#and I feel it really enhances my appreciation of scent! I love my perfumes and I particularly love like odd weird niche perfumes

[loveforskekgra]

I really wish I was one of those people who knew how to make like perfume oils and stuff because I spend a lot of time thinking about what a collection of perfumes themed after each Skeksis and Urru would smell like

[allisonlol]

Ah, a Jouno simp...I've always been more of a Chuuya and Fyodor simp. Having said that Jouno is fast becoming a new contender. On that note..if you get time (uni is a real time eater) could we maybe get headcanons on ideal types of woman for Chuuya, Jouno & Fyodor please

a/n: chuuya and fyodor are on TOP too! jouno was love at first sight tho <33 but i would love to do this for u!! keep in mind y'all this is my OPINIONNNN so be nice or else. felt like i was writing kunikida's list of ideals LOL

warning: fem reader

(Chuuya, Jouno, Fyodor) And Their Ideal Woman

Chuuya

i feel like he's...not really picky??

like as long as ur decently nice and somewhat confident he'd be down to get to know u

i feel like chuuya would definitely be drawn to someone who puts a lot of effort into their appearance tho. he does the same so it's not a double standard!!

^such as well-put together outfits and styling ur hair or makeup to match

this is random but i think he likes girls who wear glasses...it's fine if u don't but bonus points if u do!! especially the round frames

doesn't care about height much. but if ur taller than him don't tease him too much or he'll be insecure :(

personality wise, i think chuuya would like someone who is sweet and a little shy, but knows when to stick up for themselves? like not a pushover

someone who is soft-spoken would be a nice contrast to his hotheadedness and bring out his softer side <3

Jouno

his type is me. next

all jokes but i think jouno would like someone who is very similar to him

^you would have to have a substantial amount of things in common to get close to him in the first place, since he doesn't waste his time on anyone

i'm thinking someone who is quick to aggravate, reserved, and sarcastic

there's a lot of playful banter instead of flirting

appearance doesn’t matter much since he can't exactly see you lol. but he would like to lightly trace over ur face and such to picture what you look like

due to his enhanced sense of smell he would love someone who smells good all the time...like regularly uses lotions and perfume but doesn't over-do it (too much would give him a headache)

^has an inclination towards sweet and warm scents, like vanilla. claims the florals are "too overpowering" (although he likes cherry blossom)

i also feel like jouno would like someone with longer hair. he likes running his hands through it or playing with it :)

Fyodor

he likes anyone who will shut up and sit down to obey his order <3

i'm only partially joking here. he would need someone who will typically submit to him

^doesn't mind pushback once in awhile tho. likes the debates that come up if you question or disagree with him

fyodor would like someone who is very quiet, softspoken, and intelligent. the less friends you have, the better too!

^wants you all the himself lol. if you're very introverted, he won't have to worry about you getting close to anyone else as much (did someone say...possessive...)

does want someone who is close to his intellect but doesn't match it. he wants to be able to teach you things and feel superior

don’t bash me here BUT i think fyodor would like a woman who fits that “trad wife” stereotype. like just chills at home and does housework for him. he tends to neglect taking care of himself and his surroundings so he appreciates if you care for him in that way

i also believe fyodor would be drawn to someone who's style resembles his own. i have a very distinct image of a woman with dark hair, elegant clothing, dark makeup

another one who appreciates if you put a lot of time into your appearance

immense bonus points if you're also russian or can speak the language

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: I

“And I can't wait another minute

I can't take the look she's giving

Your body rocking, keep me up all night

One in a million, my lucky strike.”

— Lucky Strike, Maroon 5

A/N: this idea started as just random concept drabbling between leyla @sunflowervolvimp3​ and i and we never really thought it would amount to anything tbh!! but as we started putting more and more into the plot and characters, we made the spontaneous decision to make it a full on, multi-chaptered collab fic! we have so many ideas planned and so much to elaborate on and we’re just so mfing excited to share it with you guys :’) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated 💌 we hope you enjoy the first part and that you fall in love with this stupid emotionally unavailable moron the way we did! happy reading!!

andrea’s askbox : leyla’s askbox : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : 

word count: 17.2k

content/warnings: vampire!harry being a lowkey asshole while downing straight tequila like a psycho, getting to know The Crew, Mitch being the iconic legend he is, mentions of smut, and Harry working his immortal charm on an unsuspecting human girl with a peculiar scent and intriguing personality

///

Harry hates clubs. 

In his two hundred years of life, through many trials and tribulations, through tricky scenarios and annoying encounters, through thousands of unappealing circumstances and patience-testing events, he doesn’t think anything quite compares to the crowded, nerve-wracking experience that is a Los Angeles club on a Friday night during peak hours. 

According to his wise, humble opinion, it’s absolutely fucking petrifiying. He’d rather swallow a stake than have to spend hours in a dimly lit room with synthetic smoke choking his lungs, half-conscious humans stumbling around into him, and the stench of sweaty bodies mixed with liquor fumes, alongside the faint yet unmistakable waft of vomit. 

Yeah, Harry would definitely rather eat a red oak spear than have to shoulder that.

Despite his intense hatred for this Californian city during its after-hours, he can’t deny that he fits right into the scene perfectly. Decades of grooming and practice have made him a prime candidate for the fast-paced characteristics that come with the party nightlife. 

Fitting into these aspects aren’t something he had learned willingly; he didn’t really have a choice on the matter, considering his entire existence depends on mortals immature tendencies to get properly shit-faced and make stupid decisions in tightly-packed glorified bars. Harry never understood that— how a fog machine, strobe lights, and an undergrad amateur DJ could ever seem more appealing than the quiet, stable ambiance of a semi-formal bar. How deranged do people have to be to actually enjoy strangers spilling alcohol on them while attempting to shag someone else two feet away on the dance floor? 

Whenever he dwells too much on that thought, he gets a spiking migraine. After this long, Harry’s just come to terms with the fact that humans are regressing as a species. His conclusion is a bit cynical, perhaps, but hardly difficult to accept. One look at a news outlet provides enough proof to launch an Ivy League research project on the matter. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining, however, because the combination of overflowed close quarters and dampened inhibitions makes it the ideal hunting ground. Picking up a living blood bag at a club is basically as easy as walking through a vineyard and plucking grapes right off the stems. It’s practical, it’s fool-proof, and if he plays his cards right, he gets to feed and gets his more intimate needs tailored (a combo that he and his friends refer to as Laid and Drained).  

So regardless of his distaste towards clubs and their eager inhabitants, Harry had learned to mold his persona to fit the bill, making himself as approachable and desirable as possible. His life literally hangs in the balance; he’d put up with throngs of drunk sorority girls and their affinity for shitty perfumed drinks if it means avoiding desiccation. 

It’s not like it’s hard. All Harry has to do is make himself look more appealing than the other hundred men milling around the establishment, which— if he’s being brutally honest— isn’t that challenging. The moral, physical, and ethical standards of men have dropped frighteningly low since his time. Most of the ones that creep around clubs are overconfident, overzealous, boundary-lacking douchebags who think they’re entitled to a woman’s attention, and therefore make complete, utter fools of themselves in the process of trying to court one into their pants. Buying a girl one Sex On The Beach and dry-humping to Daft Punk isn’t the way to convince her to come home with you. 

Harry has developed his own guidelines and tactics for securing a nightly bedroom companion, and his ideas have been working wonders for him for decades now. 

The first and foremost rule is to clean up nicely. Personal appearance is everything. Humans are visual creatures; they build first impressions solely based on outward attraction. That trait is enhanced the higher their blood alcohol content rises. The drunker someone gets, the shallower they become, and it’s Harry’s job to work that to his advantage. And at the risk of sounding shallow himself, he thinks he does pretty alright in that department. 

Especially tonight, present in all the elements of his physique. He’s clad in a pair of high-waisted tan trousers that have been ironed to a crisp, his fitted graphic tee tucked neatly along his waistband beneath his black leather belt. His t-shirt is probably his favorite part of the entire look. It’s a baby blue sturdy cotton number with pastel yellow detailing along the cuffs and collar and a giant cartoon puppy in a striped bowtie taking up its center, smiling cheekily at the onlooker. Arranged around the doodle in faded Times New Roman bubble letters are the words WE’RE IN THE SHIT. 

Harry loves the irony of the article— the innocence of the drawing juxtaposed by the crude message. The piece is a conversation-starter— people almost always comment on it— and that’s exactly what he needs. Something to draw attention to himself and shadow all the other men. Something that shows he has a personality; that he has taste and a good sense of humor and isn’t just another walking genital. Plus, what person doesn’t enjoy a funny little contradiction, especially when it’s this cute?

On top of his graphic top, he’s wearing a tartan cropped blazer (open, of course) with a creme background and royal blue lines. The hem ends at the bottom of his ribs, exactly where his pants begin, and the jacket's hand-sewn buttons and strap detailings show that it's an expensive garment. It shows that he puts money and effort into how he looks, which is something anyone would appreciate when scoping for a possible hookup.

Harry’s shoes are the most casual factor of his fit. They’re a pair of light yellow Vans that match the collar of his tee. They’re plain, but he keeps them clean and they tie the whole look together without a hitch.

Accessories are everything, as well. Aside from the pearls arranged around his prominent collarbones, the gold-dipped cross hanging from a delicate chain around his neck, and the matching dangling cross earring on his right earlobe (again, he adores irony), he’s sporting a plethora of chunky rings on his hands, each unique and effortlessly complimenting his appearance. On his left hand, his index finger dots a ruby jewel embedded into a thick rusted band, another large metal one with dancing bears on his middle, and two clunky golden letters on his last two digits— his initials, HS. On his opposite hand, he has a medium-width plated ring on his middle finger with peace engraved along its rounded edge, an elegant lionhead number with an amethyst stone snug in its mouth, and along his pinky is a decently-sized opal set into a delicate polished frame. 

His two last rings are the most important of all. The lionhead is his daylight ring, which he hasn’t taken off since he transitioned. It keeps him from bursting into flames everytime the sun hits his skin. The opal was his mother’s, and it was her favorite. 

Harry’s attire is something he’s immensely proud of, even though a good amount of people deem him eccentric in the eyes of modern masculinity. He couldn’t give less of a shit. With his lightly tanned skin, alluring cologne and lacquered nails, his shirt stretching across the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, his broad shoulders and tapering waist, his thick thighs, sharp jaw, jade eyes, loosely tousled chestnut curls, and the vast array of dark ink littering his arms...

He looks good and he knows it. And all the people whose gazes glue to him as he passes by know it, too. Especially a random group of young women in line, who ogle at him shamelessly as he casually strolls past. He treats them to a sly wink, an irresistible dimpled smile, and a soft, cheeky greeting of, “Ladies.”

He gets off on the way they swoon at his refined English accent, giggling and waving. 

The only other component Harry has for succeeding in the club environment is simple, but it’s important: Don’t seduce, romanticize. 

Anyone— even inebriated idiots— can try and seduce a woman. And if she’s had enough tequila shots to cloud her thoughts, they just might succeed. But only a real man can romanticize a girl, and it yields way better results. 

Females are an emotional sect (Harry says that with zero misogyny; it’s just a scientific fact and he actually praises it), which means that if you entertain their interests and fluff their egos, they are bound to fall right into the palm of your hand. It changes the game completely because then they don’t feel that they have to pleasure you, they want to. They pursue the guy who flirts without being too vulgar, who appreciates and acknowledges their efforts, and who can go head-to-head with their wit by carrying unforced banter. They chase after him because he’s showing genuine kindness rather than just sexual interests and if he’s that attentive on the getting-to-know-you front, one can only imagine how skilled he could be in other bases. Chatting up a girl the right way, with patience and courtesy, builds credibility and prowess. And as a thank you, they’re usually more than willing to pay special attention to your needs, as well. 

Thus, romanticizing is always the expert move. So, yes, Harry detests clubs and the disaster that is adult recreation. But he’s fucking amazing at playing it to his favor. He’s great at calculating everything down to the smallest detail and he’s going to piggy-back on those skills for the rest of eternity. He’s so good at what he hates that his closest friends have anointed him the title of Walking Paradox. He’s more than happy to keep it. 

All of these thoughts are circulating around his skull, hyping him up for the game ahead as Harry and his friend group walk up to the bouncer at the entrance of the club they had chosen for the night, faint stars twinkling in the dark sky as the sounds and lights of the city fall away into background static. 

They cruise by the long line of people, hearing sounds of disagreement and grumbling coming from the other patrons waiting to get in. Harry casually tucks his large hands into the pockets of his light brown slacks as he pulls up in front of the burly bald man, who is wearing a black shirt with the club’s name printed in neon letters. The security guard is at least five inches taller than him, overswollen biceps and pectoral muscles rippling under the flimsy material of his work outfit as he crosses his arms over his barreled chest, cocking a single thick eyebrow at the seemingly young vampire. 

Harry delivers a good-natured smile up at the employee, despite the man’s obvious begrudging disbelief at what he is about to try and do. His friends chat quietly behind him, uninterested in what is happening; after years of being acquainted, they know that Harry is going to get exactly what he wants. He always does. 

He’s the best of them, that much is obvious. Not only when it comes to his experience with persuading sexual partners and getting himself a decent dinner, but he’s the best at convincing just about anyone to do anything, neutral of gender. He’s the second oldest of the crew, yet he seems to have the most knowledge and practice under his belt; his easygoing charisma, undeniable good looks, and dazzling smile could sway even the most stubborn of souls. Frankly, he’s so successful in getting his way that no one cares to try and argue for the leader position. Not when they can just sit back and let Harry do all the work. 

“Good evening.” Harry’s deep voice chimes giddily in the direction of the bouncer, his accent particularly heavy for no real reason. “How you doing tonight, mate?”

The guard— whose name tag reads Brock and Harry has to actively stop himself from snorting at how fitting the name is for such a brick of a human— looks down at him with a stony expression, voice flat. “I’m good.”

“Well, that’s great to hear!” The curly-haired boy’s simper widens, dimples popping into place as he skates into his next question with dramatic friendliness. “Haven’t had anyone cause you any trouble tonight, have you?”

Brock blinks once, attitude remaining coldly indifferent even in the face of Harry’s cheeriness. His words, however, are snipped and pointed. “Not yet.”

“I’m guessing you’d like to keep it that way.” The young man comments sympathetically, nodding his head along with the worker. “Totally understandable.” 

“Good.” The employee remarks in the same detached tone, shifting on his feet, obviously growing uncomfortable and irritated with the conversation. “So I’m guessing that means you know you have to get in line.” 

Harry glances over his shoulder at the lengthy expanse of people gathered along the side of the building, a light wind filtering through his freshly-shampooed ringlets as he studies the way the bright sign on top of the club casts alternating rainbow colors across the crowd. 

He makes a disapproving sound by sucking at his teeth, lulling his sight back onto the guard. “I don’t know, man. At this rate, I feel like by the time we get to the front of the line, it’ll be last call.”

“Maybe.” Brock shrugs offhandedly. “It is what it is, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry returns his gesture, but his posture shows no intention of moving, the corners of his rose lip set in a knowing smirk. “But since you’ve been having a good night, do you think you could find it in yourself to just let us through? We’d greatly appreciate it.” 

The bouncer’s face hardens, any shred of professional amiability washing out of his defined features. “I don’t think so.” 

The vampire’s shoulders sag in exaggerated disappointment. “Are you sure? It’s just five of us. Don’t think we’ll do much damage. Right, guys?”

Harry glimpses over his back to his friends, who let their conversation falter for a moment to throw out a chorus of half-assed agreements, trying to keep themselves from snickering. 

“We promise we won’t cause any problems.” Xander speaks up, jutting his chin encouragingly at the man as his lips twitch slyly. He lifts one of his hands, the smallest finger sticking out stiffly and wiggling around. “Pinky swear.” 

The rest of the group bursts into a round of light laughter, causing Harry to release a few airy giggles of his own.  

Xander looks over at Niall, raising his eyebrows and quipping in an innocent manner. “Right, Ni? No funny business tonight. That means no climbing onto the bar again and stripping down to your socks.” 

“That happened one time!” Niall exclaims incredulously, socking the taller boy in the shoulder as the others laugh harder than before, his blue eyes narrowed and face pinched. “Once! And it was only ‘cause Harry challenged me to a tequila shot contest.”

The Irish vampire’s accented voice drops darkly as he reminisces. “Fuckin’ hate tequila. Makes me act like a moron.” 

“As if you’re not one already.” Mitch pipes up in his usual soft dialect, chuckling as he ducks away from Niall’s vengeful fist. 

Harry cranes back to face Brock, thumb playing with his daylight ring as his hands stay relaxed inside his trousers. He shrugs one shoulder easily for emphasis. “See? You can let us through. We pinky swore.” 

The entire charade seems to have only infuriated the security guard more than before, his brows now fully furrowed and a deep, unamused frown etched across his previously pursed lips. His voice is on edge with barely controlled anger. “I’m not putting up with any shit. If you want in, go to the back of the line. If not, leave.”

Harry sighs grandly in defeat, head shaking slightly. “Guess I’ll just have to go the other route, then.”

The creature takes a step forward towards the employee, close enough that their chests almost press together. The bulky man stands his ground, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes at seeing the smaller boy make such a bold move. 

“What the f—?”

Harry locks gazes with Brock, pupils dilating to twice their size, the usual emerald shade of his irises flickering a haunting red and looking sinister in the buttery light of the street lamps. Horror breaks across the worker’s face, the ability to form coherent sentences disappearing from his demeanor. Harry’s heightened senses can hear the way his heartbeat spikes, blood instinctively rushing into his chest as a response to the adrenaline materializing in his veins. The activation of human’s fight-or-flight modes is always so oddly pleasurable. Just feeling how they react so drastically makes Harry’s fangs tingle with longing. Fear is a good condiment, he’s learned; it gives blood’s usual metallic flavor a certain twang.

But at the moment, a beverage from this specific tap isn’t the one Harry has in mind. He has his interests set on something much tangier and full-bodied; maybe Casamigos golden tequila, or Don Julio's Blanco. Preferably mixed with a young office secretary or a Bath and Body Works employee instead of lemon and salt. 

All in all, Brock is just collateral for a much bigger prize, which lies behind the roped off area he holds dominion over. It’s Harry’s job to break that dam. 

Before the large man can fully react, the vampire begins working his compulsion strategy, tone coming out level and soothing, thick with persuasion and teetering along a sleepy undercurrent. “You’re going to let us through, and you’re going to forget we ever met.”

The guard’s pupils enlarge to match Harry’s, the look of utter terror on his face melting right off. His features go slack as the monster’s magical influence works its way through his brain, coating every neuron and bending him to the deliverer’s will. The man reaches over and removes the velvet rope blocking the group’s path, stepping off to the side obediently with an empty expression present across his appearance. 

The leader of the group smiles just as brightly as he had the second he’d walked up to the door. He passes by the worker, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder and feeling the muscular man strain under his supernatural strength. “Thank you very much. You have a nice night, Brock.” 

Harry’s friends follow behind him, echoing his parting message and sharing a collective chortle.  

The second the group dives past the frame of the club entrance, the whole ambiance of the atmosphere changes. Harry walks across the top ledge of the establishment, coming to a halt at the railing that overlooks the main level of the club, his inhumanly sharp eyes bouncing around all the corners of the building to construct some type of familiar layout in his head. Amidst the blinking lights, thick artificial smoke, and swaying bodies, his keen instincts sketch a mental image for tonight’s hunting ground. 

The bar is at the far left corner of the club, squared off and taking up a large chunk of the colorful tiled dance floor. The music station extends across the entire wall at the opposite end of the tavern, stocked with massive speakers and a professional turntable. Harry’s brows jump in mild surprise— it’s not every day that a club puts so much effort into their mixer. 

The animated dancing area is packed with people, the crowd all jumping and grinding to the beat of the bass, moving as one large mass while the rotating strobe lights hang from the cavernous ceiling, bathing their moving silhouettes in neon reds, drunken blues, groggy purples, and electric yellows. The dim surroundings and heavy fog make all the hues more intense, giving the endless party that timeless quality which people tend to enjoy about nightlife. It’s the night to remember effect that movies and shows always hyperbolize; he thinks this way because he’s well aware that not even a third of these people are sober enough to know what the fuck they’re doing, let alone recall it the following day. It’s comically ironic, really. 

But Harry profits off that liquor amnesia, so he brushes away his sardonic skepticism for the time being, settling his lean forearms onto the metal railing that lines the second story of the venue, which is meant to keep shit-faced customers from creating a messy lawsuit. He carefully absorbs the grandeur of it all, leaning his weight forward with a detached sigh, already flickering through the mental menu of his favorite drinks that he has expertly memorized. 

He’s in the process of choosing between a Manhattan— it isn’t a very complicated drink, which is exactly what he’s looking for; something simple and strong— or just straight tequila in a glass when he suddenly feels a familiar presence arrange itself beside him, bumping his shoulder playfully with their own.

Harry snaps out of his recipe retrieval, eyes casting to the side to land on his best friend of almost a century. He cocks an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the thin, bearded man to make the first move towards conversation.

“You’re a real dick, y’know that?” 

The green-eyed vampire sputters into spontaneous laughter, the edges of his eyes crinkling as the small pits in his cheeks jolt awake. His tone is humorous and full of fake insult for the hell of the joke. “Wow, alright. So I get us into the club that you chose and that makes me a prick? Good to know. You can handle the muscle next time, then, if you’re gonna talk shit.”

Mitch cracks a gentle jesting grin, which is very on brand for him. He doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. He’s quiet, reserved, and hardly engages with anyone outside of their immediate group. He’s always been that way for as long as Harry could remember. 

When they had met back in 1924 at a speakeasy in New York, Mitch had given off a mysterious vibe that Harry had found amusing and intriguing. His slightly sickly appearance and distant persona made the younger vampire want to get to know him better; it was just so peculiar that this seemingly impassive man was working at an illegal bar as a live musician. One would think that a performer would have to display an engaging character to keep a loyal audience, but Mitch had been all the talk of the underground despite his unemotional coolness. It was startlingly unorthodox and Harry just had to know more. 

Therefore, with a bit of help from his convincing supernatural abilities, he’d secured a spot as the black market club’s leading vocalist. He wasn’t anything worth a Grammy, but he could keep his singing in tune and follow Mitch’s guitar rhythms easily enough, all thanks to his limited experience with piano. He fit right in. 

From the first show they had put on together, it was like they had known one another in a different lifetime. They clicked so flawlessly it was almost fictional. 

Harry was lively and charming on stage, working the crowd to his favor as easily as he could knock back a shot, wrapping every single patron around his jeweled pinky without breaking a sweat. His witty temperament countered Mitch’s timid disposition perfectly and that uncommon dynamic had been the foundation to their friendship. Their humorous shenanigans on stage (which included Harry pinching at Mitch’s ass and making vague vulgar motions at each other while harmonizing) was a hit within the drunken community, and it bled into their personal lives. They went from only interacting on stage to sharing drinks together afterwards, to hanging out outside of work, to deep late night conversations about the world and their experiences.

Soon enough, they were closer than either had expected to become. And once they found out each other’s true identities (Mitch had transitioned during the American Revolution, when a vampire in his battalion had given him blood to heal from a wound, unaware that the next day, Mitch would suffer a fatal gunshot to the stomach that would trigger his transformation) they grew inseparable. They had remained that way ever since. 

Despite his friend’s withdrawn tendencies, the older vampire never hesitates to make his opinions heard, obvious in how he’d just full-bodied Harry with that snarky comment. Even when it’s at his expense, Harry appreciates and respects the rawness of it. He loves the way Mitch is honest and straight-forward with everything that crosses his path— it’s one of his favorite traits about him and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him his best friend. He’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that position.   

Due to this, Harry rarely takes genuine offense in Mitch’s digs. They’re normally expressed as a joke and they’ve both been alive for so long that thick skin is a default.

“How was I dick?” Harry inquires, slinking his head to the side with entertained curiosity. “If anything, he was the one being an asshole. I asked him to let us in nicely and he practically spit in my face!”

Mitch snorts in amusement, shaking his head lightly as his eyes streak across the humongous room in the same cunning manner Harry’s had. “You and Xander didn’t have to mock him that way.” 

That’s another thing that makes Mitch the better half of their power duo— he still has a decent shred of humanity in his unbeating heart. Pessimistic conclusions aside, Harry does have a bit, as well...but his is more like a paper-thin pencil shaving than a shred. Barely there, but there, at least. 

The young man returns his companion’s snort, rolling his eyes up to the hanging lights over their heads. “Was just some harmless teasing. Nothing bad came of it.”

Mitch scowls scoldingly. “It was unnecessary and mean.”

Harry mimics his expression with his nose scrunched sarcastically. “We were just taking the piss, and it’s not like he’s gonna remember it anyways. Stop being such a kill-joy.” 

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” 

“Or what?” Harry tilts his chin up challengingly, the amber specks around his pupils glinting tauntingly, faint black veins momentarily webbing across the whites of his eyes. He sweetens his voice into a honeyed drawl. “Are you gonna spank me, daddy? Have I been a bad boy?” 

Mitch belts out a feathery chuckle, shoving his friend with enough strength to send a regular human flying across the deck. But since the taller vampire matches his force, he hardly moves an inch. “Fuck off.” 

“I’m being serious!” Harry cackles, turning his hips and sticking out his ass towards his visibly disgusted acquaintance. “Go fucking in, if you want.”

He lowers his voice into a sultry hum, wagging his backside jestingly. “I like it rough, baby. Why don’t you bend me over this railing and show me who’s boss?”

It’s Mitch’s turn to roll his eyes to the ceiling, voice deadpan. “I think I’ll pass.” 

Harry juts his lower lip into a theatrical pout, sniffling faux tears. “You’re rejecting me that quick? Who’s the asshole now, huh?”

His best friend doesn’t even blink. “Still you.”

“I can live with that. And it’s probably a good call on your end to give up all this,” he signals vaguely up and down his tight torso with a ringed hand, grinning as he watches the veteran vampire pretend to gag, “because I don’t think Sarah wouldn’t be too happy about it.” 

