicked grin at Blair. “I’d like to see a bit of skin.”

“I’m— I’m sorry,” The befuddlement in the human girl’s voice finally begins to clear up, leaving curiosity-tinged jealousy in its place. “What sort of event is this outfit for?”

Harry’s loafers echo around the marble room as he makes his way back to the changing area, a plan already forming in his head as he speaks. “A dinner.  Semi-formal, so no floor length gowns or anything like that.  Maybe bring some matching heels as well, although...” Harry pauses with the changing curtain clutched tight in his hand. “I think a quick trip to Christian Louboutin down the street may yield better results in that department.”

“Quick trip,” Adam quotes scornfully, downing the rest of his champagne and setting the glass down on the gold side table with a groan. “That’s what this was supposed to be, H, and we’ve been here for an hour!  We were supposed to pick up your suit, and then head back to Niall’s for the barbecue—”

“So text Niall and tell him we’re running behind; he certainly has no problem doing that to us.” A snort sounds deep in Harry’s throat as Blair walks to the ornate desk in the back of the room and picks up the gold-plated rotary phone, dialing a short number with practiced speed. “And, with the amount of times he’s complained to me about my lack of punctuality, he should be used to it by now.”

The other vampire rolls his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a groan. “Fine.” He relents, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “But you’re buying me this watch as payment.” 

“Fine.” Harry shrugs as he echoes the word, his voice casual and without a care as he slips behind the curtain and finishes undressing.  

Once he’s hung the suit back up on its hangers and redressed in his normal clothing, he retracts the plush curtain once more to find an annoyed Adam hanging up the phone, his newly purchased boots gone from the pedestal, and the heavy gold accessories that had been picked out for Harry being swapped for finer and daintier pieces.

Harry begins to examine the gold chains, humming in thought over the delicate pendants that swing from them. “How’d Niall take it?” He tosses the question to Adam over his shoulder, not particularly concerned about the answer.

“He told me to call you a wanker and rip off your ear, so,” Adam tucks his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head at the Irishman’s harsh words. “About as well as you’d expect.”

Another hum vibrates through Harry’s throat as he sets a mental note to make amends with his friend at a later date. “So do you want to rip off my right ear, or my left?  I have to admit, my left is my prettier ear, so I’d be appreciative if you left that one alone.”

The laugh that leaves Adam is so genuine that Harry knows he can’t be too annoyed at him.  When his friend joins him in overlooking the jewelry, Harry offers him an airy smile in return, pointing out a detail in one of the pendants to Adam’s interested gaze.

“Explain something to me.” Adam starts after a moment, his own hands grazing over a diamond bracelet. “Why go to all this trouble?  A dress, shoes, accessories… what’s the point?”

If it were any of his other friends asking the question, Harry would take a defensive response, spouting off a justified reply about how he looks so good in the suit that it needs to be seen, and that he can’t wear it and have Y/N not match him in clothing that’s sufficiently up to par.  But Adam’s eyes, albeit frustrated at times, have always been kind, and contain a depth of clarity that Harry can’t resist. He’s always been the most level-headed of the group, second only to Mitch, so the monster always feels safe trusting him with his innermost thoughts. 

“S’nice, I suppose.” Harry replies with as casual a tone as he can allow, lifting his shoulder as the sound of a rolling cart heavy with clothing pricks his ears from down the hall. “I’m taking something from Y/N, so… it makes me feel nice to give her something in return, y’know?  Makes me feel a little less guilty, at least, if she’s having a good time.”

Although Adam’s eyebrows raise at the mention of guilt, he makes no other comment on the surprisingly candid confession from his friend. “I get that.” He says slowly, settling down the gold necklace in his hand with a gentle touch. “I’m surprised you get it, but I get it.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry huffs as Blair rounds the corner and enters the room with a rack laden with black garment bags. “Don’t tell Niall I said that, alright?  He’ll never let me hear the end of it, and if he thinks I’m going soft— which I’m not—” Harry tacks on quickly. “He’ll start trying to fuck with me, and then I’ll have to rip off his ear, and it’ll be a whole thing.”

“My lips are sealed, man.” Adam laughs, gesturing over his shoulder to the clothing cart. “Shall we pick a dress for the lucky lady, then?”

A smirk paints its way onto Harry’s face. “Mhmm.  As long as you’re the one modeling it.”

///

A package arrives the next afternoon.

Like any Saturday when she isn’t working or with Harry, Y/N is home alone, trying to unwind from the previous week’s trials and tribulations.  Although she’s worked customer service jobs at home, working a customer service job in Los Angeles is a whole other demon, and she finds herself more exhausted than she’s ever been more often than she’s not.  It’s probably a good thing, she muses to herself over a cup of tea and her new copy of Sense and Sensibility, that she doesn’t have many friends in L.A., because she wouldn’t have the energy to go out with them anyways.  And honestly, she prefers it that way.  She’s learned to get along with her coworkers enough at her job that she doesn’t feel isolated, and sees Harry enough outside of work that she feels she has a shred of something resembling a social life.  Her quiet afternoons at home by herself are really a godsend, in a way.  They give her an opportunity to recharge to be present enough for social interactions during the week.  Being lonely can be a challenge, yes, but being alone is an entirely different thing, and it’s something that Y/N quite enjoys.

Which is why she’s so confused when her doorbell rings at 2:13 P.M. on a Saturday afternoon.

The moment the sound pricks her ears, Y/N pauses her reading, setting her book down on her lap as she sends a confused look towards the front door.  Her eyes slide to her phone next to her, tapping the screen to make sure she hasn’t missed any messages from anyone.  Harry, surely, would at least text her before showing up unplanned, wouldn’t he?

When her phone screen is found to be predictably blank, and the doorbell rings again, Y/N stumbles her way from her couch to the front door, her chain clanging against the frame as she unlocks it and pulls the door open.

A man she doesn’t know raises an eyebrow at her as she looks up at him, and a spark of fear flickers in her stomach before she realizes he’s wearing a UPS uniform and holding a large brown package in his hands.

“Are you Miss Y/N Y/L/N?” He asks, glancing down at the tablet in his hands. 

“Uh— yeah.  Yes, I am.” Y/N replies slowly, tugging the patchwork cardigan she’d stolen from Harry around her frame. “Hi?”

The UPS delivery man gives her a quizzical look. “Hi.” He repeats back to her in a monotone voice, extending the tablet in his hand. “Sign here, please.”

The urge to argue that she wasn’t expecting anything bubbles up in Y/N’s throat, but she tamps it down as she accepts the tablet, using the pen attached to the device to sign her name.  It’s probably from her mother, she thinks, scrawling her signature quickly before handing the tablet back.  Even though L.A. is famously a city without seasons, her mother has probably knit her two new blankets for the winter months, or sweaters, or some other woolen article of clothing that Y/N will have no use for.

The UPS delivery man swaps the tablet in her hand for the package in his, barely sparing Y/N another glance before retreating back down her hallway.  

“Um, thank you!” Y/N calls after him, shifting the surprisingly heavy package in her palms as she nudges the door shut with her socked foot.  

She carries the box to her living room, setting it down on her coffee table before pausing for a moment to double back and relock her front door (although she’s adjusted to living alone, the fear that’s been implanted in her from a young age about living in a big city still has a hold on her).

The box, she discovers upon further examination, has no return address, but it does sound like there’s multiple items inside when shaken.  And then Y/N remembers that she’s an adult, and should probably not be shaking a box when she doesn’t know what sits inside, so she sits back on her couch with a confused pout— until she once again remembers that she’s an adult, and can open a package addressed to herself.

It takes a moment of struggling to tear off the thick tape lining the seam of the box— a moment which would probably have been shorter if Y/N had retrieved a knife from the kitchen, truth be told— but the opening of the package makes the contents no more clear.  When she pulls back the top of the box, she finds sheets of packing tissue paper, which she tosses onto her living room floor without care to reveal the surprises inside.

And what a surprise the black and white box with Gucci stamped on top is.  Nearly as much a surprise as the second larger black and white Gucci box underneath, or the red and black box next to it labeled Christian Louboutin.

Y/N’s not quite sure how long she sits there staring at the packages in shock, but when she finally manages to unfreeze her limbs to take a sip of her tea, the liquid is considerably colder than it had been when she set it down to open the door.  The packages are so unexpected that it takes her a moment to realize that designer boxes typically contain designer items inside them, and maybe unpacking those will bring her greater insight into what the fuck is happening right now.

Of course, that’s not the case.  

Beginning with the smaller Gucci box, Y/N carefully extracts it from the brown container and sets it on her lap, untying the black ribbon encircling it as if she were dismantling a bomb.  When she lifts off the lid to find a matte black leather clutch purse with a gold Gucci emblem as the clasp, she almost thinks that a bomb would be preferable, because surely, there’s been a mistake.  Y/N certainly hasn’t purchased a Gucci clutch for herself, so it’s entirely likely that this was a gift for someone else, and the UPS man had just gotten the address wrong.  Yes, she thinks to herself, ghosting her fingers over the supple leather in shock, that must be it.  It’s a mistake.  And because it’s a mistake, she should back this all up and call UPS to have them fix it.

And then she remembers the UPS man had said her name, and that’s enough motivation to open the Christian Louboutin box next.

Based on the brand, Y/N suspected that the box would reveal a pair of shoes.  It’s still a shock, however, when she finds a pair of black satin heels that shine even in the low light of her apartment, with a satin ribbon death trap of an ankle tie, and signature red lacquered bottoms.

By the time Y/N reaches the third box, she’s moving on autopilot, her fingers robotically untying the black ribbon and lifting the lid without her instructing herself to do so.  The only words she can manage upon seeing the black cocktail dress is a gentle but emotive “What the fuck?”

The dress, she finds as she cautiously lifts it from the box, is made of satin, and is nothing she would ever purchase for herself in a million years.  The neckline dips into a low V, supported by off the shoulder cuffs, and Y/N can already tell by the cut of the fabric that if she were to slip it onto her body, the knee length dress would cling to her form.  And— Y/N shifts the dress into the light as her eyes widen in shock— as if that weren’t enough, there’s a leg slit that runs so high that Y/N flushes at the mere thought of her thigh peaking through.

It’s that detail, coupled with the suspicion that a single item of the package— let alone all three together— costs more than her rent that leads Y/N to the realization that only one person she knows could have sent all of this.

Folding the dress carefully back in the box and setting it to the side, Y/N fumbles to retrieve her phone from where she had left it earlier.  After unlocking it, she flips to her contacts and clicks on the familiar name, raising the device to her ear with a slow motion.

The phone rings four times before Harry’s voicemail crackles through the speaker. “Hi, you’ve reached Harry.  I can’t talk right now, but if you leave a message at the beep, I’ll try to get back to you.” There’s a moment of hesitation in the recording, and Y/N almost thinks she’s missed the beep before Harry’s accented voice returns. “Unless you’re Niall.” 

The expected beep finally sounds, and Y/N swallows hard as she tries to find the words she needs. “Hey, Harry, it’s, um, it’s Y/N.  I just received your package— I mean, I think it’s from you, because I don’t know who else would send me a Gucci dress— which I can’t accept, by the way.  That’s why I’m calling.  So, um,” She sucks in a harsh breath to give pause to her rambling before continuing. “Just— just call me back, alright?  Thanks.”

While Harry is usually attentive to every call and message from Y/N, her voicemail receives no reply, nor does her second phone call, or her third, or the four texts she sends to Harry in between.  By five P.M., she’s given up on hearing back from Harry at all, and is nearly resolved to pack up the box again and march it to Harry’s apartment when his signature sharp rap echoes on her front door.

Despite her frustration at receiving no reply from him, there’s an air of relief running through Y/N as she tightens the cardigan around herself and strides to her front door.  She unlocks it quickly, her greeting already falling from her lips before the door is even open.

“You better have a good reason for ignoring me all afternoon, Harry, because I’ve been wracking my brain to figure out why—”

And then Y/N’s frantic eyes finally settle on the man before her, and the rest of her beration dies before it can leave her throat. 

Harry is leaning casually against her frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest, as usual, and he’s dressed in a grey suit that clings to his body in a way that is so attractive, Y/N didn’t even think it was possible for a man to look this utterly flawless.  The suit fabric looks soft to the touch, more luxurious than anything Y/N could ever dream of, and the black silk shirt that lies underneath looks even softer. The human tries to not let herself focus on the way the shirt is slightly unbuttoned, showing off the inked swallows that decorate Harry’s muscled chest, as well as his usual cross necklace.  However, letting her eyes drift lower proves to be a mistake, as her gaze is immediately drawn to the black stripe that runs down the inseam of Harry’s pant legs, highlighting the muscles of his thighs in a way that makes her mouth water.  Even his shoes, black leather boots embroidered with gold dragons, are attractive in a way that Y/N doesn’t understand.

“Hello, darling.” Harry’s charming voice and dimpled smile pull the girl’s eyes back to his face just in time to see his lips drop into a discouraged frown.

Although Harry is usually greatly fond of seeing Y/N clad in cozy clothes with her hair in a messy ponytail (especially when his own cardigan is part of the ensemble), the look isn’t necessarily welcome at the moment. Yes, she looks adorable in her pastel blue pajama pants with cartoon sheep scattered all over the fabric. And yes, she looks incredibly cute swaddled in an oversized The Nightmare Before Christmas tee along with his patchwork coat. However, given the premise of the plans he’s drawn for tonight, her outfit is far from appropriate. Especially because he’d expected her to be wearing the dress he’d bought her along with the heels and clutch, dishing out a sexy but classy aesthetic rather than the ever-present lonely couch potato one.

He gives her entire body a quick, judgmental sweep, brows cinching. “I— why aren’t you ready?”

The confusion bubbling in Y/N’s mind molds into indignation at his words, albeit a hint of bewilderment lingers. “Ready for what?” Y/N demands, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at Harry expectantly. “I’ve been trying to call you all day about the dress, and you didn’t answer a single time, so I don’t know what—”

“The dress?” Harry’s brow draws together deeper, his easy going demeanor twisting to match Y/N’s within a moment. “Why were you calling about the dress?  Does it not fit?”

Y/N’s mouth gapes open at the question. “I haven’t tried it on, Harry, I—”

“What?  Why not?”

“Because I can’t accept it!” Y/N exclaims, the suffix of obviously unspoken between them. “It’s way too expensive by itself, let alone with the shoes and the purse!”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Harry responds in a slow and careful voice. “Why don’t we step inside, love, and continue discussing this while you get ready, yeah?”

