#dangle cute girls in front of me and i crumple like a paper cup i swear-

[nyanrial]

"Oh no! What have we done~?!"

[kreidewaltz]

christmas rush | s.r.

pairing. suna rintarou x gn!reader

about. after your interesting encounter with the suna sublings, he texted you to meet up at the station and you let him come along to experience what christmas is to you.

word count. 3.1k

genre & warnings. fluff. strangers to friends. mutual pining. suna's sister is cute. timeskip. vague mention of atsumu and msby jackals.

author’s note. my secret santa fic for you @avantaes for the happy holidays exchange of alice's server <3 sorry if i slip up on the pronouns, i'm trying out writing a gn!reader eheh thank you to @haikyuu-is-for-lovers ​for beta-ing this fic ily this is a part of the haikyuu holidays collab which you can check here!

“have a merry christmas!” you say, waving at the girl who looks at you with bright, sparkling eyes that makes your heart warm. her parents, sliding money onto the counter and giving you two heartwarming smiles, stepped away from the store before you could decline and give it back to the family. clasping your hands for a moment, you squeal and shake your co-worker’s shoulders,  resulting in you messing up his bright red cap, showing off your two thousand yen, and doing the thing where you swipe the money off your palm.

“look, look! I’ve got tips, ‘samu!” you exclaim, your voice getting a pitch higher because you can’t contain your excitement from doing well on being a cashier today. it drains your energy from repeatedly talking and keeping up a persona in front of other people to live up to the reputation of the toy store. the jar on your counter filled with crumpled money and coins makes you confident and you excitedly bounce on the wooden chair. he provides you a thumbs up along with a soft smile on his exhausted face before the ringing bell and chatter of people startles you both in your places. 

another christmas rush, you both ponder. 

you prepare yourself by cracking your fingers and stretching for a minute since you’re experienced in the working field– demanding customers, stubborn and loud children, and oldies who whisper and say they know everything about working. both of you have gone through that and it seems fate throws another batch of those people. turning your head and seeing him staring back at you with determination bubbling on his eyes cracks a smile on your dull face.

“osamu, let’s ditch work and celebrate together.” you say, voice lowered to a whisper as you jutted out your bottom lip while waiting for the customers since they take their time picking out plushies or christmas cards. osamu chuckles, his hand playfully punching your arm and murmuring under his breath how you’re confusing which made you step on his white shoes. the look of horror forming on his face is more than enough to leave you satisfied with your revenge, which was childish to begin with. you whisper three, two, one before hearing the bells, indicating that customers are coming in. you mentally prepare yourself for another continuous rush.

-

"spare us ten minutes?" the voice asks, making you startled on your chair and a small smile appear on your face to assist the last customer for the night. there are still people in the mall, but the store got quiet after the rush earlier, so this was expected. but the person got you dumbfounded. locking eyes with the man had you unconsciously gulping because you’d heard of him from your co-worker.

"suna rintarou..?" muttering to yourself and giving him a subtle nod, your tired eyes move to the glass door and a sigh leaves your chapped lips - seeing no one handling the fans is arduous. arching your back for a moment to stretch and feeling your bones crack brings contentment because standing and moving around for eight hours isn’t a pleasant experience. because of the beige bucket hat he’s wearing, you can’t see his expression clearly, but his lips are pressed together and there’s no brightness forming in his eyes. 

the hell? he should be excited about the christmas season!

“taro-nii, let’s go!” a gentle yet loud voice breaks your stretching and you instantly see the resemblance of the volleyball player to his sister, who looks adorable in her olive green sweater and the hair clips resting on her hair, making her stylish at a young age. hearing “wish me luck!” produces chuckles from you because of his monotone voice in contrast to his sister’s. and because you know he’ll be dragged around in the store, your exhausted eyes meet his, a mix of gray and yellow which is beautiful, you muse to yourself. 

as the siblings disappeared on the aisle, you instantly nudge osamu’s waist with your elbow and lean forward to remove his cap since he angles it in a way his eyes are covered. 

“‘samu! he’s hot.” cupping your cheeks before shrieking and shaking your head in disbelief, you bite on your lip to prevent squealing because you two made eye contact earlier, chuckling at the way it’s obvious he didn’t want to be here. the fact that he’s wearing a bucket hat made your palms clammy, picturing him in your mind while swooning over him for the next couple of hours.

“you do remember that he attended inarizaki, right?” your eyes widen like the dangling christmas balls hanging on the ceiling— leaving your mouth open and desperately trying to recall your high school, which is evident due to the furrow of your eyebrows and the continuous bouncing your left leg.

“wait.. you’re kidding right? i’m sure i would’ve seen him somewhere!” 

with your voice turning to a low whisper, you scoot your chair closer to osamu’s because there’s a possibility the other volleyball player could hear you— and you don’t want that to happen.

in your mind, you’re weighing the pros and cons: he’s in the toy aisle and probably helping his sister to pick toys, there’s upbeat christmas songs playing in the store, and add the indistinct yet loud chatter of people in the mall... it's possible that he wouldn't hear you, but you won't take risk— not for now.

“you could, but you didn’t.” throwing a harsh glare in his direction, but reconciling by giving a peace sign after, you recognize that osamu’s words are the truth, but the underlying tone of cockiness didn’t go unnoticed. by nature, you are observant, after all. even if your co-worker denies he’s similar to the nosy blonde that is his brother, but there are some things you couldn’t help but notice, they both love teasing, only osamu is lowkey about it. 

“you’re a literary type of girl, so it makes sense you didn’t watch our game... don’t even say i didn’t invite you.” 

“studying is important, you idiot!” crossing your arms and rolling the stack of papers laying on the counter before slamming it on his head with little force, you pout in distress, only because if you’d attended the games, you could’ve seen suna around the high school, or admired him while he’d practice and get lost in his voice whenever he’d speak.

“why are we even talking about me! we should talk about your cru—“ 

“excuse me but..” a familiar voice interrupted your playful banter and you had to clutch your stomach because of who’s laid in front of your eyes. the glint forming in your eyes makes suna annoyed and let out a tsk, but he didn’t move because his sister was currently fawning over the toys that she’d add to her new collection.

“osamu, don’t just stand there.” you nudge your co-worker to help his friend, but instead he leaned over the counter and whispered something to suna, and the sly smirks forming on their faces makes your toes curl on your shoes in nervousness and the countless worries are starting to overlap in your head. 

you couldn’t help it, you’re a natural overthinker.

“alright! suna, you’re in good hands.” osamu’s hand gives your shoulder a soft squeeze before he disappears through the backdoor. you watch, tapping your fingers on your thighs to the beat of the cheerful christmas song playing right now.

“taro-nii, give it already!” his sister’s voice made you hold back a laugh by lowering your head, and you went to help him scoot over the toys and candies onto the counter. there are plushies on his hand, biscuits squished by his elbow and a reindeer headband he’s wearing which isn’t that neat— you assume his sister put it on and kept being persistent. plus, his soft brown hair looks all over the place.

“look, look! this is cute, right?” his energetic sister beams at you, her small hands holding the fox plushie with a proud smile on her face. you leaned more onto the counter to pat her head, her giggles due to your head pat making you giddy inside. she’s courteous and well behaved; her natural bright energy gives off a great aura. 

“yes! it’s so adorable like you!” patting her head once more and gently grabbing the toy from her, the literal sparkles present in her eyes make you snicker and scan the tags of the items quickly, giving the fox plushie back to her hands, which are welcoming the toy warmly. 

“no! this is taro-nii.” after finishing the scan, you put the items on the two pastel red and green paper bags and your ears perk up. giggling at her enthusiasm towards her brother, your eyes focused on him, faint red visible around his neck as it extended to the tip of his ears.

“how much do you love him?” you whisper, side eyeing the latter while he stands still, holding the two bags without looking in your direction. you and his sister giggle while she squeals at your question.

“this much!” she states, putting her hands to the side and expanding the love she has for her beloved brother— who’s standing, flustered, but somehow still keeping an eye your fingers tapping mindlessly on the counter. he ruffled her hair and poked her cheek to annoy her, only now a distress pout is forming on her lips and she huffs her pink dusted cheeks. 

“let’s go, we’ll come back soon.”

hopping on the counter and helping suna hold the bags while he fixes his sister’s adorable pigtails, the next song blasting on the speakers makes her jump around and slur the lyrics while her hands are wrapped around the plushie as if she’s never letting go. he gave a subtle nod and his eyes went to his arms, catching up on his clues and giving a big wave to the siblings. if you only noticed the faint red tint adorning his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair because of him doing something discreet without anyone noticing, or you.

this is indeed a memory you can’t forget on christmas. 

-

“he’s so slow, is he a turtle?” you say, murmuring under your breath as you snuggle your head on your pale blue scarf wrapped around your neck comfortably. balling your fists in your coat pocket to not shudder at the cold breeze passing by, regret flooded your mind because you only wore your off white shirt and the coat protecting you from the snow falling from above. you tap your white sneakers against the snow-covered ground as you impatiently wait for suna, who texted you he’d be ahead of you earlier that day. 

“hey, christmas cashier.” seeing him beside you wearing casual clothes got your cheeks to heat up and made you playfully punch his shoulder. tiptoeing a little to adjust the scarf around his neck and pat the snow off his dark gray coat, neither of you said anything. you can’t say anything; the close proximity and being under his sharp gaze makes you nervously uneasy.

“hi to the most discreet and late man i know.” the smirk forming on his face indicates he’s not offended by your statement. by discreet you’re referring to the small paper with his number written on it that he slid smoothly onto the counter while you were busy with his sister. hours later you figured out it was the reason why osamu and him were smirking. his text particularly said “let’s be early and be spontaneous, show me how christmas is to you”. ruffling his hair to purposely annoy him, you tug his hand to skip along the grounds and finally begin the journey of doing christmas activities, showing him how he should appreciate the holiday through your perspective.

since you accidentally ponder out loud, "how many reasons must i provide for you to enjoy winter season with me?" and he shrugs instantly, looking from far away, his eyes longing for something as he softly whispers... "two or three would be enough." 

-

"why the hell are we here?" he narrows his gray-yellow eyes at you while you're busy cupping your cheeks due to the cold temperature at the mall. walking a little further to the back, but enough that you'd see what's happening to the center of the place, people who are in the front (whether they like it or not, they've got no choice) get to sit in santa's lap and get to take pictures with santa claus.

"hey! let me explain. in christmas season, mr. suna rintaro, enjoy the free entertainments!" crossing your arms and pointing a finger in his direction before you adjust his scarf and pat his hair, ruffling it to cover his eyes because he's a volleyball figure, you and him watch this with a company can ensue chaos.

"yeah? like sitting on santa's lap?" he stepped a little closer to you because of people passing by - he didn't want injuries to happen. hearing your chuckles has his hands clammy and him shaking his head to compose himself internally.

"don't worry! we're just gonna watch them and bully them— a secret between us only." a giddy smile is visibly present on your face as you hold onto your scarf to cover your smile that can't seem to stop.