Mitch’s humorous face immediately drops, eyes narrowing at the change in topic. “Very funny.” 

“I know, right? I’m a proper comedian.” Harry quips proudly, batting his lashes mockingly. “Where is Sarah, anyways? Have you heard from her lately?” 

Sarah and Mitch...They’re a complex couple, if they can even be called a couple. The two are more like occasional friends with benefits, “occasional” meaning “once every couple of months, if Sarah happens to be passing by.” 

Their relationship is open and very loose, mostly due to the fact that Sarah is fairly new to the world of blood-driven immortality and has decided to take full advantage of it. She’s been using compulsion to travel the world for the last three years since she changed, which had been the result of an unfortunate car accident. 

Mitch had been seeing her casually beforehand, keeping her around for the purpose of having a conventional feeding arrangement. Every time vampires feed, they heal the wounds they inflict with a bit of their blood, proceeding to then wipe the person’s memory with compulsion in order to eradicate any chances of getting caught. The caveat is that if a human dies with vampire blood in their system, they become one. 

Sarah’s death happened the day after she’d spent a night with Mitch, and one can imagine how distressed she had been when she'd awoken atop a metal table in a morgue within the basement of a hospital. Mitch had been there from the very first second she’d opened her eyes to her new life. Or rather, her dead life. He had helped her get accustomed to the next stage (meaning having to cut family ties in order to avoid a catastrophe— the less people that know the truth about the supernatural, the better) coaxing her through transition and teaching her the way to go about the rest of eternity without putting herself and others in danger. 

Vampires rarely have any compassion for life (usually out of spite, which stems from how their own lives were taken from them), so it’s not uncommon that bodies are found drained of blood in back alleys, abandoned warehouses, and washed up on banks of oceans and rivers. It could be either of two reasons, or even both: the monster doesn’t care about the consequences of their actions, or they never learned to control their urges. 

Harry’s crew isn't that careless. Through Mitch, they had learned restraint, taking up his practice of feeding enough to satisfy themselves without killing the host, healing them, and then erasing the occurrence from their memories. Mitch had come up with the tactic to cling to his humanity— to be as kind and nondestructive as possible— but if Harry’s being honest, most of their friends only play along because it’s convenient. No bodies means no police involvement, and no police involvement means being able to settle down in one place for an extended period, not having to stress about the annoying process of bouncing around the world for the rest of their lives to avoid detection. 

Keeping low was for the best, and when things get rough— whether it be a mistake on their part or a disastrous bender caused by another vampire passing through— they resort to drinking from blood bags until things tide over. Mitch has a contact at the nearest hospital, which is how he gets access to the stock, as well as how he managed to clean up Sarah’s passing so quickly. 

All in all, Harry had only mentioned Sarah to tease his friend, knowing the slight sensitivity that comes with the subject. Vampires rarely form emotional bonds, typically because it can get really messy, really fast, whether that connection be to a mortal or to another creature of their species. All of them have baggage of some sort— you can’t die, resurrect, be forced to abandon your family, and be a slave to drinking blood for the rest of eternity and just...be normal. That type of extreme emotional turmoil is corrosive towards love. It’s always better to just avoid it all together. 

That’s why this is so habitual to joke about; it’s a way to deflect. 

Mitch sighs grandly, Harry’s question echoing in his skull. “I don’t know where she is, to be honest. Last we talked was, like, four weeks ago, I think. She was in Japan, said she was drumming for a new upcoming band. Haven’t heard from her since.”

Harry nods his head once in understanding, itching to steer the theme of their conversation elsewhere now that he knows the topic is in a more sensitive state than he’d imagined. He doesn’t want to push Mitch into a depressive episode when they’re supposed to be having a good time. Spending the night consoling his sulky friend in the bathroom of a club is the last thing he wants right now. 

“I guess that makes Sarah the asshole, then.” He pokes jokingly, bumping the older vampire’s hip with his own. “She’s ghosting you. Get it? It’s funny ‘cause she’s actually dead.” 

Mitch’s sad expression shatters like glass, replaced by one of unamused secondhand embarrassment at the shitty pun. “I fucking hate you.”

“All the people who were ahead of their time were hated.” Harry sing-songs, turning up his nose haughtily. “Copernicus, Socrates, Einstein— all of them were hated for being geniuses. I’m willing to carry that same burden.” 

Mitch blinks at him three times. “No one hated Einstein.”

The curly-haired boy’s lips twitch darkly. “I’m pretty sure Japan did.” 

“You’re going to hell.” 

“I’m already there, mate.” 

Mitch shakes his head, but even through the black lights, Harry can see him trying to ward off a laugh. After a moment’s pause, he speaks up again softly. “It’s not that hard to refrain from humiliating innocent people who are just doing their job, H.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re still on that?” The broad monster groans in exasperation, palms slapping down on the metal rungs below him. “We were just having some fun! But fine. If it helps you fake sleep at night, I’ll try and keep my condescending flare to a minimum.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Mitch responds peacefully, tapping his nimble fingers casually along the railing, his action much less violent than his companion’s. “S’not too difficult.” 

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs, returning his intent gaze to the dance floor, scoping out the scene once again in hopes of finding a proper meal for the night. 

He zones in on a group of young women gathered along one side of the bar, their messy giggling and lack of balance giving away that they’re obviously sloshed off their faces. Seems promising enough. 

When he talks once more, his tone holds an attitude that plays on a grumble, but it’s somewhat distracted. “The least you could do is let me have some fun, considering I didn’t even want to come.” 

Mitch huffs, making an entertained noise in the back of his throat. “You say that every single time we go out, and yet you always end up taking someone home. Don’t know why you’re complaining.” 

Harry side-eyes him from his peripheral vision, the corners of his pretty cherry mouth dipping down grudgingly, mood defensive. “You drag me to these things so I’m not going to apologize for making the best of it. I put a lot of effort into my pick-ups! I deserve to get my dick wet.” 

“God, please don’t say that again.” His best mate physically makes a vomiting sound. “You’re acting like a spoiled fraternity douche.” 

Harry’s gaze ignites into flames, his back straightening out as he fully turns to face the shorter man. He’s never been insulted so low before. “Take that back!” 

“Take that back!” Mitch mocks in an exaggerated, high-pitched British accent, attempting to stifle giggles. 

“Take it back! You know how much I hate Gen Z.”

“Okay, boomer.” 

“You’re older than I am!” 

“I know. Your lack of maturity is a constant reminder.”

Harry opens his mouth, prepared to make a sharp comeback about how Mitch should have left the shaggy-haired stoner aesthetic back in the eighties, but then a heavy Irish accent interrupts his rebuttal. 

“What’s all this about getting your dick wet?” 

Both of the vampires turn towards Niall, finding Xander and Adam accompanying him in a loose semi-circle. 

Xander isn’t paying any attention, too busy tapping away at the screen of his smartphone, apparently engaged in a very riveting conversation with whoever is on the other side. Adam has his hands tucked into the pockets of his plum purple wind-breaker, looking over Harry’s shoulder, seeming to be adamantly searching for someone in particular amidst the mob on the level beneath them. Niall is the only one interested in their dying conversation, probably only because he heard something crude being mentioned. 

“It’s nothing.” Harry dismisses, but he can’t help but stick Mitch with a glare. “What’s the plan for tonight, then?”

Adam speaks up for the first time. “Charlotte and Ny texted saying they got here about ten minutes ago. Mentioned they were dancing near the DJ station, so I think I’ll go find them.”

“Sounds good.” Harry bobs his head in accordance. “We’ll see you out there, yeah?” 

Adam returns his action, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. The leader of the group watches him trot onto the large spiral staircase, disappearing into the thick throng of people scattered across its wide steps. 

Harry shifts his attention to Xander, snapping his fingers a few times in his direction and giving a two-toned whistle. “What about you? What’s got your head?”

“Not what, who.” Niall teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and making kissy faces at their friend. 

Xander ignores him, glancing up at the green-eyed brunette to let him know he’ll be with him in a second, returning his focus back to his iPhone. After a few more elongated moments of typing, the older man finally locks his device. 

“I have a date.” He throws out casually, almost as if it should be obvious. 

“A date?” Harry reiterates slowly, not quite buying it. Xander doesn’t date. He couch-surfs just as much as Harry does. 

“Mmhm.” Xander glimpses behind his fellow vampire, eyes carrying intention. “It’s just a random dude from Tinder. I thought it’d be easier to set something up beforehand, just so I don’t have to spend the whole night trying to figure out if a guy is making eyes at me or trying to keep his whiskey down.” 

“Smart.” Harry shrugs his sculpted brows, impressed. A cocky grin toys with the corners of his mouth. “But we both know no one will ever compare to me.” 

“Right.” Xander scoffs in a deadpan manner, gifting him a tight, aggravated smile. “If only you weren’t such an emotionally unavailable prick.” 

“Oh, like you’re mentally stable enough for a relationship?” Harry bites back, but it holds no true malice, just some petty rivalry. “Piss off.”

“Happily!” The other vampire exclaims, clasping his hands together for dramatics. “Have fun finding someone out there. I’m just gonna grab a to-go box for my already prepped meal.” 

Harry doesn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, he turns to Niall, pointing at him to symbolize it's his turn to share his plans for the night. “What have you got, Lucky Charms?” 

His friend breaks into a jolly cackle at the nickname, arms falling crossed over his chest, hands absentmindedly squeezing his elbows in thought. “Well, I dunno, Tea and Crumpets. What’s your game plan?” 

Before Harry can answer, Mitch butts in, feeling left out of the banter and somewhat hurt that no one had assigned him an alter ego. “What’s my country-derived nickname?” 

Niall gives the American a slow once-over, shifting in his dark brown Clarks boots, fitted navy slack riding up his thighs and allowing his rainbow polka-dot socks to peek out. He hums lowly in the back of his throat, a grin spreading across his rosy cheeks. “Biscuits and Gravy.” 

Harry chimes in, his own arms casually folding over his strong chest, index finger tapping on his bottom lip as if mulling something over. “I quite like We The People, actually.”

The Irish lad snaps his fingers as if having a sudden epiphany. “Uncle Sam!”

Harry’s emerald eyes twinkle with glee at seeing the way Mitch’s go half-lidded, no longer entertained. “Four Score And Seven Years Ago.” 

“Okay, I think that’s enou—”

Niall wags a finger at Harry, lifting one shoulder in question, seeking approval on his next idea. “Star Spangled Banner?”

Harry copies the boy’s motion from before, snapping his fingers and making jazz hands. “I Pledge Allegiance.”  

“Ok, I get it!” Mitch whines with annoyed finality, pushing off the metal railing with a curt grimace on his scraggly face. 

“You asked!” Niall rationalizes between hiccups of evilly delighted joy, cupping his stomach as if to keep it from splitting open. 

“Won’t make that mistake again.” The older creature grumbles, leaning his back against the rungs and looking off towards the distance, communicating that he’s done being a part of the conversation. 

Once Harry manages to reign in his giggles, he rubs at his nose with the side of his finger, releasing a wistful sigh. He refers to the question Niall had stated before their little bullying fest. “I think I’m just gonna do what I always do— sway a nice, pretty girl into doing some not-so-nice but very pretty things.” 

“Solid.” The Irish bloke remarks, toying with the plastic buttons on his silk beige top. “Not much to do other than that, to be fair. Adam’s usually my wingman, but I guess he abandoned me for a girl’s night.” 

“Mitch is mine, and he knows better than to dip on me.” Harry roughly nudges his best friend with his elbow, dodging to the side when Mitch tries to hit him in return. 

Niall hums softly in amusement. “Maybe I should make Adam sign whatever contract you drafted for that poor bugger.” 

The curly brunette snorts. “Good luck. Adam’s as stubborn as they come. But, hey, if you can’t find anyone, just come to me.” Harry’s irises flit crimson for a millisecond, an ominous smirk buckling his features. “You know I’m always happy to share.” 

“Thanks,” his friend exhales flatly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If you’re taking tips,” Mitch pipes up, vaguely signaling at Niall’s shirt with his chin, “maybe don’t wear that stupid shirt next time. The elephant doodles look ridiculous.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not taking fashion tips from anyone who actually enjoyed living in Ohio, then.” Niall snaps in an exaggerated American accent, middle finger jutting towards the other man. “The only thing you know how to dress is a cornfield scarecrow. Must be why you look like one.” 

Harry forces down more laughter, clearing his throat softly. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t get hammered— girls hate that.” 

“Note taken.” The pale boy runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it up and adding texture to appear more laid-back and rugged. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later.” The younger vampire recites, giving a big thumbs-up. 

“Good luck out there. You, too, Boston Tea Party.” 

With that, Niall saunters away, leaving a fully laughing Harry and a grouchy Mitch in his wake. 

The two acquaintances decide to follow in everyone else’s example, descending down the looped staircase and chatting about Mitch’s latest gig at a new bar downtown. 

Harry praises Mitch's talent with his guitar, specifically the fact that he found a hobby which he enjoys so much that he’s willing to keep it as a permanent part of his life. It’s easy to get bored of things when you have hundreds of years ahead of you; everything can seem pointless, in the end. But Harry doesn’t think Mitch has ever let himself fall into those types of dark headspaces and he finds that extremely admirable. 

Harry wishes he could say the same. He’s no musical prodigy, that much is obvious, but he is an expert at playing a few specific French songs on the piano by memory. He rarely does it, though; only when he’s in a low state of mind, which— given the origin of how he learned said classical pieces— isn’t something he’s proud of. They’re tied to a very gruesome part of his past that he’d rather bury deep inside, but he can only push back his troubles for so long before they begin to leak out, staining the clean sheet of recovery he had sewn into place. Those arrangements just bring him a warped sense of comfort he can’t explain.

Even though he’s aware of the destructive aspects of the songs, he finds himself humming one now out of instinct as he elbows through squished bodies and flailing limbs. The second he notices he’s doing it, he cuts it off, focusing all his intention on making it to the other side of the room to the bar. It’s a hard trip when it feels like the walls of the building are closing in on him. 

When Harry finally breaks free from the Human Centipede re-enactment that is the club dance floor, he practically collapses onto the sleek glass counter. Death was less painful than that walk. 

He cranes his neck to the side wildly, suddenly remembering that his much smaller, much skinnier, much more crushable friend had been in tow behind him. To his utter shock, he watches as Mitch calmly weeds around grinding drunk couples with the poise and grace of a swan, filling the empty spot besides him without a single ailment in the world. 

Harry blinks at him blankly in silence, almost as if he’d grown an extra set of fangs. 

Mitch flags the bartender from all the way down the counter, not bothering to meet the green eyes peering at him in disbelief. “You’re so fucking dramatic, H.”

“How did you not die? Again?” Harry sputters, sight jutting all around the older vampire’s body, looking for any battle wounds or missing appendages. “I almost lost an arm in there!”

“It’s a good thing it wasn’t your favorite one, right?” Mitch smirks at his own lewd joke, the simper molding into one of genuine kindness when the mixologist slides up in front of them. “Hi, how are you? I’m good, as well, thank you for asking! Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Don’t worry, I’m not one of the ‘just make me something sweet’ type of assholes.”

Harry zones out the rest of the friendly chat Mitch entertains with the employee, letting his gaze wander around the large auditorium-like room. He dances his vision over the DJ remixing music on top of the stage, head beginning to bop along to the beat that is currently shaking the seven foot tall speakers. He’s pleasantly surprised at how good this specific producer is. 

He continues scoping out the rest of the venue, taking notes of the different clusters of people that seem to hold promise for the plans he has in store later tonight. A small group of hippie friends here, a two-party duo of tipsy stoners there, and a clump of college students at the edge of the ruckus, stumbling around loudly. Things are looking somewhat decent, in his opinion. The hippies seem to be catching his attention more than the others— specifically, the one that looks similar to Stevie Nicks. That’s a fantasy that’s been waiting to be fulfill for decades now. 

Harry lulls his head forward again when he feels Mitch give a squeeze at his elbow, telling him that the bartender is waiting to take his order. He decides to go for the gold tequila, asking for it straight in a highball glass without any garnishes. The worker’s eyebrows jump up slightly at the unorthodox request, but he drops a polite, “Coming right up.” either way.

“You truly have no flavor.” Mitch tuts once their waiter has stepped away to prepare their drinks. “No taste buds whatsoever.” 

“Yeah? Well, you can suck my flavorless dick.” Harry chimes brightly, eyes crinkling shut as a result of a theatrical smile. 

The younger vampire goes to turn back around, legitimately interested in the girl he’d seen that looked like one of his seventies celebrity crushes, already running through scenarios in his head on how he’d get her into his bed for tonight. Weed and ABBA are probably good conversation starters for that, if Harry’s undisputed people skills have anything to say about it. 

As he’s rotating his torso, a blurred image catches his eyes. He does a double-take, honing in on a group of girls that look faintly familiar. He scans them carefully as they huddle around the corner of the bar area, laughing and toasting along to the multiple conversations they all have going at once. They look like the typical posse that would be a backdrop clique in a mainstream movie. 

He knows where he recognizes them from— it had been the same girls he’d spotted earlier up on the second deck.

Harry expertly surveillances each woman, picking out potential candidates as easily as he’d pinch petals off a flower. The one in the center of the group is obviously the leader, present in how she’s the prettiest and is somehow managing to juggle all of these interactions at once. It means she’s used to being the center of attention— probably strives under it. He throws her out as a potential; the last thing he needs is someone who everyone knows and seeks out. He wouldn’t be able to sneak away with her quietly. 

The rest of the girl crew all seem to be the same status-wise, appearing as supporting characters to the main one in the middle. He could choose any one of them blindly and it wouldn’t make a difference. They all seem so tight-knit, they probably share personalities, at this point. It’s like dipping his hand into a jar of jelly beans and they’re all the same flavor. That notion makes him laugh to himself a bit; maybe Mitch was right about his lack of taste. 

Then, Harry spots her, and all the other women immediately go up in smoke. 

It’s hard not to spot her. She sticks out like a sore thumb, but not in a good way. 

The prospective contender is off to the side, sitting atop a barstool with her feet tucked along the footrest, tapping them against the metal rung awkwardly. She’s talking to one of the other people in the group, but the interaction seems forced and not very satisfying, obvious in both of their faces. She’s tracing her middle finger around the edge of her glass cup distractedly, the contents inside barely touched, the ice in her drink long-melted. She seems disinterested in the chaos her friends are causing, her expression bored and borderline regretful, as if she doesn’t want to be here. 

The further he sizes the girl up, the more appropriate she looks for the role he needs filled. Since barely anyone is paying attention to her, that means he can lead her astray without too much resistance from her acquaintances, if any at all. She appears somewhat unimportant to the narrative— merely a background extra— and it makes him wonder what she’s doing with this clique of women that can’t seem to be bothered by her presence. It’s sad, really. Sad, but beneficial, because that means he can succeed in making her the supporting protagonist of his narrative, at least for tonight. 

The girl is attractive, but not anything astronomical. She’s unconventionally pretty in a way that makes her relevant, but not particularly distinct in the eyes of regular men with presumptuous standards. She’s easy to pass up, and if Harry hadn’t been actively pursuing someone of her bashful persona to card into his plans, he wouldn’t have noticed her. At the risk of once again sounding shallow, Harry’s aware that— physically speaking— he’s very much out of her league. His above-average appearance gives off the vibe that he’d fit better with the leader of the group instead of with her, but he doesn’t want someone that would raise suspicions as a result of their absence. This girl, sitting along the edge of the party with barely any purpose and no one to really question her whereabouts, is exactly what he’s looking for. She’s perfectly imperfect for the cause. 

Harry continues to examine her meticulously, analyzing other traits that can give him a better feel for her character. She’s clad in a pair of high-waisted pastel pink silk pants that stop right at her ankles, accompanied by a flouncy creme lace blouse tucked into her waist. Tan wedges, no accessories, delicate rosey nail polish, and minimalist makeup. The boldest thing about her is the brick red shade of her lipstick, which is easily shadowed by the sparkly sequin dresses, five inch heels, and layered tops her friends are wearing. 

Harry likes her outfit, though. It’s concise and safe, which he can appreciate. Yes, perhaps she looks like she belongs in a dentist’s office rather than a Los Angeles nightclub, but he thinks there’s beauty in simplicity. She looks cute, and that’s good enough for him. 

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice snaps him out of his detail-hungry haze, drawing him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass. 

His friend slides his tall drink across the glass counter, the amber liquid inside warping his reflection. 

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while accepting the cup, ringed fingers clinking against the crystalline surface. 

He takes a leisurely sip from the straight tequila, its tangy kick sending a warm surge up through his ears and down his throat, spreading into his chest and along the trench of his tummy. Alcohol really is the cure to everything. 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, the strobe lights alternating across the glossy surface of his hazel irises, highlighting smugness. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.” 

The curly-haired vampire flashes him a light smirk over the rim of his drink, absentmindedly tapping his two initial rings along the bottom of the highball cup. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?”

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality.  

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and definitely not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate business. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for. 

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older monster remarks sarcastically, bumping his bottle against Harry’s glass in encouragement, using the spout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

“But, darlinggggg,” Harry whines playfully, a smirk still tugging at the corners of his slightly liquor-swollen lips. “I made dinner last night. Isn’t it your turn?”

Mitch rolls his eyes and shoves Harry’s shoulder harshly, with just enough force that it actually has some type of impact this time around. “Just go, before she gets creeped out by your staring.” 

Harry’s own irises copy his friend’s actions as he pushes himself up from the bar, rubbing at the new sore spot on his shoulder with an exaggerated pout present. “Ow.”

Mitch blinks at him flatly, fighting off a grin. “You’ve had worse. Go.”

Harry swivels on his heel, once again facing the group of tipsy girls at the other end of the counter. It appears that most of them have dispersed into the dance floor, having found partners to entertain them for the time being, moving to the music as if there are no other people in the room. They had left behind three of their companions, one of which is Harry’s aspiring hookup; he gets the feeling that the two girls had stayed behind out of the kindness of their hearts, feeling too guilty to leave the runt of the litter all on her own. He hopes that’s the case because if so, the second Harry inserts himself into the situation, they’ll take that chance and split, leaving him to tend his meal in peace.

He tucks one large hand into the front pocket of his trousers, the grip on his glass tightening a smidge, rings biting into his skin as the condensation of the chilled tequila cools the small spike of pain. He spins his lionhead ring around his finger within his slacks, gradually drifting closer as he goes through a checklist of prized pick-up lines he could use to garner her attention. He ducks and dodges inebriated club-goers with ease now that he’s had something to take the edge off, finally reaching the end of the bar, slowly coming to a halt right behind his target for the night. 

Harry nearly passes out as soon as her scent hits him. 

It’s faint and tender and nothing quite like anything he’s encountered before, a mixture of honey and lavender that permeates through her normal perfume. He feels like his head’s been put through a wringer, his whole body clenching for a moment as raging sparks erupt across the pit of his belly. He indulges a deep breath, willing the blazing current away in order to keep his cool, but all he can see flashing before his eyes are images of her leaving traces of that smell smeared all over his face as he bobs his head between her quivering thighs.

He takes another penetrating inhale, centering his mind back into the present. He needs to behave.

Her friends spot him immediately, their side of the conversation faltering to ash. They give Harry a wide-eyed once-over, mouths parting in slight shock as they drink up his attractive appearance, gazes lingering along his thick chest as it strains the baby blue material of his tee. Their sights drag across his broad shoulders, dainty collarbones, and strong neck, faces gawking without remorse, blinking emptily at the slope of his sharp jaw and the peaks of his prominent cheekbones. They seem to be at a loss for words the second his dimples indent into place, his brows shrugging in a half-assed greeting before he cocks his head to side a tad, voice velvet as it directs towards the girl they had forgotten existed.  

“I’m guessing you’re the designated driver?”

Y/N jumps slightly in response at the new addition to the painfully dying conversation, not recognizing the heavy English accent and deep baritone that booms behind her. She had been wondering why Melissa and Isabel had stopped talking so abruptly, and she now has her answer. 

Y/N slowly goes to cast a curious glance over her shoulder and Harry can hear the pulse flaring in her neck from the sudden intrusion to her surroundings. His fangs prick along the inside of his bottom lip due to carnal instincts; he has to will them back into receding. 

 When her eyes land on the owner of the random words, her finger immediately halts its swirling motions along the hem of her glass.

‘Fuck.’ is the only thought that registers through her short-circuiting mind. 

The lanky, curly-haired brunette that stands before her gives a gentle yet confident smile, the gesture dazzling even in the low lighting of the atmosphere. He’s absolutely gorgeous, with deep pits carving into his cheeks, perfect teeth complimenting full cherry red lips, eyes the color of a rainforest canopy, and a broad frame that is somehow not overwhelming. He’s sporting neatly ironed tan slacks, a fitted cotton shirt with a cute yet crude graphic at its center, a fancy plaid coat, and crisp yellow Vans without a single smudge in sight.

Y/N can’t help but take notice of all the little details of his fit, especially the accessories. A beautiful pearl necklace laid along his delicate clavicle, a cross resting between his defined pectorals, and a matching earring dangling from his earlobe. Not to mention the array of clunky rings arranged along nimble fingers, hugging a tall glass carrying caramel liquor and somehow managing to dwarf the cup’s size. The extra decoration is sensual in such an unexpectedly delicious manner. 

The hand he has tucked in his pants ducks out to comb through his dark auburn ringlets and Y/N can feel her mouth water at the new round of elegant rings. The action activates the cologne Harry had thoughtfully spritz in specific pressure points along his body, the scent of tobacco and vanilla traveling through the fog-heavy air and causing Y/N’s stomach to summersault. 

The young man is as close to flawless as anyone could ever come. 

Y/N feels an unmistakable sharp pain shoot through her ankle, and she comes to the realization that it had been the tip of one of her friend’s heels. The reality check jars her out of the embarrassing daze he’d spelled onto her, open mouth snapping shut and her lashes fluttering over her previously unblinking eyes. 