Y/N scoffs at the condescension in his voice, but does as he says, stepping back from the doorway and allowing Harry to walk inside before locking the door behind him. “Ready for what?” She demands again, following Harry’s path down the hallway to the living room. “You still haven’t told me!”

“Christ, Watson, I thought if I sent you a dress and heels, you’d figure it out!” Harry replies with a half-joking sigh, a degree of annoyance beginning to work its way into his tone as he touches the ribbon of one of the Gucci boxes. “You’re losing your touch, huh?”

“Okay, well, apparently I’m a little slow tonight, so fill me in, Sherlock.” Y/N matches Harry’s snippy remark with ease, pinching the bridge of her nose as her head begins to throb in irritation. “What’s going on?  What obvious clue have I missed?”

“I sent you the outfit for you to wear—”

“I figured that much out, thanks.”

Harry’s emerald eyes snap to hers in an exasperated flat glance before continuing. “—to dinner.  I made us a reservation at my favourite Italian place, and I thought that the dress and the shoes would be enough of a hint that I could keep the rest a surprise.” He gathers the ribbon with his fingers again, rubbing the fabric between them as his face drops its usual haughty front. “You really didn’t...you didn’t try it on?  Do you not like it?”

The disappointed hesitation threaded through Harry’s thick accent stops Y/N short, worming its way into her aggravated chest and leaving a spark of guilt behind. When she speaks again, her voice is dulled by genuine warmth, less sharp and pointed and more soothing and grateful. “I...I do like it.  It’s a lovely dress; a little more body-hugging than what I would’ve picked, truthfully, but it’s beautiful.” Y/N offers Harry a soft teasing smile before continuing. “I just...I can’t accept something so expensive from you.”

“Why not?” Harry’s brows re-furrow in sheer confusion as he drops the ribbon from his grip, turning to face her fully. “It’s just a dress, Y/N—”

“It’s a Gucci dress.  And purse.  And Louboutin shoes.” Y/N states with a disbelieving laugh, crossing her arms over her abdomen as she drops her gaze to the rug she’d picked out from IKEA. “It’s too much, Harry.  I know you meant well, but I can never...I could never pay you back for this, or give you something as nice, or…”

A disheartened pout tugs at the corner of Harry’s lips as he registers the mortal’s words.  It hadn’t occurred to him that his gift could be perceived negatively; he’d just thought she’d like it. He likes to think their friendship is in comfortable enough territory now that gifts wouldn't be a turnoff, especially because of how much more time they’ve been spending together outside of the bedroom. However, as he stands here now watching her hug herself in the living room of the tiny apartment she’d told him she was so proud to afford, he can see how wrong he’d been in that assumption.  Y/N is independent, and has been from the moment he met her.  A gift like this— so extravagant and expensive— could come off as him mocking her financial status, almost, even if it had originally been bought with good intentions.

Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth as something that feels a lot like embarrassment begins to boil in his stomach.  She’ll feel like she owes him something, when that’s the farthest thing from the truth.  If anything, it’s long overdue payment for everything Harry has unknowingly taken from her.  

“I don’t care about that.” Voice dropping quieter, Harry takes a step forward, his cool fingers wiggling their way between hers and pulling her arm from her tummy.  Once her hand is within his grasp, he squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over the back of her knuckles. He talks slowly, keeping his tone level and honest to communicate the real innocence behind his prestigious present. “I don’t need you to pay me back, and I don’t want you to feel bad.  The money thing— that’s not an issue for me.  And I understand if...it makes you uncomfortable…” His gaze flickers to the ground as well before meeting hers again. “I can take it back if you’d like, if it bothers you that much.  But I was hoping…” 

He rubs his finger over his cherry lips pensively, taking a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “Well.  The reservation is already made, I’m already dressed— and looking like a proper stud, if I may say so myself—” He laughs once in an attempt to lighten the mood, his eyes glued to Y/N’s face to see if she takes to the joke. He feels cool relief flood his veins when she scoffs slightly, the edges of her mouth ticking upwards humorously. “And you’ll match me so well in that dress that it’ll probably put me to shame, dove.”

Y/N glimpses up at him hesitantly, squeezing his fingers with a playful air. “You’re really good with words, y’know that?”

“I like to think I’m good at quite a few things.” Harry grins suggestively, cheekily squeezing her grasp right back. “And I hope I can add ‘getting you all dolled up and convincing you to come along to dinner with me’ to that list. So...what do you say?”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip as she mulls over the suggestion, her fingers grazing over the lionhead ring on Harry’s hand.  He has gone to a lot of trouble, she thinks, glancing over his appearance one more time.  His curls are carefully coiffed, his skin is practically glowing, his trusty cross necklace glints alluringly in the buttery lighting, alongside a small gold hoop on his pierced ear, and the way the suit fits over his body, hugging every flexing muscle and annunciating every hypnotizing curve… 

“What time is the reservation?” She finally asks, eyes flickering to the clock on her wall that reads ten after five.

Harry’s eyes follow hers. “Seven.” He says immediately, licking his lips once as he grips her hand in anticipation again. “We have plenty of time to make it, if— if you want to.”

It could’ve easily been the money Harry spent on the clothing that sways Y/N to say yes.  It could’ve been the humiliation of not realizing what he was planning and ruining his surprise.  But in reality, the thing that causes the next sentence to fall from Y/N’s mouth is the quiet weariness in Harry’s tone— a certain shyness that she hasn’t seen in him before, paired with a specific type of subtle raw hope that makes her heart absolutely melt.

“Alright.” She murmurs, nodding her head once as she draws away from his touch. “I’ll go shower, then, and get ready.  Are you alright waiting out here?”

A relieved smile jolts at the corner of Harry’s lips as he easily nods in return. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.  I’d offer to hop in with you, but…” He gestures to himself vaguely as his grin widens with conceited teasing, shrugging one shoulder offhandedly as if what he says next should be obvious. “We wouldn’t want to ruin perfection, now would we?”

The jesting response pulls an eye roll from the human girl. “Uh huh.” She snorts, snatching her phone from the coffee table as she begins to make her way to the bathroom. “I won’t be long.”

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” Harry calls after her, slipping his own phone from his pocket.  The click of the door lock pricks his ears, but he waits until he hears the shower running to unlock his device and dial the restaurant number.

“Bella Vita Ristorante, how many I help you?”

Harry exhales hard as he rubs a hand over his eyes, his head falling back to hang off his shoulders as his mind recalculates the evening’s plans, shifting things out of place to mold everything around this minor hiccup. He tries to keep his voice as steady as possible, swallowing down the instinctive bothered bite threatening to elbow through. “May I speak to Vincenzo, please?”

“Yes, of course. Just a moment, please.” There’s a shuffling on the other end of the line, and Harry’s gaze slides to the Rolex on his wrist as he waits, not nearly as patient as he knows he should be.

“Hello?” A familiar rough Italian accent echoes through the phone speaker, followed by a light clearing of the person’s throat. “This is Vincenzo.”

“Ciao, Vincenzo, é Harry.” Hi, Vincenzo, it’s Harry. He answers in Italian on reflex, gliding his hand over his lips once more as he fights the urge to tug on his styled hair. “Come stai?” How are you?

Friendly excitement breaks into the man’s voice the second the vampire makes his identity known. “Signor Styles, sto bene, grazie! Non vedo l'ora di vedere te e la tua ospite stasera.” Mr. Styles, I’m well, thank you! I’m looking forward to seeing you and your guest tonight.

Harry glances at the bathroom door symbolically, exhaling curtly through his nose. His tone comes out apologetic and unsure. “Sì, chiamo di stasera.  Abbiamo riscontrato un piccolo problema.  C'è un modo per spingere la prenotazione da sei a sette?” Yes, I’m calling about tonight.  We ran into a little problem.  Is there any way we can push the reservation from six to seven?

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and Harry waits with bated breath for Vincenzo’s reply. The waiter’s response flows through the phone with a rueful heaviness that makes the immortal’s stomach plummet. “Siamo molto impegnati stasera, Harry… È un sabato, dopotutto.” We’re very busy tonight, Harry… It’s a Saturday, after all.

A frustrated sigh falls from Harry’s lips as he scratches at the nape of his neck, once again itching to yank at his curls but forcing himself to refrain the impulse. “Lo so, Vincenzo, e mi dispiace chiederti il ​​favore, ma devo. Sai che te lo devo e ti lascio una generosa mancia.” I know, Vincenzo, and I’m sorry to ask you such a favour, but I have to.  You know I’ll owe you, and I’ll leave a generous tip.

When Vincenzo replies, the hesitation in his voice is gone, replaced by reassurance and familiar fondness. “No, no, Harry, non mi devi niente. Per te, non è un problema. Gli amici aiutano gli amici per gentilezza, lo sai. Mi assicurerò che il tuo tavolo sia pronto per le sette.” No, no, Harry, you don’t owe me anything.  For you, this is no problem.  Friends help friends out of kindness, you know that. I’ll make sure your table is ready for seven.

Harry heaves a grand sigh of relief, a wide smile cracking his face in half. His head swings forward as a light laugh falls from his ruby lips, all tension washing out of his strong shoulders in one swift wave. “Grazie mille. Ti devo, lo fare.” Thank you so much.  I owe you, I do.

His friend’s casual demeanor filters through the phone with a dismissive click of his tongue, and Harry can practically see the older man waving his hand passively. “Senza senso. Ci vediamo più tardi, sì?” Nonsense.  I will see you later, yes?

“Sì. Grazie ancora. Ciao, Vincenzo.” Yes.  Thank you again.  Goodbye, Vincenzo.

As Harry hangs up the phone, he feels a weight lift off his chest.  He knows that it wouldn’t have been a problem if Vincenzo had been unable to move the reservation; all it would’ve taken is a few words of persuasion at the host stand, and Harry would’ve been able to waltz right into the restaurant.  But Vincenzo has been kind to him— has been such a good friend, really— and Harry would hate to tarnish that relationship.

With the new reservation secured, Harry tucks his phone back into his suit pocket, turning his attention to the gifts he’d brought Y/N that are still in their boxes.  He removes the satin dress from its packaging, meticulously folding it over his arm as he snags the clutch and heels with his hands and carries them to Y/N’s room.

Harry nudges the door to the bedroom open with his foot, hesitating in the door frame as Y/N’s familiar honey and lavender scent fills his senses, and the vampire’s gaze slinks over a place he’s spent countless hours in as she’s slept soundly next to him.  There’s been a few changes, he observes— warm satisfaction begins to bloom in his chest when he sees the tapestry on the wall has been replaced with the framed Monet print from the antique mall, her half emptied overnight bag is lying on her chair still from her last overnight stay at his condo, and the comforter on her bed hasn’t been fixed back in its usual place.  Harry sets the Louboutins on the ground before tugging the comforter back into order, draping the dress onto the bed and smoothing the creases that formed.  After he lays the clutch down next to the dress, Harry steps back and admires his choices.  It was good that he’d gone with the black satin, he thinks, brushing a hand over the shining fabric with a fulfilled expression.  It’s simple, yet elegant, and matches him perfectly, which brings a flutter of pleasure to his dormant chest like nothing else.

With the dress sufficiently laid out, Harry turns on his heel to leave, and his quick movement blows an unfamiliar scent around the room.  Harry inhales deeply, wrinkling his nose in response to the thick fragrance of carnations and cedar that settle into his senses.  While cedar isn’t one of his favourite scents, he doesn’t usually mind it, but the overpowering presence of carnations nearly gags him, and Harry twists back around to find the source of the offensive stench.

It only takes a second for his eyes to settle on the cause, a new addition to Y/N’s bedroom that he hadn’t noticed when he first walked in.  He takes one stride across the small room to her bedside table, picking up the object with a gentle grip.

The picture frame is made entirely of glass, but has a decorative gold edge lining the small rectangle as both decoration and protection of delicate hands from sharp corners.  In the center of the frame is a photo of three girls dressed in navy blue caps and gowns with red and white sashes around their necks, their arms thrown around each other as their posture curves, and bright smiles on all of their faces.  Although she looks years younger, her hair is longer, and her eyes more naive, Harry recognizes Y/N on the left right away.  The identities of the other two girls, however, stump him.

Of course he wouldn’t recognize them on sight, as Harry has never met any of Y/N’s hometown friends, but his ruby lips drop into a frown when he realizes that he can’t even conjure a name for either of the girls.  No first initial, no general idea— just nothing.  They’re ghosts to him.

Harry traces a finger down the younger Y/N’s face, searching for any part of the woman he knows now in the girl who existed then.  The acne on her cheeks that she’s covered in makeup for the photo match the pattern of light scarring she has on her face, small marks that Harry’s traced in the dead of the night as he listens to her breathe.  Her eyes, while younger, do show a faint glimmer of that stubbornness that he’s been so prone to witnessing.  But it’s her smile, Harry realizes, that is the most different.  While the size and shape of it are the same, there’s a dullness to it that digs into his mind, scraping against his every perception of her.  This is around the time she’d have been with her ex, he remembers, dragging a finger down the edge of the frame.  But what else was life like for her there?  She had friends, obviously, friends who still care about her enough to send her this framed photo drenched in their carnation and cedar scent.  Life couldn’t have been all that bad.

He sets the framed photo back down on her bedside table, scanning the room with a keen eye more closely than he had before.  If he tore through every book on her wall of shelves, would he find any inscriptions written to her from a person in her past?  Notes that had been slipped between herself and others in high school science class, still pressed between yellowed pages as bookmarks?  What if he dug into her bedside table drawer?  Would he find more pictures, letters from those she’d left behind?  It’s strange to think that with all the time Harry has spent in this room, there’s still so many secrets buried within its four glossy walls.

Harry settles his gaze onto the silk dress once again, worrying his bottom lip between his sharp teeth as he does so.  Y/N had been worried that a Gucci dress wouldn’t be a good fit for her, and while Harry had thought she meant she couldn’t wear a designer brand, maybe she’d meant she didn’t want to.  Maybe her hesitation didn’t lie in just the cost of the outfit, but in her not wanting something so extravagant.

Sucking in a short breath through his teeth, Harry clears his mind of the thought.  Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to, he assures himself, quickly adjusting the hem of the dress on the bed.  And besides, it’s just for a few hours.  She’ll be out of the dress soon enough, and into…

Harry turns back to her vanity, swiping the overnight bag from where he’d spotted it on the chair.  A pair of sweatpants already lies inside, but Harry still tugs open Y/N’s dresser and snags another pair, as well as a comfortable t-shirt for her to sleep in.  He packs two pairs of fresh panties as well, one high-waisted cotton and another a cheeky pretty lace (the latter is definitely for selfish reasons, if he’s being honest) along with Y/N’s favourite pair of fuzzy slipper socks, because he knows how her feet get cold on the tile of his kitchen floor in the mornings.  