"oh my god.. look at that!" slapping a hand over your mouth and shutting your eyes because you had to physically stop yourself from laughing or people will hear you and think you're hysterical. he follows your gaze and he can't help but let out a snicker. he has to tell osamu about this.

there's someone sitting on santa's lap, much to his dismay because he's whining and moving a lot— like a child that doesn't receive candy from the doctors. the faux blonde seems at your age, his pissed off expression is somehow wholesome which makes the group of people here break into fits of laughter.

"that guy, he's a kid at heart." you murmur under your breath and grin at suna as he locks eyes with you and nods at your statement. he didn't talk much after that, just chuckling with you and angling his phone to record the blonde earlier, which had you squealing at it because free entertainments are rare. though one thing you failed to notice was how his black phone captured you tiptoeing to get more of a view in the enormous crowd, a hand on your waist and the brightness of your mesmerizing eyes beating the sparkling christmas ornaments.

you weren't an entertainment, because in his head it seems wrong, and it is. more of, you were just someone beautiful that suna rintaro could stare at for hours and never get bored of— because you are someone who's interesting, and he can't wait to discover the other layers you have.

-

“on christmas, use your charm and coupons to get discounts.” skipping around the streets to see different foods which makes you hungry and act distressed by whining so he’ll go with you to the food stalls. he scoffs at your statement and follows behind you, genuinely curious on what you’ll do because he isn’t the type to use coupons to buy food. he gives the cash and is good to go to savor the food alone.

“one order of oden, please!” you say, waving to the old man behind the oden stall with a bright smile. the former nodded, saying a “comin’ right up!” as you tug suna closer to the stall to inhale the heavenly scent of oden— the dashi soy sauce broth is making you lick your lips in anticipation, and the fish cakes and the deep fried tofu added excitement in your stomach.

“thanks! i’m so hungry.” with a chuckle slipping past your lips, you bow down before stepping to the snow-covered bench across from you. the cold feeling of the snow makes you hiss as you try to make yourself comfortable.

“suna? taste it! perfect food for this hell of a winter.” holding the bowl with delicacy before he accepts it with a small smile adorning his face, he brings down his scarf before taking a big sip of the broth and a bite of the hard boiled egg. a low rumble comes from his chest which you assume is because of the hot broth soothing the cold feeling.

“where’s the charm and discount there?” turning his body towards you and looking at you with soft eyes as he watches you take a bite of the tofu, a smile passing through your lips because it is newly fried while you huff your smooth, pink cheeks. 

“the charm is just.. interacting with people, you know? giving them smiles because god knows what they go through with customers.” he can’t help but chortle at your statement, but still nods after a minute, agreeing with you. his right hand plays with the black button of his coat, needing something to distract himself. 

“he only let me pay in half for the oden. it’s generous, yeah? he always gives me food when i go home years ago, you know, the shitty college phase.” giving the bowl to him once again as he listens attentively, his gaze goes to the oden stall- maybe he can visit once in a while and ask questions about you, or he can tag his sister along. tapping his black boots on the ground in habit while stretching his other leg straight, he hears your breath hitch and it makes him snicker inwardly, probably because of how long his leg is or because you’re amazed by the hot stew. either way, it’s charming.

“mhm, yeah, and i bet you insisted at first.” he feigns innocence as he takes in your offended expression. eyes wide like marble saucers, you purse your lips and cover the bowl with your ice-cold hands, acting like you don’t want to share the food with him anymore. 

“w-well, of course! but you know old people.” you sigh, grabbing the chopsticks and taking a bite of the fish cake while shutting your eyes for a moment to momentarily forget the flaring heat forming on your cheeks and down to your neck. he looks ahead as he attempts to scramble his thoughts, but there's something over his lips and it's the deep fried tofu. you push it further with a smile on your face as he begrudgingly takes it as a whole.

"and yeah! this sums it up, that during christmas you should enjoy the simple things." taking a last sip of the heavenly soy sauce broth before you nudge him for him to take the last gulp. he went along with you, after all; he deserves the last sip of the stew. you grab the bowl from him and stroll back to the trash can nearby the stall—oh, if you only noticed his eyes following your every move with a gentle smile forming on his face.

his thoughts begin to clear out and only come to a conclusion—you're pretty and simple, and he should appreciate it more.

[angelisverba]

did you miss me, angel?

in which y/n knows there’s something wrong with Harry, but it feels too good to care.

pairing: y/n and vampire!harry

word count: 13k+

warnings: mentions of smut, slight angst

note: this is the first time i post my writing on tumblr so please go easy on me :) also, this is unedited and a little but rushed .... but i hope you enjoy it!

It started with the unusually sharp canines

But they were just teeth, and on that night, y/n wasn’t looking for teeth. 

Hell, she wasn’t looking for anything on that Halloween night when she walked into that diner with a flickering light, dressed in that angel costume. All she wanted was a strawberry milkshake after the disastrous night at a haunted house she’d spent with ‘friends’. 

Those same friends who drenched her get up in ice cold water, making the fuzz of her halo compress and her white leotard stick rigidly against her tummy. With the help of her tears, her glittery pink eyeshadow has spread all over her cheeks and nose, making it seem like she had a constant blush going.

 And her hair? Oh, her hair was the only thing that had stayed intact. Shirley Temple’s synthetic blonde curls that bounced with every step she took, and jiggled sadly when the waitress asked her if she was alone. 

“And what can I get for you tonight honey?” asked that same waitress, pen poised uselessly on her notepad because all y/n wanted that night was:

“One strawberry milkshake,” and she added a pathetic little ‘please’ quietly.

Y/n waited with her head down, fingers picking at her cuticles, or at the tattered red leather seat. She didn’t look up when heeled boots and a long coat walked past her because how could she? How could she look up when her eyes were clouded with tears, and when they spilled out they no doubt worsened her appearance. God, she was so embarrassed and that only made her more upset. She was so stupid to have gone along. She should have stayed in to studying for her math exam like she was planning to when Alex and his stupidly cute crooked smile asked her if she wanted to tag along with him and his friends. Why did she think she was ever going to end up with a boy like him? Pull it together, y/n. Quit crying. 

Still, she didn’t look up. She hung her head like a dying flower. In that diner, with the lightbulb that wouldn’t stop flickering, and the refrigerator that buzzed a little too loudly. In that diner, with the chairs by the counter that squeaked with every move, and tables that were sticky with maple syrup no matter how many times they were wiped down, y/n was still the brightest thing there. Still so terribly sad, so sad that she sobbed, and her curls moved with every jolt of her shoulders, but still so terribly bright. 

Because her tutu had sparkles in it, and her little white dorothy shoes were the purest shade of white there could ever be. And because her eyeshadow had glitter in it and now it was all over her face. Her face that glistened pink with glitter and tears. Truly a sight to see, when that same heart shaped face lifted to drink from the strawberry milkshake that  had been set down in front of her by the waitress looked at her with pity when she’d said she was alone.

Truly a sight to see, when that same girl with lips puffy from nibbling at them in order to keep her sadness in, wrapped those same lips around the red and white paper straw, and hallowed her pink cheeks because the shake was thick and it was taking a lot from her to even get a sip. 

A sight to see when this girl made the mistake of looking up, after she had spent all that time looking down, and connecting eyes with the most handsome stranger she had ever seen, sitting three booths down from her. Connected eyes while her cheeks were hallowed and oh so pink, eyes red, and puffy red lips. 

Truly, a sight to see because her eyes widened, and she sputtered out the little she had managed to get out of that ridiculously skinny straw, so that it was smeared all over her bottom lip. She scrambled to get a napkin, to stick her little fingers in the napkin dispenser, only too find it completely empty because what little had been inside it was spread and crumpled all over the table. She plopped down into her seat with a huff, and brought those same fingers up to her lips, and scooped up the mess in the space between her lower lip and chin while thinking about the man she had just seen. 

He’d looked straight into her eyes when she glanced up. And even though y/n was seated three booths away from him, his emerald green eyes hypnotized her like he was a snake charmer, and she a hopeless cobra. The man, and a man clearly from the rugged stubble on his chin and upper lip, held a newspaper in his hands, his face tilted down towards it, but eyes locked on hers before she had even seen him. A stray piece of hair dangled between his eyes victoriously, having managed to escape from the rest of his loustorus chocolate curls. His sharp jaw clenched, and y/n saw a muscle flex in the small moment she had observed him. 

He’s mad, she thought, I’m disturbing him. And she knew this because his eyebrows were pulled tightly together, his own pink lips tipped downwards, and his broad shoulders heaved up and down slowly, like he was trying to control himself. 

Y/n instantly blamed it on her obnoxious drinking. She’d been making noise right? And he’s clearly trying to read his newspaper. Here you go again y/n! This is why Alex and his friends fucki-

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

Y/n’s back instantly straightened ,and her eyes to widen. She feels her heart starts to pound, and her palms start to sweat, and holy shit why is Alex here? 

“I thought this is where you had run off to.” He slides into the seat opposite her, blocking her panicked stare with the stranger three booths away, who’s jaw only clenched harder when her eyes connected with his again.

“Go a-away, Alex.” Y/n stammered, her throat knotting and eyes welling.

“Oh, come on, y/n.” Alex flashed her a crooked smile, but it was no longer cute to her and all she wanted to do was punch him in the face. “The guys are waiting outside, let’s go.” Then, Alex got up, and grabbed her tiny wrist in his hand, and tried to pull her up. Y/n yelped and attempted to pull her hand back.

“Let me go, Alex! I’m not going back with you.”

“Quit being fooli-” Alex only pulled her harder, and spoke through gritted teeth, no longer caring about whether he hurt her or not. He tugged her so hard, y/n’s body ended up on the checkered floor, full-on crying at that point, sprawled on all three’s because her wrist was in Alex’s grasp.     “I believe the lady said to let her go.” rumbled a deep, sultry voice. And Alex did let her go, not willingly, but because he ended up on the floor next to her, nose bleeding.

“Excuse me!” The waitress that asked y/n if she was alone, yelled at them angrily for causing havoc during her shift. “Take this outside or I’ll call the-” She had the phone raised threateningly but,

“No need, Brenda. This man was just leaving.” And y/n looked up to find the source of the voice, once again locking eyes with the handsome stranger who sat three booths away from her. He was looking at her with so much intensity, she didn’t see Alex leave. 

He didn’t outstretch a hand to help her up. 

No, he picked her up from her position on the floor, and sat her back on the booth. 

Once again, y/n found herself looking down at her lap, this time cradling her left wrist because it was already swelling from the impact it had taken upon bracing her weight against the floor. Her translucent white leggings were torn on her knees, and dirty on her shins. A straw wrapper was stuck to her ankle.

“Are you going to drink your milkshake, little angel?” said the same voice, this time almost crooning at her in the same british accent that had kicked Alex out of the diner. Slowly, y/n listed her gaze, moving from her hands, to the edge to the table, to the bottom of the milkshake glass, and traveling from the hands that were clasped together, to the silver cross on a chain around his neck, to his lips, and finally… to his eyes. 

Eyes that looked at y/n with such gentleness, she could almost feel the caress against her skin. 

“I asked you a question, darlin’” he rasped, leaning on his elbows and coming closer to y/n, wraps her arms around herself and ducks her head again. “‘Is not nice to ignore a person they way your doin’” he said, his burning gaze warming y/n’s blushing cheeks.