“Oh! Uhm—uh—” She clumsily twists sideways to fully face him, swallowing thickly and tasting the remnants of the alcohol she’d barely been nursing. “N-No. I’m not— well, I don’t think…? We Ubered here so that wouldn’t make any sense ‘cause I have no car to drive...so...” 

The boy chuckles softly at her choppy monologue, his laughter warm and inviting, similar to the look reflecting off his shiney irises, the golden flecks around his pupils seeming to swell and shrink from the rainbow lights cascading across them. Despite being caught off guard and utterly embarrassed, she can’t seem to break eye contact with him. The longer she gazes into his eyes, the more relaxed she begins to feel, a fuzzy heat stemming from the center of her belly and spreading up her neck and ears. 

Y/N gulps heavily like before, willing her tongue to produce a less embarrassing comment. “Sorry. Let me...Let me start over…Hi.”

“Hello.” He quips back playfully, lopsided grin widening in fond amusement. He lifts his drink up a bit in greeting. “M’Harry.”

“Y/N.” The girl squeaks out, copying his gesture because it’s easier than forcing her disoriented brain to try and come up with its own. 

Harry flirts his intent up and down Y/N’s body slowly, checking her out without any subtlety. He wants her to know he’s interested. 

When his sight locks with hers again, he bats his lashes sultrily and pours as much passion as he can into his tone, accent weighing in just right. “S’nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Her entire face prickles at how her name sounds dripping from those faultless raspberry lips. She’d pay anything to hear him say it again. “You, too.” 

This is not what Y/N intended. This is most definitely not what she’d intended to happen when she’d reluctantly agreed to go out with some coworkers on a Friday night, giving in simply because she had promised herself she’d be more social within her new job. 

She had moved to California roughly two months ago, wanting to get away from her old life in the small, boring town she hated to call home. Buying the flight had been a drastic decision made when she had been under the influence of something she’d rather not admit, but the following day— after she had sobered up from a wicked hangover— she found herself not wanting to cancel the trip. Found herself craving the excitement and adventure of beginning anew somewhere far away from everything she had ever known. 

All of Y/N’s friends back home had supported her without hesitation, egging her preposterous idea and congratulating her on “getting the fuck out of here.” Her family had been a little less supportive, but after a few heartfelt chats about following your ambitions and a budgeting lesson from her cousin, they had gingerly gotten on board. They understood that keeping her trapped in that lame town where nothing really happened wasn’t the way to ensure her success in life. Therefore, the people closest to her had swallowed their opinions and respected her choice to dive off the deep end, in search of something better beyond the borders of their tiny city. 

Within a week, Y/N had secured a decent job at a semi-popular cafe, courtesy of a connection from a family friend. Within two weeks, after many sleepless nights full of Rocky Road ice cream and the bright white pages of ApartmentFinder.com, she had managed to book a nice flat close to her place of work. It was a miracle, if she’d ever seen one. Especially within the crowded, expensive community that is Los Angeles. Within three weeks, she had been walking out of the giant glass building that was LAX with only two suitcases in tow, boarding an Uber to her new life. 

Things had never seemed more picturesque, she’d thought. Everything was falling into place in a way that seemed almost blessed by the universe.

Then, the culture shock hit. 

California was different. It’s was so fucking different than anything she’d ever faced and she wasn’t prepared for the social difficulties she’d have to hurdle. All her life, Y/N had grown up with the same people around her, spending every school year with them up until graduation, expanding her friend group as time passed. Even after high school, she’d remained closely connected with most of her graduating class. The region she lived in was tiny, tight-knit and friendly; it was hard not to. She couldn’t even go to the store for groceries without bumping into at least three people from her Algebra II class. 

Point being, it had been ages since Y/N had been put in a situation where she actively had to try and make friends. She’d been through that challenge way back in kindergarten and had never been hit with it again. 

Until it smacked her across the head here in LA.

Y/N didn’t mesh well with Californians, she quickly found out. They were all about crazy parties and club-hopping, whereas Y/N had been raised on community cookouts and mass sleepovers. They enjoyed getting cross-faded and streaking down the beach at two in the morning, meanwhile Y/N liked stripping down to her undies and spending the night binging Queer Eye while stuffing her face with Cheeze-Its and Snickers bars. They freely boasted about their sex adventures while bussing down tables at the restaurant, while Y/N’s intimate life had been nonexistent since the move. 

It was just...startling, to put it lightly. It wasn’t what she had expected at all, and that’s mostly her fault for not doing the correct amount of research before jumping headfirst into a cliche LifeTime film. 

Therefore, Y/N had made a pact with herself one month in, swearing to let loose and allow her surroundings to sweep her into a new dynamic— into a new, social butterfly version of herself. She’d started accepting the invitations from her coworkers to go out at night, and she’d started putting more effort into being open to wild experiences, no matter how scary they might seem. Shutting down and refusing to mold to her environment would only result in her having to return home with her tail between her legs, and she’d rather jump naked off a pier than see her parents’ faces wracked with pity. 

And that’s exactly what she’d done a couple nights ago, at the encouragement of the group of girls she was at the club with now. It had, in turn, ended in her coming down with a mild cold, but at least now she’d be able to tell her friends back home a cool story about dropping inhibitions. 

Dropping inhibitions is also why Y/N’s here tonight, dressed in the most party-like outfit she could put together, prodding an overly-boozy drink into her system, attempting to release some of the tension that had been building in her head for the last couple of weeks since she’d left her old life behind. That’s why she’s here, with strands of her blow-dried hair catching on the dark red gloss Melissa has slathered on her mouth in a thick layer. That’s why she’s here, with synthetic smoke scratching at her lungs and drunken men and women bumping into her every two minutes, most of them too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throats to realize they’d almost toppled her off her seat. That’s why she’s here, with a blasé expression plastered across her features as her coworkers talk over her head without a second thought, her mind far away from the walls of this overhyped horror house. 

Y/N had been thinking about how she’d just started her Disney+ membership, finding comfort in putting together a mental checklist of all the movies she’s going to plow through the second she sets foot past the doorframe of her apartment. Indulging on her childhood was an ideal form of escapism, in her opinion. She’s positive Walt Disney would agree. 

That’s what her brain had been lost in when Harry’s deep, melodic voice had interrupted her daydreams, sending her spiraling into an embarrassing performance of nerve-induced hysteria. 

Now here she is, blinking back at him dumbly, eyes the smallest bit damp from the smoke machine and neon flashes of light. And here he is, smirking at her over the rim of his glass, eyes raking down her wired up body suggestively as he takes a calm sip from what appears to be the straight tequila in his colossal, bejeweled hand. 

The English boy takes a gradual step closer to her, wanting to make sure he’s not crossing any boundaries that would make her uncomfortable. The scent of his cologne intensifies and she feels a fiery heat suddenly pour between her clasped thighs. It just hits her how long it’s truly been since she’s gotten laid and fuck, it’s sad.

Harry begrudgingly peels his attention away from Y/N for a second, aiming his words towards the girls standing behind her with their mouths still opened stupidly. Even from a respectful distance, his warm breath still washes across her jaw and cheek, causing electricity to zip down her spine. “You don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, do you?”

‘Yeah,’ Y/N thinks in the back of her muddled skull, ‘that’s definitely tequila.’

Isabel and Melissa slowly shake their heads in unison, glancing at each other as if to confirm he’d just spoken to them. 

The edges of Harry’s lips jolt into a kind, easygoing smile. “Thank you. Promise I’ll keep her safe.” 

Y/N feels her heart hiccup at his statement. If she’s not insanely mistaken, it appears to have carried an undertone of dirty intentions. God, she’s praying she’s not mistaken. 

The two girls clamber away on their tall pumps, rounding around Harry and pausing for a moment. They make moaning faces and vulgar motions behind him, encouraging Y/N to pursue the stranger. She then watches them disappear into the throng of crowded bodies, leaving her alone with the beautiful boy and her heart slamming against her ribs. 

Y/N focuses back onto Harry, licking her itching lips lightly, not knowing what to say next as he settles himself beside her. He rests his forearm on the counter along with his drink, tucking his other hand back into  his trouser pocket and fixing himself into a comfortable standing position, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. The friction between his jacket and the bar rides his sleeve up an inch or so, and Y/N gets a view of the anchor tattoo he has along his wrist, as well as the upside-down cross inked between his thumb and index finger. 

Harry catches her looking, mouth twitching with a smidge of arrogant self-assurance. He loves when girls drool over his tats. 

“I have more.” He remarks lightly, a pang of condescending pleasure shooting through his chest at the way she jerks and pins her gaze down to the floor. 

Blood rushes into her cheeks at the realization that she’s been caught and Harry’s teeth grind. It’s so hot watching her fidget for him. Maybe he finds her more attractive than he’d originally let on. “Would you like to see them?”

Y/N timidly coaxes herself into locking stares with him once again, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, barely nodding with a soft, “Sure.” 

She looks so pretty like that, he notices, staring up at him all doe-eyed and shy. It’d probably look even better if she were on her knees.

Yeah, he definitely likes her more than he’d thought. 

Harry proceeds to shift about, shrugging his coat off his strong shoulders, letting it slip down his lean arms and reveal the plethora of dark tattoos strewn across his left arm. Y/N watches avidly, drinking up every flex of his biceps under the black paint and every twitch of his pecs beneath his cotton shirt, the tendons along his throat going taut for just a moment. That moment is enough for her to etch the image into the back of her eyelids for the rest of her life. 

Harry tosses the article onto the table, extending his arm over its surface for her to get a better reading. She doesn’t miss the chance, her pupils tracing over every line and stroke of the pen, over every shaded area and meticulous detail. 

His voice comes out as a low, garbled murmur, his own irises studying her features with just as much intensity. “You can touch them, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

After a moment of hesitation, the brim of her crystalline cup is replaced by the ridges of his smooth, tanned skin. She drags her digits over the naked mermaid, tracing the curve of her figure and the dip of her tail, then passing onto the stem of the large rose, ghosting over every thorn and prickle. Harry can feel her heartbeat through her fingertips and it’s making him throb. 

“They’re very pretty.” Y/N whispers, allowing her touch to fall away, palm finding refuge across the counter. “Did they hurt?” 

“A bit, yeah. But I’ve gotten so many done that I think I grew numb to the needle after a while.” Harry answers, shrugging one shoulder to show it’s no big deal. He grasps his glass once again and takes a drawn-out swig, extending the action just so she can see the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. Once the cup is back in its place, his tongue peeks out and swipes any leftover liquid from his rosy lips, which then settle into a coy simper. “Plus, I kinda like the pain.” 

Y/N’s breathing stutters in her lungs and she swiftly swerves the topic onto something much less explicit. “So why’d you ask if I was the designated driver? That’s kind of an odd question. Very out of the blue.” 

Harry lulls his middle finger across the hem of his glass, exactly how she had been doing earlier, the motion weighed by an innuendo. She seems to understand it, present in how she bites into the inside of her cheek. “I just figured that a pretty girl like you would have easily found someone to dance with. So when I saw you sitting here looking all bored with your drink barely touched…I just assumed, I suppose.” 

And there it is again— the blood pouring into her face. Christ, if she keeps that up, he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Thank you, that’s— that’s really sweet. Proper gentleman.” 

Harry runs his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes snapping to her tinted mouth for a second, establishing some sexual tension that he’ll expand on as they go. “Who doesn’t like a guy who knows how to treat a girl, right?” 

Y/N clears her throat softly, obviously phased by his forward compliment, but she tries to play it off. “To answer your question, I— uhm...I’m not really one for the club scene, I guess. Don’t really like it, but I didn’t want to be rude and turn down the invitation.” 

‘Good girl,’ Harry thinks, silently cheering her on for having more brain cells than the typical human. 

“Well, that’s where we share some common ground, then.” He chimes brightly, a soft smile bringing his dimples to life. “I don’t care for clubs, either, but my friends have an affinity for them so here I am.”

He gestures vaguely towards the general direction where he’d left Mitch, continuing his rant. “The choking smoke, the annoying strobe lights, the crowded floor, the drunk morons—”

“Bumping into you without giving a shit.” Y/N finishes his sentence, her vulgarity drawing a boyish giggle from her companion and now she’s convinced she’d do anything to hear him laugh like that again. “And there’s always a faint smell of vomit coming from somewhere.”

Harry slaps his hand down against the glass table in passionate agreement, voice pitching up slightly as his brows jump in emotion. “Right?! It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t understand how anyone could genuinely enjoy it.” 

Y/N nods vehemently, sharing the same expression of utter distaste towards the subject. “It honestly doesn’t make any sense to me, either. Why come here when you can go to, like, a nice bar somewhere, y’know?”

Harry blinks at her in astonishment, her opinion mirroring his own with psychic-like accuracy. “My thoughts exactly.” 

“Great minds think alike.” Y/N responds playfully, taking a hearty gulp from her drink since the first time he’d spotted her from across the room. 

After a comfortable pause, Harry speaks up, also entertaining another sip from his own drink, which is now nearly empty. “Are you from around here?”

She can’t be. Rarely anyone born and raised here is willing to bash the status quo, and never so openly. 

She’s once again mesmerized by the attractiveness of his rings, but manages to get her composure in check. “Kinda. I moved here about two months ago.” 

Precisely his point.

Harry releases a curious hum over the cup between his lips. “Let me be the one to officially welcome you to Cali, then! Where people go to shitty clubs for fun and tan themselves into a strip of leather.”

Y/N sputters out a half-suppressed giggle and Harry’s brows almost furrow at the weird fluttering in his stomach. He rarely gets it.

Y/N takes another deep gulp of what he thinks is probably an Old Fashioned, silently praising the way she’d finished it off so quickly. She crunches an ice shard between her teeth and lets it melt across her tongue before engaging again. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either though, are you?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to chuckle a bit and she fights off an endeared smile. 

“What gave it away?” He asks, purposefully doing a thicker, fuller accent, his teasing nature making the grin she’d just stifled fully break through.

Y/N lifts a shoulder offhandedly. “Your accent seems a little too…posh for this area. Or even this hemisphere.”

Harry scoffs softly, the pinky around his glass sticking up jokingly as he kinks an eyebrow at her, a few rouge curls falling across his forehead. “Keen ears, mate.”

Y/N lifts her drink up a bit with a playfully knowing air, mimicking an English dialect. “Cheers.”

He places his empty cup down on the counter, his middle finger once more ghosting around the edge absentmindedly. She notices the pastel yellow polish covering his nails, tiny black smiley faces decorating the lacquer.

“I like your nails.” She admires, tipping her empty lowball towards his hand for significance. “Did you do them yourself?”

Harry glances at his fingers, stretching and wiggling them out, his features taking on a bit of pride. “Sure did.” 

“Don’t think I’ve ever met a guy at a club who could pull off nail polish so easily.” 

The left edge of his lips flicks upwards. “How do you mean?”

Y/N’s gaze bounces back to his and the tone twirling in his jade irises tells her everything she needs to know about keeping this conversation going: he enjoys being praised. 

She chooses her next words carefully, wanting to appeal to his interests. “I mean that it looks amazing on you. The color suits your skin nicely, makes your hands look good.” 

Harry breaks eye contact, glimpsing down at his shoes and she realizes he’s actually trying to hide a blush. The fact that she had managed to coax one out of him boosts her confidence while simultaneously making his own waver. He’s never like this— never so easily flustered. He needs to get it together.

Harry tilts his chin back up, lower lip strung between his two front teeth. His voice comes out as a flirty laugh.

“Known you for maybe,” he looks at the beautiful watch on his wrist symbolically, “ten minutes, and you’re already stroking my ego just the way I like it. I think that’s a record.” 

Y/N doesn’t know if it’s the liquor she’d just consumed too quickly, or if it’s Harry’s intoxicatingly alluring scent dulling the region of her brain that controls fear, but she’s suddenly filled with a strange surge of courage and her thoughts are spilling down her semi-numb tongue before she can stop them. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at stroking, so an ego’s not too hard to handle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, surprised at her brazen reply. He might have misjudged her more than he assumed. However, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy this girl more than the one he thought he was going to receive. There’s just something about how she can match his banter without a problem, and how they share a lot of the same thoughts and opinions, that just lights a fire in his stomach. 

“Is that so?” His voice lowers in pitch and he scoots a step closer, fingers just barely brushing against her arm as he repositions himself against the bar. His question comes out as a sultry murmur. “What else can you handle?”

Y/N knows that she’s starting to cross a line, and with every passing moment, the likelihood of returning to her friends is getting smaller and smaller. She’s not mad about it. Riding off of the wave of confidence that had inflated her ego earlier, she mumbles her response back with the same tone and texture. “How about you buy me another drink and then maybe you’ll find out?”

Harry gives her a boyish grin and the indents that pop into his cheeks nudge his appearance from an incredibly attractive man to an adorable cheeky boy. He motions to the bartender for another round of drinks, only letting his eyes flicker away from her for the moment it takes to do it. “How do you like LA so far?”

“It’s...alright.” It’s Y/N’s turn to move closer to him now, flicking her hair off her shoulder, hoping that the motion releases the perfume she’d dabbed on her neck while getting ready. Judging by the darkening of Harry's eyes, it does just that. “It’s definitely a change in pace from where I used to live, but I think I’m slowly gaining the reigns. I feel like once I get acquainted, I could grow to love it.”

“LA’s definitely a toggle. You could either vibe with it, or it’ll eat you alive and spit you back out.” 

She bats her lashes at him in stunned fright at his bluntness, his face deadly serious without any twitch or give. 

Harry then bursts into high-pitched laughter, eyes crinkling shut and nose scrunching. “I’m just fucking with you, love. Ease up, hm?”

“You asshole!” Y/N exhales grandly, half in relief and half in indignation, slugging him on the shoulder. All she feels is hard muscle beneath. 

He continues to cackle, sticking his tongue out at her. “Looked like you were about to cry.” 

“It definitely crossed my mind, yeah!”

The bartender arrives with their fresh drinks and Harry tells the man to but both of Y/N’s on his tab. She feels her cheeks glow, telling him he doesn’t have to, but he waves it off and says he’s more than happy to serve such a nice girl as herself. Especially if she “hates the same things I do. Think of it as your initiation gift into the Anti-Club Club.” 

A handful of heartbeats tick by, full of comfortable quietness as they both savor their new beverages. Harry pipes up first, regaining their topic from before.

“But, yeah, Cali’s for sure a special place. You meet some cool people if you hang around for a while. But sometimes,” he pauses for a second, eyes gleaming with something she can’t quite interpret. “But sometimes you can meet a really interesting person in just one night.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Y/N clicks her nails against her Old Fashioned distractedly as Harry fixes her with that beautiful emerald gaze that makes her ears tingle. She cocks her head to the side knowingly, flashing him a soft smirk. “Sometimes, you just happen to meet that one in a million.”

“A lucky strike.” He adds, lifting his tequila an inch off the counter and tilting it towards her in what appears to be a toast, irises dancing with a certain type of suggestive mischief. “To meeting interesting people.”

The human girl clinks the rim of her lowball to the edge of his cup, shrugging her brows and reciting his comment back to him. “To meeting interesting people.” 

Y/N measures how the rest of their interaction goes by how quickly her drink shrinks. 

When she reaches down to the first ice cube stacked on top, Harry has managed to coax multiple rounds of laughter out of her, his humor startlingly similar to her’s in the most refreshing way imaginable. She quickly learns that despite his broad shoulders, lean torso, dark inking, and flawless features, he’s a complete and total dork. His personality consists mainly of voice impersonations and contorting his expression into an endless array of silly faces, which she takes to easily.

By the time Y/N’s amber drink has reached halfway down its container, the default touch barrier between the two has broken completely. There had been a few caresses prior, but now it’s more frequent, more noticeable, and each touch extends in time. She had been the one to initiate getting physical, which had sat so right in her stomach because that meant he was respectful and patient— definitely unlike most men in clubs. 

The mortal girl had gently shoved Harry’s chest when he’d made an nonchalant joke about how losing his swim trunks at a nude beach had been both the best and worst experience of his life, her cheeks boiling as she had felt nothing but more toned muscle beneath the cotton fabric of his top. She had gone back to tracing at his tattoos the further they got into sharing anecdotes and opinions, glancing up at him for permission in the middle of their exchange and smiling to herself when he’d nodded casually without a second thought. As the conversations continue, they both unintentionally get closer in distance to the point where the arm Harry had settled on the bar is now fully wrapped around the small of her back. She willingly leans into him, their knees and thighs brushing with every shift of their bodies and those minute moments begin to pile up their excitement.

By the time the alcohol in her possession bottoms out, she is nearly sitting in his lap, faces only a few inches apart. Y/N can’t recall half of what she had said, the subject having steered into so many different places that she couldn’t be bothered to keep track. Besides, she’s too focused on trying to keep a straight face as Harry plays footsie with her below the counter, his light yellow sneaker toying with her heeled velvet wedge. 

An important question on his behalf snaps Y/N out of her flirty stupor.

“So how do you like your new home?”

She blinks at him slowly, partially to try and give a seductive tinge to the interaction and partially because the liquor has started to truly settle in. It takes her a few heartbeats to process the inquiry. “I love it, actually. It’s a place of my own, for the first time ever. I couldn’t be happier.”

The corners of Harry’s swollen lips tick in genuine happiness on her behalf. “That sounds amazing. Congratulations on such a big step.” 

“Thank you! What about yourself? Renting anything neat?”

“Oh, I own a condo here.” He mentions casually, outlining the criss-cross pattern along the circumference of his highball glass. “I used to visit so often that I finally just decided to pull the trigger on one.”

“Look at you, investing in real estate.” She says in a teasing voice, her heel grazing around his calf slowly, cheeks sizzling as he parts his legs a bit to allow her the pleasure of traveling higher up.

“Mmhm.” Harry licks his red lips, free hand starting to trace over her own. The tips of his fingers are calloused and cold, the motion of them over her skin almost pulling a tremble out of her body. She does her best to restrain it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Is it nice?” 

“Hm?”

His lips twitch in endearment at how he’s managing to make her lose her train of thought. “Your apartment, darling.”

She rests the rim of her drink on the bottom of her lip as she speaks. “It’s nothing huge or fancy, but it’s a decent size and l can call it home. Can’t get much better than that.”

Y/N loves how Harry's eyes flit to her lips for what she thinks is the billionth time tonight, his vision sketching along the curve of her cupid’s bow and dotting every peak.

Another warm glow of confidence spikes through her veins and she’s talking before she can analyze her thoughts. “Well, at least I think it can’t get much better than that. Although, I could just be biased. Could probably use an outside opinion.” 

It takes Harry a moment to register what she’s suggesting, a light blush creeping up the base of his neck as he realizes how he’s stopped so abruptly. Humans usually never get him this unnerved and it’s one of many times she’s made it happen. “An outside opinion?”

Y/N lists her head to the side. It sounds like he’s accepting the vague invitation, but she’s so anxious to mess this up that she’s second guessing herself with every passing second. However, with every touch, she wants Harry more and more, and that’s enough to propel her towards a more direct approach. “Mmhm. Like yours, maybe. Would you like to come back and see it?”

Harry pauses for a few of her heartbeats, and then bobs his head in acceptance. She can breath again. 

He finishes off the last inch or so of his tequila, a wicked grin creeping its way across his pretty, flushed mouth, long fingers carding into his loosely arranged curls. “I’m more than happy to be of service.”

A smile works its way onto Y/N’s own face at his response, her foot dropping back down his leg slowly. “I’m glad to hear.”

“Mm.” Harry takes her hand completely now and she almost moans at how much bigger his are, his rings pinching a bit, skin rough in some areas, but silky smooth in others. And strangely icy, but she enjoys it. “Shall we say goodbye to your friends first? I wouldn’t want them to worry about you.”

He knows her “friends” couldn’t care less, but he wants to be as much of a gentleman as possible. Romanticize, romanticize, romanticize.

Y/N snorts, knowing full well that they’d probably purposefully embarrass her in front of him as a joke. 

She squeezes his grasp lightly, giving him a soft smile. “You’re sweet, but it’s fine. They were actually behind you earlier, encouraging this whole thing, so I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” 

Harry hums deep in the back of his throat and the sound melts into a cute chuckle. “I’m glad they helped, then. Think you can deliver them my thanks some other time?”

The young woman chews on the inside of her cheek at his comment, realizing that it suggests he aims on keeping her occupied for the rest of the night and well into the morning. She has to will herself not to lurch forward and kiss at his annoyingly perfect lips right then and there. “I’ll make sure to pass the message along.” 

With one last cocky simper, Harry helps her down from the stool and pays off their tab, offering her his jacket since most of her outfit is made of flimsy fabrics. Y/N takes it appreciatively, lashes fluttering when his scent envelopes her like a blanket. It’s the unique smokiness from his cologne, mixed with a slightly sweeter smell that she assumes is his shampoo, and a bit of something that reminds her of a vanilla candle. The aromas are sewn into every thread of his coat and she can’t wait to have those scents glued all over her more deliberately later tonight.  

Harry turns and plunges them into the throng of partiers, weeding through bodies with a type of determination that makes her insides twist. His arm comes up in front of him as he plows people out of the way with absolutely no regret, leaving her to throw out a few half-assed apologies in his wake. The idea that he’s excited to be alone with her has Y/N’s insides churning. 

Once they escape all of the grinding limbs and tight spaces, stumbling into the cool air of the starry night, she takes a huge gulp of air. She prays it will tide over the jitters running along the inside of her tummy. She has just now realized how riled up he’d gotten her and it’s all coming to a raging boil. 

Harry paces past the bouncer, throwing up two fingers in parting. “Later, Brock.” 

The security guard gives the young vampire a confused look, not recognizing him at all and wondering how he knows his name. 

Y/N repeats Harry’s phrase for the hell of it, squeezing his hand jestingly and he glimpses over his shoulder, grinning at her with sheer amusement and something much deeper swirling around the specks of copper in his irises. If there was a bit more light, perhaps she would have noticed the way his irises had glinted blood red instead of olive green.