The image in his head brings a smile to his face as he grabs a few hair ties from her vanity and throws them into the bag, along with her half empty bag of makeup removers.  She always gets a chill in the morning in general, so she normally emerges from his bedroom with one of his sweaters tugged around her tired body, half mumbling incoherently until Harry slides a cup of coffee into her hands.  In truth, sleeping next to his icy body probably does nothing to help the mortal, but Harry just tries to wrap her in an extra blanket to help remedy the situation.

Just as he’s tugging the zipper on the back shut, he hears the creak of the bathroom door, followed by the soft steps of Y/N’s feet against the runner rug down her hallway.  Harry straightens up just as the bedroom door is nudged open, and whatever sharp comment was on the tip of his tongue dies away as he sees Y/N.

She’s already done her hair, having styled it into soft curls that are pinned back from her face with two gold clasps on either side of her head, and if Harry were in a more comprehensive mindset, he’d be pleased that the gold will match the adornments on the clutch.  But Harry isn’t in a comprehensive mindset, due to the fact that Y/N’s body, still damp from her shower, is wrapped in only the smallest blue towel Harry has ever seen.

After Y/N shuts the door behind her, she turns around and sees Harry standing in her bedroom with a bag in his hand, and she clutches the towel tighter to her chest in surprise. “Harry—” Her heartbeat stutters as she locks eyes with the creature before her, her cheeks immediately flushing with heat. “What are you doing?  I said to wait in the living room!”

“I know.” He licks his lips slowly as his eyes flicker down her figure and back again, the bright emerald darkening to jade when he meets her gaze once more. “I was just laying out your outfit.  Although now that you’re here, wearing only that—” He gestures to the towel with his free hand as the edge of his lips curl. “Why don’t we just cut out the middleman and have a quick shag?”

Y/N scoffs in response, pushing her way past her lover to her dresser drawers. “I already showered, H, and I even put effort into my hair, so we have to go out.  Can’t waste it, y’know?” With her hand wrapped around the handle of her dresser, the human girl pauses, her gaze drifting curiously from Harry’s face to the bag clutched in his grasp. “What’s that?”

It takes a moment for Harry’s attention to turn from Y/N’s glistening cleavage to the object she’s nodding towards. “Oh, I— uh— I packed an overnight bag for you.” He clears his throat as he sets the bag on the bed, taking a step back from the item like it’s a ticking bomb. “It’s not— I’m not insinuating that you have to stay over if you don’t want to, of course. And you don’t have to use it, but I just thought that if you decided to, you’d want something comfy to sleep in.”

“How is it,” Y/N laughs softly, her curls bouncing as she shakes her head in disbelief. “That you can go from saying you want to fuck me to telling me you packed me an overnight bag, all in the span of one minute?”

Harry presses into the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he chuckles, dimples winking awake and eyes glimmering all at once. “S’easy, really, when you look like that.  It makes me horny—”

“Everything makes you horny.”

“—but I’m still a gentleman.”

A low hum echoes from Y/N’s throat as she opens her underwear drawer, surveilling the contents before she begins to rummage for what she’s looking for. “Alright then.  Would the gentleman be so kind as to step outside so I can finish getting ready?”

Y/N hears two quiet footsteps behind her before she can feel Harry’s cool breath on her neck, her damp skin prickling at the sensation.

“Do I really have to step outside?” He groans lowly as his lips graze the shell of Y/N’s ear temptingly, and she shivers when his teeth follow behind. “S’nothing I haven’t seen before.”

There’s a nagging temptation in the back of Y/N’s mind to twist around on her heel, drop her towel to the ground, give into Harry’s half-hypnotic seduction, and let him drag her back to her bed to take care of the heat that’s beginning to swell between her thighs.  But she knows she’s already pushing the seven P.M. deadline, and if she allows herself to take that detour, she’ll never make it on time.

“Yes.” She mumbles, suppressing a whine as Harry’s lips move to the pulse point on her neck, smudging open kisses down her heated skin. “I just need to do my makeup and get dressed, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

A disappointed sigh rustles across the shell of her ear. “Alright.” Harry murmurs defeatedly, smudging one last kiss to her jugular before stepping back from her intoxicating cloud of flowers and sugar that, if the burn in the back of his throat is any indication, is doubly intense from her shower. “I’ll just be outside then, doll.  Take your time.”

Y/N keeps her back to Harry, clutching her towel with a clenched hand until she hears the click of her bedroom door shutting behind him.  She knows that if she looks at him again, and sees that stupidly suggestive smirk on his face, she’d give him whatever he wants— which, considering she’s already trying to do that by going to this dinner, is a bit of a problem.  Once he’s gone, however, she’s free to heave an exhale of relief as she searches for the undergarments she’s pictured in her mind.

While Y/N was in the shower, she’d been trying to picture what she would wear with the expensive dress that Harry had purchased for her.  She only has one strapless bra— a nude coloured cotton contraption, which she’d purchased at a Target last minute for a dinner party a neighbour had thrown back home a few years ago— and she didn’t think that pairing the cheap article with a Gucci dress was going to work.  Some of her friends back home, however, had just mailed her a little care package earlier in the week, and one of the things they’d included was a strapless bustier with a note reading “Here’s to getting L.A.’d!” tucked inside.  They’d meant it as a joke, of course, but as Y/N extracts the lace garment from her drawer, she sends a silent thank you to her friends and their strangely omniscient humour.

Y/N releases her grip on her towel, drying the rest of the dampness from her body quickly before tossing the fabric over the back of her closet door.  After selecting a matching pair of black lace panties, Y/N slips the undergarments on, fidgeting with the bustier to get it to sit right.

A gentle knock echoes from the other side of her bedroom door just as she gets the clothing settled. “How’s it going in there, love?” Harry’s voice floats through the crack in the door, half muffled through the barrier. “Have you got the dress on yet?”

“Not yet,” Y/N calls back, sitting down at her vanity as she analytically surveys her makeup. “Patience is a virtue, Holmes, don’t you know that?”

On the other side of the door, Harry lets out a long sigh, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers along the inside of his elbow. “Yeah, well,” He leans his back against the door, sliding one ankle over the other as he lets the wood support his weight. “‘M not very virtuous, Watson.  I think you can attest to that.”

Harry glances over his shoulder at the wooden door, a smug smile peaking onto his lips as he hears the blood rush to Y/N’s cheeks from inside the room. “What?” He taunts, satisfaction laced into his accent. “Cat got your tongue?”

Pressing his head back against the wood to hear better, Harry is met with the sound of a makeup brush sweeping against Y/N’s silky skin, so quiet that human ears could never detect it.  He focuses his attention a little harder to try and picture the steps of her getting ready routine as she performs them. 

A rustling of fabric that sounds a lot like lace pricks his ears, taking his attention with it as Y/N grumbles a reply. “You’re such an ass.”

“Ah, nevermind, then.  Tongue’s still there, and as sharp as ever, I see.” Harry chuckles lowly as he listens to the nearly silent stroking of mascara over Y/N’s lashes.  

He likes that, he realizes, as he raises one hand from its crossed position to rub over his pillowy lips while he waits.  He likes hearing the muted sounds of Y/N getting ready— the bristling of makeup brushes against her skin, the hushed hums that leave her mouth as she debates over what colours to use on her eyelids, the muffled spritz of her perfume bottle against her neck.  The notes of poppies and vanilla mix with her natural scent of lavender and honey, and Harry’s eyelids flutter when the fragrance rolls under the door and envelops him completely.

It takes a harsh bite of his tongue and digging his fingernails into his clenched palms for Harry to restrain the moan fighting to break through his tightened jaw.  Months ago, when he first smelled Y/N in that club, he’d sworn that she smelled more delicious than any aroma he’d ever encountered, but now… Harry wants to laugh at the naivety of his past self, and probably would, if unclenching his jaw didn’t mean letting a growl fall from his throat.  Now, he’s convinced Y/N’s scent is an aphrodisiac created just for him.  All it takes is one small inhale, and his entire body responds.  Even now, as he presses his pounding head back against the panel, he can feel his mouth flooding with venom, his abdomen tightening, and a subtle throb beginning to bulge his—

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice breaks through the cloud of arousal dulling Harry’s senses. “Can you help me zip up the dress?”

The vampire swallows the excess venom in his mouth in an attempt to clear the lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah.” He replies, his voice strained as he struggles to regain control of himself.  He clutches the door handle in his icy hand, pushing the barrier open with restrained strength. “Yeah, I can.”

When he steps into the room, he expects to see Y/N facing the door, her hands clutching the loose dress to her chest the way she’d clutched her towel earlier.  For a moment, there’s a flicker of excitement in Harry’s belly that beats back the desire rolling around inside him.  He’s been waiting to see her in his dress for only a day, but it feels like an eternity, and he pastes a charming smile onto his face as he lifts his eyes to meet Y/N’s.

What he’s greeted with, however, is the smooth expanse of the girl’s exposed back, a clear line of tantalizing skin running from the nape of her neck to the curve just below her backside, only broken up by a thick band of black lace with satin ribbing.  

While he was able to control himself in the hallway, the inside of Y/N’s bedroom— with her mouthwatering scent surrounding him and her exposed skin in his line of sight— is an entirely different story.  Harry can feel the way his canopy green eyes darken, and it’s a good thing Y/N is facing the wall, or else she’d see the shards of crimson that he can’t stop from flitting across his irises.  With every step he takes towards the human, he becomes more aware of just how mortal she is— how her heart pounds louder with each passing moment, the shallowness of her breathing as he gets closer, the heat radiating off of every inch of her skin.  Even with his centuries of experience behind him, it’s nearly too much for Harry, whose every instinct is screaming at him to lock the door and ravage the girl in front of him in every way he can.

Harry doesn’t stop walking until the front of his chest brushes against Y/N’s back and his breath is hitting her neck.  He unhurriedly skims his palms over her bare shoulders, feeling the goosebumps that form underneath his icy touch as his hands run down her arms and back up again.

“This…” His voice is thick with desire as one hand travels down the trail of Y’N’s spine, eliciting a shiver from her before grazing the edge of the black lace. “This is new.  I haven’t seen this before.”

“I…” Y/N’s speech falters as she feels Harry’s freezing digits trail down the small of her back as his other hand continues to stroke across her shoulder, barely touching the base of her neck with each movement. “I got it from my friends back home.  They, um—” She sucks in a harsh breath as Harry’s hand inches its way towards her throat. “They sent me a package.”

Harry hums low in her ear, the sound vibrating throughout her body before settling in her warming tummy. “Did they?  How thoughtful.” With his palm finally at her neck, he squeezes it once, applying the slightest bit of pressure to her jugular as his lips brush against the top of her ear. “I should send them a thank you note.”

The feeling of Y/N swallowing beneath his grip sends another wave of desire crashing over Harry, and he bites back a low growl as the fingertips of his other hand find the golden Gucci emblem zipper at the back of her dress.  When he does, he tugs the metal tag up slowly, the sound of the zip barely audible over Y/N’s ragged breathing. 

“S’a shame, really.” Harry murmurs in her ear, letting his teeth graze her earlobe just hard enough to catch her breath. “A crying shame.”

“What—” Y/N’s heart pounds out of her chest as Harry squeezes her neck once more, applying just a smidge more pressure than he did previously. “What’s a shame?”

Harry’s lips trail down her jaw, smearing a single kiss along the dip where it curves to meet her neck. His fingers squeeze her one last time before releasing. “That this pretty little piece your friends sent you is going to end up ripped to shreds on my bedroom floor.” 

The blunt reply incites a squeak of surprise from Y/N as Harry tugs the zipper completely to the top of the dress, settling the seam flat against her flushed back before stepping away.

“Fits like a glove.” Harry murmurs as his hands return to his sides, fixing the fall of his own suit that was disturbed during his previous actions.  He raises a single finger and makes a twirling motion as he dimples a smirk the human girl can’t see. “Give me a twirl, will you, dove?”

Y/N inhales a deep breath as steadily as she can, using the moment to calm her racing pulse before turning around to face Harry with a flustered complexion. 

The dress, made of black satin, has a sweetheart neckline that sits off her shoulders, and hugs tight to the curves of her body all the way down to the hem, which sits just above her knees.  It could be considered conservative, really, if it weren’t for the leg slit running so far up her thigh that Y/N is a little worried about flashing her underwear every time she takes a step.

Harry, however, seems to share none of those concerns, as he hungrily drinks in the sight of her with a satisfied grin and lust swirling through his jade irises.  She’s kept her makeup fairly neutral, save for the bold red lipstick adorning her lips, and while Harry feels a prick of sadness at the realization that he’ll have difficulty kissing her throughout the evening, the idea of smearing said lipstick across her face afterwards erases the feeling completely.  And the dress… “Y’look so fucking gorgeous in that dress, angel.” He hums lowly, rubbing his thumb over his lionhead ring absentmindedly. “So much better than Adam did, and without all the complaining, too.”

Y/N stares at her lover with a blank expression “What—?”

“Does it feel alright?” Harry strides around the mortal girl, examining the fall of the fabric with a keen eye. “I took a guess on your size, though I think I did pretty well. I've licked every inch of your body to the point where I practically have it memorized, so it was relatively easy.” He gives her a cheeky grin as his hand grazes her waist. “But Gucci sizing can be a bit tricky.”

“It— yeah.  It feels alright.” Y/N tugs on the hem of the dress as she feels heat crackle across her ears, shooting him an accusing stare as she touches the thigh slit. “This is a little much, but other than that…”

“That’s my favourite detail, actually.” Harry laughs lightly as he walks to her bed, taking a seat on the edge before reaching for the Louboutin box. “But it’ll feel a lot more natural once you have the heels on.”

“Uh, yeah, about those…” Y/N eyes the offending shoes as Harry extracts them from the packaging, doubt painting itself all over her face. “Those look like six inch deathtraps, and I don’t really trust something that uses a ribbon to attach itself to my ankle, so I think I’ll take a raincheck on the heels.  I have some flats I can wear instead.”

Harry scoffs, a snort echoing from the back of his throat as he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine, love.  I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.  You may not trust the shoes, but you can trust me, can’t you?” He unravels the ribbon from one of the shoes and pats his knee expectantly. “C’mere.  I’ll make sure I tie them nice and tight, yeah?”