“No,” she mutters, choking on her words and feeling a burning behind her eyes. She was going to cry again. She had no reason to cry, yet to her, it seemed like she had every reason to. She was alone at a shitty diner, her craving for a milkshake gone sour and her wrist hurt like a motherfucker. 

“What was that?” the man says. 

“I said,” y/n’s voice cracks, and what little reserve she had left come crashing down. “I d-don’t w-want it a-anym-m-ore.” She’s hiccupping on every word, and her tears are trickling streams down her cheeks.

“Alright, no more cryin’, angel.” His hand twitches, like he wants to reach out and hold her, but something’s holding him back. “You’ve been cryin’ since I got here. What’s got you so upset?” 

Y/n looked up again because his voice is just so soft and smooth it reminds her of a rich cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day, and she saw his hand twitch. She has his hand twitch and even though he was a stranger, she still wanted to be comforted. 

She looks up with wide teary eyes, and the man in front of her gives her a smallest of smiles. So small, it almost appeared to be a wince, like he didn’t know how to curve his lips up in that gesture.

And that’s when she sees them.

Two small, pointy white teeth. But she blew it off because even her own were slightly sharp, and because that smile stopped her heart. This man, that had sat in front of her, was intimidating, serious, and she didn’t know him. But at the same time, he took her breath away because he was simply ethereal. From his attire, to fine to a diner, all the way down to his perfectly placed mole on the right corner of his mouth.

“I don’t even know you.” She says, her voice small and head tilting sideways, a curl swaying between her eyes like his stray curl.

“‘M name ‘s Harry.” Harry leans back, resting his arms on the booth behind him. His coat opens up, and y/n can see that the red shirt he was wearing was hardly buttoned up, and the cross necklace he was wearing rested teasingly between the divot of his strong pectoral muscles.  “Wa’s yours, angel?” He said to her, his voice as close to a cat’s purr as it could be, and it made y/n visibly shiver. This made him smirk wide, one corner of his lips pulling up higher than the other. 

He knew exactly what he was doing, and y/n knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. And frankly, this may have excited her just a bit. Only because the boys she had been with earlier that night were pieces of shit that didn’t know what they were doing, and while this man could be a serial killer, y/n was far too physically and emotionally exhausted to care about the rules. 

“Y/n.” She sniffled, her tears slowing down but her heartbeat accelerating.

“Well, y/n, I’m all ears if you would like to talk about what made you cry.” With a long, slender, finger, he pushes the nearly untouched milkshake towards her, and y/n reaches out with shaking hands to take a harsh slurp while avoiding Harry’s pressing green eyes at all costs. 

And so she did.

She told him about Alex, and the way he had seemed so sinceres, and how she thought that for once a boy was actually into her. How it all went town hill, and how they drenched her completely in ice cold water. How she walked in the cold that dried her all up, and ended up in this diner. 

Somehow that turned into a nightlong conversation of anything and everything. Y/n got to hear this stranger laugh once, and it was truly the most beautiful thing she had seen and heard in her entire life. His laugh sounded like suppressed sunshine. Like it didn’t get to be heard so often. The corner of his eyes crinkled lightly, and his eyelids closed together like half-crescent moons. He belted, opening his lips wide enough that y/n could practically read the ‘ha 's off his lips. And his teeth, slightly crooked white teeth; his two front ones noticeably larger than the others, like a bunny’s. Also like a bunny, his nose that twitch each time he tried to suppress his smile. 

Eventually 3am came around, and Harry stood abruptly, saying that he had to leave and a quick ‘it was nice talking to you’ in the middle of y/n telling the story about how she bypassed 10th grade english by comparing everything  to current world events. 

Y/n sat there, stunned, embarrassed, and slightly angered. She asked for the check after a few minutes of basking in his rejection, only to be told by the waitress asked if she had come in alone,

“The gentleman already paid for it, honey.”

Then it was his skin. 

Exactly three weeks later, y/n found herself napping in a ring of hazy bliss. After an exhausting five hour expedition, y/n made it to the clearing all the way at the top. 

She’d been a usual at the riverbed hike for two years now, and one of the rangers who worked at the reserve had told her about the meadow with glowing blue flowers. He’d even given her a map and a list of animals and insects to watch out for. 

So, she’d made a day out of it. Made sure she was up to date with the material she needed to know for her classes, and told her roommate where she’d be and to please not have sex on her bed. All she had taken with her when she departed at 6 am that day, was a thick sleeping bag, a net long enough to encase her whole body, and a basket of food. The rager told her there weren’t any bears in the area, all other animals went in their holes for the night, and the ones she needed to watch for weren’t native to the area. 

She was careful on her climb. Not to brush against poison ivy, or poke against any sharp looking twigs. Her footing was sure, and her energy ready to be depleted. In the end, her passage through the steep and shady trails amongst the trees had been worth it, because at the top, was the most beautiful field of budding flowers. 

The clearing occupied the entire tip of the hill, so the only thing there was to see was the sky and the trees around the open, grassy fields filled with flowers that looked like closed blue poppies. There was a single, massive willow tree, right dead center of the plane, with leaves that hung like long sleeves that kissed and teased at the ground.  Underneath this tree, y/n set up her small campsite. She laid out a thin sheet, and on top of that her pink sleeping bag. 

Completely, and utterly salivating from how hungry she was, y/n sat in a spot that wasn’t largely populated by flowers, and set the net around her so she wouldn’t have to worry about swatting flies away from her food. The net was almost tent like, so she didn’t have to worry about ants either because she would be completely encapsulated by the material. 

She pulled out her phone to quickly check the time, because it was really useless for anything else, with there being no signal and all. 11:55 am, reads the clock. She tossed it to the side, and began to take the items out of her basket. Crackers, cheese in the shape of a circle coated in wax, apple slices, pasta, and pre-opened bottle of champagne that had collected moisture on the outside of the green glass. Y/n had taken advantage of this break, and packed a meal she’d always wanted to eat in a place like this. Her cheese and champagne hadn’t gone bad because she had packed it in a separate compartment that had a cooling lining. 

She ate her pasta, a recipe that she perfected her last year of high school with the help of the culinary arts teacher at her school, and sipped on her champagne. Sweet bubbly tones of pink alcohol rested on her tongue for a moment, before flowing enticingly down her throat. This was chased by the apple slices, and tiny chunks of creamy cheese.

In that moment, she was in heaven. The sun shined on her face, dancing on her nose, and kissing the space between her eyelashes. Her fingers traced the petals of the flowers next to her, feeling the cool, waxy feel of the leaves that hadn’t yet blossomed. There, amongst the wild green grass and in the middle of her third glass of bubbly, she laid in her little net tent and fell asleep with a sweet taste on her tongue. 

For hours she dreamed of green irises and teasing pink lips in the afternoon sun, her plans for reading the tattered romance novel she picked up at the used bookstore completely vanished. In her sleep, she was unaware of the bunnies that came and sniffed at her little cocoon. They stood on their hind legs, and placed their pink paws on the net, barely making a dent as their little noses twitched eagerly and their ears perked on full alert. 

In her sleep, she laid unaware that the handsome stranger who had sat three booths away from her, lurked in the trees and watched her chest rise and fall peacefully. 

His white shirt was once again, barely even buttoned and tucked in to his brown trousers. His hair was tousled, and that damned lock of hair kept getting between his eyes while he tried to watch this angel sleep. 

A creep, he thought to himself. I’m a creep. Leave, Harry. You have absolutely no business here. 

Oh but I do, crooned the devil on his left shoulder. Just look at her. So pure. So innocent. And she looks so fucking pretty, and all I want to do is move that piece of hair away from her luscious lips so it doesn’t flutter this way and that everytime she breathes out. 

Harry wanted to hold her every time her breathing hitched, and fucking shit he didn’t know why because he didn’t even know the girl. 

He needs to leave. Before it’s too late and before she yells bloody murder when she find out what he really is, because that’ll really break his-

“Harry?” she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked more than she needed to because holy shit, what is he doing here. “Is that you, Harry?” Y/n frantically pulled down the zipper of her net, and scrambled out to search through the trees across the clearing because she really thought she’d seen Harry. 

And she was right. It was Harry. 

Harry who stood clad in a white shirt and fitted black pants, leaned against one of the trees. 

He looks better than last time, she thought to herself. Hadn’t he heard her? There was no other noises that the chirping of birds and she’d spoken loud and clear. Was it the champagne playing out her wildest dreams?

No, no it had to be him because he moved, and walked towards her swiftly. Y/n was frozen in place by his dominance. He held himself tall and proud, his shoulders and legs moving a way that said ‘do not get in my way’. 

But he stopped in his tracks right before the fading orange light of the sunset hit his skin. He looked down at his shoes, the tip of his red pointed loafers gleaming in the sunlight. 

She watched him as he shook his head at himself ludicrously, and stepped with confidence out into the sun.

What she saw made her gasp. 

His skin. He’s an angel. He’s an angel and I’m dead. Because only angels glow like that. Harry’s skin looked like millions of diamonds were penetrated into every pore of his skin. A hazy, white light exuded off of him, making him look like a god in a renaissance portrait. 

“Harry, you’re glowing!” She gasped, eyes and jaw wide open.

Harry threw his head back and laughed at her, the skin of his neck glimmering invitingly. “Angel, how much did you have to drink?” His lips curved upwards, exposing his sharp teeth, and with gleaming skin… no. 

Y/n looked at the basket inside the tent, the champagne bottle tipped to its side, next to where her head rested. Empty. She drank the entire bottle? No..no,no she swore there was still more than half left when she fell asleep.

“I-I don’t even remember…” she trailed off, completely lost in thought.

“Enough to black out huh?” He stood right in front of her, and y/n can’t catch her breath because Harry’s glowing and she doesn’t remember drinking an entire bottle of champagne. She looked up at him, and her nose nearly touched his lips. “So, what are you doing up here all by yourself?” 

Y/n’s ears started to ring in that moment, and maybe it was the fact that Harry’s a beautiful creature standing oh so very close to her, or she was too high up and had too much to drink, but everything went black and her body sloped to the ground.

    She had no idea how long she was out, or how she got back into her little tent, and this time Harry was lying next to her. And he was staring at her. He was on his side, chin resting on his palm, eyes searching hers the moment she woke. His profile was illuminated by a bright blue light. Was he glowing blue now? Holy shit, Harry glowed.

    “‘Sabout time you wake up,” he rasped. “You’re gonna miss the blooming flowers.” 

    Y/n got up from her position on the floor, amazed because her head didn’t hurt and she wasn’t sore anywhere. That must have meant that harry caught her when she fell, and carried her into her tent and then laid beside her because she was 100% sure she was nowhere near the tent when she fainted.

    What is going on?, she thought to herself. Why is this man, who abruptly left her in a diner, here, at a place that really hard to get to and also extremely off the radar. And why was he beckoning her out of the tent with his eyes, that looked as mad as the day she met him? Had she done something wrong again? Did she snore while she was unconscious? This was supposed to be a time for her to relax and get away from all her problems. Now, here she was, with one of her problems standing right in front of her.   