She ogles at the way his back muscles shift and flex below his pastel blue shirt, her mind vaguely taking note of the light yellow detailings along the cuffs and collar. The tee is intriguing and fun and she hopes he’ll let her sleep in it after they’re done. 

She also gets distracted by the baby curls decorating the nape of his neck. She’s itching to tug at them and see what his response would be. Would he shiver in her grasp and let out a soft moan, or would he smirk darkly and tell her to go harder?

Harry suddenly halts, snapping her out of her thoughts as he presents his car. Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off. “This is yours?!”

She gawks at the vintage jet black convertible before her, feeling like she isn’t worthy of its chic presence. It looks new, shining in the street lamps like a thousand diamonds, not a scratch or dent in sight. 

Harry unlocks the passenger’s door, opening it and guiding her inside with a gentle pull at their clasped hands, shrugging his brows playfully. “Hope it’s not too shabby for your liking.”  

“Are you kidding?” The human mumbles in awe as she ducks down into the patented leather seat, running her free hand over the elegant cover. She sighs softly at the way his smell is lingering inside the vehicle, just as much as it sticks to his clothes. “I feel like I should bow to it or something.”

He laughs fully now, leaning down to get a view of her sitting prim and proper in his favorite car, looking gorgeous in her flowy silk pants, lace creme blouse, and his own clothes. He gnaws at his bottom lip to withhold a needy groan. “I think you fit right in.” 

Y/N feels warmth erupt into her face and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to distract her fingers from shaking. “Looks like I’m not the only one that’s good at stroking egos.”

“S’hardly a task. You make it easy, doll.” 

It’s the second pet name he’s called her tonight— it’s strangely vintage, same as his car— and she can’t wait to hear what others he has in store. Preferably in the form of breathy pants and broken whines.

Y/N flicks her gaze up at him through heavy lashes, attempting to stifle a sheepish smile. “Quite the charmer.”

A moment of silence suspends in the air, a light breeze filtering through Harry’s curls, swaying the jewelry around his neck as well as the earring hanging from his lobe. Harry speaks up with a type of hushed desire she hadn’t heard from him yet. “Can I kiss you?”

She blinks up at him once in mild surprise and then releases a sigh of utter relief. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her hand reaches upwards outside the confines of the car, knitting into the thick fabric of his shirt and yanking him down. The second their mouths meet, it sets off a dozen fireworks in the pit of her stomach. His is softer than she had imagined, wet and warm, and his tongue carries the sourness of the tequila he’d been swishing the whole night. 

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, and then a quiet whimpery moan streams down his tongue onto her itchy skin. “Christ, that was hot.”

As much as she loves the taste of him— the tartness of the alcohol mixed with an inherent sweetness his lips carry— she forces herself to pull away, but keeps her sweaty forehead pressed to his. “Yeah. It was.”

With one hand still gripping the car door, Harry uses his other to cup her chin lightly, guiding her into another kiss. Now that they have both developed a feel for the other, this one is less tentative than the last. She tastes so fucking good on his tongue, like strawberry syrup—probably from her lipgloss— orange bitters, and bourbon. He just has to have more of it.

A helpless gasp escapes Y/N when Harry's teeth graze against her upper lip, only nipping enough that she craves more. More of anything he has to offer. 

He pulls away and the whine that plucks her vocal chords feeds his eternal soul like nothing else has in a while.  

The young man grins at her for a moment, half in smug satisfaction, half red-faced and desperate, before carefully closing the car door and making his way to the driver’s side. He slides in with ease, shuts his own door and buckles up with a click of the belt. The simple action has never looked so attractive before, but she’s certain that anything Harry does with his ring-covered hands would be attractive.  

He fishes his keys from his front pocket, asking her where she lives in order to try and orient himself. As it turns out, she’s not too far away from his own flat. He knows exactly which condominium she’s referring to without having to even search it up— a perk of living here for a few decades.

He also chuckles to himself a bit at the fact that she hadn’t mentioned he shouldn’t drive under the influence. Vampires have an extremely high tolerance due to their self-healing properties, so the drinks he’d had only gave him a soft, warm buzz. He just finds it comical— and slightly arousing— that she’s so eager to get at him that she’d let that detail slip her mind.

Harry starts the car, but doesnt pull out of the parking spot. Instead, he glances at Y/N as a crease appears in his beautifully sculpted brows. The idea of something displeasing him bothers her, and she’s about to ask what it is when he murmurs a quick, “Just a second, dove.” He reaches across to grab her seatbelt, pulling it over her body and securing it into place on her behalf, making sure it’s nice and proper before leaning back in his seat. He doesn’t know why he cared to do it, but he had. 

The simple action leaves another layer of heat on Y/N’s cheeks. Having him bent over her like that was just a teaser of what was going to unfold later and it already has her mind spinning. She can only imagine how much of a mess he’s going to leave her when there’s no clothes restraining them.

“Thanks.” She whispers, playing with the tips of her fingers.

“No need to thank me. Just wanna keep that pretty face in one piece.” 

He plops one hand on the steering wheel as he shifts into reverse, carefully backing out of his spot. His arm ducks behind her seat, head turning and veins chiseling into his neck. It takes all of Y/N’s willpower not to lean up and begin to darken his tanned skin with hickeys. 

Harry cruises up to the exit of the club parking lot, waiting impatiently for the turn signal, digits tapping away at the leather below them. Y/N can see him throwing pained little glances at her from her peripheral vision, obviously restless to feel her skin sliding against his. Each look causes the warmth between her thighs to swell. 

She’s talking before she can stop herself, voice bashful and soft as ever, yet full of boldness from the liquor she’d consumed. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something to you that’s gonna get us both killed.”

The tapping of his fingers halts and he cranes his head to face her fully, ignoring the flashing green arrow on the stoplight before them. 

Harry reaches over the center console, his nose dragging up the length of her cheekbone, causing her to squeak out a tiny whimper at the feathery sensation. It’s the first time tonight he’s touched her so intimately. 

The sentence he grits out next makes her entire body visibly shutter, his breath hot against her ear, damp lips smearing over her jaw as his oath burns into her flesh.

“And if you say something like that to me again, I promise you I’ll pull this car over and make you eat every fucking word.” 

[buckyownsmylife]

Lucky - Logan Howlett smut

The one where Logan catches you touching yourself when you’re supposed to be his.

Warnings: masturbation (f), oral sex (f), slight voyeurism, playful possessiveness, reader is a dumbass, Logan is in love, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a single spank, kind of a cum kink?, creampie

A/N: If a man tries to control when you can orgasm without your consent, please ignore him and get yourself another one. Logan here is obviously jesting and even if he were to create such a rule, he’d only enforce it with his girlfriend’s acceptance, of course. Day 4 of kinktober and the prompts were masturbation + eating out.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

As soon as I hear my room’s door close behind me, the stress of the day started to leave my tense muscles. Just being surrounded by my stuff, that I’d been carefully collecting since my arrival in Charles’ academy four months before, was enough to send the message to my brain: you’re home, relax. No one is going to disturb you here.

It wasn’t necessarily true, of course, which was one of the cons of living in the same place that I worked, but the probability of one of my students coming all the way here to ask for help, advice, or any other sort of guidance was extremely low, thankfully. As 5pm approached, the youngsters too began to relax, opting to look for social activities or hobbies to occupy their time instead of training and studying. In all my time here, no one except teachers had come to bother me in my own bedroom, and even that was extremely rare. Everyone seemed to understand the need for some alone time after a day of responsibilities.

So that’s why this room that was designated to me had this ability to instantly make me feel better, I guess. Up until now, the only other place that managed to make me feel so safe wasn’t actually an environment, but a person.

Logan.

We’d been some sort of unspoken thing for a while now, only about a month. Despite his usual grumpiness that seemed to be directed to keep me away from him right after my arrival, the fact that I didn’t seem to care quickly made him curious, and this curiosity soon became a particular interest in seeing me underneath him, moaning pleasurably in his bed.

He made me feel safe, and the truth was that I didn’t care that after a month, we still hadn’t decided to give a name to what we had. All that mattered to me was that he wanted to spend time with me too and that he treated me right. 

But he’d been gone for the last four days on a special mission assigned by Professor X, so that meant that my current situation couldn’t really be blamed solely on my student’s behavior for the day. Oh, no. This particular tension came after my body had grown accustomed to being treated to multiple orgasms night after night, only to be abruptly denied those treats.

I missed him. I hadn’t had to touch myself in over a month and I’d spent the last few nights depriving myself of it because I knew I could never give myself the kind of pleasure that Logan could. Only he wasn’t here, and I was going crazy, especially since no one had any idea of when he would be back.

I needed him.

So I decided to grant me at least some sort of relief, as pathetic as it’d be, in the hopes of calming my longing body. The first thing I did was strip down to nothing. My favorite pampering activity was a nice warm bath after a stressful day of classes, and from Logan’s comments, I knew he liked it when I took the time to lather myself up in essential oils, too. On more than one occasion he commented that it made me smell “good enough to eat”.

It was only after said bath that I laid down on my still-made bed, spread out to appreciate the silkiness of my own skin after a good hydration session. The smell of coconuts from my favorite cream helped to ease me into the right state of mind, that I so desperately needed so I could start softly running my fingers over my thighs without that stupid inner voice that wanted to make me recoil in embarrassment.

I was a grown woman in the privacy of her own room. It was stupid to be timid about needing to touch myself, so I focused on the desire I could feel rising through me, and not on any other pop-up thought that insisted on making its way into my brain.

It became a lot easier when I thought about my lover.

Oh, how I wished Logan was here. He’d love to see me in this position, legs spread open for his eyes to take. Only the thought of his piercing eyes fixated in my naked body was enough to get me wet, and that elicited another memory of him. How he’d groan when the smell of my juices hit his nose, immediately prompting him to get on his knees in front of me and bury his head between my thighs. He’d lap me up eagerly, hungrily, like I was an entire feast dedicated to him after a life of restraint. As passionate a lover as Logan was, I don’t think there was anything he loved more than eating pussy.

If he was here, he’d say mine was the only one that provoked such an animalistic reaction from him. I’d laugh, refusing to believe anything that came out of his mouth when all he could think about was burying himself inside of me, but I’d blush nonetheless. A part of me wanted to believe I was special to him, despite his years and the number of women he’d most certainly laid with, mostly because he was special to me, too. 

But I couldn’t afford this sort of thought, so I opted to focus on the memory of how Logan’s tongue felt against my clit. I let a single finger touch it, trying to mirror the same pattern of movement he’d make. It was nowhere near the same sensation, but it was enough to prompt me to release a little moan of pleasure.

We were starting to get somewhere.

Logan’s P.O.V.

After four long days of fuckery, the only thing I could think about was going back home straight to my girl’s arms. So as soon as we were through the academy’s doors, I took the stairs two at a time to go directly into her room, having memorized her schedule long enough to know that she’d most likely be there. 

No one tried to get in my way. They knew better.

Much to my surprise, as I approached the now familiar doors to her room, a familiar scent engulfed me, prompting me to tune into the sweet sounds that I’d dreamed about these last nights. They were very discreet, but for someone with my enhanced abilities and extreme focus on her body and reactions, it was very obviously there.

Blindly, I reached for her door, slowly pushing it open and welcoming the warmth and overwhelming perfume that I’d come to associate with her presence, especially during the times she was releasing these delicious little moans. Immediately, my ears picked up on another, much dirtier tune: the squelching sounds her fingers elicited from her sweet pussy as she fucked herself.

I almost fell to my knees, as my legs suddenly lost the ability to keep me upright, but I was able to hold myself back just in time. Wouldn’t want to miss the show, especially when it was making me so fucking hard. 

Finally venturing further into the room, I came face to face with the beauty waiting for me. She hadn’t noticed my arrival yet, too preoccupied with her pleasurable activities, her eyes closed shut in concentration as her mouth fell open in that delicious silent scream I liked to swallow so much.

I watched as she touched herself a bit more, attentively looking for the telling signs that she was close to her release, and just when the muscles on her thigh began to clench, I leaned over her and wrapped my hand around her wrist, pulling her fingers from inside her cunt. The surprised gasp she let out made me smirk.

I sucked on her fingers, enjoying my first taste of her after what felt like forever. A deep groan erupted from my chest at her sweetness invading my mouth. “Missed me?” I teased when I finally reopened my eyes to find her staring back at me with a lustful expression.

“You have no idea just how much,” was her answer. I was enough of a man to feel proud of her response, but it also became clear just how much I had actually become soft for the woman under me - a stark contrast to the hardness I could feel restricting my jeans.  

When she first arrived at the academy, I hadn’t expected her to become as important to me as she had now, but just as I struggled to take off my clothes as quickly as possible before kneeling before the bed, pulling her by the ankles so she was spread out just in front of my face, I couldn’t really deny it. I’d do anything to keep her with me, just like this.

“I think I have some idea of it…” I teased her just as I softly ran my fingers over her pussy lips, simply collecting the wetness that had gathered there.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

He once more wrapped his lips over his wet fingers and moaned at my taste in his mouth. “How are you this fucking sweet?” Was all he asked before he delved right in, parting my thighs with his large hands and licking from my puckered hole to my clit. 

“Fuck!” I cursed, throwing one of my hands over my head, to find something to hold onto, while the other found its way into his hair, pulling on it just the way I knew he liked. I felt his groan reverberating through me before he chuckled, briefly stopping his ministrations to stare up at me with his lower face dripping from my wetness.

“I love when I can make you curse.” Biting my lip, I accepted that I couldn’t retaliate his teasing while he continued to eat me out. His tongue easily engulfed my whole pussy, so just that was enough to bring me to the edge of an orgasm in a way I could never grant it to myself. “Come on, sweet girl,” he admonished, slapping my thigh. “Ride my face. Give me what I came here for.”

I obeyed him without even thinking about it. This was just how it was when it came to us. He asked me to strip, my panties were on the floor before he finished his sentence. He ordered me to get on my knees, my mouth was instantly watering at the sight of him.

But God, did he deliver. My compliance came very easily when it came to a man like him, so eager to please beyond what his body could already offer. I’d been with many men before who, while obviously not as well-endowed as him, had been on the bigger side, and they always left me needing more, like they believed their dick’s length was enough to satisfy me without any real effort from their part.

Not Logan, though. Oh, no. Logan thrived on making me cum, over and over again. He liked to say he’d live on my pussy alone if possible, and by the way he very hungrily ate me out for hours on end at times, I knew he was being honest.

I sometimes liked to entertain the idea that I was the one who brought out that side of him, but I knew better. Someone like Logan had a lot of experience, I was dumb to think that I might be somewhat special to him, somehow. So I didn’t.

Instead, I allowed the filthy sounds of my wetness being gurgled down by him to bring me back to this moment, choosing to focus instead on how delicious his tongue felt against my clit, how he happily accepted my movements as I buckled up, in search of my orgasm.

I was right over the edge, in need of just a little something else to push me over it when Logan suddenly decided to open his eyes and focus them on me. The sight of his darkened eyes and dilated pupils was enough to make me throw my head back against the soft pillows of my bed as I reached bliss.

When the stars of light disappeared from my vision and I came to my senses, Logan was still in the same spot in front of me, his thumbs softly caressing the inside of my thighs. “You’re back with me, darlin’?” He asked in that deliciously gruff voice of his, and I shivered, nodding breathlessly as I wetted my lips. “So now, let’s have a talk. Who said you could touch yourself while I’m away, huh?”

I blinked once, then twice. My mouth was slightly agape as I looked down at Logan, still sprawled out for his viewing pleasure while my mind raced to make sense of his words. “I-I don’t understand,” I finally confessed, my eyes following his movement as he climbed up on the bed until we were face to face for the first time since his return.

Logan’s P.O.V.

I tsked teasingly, leaning down to deposit a quick kiss on the corner of her lips. “I asked you…” I breathed out on her ear, watching as goosebumps raised over her skin. “... who said you could touch yourself, darlin'. Because last I checked…” I cupped her cunt with one of my hands, chuckling lightly at how I was able to cover it with my palm. “... this pussy was mine and only mine.”

“I-it was?” Now, hold my heart (and my cock) but she just looked too fucking cute with that confused look on her face, her eyebrows frowned as she stared at me like I had grown two fucking heads.

“Of course, sweetheart. Now, I know we hadn’t talked about this before, so I’ll let your pretty little ass spank free this time, but be warned…” I leaned over her again, my nose touching hers as I felt her little breaths against my own lips. “... next time you’re feeling horny, you ask your boyfriend to help you deal with it. And if he’s not around, you wait.”

Now, I was expecting some kind of reaction from my little rule, and I was 100% ready to negotiate, but what I wasn’t expecting was for her eyes to grow twice their size as she suddenly sat up on the bed, forcing me to lean back and take a seat, too.

“Boyfriend?” She definitely looked confused, her eyes searching mine for something I didn’t know since I was just as puzzled. Opting to stay silent, I simply stared back at her, both of my eyebrows raised high as I waited for her explanation. “You mean… you?”

The familiar fire of anger rose up quickly inside my chest, and I had to curl my hands into fists to control myself. “Of course it’s me, who the fuck would it be? Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

Rationally, I knew my problem was less anger and more disappointment. I’d let my guard down for her - way too quickly, faster than I’d done for anyone else throughout my life. And I’d done it because she touched my heart in a way no one else had. I was falling for her, and I thought she felt the same way too.

“NO! Of course not!” She all but jumped, her hands reaching out to cradle my face and I found myself actually relaxing against her touch, as my heartbeat started to slow down at the knowledge that she really was all mine. “I just… I didn’t know… I didn’t think we were dating. I thought you saw me as…”

She didn’t seem to have the courage to finish her sentence, but she didn’t need to. I understood what she meant, and as realization fell upon me, I found myself throwing my head back and full-on laughing, much to her displeasure. When I managed to calm down, she was pouting at me, which only made the arousal that had dissipated by the fear reappear that much stronger.

“Oh, darlin’...” I started, pulling on her ankles to force her on her back again as I hovered over her, watching, analyzing. “I’ve fucked you every single night for the last month. Now, I know I’m not the kind to talk about my feelings, but I figured that made it pretty obvious…”

Leaning down, I took possession of her mouth to give her a breathtaking kiss, forcing her to accept my eager tongue, to taste herself on my lips. Then I went further, kissing her jaw, her neck, until I reached her collarbones, where I sucked a bruise, all the while rubbing my aching cock against her clit before pushing it inside of her in one forceful thrust. 

“... You’re mine. Only mine. Mine to fuck, mine to bruise and mark, mine to cum into.” Her mouth immediately fell open at the feeling of my hardness stretching her open, and I couldn’t help the smirk that took over my lips. “You okay with that, sweetheart?” I asked, waiting for her to adjust to the feeling of being invaded as I nibbled on her earlobe.

Finally, after a few minutes of her struggling to breathe as I felt her squeezing my biceps, she nodded. “Y-yeah.” Grinning, I took that as an okay to start moving and immediately started to pound her against the mattress, just like I loved and had come to learn that she did, too. Her nails bit on my flesh, but it only added to my own arousal, making me growl against the skin of her chest.

“This fucking pussy… You really thought I’d just treat you like a fuckbuddy?” Abruptly pulling out of her, I manhandled her onto her hands and knees before pushing her face down against the mattress, all the while laughing at the little scream of surprise she let out. “I’m never gonna stop fucking you, pretty thing. You better watch out.”

She was moaning desperately now, just how I’d dreamt of hearing while I was away from her, and it made my sack even heavier as it slapped against her clit with each thrust I gave. “Fuck… ‘m gonna cum, sweetheart. Do you want it? Say you want my cum in your pretty little pussy, come on.”

After a gasp that followed my slap on her ass, she flipped her head back, looking at me with those fucking sultry eyes that I loved so damn much. “Please, Logan, cum inside of me. Wanna feel it dripping from me, please, I need it so bad.” And this is why I was convinced she was some sort of siren or whatever. The second that our eyes connected, I was fulfilling her wishes, releasing all of my milky cum inside of her throbbing pussy, as she came at the same time as me.

Once I was able to breathe again, after having thrown myself by her side on the bed, I pulled her so she’d rest her face on my chest, chuckling to myself over how much of a cuddle lover I’d become ever since we’d started sleeping together.

“Hey, Logan,” she called out my attention, making me hum in response as I looked down to find her staring up expectantly at me. “I hope you know that this goes both ways.” I blinked twice as I waited for her words to make sense to me, but before they did, she was giggling, already clarifying her meaning. “You’re mine too.”

To say that those words filled me with the happiest kind of warmth would be an understatement. I didn’t know what to say, I’d never been good at this lovey-dovey shit, so I settled for pulling her back to me again and giving her forehead a kiss.

“Believe me, darlin’... I know.”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

I'mma be selfish and ask for two if you're still taking sensory prompts 26 and 32 with either Steve or Ransom.

A/n- You get a mini one after the first, because it was a thought that wouldnt leave my mind. 

Sensory Prompts

26. The smell of Cologne/Perfume on warm skin

32. The smell of blood

You stood between Steve's thighs as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet, his hands sliding up and down the back of your thighs as you sighed looking down at him. “You're really sure about this Steve?” You wrinkle your nose, your fingers trailing along with the bristles on his jaw. “Because once I start, there is no going back.” 

He gave a soft chuckle, tilting his head to press his lips against your fingers, and arched a single brow at you. “Doll, it grows back. Mine faster than most. I have to look presentable for the video, plus I gotta wear the cowl for it. I gotta look a certain way. I promise, I will grow it right back.” He took your hand pressed against his face and  let his lips rest against your wrist, the scent of your perfume swirled in his senses warmly. Your skin was warm to his lips as they pressed his promise to your wrist, his way of securing what he said for you. 

The images the perfume brought to his mind was entirely a sinful delight to the super soldier. Memories of you underneath him, your fingers clenching the taunt muscles of his back as he surged into you, making you cry his name out with a “Fuck Steve.” Your nails would drag down his back leaving deep welts till you dug in again, whimpering out a plea of nonsense. 

“You my good girl Sweetheart” He would grunt above you, and you would nod teary eyed, your lips swollen from demanding kisses and teeth pulling out more of those moans from you. “no no Sweetheart, let me hear you.” 

Your voice would crack slightly chanting his name, and it would mingle with the smell of heated sex and your perfume rubbing into his skin while he pinned you to the mattress, loosing himself in you. 

You huffed a bit drawing him from the memories your perfume brought him, and he lifted his gaze to you, seeing that you still weren't entirely on board with this. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, you let your hands move to brace on his shoulders, wondering if a pout would make him change his resolve. It was so incredibly rare he let the hair on his face grow out, even though it was the look he knew that could drive you feral . He saved it, a weapon in his arsenal to bring you down. When he came back from weeks away, he wouldn't bother shaving before heading back to your tower apartment. Steve would sneak into bed, traveling up your body with a hunger that blew you apart, unable to be put back together till he had his fill. It would leave burns for days against the inside of your thighs and along the softness of your belly.

“I Promise?” He tried again, and you relented with a sigh, muttering under your breath while you held out your hand for the shaving cream. 

“You are making me butcher and I don’t appreciate it Steve Rogers.” you shook the canister, and squirted a hefty palm full to spread it on his face. Steve's hands continued up and down the back of your thighs, once in a while giving a firm squeeze at the bottom of your ass before resuming. You set the can aside and washed your hands before picking up the razor. 

“I really do promise Y/N.” Steve said gently while you eased the razor along his jawline, a movement you were familiar with as you’ve done this whole dance with him more times than you could count, biting your lip while concentrating. 

“Mmhm” You hummed as if you didn’t believe him while tilting his head to catch the angle correctly. He was easy in your hands, tilting back and forth as your fingers pressed to certain spots, catching hints of perfume that was making him dizzy with lust. 

“Fuck baby, you smell so damn good.” He rumbled and you chuckled softly as you tilted his head the other way to continue, halfway done now while the razor swiped away his bristles to show soft cheeks and strong jawline that tensed now and then. You smirked a bit to yourself, knowing he was trying to hold back his arousal. 

You smirked down at him, feeling like it was payback for making you have to shave off his beard, that was just starting to get full again. You draw the razor along the last stripe when your hand slipped and you felt it nick him sharply. He hissed through clenched teeth as the red marred the perfect white of leftover shaving cream. Your mind pushed back your joy and guilt riddled you as you pulled away. “Oh shit Stevie, I’m sorry.” you gasped as you went to grab a towel to press against the side of his face. 

“Doll, hey it's okay.” He reached up to take the towel from your hand and dabbed it against his face. “By far the gentlest injury i've endured.” He winked and you pulled back to let him take over. Your nostrils flared as the sharp iron tang from the bit of blood filled the small bathroom. It had been ages since you had done that, and you felt all the more guilty for it, especially since you had given him such a hard time before. 

Steve moved to a stand, tilting his face back and forth while running a palm along his cheeks a moment. “Smooth as always Doll.” Turning back to see your expression, and widened his eyes. “Doll, sweetheart its all okay. Be healed before I even leave the house.” He assured you, and he drew you into him. 

“I know, but damn it, I haven't done that in ages.” You wiggled the tip of your nose at him, and he shook his head with a laugh. 

“It happens Doll, but you know what. You can make it up to me. I still got an hour before I have to leave.” 

“How's that?” You ask, and he suddenly scooped you up, making you yelp while he left the bathroom. 

“Let me love on you till I gotta leave.” 

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

Steve followed the dark hallway, lights flickering above him as he held his shield before him. The comm in his ear buzzed with other team members checking in. Sam’s voice spoke his name, trying to get him to check in, give his coordinates. “Steve, Man come on. Dont make me send Nat in there to get you out.” 

His hand lifted to press against it. “I'm fine, get the team on the quinjet. I will be there in a moment.” 

“Steve-” Sam started, knowing that he wouldn't pull out even when he should. But Steve knew he was close, his enhanced senses picked up something the others couldn't possibly know about. The scent of your perfume. So distinctly you, Steve didn't even hesitate. He knew without a doubt you were here. And he wasn't about to leave you again. 

It was getting stronger the further down he went, speaking to Sam. “I'm not leaving her behind.” 