Y/N nearly chews on her bottom lip before she remembers the lipstick she’d carefully applied earlier. “Alright.” She relents, walking over and lifting her foot to rest on his bent knee. “But if I snap my ankle in half, you’re paying my hospital bill.”

“And I would do so gladly, except it won’t be necessary.” A quiet chuckle rolls out of Harry’s lips as he grips her calf gently, fitting her foot into the sole of the heel with one smooth motion.  Once it’s sitting nicely, Harry diligently wraps the satin ribbon around her ankle, stopping midway up her calf before tying it tightly into a neat bow. “See?  Nice and secure, darling.  You’ll be alright.”

Y/N’s cheeks boil as Harry presses a single kiss to the slope of her knee before setting her foot gently on the ground. “Next one, please.” He smiles up at her with a twinkle in his sea glass eyes.

That twinkle, however, darkens the moment Y/N hikes her other bare foot onto his knee, gripping his shoulder for support as she teeters on one heel.  The leg that she’s lifting is the side of the dress with the thigh slit, and she can tell from the expression on Harry’s face that he has quite the view.

Just like he did previously with the zipper, Harry takes his time slipping Y/N’s foot into the second stiletto.  He trails his fingers all the way up her calf and back down before reaching for the ribbon, and is more meticulous in his motions as he ties the satin around her calf.  

Y/N swivels on her other foot as she tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders, fisting the fabric of his suit between her fingers. “Thanks, H.” She clears her throat as Harry’s cool hands keep their grip on her lower leg, massaging the muscle beneath his fingers with careful and concise motions. “That’s, um, that’s good, I think.”

Harry hums in response, letting her know he’s registered her words, but he doesn’t release her from his grip.  Instead, he bends at his hips, making sure that Y/N can still grasp him for support as he connects his lips to the smooth skin of her calf.

He smudges his mouth all along the area up to her knee, each kiss sloppy and open-mouthed as he inhales more and more of her intense fragrance.  His nose nudges along the tender and dimpled flesh of her thigh, her scent growing stronger the higher Harry gets, and it burns his aching throat with lust and thirst.  He can feel the heat radiating from her core, and he wants nothing more than to burrow his face between her legs and lose himself completely in her taste.  But he’s already come so far, and put so much work into this night; he can’t let it all go to waste because his self-control is particularly weak at this moment. 

With that in mind, he sucks in another long breath, sponging one last kiss to the top of Y/N’s kneecap. “Does it all fit nicely?” He asks, voice gravelly with desire as he squeezes her calf. “The dress, the shoes… is it all alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” Y/N whispers, releasing the fabric of Harry’s jacket before it creases, smoothing it with her palms. “It all fits good.”

“Mmm.  Perfect.” His lips twitch against her skin as he drags another searing breath into his lungs. “Anything I give you always fits so fucking good.”

Another flash of heat rises to Y/N’s cheeks, and she nods weakly in response, not trusting her ability to form words. A quiet hum is the only comprehensible noise she can manage. “Mhmm.” 

Harry straightens up the slightest bit, giving her an expectant look as he releases the grip of one hand on her calf to lightly touch the shell of his pierced ear. “Sorry, pet.  Didn’t hear you quite clearly.” He says, his voice taking on a sterner tone. “Did you agree?”

Although embarrassment begins to crawl up Y/N’s spine, it quickly mixes with irritation.  She knows what he’s getting at, and she can’t afford to let herself give in. “Yeah.” She mumbles, keeping her response as short as she can.

Despite the edge beginning to creep into Y/N’s voice, Harry can’t stop himself from pressing the matter.  He never can, really, when he’s in a mood like this.  When his mouth is filled with venom, when his head is throbbing so much that he can hear a steady drumbeat vibrating through his skull.  He can’t stop.

“M’gonna need to hear you say it, I’m afraid.” He raises his ringed hand to the human girl’s chin, gripping it between his thumb and forefinger as he regards her with a firm and conceited gaze. “Speak up, minx.  I know you have no issue with being loud.”

All it takes is that one reminder for all of Y/N’s resolve to fall away, her entire body flooding with warmth as she lets out a trembling sigh.  She swallows the weight in her throat down as much as she can, pinning her eyes to where Harry is gripping her calf with a strong hand. “Everything you give me always fits so good.” She whispers, her voice higher than it was a moment before.

Harry squeezes the backside of her knee once. “Look me in the eyes when you say it.”

Y/N’s entire body feels as if it’s on fire as sweat begins to bead across her forehead, but her mouth is as dry as a desert. She swallows thickly once more, gathering all the composure she can muster. “Everything—” Her voice cracks once, and she clears her throat as Harry’s thumb sweeps across her chin in an encouraging manner. “Everything you give me always fits so good.”

When she completes the task, Harry gropes her knee once more, but this time the action is a show of satisfaction rather than demand.  He trails his fingers up her bent leg to her thigh, only stopping to dig his fingertips into the crease where her backside begins to plump. “That’s my good girl.”

Delicately setting Y/N’s heeled foot back on the ground, Harry rises from the bed, both of her hands grasped in his own to help her remain steady.  Once he’s eye level with his lover once again, he leans forward and stamps a chaste kiss onto her forehead, his lips already tugging into a small grin before he pulls away.

“Y’ready to go, then?” He questions casually, smoothing the thumb of his right hand over her knuckles as his left hand snags the Gucci clutch from the bed, along with Y/N’s phone.  He unclaps the clutch and settles the phone into its silk lining before handing the bag to the human girl.  

Y/N clears her throat once more as she takes a shaky step towards her vanity, grabbing the lipstick she’d applied before and tossing it into the bag, clasping it shut with a final snap. “I suppose so.” She chews on the inside of her cheek as she shoots Harry a nervous glance. “I might need you to carry me down the stairs of my building, though.”

Harry laughs once as he grabs the overnight bag he’d packed with one hand and reclaims Y/N’s left hand in the other. “Don’t worry, pet.  I’ll make sure Cinderella doesn’t lose a shoe.  Or break an ankle.”

“Thanks, Prince Charming.”

“Considering I’m the one that got the dress, I think the Fairy Godmother role fits just a smidge better.”

///

Although it takes careful steps, more than a few stumbles, and Harry’s hand wrapped securely around her waist, Y/N manages to make it down the multiple flights of stairs in her apartment building to Harry’s car waiting below.  After the ten minute car ride into downtown L.A., the majority of which is spent with Harry’s hand sitting perfectly still on Y/N’s exposed thigh, the vampire pulls the car in front of a large restaurant with a line of well-dressed parties winding down the sidewalk.

The restaurant itself, Bella Vita, is one that Y/N’s heard of in passing, but has never experienced firsthand herself, probably because it holds a reputation for being the premier Italian restaurant in all of Los Angeles.  Shock covers her features as she stares out the car window at the grand glass double doors, but only for a moment; after all, could she have expected anything less from Harry, who seems to indulge in luxuries the way most people do chocolate?

When the passenger side door swings open, the surprise returns as Y/N glances up and sees a blonde man she doesn’t know dressed in a suit holding the door open.  The breast of his outfit is embroidered with the restaurant name, but it’s not until Harry, who has already vacated the driver’s side and is behind him, flips the valet his keys.

“Thanks, mate.” Thinly veiled irritation works its way through Harry’s voice as he steps in front of the valet, clapping his large hand over the employee’s shoulder. “I got it from here.”

The valet nods curtly, releasing his grip on the door as Harry extends his hand to Y/N.  The mortal girl grasps it within her own, eager to receive the help he offers as she swings her exposed legs out of the low car and onto the ground. 

“There we go, love.” Harry’s voice softens as he pulls her to stand, giving her a moment to find her balance on her own before sliding his arm around her hips. “Y’alright?”

“I’m fine.” Y/N nods in confirmation as she folds her arms in front of her body, grasping the Gucci clutch in tight hands while she appraises the packed high-end restaurant. “I see why you insisted on the dress now.”

A low laugh rumbles from Harry’s chest as he shuts the car door with his free hand. “I told you, you need to trust me more.  Have a little faith.” He extends his palm towards the valet, shaking his hand quickly and smoothly while sliding him a bill. “Thanks, Leo.”

Leo retracts his hand from Harry’s icy grasp with another respectful nod of his head, slipping the bill into the inside pocket of his suit. “Of course, Mr. Styles.  Enjoy your dinner.”

Y/N watches as the valet hurries to the driver’s side of the car, sliding in and starting the engine with ease as Harry begins to lead Y/N to the door. 

“So…” She quirks an eyebrow as Harry confidently bypasses the long line of people waiting to be seated. “You’re Mr. Styles here, are you?  Do you come here that often?”

Harry lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, releasing his grip on Y/N’s waist to open the large glass door for her. “Every once in a while, I suppose.” He quips, the answer as non-committal as most things Harry says.  Once Y/N steps into the restaurant, the vampire follows closely behind, clutching her warm hand in his own as he leans down to whisper in her ear. “But I wouldn’t say it’s too often—”

“Harry!”

An older man that looks to be in his mid-seventies emerges from behind the corner, dressed in a fine suit and with an animated grin on his tan, weathered face.  He waves off the host at the stand who had been about to approach the two new guests, his arms already outstretched towards Harry.

“Vincenzo!” Harry responds with equal enthusiasm as he lets go of Y/N’s hand to clutch Vincenzo’s between his palms.  He leans forward and pecks two air kisses onto the employee’s cheeks as the older man does the same. “È così bello rivederti. Come stai?” It’s so nice to see you again.  How are you?

Y/N’s eyes widen in utter shock at the fluent Italian that easily slips from Harry’s ruby lips, watching as Vincenzo takes a step back from him with the same excitement as when he first turned the corner.

“Sto bene, grazie. È meraviglioso anche vederti.” I’m well, thank you.  It’s wonderful to see you, too.  Vincenzo’s attention lists over Harry’s shoulder to Y/N, who is still standing behind him with her mouth half open in bewilderment. 

“Grazie ancora per aver riorganizzato la prenotazione per noi.” Thank you again for rearranging the reservation for us.  Harry reaches back and intertwines his fingers with Y/N’s again as another Italian phrase slips off his tongue with practiced ease. “Ti devo un favore.” I owe you a favour.

“Te l'ho già detto, non mi devi niente. Gli amici aiutano gli amici.” I’ve already told you, you don’t owe me anything.  Friends help friends.  Vincenzo raises an eyebrow as he gestures to Y/N, who’s still a half step behind Harry as he carries out the conversation. “A proposito di ... chi è questo, Harry?” Speaking of… Who is this, Harry?

“Perdonami, sono stato scortese.” Forgive me, I’ve been rude.  Letting go of Y/N’s hand, Harry drifts his palm to the small of Y/N’s back, rubbing his thumb over the satin of her dress as he gently guides her forward for a proper introduction. “Vincenzo, sono Y/N, la mia ... amica.  Y/N, questo è Vincenzo, il titolare del ristorante.” Vincenzo, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my… friend.  Y/N, this is Vincenzo Genovesi, the owner of the restaurant.

Y/N’s ears prick up when she hears her name, and she smiles shyly in greeting at the older man. “Hi.” She wants to offer a more formal presentation, but is unsure if he speaks English or not, so she simply extends her hand to shake his. 

Vincenzo’s smile grows as he grasps her hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and planting an innocent kiss to her skin before taking a polite step back. “È così bello conoscerti.  Sei così bello!”

With a gentle squeeze to her love handles, Harry lowers his mouth to Y/N’s ear, his lips barely grazing her sensitive skin as he speaks. “He says it’s lovely to meet you, and that you’re very beautiful.” He translates, and Y/N can feel the way he’s smiling into her hair.

A shiver rolls down her spine as his cool breath meets her neck, but she manages to ignore the sensation, and instead sends a grateful smile in Vincenzo’s direction. “Oh… Thank you.  Grazie.” She tacks on, and although she tries her best to mimic Harry’s Italian accent, the way the immortal’s body tenses against her side as he represses a laugh tells her that she didn’t pass the test.

Vincenzo, however, waves off Harry’s amused expression, flipping his hand airily in his direction before taking Y/N’s again. She finds out that he indeed does speak English, and it comes out with a thick accent that holds so much genuine kindness, she immediately takes a strong liking to the aged gentleman. “Wipe that grin off your face, cretino, at least she’s trying!” He pats Y/N’s hand reassuringly, shaking his head with a disappointed scoff. “The last time he brought someone here, they spent the entire time doing a Godfather impression.  And it wasn’t even a good one!”

“How many times do I have to apologize for bringing Niall until you let me forget it?” Harry sighs in exasperation, his hand snaking around Y/N tighter than before. “I’ve already forbidden him from coming back.”

Shaking his head with a hearty laugh, Vincenzo pats Y/N’s hand once more before stepping back to the host stand and grabbing two leather-bound menus from the shelf. “I will never forget, Harry.  But don’t worry; I’ve still reserved your favourite table in the back of the restaurant.  Come, bella donna,” He tucks the menus underneath his arm as he gently loops Y/N’s arm through his own, tugging her from Harry’s grasp as he begins to lead her away from the entrance. “Let me escort you to the table, yes?”

Y/N allows Vincenzo to lead her, but glances over her shoulder to meet Harry’s amused gaze as he trails behind them, large hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks as his eyebrows poise teasingly.  The table in question, she discovers, is tucked away in a private corner of the restaurant, framed by a plethora of flora and candles that reflect back on the stone walls.  

Although Vincenzo releases her arm to retract Y/N’s chair, Harry beats him to it, pulling the seat out smoothly and waiting until Y/N is seated comfortably to push the back of it in.  He brushes his cool hand over her shoulder, nudging a loose curl away from her bare neck while offering her a dimpled smile.

As Harry takes his own seat across from her, the older Italian man gives him a knowing look, his eyes glinting with mirth. “Solo un amica, eh?” Just a friend, eh?

The vampire half rolls his eyes, nodding his head slightly as he lays the cloth napkin over his thigh, voice stubbornly flat. “Sì. Solo un amica.” Yes.  Just a friend.

Vincenzo sets a menu down before each of them, clicking his tongue in unconvinced disbelief. “Non guardi un amica come l'hai appena guardata.” You don’t look at a friend the way you just looked at her.

Flipping his menu open with disinterest, Harry makes a bored sound in the back of his throat, waving off Vincenzo with a leisurely gesture. “Vorrei la carta dei vini, Vincenzo, non la tua opinione non richiesta.” I’d like the wine list, Vincenzo, not your unsolicited opinion.