    “C’mon now, love. “ Harry’s bends down to the entrance of the tent, where y/n is sitting looking confused and he’s looking passive. He holds his hand out to her, and to his slight surprise, and hers too, she takes it and lets him lead her out of the net.  

    “Harry, what are you doing here?” Y/n questioned him. 

    “Was just taking a stroll around the area,” He says, his eyebrows forever drawn over his eyes, and lips slightly pursed.  

Around the area? It took y/n 5 hours to get here, and she’d seen no one else around taking a ‘stroll’. 

She was just about to ask him rapid fire questions about why he was following her, and who was he and what did he want and why did he leave that day at the diner, but he placed his forefinger and thumb on either side of her chin, and directed her face to the blue light. 

Just like the ranger had said, all the flowers were blooming underneath the moonlight. Different shades of blue, magenta, and purple surrounded them both; buzzing to life with a soft hum. Lightning bugs traveled from flower to flower, feasting on the luminescent petals. Roots in the ground radiated through the dirt, connecting like streets in a city. They all flowed in the same direction, leading up to the willow tree, whos leaves lit up like led light strips. 

Y/n had never seen anything like it before. She was sure that it wasn’t real.

“Oh, but it is.” Harry whispered in her ear, his stubble tickling her cheek. When had he gotten so close? Did she speak her thoughts without realizing it? As quick as he’d gotten close to her, Harry distanced himself, and walked back to the tent, to grab the few apple slices she’d left on her plate. Y/n watched him pick up the now-brown fruit, and as he offered them to her with a stony expression. “Here, you must be really hungry.” 

“I-I don’t want it.” She was caving in on herself, scared.  Because she realized that up here in this serene atmosphere where there was no one else but him and her, anything could happen and no one would know. And she didn’t believe him one bit, that he’d been up here on a stroll. 

Harry must have sensed this, because he sighed in defeat and said “Have you got a bone to pick with me, darling?” He rearranges his stance, spreading his legs shoulder width apart, and folded his arms across his chest in a way that made his biceps bulge against the white longsleeve he was wearing. “‘Cause the look you’re giving me is awfully mean.” He stepped closer to her. Closer and closer until y/n had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. Wisps of his chestnut hair tickled the bridge of her nose, the collar of his shirt brushing against the skin of her neck, making goosebumps prickle and the hairs of her neck stick straight upwards. 

Truth was, y/n didn’t have a single mean bone in her body. And the ‘look’ she was giving was anything but mean, no, if anything Harry was the one with the fierce look. She was cowering, intimidated, afraid. This could go a million and one ways, and all the ones y/n was thinking about weren’t happily ever after‘s. 

“N-no,” the poor girl was shaking, like the thinnest leaf amidst a tornado. “I-”

“What is it?” Harry smirks, reveling in the power he had over her. “Cat got your tongue?” Their tension was thick, the blooming flowers already forgotten. All she could think about was how similar their position would look to the couple on the cover of her romance novel, if only he would put his arm around her waist, and lips on her throat. She thought about the way his lips were close to hers she could feel their warmth. The way his eyes were boring into hers with such intensity, asserting the fact that he’s the one in charge. The one in the highest position, and she could try her best to overthrow him but she would always be vulnerable. With his eyes, he laid her bare, reading her all the way down to the tips of her toes. 

This? 

This frustrated her. So much so that she stomped like a child who had been denied dessert as their meal, and stormed back to her sleeping bag underneath the canopy of the glowing weeping willow. It wasn’t until she got to her spot by the large roots and heard the leaves rustling as their indication that someone else had gone through them, that she realized what she did was stupid and childish and Harry could easily follow her. 

“Angel,” Harry’s voice is much softer now, his arrogant tone completely gone and replaced with a worried one. “What is it?” 

“I don’t know!” Tears began to well in y/n’s eyes, because she really didn’t know. She didn’t know of the uneasiness of her stomach had to do with nervousness of what could happen in a place like this, where no one would be able to hear her scream for miles if it ever did come to that, or if it had to do with this- this feeling she felt every time she thought about him, about their moment at the dinner. “I don’t know what it is and that’s what makes me upset.” 

She didn’t. She was a jumble of tingles and stomach drops because Harry was confusing her so much in that moment and oh god she can’t breathe. Her chest was moving up and down, going through the motions, but she wasn’t getting any relief; like her throat was a punctured straw and what she needed was escaping through that hole before if reached her pulmonary system. Puffs of air were coming out of her open mouth, her shoulders haunching, and her hand coming to rest on her chest before she dropped to the floor on all fours, Harry immediately appeared next to her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing them back so her back would straighten out, and pulled her from the waist so she would sit on her butt. 

“Breath with me, y/n.” Harry wrapped his hands around her waist, making it so her chest was flush with his front. “Listen to me, feel my breathing, okay? Match my breathing now, darling.” But it didn’t work. The only thing his proximity did was alter her senses even more; make her heart palpitate at the higher than higher rate it should’ve been. Black began to spider out from the corners of her eyes, fading in on her vision, disabling yet another one of her senses because her ears had been ringing and she could hardly hear what Harry was saying. 

And this is another thing. Y/n didn’t know what to call it in that moment, but it blew her mind. 

    “Close your eyes,” He whispered into her ear. “Listen to the waves,” And they weren’t anywhere near any waves, but when y/n closed her eyes, instead of being met with the black and blue dots behind her eyelids, she saw the most beautiful beach. White sand, as soft as the tufts of hair on the cat she stopped to pet on the street that one time. Silky and smooth between her toes and against the bottoms of her feet. The sky was the color of a peach; a mix of oranges and light pinks with dark red sat the edges, clouds the texture of the fuzz on the fruit’s skin.  Water, the clearest baby blue she’d ever seen, transforming into white of the sea foam tips of the waves.

    Y/n could hear the waves. A soft whisper of shh-ahh and trickling of water retracting from shore. The bubbling fizzles of sea foam melting into the creamy sand. She wanted to run through it, to feel it sloshing against her skin, but… something was holding her back. A grip around her waist that didn’t budge the first two times she tried to go to the calling shore. The third time, she struggled against the bond, she was let go and met with a bit of a trip from the power she had used pushing against the force. She picked herself up, and bounded towards the calm waters.  

She stood alone, getting closer and closer to the water and letting it touch the tips of her toes, expecting to feel the cool yet scratchy graze of the salt water mixture, but instead she feels... grass?

No, this can’t be, she thinks to herself. Y/n even bends down to touch the water, she’s watching it touch her fingers but she could not feel a thing. 

     Why couldn’t she feel anything? It was like eating with a burnt tongue, you put food in your mouth but didn’t taste anything. 

“What the hell?” she said to herself, standing up straight to asses the situation as best as she could. 

“It’s not real,” grumbled a familiar deep British voice. To her left, was Harry. “Come back to me, now, y/n.” His curls were floating in the chilly breeze, wisping and warping around his face, his open shirt moving the same way the waves were. 

    Y/n closed her eyes again, breathing deeply, not understanding what he was saying and ready to argue, but when she opened her eyes, she was back under the canopy of the weeping willow, illuminated by the glow of the flowers behind the curtain and the fluorescent stems of the hanging leaves. Harry standing no more than five feet away from her, leaning against the wide tree trunk next to here, where she stood on a patch of mossy grass. 

    “You’re a real doozy when you’re tipsy y’know tha’?” He’s picking at his lips with his ring-clad fingers, pulling at his bottom one and letting it pop back into place. “Y’alright now?” Not unlike the first time they met, he asked her what happened because ‘darlin’ it looked like you were seeing’ something tha’ wasn't there’.     And y/n, blinking out of her little day-dream (though it was hardly day-time) said, “I could’ve sworn you were telling me to ‘Listen to the waves’” She dropped her voice down a few octaves, and dragged her tongue to mimic his british rasp, “and when I opened my eyes, I was at the beach.” Harry gave out a low ‘huh’ upon watching her blearily slump against the trunk of the willow while she explained that she envisioned.

    “No darling,” He assured. “I got you to calm your breathing down, then you practically yanked y’self out of m’grip. Then you walked o’va to that patch o’grass r’there, and gent down to touch it.” Harry shrugged carelessly, and crouched down in front of her, watching her through hooded eyes as she stared off into space again, in complete disbelief at what had just happened because first she could’ve sworn Harry was glowing, and now this? 

    “Was’ this?” Harry grinned provocatively, holding the romance novel in his hand, waving it in y/n’s face and successfully managing to snap her out of her reverie. “Didn’t spot you for the clinch novel type. Thought these w’just fa’ women in th’middle of crisis.”

“Hey, give me that!” Y/n scrambled up from her spot, and launched herself at Harry who was still crouched and didn’t have much balance. When the girl reached for the novel, he pulled back from her grasp, causing her to place her hand on his bare, cold chest, and he to fall backwards, in turn causing her to fall with him. 

Y/n somehow ended up straddling him, her chest heaving as she saw where her hand was. On. His. Bare. Chest. The other in between his head and the hand that held the book. Her focus was no longer the book, but how smooth and hard Harry’s skin felt underneath the part of her hand that wasn’t touching the silk shirt.  Peeking just barely from the buttoned part of his shirt was a patch of inked skin that gleamed at y/n enticingly. Almost instantly, she had to suppress the urge to pull his shirt down to see the rest of the tattoo.

    Ever so slowly, she trailed her eyes from his chest, to his inviting neck, and then to his lips. Pink lips slightly parted, realising short puffs of air that matched her own. She saw the sharp incisors that caught her attention at the diner; teeth as white as milk, and sharp enough that y/n thought they could puncture skin. 

    Then y/n’s eyes slitted from his lips, to his eyes, that bore themselves into hers. The usually emerald green irises were now a stormy dark green, the color of the forest on a cloudy day. 

    “I think,” Harry rasps, his hot breath hitting y/n’s lips like vapor from a hot cup of tea. “He looks a bit like me.” His wrists waves the book slightly, and she drags her eyes from him to the cover photo. The rogue, holding the maiden, wore an outfit exactly like Harry’s in that moment, had the same jawline that clenched when it saw her cry that day at the diner. Lips heart shaped and pink like taffy. Muscles that bulged but not as dramatically as most men on the cover of these novels. A curly head of brown hair that flowed freely in the wind of the pirate ship.    

    And vibrant green eyes that were slightly hooded as he teasingly traced those taffy lips on the woman’s neck, who, judging by the look on her face, was clearly enjoying it. 

    “Did y’choose this one because y’missed me, angel?” Harry teased, smirking deviously at her rapidly reddening cheeks. 

    “N-no I didnt.” She tried to push herself off of him, but Harry was quick to drop the book and use that hand to wrap it around her waist, and pull her back down with enough force to knock all the way down. So her chest was tight against his, her stomach against his own, and she could feel the muscles rippling as he pushed himself up with his free hand. 

    “S’not nice to lie, darling.” Y/n wasn’t sure if Harry could hear how her heart sped up every time he called her ‘darling’ or ‘angel’. Or if he could feel the butterflies fluttering madly in her ribcage, fueled by those pet names. “Tell,” He brought his face closer to hers, “me,” Closer, so the tips of their noses were touching. “The truth.” His eyes locked on hers, searching for an answer, for approval. “Did you miss me?” This time, it wasn’t just his breath that she felt fanning on her the span of her lips and chin, but she could smell mint on his tongue. Every movement that his lips made, she felt it, caressing against her own. 