“Just be careful Steve… you don't know how she's changed, what they might have done to her.” 

You changed? Never. You were Steve’s girl, that one constant in his life. He steeled himself at the last door, hearing something clang behind it. He pushed the door open, the shield still held before him protection. 

The hell he walked into, he wouldn't forget it. You had a knife fisted in your hand, blood was so overwhelming all over the room, assaulting his senses that he almost couldn't smell your perfume anymore. So strong Steve could just taste metallic on his tongue as his jaw dropped in shock. 

The agent was pleading when you twirled that knife in your grasp and plunged it as hard as you could into his chest. You lifted your arm and wiped at the blood that squirted on your face, tendrils of hair curled around your face when Steve uttered your name. 

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes snapped up, almost snarling as you reached down to wrench your knife from the agent's chest. “Who the hell is Y/N?”

[se-ono-waise-ilia]

Hinata’s New Toy Chapter 2

Summary: Kiba has some new thoughts about his beloved kunoichi after her breakup with Naruto. Hinata has new thoughts about Kiba too. Mature & smutty content, NSFW.

Read chapter 1 here on fanfiction.net

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

----

Incessant knocking sounds startled Hinata as she lifted her head from her pillow. The need to squint her eyes indicated it was a sunny day, and the pounding of her head indicated she was extremely hung over. Reaching for her clock, she noticed it was 7am, Who on earth could that be?

Lifting her fingers to perform byukugan, she felt a wave of pain that went straight to her forehead, I suppose this is what peep holes are for.

Bracing her hands on the bed to push herself up, she noticed her beloved new toy was still there. Unwashed. The almost always appropriate heiress crinkled her nose in shame at the white crusty bits clinging to the silicone.

The awful sound of her door being beaten continued. The person behind it did not demonstrate the common courtesy of announcing oneself. Thinking it best to not clearly indicate she was home, she silenced the groans of discomfort she yearned to make, and tip toed to the door.

"Open the door, Hyuga. I'm here on behalf of Naruto."

It was Uchiha Sasuke.

Hinata thought ill of very few people, but the one person she could say that she truly wanted to call crude and inappropriate names was Uchiha Sasuke. She never liked the way he looked down at others as a child, and envied how easy most skills came to him. After he joined Team 7, she was concerned about the way he treated Naruto, and jealous that he soaked up all her crush's attention.

Now she understood that the intense relationship between them was just a precursor to, well, their current relationship.

Then of course he betrayed the village, joined a terrorist organization, then reconnected with Naruto and was announced "good" again, but went traveling, and then came back to steal her boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, she was still correcting herself.

"Hinata," was the only explanation she got through the door.

Fortunately, there was a mirror by the door that told Hinata to re-do her bun, which she quickly did as the admittedly afraid kunoichi opened the door to the ex-terrorist/ boyfriend thief, "Uchiha-s-s-san."

Oh, how she hated how meek her voice was when she felt insecure.

The blast of cold wintery air was warmer than his presence. He look extremely inconvenienced, "Naruto said I need to apologize to you."

Hinata couldn't decipher if it was the pounding hangover headache or the audacity of this entitled man that had her internally fuming, Apologize?! For telling me to "get out" so rudely when I arrived to see Naruto. Or stealing him from me. Although, it's not like Naruto was completely innocent. He LET you act that way and it only took him over a week to decide something should be done about it. Where's Naruto then?! He's the one who was complicit in your rudeness and didn't respond to my break-up note in any way, shape or form. As if us breaking up was nothing worth discussing. Why isn't he here now, apologizing alongside you. The fucking nerve!

Alas, Hinata didn't say any of these rational thoughts. All she could muster was a simple, "Oh."

The 25-year-old wasn't one to say what she really thought regarding uncomfortable and negative situations. Avoiding personal confrontations was a key part of her social strategies (work related confrontations were another matter, the structure of the ninja work culture made her feel more comfortable voicing her opinions). And when involved in a social confrontation of the harsh sort, her strategy was to say or do anything to deescalate the problem at hand to make the entire confrontation go away as quickly as possible, even at her own expense.

So no, she regrettably did not demand answers regarding Naruto's absence in this matter, nor did she call Uchiha Sasuke the asshole that he was, is, and will forever be.

He seemed irritated at the awkward silence that he likely thought was her fault. Hinata tried to inhale the heavy lavender scent that always permeated her apartment, but was startled to find her apartment had many other contrasting smells to it that weren't entirely calming.

Memories of last night flooded her hurting head. Feelings of embarrassment, shame, and anxiety went straight to her nervous system.

Sasuke must have notice her nose twitch amongst her other symptoms of freaking out. He sniffed, and looked repulsed, "Your apartment smells like lavender, female genitals, and dog."

The blushing nin couldn't help but nod her head in a shocked, mortified daze. She wanted to breathe heavily (three count inhale, six count exhale), but Uchiha was right. Her usually spa-like apartment did smell like ... those things. The lavender and dog notes actually weren't new. But the middle part, how embarrassing!

Scrambling her known social strategies for a way to deescalate, she chose to change the conversation to focus on someone else, "N-naruto's place smells like stale ramen and sweaty men's clothing."

It wasn't intended to be a dig, but Hinata found herself proud that it came out with that tone.

For her efforts, she was gifted the response of an agreeable scoff.

To keep this remarkably successful change in conversation going, "It's worse when he makes clones. That one time he did sexy no jutsu in the apartment, it was overwhelming."

It came out so fast she didn't even stutter. It also came out so fast, it took her a moment to realize what she had implied. With significant terror, she looked into Sasuke's eyes to see accusatory confusion, "Explain," he demanded.

Vigorously shaking her poor hungover head, "I-I-I should air out the ap-p-partment and put on proper c-c-clothes."

Suddenly, one specific memory from last night came to the forefront of her mind. She squeaked with an even higher level of mortification as she patted her shorts, No underwear, oh no, "Kiba!" she squeaked and started to fan herself as a hot flush of embarrassment took over.

She was sure Sasuke was still looking at her with unnecessary critique, but no longer cared. The fact that she gave Kiba not just her panties, but her worn post-vibrator panties, with the implicit specific purpose of him smelling them while he...

Hinata leaned against the doorframe as she started rubbing the spot in her hand that was an anxiety reducing pressure point.

"If I get Inuzuka, will you convey to Naruto I apologized... and will you explain the sexy no jutsu incident?"

She found herself staring into his mismatched eyes, blinking in confusion. He nodded, then teleported away.

What just happened? Did he leave? Or is he going to get ... oh no!

Slamming the door in a panic, she used chakra enhanced speed to open all the windows in her apartment, put all used laundry into a basket with a blanket covered over it as at least some form of scent containment, sprayed an obscene amount of perfume on it (peony scented), put the still unwashed vibrator and lube into her nightstand drawer, and rushed into a shockingly cold shower with her toothbrush. Not knowing if she'd have enough time to wash her hair, she left it up as she hastily brushed her teeth sans paste, and scrubbed herself raw with lavender & vanilla scented soap.

The aggressive knocking at her door minutes later startled her, resulting in her hair getting an unplanned rinse, Maybe it's just Sasuke. He'll have to wait at the door.

"Hinata!" shouted a voice that was absolutely not Sasuke's, "Are you OK?! This asshole pulled me out of bed and said you needed me. I'm coming in!"

Informing Kiba of of the location of the emergency key was now a deeply regrettable decision.

Hinata managed to hastily throw on her luckily modest bathrobe before Kiba burst through the door. Then the bathroom door. Only garbed in pants.

He sniffed her, gave her a quick body scan, turned off the shower, then grabbed her cheeks with his warm hands to aim her face up towards his, "Are you OK?"

Even though her cheeks were already flushed with the exertion of prepping her apartment and the cold from both the open windows and the freezing shower, Hinata knew she was likely turning a strange mix of blue and beet red, Kiba cares about me and he's so handsome.

These observations weren't new to Hinata. Kiba has always cared for her safety, and he was objectively a ruggedly handsome man with an intentional curation of impressive muscles. But since last night, Hinata all of a sudden felt attraction to these qualities.

"Hinata-chan?" Kiba asked again, rubbing her loose wet tresses out of her face with his gentle fingers.

Gulping, she managed to nod. Her shirtless friend let out a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, He was actually worried something had happened to me. It was just a misunderstanding. I'm sorry you felt scared on my behalf, Kiba.

She felt herself sink into his warm and dry body, feeling the dusting of chest hair tickle her cheek.

"Our deal?" Sasuke interrupted their moment. Hinata truly hated that man. As much as she loved that this weird situation brought Kiba to hold her, the poor nin had to run through the cold without shoes nor a top in fear that something was wrong.

I never agreed to any deal with you, you presumptuous rude man. You never even actually apologized. And I have no desire to discuss your sex life now or ever. I hope Naruto spills boiling hot ramen on you. A whole bowl, she mentally insulted him with all her might.

Alas, she kept it all inside. A growl vibrated from Kiba's chest as he tightened his grip on Hinata. Honestly, the flushed girl was more than happy to allow Kiba to demonstrate anger and resentment on her behalf, as he often did, "What the actual fuck, Uchiha?"

Hinata also appreciated that while she had extensive internal private thoughts describing her more negative expressions, Kiba was able to edit it down into concise and direct phrases.

"Tch," the awful man emoted, "Naruto sent me here to apologize-"

"And did you?!"

Sasuke paused, then directed his eyes to Hinata, "I apologize."

Kiba rolled his eyes, "Asshole."

Hinata couldn't help but nod in agreement against Kiba's delightfully firm pecs.

"Hinata, please explain the other part now."

"What's this fucking deal?" Kiba barked at him, tightening his hold on her. Possibly in a protective manner, or affectionate. Or both. Either way, Hinata was in heaven being held by a shirtless Kiba who was also talking back to the scariest ninja in the world without a hint of fear.

Sasuke narrowed his mismatched eyes, "She accepts my apology and gives me information, in return she indicated a need for you."

"Me?" was the detail he prioritized. Burying her head into his chest seemed like the best response. Her hands may or may not have found a comfortable resting position on his obliques.

"I have places to be, Hyuga," it sounded like Sasuke was gritting his teeth in annoyance. In Kiba's arms, she felt safe ignoring him.

Kiba growled during most conversations, but he was particularly consistent in this one, "No, she does not accept your apology. Not like yours matters to her anyway. Naruto's the negligent ex-boyfriend who didn't appreciate her, and let his new boyfriend toss her to the curb on his behalf. Fuck you, Uchiha. Go deep throat Hinata's ex."

Kami, did Hinata want to drag Kiba's face down to her face and give him the hottest kiss of her life, like the ones she reads about in romance novels. And her robe would just happen to fall off during this steamy kiss.

The aroused girl wanted to keep this fantasy going, but she knew if her body reacted, Kiba would definitely smell it. So she finally looked to Sasuke, and felt all sexy vibes disappear.

Sasuke didn't seem affected by Kiba's excellent speech, nor did he leave. He was doing that thing where he glares at people while thinking through his next move. Always intimidating, even when he's simply thinking.

Kiba had no time for that, "Kami Uchiha, what will it take for you to not be a prick to Hinata and leave?"

Folding his arms, "For the information I seek from Hinata, I will use more courtesy in the future."

Then he scanned Kiba's body with a look of ... appreciation?

"Is there any practical application of exercising your body to feature that many abdominal muscles?"

Kiba must have been surprised, as Hinata had to restrain a whimper of loss when he separated his sinewy body from hers to look at his own stomach. Not growling for the first time in this conversation, "Ninjas don't really benefit that much more from them, I just do the extra exercises and diet to make them look this way," he eyed Sasuke mischievously, "You checkin me out, Uchiha? What will Naruto think of that?"

Sasuke blushed, and it was Hinata's absolute favorite face he had ever made. And then he pouted, pouted, as if his pride withheld him from saying what he really wanted to say.

"Full offense to your pride intended, I'll teach you the exercises some other time if you leave," Kiba grinned as if he was absolutely confident in his ability to win this confrontation.

With extreme reluctance and minimal eye contact, Sasuke nodded.

Kiba made a shooing motion, but not before Sasuke looked to her with expectance.

Covering her face with her hand, "Just have him do the jutsu, but stay in his male form."

Sasuke only blinked with a "Hmm," before teleporting away.

"He's the actual worst," Kiba sighed, "but having him check me out was the weirdest ego booster. Is it OK if I hate him slightly less for it?" He looked to Hinata for approval.

She embraced the chance to blatantly check out Kiba's body herself.

Kami, he is ripped. In her line of work, she's exposed to fit men all the time. But Kiba...he did the most creative sorts of crunches to sculpt his body.

She felt her mouth salivating as her eyes drifted further down to where a V shape made an arrow to his manhood. The trail of hair helped guide the way, but that V...

She noticed he shivered, and realized all her windows were open and wintery air was coursing through her apartment. Shaking herself out of her inappropriate staring, "C-c-ccould you c-c-close the w-w-w-windows while I-I-I get-t-t dressed?"

Her stuttering was doubled by the clattering of her teeth as she felt ice-like hair penetrate her skin and frigid air wrap around her exposed skin.

He shook his head in a dog-like manner, and left to do her bidding.

The freezing girl shuffled and shivered to her bedroom and closed the door. The need to be warm overcame her sexual cravings that had dominated this past week. Ripping through her dresser, she donned her warmest shirt (dark purple), leggings (light purple), and socks (sparkly dark purple). The long-sleeved shirt clung to her curves in a flattering manner, so she resisted to the urge to cover herself with a heavy sweater for the possibility of ... does Kiba like my body? I don't quite know if he covered his eyes last night, oh Kami, why did I do that?

Her hair was an inconsistent mess of wet and dry, so she restyled it into the thousandth messy bun of this week.

Worried for the comfort of her half-naked teammate, she went to the travel section of her closet to pull out an extra change of clothes for Kiba. He used to have this endearing habit of forgetting climate changes when they traveled as genin, and Hinata brought backups for such occasions.

But that was when they were still teenagers. Before Kiba filled out. With broad shoulders and a trim waist. Unsure if the old black sweater and socks would fit, she hesitantly exited the safety of her bedroom in her warm monochromatic clothes.

All her windows were secure, and Kiba was in her kitchen with the kettle on the stove and his face buried in her tea box.

"I don't know if this still fits, but..."

He smiled smugly at the sweater, "You can have that, Hinata-chan," as he took the socks.

Her half-naked friend seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her and her body. Feeling slightly rejected, she chose to use a tactic she often read in her favorite steamy novels: putting on the male's clothes. She tugged the black sweater from Kiba's younger years over her head, and found it snug around the chest.

Alas, her tactic seemed to fail as he swiftly turned back to the kitchen without a second look, and brought his face unnecessarily close to the tea box. Why was he taking so long to pick his tea? Hinata then felt shame at her previous thoughts, Oh no, I'm so desperate for him to give me the savoring look I gave him earlier. Does he feel awkward about last night? We did drink a lot, and I said a lot, and I seduced him maybe a little, took off my pants and panties...

Holding her groans of embarrassment within, she used her social strategy of picking a neutral topic of conversation, "Where's Akamaru?"

Holding a bag of chamomile tea extremely close to his face, he continued to avoid eye contact, "He'll be along soon enough. I yelled to him to bring my travel bag to your place while he was growling at Uchiha," he scrunched his eyes closed and ran his non-tea-bag hand though his gorgeous bedhead, "Kami Hinata, when he showed up, I thought the worst. Uchiha is an asshat, but the missions he deals with are serious shit. More horrifying than ANBU shit. Seeing him and hearing your name..."

Hinata went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. Forgetting her attraction to this man, she simply held her teammate of near thirteen years in the most soothing manner she could think of, "I'm OK, Kiba. It was a misunderstanding. A very strange misunderstanding. I'm so sorry."

He covered her arms wrapped around his middle with one of his. Speaking with almost a whisper, "You're important to me. So important," and he gently squeezed her wrist.

Tears lined her eyes. She felt touched he cared this much about her. Hinata returned Kiba's squeeze around his middle, "You're important to me too."

The moment was sustained until the tea kettle whistled, as did Hinata's anxiety that always found ways to interfere with beautiful moments.

Her anxiety brutally made her realize she should be ashamed for desperately throwing her body at one of her dearest friends last night and earlier in her bathroom.

Kami, last night she treated him as a ticket to her next orgasm. Not the kind and caring teammate she held in her arms.

Letting go of her friend, she moved to the couch to smother her face with one of her less embroidered pillows, I did that awful thing I read about in books when the self-serving girl treats the man who's crazy about her as a dick to ride rather than a person. How shameful.

And where her anxiety failed to punish her, the miserable hangover picked up the work. In addition to the pressing headache, her stomach growled with an uncomfortable hunger for greasy and spicy food.

Fortunately, Kiba was one of the few people who was familiar with hungover Hinata. She heard a mug being set on her coaster on the coffee table, followed by the clamoring of pans and cabinets. How on earth was Kiba the better host out of the two of them? Not only has he spent years adding decor to her apartment with gifts, he also cleaned her kitchen last night for Kami's sake.

Not feeling quite closed in on by all her mental, emotional, and physical feelings, Hinata dragged her weighted blanket on top of herself and curled up into a ball.

----

The next thing she knew, she felt a tentative hand rubbing her back through the heavy blanket, the smell of spicy fried rice filling her nose. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, Did I fall asleep? Was it a dream?

Upon clearing her eyes, she was treated to the site of a shirtless Inuzuka making the table with two bowls of steaming fried rice with lots of red chili flakes decorating the surface, "Kiba?"

"You fell asleep. Itadakimasu," he chuckled at her before shoveling rice into his large, oh so large mouth.

Might as well be a dream, she mused, forcing herself to have a sip of tea and sit properly for a meal, "Itadakimasu."

The scrumptious mix of fried rice and egg with spicy seasonings allowed Hinata a period of peace she hadn't known in the longest time. Meals from these past few months have been overcome with unresolved tension, the pain of denied and buried emotions, or the misery of loneliness.

But not with Kiba. Although he didn't have the most sophisticated culinary skills, he made the basics with that laid back feeling that all too often eluded Hinata. He balanced her so remarkably well.

With that thought, about halfway through her bowl, Hinata actually did succumb to her emotions. Dropping her bowl on the table, she attempted to cover her face as hot tears poured down her cheeks and her body shook with the waves of loud sobs.

A pressure dropped the couch cushion under her as warm and safe arms enveloped her.

She didn't know if the break up had finally sunk in, that the man of her dreams was an underwhelming disappointment as a boyfriend. Or, if it occurred to her that the artificially inspired orgasms this past week via her vibrator and unrealistic romance novels had been empowering and delightful, but also a fantasy unlikely to come true.

Or, the terrifying realization that Kiba meant everything to her.

And she didn't want to treat him as eye candy, her next orgasm, her rebound, or anything of the things that she had been treating him like since last night.

She wanted him to officially be her everything. But she already fucked that up with her impulsive, drunk, and lust clouded actions.

Needing to atone, she turned her body around and wrapped her arms around his neck with a possibly suffocating hold, "Kiba!" she cried. Sorry wasn't a word worthy of his heartfelt ears regarding the way she had treated him. So she cried his name over and over again into his hair as he held her with a proportionally tight grip, his face also buried in hair. She might have considered loosening her strong grip if it weren't for the encouraging way he cupped the nape of her neck, as if telling her to stay as long as she needed.

So she stayed, and cried until her sobs regressed into deep breaths, until her tears had stained her cheeks and she found herself blinking away the few remaining, until she realized Kiba had been rubbing her back with soothing circles, until she realized his other hand was squeezing the back of her neck in an effort to ease tension, until she was able to focus on Kiba's heartbeat as a calming beacon.

She felt herself melt into his arms as the last of her tears fell. And that's how they stayed for an unmeasurable amount of time.

When she felt stiff from the way she had been clinging to him, Hinata slowly released her arms and sat back on her haunches to fix his tear stained hair. She met his eyes and was surprised to find they were lined with silver, as if he too had needed an emotional release of his own.

Hinata brushed a lone tear from his eye with her thumb, and he leaned into her touch. She felt herself breathe shakily at the intimacy of his reaction.

Kami, she wanted to kiss him. But...

Wiping her cheeks and nose with the sleeve on her other arm, "Kiba, last night was ... I don't want you to think," he looked into her eyes with the wary search for something she couldn't identify. Hinata needed to finish a sentence, so she chose the one thought that truly counted. Not an apology, a truth: "You mean everything to me."

If felt good to finally voice a vulnerable thought. Kiba had always been a safe place for those.

Kiba's animalistic eyes pierced hers, as he remained as still as she had ever seen him. And Hinata wasn't afraid to stare right back.

She felt a shiver pass through him, not unlike the one from this morning, "You are everything to me, Hinata, and I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner."

Her heart soared out of her chest.

As if he realized what he had said and implied, he retreated his hands and began to shift away from her, nervousness painting his face.

Hinata had never kissed with such urgent instinct before.

It wasn't until she felt Kiba's lips moving against hers that she came to and realized what she had done.

Retreating with an embarrassed squeak, she felt heat rush up to her ears as unfiltered thoughts poured out of her, "Kiba you mean everything to me and I don't want you to feel like a rebound because you are so much more than that and I know you caught me staring at you so many times because you have such a beautiful body and you are so handsome but that's not all you are, you cooked such a lovely breakfast and you take care of me by buying me treats for my anxiety you are the sweetest man I've ever met and I hope I didn't ruin anything by my actions last night, I can't believe I gave you my panties but I wanted you to think of me the way I began thinking of you and I would never do such a thing for anyone but you and that's because I see every part of you and adore every part of you and want to please your nose as much as I want to please the rest of you and-"

Her rant was cut off by his mouth. He kissed her as she only thought people in books could be kissed: with passion and hunger and desire. She returned in kind as she held his face with her hands.

As Hinata wondered where his hands could be, for they weren't on her, Kiba broke the kiss with heavy breathing and his own unfiltered rant, "Fuck. Wait, no, I don't mean it like that. Hinata, I'm wild about you. You mean so much to me and I don't want to fuck this up by going too fast. You're too damn good for that. I feel like I need to court you and romance you like they do in all those slow burn erotic books I privately read too. I want you, Hinata. I need you."

Hinata found her face dangerously close to his again. She finally noticed his hands were destroying two of her lovely embroidered pillows with his claws. Then her eyes followed the trail of devastatingly tendons and veins bulging from his strained forearms, to his chiseled shoulders, and sculpted chest, "Fuck, Hinata, when you look at me like that, it makes me want to touch you. I know I shouldn't say this, but...I want to..." he bit his tongue to hold back.

Nothing in the world existed but Kiba and his evident desire for her, and she hadn't even looked down yet.

Taking it slow sounded like a practical idea. In theory.

In reality, she desperately needed to know what he wanted. Leaning forward and again cupping his face in her hands, she simply kissed him, lips against lips, no movement, inhaling via the nose, heavenly. Parting with barely any space between their lips, "Tell me," she ordered.

His eyes roamed to her mouth, to her neck, her her chest, to the place between her legs. Her sitting position on her heels kept her legs closed, keeping the scents on her arousal safely trapped. For now.

He seemed to only be capable of vocalizing a defeated whine.

Hinata knew this was a moment to prove she could take it slow, to make Kiba feel like he meant more to her than a spontaneous fuck. If Kiba and her were serious about this, which she knew in her heart they were, she could take it slow. She would.

As she placed one foot on the floor, opening her legs. She heard the fabric of her long gone decorative pillows rip even further as Kiba's pupils dilated and he snarled. Snarled.

Daring a look down at his pants, she saw the physical evidence of his desire. And she wanted to snarl back.

She didn't know if she launched herself to straddle his lap or if he finally released the pillows to pull her onto him and tightly grip her backside, but the reality was that they were now breathing each other's air as their bodies ground together. The barrier of clothes didn't stop the wondrous pleasure and excitement that coursed through them.

This rubbing was so intense it had Hinata's jaw loose and fingers weak as she rode her man. Kiba's strong and controlling grip had her moving up and down his length at just the right pace. His teeth were bared as his forehead almost touched hers, and Kami did it turn her on.

"Kiss me," she moaned. She felt his mouth capture hers, hot and claiming. It slid to her jaw, her neck. Then she felt claws pierce the fabric of her leggings with an erotic pressure against her skin.

Then she felt it. That crawling sensation through her body starting from her core that indicated she was on the edge, "Inuzuka," she whimpered. His face arrived in her line of sight, and his eyes were full of lust and adoration as she came undone.

Everything stilled except the hands that continued her movements against him, as she felt her brain connect to her center in a burst of pleasure that had her gasping.

Draping her arms over his shoulders as the glorious sensations lessened, the instinct to please him took over and she leaned in to bite his earlobe and whisper, "Inuzuka, cum."

She found herself on her back with his arms wrapped tight around her. He thrusted into her, hard. He tilted his head to gaze at her, eyes half-lidded, and she watched him experience his own mind blowing orgasm.

When his body ceased its jerking motions, he shifted his weight to the side to rest his head on her breast as they both just breathed. She lazily played with his hair. He slowly rubbed her hip bone.

Then there was scratching at the door with a recognizable bark.

Neither of them made a motion to move.

Another bark. Kiba half heartedly shouted, "Give me a minute."

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her, a goofy smile plastering his face. She giggled back at him, and leaned up to meet his lips with an appreciative and happy kiss. She felt him grinning as he nearly collapsed his body on hers, if it weren't for the third bark. Kiba ignored it as he peppered her jaw with kisses.

Feeling exceptionally happy yet also concerned for her dearest canine friend, "Kiba, Akamaru might be getting cold!" She chided while her fingers betrayed her, weaving their way through his messy hair. His mouth found one spot at the juncture of her jawbone that made her want to squirm.

"The Hokage wants to see us," A flat-toned Shino said through the door, immediately quelling their affectionate activities. She motioned for them to get up, and he pouted.

Slithering off the couch, she made her way to the door as he covered his stained pants with her blanket.

The mirror informed her that her already messy hair was officially a disaster, especially the back part that had rubbed against her couch cushion. But it was just Shino, so she took the hairband out as she answered the door to let her two teammates in.