A laugh echoes from the older man’s belly as he shakes his head in amusement, taking a step away from the table. “Certo, Signor Styles.  Lo farò portare subito dal cameriere.” Certainly, Mr. Styles.  I’ll have the waiter bring it right away.  

Turning his attention back to Y/N, Vincenzo takes her hand and kisses it once more. “Bella donna,” He begins, heaving a long sigh. “It was lovely to meet you.  And if this one ever gives you trouble,” he gestures to Harry with a nod, giving her a playfully wink,  “I have five grandsons that would die for the opportunity to dine with a woman as beautiful as yourself.”

Harry’s face hardens at the comment, but Y/N laughs at the joke, squeezing Vincenzo’s hand before releasing it. “Thank you, Vincenzo.  It was so nice to meet you… Next time I come, you’ll have to teach me some Italian.” She adds, glancing at Harry as the curiosity of what they discussed before burns a hole in her belly.

The moment Vincenzo leaves the pair to their own devices, the mortal girl leans forward, the inquiry already falling off her lips. “Speaking of Italian…” She runs her finger around the stem of her empty wine glass, cocking her head to the side. “What were you and Vincenzo talking about?”

Harry waves off her question just as he did Vincenzo’s comments. “Nothing important.  Don’t worry,” a sly grin works its way onto his lips as he smoothly changes the subject, “he wasn’t offering to set me up with his granddaughters, if that’s what you were worried about.  It seems he only wants you in the family.”

“Who wouldn’t?  I’m a delight.” Y/N remarks, a wry smile raising the corners of her lips. “But seriously, Harry— where did you learn to speak fluent Italian?”

The answer rolls off his tongue as easily as the language did. “Italy.” He states simply, as if it should be obvious.

And it’s not a lie; he really did learn in Italy.  It just happened to be during the early 1900s, when he had been bouncing around between Florence, Venice, and Rome.  He’d liked Italy, actually, and would’ve stayed there longer, but then an Archduke was assassinated, and Harry had to return to Britain to fight in what was then called “the War To End All Wars.” Harry had figured that he might as well, given that he could shrug off bullet wounds as easily as a knick, and could use his blood to help heal other soldiers when travesties struck. The Italian, it turned out, had come in handy as he fought his way through Europe, but considering the bloody conditions under which he did so, Harry much prefers using it to woo a lovely girl in an expensive restaurant.

“Italy.” Y/N repeats the word in a deadpan voice, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her chair, kinking an eyebrow stubbornly. “When were you in Italy?”

Ah, Harry thinks, habitually rubbing his thumb over his ruby lips.  It seems a little white lie is necessary. “During uni.  I did a semester abroad.”

For a moment, he thinks that Y/N doesn’t buy the fib.  Her other eyebrow quirks upwards to meet its partner, but her gaze remains as suspicious as it has been since she first asked the question.  When she finally opens her mouth to speak, there’s a small, irrational part of Harry that thinks she might prod for more. 

“What do you mean, ‘a semester abroad’?” She questions, and Harry is about to over-explain when her posture suddenly relaxes, her arms returning to her sides as an easygoing laugh falls from her mouth, a seemingly entertaining realization dawning on her. “Wait, you grew up in England!  You already lived abroad!”

A breathless and relieved chuckle rolls out of Harry as his shoulders drop, the tension rolling out of him as he leans forward. “I suppose that’s true, hm?” He hums, reaching for Y/N’s warm hand and tugging it onto the table to intertwine her fingers with his own. “I really just went a few doors down the neighborhood, didn’t I?”

“You really did.” Y/N sighs wistfully, drifting her thumb over the back of Harry’s knuckle without a second thought. “I’m jealous, though.  I wish I had gone away for school, even just to a different state.  I could’ve been living in Washington, or Oregon, or New York.  It would’ve been so nice.”

The corners of Harry’s lips weigh down into a frown as he considers the possibilities laced into the comment. “I suppose, but…” He casts his gaze towards their knitted hands.  Hers looks so much smaller wrapped inside his. “If you did, then you might not have moved to L.A.  And then we wouldn’t have—”

“Good evening, Mr. Styles, Miss Y/L/N.” A waiter that Harry hasn’t met before appears beside the table with a wine menu clasped in one hand and a basket of bread in the other.  

The server is younger than others Harry has seen before, but Harry knows Vincenzo hires his staff carefully, and that he wouldn’t send anyone too inexperienced to take care of Harry.  From the sweat beading his brow, the vampire can tell that Vincenzo has given the waiter a speech about Harry’s status with the restaurant owner, and the thought brings a small spark of satisfaction to him.  However, that satisfaction disappears the moment he sees the waiter’s eyes linger on Y/N a moment longer than needed. He nods kindly to both of them, but the immortal can’t evade the small spark of irritation that zips down his spine at the employee’s subtle interest in his companion.  Shifting in his seat, Harry tightens his grasp on Y/N’s hand, but keeps his demeanor neutral and polite.  It’s not like he can blame the poor boy, really.  Not when Y/N’s silky lips are sheathed in such a breathtaking shade of red.

“My name is Luca, and I’ll be your server for tonight.” He shifts his attention back to Harry as he sets the bread basket on the table before extending the small leatherbound menu to him. “Here’s the wine list you asked for, Mr. Styles.  I’ll give you some time to look it over, and then I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.”

Although his right hand is closer to the server, Harry reaches for the menu with his left in order to maintain his grasp on Y/N’s. “Thank you, Luca.  I appreciate it.”

Luca nods once as he takes a step back from the table, clasping his hands behind his back. “Prego, signore.” You’re welcome, sir. 

Harry’s eyebrow jolts up in mild surprise. “Oh, parli italiano?” Oh, you speak Italian?  He asks, the flip in language gliding down his tongue without so much as a second thought. Harry hadn’t expected it, given that the young man’s natural accent is as American as can be. 

Pausing on the ball of his foot, Luca nods as colour begins to rise to his cheeks. “Sì, signore, la mia famiglia è italiana.  Mia nonna mi ha insegnato a parlarlo quando ero giovane.” Yes, sir, my family is Italian.  My grandmother taught me to speak it when I was very young.

“Tua nonna è una signora molto intelligente, allora.” Your grandmother is a very smart lady, then.  Harry’s mind drifts back to his own upbringing, when his mother would gather him and his sister around the table on Sunday nights, reading them Latin passages by candlelight.  The memory brings a sad smile to his face. “Grazie per il menu. Lo daremo un'occhiata.” Thank you for the menu.  We’ll take a look at it.

Luca nods again, but there’s hesitation in the motion as his eyes drift to Y/N once more, flickering from her own gaze back down to her crimson lips. “Is there anything I can get you before I go, miss?  Some water, perhaps?”

Y/N sends a bright smile to the young man, nodding her head as a strand of her curled hair loosens from its pin. “Yes, please.  And thank you.”

“Due acque, Luca.” Two waters, Luca.  Harry interjects, clearing his throat quietly as he catches the human boy’s eye, giving a curt jut of his chin that signals he’s done ordering for the time being. “Grazie.”

Y/N reaches for the basket of bread the moment Luca has scurried away, her eyes lighting up as she hears the first slice crackle open. “Ooh, garlic bread.” She thrums happily as she takes a small bite while being mindful of her red lipstick, setting the rest of the bread on her side plate as she chews slowly and indulges the flurry of delicious flavors. She talks lightly over a semi-full mouth, careful as to not give Harry an unpleasant eyeful. “So what’s on the menu for drinks?  I’m assuming you’re, like, an expert on wine, right?”

Harry’s lips twitch as he bites back a laugh at the hint of annoyance in her voice. “What makes you say that?”

“You shop Gucci like it’s Target, you speak Italian, you’re a regular at this place…” Y/N’s eyes sweep over their private corner of the restaurant before sending a teasing glance to Harry. “Being a sommelier on the side just seems like something to add to the list of things you’re infuriatingly good at.”

Despite the small jab, a satisfied smile settles on Harry’s lips as he squeezes Y/N’s hand. “You really are good at stroking my ego, aren’t you, dove?  I suppose we can add that to the list of things you’re infuriatingly good at?”

The familiar comment brings Y/N back to the night the two of them met, in a dark and deafening club that’s the complete opposite of their current location.  She twists her fingers within Harry’s, flipping their hands to examine his palm as memories float through her mind like movie scenes.  How Harry had looked when he first walked over, the soothing and seductive tone of his voice, how she’d done her best to match his flirtatious compliments… how he’d kissed her in his car before taking her back to her apartment.  She should’ve known then, Y/N thinks, that she wouldn’t have been able to let someone like Harry be just a one night stand. 

“I guess I’ll allow you to add it.” Y/N murmurs teasingly as she clasps their hands together once more. “But, unfortunately for me, wine knowledge is not on that list, so… you pick something.  I trust your taste.”

“Alright, then.  No pressure for me.” Harry jokes, snapping his gaze from her hypnotizing irises to peruse the menu once more. “Would you like red, white, or rosé?”

The human hums as she considers the question, pursing her lips in thought, as if the answer she gives is life or death. “Red, I think.” She replies, watching as Harry’s brow furrows in thought while shifting his eyes to the red wine list. 

A moment later, Luca appears again with two glasses of ice water balanced on a tray, which he sets down on the table before each of them.  While both of them offer a murmur of thanks, it’s only Y/N’s show of gratitude that incites a darkening of his cheeks.

Another thread of irritation flares down Harry’s spine, but he forces himself to dampen it down with a reminder that if he were the one waiting on Y/N— rather than being the one sitting across from her— he’d probably be doing the exact same thing. “Penso che abbiamo preso una decisione, Luca.” I think we’ve made a decision, Luca.  He says with a tight smile, snapping the wine menu shut and handing it back to the young man. “Prendiamo due bicchieri del tuo cabernet sauvignon, per favore.” We’ll have two glasses of your cabernet sauvignon, please.

Luca nods as he accepts the menu, his eyes flickering to Y/N’s ruby lips yet again. That’s three times in the last ten minutes...not that the vampire’s counting or anything. 

“Ovviamente. Li prendo per te che scrivi.” Of course.  I’ll get those for you right away. The server answers politely before tucking the menu under his arm and hurrying off.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Y/N says the moment the waiter is gone, her eyes alight with amusement as she pulls her hand from Harry’s to take a sip of her ice water. “But I can’t ignore it.”

Clearing his throat as he reaches for a slice of garlic bread, Harry slinks his head to the side before answering. “Ignore what?” He asks offhandedly, taking a bite of his bread and chewing it slowly.  Had Luca’s fascination with her crimson smile not gone unnoticed?  Or had Harry’s aggravation begun to show on his face?

“The Italian.” Y/N admits, setting her glass down and sitting forward as she rests her bent elbows on the table, propping her head upon her interlocked fingers. “I feel a bit left out, and, truthfully, a little jealous.  I want to learn.”

A playful laugh echoes from Harry’s throat as he taps a ringed finger against the table. “I can’t exactly teach you an entire language over one dinner, sweetheart.  I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

“Hm.  I know.  It’s tragic.” Y/N sighs, giggling quietly at the way Harry’s laughter cuts off completely and is replaced with a wounded sound of protest. “But what about some important phrases?  Just so I’m not in the dark all evening while you play Roman Holiday?”

Harry prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright.  Why don’t we start with Mi dispiace?”

“Mi dispiace.” Y/N repeats slowly, trying her best to wrap her red lips around the Italian diction. “What does that mean?”

“It means ‘I’m sorry’, which one could say in reference to, oh, I don’t know…” Harry shrugs lightly, matching the motion with a theatrical dejected sigh. “Insinuating that your date is without certain… talents?”

Although Y/N laughs again, she reaches across the table and wraps her hand around Harry’s, trying to tamp down the mirth in her voice when she replies. “Mi dispiace.” She repeats again, giving Harry her best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“That’s passable, I suppose.” Harry props his chin up in his palm, rubbing his thumb over his pillowy lips in thought. “And then we have ti perdono— I forgive you.”

“How kind of you, Mr. Styles.” Y/N simpers, biting her tongue between her teeth to hold back more sounds of glee. “Give me another one.”

Harry regards her with a thoughtful air, his hand sliding from his mouth to his hair to tug on his styled curls before traveling back down to rest on the table. His voice comes out a tad deeper, a vein of sultriness running beneath it that she just barely detects. “Sei molto bella con quel vestito.”

One of the words tweaks Y/N’s memory from earlier, but she still traces a finger over Harry’s initial rings as she locks eyes with him expectantly. “What does that mean?”

Swiping his tongue over his lips, Harry peers at her through his thick lashes as he encircles his free hand around the stem of his water glass. “You look very beautiful in that dress.”

A pleasurable flush rolls through Y/N’s belly at the compliment.  No matter how many times Harry pays her a positive comment, she somehow always still feels a rush with each word that falls from his soft lips. “Thank you.” She mumbles shyly, tucking her thumb between Harry’s ring and pinkie finger. “I mean— grazie.” 

“Try saying it back to me.” Despite the encouraging words that are said under the guise of teaching, there’s an undercurrent of command that turns the satisfaction in Y/N’s tummy to anticipation. “Molto bella.”

The mortal’s eyes flicker between Harry’s own emerald irises and his mouth as he curls a ringed finger over her hand, stroking the icy digit over her heated skin. “Molto bella.” She repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Fantastico, tesoro.” The praise slips easily from his lips as he lets himself bask in the warmth her flesh brings to his. 

“‘Tesoro’,” Y/N repeats, a tinge of confusion settling onto her face. “What does that mean?”

“It’s, uh,” Harry scoffs to himself in realization, unaware he had even let the term fall from his mouth. “It— well, it means ‘treasure,’ but it’s kind of the Italian equivalent of ‘darling’.”

The vampire can hear the way Y/N’s heartbeat spikes, sending a new wave of blood to warm her cheeks. “That—” The human girl mimics the way he’d cleared his earlier as she reaches for her water glass. “That’s pretty.”

“It is, yeah.  You’ll probably be hearing it often.” Harry continues to drag the pad of his finger down the ridges of his lover’s knuckles as a fond smile crescents his Cupid’s bow. “And here’s another one you’ll be hearing often— piegarsi.”

Y/N pauses with her water raised halfway to her lips. “And what does that one mean?”

Harry waits until her mouth has reached the rim of the glass and she’s taken a sip of ice water. “Bend over.” 