    Y/n swallowed thickly, her hands grabbing fistfuls of Harry’s silk shirt, not caring if she wrinkled it or not because whatever happened next, whether he kissed or humiliated her, she needed to brace herself. 

    “Yes,” She breathed, “I missed you, Harry.” 

    And that’s all the answer Harry needs to press his lips against hers, both of them feeling as if stars are colliding as their lips did. Their lips brushed against each other softly, gently, like butterfly wings fluttering; coming just close enough that he could inhale the gusts of air that left her lips.  Harry was reveling in how warm her lips felt against his; how sweet the remnants of champagne and apple and just her, tasted on his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of it. He needed more. More explosions, he needed the galaxy to combust and he wasn’t going to get that with the playful licks they were exchanging. 

    So he pressed harder against her mouth, mushing his against hers like he wanted to destroy them. She reciprocated his harshness, not caring about the scratches Harry’s stubble left on her skin, her hands moving to frame his face, loving the feel of his smooth, milky skin. Her tongue fought against his, tasting the mint and champagne? Subtle traces of champagne lingered on his tongue, his tongue that licked into her mouth like flames. The hand was wasn’t holding Harry up, grasped the back of y/n’s neck, as if to keep her from escaping. 

    Their dance went on for a few moments, until y/n needed oxygen. She pushed on Harry’s chest a few times because he just didn’t want to unlatch from her. When they both did separate, Harry’s eyes stayed closed until she spoke again.  

    “Did you miss me, Harry?” Y/n panted, searching Harry’s eyes, wondering why he still had that stony expression on his dreadfully handsome face. She hummed when Harry’s eyes opened, quirking an eyebrow up at him, giving him a sated puffy-lipped smile. 

    Harry smirked at her, “I missed you, little angel.” He fixed his grip on her waist, and lifted her so he could turn their positions. She, lying beneath him, and he, hovering above her. “Now give me another kiss.” And she did. She returned her hungry licks for hours, and eventually her lips went numb from often they were rubbing against Harry’s, and how cold it was getting. 

“Harry,” she said amidst kisses, “it’s getting-” Harry groaned in protest as she separated herself from him, “cold. Let’s get in the sleeping bag.” 

    He quirked a brow at her this time, “You want t’get into bed w’me, dove?” Y/n’s stomach somersaulted at the name, a pink blush like the smeared pink eyeshadow, spreading on her cheeks. 

    “You’re a real scoundrel, you know that?” She tucked her head into the crook of his head bashfully. “M’cold.”

    “Alright, lets go to my place then.” He sits up, with her on his lap. She slides down his torso and she becomes hyper aware of the fact that her crotch was against his. 

    “You’re place? Right now?” Y/n asked, trying not to let her emotions show through her tone in anyway. 

    “Yes.” He nods. “When I said I was taking a stroll, I wasn’ lying.” 

    So, Harry picked up her things with one arm, and held her close to him with the other. Though, she wasn’t getting any warmth from him, because he was cold to the touch as well. Y/n followed him through the now dimming flowers, and out into the trees where he had been watching her sleep. They made what seemed like random twists and turns, and at one point they climbed over a large oak tree that had fallen over. Harry grabbed y/n by the waist and helped her down while she suppressed a blush. 

    Covered in a ring of trees, was Harry’s house. A cozy little cottage with curved cedar shingles on the roofing and a red brick chimney. She definitely hadn’t expected a cobblestone trail leading up to a white-clapboard house shrouded with rose shrubs, and windows, windows everywhere. It was a small quaint place, with a white picket fence that was useless in the middle of the woods.

    “Welcome to my home.” Harry opens the little gate proudly, sending y/n a cheeky wink.

    “It’s very pretty,” she comments. She liked the little swinging bench on the  porch. The hanging plants, and the red frame around his door.     When Harry opens the door, a cinnamon smell wafts from the inside. Harry sets her stuff on the floor, stepping aside to let her come in. He flips on a switch next to the place where he hung keys and coats, and the inside lights up. A golden gas lamp illuminated the living room softly, splaying over the brown couch covered in fluffy throw blankets. Bookshelves in the place of where a TV would’ve hung, pots of flowers on lampstands, pieces of framed artwork on the walls.  

    “Wadda’ya think?” He said. 

    “I love it. It’s cozy, and it smells,” She inhales deeply, the scent of cinnamon and bread filling her lungs, “delicious.” 

“It’s pie. Baked it this morning.” His hands disappear into the pockets of his black pants. And he adds,  quietly, “Let’s get you to bed, and I’ll let you have some tomorrow. How’s that sound?” 

“Okay,” y/n murmurs. Harry takes her by the hand, and leads her up the stairs and into the last room in the short hallway. 

Harry doesn’t turn on the light this time, and let’s go of y/n’s hand to light a candle. He sets it on what she assumes is the bedside table, and in the dim light, she watched him remove his shirt, the silk material revealing his tattooed skin. There were too many to count, but enough to look at. 

“S’not nice to stare.” Harry gave her the shirt she was wearing, standing cockily with the other hand on hooked on his belt loop. Even though y/n had been caught, she didn’t remove her wandering eyes, trailing consistently over the butterfly on Harry's very sturdy abdomen, so appealing, the few sparse hairs that grew coarser as they reached his zipper leaving her tongue nearly lolling out of her mouth. 

With shaking fingers, she reaches out for the shirt, clenching the material in a tight fist like she had when she braced herself for Harry’s kiss. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled shyly, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to another, waiting for him to take a hint and turn around. 

“Want me to turn around?” She nods in response, biting her lip as she salivates at the way his back muscles flex with every slight movement. It takes her a moment to avert her eyes from his statue-like body, and discard her soft sweater and shorts for the silk shirt 

Her skin feels like it was being bathed in cool water, the shirt moving freely, just like water. 

“All done?” Harry’s voice bounces from the wall in front of him, to her burning ears. She was done, realizing that the shirt only just barely went past her butt, stopping mid thigh, and there were no buttons , except for the three going up to the valley of her breasts. 

“Yes, all done.” She says, voice wavering nervously, because she hoped that… “do you have a spare room?” 

“Baby,” There go her inhibitions, “you’re sleeping with me.” Harry cooed at her, his thumb coming to swipe gently on her cheek, and he kissed a soft spongy kiss on her nose. 

“A-are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with me in your space or anything lik-” Y/n began to rant, her fingers swiping her hair behind her ears. 

“Y/n, I thought you’re be comfortable sleeping with me,” he pouts, eyes looking into hers and his thumb still lightly rubbing the space underneath her lashes. “But if you want me to sleep on the couch, I’ll do that. You just have to sa-”

“Okay.” She interrupts, breaking eye contact with him and staring down at the floor, at his muscular legs that were still covered in black material.  She yawns, gets into his bed, and because she no longer knew what morals were, she didn’t care that the shirt moved freely up to the curve of her back, giving Harry a clear view of her underwear covered bum.  

There’s a distinct tearing sound, as Harry rushes to remove his pants and climb into bed with an astonished y/n.  A primal look of hunger nests deep in his eyes, clawing out as he places his hands on y/n waist and sits her on his lap to continue what they’d paused in the field of glowing blossoms. He didn’t start off slow like before, instead pressing his mouth so hard against her pliant lips that their teeth bumped against each other and their noses rubbed against each other in a harsh Eskimo kiss. His hands knew little to no boundaries, coming to instinctively rest on the part of her thighs that came just before the back of her knees, pulling her impossibly close to him; so close in fact, that y/n could feel his erection pressing, rutting against her pulsing center. An action that elicited a mewl from her, and a feral groan from Harry.  Underwear, was the only thing separating them; keeping Harry from finding closure to his erratic thrusting against y/n, who in return, returned an equally desperate friction against his cock. Grinding, to put it in words, so close to ecstasy because Harry knew that y/n felt that she couldn’t have sex with him yet but they had to do something despite the fact that she still had her doubts; she’d just met the guy and she was questoning her sanity as it is because she’s one step away from sex with a man who’s last name she didn’t know.

“That’s it, baby.” Harry grunted into her mouth, swallowing each and every moan that left her lips. Smacking lips, heavy breathing, and rustling sheets were the noises that bounced off the room. 

“Harry, I-I’m,” Staccato ‘ah-ah’s left her busy lips, hips bucking at their own accord and her mind completely blank because the only thing she wanted was sweet release. Pink cotton panties completely soaked through, the scent of her arousal wafting and filling his nostrils and all he can smell her tangy aroma. 

“I know baby. I know me-” BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three hard knocks on the door startled and separate them with a wet suckle, both of them turning to look with wide eyes at the opened door of Harry’s dark bedroom. Their hips were still unconsciously sliding against one another, y/n turning to dig her face deep in Harry’s neck because ‘Harry please I’m so close’.  Begrudgingly, he turned to place her on her back, flat on the bed so he could see who in the world is at the door at this ungodly hour.

“I need to go see who’s at the door, darling.” He sponges kisses on her neck, his nose inhaling deeply in the soft juncture of her jaw, whining because he’s so fucking hard it hurts and she smelled like honey and roses and all things pure in the world. 

Unwillingly, Harry leaves his (not so much anymore) little angel on the big bed, spread eagled with roses blooming on her cheeks, eyes blinking mawkishly because she was still twitching with not yet there ecstasy. Her lips swollen and shining with Harry’s spit, buzzing with sparkling electricity that she felt when he touched her; looked at her. She’d come to the conclusion that Harry’s character consisted of serious and salacious looks. And based on the awkward smiles he’d given her when they first met at the diner, he didn’t do it often, so she didn’t take it personally because he was being so cold with her. Actually, she was relishing the attention she received from him, the lingering touches, the flashes of something in his eyes. But there’s a factor of missing identity that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, it’s what held her back from pressing on the matter. Because she was scared of what could subjectively be a deal-breaking answer. She was on a never ending see-saw with herself, loving the feelings that ignited within her, and wondering what could be the missing puzzle piece to this man who she didn’t even know. Jesus Christ, what are you thinking? This man could be a-

“Zayn, I’m not going to ask you again, get the fuck out of my house!” Harry’s angered voice and travels from downstairs, all the way up to is room, where y/n jumps up into a sitting position and reaches to cover herself with a pillow because someone is bounding up the stairs, making them rattle and shake from the rapid pace, opposed to Harry’s and y/n calm walk.

“Oh, Harry…” taunted a second voice, this one jovial and not as deep as Harry’s, with a european accent, but more on the hippie side.  “You know the rules man, if Cal-”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Harry’s roaring at this point, completely enraged and then another set of stomps catched up the ones that were coming up the stairs. Y/n was listening to this interaction, and slowly inching closer and closer to the headboard with her knees pulled tight into her chest, toes the only thing peeking out from underneath the pillow she clutched. 

“Let’s see whoo you’ve got-”     “Walk AWAY, Zayn!” 