"There's been a change in our mission squad, and we are to report to Hokage-sama," Shino greeted them in his usual business-first, mannerisms-second style, "Good morning. Did Kiba sleep over?"

Hinata was attempting to fix her hair by brushing and braiding it, "No, he arrived early this morning for unexpected reasons."

Kiba held the travel pack Akamaru gave him strategically over his front as he made his way to the bathroom, "I thought Hinata was in trouble. False alarm. Uchiha Sasuke's an asshole."

"Kiba stayed to make me breakfast, and then..." She felt herself blushing. Should Kiba and her remain discrete? But Shino is their teammate, and deserves to know about the change in their relationship for a variety of reasons. Yet, the idea of announcing their confessions and activities so casually didn't seem quite right.

Fortunately, Shino's blunt perceptions saved her the hardship of handling the situation, "I see. You two are good for each other."

Smiling shyly, she put on her ninja sandals as Kiba came out with his usual ninja garb. They made eye contact, and the tension between them brought her to him. She felt her face smile widely without her consent as he leaned down to nuzzle their cheeks together and he whispered in her ear, "We'll talk later," she felt his nose twitch, "As much as I adore this scent, I won't be able to focus around the Rokudaime."

"Oh, of course!" she squeaked as she took off her sandals and dashed into the bedroom for fresh panties and pants. Speaking of which, she was reminded that these leggings now had claw marks in a quite noticeable place. Biting her lip, she put them and her panties to the side to give to Kiba later.

----

Fuck, was it hard to focus on the Hokage when Hinata was fiddling with her braid oh so cutely.

The memories of last night at her place, last night when he was in his room, and this morning on the couch flooded his brain. Most significantly, the confession of how much they meant to each other.

But that's the part he's trying to comprehend with as much maturity as possible: she cares about him on an emotional level, but her body is pretty much in heat.

Kiba knows what he wants with absolute certainty: Hinata.

But he doesn't want a fling, or a short term relationship. He wants her for the long run, and he wants it to be romantic as fuck.

Here's the problem: although she doesn't want to treat him like a rebound, her body is showing all the signs of a person who's craving some fantastic fucking.

Could Kiba do that? Yes, but it would ruin his long game strategy of the cliche slow burn plan. He wants his relationship with Hinata to be like one in his romance books. Which he realized he admitted he reads to Hinata during his rant this morning.

Yes, he reads romantic and erotic novels. They are very entertaining and educational. As a teen, is mom and sister not only gave him the talk about safe sex, but also a talk about how to have good sex. And reading about it via these books was his favorite way to up his game.

Admittedly, their dry humping this morning threw off his plan. But damn, it felt amazing. He also owed Hinata some new embroidered pillows.

"Hinata is to be removed from your upcoming mission. We will place another sensory nin on your team to compensate," The Rokudaime's words shocked Kiba into focus.

"Why the sudden change? We leave tomorrow," Shino questioned.

Kakashi sighed, "Apparently, the Hyuga clan have been invited to the Winning-of-the-War anniversary event in the Cloud a month early. As a gesture to make amends for past conflicts, among other agendas," he stared as the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with his subordinates.

Kiba looked to Hinata, who was staring back at him. Her face indicated she had no idea about this invitation. She blinked her eyes at him with a hint of disappointment.

She was going to miss him.

Then her eyes drifted further down his form, and she let out a wistful sigh.

...And his body. Kiba never thought there would be a day when he wanted to shake Hinata out of her sex-crazed state. But here he was. Simultaneously turned on and resentfully objectified. Is this how girls feel when he hits on them with hookup intentions? Now he gets it.

----

The day progressed with Shino and Kiba working with their replacement team member, Yamanaka Ikuyo, while Hinata went to her father discuss her family vacation to Kumo.

Kiba hoped she started the conversation with, "What the fuck?"

He chuckled and continued his day dream while Shino went over their usual team formations and adjusted them to the Yamanaka's sensory style. Ikuyo seemed to be a seasoned pro, and was excited to have a detective style mission, so her motivation made her easy include on their plans.

The sun was setting after a long day of planning, so Ikuyo parted from them to independently study the mission scrolls and her new teammates strengths. Kiba didn't understand such a level of discipline, but appreciated it as it gave him an excuse to invite himself over to Shino's for dinner. Bug boy didn't mind.

Even though they all had clan households they could reside in, modern Konoha culture had this new trend of adult ninja taking a few years to live on their own before settling back into clan households for good. Kiba was the first on Team 8 to get his own place, Hinata followed suit with tremendous encouragement. But Shino didn't lean into the trend. He hated feeling left out of social things with his friends, and the possibility of being left out of family events made him even more depressed. So he happily resided in the Aburame household.

Which was the safest place for Kiba to go. Hinata and Kiba would only be in the same village for one more night before her trip. Such a one-night-only situation was the ideal vibe for a steamy and desperate sex-fest. Which sounded spectacular and like the night of his dreams.

Unfortunately, it would not only ruin his long game of romancing Hinata properly, but it may also ruin their romantic potential entirely. And that idea scared the shit out of Kiba.

What if after a glorious night, Hinata felt like she got-it-out-of-her-system? What if they didn't talk afterwards, and she went to Kumo thinking they are now just casual fuck buddies? What if it enabled her to see him as only a sexual object, and not a viable romantic partner? Or what if she did what she said what she wouldn't do: treat him as a rebound, and then after a month apart, she just wouldn't be interested in him?

These insecure thoughts plagued him every time he drifted into a day dream of all the ways he wanted to touch her, and all the ways he fantasized about her touching him. Instead of playing attention to Ikuyo's explanation of her skills (he would figure it out in real-time), his thoughts alternated between sexy images, the consequences of them sleeping together too soon, and then the best part: what if he stuck to his plan and he truly had everything.

Visions of endless handholding in the village, cuddling in her spa-like apartment, walking Akamaru together at sunset, buying her fresh flowers, moving in together and taking care of her, cooking for her his greasy friend rice whenever she wanted, saving money to buy her a very special and very dainty piece of jewelry...

Those were the fantasies that made Kiba feel invigorated, motivated, and most seldom seen: disciplined. He would stay with Shino tonight as an extra measure, maybe write Hinata a romantic note, and dream about her for a month until he could truly have his shot with her.

Maybe this month apart would be a good thing. She'd have a respectable amount of time to get over the break-up with Naruto, simmer down her rebound seeking sex drive, and then he could commence with his ultra-romantic slow burn plan. Just like in the books.

Just as Kiba was feeling confident in his fantasies and plans while drinking tea with Shino on his porch, all was foiled when Hinata landed in front of them.

"Tea?" Shino offered without a second thought. Kiba was clenching the edge of the porch, trying not to mouth breathe as he stared at the woman of his dreams, who was wearing a lovely yukata reserved for clan meetings. A yukata that had fallen off one shoulder with the abruptness of her landing.

"Yes, please," she replied in a frustrated manner. Not frustrated at them, but by the the undoubtably disagreeable meeting she had with her family. She took her graceful body to lean against a nearby pillar, and stare at the night sky.

The silvery light of the moon bounced off her milky skin, and Kiba wanted to confess all his desires to her in that moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Shino helpfully offered as Kiba unhelpfully gazed at his angelic beauty.

Said angel shook her head, "I'd rather not,"

Her eyes then met Kiba's, and the tension from this morning snapped into place. It felt like slow motion when she stood up straight, walked to him, and offered temptation, "Walk me home?"

Yes, of course. He'd do anything she asked. He'd walk her home, kiss her forehead goodnight at her door. Kiss her neck goodnight her living room. Kiss her lips goodnight as he languidly made love to her under the moonlight streaming through her bedroom window.

He found himself falling into these fantasies as he stood in front of her, staring into her twin moon-lit eyes, showing how much she yearned for this as much as he did.

"Kiba requested to stay here tonight," Shino interrupted. The emotional nin wanted to simultaneously throttle him and shower him with thanks.

Hinata's eyes drifted to Shino, then back to Kiba's in confusion.

Shino, never failing to bluntly insert his perceptions into awkward moments, "I don't think he wants to be your rebound hookup before you leave for a month. That would hurt his feelings."

Even though every word out of his friend's mouth was the truth, it made Kiba lower is eyes in shame that he couldn't find those words for himself. Hell, if it weren't for Shino, he might go home with her to avoid telling her how he really feels.

"Oh..."

Then an unexpected pain hit Kiba's chest. She didn't deny any of Shino's words. No matter how much they meant to each other, the reality was that the timing of their feelings of affection overlapped with Hinata's desires of needing a validating night of sex.

Kiba went to Akamaru, who was lounging against the house. He sat cross legged next to his beloved partner, and pet him in a self-soothing manner.

Shino didn't stop being blunt, "Hinata, although you and Kiba are good for each other, perhaps now is not the time to kindle such a serious relationship, considering you and Naruto only broke up a week ago."

He could feel her grow uncomfortable with the unwanted observations and advice. Kiba wanted to pummel Shino for saying such cutting truths, "Shino, enough," he growled under his breath.

But Kiba couldn't face this anymore. Now was the time to wish Hinata well, give her a platonically affectionate wave, and leave to the guest quarters.

Standing up and forcing his face into his classic arrogant look, "We have a mission first thing, Hinata-chan. Shino and I are a bit caught off guard not having you with us. We'll miss you."

Whistling to Akamaru, "We'll say goodnight, and see you in a month after you show those Cloud nin how badass the Hyuga clan are," he forced out a wink and a toothy grin.

But then he noticed her eyes were welling with tears, and he felt his own eyes begin to water as well. They would figure it out after her mission. Dropping the inauthentic arrogance, he allowed himself to use a more affectionate tone, "See you later then."

Oh, how he wanted to hold her. But he knew if he did, he wouldn't let go without revealing his most vulnerable thoughts. So, he turned away from her with a wave.

"Kiba!" she cried before her scent surrounded him just before her arms did.

His hands instinctively covered hers as she held him from behind as she did this morning. After telling her she means everything to him. He interlaced their fingers together and squeezed. He felt tears through the back of his shirt, "Kiba, I-I-I didn't mean to treat you like that. P-P-Please forgive me."

He didn't know how much more his heart could take today, "It's OK, Hinata. I understand," he found one of her anti-anxiety stress points on the inside of her arm, and rubbed it gently.

She pressed harder against his back, and he wasn't going to let go of her arms until he knew she had recovered.

"Kiba, maybe when I've returned, you and I could..."

Before he knew what he was doing, he used one of her arms to bring her to his front, one hand cupping her cheek, the other holding her hand against his heart, "No way am I gonna let you say that now. When I get to Cloud for the celebration, you and I are gonna party our asses off and drink all their good sake," He saw a hint of smile on her face, "And when we get back to the Leaf, I'm gonna ask you out on a proper date. It's gonna be romantic as fuck."

She leaned her cheek into his hand and gifted him with a lovely smile. For the second time today, he brushed residual tears from her cheeks with his thumb. He wanted to end it there, but he sudden'y realized that there was one important thing that she should know, "And while you are in Cloud," he took a shaky breath and stepped away from her. He couldn't hold her for this next part, "You recover from ... that guy... however it makes sense to you. It's OK."

In other words, he was encouraging her to find a rebound there. The details of what that would mean made him sick to his stomach. But it would be OK, because he would ask her out in a month and they would have their chance then.

That's at least what he told himself.

Her eyes did that thing where she looked concerned with eyebrows scrunched together and up, eyes big and blinking, lower lip jutted out in protest. Yet she managed to nod in understanding.

He wanted to run away and destroy something. But he couldn't let that be their last interaction. Grounding himself with the thought of their first date to come, "What kind of flowers would you like?"

Oh, the things those fluttering lashes did to him. His angel smiled up at him, "Peonies."

Not trusting himself to say anything else, he nodded and returned her smile.

"I'll walk you home, Hinata," Shino's timing was often too on the nose, and Kiba was grateful.

She nodded to him, then looked back to Kiba. After a moment of thought, she grew on her tip toes to lean into him. He didn't dare move as she gave him a tender and warm kiss on the cheek. And then, the new light of his life was off with Shino.

He didn't know how much time had passed between when he was standing and when he was on his knees. At some point, Akamaru sat in front of him and pressed his head against Kiba's.

It was probably only 24 hours since she gave him those perfumed panties. And somehow a day later, he felt like he had given her his heart. Kiba shrugged against Akamaru's fur, "Not quite the romance in the books seen in books, but we'll get there."

Akamaru gave a bark of agreement.

----

A/N What a day in the life of Kiba and Hinata!

So, this story might be longer than the originally intended three chapters. Oops. I have the next chapter half written. The smut tho... yeah.

Also, the way Sasuke checked Kiba out?! The thought of them being work out buddies brings me so much joy. It's like a bro-style crackship.

Reviews please!

[dva-xo]

Dressing for the Occasion (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Summary: Modern AU Arthur sits back and admires reader as she gets ready for a night out. FLUFF ENSUES

————

“Alright, darlin’. I’m ready.” 

You looked in the mirror and saw Arthur standing in the bathroom doorway, buttoning his cuff links. His hair was swept back and his face was clean shaven. The white fabric of his dress shirt stretched across his broad chest as he put on the black jacket of his tuxedo. 

You turned around to straighten his bow tie. “Alright, give me a few minutes to finish up.” He nodded and planted a kiss on your forehead. 

It had been quite some time since you both enjoyed a night out, so when you got an invite from your friend to attend the Mayor’s Annual Charity Ball, you jumped at the opportunity. You cherished any excuse to wear heels and an evening gown. Arthur, however, wasn’t as excited. He enjoyed simple nights out, either trips to the movies or dinner at a steakhouse. Plus, he wasn’t too big on getting dressed up, especially for something as extravagant as a ball. Nevertheless, he knew how eager you were to attend, so he happily agreed when you asked him. 

Knowing that you liked to take your time getting ready, Arthur suspected that you might take more than a few minutes to finish up. He took a seat on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, which had a clear view of the bathroom mirror and the counter where you kept your makeup. He’d sometimes joke with you about how long it took you to get ready, but secretly, he loved it. He loved watching you completely immerse yourself in the process—the way you expertly used brushes, powders, and other things he couldn’t name to enhance your natural features, like artwork. He personally thought you were plenty beautiful without makeup, but he knew how much you loved getting dolled up, and it always warmed his heart to watch you do something you loved. 

You had already curled your hair and applied most of your makeup. All that was left was your lipstick. You reached into a drawer and pulled out deep red shade. You opened your mouth slightly and applied it slowly. Once you were finished, you pressed your lips together to make sure the color was even. 

Arthur’s favorite part was the lipstick. He loved watching you move with such intricacy, careful not to make any stray marks. His eyes focused on your lips as you pressed them together before revealing the final product—soft, sweet, and sexy. Although he appreciated how you managed to keep the color perfectly within your lip line, he couldn’t help but think of how beautiful you would look with red smeared across your mouth as a result of him kissing you.

As you continued to get ready, Arthur let his eyes wander over your body. The curls of your hair cascaded down your back, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to run his hands through them. The long evening gown you wore fit like a glove. It was a solid shade of black with sleeves made of rose-patterned lace, and had a part on the right side that began around mid-thigh. The soft fabric fit snug around your hips, and your ass became more defined as you leaned closer to the mirror to put on your earrings. As he stared at you in complete adoration, impure thoughts began to fill his head. After a while, he stood up from his chair and made his way over to you. 

You reached for your perfume and swept your hair to the side to spray your neck. You saw Arthur in the mirror, approaching you slowly from behind. He stole a quick glance at your ass before wrapping his arms around your waist. You set the perfume bottle back on the counter, and put your arms over his. He leaned in to nuzzle your neck, and took a deep breath in. He basked in the sweet scent of your perfume and placed a kiss on your shoulder. 

You felt his lips trace a line up your neck until they reached your ear. In a soft, deep voice, he whispered, “Y’know darlin’, there’s bound to be plenty of people at this party. Do you really think we’d be missed?”

You let him continue to plant kisses on your neck as you responded, “Arthur, you know that we’ve had this planned for weeks.”

His hands began to explore your body. “Well sweetheart, my plans have changed.”

As Arthur pulled you in tighter, you became enveloped in his warmth and leaned your head back against his shoulder. You could feel his growing arousal against your hip, and you knew that if you gave into him now, you’d never make it to the Mayor’s Ball. 

You closed your eyes and indulged in the sensation. You heard Arthur chuckle, as he no doubt was watching your reaction in the mirror, enjoying the effect he had over you. 

His kisses on your neck became more sensual and you nearly gave into to him completely. However, you snapped yourself out of it at the last minute, and spun around to face him. 

“Arthur,” you laughed, “we’re going.” 

He shook his head and gave a sweet smile. “Well darlin’, with how beautiful you look tonight, you can’t blame me for tryin’.”

You grabbed his chin and gave him a quick kiss. “Well, maybe we can leave early if we come up with a good reason.”

Arthur’s face broke into a wide smile as he reached for your coat. He held it open for you to put on, and replied, “I’ll start thinking of excuses.” 

———— Notes: So, this was basically a self-indulgent fic that gave me an excuse to think of Arthur in his tux. Shoutout to @verai-marcel for being so supportive as I try my hand at writing. 

[zombiiesque]

Nocturne Alchemy Summer Tea Collection

Originally published 6/1/2016

Late, so late. I know. I was supposed to post this the other day, but then the holiday happened (Memorial Day, which is actually like a 3 day weekend for us here in America), and then I expected to get home before the update today, but fate had other plans. Sooo it's 11:30 at night and I shall try to get this done without falling asleep on my keyboard. Fingers crossed aye? Hah! I do apologize.

So last year, NA released the most delightful collection, the Summer Tea collection, and it also included the sub-collection Tea Service. There were seven Teas, and five Tea Service perfumes. I have three of each, and I hope my review will help a little - can I just say, buy everything because it's amazing? No? Okay! Well, here we go. (Kidding, only not, it really is amazing.)

I'll start with the three main collection scents. Green Tea Crimson notes are: Hints of Fresh Green Tea leaves infused with Lemon Zest and tempered with the soothing effects of Crimson Red Egyptian Musk. In the bottle I'm getting something fresh, tart. Slightly citrus but not overpowering. Ooo. Wet on my skin, yes. Fresh green tea, the lemon in the background but not overpowering, just adding a bit of zing. The red musk is there but it's not the key note, it's supporting, so it's soft. Dry, okay can I just go ahead and tell you this is my favorite, hands down? It's so bright and fresh, it has a bit of tartness from the lemon, but that makes it pretty perfect. It's very obviously green tea and it never becomes about the musk, but the musk saves it from being too tart, this is sooo well balanced. I actually like wearing this alone at times, but I often pair it with Sugarcube even though any of the other Tea Service blends would go well with this. Absolutely AMAZING.

Luxor Lemon was a bottle I blind bought, I actually initially picked up decants for all of these except Luxor Lemon - and I'm not really sure why I skipped it, but I remedied that when I did my bottle order, and I am glad I did! Notes are: An afternoon Earl Grey with a side of lemon, this one would benefit from a side of vanilla-honey. Italian lemon peel and Bergamot EO are infused into the tea giving it a citrus bite that is both cured and beautifully soothing with a drop of Sweet Santalum Milk or any of the Summer Tea Service. In the bottle, this is pretty much straight oooo LEMON. Hah. Tart, yellow lemon. I'm not getting any tea yet. Wet on my skin, we now have lemony Earl Grey. Yum!! Okay, now that this has dried down, it settles into, well, stunning! The lemon and the Earl Grey are perfectly balanced. The bergamot is just adding to the citrus. It's bright and summery. If you like honey, I think it would do well with Vanilla Honey. I don't have this, so I usually pair it with Coconut Milk, but I recently acquired Sweet Santalum Milk and I like that even better - although as with Green Tea Crimson, I think any of the Tea Service would compliment this - Sugarcube is definitely a lovely addition. So my last Tea is White Tea Vanilla. I think this one is pretty popular, judging from what I saw in the Tent last year! Notes are: Beautiful, ethereal, and crisp White tea enhanced with limestone amber resin, undertones of Crystalline and Kobalt vanilla and fresh mallow root to sweeten naturally. In the bottle - crisp white tea, vanilla, and something very fresh. Wet on my skin, amber! Ooo amber and white tea. The vanillas are not overpowering, they are supporting . This is so crisp and fresh. Dry, this is a delight. It remains crisp and fresh, with soft, floaty vanilla. And this is interesting, it almost feels like there's a soft white musk in here, although it's not listed. Maybe it's just the culmination of all the notes dried to perfection, you know how sometimes at the end of the drydown phase with NAVA a perfume will just kind of stop swirling and flop into perfection? I think it could just be that. This is actually quite yummy, I kind of want to drink it. I often wear this one alone, but a dab of Coconut Milk is pretty delicious with this.

Okay, I literally just woke up on my keyboard. I think I will post this as a two-parter and review the Tea Service in the morning for you lovely folks!

I will just go ahead and say, I love my resins, my dark and hippy scents, but this collection is absolutely perfect when I want a bit of fresh, bright scent in the hot Florida summer. I used these quite frequently last summer and they really garnered a lot of compliments - and my guy was pretty appreciative of them as well! So thank you for being patient with me, and as soon as I get home tomorrow morning I will post the second part.

[ancientbrit]

Natters # 15 &16   06/09/2015

Subject: MI MG Natters #15 &16, June 9th 2015 Date: June 9, 2015 11:40:00 PM PDT  Friday's clinic, two weeks ago, put us back in the numbers again. A lovely day with just Sam and me in attendance. We had a sudden rush arriving after 5:00 pm - our closing time, but we were able to get them all answered to the clients satisfaction - thank goodness.  One lady from Israel (our second ) had been given some spurious information about growing conditions in Washington State, on which we were glad to set her straight. Her only growing experience to date had all taken place in Israel, which is obviously a wee bit different to Mercer Island. But I was able to reassure her, that yes indeed, Cyclamen do very well here, at which she was delighted. We talked about becoming a MG and she was much taken with the thought and she will be checking back with us at the Farmers Market, due to start on the 7th of June. One gentleman coming out of Rite Aid with an armful of plants stopped to ask if there was anything that would get rid of powdery mildew on zucchini. He had it last year and wasn't able to do anything for it. In fact there were a lot of clients who had experienced the same problem which also effected most of the cucurbits outside. At the time I could only offer the word that a solution of sodium bicarbonate is sometimes effective, although it wasn't very strong.  Then when I was visiting Bellevue Nursery this week, I saw an item labelled 'Green Cure', which uses  Potassium bicarbonate combined with a spreader sticker to enhance the fungicidal properties. It apparently kills powdery mildew & other plant diseases on contact with up to two weeks of residual protection. The literature lists 25 different diseases that are controlled and describes how it does it. On the literature, among those giving enthusiastic support to 'Green Cure' is an Advanced Master Gardener in Brookfield, CT. I am growing pumpkins and zucchini this year, so I am going to try it for myself. What a nice thought to find something like this that actually works. It is odorless, mixes & fully dissolves in water to spray, does not accumulate in the soil, is compatible with many beneficial insects and fruits & vegetables can be harvested an hour after spraying. Jean's favorite tree, Styrax japonica, now in its sixth year, is about twelve feet high and I find to my surprise that it is hugely fragrant. I didn't know that! The scent is fantastic and the whole tree is alive with bees all day - what a bonus. Give it another year or two and I will be able to remove some of the lower branches and it will be giving the shade it was planted to produce. A beautiful tree! This is Clem-a-tis "Romantika - a new one from Estonia I bought earlier this year and in bloom last Saturday for the first time. Although the color here looks great, it doesn't really do justice to the way it really looks. The main color is almost black and that lighter color bar along the center of the tepal is a deep ruby-red with a shimmer that makes it looks like velvet which has been caught here - quite incredible. A beautiful flower. ( I am sorry that processing this way does not allow the production of pictures) My Cardiocrinums are having a strange year. One I planted two years back shot up to about 7 feet high and is now in bloom.  One of three 'pups' from my original, started to move a little after the big brother next door, but it has barely reached three feet high and is also in flower - not exactly a giganteum by any stretch of the imagination. I not sure exactly what I have here, but I will be keeping an eye on it. Looking at them today I had a sniff of their lovely perfume, but there was something else on the air which didn't appeal at all. It didn't smell at all like my compost pile, which only has a vegetable smell. This was quite rank - and then I almost trod on a dead Mole! It was just laid out on my footpath and I have no idea who I have to thank for this nice gesture, whether it was a gift from Pickle or the new cat next door or dropped by a crow - which doesn't seem too likely. Whatever, one must be grateful for small mercies - and I am. This has all taken longer to assemble than I had thought, so I will combine the last Rite Aid clinic with the first Farmers Market clinic on Sunday. Our last Friday at Rite Aid clinic this year was sort of crowded with four of us - Karin, Carin, Janet and myself, but it was a good day. When we weren't satisfying clients we were able to talk about various gardening topics and other fascinating subjects. We find frequently that some RA costumers assume that we are 'with' RA and we get drawn into helping them make choices of plants and I don't feel badly about this - it is about the only way we can really say how we appreciate RA's allowing us to store our stuff there all year - apart from our donating cookies, etc to their lunchroom, which is really appreciated. We always try to place one or three plants from RA's display on our desk to attract our clients. But all of a sudden there appeared a pot of 'Snow on the Mountain' aka 'Bishops Weed'. Karin had placed it there as she knows I cannot stand the stuff. She is the only person I know who has used it and never regretted the choice. She had it planted between two concrete strips along her driveway and it filled the space in nothing flat. I wouldn't trust it not to insinuate itself under the concrete into the rest of the garden, but as Karin was moving she wasn't too worried. I am still amazed that this thug is allowed on the market as it is almost impossible to remove once it gets a grip. The plain green version is Ground Elder and in England, it is a legal requirement that it be removed. Its reputation precedes it and house sales have been known to fall through when this plant is seen growing in the garden. At the Plant Sale, there had been numerous flats of a particular plant that looked okay when first divided and potted up. However, just before the actual sale, when plants were being checked, 28 of these plants had to be dumped because they were infested with Bishops Weed! There is a plant that secretes an oil in its roots which kills this darned weed. It is called Tagetes minuta and is so named for the tiny flowers it produces. The plant itself grows to about 3 feet high and is planted in and around the infestation. If left, it becomes apparent that it is working, as a roughly circular patch of dying plant appears around the Tagetes and when you check, although the weed stems are still there, they are hollow and very dead. This last Sunday was our first Farmer's Market of the season and I was joined by Joan & Janet. The weather was lovely and we were under a canopy with a constant breeze blowing through. It also seems that we have been rewarded with a permanent canopy location - right at the end of the street on the north side, with our backs to the parking lot. 'Couldn't be better, so I hope that Patty maintains our permanency there.   It is always a pleasant clinic here as we get clients returning from previous years - it is quite like old home week. One couple returned to tell me that the ivy clearance that we had recommended last year was almost completed and they were interested in growing all sorts of things from cuttings etc. I mentioned air layering in which they became very interested, so I will be bringing them some information next week. They also had grown a type of African gourd last year which they brought to show us. It had been emptied and dried and is used as a musical instrument - rather impressive as they know how to play it. I told them about the small, different shaped gourds I used to grow in England. When they were ripe they were dried, varnished and polished and Jean used to display them in a fruit bowl. They looked quite attractive. A couple of friends came to visit one weekend and they were keen gardeners but not too knowledgeable. When my friend's wife went into work the following Monday, she told her friends about their visit and about her friend 'who grows turds, which he dries and polishes and his wife displays in a fruit bowl!'  She has never been allowed to live this down! Then on Monday Becca had arranged for a load of MGs to visit Pat Roome and take a tour of her garden, which I found to be fantastic. Her veggie garden had two stands of peas, one of them about seven feet high and covered in plump pods.  Her tomatoes were up to about five feet high with fruit about 2" in diameter. Apparently, Pat had sown the seed in February and planted them out in April when she judged it unlikely that there would be any more frost - 'really got that right! The thing that really impressed me however was the number of plants she had which are the same sort of thing that I grow - just way bigger. For instance, I have a Pineapple broom which I grew from seed I took from a mature bush in Yorkshire, at the RHS gardens there.  Mine is about seven feet high - it has spent a few years in a pot which slowed it's growth somewhat! Pat's is taller than her house by several feet and is covered in blooms. I have a Chilean fire tree I bought at the F & G show, which is now five feet high. Pat's again is probably about 35 feet high with the topmost branches covered in scarlet blossoms, being visited by loads of hummers. And so it went, but how nice to see what I might expect to get in a few years' time.  One plant that she has which appealed to everybody was a perennial Nasturtium. It has a neat arrangement of five leaflets arranged somewhat like an Akebia and it was growing up the side of a large evergreen hedge. At the top it turned over into the sun and was covered in scarlet blossoms. Pat had several rooted cuttings in her greenhouse and they all were picked up by some of the MGs. Unfortunately, we had to scoot a little before the tour came to an end as we had carpooled and Bev, who was driving, had another appointment, but the whole trip was well worth it and quite honestly I don't know how Pat manages it all. I am writing to thank her for her generosity in giving her time to us all. This first Farmers Market clinic was not as frenetic as last year when Bev and I literally didn't stop the whole day, clocking about 75 clients. This year we took 40 which I thought was a nice score. People were out in force and the Market looks all set to be a constant success. Hopefully, we can increase the numbers when we get the new sandwich boards in place. We had quite a lot of people who stopped by but didn't know we would be there apparently. I am not sure why they wouldn't know as we have been there constantly since it started, but there you go. Your fearless leader, Gordon