The response is instantaneous, just as he’d imagined. The mortal chokes on her water, coughing up a storm as she quickly lowers the drink from her mouth, half bending over the table and yanking her hand from his as her cheeks light with fire. “Harry!” She gasps once she regains her breath, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone else at the restaurant overheard his lewd statement. 

“What?” He asks innocently, but quickly gives into snickering, his body curling over the table as he cackles. “I’m not wrong!  You really will be hearing it often, so you should know what it means!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to say it in public!” Y/N exclaims hotly, shooting him a look of irritated disbelief that’s exaggerated to hide the boiling that’s working its way into her stomach.

Still chuckling every few moments, Harry reaches for her hand once again, interlocking their fingers and bringing her palm to his mouth. “Alright,” He kisses her heated palm while gazing at her through half lidded eyes. “Alright, I’m sorry.  Mi dispiace, tesoro.”

Y/N purses her painted lips, but sighs in defeat after a few moments of Harry’s moony eyes boring into her own. “Fine.  I forgive you.  Ti perdono.”

Although the annoyance has faded from Y/N’s complexion, Harry still keeps her hand flushed to his lips, stamping kisses to a new area of skin with unpatterned frequency.  He’s not certain if her warmth is just her or the residual embarrassment, but he doesn’t care.  It’s just nice, he thinks, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiles at Y/N from across the table.  It’s comfortable.

“I have your glasses of cabernet sauvignon, Mr. Styles.” Luca interrupts from beside Harry, who had been so focused on the feeling of Y/N skin against his that he hadn’t noticed the waiter’s return. 

Harry gently lowers Y/N’s hand from his mouth, setting her palm down on the table with care. “Grazie.” Harry says casually, straightening his posture to allow Luca to set the glasses down. 

Y/N does the same, offering the young server a thankful smile once again. “Grazie.” Her voice rings sweetly from behind her lips, her confidence more stable thanks to Harry’s miniature Rosetta Stone lecture. 

“Prego, signorina.” Luca matches the Italian easily, his eyebrows raising in hopeful shock. “Parli anche italiano?” Do you speak Italian, too?

The human girl’s eyes flick to Harry as her mouth falls open without sound, and the immortal reads the distress signal easily. 

“No, lei non—” He cuts himself off in the middle of the address to Luca when he remembers that Y/N doesn’t like being spoken for.  Harry redirects his attention back to her questioning eyes. “I mean— he asked if you speak Italian.”

Y/N gives Harry an appreciative smile before turning back to Luca, the expression turning apologetic. “No, I don’t.  I wish I did, though.”

“It’s a fairly easy language to learn.” Luca tucks his tray underneath his arm as he regards the girl timidly. “And your accent is wonderful already.”

Harry hides his smirk behind his wine glass, stifling the laugh that’s threatening to sound.  The server must be entranced by her beauty, he thinks, because that’s the most blatant lie Harry has heard in a long time.

Y/N, however, accepts the compliment with ease. “Thank you.  It’s not true, but I appreciate the effort to be kind.”

The tips of Luca’s ears redden as he laughs breathlessly. “Are you, um, ready to order?”

“Oh, uh—” Y/N drops her gaze to the unopened menu in front of her before offering an rueful glance at the waiter. “I still need a few minutes, I think.”

“That’s alright, take your time.  I’ll be back shortly.” Luca assures her, turning to Harry and giving one last nod of acknowledgement before leaving them again.

Despite already having the menu of the restaurant memorized, Harry slides the leatherbound cover open, dragging a ringed finger down the smooth pages as he feigns searching for a dish. “You know…” He flits his gaze to Y/N’s face as an amused grin begins to tug at the corners of his mouth. “That’s really not fair of you.”

Y/N looks up from her own opened menu the moment Harry speaks, a bemused shadow falling over her face. “What’s not fair of me?”

Harry reaches for his wine glass as he laughs gently, shaking his head before taking a small sip of the smooth cabernet. “Being so charming to Luca.  The poor boy looks like he’s going to pass out each time you speak to him.”

Her cherry lips curve into an exasperated smile as she rolls her eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.” She states, turning her attention back down to the cursive menu. 

“Oh, you don’t, do you?” Harry replies dryly, quirking an eyebrow as he sets his beverage back down on the table. “So you’re not noticing how his eyes are glued to your mouth every time you say something?”

“Nope,” Y/N pops her lips on the last consonant sound of the word as she reaches for her own wine glass. “Because it’s not happening.  We’re just talking, H.  He’s the waiter; he has to look at me.”

“Right.” Harry drags the word out, completely unconvinced. His own eyes glue to Y/N’s lips as they wrap around the edge of her glass, his throat growing slightly parched as he studies the way they curve in a manner that he deems practically flawless. “So do you think the way he’s staring at your tits is also in his job description, then?”

Y/N snorts at the snarky remark, lowering her glass to rest just in front of her chest. “You’re the one who picked out a dress with such a low neckline.” She unwraps her index finger from the wine glass to point it at him in an accusatory manner. “Why did you get it, then, if you didn’t want my tits out on display?”

Harry takes a swig of his own wine as he fights back a laugh at her bold statement. “Let me fill you in on a little secret, mi amore.” He says, lowering his voice and setting down his delicate glass with a muted thud. “The main reason I got it…” The vampire watches the way Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels the snakeskin tip of his boot brush against the back of her bare calf beneath the table. “Is because I’m curious to see what it would look like as a crumpled heap at the bottom of my staircase.”

The toe of his boot travels higher up her leg, circling around the bend of her knee before just barely grazing the soft flesh of her lower outer thigh.  Y/N does her best to control her breathing, but the effort is in vain when the cold metal zipper presses against her dimpled skin. 

“Harry…” His name leaves her crimson lips in a warning tone as she glances around the restaurant, eyeing the closest couple five tables away. 

“‘M excited to see it later, y’know? Been thinking about ripping it off ever since I zipped you into it.” Harry drags the toe of his boot back down her leg, coasting it lightly against her ribbon-wrapped ankle in small and concise motions. “But I suppose I’ll just have to be a bit more patient.  At least I’ll be seeing you like that; poor Luca could only dream of it.”

The human girl clears her throat quietly, taking another measured sip of her wine as she wills herself to steady. “The only thing poor about Luca is that he’s going to come back to the table and I still won’t know what I want.” She shifts her attention back to the open menu, ignoring the eye roll she receives from her lover across the table as she looks over the Italian in front of her. “I don’t know what any of this is.”

“Let me help, cara��� which means, ‘dear,’ by the way.” Harry says in an amused voice, dropping his gaze to the cursive menu. “Do you want fish?  Pasta?  Red meat?  Chicken?”

“Maybe pasta.” Y/N murmurs in reply, running a finger down the booklet page as she reads over the Italian descriptions.  Her eyes catch the prices next to dishes, and she nearly gasps, but bites back the sound of surprise at the last moment.

“Alright…” Scanning down the pasta list, Harry bookmarks a few dishes he thinks Y/N may like. “You’d enjoy the ‘Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe’, I think.” He muses, rubbing a finger over his chin in thought. “Or the ‘Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto’.  That’s kind of like pasta— it’s a potato dumpling, and you can choose if you want a meat or gorgonzola sauce.”

“That sounds good.” Y/N finds the mentioned items on the menu, her eyes sweeping over the Italian descriptions to try and pick out the words Harry mentioned. “I think I’ll go with the last one, with the gorgonzola sauce.” Taking a sip of her wine to seal her decision, Y/N poses a question to Harry. “What are you thinking of having?”

“I’m not sure…” Harry lifts his shoulder in a careless shrug as he continues to scan the menu. “I have a few favourites, and those are always solid choices.  The lamb is quite good here; I haven’t had that in a while.”

As Harry peruses his decisions, Y/N begins to chew on the inside of her cheek, narrowly avoiding her habit of biting her lips and ruining the raspberry lacquer she’d painted on earlier as an idea forms in her head. 

“Harry,” She begins, waiting until he raises his jade eyes to meet hers before continuing. “When Luca comes back over…” The girl chooses her words carefully, doing her best to voice her question in the most understandable way. “Could you order for me?”

Just as she suspected he might, Harry rests his menu back down against the table, giving his whole attention to Y/N as his brows furrow. “You want me to order for you?” He asks, confusion threaded through his accent as his mind flips back to their first date, when Y/N had nearly skinned him alive for attempting to do just that. “Why?”

She shifts in her seat under his hot gaze, her own eyes dropping to her lap as her cheeks sear. “It’s— It’s in Italian, so it’ll probably be easier if you say it.”

Harry shakes his head in disagreement as he tries to reassure his date. “No, doll, it’s alright if you say it in English.  Luca will get it.  And if worse comes to worse—” He cracks a smile, tapping a bejeweled finger against the booklet. “Y’can just point.  He’ll get the gist.”

Despite the solutions offered, Y/N continues to shift around, her foot bumping against Harry’s boot as a soft sigh falls from her lips.  She’d hoped Harry would’ve just accepted the request on her first try, but he seems determined not to repeat his mistake from their first date, which means Y/N has to get a lot more honest.

“No, H, I want…” She purses her lips as she twists her fingers around the stem of her wine glass, gently swirling the dark liquid inside. “I want you to order for me.”

The smile on his face darkens into a befuddled expression. “I mean, I can,” Harry says slowly, closing the menu and sliding it onto the table as he appraises the girl across from him. “But I’m a little confused on your reasoning.  Last time I tried to order for you, you said I was trying to make decisions for you—”

“And you were,” Y/N can’t help but to defend herself, flashing a stormy look at Harry from beneath her lashes. “That’s why I’m telling you what I’d like now.”

Harry’s mouth gapes open as he stares at Y/N with a blank expression.  A scoffing laugh finally falls from his lips as he shakes his head again, reaching for his wine and bringing the glass to his lips. “You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met, d’you know that?”

Y/N lets a beat of silence fall between them as she rethinks her question and how best to phrase it in a way that still lets her feel like she’s living in the twenty-first century. “I mean I— you said that it was polite, right?  At that brunch.  Your mom taught you it was a sign of respect.” Her eyes fall to the opal ring sitting on his pinky, sparkling in the candlelight like it always does.

Harry lowers his glass, watching Y/N with a guarded gaze. “Yeah.” He murmurs, licking his lips once as he places his cup back on the table. “She did, yeah.”

“And you’ve gone to a lot of trouble tonight— the dress, the reservation, everything— and I just— I wanted to—” The more Y/N tries to articulate her thoughts, the more tangled her thoughts become, and she sucks in a harsh breath of frustration. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

Although Harry has a suspicion about her meaning, he doesn’t try to finish her sentence.  The last thing he wants to do is make Y/N feel like he’s trying to speak over her. “It’s alright.” He says instead, snaking his hand across the table to weave her fingers through his. “Take your time, tesoro.”

Heeding his advice, Y/N takes a moment to just focus on the feeling of Harry’s cool fingers wrapped around hers, and allows her thoughts to gather themselves together on their own.  When she tries again, her speech is hesitant, but less frustrated than before.

“I think I… understand you more now.” She mumbles the words, keeping her eyes glued to the shining stones that adorn Harry’s rings. “When you do things that I’m not used to… I know you’re doing them out of kindness, and not because you think I’m incapable.” Raising her stare to meet Harry’s entrancing emerald eyes, Y/N takes a deep breath before continuing. “You’ve done a lot to make me comfortable, and I appreciate it, so… I want to do something for you.  It’s no Gucci dress—” Y/N laughs breathlessly, her cheeks flushing again as her intent flickers away from Harry’s own for just a moment before— to his relief— returning. “— but you were taught it was a sign of respect, like opening a door, or pulling out a chair.  So if you want to order for me… you can.” She finishes in a quiet voice. “If you’d like to.”

A slow smile spreads over Harry’s strawberry lips as Y/N wraps up her speech. “Really?” He asks, his voice hushed with delight. “And you won’t accuse me of treating you like you’re incapable?”

Y/N’s eyes flash to him in a darkened glare, but her tone holds a jesting bite. “Not unless you piss me off.”

A soft exhale of air leaves Harry’s nostrils, the beginnings of a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He quips in return, catching Luca’s eye over Y/N’s shoulder as the waiter approaches the table again.

Although his body is turned towards Harry, Luca’s eyes canvas Y/N once more, the action bolder this time as his irises spend longer resting on her cleavage after observing her tinted pout.  The lengthened look grates against Harry’s nerves, and he clears his throat in a slightly irritated manner to call the young man’s attention back his way.

“Oh, uhm—” Luca’s ears redden as he turns back to Harry, clearing his throat as he steadies himself. “Sei pronto per ordinare, signor Styles?” Are you ready to order, Mr. Styles?

“Sì,” Harry replies curtly, tapping his thumb against Y/N’s soft hand. “Y/N vorrebbe gli Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto con la salsa al gorgonzola, e io prendo il filet mignon, cotto raro, per favore.” Y/N will have the Gnocchi al Vostro Gusto with the gorgonzola sauce, and I’ll have the filet mignon, cooked rare, please. He says smoothly, and he can’t deny the satisfied pleasure that curls inside his belly when he sees the gentle eyes Y/N gives him across the table.

Luca nods once as he takes the menus from the two of them, careful to keep his eyes away from Y/N’s mouth as he gathers her leatherbound copy and scuttles off to submit their orders to the kitchen.

“Okay.” Y/N says reluctantly, squeezing Harry’s hand within her own with a sigh as she watches the waiter disappear. “I will admit, I did notice his eyes drifting a little low there.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Harry asks, eyes widening in dramatized disbelief.  He wills himself to keep a triumphant grin off his face, but knows he doesn’t quite succeed. “Did you just admit I was right?  Did that just happen?”

“Oh, shut up.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N shakes her head as she takes another bite of garlic bread, her tongue poking from her mouth to catch a crumb at the corner of her lip. “If you’re going to act like such a child, I’ll take it back.”

Harry brings her knuckles to his mouth, brushing them against his lips in a tender motion. “I’m just trying to savour the moment, angel.” His cool breath crawls over her skin, eliciting a shiver from the human girl that he adores. “Who knows when I’ll get to experience it again.”

“Never, if I have any say in it.”

“Should we ask Luca to weigh in on this little debate, too? You know, since he’s practically as acquainted with you as I am.” 

“Bite me.”

The monster’s dimples wink at the irony of her insult, and his voice carries a knowing edge that only he can decipher. “Don’t I always?”