“Pent up all alone-” Then a heavy thudding noise accompanied with a disgruntled ‘nugh’ and a distinct noise of a body rolling down the stairs. The second voice is silent, and Harry is breathing wetly, as if there were strings of saliva between his tongue and lips and drooling down his lips like a dog’s agitated maw. He murmurs a broke ‘fuck” and the steady rhythm of feet up the steps continues. 

“Baby? Baby? Y/n,” Harry steps through the door, shoulders heaving up and down radically, nostrils flared, and just like she’d imagined, strands of spit connecting the side of his lips that were pulled back to reveal nearly each and every one of his teeth. Blame it on the dim like, sure whatever, but in that moment, his unusually sharp incisors extending at least an inch from the gums like the infamous folklore being of the undead. He tilted his head away from the light with crazed eyes, searching for y/n in the sparsely lit room. 

She sat up a little, Harry’s wide eyes immediately snapping to hers and his body jumps to action. Faster than she could blink, he appeared next to her and picked her up, his shirt bunching up to her stomach, exposing the little white bow on the band of her underwear, and Harry’s still-hard member twitches in his underwear. His biceps straining and stomach muscles clenching as he picks her up from the bed, the pillow still in her arms.

“Y/n, honey, we need to go,” Harry rushes out, breathlessly. “We need to leave, c’mon, let’s-lets get you home.” And he takes her out of the room in his arms, y/n looking at him still muddled in the state of pending euphoria. 

“What- What’s going on?...” That’s when she saw the body. Slumped on the stairs was amale’s figure, lying on his front with his head tilted to the side so y/n could see that he had a bloody nose and blood trailing down from his a cut on his thick eyebrows, coating his thick lashes and onto his exotic lips. ��Harry!” she gasped. “ What?..” 

“It’s alright, angel. Don’t worry about that.” Harry turned her away from him, but she managed to twist her head to look over his shoulder at the slumped body that was getting smaller and smaller as Harry bent to pick her things up from next to the door, and walked out. “Just a prick that doesn’t know how to mind his own business. He’ll be awake soon and he’s not here for tea,” Before she knew it, Harry was carrying her out the door and rounding the corner of the house. The cold breeze hits y/n legs and the sides of her arms, and she could only imagine what Harry , who was only in his underwear, was feeling. 

She didn’t have time to admire the scenery of his home, because she was put in the passenger seat of an all black car with dark tinted windows parked behind the cottage. 

“Put the belt on love,” Hands unnecessary thumbed at her thighs, eyes searching hers for… for… for what? Heart shaped lips gaped open and closed like a guppy fish, trying to tell her something but not being able to find the words.

“Harry, is everything alright?” She asked, still clutching the pillow to her chest. Her kept flicking from Harry’s still pink mouth, and his frantic eyes that seemed almost.. scared. He was scared. 

He hesitated a bit before responding. Opening and closing his mouth once more before nodding and murmuring, “Yes, angel. Everything’s fine.” and he smiled sadly at her, lips curling inwards.

He closed her door, and curved around the front of the car, placing a ringed hand on the hood of the car; the same hand who rings, just a few moments ago, had sent cold shivers to her hot clit. The thought brought warmth to her cheeks, and she buried her nose into the pillow to avoid staring at Harry while he hurriedly put on a pair of dark green tattersall pants and dragged a zipper over his hard male heat. 

The car purred to life,and Harry crushed gravel underneath the car's tires and he quickly pulled out of the driveway. Speed pushed y/n into her seat, and Harry looked over at her like she’d forgotten she was there, he blinked at her, and then turned his attention back to the oddly straight road. One hand on the wheel, and the other, pensively running a forefinger back and forth his bottom lip. 

Harry was out of his mind with worry. Worry over why the fuck Zayn was at his house. Over what would happen when he returned. Worry over what he would say to y/n when he left her at her doorstep and never saw her again. And worry over what in the hell he was going to do with himself because he was sure that by now, the head of his dick was an angry purple, and it hurt like a-

“Harry?” The sweet voice he learned to treasure over such a very short time, called to him. “What happened back there? Is this like, I dunno, a mafia thing? He’s the money collector, and that’s why you had to leave? Or was he-”

Her wild imagination humored him, and he gave her the smallest of smiles, a faint smile like the one he’d given her that time at the diner. “No, darling. M’not a bad guy. I promise.”     “Yeah, that exactly the kind of thing a bad guy would say.” she scoffed, turning her attention to the passing scenery. 

“‘Think that if i wanted to something t’you, ‘would’ve that time at the diner, don’t you think?”  She’s quiet. Doesn’t say anything to Harry’s response. Doesn’t do anything , at all. Like she didn’t hear him.

“Why did you leave?” She’s still looking out the window when she talks, so her voice is muffled. “That night at the diner. You left so quickly, I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.” 

Now Harry acts like he didn’t hear her. 

“Hmm?” She hums expectantly, suddenly turning to face him. She knew she was prodding, but she longed to hear any kind of explanation. 

“Had something t’do,” He’s voice was quiet, almost at a whisper, and his slowed words muddled together even more in his british drawl. 

“At 3 in the morning?” Y/n squeaks, her tone going high enough that it cracks. 

“No, at 6 actually. And it’s a three hour drive to where I was goin.’”

Her heart was pounding; blood roaring in her ears. She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. But did it matter? All she wanted was any kind of explanation, and she’d gotten it. So, she slumped defeatedly back in her seat, deflated that Harry hadn’t tried to apologize for his inconvenient timing; didn’t offer any kind of expansion on his explaining. 

Y/n spent the rest of the ride scowling; glaring at the passing trees. Angry for letting herself get caught up in this situation, for not questioning anything earlier. But how could she? There was something about Harry that reeled her in like a fish to a worm on a hook. Hooked. She was hooked on him. Couldn’t get enough of him. She figured that he was the burning light mosquitoes were attracted to, and she was the stupid bloodsucking bug. And she was bound to get burnt. Maybe this was a sign, that the next he popped up unannounced, she was to run and yell bloody murder. Because even though she was just about to let him take her a million ways and one, it wouldn’t ever be. It was completely illogical; crazy, in fact, because she had just met this guy once before. 

But it all felt so familiar with him. That’s why she didn’t hesitate to do anything. It felt like maybe, if the concept is true, she’d known him in a past life. Because his touch didn’t feel like just a superficial human tissue to tissue contact… no, it felt like it was his way of communicating all the things he couldn’t say out loud because he was scared to. 

His grip on her thighs wasn’t just an ‘i want you’ it was a ‘please stay, and let me show you how much i need you’. His featherlight touch to her cheeks was his was of saying i don’t want to ever hurt you. His lips told her this is how you make me feel. 

And y/n… adored his attention. His stern lingering gazes. Call her easy, but this man was a god and he was looking at her. How could she say no to that? Not when dickheads like Alex were throwing ice cold water at her on a breezy October night. Not when she was all alone in a makeshift paradise and so drunk out of her mind she imagined him glowing. 

“We’re in the city, darling. I need y’to tell m’where y’live.” Harry’s murmur was just barely louder than the engine smoot rev. 

“On Yves and Smith. Laymane’s Apartment Complex.” 

Harry didn’t take that long because he was already on Yves Street, and they were a block away from Smith. He pulled to a stop in front of the the red-brick building, and reached behind her chair to pull out her basket, that had everything arranged neatly inside. When did he even have the time to do that?

“Thank you,” She said, looking past Harry, at the apartment’s front steps like she was dreading stepping through the door. Which she was, she knew that once she got out of the car, she’d never see him again. Harry watched her, taking everything in, and imagining what could have been. “You wanna come in?” Immediately, she knew it was a bad idea because her roommate is nosy, and she’d make them both uncomfortable. 

But Harry shook his head, and with pinched eyebrows, he said “No, I’ve got a problem to tend to.” He looked away from her then, clenching his jaw so hard the side of his face contorted. 

“Right,” She went to remove her buckle, and paused slightly before she clicked the red ‘push’ button. Y/n placed the pillow that was no underneath her basket, in the backseat, and she opened the door. Turning back to look at him once more, was when Harry leaned across the console, took her face in both of his hands and gave her the softest kiss yet. Even that, stirred the heat that had not yet quelled. 

“Goodbye, angel.” Touching his forehead against hers once, and kissing her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, Harry’s heart began to burn. It took his breath away, and he turned away from y/n and towards her apartment to bite on his knuckle and squeeze his eyes shut. It felt as if someone was driving a red hot stake into his heart, twisting it as it drove into his chest. What the?...

“Bye, Harry.” His chest flared with heat at hearing her honey lips murmur his name for the last time. Then it all stopped the moment she closed the door of his BMW.

Harry stayed a few moments longer, to watch her legs as she curved the hood of his car, and climb up the steps. Her- his shirt rode up in the subtle wind, and flashes of her butt winked at him cheekily. She wasn’t even trying and Harry still found her attractive. He had to refrain from stepping out of the car and holding his shirt down for her all the way up till she was inside her home. 

Y/n realized, when she was unlocking her door, that she hadn’t thanked him for paying for her strawberry milkshake.

“C’mon y/n! What’s the worst that could happen?” nagged her roommate, Megan, who held a glimmering golden dress to the length of her body, twisting and turning in front of the mirror. 

“Oh, please don’t try and get in my head right now,” y/n begged. “I barely have room for myself in here.” 

It was 6 pm on New Year’s Eve, and they’d both been sent an open invite to their mutual friend Adam’s houseparty. Y/n wanted to stay in and spend the night with her new romance novel and a heavy heating blanket but, Megan was dragging her to the party because she claimed that all y/n ever did these days was go to school and come home. She was lying on her roommates bed with her chin on her palm, when Megan set the dress on her bed, and began to drag y/n by her ankles.

“Then let’s get some of you out of your head and out of this apartment. Y/n you need this.” Megan stopped pulling, and turned her over to shake her by the shoulders. “If you go to this party,” Her eyebrows wiggled like a walking caterpillar, “I’ll do our laundry for a month and buy that ice cream from the asian market you like so much.” 

“HA! If you washed my clothes, all my whites would end up colored,” Y/n poked her tongue out at her roommate, and let her push her into her room. 

“You got anything good in here?” Megan opened the mirror door to y/n’s closet, and started going through every hanger. “Or am I gonna have to let you borrow- Holy shit y/n! When did you get this?” 

Megan holds up the fine piece of silk y/n had shoved into the very back of her closet. Harry’s white shirt.  

After going weeks without seeing or hearing from him, y/n kept the shirt, and hid the painful reminder that she had spent one intoxicating night with the most attractive man she’d ever met. She thought about him every minute of everyday, and ever dream of every sleep she ever takes. Heck, her heart burns and yearns for him so badly it physically hurts. Like she was being lit aflames from the inside; red hot fire licking every artery, every vein. Sometimes it got so bad she doubled over in pain, retching breathlessly. 

She tried to forget about him, but he was everywhere. In the pie that Megan brought home a week after y/n didn’t get her promised pie. In the cross at the altar at church every sunday. In the cups of hot chocolate she had to stop drinking because they reminded her so much of his hair. In her fucking toothpaste for christ’s sake. And in that stupid shirt that she slept with for the first week because it smelled like him. Cinnamon and vanilla and something earthy that was just him. 