[capsulecloset]

Beauty uniform update

It’s been a minute since I’ve done a real beauty update, and my product arsenal has kind of exploded since then.  I still don’t wash my face, but long gone are the days of just using coconut oil for everything.  I’m back on “real” shampoo.  My husband makes fun of all my “potions.”  I try to use natural products where possible, but I also can’t exclude something that just works really well.  And while it takes up more space and time now that my routine is not so minimal anymore, I’m actually pretty fine with it.  I’ve started to really enjoy and appreciate little rituals of getting ready and taking care of myself, and I love sharing the products I’ve found success with.  So without further ado, here’s what I’m using lately.

Glossier Super Pure Serum - I tried all of the Super Serums when they came out from Glossier, and this is by far the one that works best with my skin.  It’s super light and refreshing, and it’s the first thing that goes on my skin in the morning, helping to keep my skin clear.

Yes To Blueberries Face Oil - This is my favorite face oil (I also like S.W. Basics, but I tend to break out more with that).  After my Super Pure is somewhat absorbed, I seal it in with this.  I also will use this before bed if my skin is extra dry.  Note:  this is fairly heavy, so I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone who isn’t into a dewy look.

Coola Sport Sunscreen Moisturizer - I take sunscreen very seriously, and wear it every day, rain or shine.  This is my “ideal” sunscreen--it’s natural, rubs in great (much better than Coola’s Face versions), and smells nice.  However, it’s pretty pricy, so most of the time, I use Alba or Sun Bum.

Le Couvent des Minimes Everyday Deodorant - I’ve tried a lot of natural deodorants, and this is by far the most effective one I’ve found.  I don’t know if it’s entirely “aluminum free,” because it uses alum stone, but I figure it’s got to be better than the norms.  I’ve also tried The Guv’ner from Lush, which works well but is a bit messy.  And a note about switching to natural deodorants:  there will always be a period where you smell worse than you ever imagined you possibly could, because your pores are literally un-clogging.  Stick it out.  Don’t blame the deodorant.  Eventually you’ll get to a place where you’re sweating normally and you’ll find some success.

Glossier Coconut Balm Dot Com - This is a lovely simple balm that work great for chapped lips and dry skin.  I also like Eufora’s Aloetherapy lip balm and Burt’s Bees.

Mascara - I’m actually looking for suggestions for a new mascara.  I’ve used this one for years and am wondering if there’s anything natural out there that work well.  Bonus if it’s curling, because I can’t deal with eyelash curlers.

Glossier Boy Brow - My all-time favorite product.  My eyebrows are my favorite feature and this enhances them so well.  If I want to go more dramatic, I might fill in my brows first with a pencil and then use Boy Brow.

Lipsticks - I have so many favorite lipsticks, but the main ones in rotation right now are: Mac Ruby Woo + Glossier Generation G in Crush, Like, Jam, and Zip.

Dry shampoo (aerosol) - I’ll continue to test every type of dry shampoo on earth, but of the ones I’ve tried so far, Dove remains my favorite everyday/affordable option. 

R + Co. Dry Shampoo Paste - This is more of a styling product than a real dry shampoo, but it’s wonderfully volumizing and helps hold curls when I actually style my hair.

Eufora Aloetherapy Hair + Body Cleanse - My mom gifted this to me for Christmas and I love it.  It smells amazing, is super gentle, and works as both a shampoo and body wash.

Davines Alchemic Conditioner - My hairstylist turned me onto this super rich purple conditioner to use every once in a while the last time she colored my hair.  I might lay off it, though, because I’m liking having my natural warmer color come through lately.

Fur Oil - I use this oil to shave my legs and it works a lot better than conventional shaving cream for me.  It’s designed to prevent ingrown hairs.

Eufora Aloetherapy Moisturizer - This is the only body lotion I’ve ever truly loved.  It actually seems to improve my skin’s condition and keep it moisturized, rather than you making you addicted to using more and more of it.

Gold Bond Rough & Bumpy Skin Lotion - This one isn’t so glamorous, but it’s really effective (as long as you use it consistently).  I have Keratosis on my arms and this helps keep it in check.

Wet Brush - I dream of Mason Pearson, but for now this does the job.

Yes To Cucumbers Calming Facial Mask - Face masks have become a tenant of relaxation in my life.  Although this one is called “calming,” it actually leaves my skin a little bit inflamed.  It goes away and doesn’t bother me too much, but curious for any suggestions for face masks that are actually really soothing for sensitive skin.

Glossier Soothing Face Mist - My favorite thing about this product is that it’s just for me.  It’s really just the experience of how it feels and smells on my face that I enjoy, and I don’t think it actually alters my appearance in any way.  I use it after masks and when I need a little pick-me-up.

Olo Foret perfume - I got this lovely winter-y scent over the holidays, and I’m still wearing it when I want something a little sexy.  It’s fairly masculine and deep, so a little goes a long way.

Fresh Citron de Vigne perfume - This is my long-time favorite perfume, and it’s light and bright enough to wear whenever, so it’s still in the mix.

Any beauty products you love and want to share? 

[anneedmonds]

If Jo Malone Did Harvest Festival

Not since Molton Brown’s Geranium Nefertum have I spritzed a scent and really really liked it. I think that my nose has gone on strike, to a certain extent – it’s not that it can’t smell things, it just doesn’t really get that excited anymore. Not much tickles my olfactory fancy. It started when I was pregnant with my first baby, this whatever kind of attitude towards perfume, and I still don’t feel as though I’m “back in the room” when it comes to appreciating smells.

My most-used perfumes? They are all pretty low-key. I love Philosykos from Diptyque (the eau de parfum* lasts far, far longer than the toilette and is worth the extra cost), I also still use Escentric Molecules Molecule 01 (find it here*) a lot – it’s the ultimate adaptable fragrance, with just one scent molecule that smells quite different on whoever is wearing it. My favourite smell on Mr AMR? The Molton Brown Geranium Nefertum, which is (as I wrote here earlier in the year) so sexy it hurts.

Considering how many exotic, niche and horrendously premium (aka expensive) perfumes cross my path on a weekly basis, my favourites list is quite tame. I’d add some Le Labo, I’d add the Oud & Bergamot by Jo Malone and I’d maybe throw in a little bit of Tom Ford’s Soleil Blanc, despite it being out of season, but it’s really not a wild and wicked list.

Anyway, I’ve digressed hugely here; what I wanted to say was that not since Geranium Nefertum have a spritzed a scent and really, really liked it yet here I sit repeatedly sniffing a bottle of Jo Malone’s Poppy & Barley. I’m late to the party, because it was an autumn release, but I’ve never really been one to follow the seasonal “rules” when it comes to beauty and scent. It’s true that I might lean towards perfumes that smell of suntan lotion when the weather warms up, and I’m more likely to use a red lipstick in the winter, but apart from that I have quite the liberal attitude towards what goes where and when.

Jo Malone call Poppy & Barley a “lively floral scent, enhanced by rose and violet and topped with juicy blackcurrants” but quite honestly I don’t find any of the individual notes to be that noticeable. And for me, that’s the beauty of it. It just smells full and rich and multi-layered – yes there may be fruits, but it’s not peachy or citrussy or anything that I can put my finger on. There’s some sort of woodier note, there’s a lighter floral (but not at all “pretty”) and there’s a pervading understated sweetness that’s not cloying but still makes itself known.

It’s sort of like if you had to represent “nature” as a perfume, this smell. It’s a posh harvest festival. No nobbly carrots here, parishioners, only send your finest berries and some poppies. Bloody hell – imagine that, a Jo Malone-level harvest festival! Our school harvest festival used to consist of some tins of beans and tuna, formed into a precarious tin pyramid, with old onions and cabbages and carrots scattered around the base. Now and then one of the “good” parents would have donated some satsumas, but the majority of the fruit offering, when I was at primary school, was made up of apples from people’s gardens. Most of them puckered or shot through with wasp holes.

(I realise that makes it sound as though I was in school during the immediate post-war period: it was actually the eighties. I find that any sort of childhood memory I recount now sounds like something from a history book, which is vaguely frightening. I had to explain to someone in their twenties what a record player was, the other day.)

But back to the present day and nice fragrances: if Jo Malone did harvest festival then it would probably smell like Poppy & Barley. I realise that talking about harvest festival isn’t particularly relevant, just as we hit the really cold part of winter, but I’m running with it.

You can find Poppy & Barley at LookFantastic here* – at starts at £48 for 30ml.

The post If Jo Malone Did Harvest Festival appeared first on A Model Recommends.

©2020 " If Jo Malone Did Harvest Festival published first on https://medium.com/@SkinAlley

[topbeautifulwomens]

#The #Power #of #Perfume #– #Scent #Your #Senses #Daily! #actor #fashionable #funnyvideos #hiphopdance #meme #movie #portraitphotography #rap #show #taekwondogirl

What excites your 5 thoughts? Smelling is a amazing one, and sporting great fragrances is like inviting a great temper or frame of mind of well-deserved, quaint, gentle, delicate indulgence. Accentuate your actual physical aroma by wearing a great odoring perfume,one of your own deciding on!*** You can improve your mood by wearing perfume!~

Perfume in the early working times was a commitment of class, distinction and good flavor. I can simply say that the attitude of wearing perfume hasn’t exchanged much considering that the 1800’s. Perfumes are a great mix of a lot of components, not simply located or damaged down by the common nose. For the most part, perfume is based mostly on a few identifiers: sophisticated mixture of leading observes, coronary heart notes, and base notes. Leading notes are explained to be a lot more temporary and evaporate more briefly, whilst the base notes are prolonged-very long lasting. Whether or not male or woman, we can all enjoy the instant mood elevation and brain’s response to smelling a welcoming scent in our midst. The heart note is said to be the main entire body of the perfumes structure.- observed in the center of the perfumes all round aroma launch- perfume is a multi-layered agent of stunning smell with distinction. As a woman, I can express my own experience of what I truly feel regarding perfume and fragrance. I know that it contributes pleasure to my mood, attitude and satisfaction.

Perfume is each and every woman’s or can be any woman’s solace and happiness. That is a extensive and daring assertion to make, sure. I am going to humbly qualify my evaluation with illustrations and/ or maybe consider to enlighten you more about my watch.

There are so many beautiful scents to interact by way ofout the course of the day. Smelling a great perfume routinely can make me pleased, comfortable or modifications a undesirable mood to a peaceful mood inside seconds. I are not able to say that I include even not appreciated smelling a great scent, whether worn by me or by an additional individual, Satiating the sense of comfort through satisfying scents supplies me much happiness and enjoyment. I like to wear one perfume for a while and then go onto another perfume that is entirely diverse than what I wore the thirty day period ahead of. *** Perfume develops or invitations a mood, results in or spurs a memory, or act as a gentle, soft rethoughtser that the person wearing perfume is seeking to preserve a memory alive, or to make them selves happy by bettering, or incorporating spice or bouquets to enjoy their own sense of smell. Perfume is usually worn by the person that likes to be soothed by smelling a picked scent for the duration of the course of their day. I can truthfully attest that I wear perfume for myself initial, and if individuals enjoy perfume, they way too will wear it, choosing a scent that makes their sense of smell happy too!

***Several scents engaged throughout the course of the day trigger change, stimulate new thoughts, or even bring a sense of hope, or preparing. After I smell refreshingly brewed espresso, my eyes become warn and my mind turns into well prepared to work. I like to settle for newly consumed apples and boil the main and add a sprinkle of cinnamon. That smells so good and radiates a comfortable, cosy surroundings in your house of division. It really is an inviting scent for guests and household to sit down and relax. The scent of fresh-baked cookies is utilized by real estate brokers to support likely shoppers acquire a pleasing smell communicateion- one which is retained in the memory, by the thought of the home for sale, Employing the sense of smell, hence connects the buyer to the pleasant smell and connects the smell to the comfort of the home.

Inside financially more challenging occasions, people wore unique vanilla extract powering their ears to smell clean and crisp, stimulating the sense of happiness, or a the very least they smelled like vanilla cookies. Once again, stimulating another sense and bringing memory to the buyer through the senses of smell, sight, and contact.

Whilst I do not get paid out to endorse any particular perfume, I do have my favored scents and some are pricey and other people, not so much. There really is tiny discernible big difference, at least to me, as to what I wear more or significantly less frequently. I enjoy a clean, crispy, stylish scent, like the ones that remindMy grandmother was able to rapture just about any male within her vicinity, simply by her way of layering scents with other cosmetic goods to enhance their shades and scents. I was proficient with a good deal of pattern bottles, by her, once I was a little tot. She gladly shared her scent favorites with my sister and me. A lot of her magic formulation to making her perfume last more time, was employing less. She was accepted by the smell of a,just dabbed secret scent behind her ears. Even though, that wasn’t often the scenario. A lot of my grandmother’s selection of scents have sent many a man mad with attractive, refreshing, alluring notes of makes, that are nonetheless distinguished in the perfume market place right now. She often smelled freshly showered of fine, standard, present day parfum. that will always connect me to the memory of my grandmother. ** I also enjoy the sporty scents of my sister’s choice. I can easily be happy with the expensive, recognizable scents that my grandmother wore throughout her daily life time. ~

One particular of my number of expensive indulgences in life is daily wearing a fine perfume and modifying my perfume alternatives month to month, a plethora of beautiful smelling real perfumes and from time to time even eau de toilette scents too! Something that touches any one of the five senses is an instant mood elevator or opens a gateway for peace, comfort or change. Hearing tunes and producing my own lyrics for music is also anything that is very critical to me and it stimulates peace and opens the gates of creativity by stimulating any one or more of the five senses. Combining 2 or more senses creates substantial memory and mind happiness. Often hearing positive songs while wearing a perfume that I wore ten many years in the past will really get my mind and creativeness ready for creativity and complete-blown prompting for producing great songs, poems or purging my thoughts in my daily magazine. Sporting incredible scents can alter your mood and create new suggestions, or even bring a smile to your experience!

Interact any one or all of your five senses daily and have a much better more effective day by bringing joy to by yourself by what you see,hear, smell, eat, touch, or by displaying love to your fellow man, animal or entire world.There’s something referred to as aroma treatment that really helps you calm pressure, feel refreshed and maybe even keep in mind a fond memory that you selectively select to remember.

I enjoy finding out from you and from others supplying me knowledge consistently!

The post The Power of Perfume – Scent Your Senses Daily! appeared first on Beautiful Women.

source http://topbeautifulwomen.com/the-power-of-perfume-scent-your-senses-daily/

[adriannabown5-blog]

Maintain Elegance Yourself

Holly as well as the staff would love to accept you to Residence of Health and wellness & Appeal. A person can easily start in their mid-twenties or even may presently be struggling in their fifities and even past, it is actually only certainly never late to start a charm regimen, to enhance the flexibility and also quality from skin layer. Believe me, after a few days of utilization as well as you are going to know why a lot of have incorporated this cream in to regular charm regimen. John Russell from IH Distribution, LLC takes you health, anti-aging as well as skin layer care items coming from worldwide. Because assumption, enhancing lots of people are actually looking for the most ideal appeal product that can assist keep their vibrant radiance.

Owing to the pattern, the marketplace has actually watched an increase in charm supplements that vary off whitening tablets to bovine collagen alcoholic beverages along with honeysuckle such as DHC Bovine collagen Powder, Company's Innershine Ruby Collagen essence Strips, Orbis collagen the charm as well as Jelly and also others throughout the years. Don't fall into their traps given that they're certainly not completely as good as they state to be. Regularly visit your physician just before using these charm and also health products prior to buying all of them. If you additionally want to deal with the unwanted furrows around your eyes, on the temple or hands, there many appeal items easily accessible, which could be obtained online. Our provider work off 3 personalized storehouses where we have the ability to resource special items from all over the world at the best feasible rates. While mainstream health and charm products will definitely constantly be actually the huge piece of the market place, natural appeal treatment is actually set to expand also better. You might really want to take into consideration appeal treatments as this is one from the most lucrative places in the area from cosmetology if you wish to include in ingenious plans. Expert therapy cover is a type of professional repayment cover particularly for charm therapists. This is actually marketing and also TV that bolsters the grow older belief, the dimension fallacy, and the elegance belief. Explore/ Spa-Wellness for a wide option of Shower 2 Medical spa converter sets and also Bath Generators or find the big choice from mosaic ceramic tiles, floor ceramic tiles and wall structure ceramic tiles at, all readily available at cost-effective costs. If you have just about any queries regarding where by as well as the best way to use mountains of mourne tab (academiafitness.es), you'll be able to contact us from our own webpage. Right now, is running in season specials on products like sun treatment, deodorants for with great perfume and also impulse care to aid every person take pleasure in outdoor activities. Beauty may be a considerable amount of fun and there are plenty of methods you may either excel your look or modify your appearance completely. The brand name's magnificence list was cared in the elegance circle quite, both large groups highly attached usefulness to this action as well. The same must be the case along with elegance items to ensure that you may be as gorgeous outside as you are actually inside. Eggs are rich in biotin, iron, protein and also Vitamins, An and also B12, and also are actually advantageous for your general health and wellness. This is actually something I likewise appreciate, I additionally love computer game, I participate in daily along with my friends online and also offline. This could lead our company to wonder exactly what really calculates the absolute most when boosting a woman's charm. If the product would be actually worth putting in on, when you order online you think twice. There are actually many other day-to-day workouts that are actually readily accessible like running, cycling and going swimming that additionally strengthen your wellness and skin tone for instance, certainly not just walking, that won't break the bank. Numerous natural private care items are actually also eco-friendly given that they are bio-degradable. Our experts cultivate our products based upon sound scientific guidelines and the physiology of the skin layer. Some components in charm and also cleaning products like solvents in nail gloss cleaners can easily lead and also irritate the skin layer to eczema. Today females is actually extra worry regarding her health and also charm At other stages from her life, she attentions numerous changes, discover more through exploring the supplied hyperlink. What separates Market Wellness partner system to others is their typical tracking systems from email list, phone as well as email purchases. That is actually about looking young, really feeling dynamic and also managing to live an energetic way of living well in to our fifties, sixties and seventies without the common aches as well as ill health associated with growing old. Each treatment is actually customized simply for you, handling the mind and body to emphasize your individual, natural charm. Modern anti-aging items lessen the look from lines and alright product lines in an amazing fashion. The publishers employ the specialists off the appeal business that discuss their tricks with the readers. Annukka Huotari has been involved in the charm and wellness business for past THIRTEEN years. In fact, there is one thing you should perform in order to get closer to exactly what this century has in outlet for you: keep your eyes open up to discover and alter coming from others just what has actually assisted all of them on the road of self-worth, health as well as appeal; stay on par with the current products accessible as well as develop your personal strategy to reach out to brilliance. When you are actually trying to find the correct beauty items for you, you ought to constantly endeavour to opt for scents that are birthed through ONE HUNDRED% all-natural active ingredients. The beauty therapist and skin specialist give a checklist from charm items to apply along with some helpful suggestions for well-balanced skin layer. Neonatal attributes are actually naturally desirable and also youthfulness generally is connected with appeal. More so, lots of folks find yourself over utilizing the items and over use of anything misbehaves. All of this indicates that you have the capacity to patronize Vegan Health and also Elegance along with confidence as well as without must examine item ingredients. These may be purchased to the value from your selection as well as can be used to items and also therapies. They are attempting to receive much more consumers by making using of prodding techniques like costly advertising campaigns on printing as well as mixeds media, complimentary presents as well as splendid packaging of charm items. The best health and wellness and also beauty items on the market today are actually natural skin layer treatment products. Retail store got appeal products appear rather elaborate: good bottles, sophisticated labels and so on, however the what's what is actually that they are actually chock filled with chemicals, which is actually certainly not precisely one thing our experts intend to put on our face or even run through our hair. These wellness as well as charm tips appear with religious frequency in an initiative to enhance the sale from the magazines. A nourishing skin wash grants total charm care to those individuals that have dry facial skin, acne as well as eczema. Aesthetic dental care is as popular as normal dental health care in these times. Along with the comfort from online residence purchasing and also the ready market from customers shopping from the convenience their own residences, many retailers are opening up retail stores online to offer these items a lot more commonly. A beauty parlor or even beauty parlor and also beauty shop are a building dealing with cosmetic procedures for women and also men. Beauty insurance coverage can easily give a safeguard to secure you and your business from the financial problem from an insurance claim versus you. That will not happen overnight, however you can absolutely take care of to generate income through this and also as soon as you possess the process down and start owning visitor traffic, you'll be able to redo this along with any kind of specific niche, merely through buying even more charm PLR. This is actually the reason why people are continuously seeking the most ideal elegance product that can easily preserve their perpetual beauty. Thus whether you are seeking savings on the latest fragrance or appeal fads, discounts on your medicine closet basics, a top-up for your cleansing materials or even awesome value on everyday items like toiletries and baby products, come along to your local area Savers establishment today as well as observe the anticipate your own self.

[toddrogersfl]

How artist Paul Schütze began his journey from paper to perfume

Before photographer, artist and musician Paul Schütze even dreamed of designing fragrances and launching his own line, his obsession with the oft-overlooked sense of smell was already apparent the moment you stepped in to the gallery…

In 2014 Schütze exhibited Silent Surface – a collection of photographs comprising books on fire and with missing words – within the fitting surroundings of an antiquarian bookshop. A central piece of a blackened book resting atop a plinth wafted an other-worldly aroma he’d sprayed the pages with and, under the lights the fragrance diffused to fill the space. The piece was called IN LIBRO DE TENERIS, and the majority of visitors asked if they could buy this inky, woody, book-ish scent (they couldn’t, it hadn’t been created to wear on skin, just as a one-off aroma to enhance the experience of the show) but from that moment, his fragrant fate was sealed.

From then, Paul went on to immerse himself in the world of perfume, working with noses to design his very own trio of fragrances, all borne from olfactory memories of his extensive travels and the inherent artistic sense he has of interpreting the world around him.

Cirebon is a glowing citrus swathed in Tunisian orange blossom, inspired by Paul’s memory of a ‘… Night on the island of Java: by the edge of a lake; the perfumed sounds of a court gamelan orchestra drift across the water, hovering in the air like a constellation of shimmering insects,’ while Tears of Eros is an incense like no other, weaving a scent trail that takes you to ‘…The artist’s studio: Winter; incense from Kyoto’s Sanju Sangendo, a bowl of discarded clementine peel and a night blooming hyacinth; moonlit air from the open windows: these fragrances coalesce into a narcotic, heady, living incense.’ The last of the three so far – Behind the Rain – expands the beauty of mineralic petrichor (the smell that follows a downpour) with a trip to  ‘…An island in the Aegean: a sudden violent rainstorm: as the storm ends, the warmth of the emerging sun on bruised foliage coaxes waves of resinous fragrance that wash down onto our place of shelter under a stand of conifer trees.’