They fall into their usual rhythm after that, easily discussing what each of them had been up to throughout the week during their gaps away from the other.  Those gaps, Harry realizes as he listens to a work story from Y/N, are becoming shorter and shorter. He’d swung by Y/N’s cafe for lunch on Thursday to order a mediocre at best sandwich, and indulge in a far from mediocre makeout session in the back of his car.  And watching Y/N hurriedly tighten her ponytail while she stumbled away from his Cadillac, cheeks flaming as she nearly ran to the employee entrance around the back of the building before her break ended, had prompted Harry to call her that night for a long overdue phone sex session.  

Even after they had both helped the other reach climax, and post-orgasm photos had been sent (Harry had received a picture of Y/N stretched out on her bed, her face visibly heated and chest sweaty as she wore nothing but his “enjoy health” t-shirt, and in return, he’d sent a snapshot of his cum-covered abdomen, fingers resting delicately at the edge of his butterfly tattoo), the vampire and human had stayed on the line as they both caught their breath.  Harry had followed the nude photo with a picture of him posing with a glass of water and a thumbs up, smiling grandly amidst his colored cheeks and sweaty curls, captioning it “Make sure to hydrate after a workout!” The energy it took to take the self-timed photo was worth it when he’d heard Y/N’s laugh tumble out from the opposite end of the line. 

It’s the same carefree laugh that she’s trying to stifle now, her hand pressed over her mouth and nose as her eyes send an apologetic glance at Luca setting her plate of gnocchi down in front of her.

“Thank you, Luca,” She manages to choke out, wiping her eyes with the edge of her thumb to stop the saltwater threatening to rush down her heated cheeks. “It looks delicious.”

Harry nods in agreement as the waiter sets his own dish in front of him, his mischievous smirk still shining at Y/N from across the table. “Grazie.” He says as he curls his lips around his newly topped off wine glass.

Y/N bites her tongue to hold back the continuous laughter that’s on the verge of bursting from her chest like a dam.  With every moment Harry keeps his eyes locked on hers, the human girl has to press her lips harder and harder together, and barely manages to wait until Luca has left them again to release the wave of giggles that crest out of her chest.

“Something amusing?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he sets his glass down, hardly able to hold back his own laughter as couples seated away from them begin to take notice of the boisterous sounds.

“You—” Y/N sucks in a ragged breath, half snorting once more as she manages to calm herself enough to take a small sip of wine.  The liquid soothes the raw ache in her throat that is practically raw from the convulsed snickers. “You did not say that to him!”

“I did.” Harry answers smugly, adjusting the napkin covering the light grey fabric stretched over his lap before picking up his knife and fork. “He was too certain that no girl had ever faked it with him just because of a leg shake.  I couldn’t let him live in that delusion; it’d be a crime, really.  Just plain cruel.”

“Oh, right, like telling your friend that all the girls he’s been with have been faking it isn’t cruel?” She gently sets down her wine glass at the edge of her plate as she voices the retort, shaking her head in disbelief. “Poor Niall.”

“Not Poor Niall!  I was trying to help him!” Despite the claim, Harry can’t stop himself from chuckling out the words. “How’s he going to fix his ways if he doesn’t know anything is wrong?”

“Alright, so riddle me this, then, Dr. Phil.” Y/N picks up her fork, spearing a piece of gnocchi and holding the chunk above her plate as she issues her challenge to Harry. “How did you become the expert in whether or not a girl is faking it?  Do you have a lot of experience with that?”

“Not in the slightest.  I think you know that much.” Just as he did before, Harry begins to slide the tip of his boot up Y/N’s calf, relishing in the slight hitch in her breath and stutter of her heart. “If I’m an expert in anything, it’s how to make someone cum until their legs actually shake.  That’s why I can tell the fake from the real.”

Y/N takes a deep breath through her mouth, closing her eyes for a moment as she forms a coherent reply. “I guess I do know that.” She relents, opening her eyes just in time to see the simper that’s growing again across Harry’s face as he continues to rub up and down her leg with his shoe.  Y/N lifts her fork, carefully slipping the sauce-covered gnocchi into her mouth. “But Niall doesn’t— holy shit.” The mortal gasps as the flavours burst across her tongue, the perfect mix of savoury and salty and drenched in decadence.

“It’s good, innit?” Harry pokes his cheek with his tongue as he slices off a corner of his steak, checking the rarity of the meat before bringing it to his mouth. “There’s a reason this is my favourite restaurant, and it’s not just Vincenzo.”

“It’s fucking delicious.” Y/N can’t think to censor herself as she meticulously chews and swallows the bite, savouring every second before poking another gnocchi onto her fork. “I understand the price now.  It’s still outrageous, but I get it.”

Harry watches the way Y/N’s lashes flutter as she chews her bites, and the satisfaction growing in his belly increases. “High quality is worth paying for.” He states, slicing off another portion of steak. 

Y/N nods slowly, swallowing the food before pointing the prongs of her fork at Harry’s plate. “How’s your filet mignon?” She asks, spearing another bite of gnocchi onto the utensil. “Worth the price point?”

Dragging the bite on his fork through the sauce that’s pooled on his plate, Harry beckons her forward as he extends the piece towards her. “Open your mouth and find out.”

There’s something about the way that Y/N immediately obeys the command— setting down her own fork and leaning across the table to wrap her lips around Harry’s— that sends a shiver down his spine.  With her mouth closed, she slides the cut of beef off the silverware and leans back in her seat, chewing thoughtfully with a contemplative look on her face. 

A drop of sauce is smeared from the bite, dripping from the edge of her mouth, and although it goes unnoticed by Y/N, it’s all Harry can see as he watches her savor the bite of food.  He leans forward more, collecting the droplet on the pad of his thumb, which he brings to his mouth and licks off casually before settling back in his chair.

“Like it, tesoro?” He asks, an expectant look glinting in his eye as he slices off another bite for himself. 

Y/N cocks her head to the side as she swallows, trying her best to focus on the flavour and not the way Harry had been so careful not to smear her lipstick as he touched her. “I like the sauce.  It’s sweet, but has a bit of a kick to it.  The steak, however…” She wrinkles her nose the slightest bit. “It’s a little too rare for my taste, I think.  I’m not really a fan of anything bloody.”

Harry curls his tongue inside his mouth as he allows himself a single laugh. “No?” He questions, spearing a piece of meat and sliding it past his lips. “I can’t say the same.  I like my steaks cooked rare.  The bloodier, the better.” 

“I bet you’re one of those weirdos who orders blue steak, huh?” Y/N asks, taking a gulp of her wine to wash out the taste of the meat. “Like, still cold in the middle, and looking practically raw…”

“Oh, no.  Not at all.” Harry’s chuckles increase, and he has to hide them behind a false cough to stop himself from drawing more attention. “It tastes much better if the meal is warm.”

Although Y/N doesn’t grasp the full meaning behind his words— and thank God she doesn’t, Harry thinks, because she’d probably run screaming from the restaurant— she hums in acknowledgement as she swirls the wine around her glass.

“But you’re enjoying your meal, right?” Harry changes the subject swiftly, deciding he’s indulged his one-sided humour long enough. “I have no problem sending it back if it’s not to your liking.”

The human’s eyes widen as she swiftly sets down her glass, shaking her head at the question. “No, no, it’s delicious!  Probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten, honestly.” She collects another bit on her fork, twirling the potato dumpling through the gorgonzola sauce before motioning to Harry. “Wanna try?”

When Harry nods in response, they slip back into their former position, both of them leaning forward in their seats to meet in the middle of the table.  Y/N slips the fork into his mouth, feeling the resistance as Harry’s white teeth meet the strong metal of the cutlery. 

Just as had happened to her a few moments prior, a small droplet of sauce gathers at the corner of Harry’s mouth as she pulls her fork away.  Y/N collects the sauce with her thumb as Harry had as well, but before she can sit herself back in her chair, Harry captures her wrist within his cool hand. 

Keeping his canopy green eyes locked with hers, the creature slips her thumb into his mouth, licking the remnants of the bite off the digit with his slick tongue.  His boot continues its climb up her leg, just barely reaching her thigh again before traveling back down to plant itself firmly onto the floor of the restaurant.

A quiet gasp leaves Y/N’s mouth as Harry lulls his tongue around her thumb one last time, and the barely audible sound raises his strawberry lips into a hint of a grin as he extracts the finger from his mouth.  With his hand still wrapped around her wrist, Harry brings her open palm forward and plants a delicate kiss to the center of her hand.

“That’s quite good.” Harry finally says nonchalantly, attentively setting Y/N’s hand back down on the table and releasing her wrist from his grasp. “I’ll have to try it the next time we come.”

Y/N struggles to regulate her breathing as she retracts her hand from the table, setting it down in her lap as her fingers involuntarily clench into her heated thigh. “Um, yeah.” She wisps, clearing her throat once as she reaches for a slice of garlic bread. “Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s really good.  The sauce is— it has a nice balance to it, I think, with the thyme…”

“I agree.” Harry wipes his wet finger off on the napkin laying over his thigh. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, don’t you, pet?”

“You would know.” Y/N huffs snidely, cheeks blazing as she reaches for her wine again to extract a heavy gulp of the liquor.  

In the moments of silence that fall between them, Y/N allows herself to canvas the restaurant, observing the interactions of those around her.  True to Vincenzo’s promise of a private spot, the couples nearest to them are all at least five tables away, and partially hidden from view because of the positioning of their corner booth.  However, Y/N’s sharp eyes don’t miss how every formally-dressed staff member, from servers to busboys and hosts, cast their eyes in Harry’s direction each time they pass by.  Some even whisper to their coworkers as they turn the corner, their gazes always lingering on Harry with a mix of awe and wonder.

“Have you noticed how all the staff here watch you?” Y/N asks as she catches the eye of a passing waitress, who offers her a tense smile before sliding her stare towards Harry. 

“Do they?” Harry replies curiously, raising his wine glass to his lips as he lightly shrugs. “I’ve never paid much attention to it.”

“I think Vincenzo’s given them all the update on the prestigious British bachelor, Harry Styles.” Y/N pokes fun, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully as she contemplates Harry with an observant eye. “Or maybe they’ve all just noticed the ridiculous amount of designer labels you insist on wearing.” She teases him with a playful grin, tapping a finger against the Gucci cufflinks on his sleeves. “I feel a bit like a celebrity.”

A modest laugh breaks past Harry’s lips as he lowers the glass, keeping his ringed fingers twisted around the stem. “In my experience, I’ve found you’re treated best when you treat the staff best.  I tip well, so I receive better service.  When I receive better service, I tip more.  It’s a bit of a cycle, isn’t it?” He asks rhetorically, the tip of his boot once again exploring the soft skin of Y/N’s bare leg. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.  I thought I’d test the waters tonight and see how well you like the high life before I arrange anything more… extravagant.”

“More extravagant?” Y/N laughs at the idea, propping her elbow on the table and plopping her chin in her hand as her eyebrows raise. “What could possibly be more extravagant than a Gucci cocktail dress, Loubotin heels, and a fifty dollar pasta dish?”

The answer rolls off Harry’s tongue immediately, slathered in a jesting, matter-of-fact tone. “A trip to the Bahamas, obviously.”

Although Y/N’s eyes widen slightly at the comment, it’s not long before she giggles softly, the wine beginning to twist its way through her system.  Harry can smell the way her lavender and honey scent is intertwined with the dark, fruity notes of the liquor, but even if he couldn’t, it would be obvious in the way she draws towards him with a tender smile on her face.  Despite the dewy appearance of her skin amidst the lulled candlelight, it’s the genuine warmth behind Y/N’s eyes that makes Harry feel like her gaze could thaw the ice from his long-frozen limbs.

It’s that warmth that brings Harry to reach over the table after Luca has cleared their bare plates and refilled their glasses, dragging his hands across the linen tablecloth with his palms turned upwards.  He just can’t ever seem to stifle the need to touch her.

The motion is a quiet question in itself, and Y/N gives the desired answer when she fills his empty grasp with her own palms, automatically tangling her bare fingers with Harry’s jeweled digits. For a moment, Harry just sits there, thumbing over her fragile knuckles in the way he’s grown so accustomed to doing, basking in the heat that congregates in his chest and gives him the feeling that he’s glowing.  He almost hates to break the perfect silence between them, which is so understanding, but he’s been thinking about his words too carefully to swallow them back.

“Thank you for agreeing to let me take you out.” He says, his voice gentle and low, a far cry from his usual cocky drawl. “It’s…It’s been a really long time since I’ve done something like this with anyone, let alone had this much fun doing it.” He takes a quiet breath through barely parted lips. “It’s nice.”

His ears prick with the sound of Y/N’s hummingbird heartbeat thrumming in her chest, the pattern bringing an ache to his tummy in an entirely new way, but the ache is quickly soothed by the soft smile that adorns her crimson lips.

“It’s…It’s been a while for me, as well.  Which you know.” She laughs airily, but is too entranced by the vivid color of Harry’s eyes to tear her gaze away. “I’m having fun, too.  I’m glad— I mean—”

Harry continues to rub over her knuckles patiently, keeping his touch as gentle as she is, making sure to gift her an instance to collect her thoughts.

“I’ll admit, I was… worried at first.  When we started to go on actual dates.” The mortal takes a deep breath through her nose, but it hardly calms her down as she inhales the vanilla and tobacco scent of Harry’s cologne. “We were doing so well with just sex, y’know?  And I was worried that adding more would… ruin it.”

The faint grin playing on the edge of Harry’s mouth disappears, and a chill runs through his bones at the possibility of what they have dismantling at the seams. “But it hasn’t… Has it?”

The seconds Harry spends waiting for an answer is agony, but the relief is instantaneous when Y/N replies in a bashful voice. “No.” She whispers, her gaze faltering down to her lap before raising back to him. “It hasn’t.”

“I feel like…” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, nearly forgetting to be mindful of his strength so as to not break his skin. “I feel like it’s made things better, even.  Like… like we work better together, yeah?” He clears his throat gingerly as nerves begin to dip into his dormant veins.  He knows he’s treading on dangerously thin ice, and he’s never been more at risk of plunging into the freezing depths below, but he can’t make himself return to shore.  Not now. “Not that we weren’t working well before, because we were.  We were working really well— incredibly well.  But I just feel like tacking on this little bit of extra stuff makes everything more fulfilling.”

A wry smile breaks across Y/N’s face. “Right, because who doesn’t love getting wined and dined before getting their back done in?” She jokes easily, and Harry snorts in spite of himself, grateful for how she always manages to save him from making an ass of himself.

“I just really like spending time with you, I guess.” He squeezes her hands within his own before the sincere moment disappears. “It feels natural.  Really natural.”