“This is GUCCI Y/N!” Megan squealed, shoving the fabric in y/n’s face,and when she tries to take it back, Megan pulls away from her. 

“Give it to me,” Y/n said, getting off her bed and chasing Megan, who ran to the other side of the room.     “No, if you want this back,” her friend wiggled her eyebrows again. “Come to the party with me.”

Without hesitation, y/n agreed because that shirt was the last she had to prove that her enchanted night wasn’t all a dream. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. Now give it back,” 

“Nuh-uh” Megan ran into her room across the hall from y/n, and locked the door before she could get inside to chase after. She begins to panic, hoping that Megan isn’t doing anything stupipd with one of her most prized possessions.

“Megan, that shirt means a lot to me. Please be-” She has a hand raised to start banging on the door, but Her roommate opens the door with a big smile.

“Don’t worry babe, just using it as insurance,” She pats y/n’s shoulder and walks back into her room. “Now let’s get you ready.”

 It was 10pm when they arrived at the house, which actually turned out to be the entire top floor of a really nice apartment building downtown. Adam had decorated the place himself, and you could tell by the bean bags, lazy boy chairs , and plaid couch that were strewn everywhere. A long table in the center of the room was set up with plates and utensils at every chair, wine bottles and glasses lines up in a straight row all the way down the table. There seemed to be one bottle for every person, and more by the amounts that were set in the table at the entrance. A calm yellow glow of mood light from strips of fairy lights surrounding the room was an odd combination with the awfully loud guests, some already clearly piss drunk. 

Upon arrival, y/n had been immediately separated from  Megan, who was gone before y/n could turn and mutter something sarcastic about the party into her ear. Adam had greeted her quickly at the entrance, giving her a bottle of 5% strawberry cider complete with a pastel pink ribbon at the neck. The gangly, freshly 21 year old, looked frazzled, turning his head this way and that every time his name was called because last minute decorations were still going up at the photobooth section. 

“So glad you could make it,” Adam distractedly pressed a kiss to her cheek while he hugged her, yelling to someone about how ‘the only kid in the room was Charlie at he was 16 so if you don’t play some real fucking music-’

“Yeah, me too,” Y/n said quietly, almost to herself because Adam had walked away to snatch the bluetooth speaker from the guy with lousy taste. Seconds later, a trendy hip-hop song blared throughout the entire floor. 

Desperately, y/n searched the place for someone, anyone, she may have recognized at the stupid party. If I had just been able to stay home… she puffed her cheeks, and blew air out from her lips wistfully, the cold bottle of cider helping the dread weigh her down.  

She figured she’d take the bottle of strawberry bubbly, and go up the stairs she’d spotted in the corner of the room. The quick but seemingly endless walk that required her to walk in front of the heavily populated lounge areas, and the section of the room where a golden curtain and sparkly 2019 glasses were being passed around, brought rosy tint to her cheeks. Even though she knew that no one was lookinng at her, and once she passed the door to go up the steps, no one would even miss her, she was still embarrassed to be potentially seen walking by herself, dressed in a lousy last minute mint green slip dress (the same dress that reminded her of Harry’s eyes), at a New Year’s Eve party meant to congregate with others; to celebrate another year. And while that’s usually something she was good at, getting piss drunk with others at holiday parties, this was the one year that she was dreadfully sad. A shadow of loneliness loomed over her shoulder wherever she went, reminding her that she was painfully alone. She could’ve been surrounded by people, laughing with others, or even making out with a guy a year younger the back of her Human Interactions class, but that same damned black hole would still be at the pit of her stomach, draining away any sort of ‘happy’ that she managed to get. 

The poor girl was miserable. And up on that rooftop that overlooked that nightlife of the city, while she unwrapped the pink foil on the bottle of champagne all alone on New Year’s Eve, it all accumulated like a rolling snowball, and hit her like a truck. Barreling towards her at full force, and she had no way to escape from her sorrow. It really felt like she was all alone in the world; that everyone avoided her like she was the plague even though it was the other way around (she the one who boarded up her house). 

She sipped away at her problems, and they collected on her tongue with the taste of fermented strawberries. Her “problems” fizzled in her tongue and down her throat, bitterly sizzling and air bubbles popping in her esophagus. 

Maybe it was the cider that caused an acid reaction, and initiated the burning that crawled all the way to the center of her heart. But y/n knew better. She knew these came regularly, and stronger when she missed him. And when they came and she remembered, the pain only increased, almost suffocating her. This was one of those times, where she remembered him, his eyes popping into her mind, and she grabbed the railing because it hit her so hard she almost fell over. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” with one hand, she held the rail that overlooked the city, and with the other, she clutched the bottle to her chest; kneading with earnest, trying her hardest to dissolve the knot of fire that has developed in her heart. 

“You alright there, babe?” Red sneakers appear in y/n’s line of view, and the guy who they belong to crouches down in front of her and titles his head at her. He’s got blue eyes and soft looking caramel hair swept to the side. His lips are a little on the thin side, adorned by scruff on his jaw. “Want me to get you anythin’?” He’s got an accent faster and chirpier that Harry’s, y/n thought. Big mistake. 

She falls completely to the floor, vision almost going black because she wasn’t getting any oxygen. Y/n’s body started to convulse, her back arching and hands wildly pulling at the collar of her dress.  They had never been this bad. 

“It burns,” She was yelling now, gasping for air with eyes so wide it looked like they were going to pop. 

“Shit, fuck, uh…” whispered the blue-eyed boy. “I’m going to get cold water,” he was talking aloud to himself, because y/n was unaware of everything going on. The only thing she knew was the pain in her chest. 

When the blue-eyed boy disappeared down the stairs, another ,more malicious voice is audible, this one reaching y/n’s struggling ears because this voice she knew. This voice she had heard somewhere before. “Finally, ‘thought the chap would neva leave.” An arabian nose and thick eyebrows make their way into her line of rapidly fading view. 

It was him. It was the guy at Harry’s house, the one knocked out on the stairs and he was picking her up.  He was carrying her somewhere, whistling as he does so. By now, the pain has lessened, and y/n is more alert than before, her head hung limp on this man’s shoulder, who smelled like the old spice her middle school boyfriend used. 

“What’s happening?” She said groggily, going to rub her eye, but poking herself with the open bottle of champagne that she was still holding on to; some of it has slipped down her green dress. 

“Ah, you’re awake,” the man looks at her, and then y/n remembers his name. Zayn, I’m not going to ask you again, get the fuck out of my house! Zayn. “Good, good. We’re gonna have some fun. Well, I’m going to have some fun.”

Y/n tried to push herself off and away from him by shoving his chest, but her efforts were to no avail, he didn’t even budge; like he was made of stone. 

“Let me go, Zayn!” She huffed.

“So you do remember.” He laughed, a deep resonating cackle. They were heading down the stairs, but instead of going towards where everyone else was, Zayn made a left turn down a dark alley. The darker it got, the more y/n could see that his eyes…. His eyes shined red like a lighthouse. An otherworldly aura about him, that shook y/n to the core. This man, well to put it simply, she knew, a tug in the pit of her stomach, wasn’t human. And when he suddenly stopped and bent his head to sniff at her throat, the sound of a knife taken out of his sheath evaded y/n’s ears, and she knew that Harry wasn’t human either. 

 She knew why Harry knocked Zayn out, when he  sunk his teeth into her  with a low ‘you smell delicious’. A pinch, like thick needles sliding into her skin, caused her to drop the bottle of champagne onto the floor. 

Y/n tried, she really did, to push Zayn away. But he had positioned her so she was standing, and his forgein strength tied her to his body with a single arm, and the other held her head in such a way that made it each for hm to lick and bite. The girl was stuck in a permanent state of ‘deer in the headlights' shock, frozen on the outside but writing frantically on the inside. Why couldn’t she move? MOVE Y/N! 

A tingling sensation spread all from her toes to the top of her head, a honey daze of warmth that made her slump in Zayn’s arms. Oh she liked this, the soft stage of your feet going numb is what she was feeling. Vibrations, waves, currents-

“Zayn, I fucking warned you,” Harry.  Holy shit whatever this was, she hoped it kept going because she swears- “You’re going to wish you died the first time,” 

It was Harry. Harry standing not even two feet away, green eyes glowing like headlights; beams. Harry has the same expression on his face as when Jordan Belfort yelled ‘MY KILLAHS!’ to all his employees.  A crazed snarl, and he was lunging at them like those wild cat documentaries shots, where the mountain lion is jumping in slow motion for the poor and soon to be dead deer. He pounced on the side of Zayn’s body farthest from y/n, yanking Zayn’s head back by the hair on the nape of his neck to pry him away from her neck. She gasped wetly mewling and gazing at Harry with a ‘not quite here’ look in her eye. Harry wrapped an arm around y/n’s waist, hoisting her over his shoulder and out of Zayn’s hold like a sleeve. 

“Haaarryy!”  she slurred, slinging her arms around Harry’s neck, while he held Zayn up against the wall in a chokehold. “Missed y-you,” y/n’s hiccuping, as if she had drank the entire bottle of cider that had crashed onto the floor. “Not now, y/n.” Harry looked into her eyes sternly, threatening her to even try  and disobey him. “Go back to the party, I’ll be out in a bit.” He was shunning her, chastising her like she’d been a bad child. In her spurious state of inebriation, y/n pouted and huffed, even stomped a little, but listened to Harry nonetheless and skipped towards the bright light of the party. 

The blue-eyed man, who was actually short (her height actually) walked past her without a second glance, head directed straight on with a purpose. Y/n, adopting a la la la  attitude, simply shrugged and went back into the remarkably loud  party, and sat down at the head of the still empty table, and poured wine for herself with the bottle that was on the table. 

“Y/n?” Megan appeared next to her, gasping and squealing obnoxiously. “Y/n! You little slut, that is a mean,” hiccup, “h-hickey.” Megan took the sit next to y/n, and snatched the bottle away from her, slurping straight from the mouth ungraciously. 

“Y-you,” hiccup, “left m-me.” Y/n pointed a finger at Megan, her voice small but accusing. 

“I-it’s” hiccup, “only b-because, Conrad said that h-he,” hiccup, “would show me a good time. B-but, it t-turns out that all he,” hiccup, “wanted was a bl-blowjob.” 

“Who’s,” hiccup, “the s-slut now?” Y/n giggled, twisting her neck in a way that showed off the large purple splotch, and stretched the sore skin in a manner that caused her to whimper an ‘ouch’.

“Neither of you,” interrupts a deep voice that causes them to look up and see Harry standing with the same expression y/n had seen on him when she saw him at the diner. Furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw, cold eyes and a glimmer of something in them. “It’s not nice to insult each other the way you’re doing.” He looked at y/n while he spoke, gazing at her so intensely, she wiggled in the cushioned seat. 

“She started it,” Y/n whined.

“Well look at her n-neck!” Megan leaned onto the table, and began to mutter something else, but fell face first onto the plate and started snoring. 

“Why don’t we get something on tha’, hmm?” Harry picked y/n up by the waist, and left his arm hooked on her waist while he looked for the restroom. 