Fascinated to learn more of Paul’s fragrant travels, we asked him to guide us through the most evocative, his personal favourites, and the scents that always inspire him…

What is your first ‘scent memory’?

Chlorine: I have loved swimming in pools since I can remember. I do my best thinking while plowing up and down the lanes letting the world slip away. The huge pleasure of it is inextricably bound to the smell of chlorine. The faintest whiff and I’m transported

When did you decide you wanted to design your own perfume?

I’d always wanted to but it was only four years ago that I realised it might be possible.

What are your five favourite smells in the world?

Well, chlorine – obviously, the interior of the Sanju Sangendo in Kyoto, the flesh of a perfect white peach, our dog Gilbert’s head smells delicious and finally the epicenter of Queen Mary’s Rose Garden (Regent’s Park) in the middle of Summer: the most dizzying, hallucinatory storm of perfumes imaginable.

What’s the worst thing you ever smelled. (Honestly!)

Red Bull: utterly nauseating! I have moved decks on the bus to avoid it.

What is the fragrance you wish you’d created?

Sycomore from Chanel’s Les Exclusives series

Do you feel (like us) that this is one of the most exciting times in fragrance history, because of the creativity being expressed by perfumers? Why do you think that is?

I think we are in a time of intense activity both in commercial perfumery and in the outer edges of experiment (Sisal Tolas and Peter De Cupere). Also because people are realizing that the classical way is not the only way. I think there are parallels with the birth of contemporary music and with visual abstraction.

If you could have created a fragrance for a historical figure, who would it be?

If I might be allowed a fictional historical figure then Des Esseintes the protagonist in Huysmans À rebours.

What’s the first fragrance you bought. And the first bought for you…?

The very first fragrance I bought was Grey Flannel. The first bought for me was Tabac Blonde.

Do you have a favourite bottle design?

I recently made a unique, triple strength version of Cirebon for my partner Chris’s 50th Birthday. I gave it to him in a very beautiful antique, stoppered bottle with a hinged gold cap. It sits in a leather sarcophagus-like case (see photo, below.)

How many perfumes might you be working on, at one time?

Depends, I prefer to work on only one but if I have commissions then it can be three or four at a time.

Does your nose ever ‘switch off’?

It does. Then I know to turn my attentions elsewhere. You can’t force things.

How long, roughly, does it take to create one of your fragrances?

The fastest was a single day the longest so far has been a little over a year.

Is designing a fragrance ‘visual’ for you, as well as something that happens in the nose/brain of the perfumer? If so, in what way…? Is a mood-board helpful?

No, barely visual at all. Very musical though. I often find myself confusing sounds and smells. I listen to music while I work and it is chosen with infinite care. I find time spent in certain architectural spaces hugely helpful in getting a bead on the “right” feel for a fragrance.

What can each of us do to enhance our appreciation of fragrance?

Smell everything. Stop deciding how things smell by merely looking at them. Grab things and burry your face in them. That goes for people too!

What is your best tip for improving a person’s sense of smell?

Again, just smell things: never buy food without taking the time to smell it extravagantly. Never begin to eat until you have savored the aromas of your food. If you find yourself in a lift, close your eyes and imagine the other people from the aromas surrounding you. Open windows and inhale. Never walk past plants, flowering or otherwise without taking the time to sniff them. Never, never worry about how nuts all this makes you seem!

If you had one fragrance note that you love above all others, what would that be?

Vetiver.

We couldn’t leave it there, because we particularly wanted to know about two unusual notes used in the fragrances, and so Paul explained why they are used.

Green Incense: I’m obsessed with incense both as a ritual item and as a family of smells. I love the idea of an incense which is living, green, not-yet-burnt.

Tamarind: Wonderful aroma which hits you in the taste buds as much as the nose. I can’t smell it without my mouth watering. It has a phenomenological impact on the body which I find really seductive.

With such instantly evocative and unique fragrances to launch the range, we can’t wait to see (and sniff) where Paul Schütze will take us next…

Written by Suzy Nightingale

The post How artist Paul Schütze began his journey from paper to perfume appeared first on The Perfume Society.

from The Perfume Society https://perfumesociety.org/166059-2/

[flowersdelivereduk]

Mother's Day Flowers Delivered

Since time immemorial flowers have been used to symbolize emotions and merits. In ancient Greece, ivy was used as an indication of everlasting and unbreakable love. funeral flowers uk On Mom's Day, there are a variety of flowers chosen by individuals to express their feelings of gratitude in the direction of their moms.

In the United States, Mom's Day is considered a special occasion to honor mothers. Mom's Day has all the time been celebrated with a number of love and pleasure, and the easiest way to please a mom on such an auspicious event is to present her with stunning flowers.

Different colors of flowers characterize totally different feelings, and folks give flowers to their moms to precise their gratitude, love and respect. As we speak, not solely colors but in addition the smell of the flower has a number of importance. valentine's day flower delivery uk The most well-liked scents are the floral scents, and a great deal of effort has been made by the perfume business to reproduce the genuine perfume of contemporary flowers.

There are a selection of particular hand-tied American- and European-type bouquets, Mother's Day flowers and Mother's Day bouquets out there in the market. The glamorous click resources bouquets with velvety roses and carnations, and bouquets wanting like silver threads with fantastically woven light grey acacia eucalyptus are eye-capturing.

Tulips will also be a wonderful flower, as they're the most-cherished among all of the spring flowers. These spring tulips with their pink shade look fairly exotic and fabulous. Custom says that red roses are the universal symbol of love, romance, and friendship, but if one Flowers Delivered UK presents roses to their mom then the identical flower turns into the symbol of motherly love, care and affection. Mom's Day flowers are certainly changing into a robust medium to specific social bonding and love, and are a logo of a robust and completely happy household.

Mothers play an essential function in the family and are valued and appreciated for his or her onerous work and dedication. The nurture and care they supply for his or her kids is priceless. And for these mothers inexpensive wedding flowers who work and raise the youngsters, their work is much longer than eight hours a day. Every Might, Mom's Day is a day that we can send flowers to point out our moms how much we respect all that they do.

One Mom's Day reward that could be a popular way to specific our true feelings about how we feel about our mothers is flowers. Flowers are usually not solely lovely, however they're stuffed with meaning that conveys love and respect for our moms. Beneath are various fashionable kinds of flowers you can provide your mom on Mother's Day:

Carnations: Recognized because the official Mother's Day Flower, carnations are a standard reward many individuals give their moms. White carnations are the preferred wikipedia here fo about us carnation given to moms as these flowers symbolize respect, love, and admiration. Dianthus, the scientific title for the carnation means 'flower of the gods.'

Roses: The rose is a flower that expresses deep personal sentiment and is a good reward for moms. They're not known solely as a logo of romance, but in addition they categorical a broad vary of sentiment. There are different colours representing totally different emotions. For example, the purple rose symbolizes real love. The yellow rose symbolizes friendship and happiness. The pink rose represents gratitude and happiness. A mixture of roses will present mother your most real emotions.

Orchids: The orchid is one other popular flower given to mothers on Mom's Day. It's typically given to mothers who work and raise a family Flowers Delivered UK as they symbolize magnificence and wealth. Another optimistic function is that they last a long time, about two weeks or extra.

Gerbera Daisies: Because of the that means of these flowers, the Gerbera Daisies make for a wonderful Mom's Day reward. The Gerbera conveys cheerfulness and other people will often add these flowers in a bouquet for their moms.

If you decide what type of flowers to present your mom, decide flowers that finest signify how you're feeling and likewise finest signify her character attributes. Remember the color of the flowers will not be solely alleged to be stunning, but it also ought to symbolize your sentiments. Bouquets of flowers in a lovely vase are very valentine's day flowers uk meaningful. Make sure you combine flowers that finest summarize how you feel. As properly, select one of the simplest ways to present them to her. Having flowers delivered all the time makes for a pleasant surprise. You can determine whether they should be delivered at work or at residence, and one of the best time of the day.

Although flowers are a phenomenal gift any time of the year, the present of flowers shows your mother precisely how you are feeling. Let her know the way much you admire all the things she has finished for you by sending her a Flowers Delivered UK big beautiful bouquet of the best Mother's Day flowers. If you happen to dwell far away out of your mother, there are numerous on-line flower supply retailers where you may organize to have flowers delivered on Mother's Day.

Here is a easy however radical strategy to giving your mother the perfect Mom's Day Flowers: Give her the flowers that she likes finest and most certainly she'll flowerdelivery.org.uk be thrilled with what you give her. I know, it's a loopy concept is not it? But you'd be amazed at how many individuals ignore such simple knowledge.

We have all heard the saying, "a rose by another identify, continues to be a rose," however that sentiment holds true for all flowers. A stargazer by another title, tulips by every other identify... and so forth., and many others. are still the distinctive and exquisite flowers that they are. When your buying choice takes under consideration your mom's unique tastes, then the odds of you picking out the proper Mother's Day flowers will increase dramatically.

It might appear apparent to say that you should purchase your mother her favourite flowers, but I would like you to REPLY ONE QUESTION: Do you really know your mom's (or your wife's) favourite flowers? When you answered "sure," then congratulations to you! You're among a small proportion of people that I wish to name "considerate present givers.

The subsequent question is an easy one: When buying flowers for your mother, do you have a tendency to purchase their favorite flowers, or simply select no matter occurs to enchantment to you within the moment? Unfortunately, most people Here is Social Network do not know the answer to the primary query I requested, in order that they're solely choice is to buy what appeals to their own tastes when picking out flowers. They roll the proverbial Mom's Day dice, and it is fully unnecessary.

I've been in love with stargazers ever since I can remember and nothing warms my heart more than when someone buys me stargazers. The reward of any flowers given to me says, "I care for you" and I respect that. But the gift of stargazers to me says, "I care for you, AND I know you" and that warms my heart at stage that's actually difficult to specific.

And my Mother? Nicely, she's a tulip kinda gal. Roses are fantastic, however they don't "turn her crank" like a bouquet of tulips. And with five children in my household, you'd think she'd need a variety of flowers, but 2 or 3 bouquets of tulips give her a way to put her favourite flowers everywhere in the house. She's thrilled! Three of my five siblings purchase the flowers that they like, not what my Mother likes, however my brother and I simply buy my mother her beloved tulips and bask within the glow of her appreciation - pretty easy.

So within the spirit of Mom's Day I need to ask, "Are you aware your Mom's favorite flowers?" In case you do then giving her the proper Mother's Day flowers is straightforward. If you do not know, then you definately still have plenty of time to easily ask her. Most mothers are keen to part with such information fairly easily, so it shouldn't be too troublesome to pry it loose. Then you definitely'll have all the data you'll want to give the right flowers for her, which I am positive is all you ever wanted within the first place.

California, like other states, and even nations worldwide, put aside a big day, as soon as a yr the second Sunday in Could, for everybody to spend some time showing appreciation and gratitude to their mothers. We name this day Mother's Day and for many years the most popular reward is to ship flowers. It will possibly imply lots to show even this small token of appreciation. Our expression of caring and recognition will convey happiness into your mom's coronary heart.

As Mom's Day will get closer on the calendar there is a very noticeable enhance within the number of ads for flowers. Some can merely be called up and the representatives will discuss which Mom's Day flowers are in your funds and which might work finest for Mother's Day.

They provide affordable prices along with a really huge number of flower bouquets you'll be able to choose from. Stores that sell flowers for Mom's Day are a good selection, but right here you need to be fast since there's a actual chance Flowers Delivered UK funeral of all of the Mom's Day items being offered out. Buying Mother's Day Flowers on-line is an efficient alternative since you possibly can set up your buy early yet schedule the delivery so the flowers arrive fresh and right on time.

Good Online Mom's Day flower corporations will off you a wide range of decisions to customize and personalize your reward. Standard choices are customized this hyperlink printed ribbons or including teddy bears or chocolate. It is a simple and efficient means that can assist you present your mom how much you love her.

Since it is so straightforward to order on-line and set up Mother's Day Flowers to be delivered anywhere it is most likely a good suggestion to order soon enough so you don't have to be in the large rush. There are twice as many flowers sold and delivered for Mom's Day as for Valentine's Day. As a result of you'll be able to schedule your flower delivery to be fresh and on time your flowers will be in inventory and accessible because you had been sensible sufficient to order earlier than the rush. You'll be able to even set up orders on the identical time to cover her birthday, anniversary and Christmas, and have it all dealt with.

Moms Day is well known on completely different days by means of out the nation, nevertheless, in Canada and the United States it is celebrated on the second Sunday of May. Moms Day didn't start out being a day that we strictly honored our mothers. Depending on which country one resides, the origin of Moms Day varies as well as the custom of celebrating the event. Canada and the United States both honor their moms by Mom's Day flowers bouquet, Mothers Day cards and gifts and taking their mom out for a Mother's Day dinner. Nonetheless, Mother's Day flowers have all the time been a widely performed tradition in quite a few countries and figuring out how to select the very best Mom's Day flower bouquet could make your buying simpler.

When ordering Mother's Day flowers for ones mom in Canada or the United States, it's good to have an understanding of how Mother's Day came to be. Mother's Day was influenced by a young Appalachian homemaker Ann Jarvis who tried to unite women into make better sanitary conditions for both sides of the Civil Conflict by way of what she known as Mother's Work Days. This effort influenced Julia Ward Howe's attempt to unite all lady to stand towards battle after the Civil Warfare inspiring her to jot down the "Moms Day Proclamation." Although they each didn't absolutely succeed in their efforts at the moment, they are going to remain as monumental women who emitted the true drive and power of girls.

In 1904, a man stepped into the limelight on behalf of all of the mothers in Canada and the United States, Frank E. Hering, the President of the Fraternal Order of Eagles. He made a public plea to initiate the a nationwide birthday flowers with name day to honor mothers, nonetheless it wasn't till the death of Ann Jarvis in 1905, when her daughter stepped in and started to rally for a memorial day for mothers that Mothers Day actually got here to be.

Anna Jarvis daughter Ann handed out a single white carnation to every of the five hundred mothers at her mothers and her church a 12 months before the primary Mother's Day was formally recorded which started the tradition of white carnations being a huge a part of Mother's Day. The first recorded Mom's Day was on Could 10, 1908, a Sunday, at St. Andrew's Methodist Episcopal Church in Virginia, as Jarvis wished for it to be looked at in the same mild as a Holy Day. It was not until President Wilson on May ninth, 1914 declared Mother's Day as an official holiday honoring moms who had lost children to war.

Carnations are actually identified to be the official flower for Mother's Day in Canada and the United States in addition to the custom of carrying a carnation corsage or boutonniere representing the status of ones mother. A crimson carnation worn represents that the particular person mother continues to be residing and a white carnation represents someone who has misplaced his or her mom. The historical past of Mother's Day is the rationale behind the lengthy-standing tradition of carnations being among the finest choices of flowers to include into a Mothers Day flower bouquet.

[kansasxklass]

Yay! Another subscription unboxing!

I am a huge fan of monthly subscription services, therefore I plan to post a detailed review of each subscription that I receive throughout the month so you can see the products that I received and hopefully these posts will help you in choosing which subscription is right for you! This time around, I will be reviewing my April 2017 Glossybox!

Theme: Spring Awakening

COUPON: Now through April 30th, use coupon code APRIL50 to save 50% off your first month of Glossybox! 

About GLOSSYBOX:

Glossybox is a beauty subscription service that sends you 5 or more full size and deluxe beauty items each month that include nail care, skin care, makeup, hair care, fragrance and more!!! This box retails for $21 a month (save more with 6-month or annual subscription), however each box is valued well over $21 so it’s a complete steal and well worth the money you pay for it. The packaging is gorgeous and the box is always very well put together. One thing that I have to say about Glossybox is that their customer service is TERRIBLE. I mean bad, the worst, don’t even bother. I messaged them three times through the website, with confirmation that my email had been sent and I still haven’t heard a thing back almost a month later. Pretty ridiculous if you ask me. Anyway, on to the review….

 This month’s box only retailed for around $50 which is pretty low for Glossybox apparently, but after looking at past boxes, this is one of my favorite boxes they have had in a while. At least you are getting back what you paid for it.

 Product 1: VINCE CAMUTO Ciao Fragrance

I was sooooo impressed with the size of this perfume sample! And it came in the prettiest little bottle! I have actually never tried a Vince Camuto fragrance so I was really excited about trying this one. The scent of this perfume was sweet, fresh, and right up my alley! It is very fruity and floral with hits of Pink Grapefruit and Rose, perfect for spring! Another thing that I liked about this fragrance was that it wasn’t overwhelming at all. It definitely lasted all day, but I didn’t scare off my co-workers either which was a plus.

You can purchase this full size item (3.4 oz) for $85 (woo, that’s ‘spensive) here —> https://www.macys.com/shop/product/vince-camuto-ciao-eau-de-parfum-spray-3.4-oz?ID=4393130&CategoryID=30076

 About this product:

 Drawing on the perpetual motion of everyday life - with its comings-and-goings and hellos and goodbyes – Ciao celebrates the spontaneity and energy of a modern woman’s lifestyle.

FRAGRANCE CLASSIFICATION: Fruity Floral Oriental

FRAGRANCE DESCRIPTION: Flirty. Addictive. Contagious.

FRAGRANCE NOTES:

Top: Italian Mandarin, Pink Grapefruit, Blended Berry Accord

Mid: Rose, Peony, Muguet, Jasmine

Dry: Glowing Amber, Amaro Liquor, Madagascar, Vanilla Australian Sandalwood, Indonesian Patchouli, Musk

 Product 2: GLICHRIST & SOAMES BeeKind Body Lotion and Shower Gel

This is a brand that I have never heard of but I was really excited to try! Established in London England, Glichrist & Soames are known as one of the most renowned and respected bath and body brands in the world with luxury products available at an affordable price. Both of the products featured in the April box had a lovely lemon verbena & honey scent which I LOVE for spring! Lemon verbena is one of my all-time favorite fresh scents, so naturally I am taking the lotion everywhere with me! These were very nice little deluxe samples at 1 oz. each which will honestly last me quite a while. Both of these products are free of parabens, phthalates, petrol-derived ingredients, mineral oil, urea, DEA, TEA, and propylene glycol which is very nice. I love to take great care of my skin and always prefer to use products that have skin benefits. Therefore, I highly recommend these beauties and they will leave you with moisturized and healthy skin for the spring! Another cool thing about this brand is that a portion of their proceeds go to help support honey bee and sustainable pollination research at the University of California at Davis Entomology Department. What an amazing cause!

You can purchase these full-size products here à

BeeKind® Body Lotion, 8oz ($14): http://www.gilchristsoames.com/collections/beekind/beekind-body-lotion-8oz.html

BeeKind® Body Lotion, 15.5oz ($24): http://www.gilchristsoames.com/collections/beekind/beekind-body-lotion-15-5oz.html

BeeKind® Shower Gel, 8oz ($14): http://www.gilchristsoames.com/collections/beekind/beekind-shower-gel-8oz.html

BeeKind® Shower Gel, 15.5oz ($24): http://www.gilchristsoames.com/collections/beekind/beekind-shower-gel-15-5oz.html

About these products:

With a fresh lemon verbena fragrance and extracts of honey and certified organic calendula extracts, our BeeKind Body Lotion is as soothing as it is stylish.

Fresh lemon verbena scent

Lotion has a rich, yet non-greasy formula that moisturizes all day

Shower gel produces a rich lather and gently cleanses skin without over-drying

 Product 3: VASANTI COSMETICS Brighten Up! - Enzymatic Face Rejuvenator

Now this is a product that I have actually used before. I believe that I received it from another subscription service a while back and I loved it, so I wasn’t mad at all about getting another deluxe sample. This is one of my all-time favorite moisturizing exfoliators. It has a crisp, clean scent and is gentle enough to use 3-5 times a week. I feel like I am getting a deep clean without irritating my skin which is important when using an exfoliating cleanser. After each use my skin was left feeling clean, smooth and refreshed. This product has everything that I look for in an exfoliator, I honestly cannot say enough good things about it. This was a deluxe sample (20g), but it lasts quite a while if you use it sparingly. This cleanser is enriched with papaya, microcrystals and aloe to give you that deep clean and deep moisture that your skin deserves!

You can get the full-size product (120g) for $40 or the travel size (40g) for $14 here à  https://vasanticosmetics.com/shop-skincare/brighten-up-enzymatic-face-rejuvenator/

From the Vasanti website:

Hey, gorgeous! Dulling skin, fine lines, acne or scarring have you feeling less than your best? We’ve got a secret weapon. Brighten Up! is a powerful and gentle yet effective scrub that brightens, rejuvenates, and cleanses, leaving instant results that will have your friends thinking you just left the spa. And the best part: one bottle will last you six months. We know what you’re thinking… it’s too good to be true! And it is - but we have over 50,000 reviews on Birchbox saying it’s the real deal. 

Key features:

Triple Action Formula:Brightens and breaks down dead skin with Papaya Enzyme, exfoliates with 25% natural dermatologist grade micro-crystals (no plastic beads) to help smooth your skin’s surface and cleanses with Aloe-enriched cream gel while hydrating with coconut and panthenol.

·         Exfoliates, brightens, and hydrates at once that rivals a day at the spa

·         Provides instant results, with vivisibly smoother, brighter, glowing skin after just one use

·         Gentle enough to be used on the most sensitive skin

·         Helps with it all: fine lines, wrinkles, scarring, dark spots acne, dulling skin, and large pores

Why you'll love it!

·         Cruelty-free

·         Vegan-friendly

·         Gluten-free

·         99% natural

·         Paraben free 

·         Sulfate free

·         No Plastic beads 

·         Made in Canada

Product 4: DOUCCE Maxlash Volumizer Mascara in 103 Black (FULL SIZE)

So like most people, I LOVE getting full sized mascara’s in a subscription box! However, I have never tried a mascara from this brand and due to the fact that I was unimpressed with the pigmentation and overall quality of their eyeshadows, I guess I wasn’t really expecting much. While my Urban Decan Perversion Mascara is still my #1, I must say that I definitely wasn’t unimpressed with this mascara. I can appreciate the wand, it actually kind of reminds me of the Too Faced Better than Sex Mascara wand which I love. I HATE plastic wands. Only on certain occasions can I appreciate a plastic wand. I like mine to have bristles, which this one did so it was an automatic win for me. The formula wasn’t bad either. It flaked a little bit at the end of my day, but it wasn’t anything significant and therefore I will definitely be wearing this again. Good job, Doucce. Stepping up the game!

You can get this full sized product here for $22 à https://www.doucce.com/product/eyes/maxlash-volumizer-mascara/

From the Doucce website:

Intensify your lashes with outrageous volume and length. The XL brush fiber bristles glide through the lashes evenly, coating each lash for the ultimate volume. The velvet carbon black formula enhances the lashes adding depth and dimension that creates visually fuller and longer lashes. The creamy and buildable formula is clump-resistant, flake proof, smudge proof, and resistant to sweat and humidity.  

Product Application: Apply in an upwards curling motions towards your eyebrows to make even strokes, while coating each lash. Follow through to avoid clumping.

Product 5: Colourpop Ultra Matte Lip in the shades Thursday and Airplane Mode (FULL SIZE)

These were obviously my favorite products this month! I am such a Colourpop addict so when I discovered that these beauties were going to be in the box this month, I was beside myself. The best part is, I received two shades that I did not already have!!! Both of the shades I received are gorgeous. One is a neutral, and one is a dark pop of color so I really enjoyed the contrast between the two. Thursday is described as a brilliant red-violet, and it is stunning! It pulls fairlt dark on me since I have a lighter skin tone but I don’t have another shade like it so I was really excited about this one! Airplane Mode is described as a dirty peach. This one actually looked almost too light on my lips, I may have to mix it or apply just the right makeup to make this one work but it’s a wonderful shade nonetheless. Now as much as I adore these lippies, the formula can be a bit drying on the lips so I definitely recommend applying a moisturizing balm underneath before application. I have learned that if you try to apply over the top of the liquid lipstick, it can look really cake-y and patchy. So I do not recommend that. These babies were full size and retail for $6 each.

You can purchase them for ($6 each) here à

https://colourpop.com/products/thursday

https://colourpop.com/products/airplane-mode

About this product:

This thin, lightweight formula smoothly glides on the lips leaving SUPER intense pigment with a bold, ultra-matte look. It is very long-wearing and 100% kiss-proof AKA no transferring! TIP: Always exfoliate your lips first for the smoothest finish.

Product Application:

STEP ONE - Make sure your lips are bare and dry. Some choose to wear our Lippie Primer underneath for added comfort; please note this may interfere with the super long-wear of our Ultra Matte Lips.

STEP TWO - Apply a coordinating Lippie Pencil for a clean, precise, and perfected application.

STEP THREE - Apply Ultra Matte Lip with the applicator or your favorite lip brush.

Product 6: Beauty Conditioner and Shampoo??????

As a first time Glossybox subscriber, I was extremely confused about these last two products…I guess Glossybox is trying something new this month by adding two mystery bonus products to the box. Apparently “this is a well-known shampoo and conditioner duo that has recently been reformulated. Then we are given a survey after receiving our box to share our thoughts on the products… So I am not sure if or when we will find out exactly which brand these products are from. But I mean, overall they seemed nice. Just like your everyday drugstore shampoo and conditioner formulas. They smelled really nice and left my hair feeling clean which is important.

Unfortunately I do not have a purchase link, but I will update if and when I find out what brand was sent out.

About the product:

Beauty Shampoo and Conditioner works with all hair types is safe for everyday use and for color-treated hair. Leaving you with soft, smooth, healthy and great-smelling hair, the brand might be a mystery but you’ll soon find out what it is!

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