“It does.  And while we’re confessing our innermost confessions over garlic bread…” The mortal purses her lips as a sparkle appears in her eyes, glinting at Harry like the North Star. “I want you to know how grateful I am for what we have.  I was feeling really lonely and out of place when we met, and running into you…” Y/N hesitates for a fraction of a instant, just long enough for Harry’s own breathing to catch. “It really helped me get back on my feet.  It’s just nice to have someone who I mesh with so well, especially after such a big move and everything, so…” A new wave of heat works its way over the apples of her cheeks. “I suppose this is a bit of a ‘thank you’.  Thanks for coming up to me that night at the club.”

Harry’s lips quirk at the corners as the tender confession settles into his chest. “Thank you for letting me chat you up.  It was a two way street, love.  Although—” His signature smirk begins to make a reappearance. “It’s not like I had to try very hard— you practically drooled the second you laid your eyes on me.”

Y/N’s mouth drops open indignantly as she yanks her hands back from his, rolling her eyes heavily while smoothing the hem of her dress. “Alright, that’s enough.  Moment over, dickhead.  Go back to sipping your wine and looking hot in your suit in silence.”

Although Harry obeys her order and picks up his wine glass with nimble fingers, his eyes grow teasingly large over the rim, accent dripping with faux shock. “You think I’m hot?”

“I’d hope you know that,” Y/N says cooly as she grasps the stem of her own glass. “I don’t let just anyone choke me.”

It’s Harry’s turn to cough on his liquor as he registers the comment, and he struggles not to spill the dark liquid down the front of his brand new suit as he barks out a laugh.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he says after he swallows the drink, setting his glass back down on the table firmly. “I don’t let just anyone use my jacuzzi whenever they want.”

“Right, right, because you allowing me to use your hot tub is equivalent to me letting you wrap your fingers around my throat.” Y/N snorts, drumming her digits against the table top. “Practically identical.”

Harry snakes his hand across the table and cards their grips once more, squeezing her fingers playfully as he taps against her knuckles. “It’s not like you complain while it’s happening.”

“Only because it’s hard to talk when my air flow is restricted.”

“Really?  Because you still manage to moan just fine.”

Harry delights in the way her eyes hurriedly dash to the other diners, her heartbeat stuttering in her heaving chest.  He likes that he can still get a rise out of her with his crude jokes, even after all he’s said to her.

“Christ, Harry, lower your voice!  Don’t let anyone hear you!” Y/N protests, cupping a hand over her sizzling cheek.

“No one can hear me, love.” He chuckles lightly as he reassures her with another squeeze of her fingers. “S’why I always request a private table.”

“Oh, so you have a pattern, then?” She quirks an eyebrow at the comment. “Do you bring women here that often to discuss choking?  So much that you need a private table?”

Although there’s a mocking air to her words, Harry’s laugh cuts off. “No.  I don’t.”

Y/N hums in the back of her throat as she raises her wine glass to her lips. “I don’t believe you.  I think I’ll ask Vinzenco on our way out.  He seems like an honest man.”

Cool relief flushes through Harry’s body, but he hides it behind an incredulous gasp. “So what I’m hearing is that you’re interested in him.  Do you want Vincenzo to choke you instead?” His face breaks into a look of exaggerated disbelief tinged with fake disgust. “He’s married, you tramp!”

Y/N can’t help but laugh when Harry yanks his hand away from hers, pretending to wipe it on his napkin while gagging, as if touching her is a horrendous act. 

“I hate you.” She giggles, shaking her head slowly. 

“I promise you that no matter how much you hate me, Vincenzo’s wife would hate you tenfold.” Harry shakes out his hand before setting it back down on the table. 

“Don’t worry.” Y/N rolls her eyes at the exaggeration. “I don’t plan on breaking up a marriage tonight.”

“How gracious of you.” Harry murmurs, but he leans forward with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shamelessly canvasses Y/N’s body. “You could, you know.  Vincenzo is only a man.  Look how you had Poor Luca drooling tonight.  You in that dress…” He settles his eyes on her prominent cleavage. “Y’look like Aphrodite, almost.”

Despite the heat that flashes over Y/N’s entire body, she keeps her voice dry when she responds. “I don’t know about that; this isn’t much of a grecian look.”

“Well…” A grin creeps onto Harry’s face, igniting his jade irises with humour. “You look like Aphrodite if Aphrodite was a twenty-first century sugar baby.”

Y/N’s mouth drops open before she spits out an indignant reply. “I’m not a sugar baby!”

“Sorry, who bought you that dress?”

“That doesn’t count—”

“And who do you call ‘daddy’?”

Harry can hear the way blood rushes to her cheeks, and it sends a delicious shiver down his spine. 

Y/N, however, glares up at him through her thick lashes, her hands twisting the cloth napkin in her lap. “You’re a prick.”

“I’m simply stating facts, darling.” Harry sighs lightly, ducking one of his hands underneath the table and reaching to give her bare knee a squeeze.  He revels in the way she jumps at his touch. “And I’ve got videos of you whimpering that over and over to prove it.”

“If you keep this up,” Y/N says, forcing her voice to stay steady as she nods to his grasp on her skin. “You won’t be getting any more of them.”

“Is that so?” Harry’s hand travels further up her leg, the metal of his rings icy against the heated flesh of her inner thighs. “Guess you won’t be getting any more videos of me playing with myself either, then.  Fair’s fair.”

The whimper that falls from Y/N’s lips is so quiet that if Harry were human, he wouldn’t have been able to detect it. “Harry—” 

“You don’t like that, do you?” He taunts lowly, continuing to rub over her thigh as he leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “The idea of me taking that away? Of never seeing me lose myself for you on video ever again?”

Y/N clears her throat thickly. “N-No.”

“I didn’t think so.” With his free hand, Harry lifts his wine to his lips, taking a long sip as his darkened eyes stay locked to hers. “So you’d better behave for me then, hm?”

Despite the electrifying way her entire body is starting to fizzle, Y/N still manages to choke out an amused scoff. “You’re starting to sound like a cheap porno, H.  Be careful.”

“Careful?  You want to be careful?” Harry asks, eyebrows poised as he digs his fingertips into the meaty flesh of her thigh. “Alright.”

In one fast motion, Harry snakes his hand completely up Y/N’s dress to cup over her lace-covered cunt, running the pads of his fingers over the dampening cloth.  He hooks one finger into the side of the lace and gives a sharp yank, and although Y/N’s not sure how he does it, or how Harry attained the sudden rush of strength needed to do so, she feels the delicate fabric rip right down the center. 

Before she can even process what’s happened, the act is over as quickly as it started as Harry settles back into his seat, eyebrows cocked in a conceited fashion as he watches her assess the new issue. 

“You’ll have to be careful now, won’t you, minx?  Gonna have t’keep your legs closed like a proper good girl— which I know is hard for you whenever I’m around.” He teases, his hand still clenched under the table as the other raises his glass to his strawberry lips. “Otherwise we might have a little mishap, hm?”

Y/N’s breath stutters in her pounding chest as she clenches her thighs as tight as she can. “You didn’t.”

Raising his hand from beneath the table, Harry opens his palm for just a moment, flashing her the scrap of black lace that had once been her panties before coasting his hand beneath his jacket and tucking the article into his pocket. “Didn't I?”

“Harry!” Y/N hisses, her voice dangerously low as she leans over the table. 

“Yes?” He replies innocently, wrapping his hand firmly around his glass. “Something the matter?”

Y/N gapes at the man across from her in disbelief. “You’re such a dick, you know that?” 

“I promise you, I’m well aware.” Harry laughs lightly as he polishes off the last of his wine. “But it’s not like you don’t like it.  You wouldn’t bounce on my cock if you didn’t.”

Sucking in a harsh breath through her teeth, Y/N clenches the tight satin of her dress in her fists. “God, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Yeah?” Harry quirks an eyebrow with a cocky smirk. “Good luck trying to catch me without flashing your entire arse to the kitchen staff.”

“I swear on my life, I’m going to rip off your—” 

“Ciao, Harry! Bella donna!” Vincenzo’s voice cuts over Y/N’s thinly-veiled threat as he approaches the table with arms wide and a smile pasted onto his face. “Come trovi tutto? Possiamo portarti dell'altro vino? La carta dei dolci?” How are you finding everything?  Can we get you more wine?  The dessert menu?

“È tutto delizioso, Vincenzo, grazie.” Everything is delicious, Vincenzo, thank you. Harry drawls, his grin growing as he turns to Y/N with a condescending tilt of his head. “What do you think, tesoro?  Are you in the mood for dessert?  Or have you had enough?”

Y/N’s mouth is too dry for her to answer, especially with the way Harry’s irises twinkle suggestively at his own words, so she finishes the last dregs of her wine before shaking her head tightly. “No— no dessert for me, thanks.”

Vincenzo heaves a dramatic gasp as he turns his full attention to her. “Bella donna, what is this?  Surely you want to try our dessert?  Even just some homemade gelato?”

“Oh, no, Vincenzo, thank you, but I don’t think I could squeeze any more food into my stomach.” Y/N fights to keep herself from sounding flustered, but she knows it’s a losing battle when she hears Harry mutter something about how wonderful she is at squeezing under his breath.

Vincenzo clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, twisting his astonished gaze back to Harry. “Harry, per favore, sicuramente puoi convincere il tuo appuntamento a mangiare un boccone di dessert? È sulla casa.” Harry, please, surely you can convince your date to have a bite of dessert?  It’s on the house.

The vampire presses his tongue into his cheek as he appraises Y/N again, the clenching of her abdomen drawing his eye more than anything else. Harry uses the tip of his boot to once again trail up the back of her calf beneath the tablecloth, giving her a wicked grin. “You’re sure you don’t want anything else, tesoro?”

Y/N jerks her head once more as a shadow crosses over her eyes. “No, thank you.” She reiterates in a strained voice.

With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Harry twists to face Vincenzo again, voice surrendered. “Grazie per l'offerta, Vincenzo, ma sembra che stiamo bene. Accettiamo solo il conto, per favore.” Thank you for the offer, Vincenzo, but it looks like we’re fine.  We’ll just take the check, please.

The restaurant owner sighs in disappointment, but nods in acceptance. “Va bene, va bene, solo l'assegno. Ma la prossima volta che torni, mi amore,” Vincenzo shifts his attention back to Y/N, who meets his smile as best as she can. “Dovrai provare due dolci per compensare la mancanza di uno stasera, vero?” Okay, okay, just the check.  But next time you come back, my love, you’ll have to try two desserts to make up for the lack of one tonight, yes?

Harry leans across the table and whispers the translation low in her ear, his cool breath sending a shiver down her spine as it rolls over her body.

“Yes, Vincenzo.  Next time.” Y/N promises quickly, clasping her hands tightly around the hem of her tight dress as the thigh slit begins to ride up.

Vincenzo motions over his shoulder for Luca to bring the check, chatting happily to Harry in Italian throughout the whole transaction.  Y/N stays quiet the entire time, instinctively hiding her boiling cheeks behind her hands each time one of them casts a glance her way.  Despite the nerves wreaking havoc in her belly, Harry continues to make casual conversation as he swipes his credit card, laughing and joking with Vincenzo like he has all the time in the world.  By the time the restaurant owner bids them both goodbye, Y/N’s certain she’s sweated well through the thin fabric of her dress from her nerves.

Harry, however, looks perfectly at ease as he tucks his wallet back into his suit jacket. “You handled that well, doll.  ‘M proud of you.” He says easily, rubbing a finger down the condensation dotting his glass of ice water. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” Y/N hisses at him, clenching her thighs together as another waiter passes dangerously close to their table. “How am I supposed to walk out of here without anyone noticing?”

“Like this.” Harry rises from the table and extends a hand to Y/N, who eyes it warily from her seated position. “C’mon, love, you’re going to have to trust me.” He goads her with a sigh, wiggling his fingers until Y/N gives in and settles her palm inside his.

Making sure his own body is hiding Y/N from the line of sight of anyone else, Harry helps pull his lover from her chair before removing his jacket with one swift motion.  He settles the rich grey fabric over her bare shoulders, draping the article in such a way that it covers the deep thigh slit that exposes her bare skin. 

“How’s that?” Harry asks lowly, voice tender as he fixes the collar of the jacket around Y/N’s delicate neck. “S’that better?”

The moment Harry’s familiar and intoxicating cologne fills her senses, all the irritation evaporates from Y/N’s veins, leaving behind only the quiet thrum of attraction that’s intensified by the man’s fragrance. 

“Yeah.” She whispers, the cadence of her voice nearing shyness as Harry tugs a lock of hair from underneath the collar of the jacket. “It’s a bit better.”

“Good.” The vampire leans down and stamps his lips to the girl’s forehead, letting his mouth linger for a few seconds before straightening up. “I promise I won’t let anyone see anything.  And even if someone does see something, as long as you’re with me, nobody will say a word.”

Y/N nods gently as Harry grasps her hand in his own to lead her out of the restaurant and back to his car. “Alright.  I trust you.”

That warmth from earlier begins to spread through Harry’s chest again the moment she utters the words. “I’m glad to hear that.” He snakes his hand inside the jacket, brushing his fingertips against her breast before dipping his hand into the pocket.  When he withdraws it, the lace of her ripped panties is visible for only a moment before he tucks it into the back of his slacks with a smirk. “These are mine now. A little spoil of war for my trophy case.”

Despite his protective stance around her as he begins to weave the two of them through tables, Y/N scoffs at the action. “I still can’t believe you did that, you asshole.”

“Oh, I’m an asshole?” Harry glances over his shoulder as he quirks an eyebrow teasingly. “Alright, then.  I can just drop you back off at your apartment, if you’d like.  Go back to my place alone tonight. Gonna have to unbutton my trousers on my own, and peel this nice shirt off by myself, and crawl in between my sheets rather than in between your thighs. Such a shame.”

Y/N can’t stop the whine that echoes the back of her throat. “No, H—”

“That’s what I thought.” Harry steps back from her just enough to tug open the glass front door of the restaurant, his eyes already settling on the valet.  When he speaks, however, it’s just for her to hear, and her alone. It sends a current of anticipation through her veins as it washes across the shell of her ear, his breath smelling of sweet grapes and notes of cherry from their wine, thick with the tangy scent of liquor and cooler than usual from the chilled beverage. Despite that coldness, his next promise settles into her exposed core with a familiar heat that she knows only he can resolve.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done with you just yet. It’s gonna be a long night.”