“Where’s Zayn?” asked y/n, stumbling on her feet giddily, staring at everything she passed, the vase on the stand, the couples making out, the generic picture frames, the couples making out. 

“Tha’s none of y’concern,” He turned into the restroom, and sat her down on the toilet seat. Closing the door for privacy, he took her hands into his face and quietly watched her for a moment.

“You know Harry?” A dopey smile spread across her lips, eyelids drooping halfway closed. “I know what you are.” 

“Do you, angel?” Harry’s thumbed caressed the soft skin underneath her eye, a movement of instinct that he didn’t even have to think about doing because it happened on its own. 

“Like it when you c-call me that.” Y/n whimpered, and turned her face into Harry’s hand like a kitten looking for more pets. 

“Tell me what I am.” Harry said tenderly, encouraging her to answer by guiding her face to his. “Tell me what I am, angel.”

“V-vampire.” She blurted, “You’re a vampire. Why didn’t you tell me you’re a vampire?” 

“I thought it would be better that way, darling.”  

“Better? Feeling my heart burn isn’t better.” She pouted. 

“What did you say?” Harry’s demeanor perked up like a dog who’d been asked if he wanted to go outside. His eyes looking from her right to left one, searching for an answer. 

“I SAID… I said my heart burns.” Y/n was slightly irritated that Harry had asked her to repeat herself. Because hadn’t it been perfectly clear what she’d said? And why was she so tired? 

“Your heart burns?” He asked, trying desperately to keep her awake, because he has felt the same exact burning in his heart during the time she was away from her. In fact, he’d gone through a spasm just moments before he arrived on the rooftop to send Zayn to hell. 

“Yeah,” hiccup, “That’s what I said.” She nodded pitifully, lips curving upwards. 

“My heart… burned, too.” 

“You missed me?” Y/n said excitedly, her heart beating faster at the thought that Harry may’ve missed her to. “Because it hurt whenever I missed you.” 

“Baby, I missed you, so much.” And Harry kisses her. He leans in to close the gap between them, smashing his lips against hers with all the emotion that had pent up within him throughout the past weeks. 

“I’m so mad at you.” Y/n says when they break apart, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, the same tears that spilled on her pillow the nights after Harry said goodbye to her. 

“I almost did. That time at the diner, I left before the sunrise so that you didn’t see my skin glow. And that time in the field, it wasn’t the champagne. I drank it before you woke up. And then at my house? I almost sunk my teeth into you, just like Zayn did. And when he came in, he came in ready to drain you because he finds you just as delicious as I do. I thought you’d be safe if I never say you again after I left you at your doorstep, but I was so stupid for that.” He says, pressing his forehead against hers, and mawkishly rubbing his nose senselessly against hers. 

“...Would’ve liked it better if you bit me.”

Harry inhales, in disbelief that after all he had said, this is what she came up with as a response. “Oh, don’t say those kinds of things to me, baby. You don’t know who’s cage you’re rattling.” At her whiny and desperate words, his dick twitched with a sudden surge of heat, hardening rapidly at y/n’s words.

“Wanna rattle your cage always, Harry.” She placed her forehead on his chest, rubbing her lips on his collar bones back and forth a few times. “Please don’t leave me ever again. Think I’ll die if you do.” She yawned, and fell slack against Harry’s chest. 

And Harry? Harry stood in the restroom of a college student’s New Year’s Eve party, cock hard in his pants, completely bewildered that y/n had murmured those words to him. But, he hugged her to his chest and said, “I’ll never leave you again, my sweet little angel.” And he wouldn’t. Because after putting off staying with her, and seeing what the results were, he’d never leave her side again.

STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO!

much love, -abigail

[paintedface]

The Notification of your Name

Summary: You’ve been dating your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes, for an entire year, but you’ve never actually met him. 

Pairing: Internet Boyfriend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3415 Words

Warnings: literally none. is fluff even a warning?

Notes: Thank you to @whyisbuckyso for beta-ing this, even when you were busy af! I also know that if you live in an apartment, you’d normally have a PO box, but for the story’s sake, it was a tiny package delivered into the apartment mailbox. They may be ‘rushing’ it but like,, they’ve been dating a year already. also the gif below is my image of bucky in this one, just without the beard and a lil younger looking. 

Permanent Tags are OPEN | masterlist

A notification sounds from your pocket and you pull your phone out quickly as you slice open the tape of one of many cardboard boxes, piled up in the corner of the room.

Bucky ❤:

How is my beautiful girl this morning?

Grabbing a stack of throw blankets from the box and tossing them onto the couch, you quickly tap out a reply.

Y/N:

I’m doing good, now that you have me blushing

You take the time to look around your new apartment, relieved that your best friends had helped out with the furniture placement, and now it was just up to you to decorate the rest of the place. University’s given you the chance to finally get a place of your own, and it’s everything you could’ve wanted. Enough space to have your friends over, and not too big to make the place feel lonely.

Bucky ❤:

Aww, I bet that’s a nice image ;)

Y/N:

Shut up you handsome jerk

James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky as he likes to tell people to call him, is your boyfriend of a year. Since you started talking, you could never put down your phone, as there was an endless supply of notifications of FaceTime requests, SnapChat photos, texts and a variety of other apps. The thing is, even if you’ve skyped almost every single day, you’ve never actually met the guy.

It wasn’t your decision to join Tinder, your so-called two best friends, who were always waltzing around with their boyfriends, decided that you needed one too.

“Y/N, I swear to god, if you don’t make one, I will.” Samantha tells you, dangling your phone from your fingertips.

“I don’t, fucking, need one!” You groan, attempting to snatch your phone from her grasps, to no avail.

Nicolette rolls her eyes, perching on a barstool as she sips on some exotic Starbucks beverage. “Sure you don’t. Y/N, you deserve a guy who’ll treat you right. Or a girl, maybe even one who doesn’t identify as either. Still! You’re lonely, for fuck’s sake.”

“I can find a guy without a dating app, okay?” You slump on the couch when Samantha threatens to throw the phone out of the window.

Both of them raise a skeptical eyebrow at that and you huff, crossing your arms. “Fine, I can’t. Just do it, okay?”

“You’ve got a match!” Sam screams, as Nic and you scramble over to see who you matched with.

All of your eyes widen, almost comically, when you see who it is, because shit.

“Holy fuck, can I steal your tinder account so I can steal this guy away?” Nic says breathlessly, and you’re able to grab your phone off Sam, pinching yourself to see if you’re seeing things right.

Yeah, maybe letting your friends set up an online dating profile for you wasn’t so bad.

Day and night, you talked about everyone and everything, talking about movies, awkward social situations and so much more. You were hooked with him, and the first time that you facetimed, you both practically started crying. He told you to wear no makeup, to be yourself, and the whole time, Bucky was praising you and your face. He was hesitant to show you his metal arm in action, from a nasty car accident two years ago, but you told him that it was so fucking cool. You’re both nerds. But he’s a hot one.

After you’ve unpacked most of your boxes, your two idiots of best friends come and swing by, taking you to a local diner. It’s a classic, stereotypical American diner, with milkshakes and burgers, but you love it. A brunette named Darcy takes your order, her smile wide as you make small conversation with her.

“So,” Sam leans forward on her elbows, “Doesn’t Bucky live in this city?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before your hands cup your mouth in surprise. “Shit, I think he does!”

You pause before you can get too excited, and you lean back into the booth. “Wait, but what if he doesn’t want to see me?”

Nic smacks your arm, glaring at you. “He’s your fucking boyfriend, Y/N, what do you think? He loves you!”

Sam shakes back her hair, taking a sip of her milkshake. “You think he’d pass up the chance to meet you? You two are made for each other, and you’ve been dating for a year without seeing one another! That’s gotta mean something.”

You nod slowly but you bite your lip still. “What if I’m not what he expects, though? What if I don’t live up to-“

“Y/N! You’ve facetimed so much, that I swear you know each other inside out. I promise,” Nic rests a hand on your arm, “That if you do end up meeting, you’ll be more than fine.”

“Not to mention your expression whenever you see a notification from him, it’s hilarious!” Sam snickers, and before you can punch her, Darcy comes along with your food.

“Who’s him? Who’s the special guy that this lovely lady likes?” Darcy asks, leaning on your table, her eyes sparkling when you realise that she heard almost all of your conversation. You can’t stop your two friends from sparing no detail from Darcy.

When you arrive back home, you see a thin package wrapped in brown paper and string, sitting on the floor outside of your door. That’s weird, you think, because any package would normally be delivered in your mailbox outside of your apartment block.

You see that the delivery details on the brown paper are definitely yours, though the name is your Mum’s. You carefully tear open the paper and the edges of your mouth curls up when you see a small, fresh dot-journal in there. You told your mum that you wanted one, to organise your life once you moved in, and she obviously already got one delivered to your apartment.

You put it in your bag, but before you can crumple up the brown paper, you see a small note with delicate black script stuck on the other side of the paper.

Hi new neighbour (I heard all the general moving chaos),

This was accidentally delivered to my mailbox instead of yours, so I decided to put it out here. I’m pretty sure nobody will steal it. Hopefully.

Sincerely,

James (Apartment 306)

You grin at the note, and pocket that as well. You’ll have to meet this James person one day, apparently he’s in the room opposite you. Already, you’re having good feelings about staying in this new place.

A WEEK LATER

Of course, the day that you remember that you have a shift at the coffee shop, is the day that you don’t actually have a shift at the coffee shop. As soon as you shut off your alarm, you realise that you’re already up and there’s no point going back to sleep. Brushing your teeth and putting on some makeup (so you don’t look quite so dead) and cute yet comfortable clothes, you grab your keys and get ready to head out. The diner makes some really good breakfast food, as Darcy has proved, so that’s your morning destination.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder as you tap out a text to Darcy (you ended up exchanging numbers after the first time you met), you don’t notice that somebody else is coming out of the opposite apartment. You let out a shocked gasp as you walk into somebody at the same time that somebody walks right into you. They stumble back a little and your phone slips out of your grasp from the collision. You instantly begin apologising, while you’re scrambling to obtain your phone from the floor.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” You exclaim, as the other person tries to catch their breath.

“No, it’s fine, I didn’t see you either! Hey, you’re the new neighbour, right?” He asks a little shakily, but he lets out a chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, I am, I moved in a week ago.” You take the hand that he offers you, before standing up. “My name’s…”

You trail off instantly, eyes widening in shock, seeing your expression mirrored by the man in front of you.

“Y/N?!” “Bucky?!”

You stare at each other, and your heart is thudding so fast and so loud that you think that Bucky can hear it.

You’re expecting it to just be a trick of the eye, but he said your name too. He looks so much fucking better in real life, looking like he was sculpted by the gods themselves. Soft, wavy brown hair falling over his forehead, stormy blue eyes, clear, smooth skin and a jawline that would probably give you a cut if you tried to touch it. Just looking at him makes your legs buckle a little.

Suddenly, you feel strong hands grip your waist and you squeal as he spins you around effortlessly, his broad, husky laugh filling the air. He pulls you into an impossibly tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you clutch onto him tightly. You’re pretty sure the grip that you’re holding each other in is painful to the two of you, but nothing else matters but the fact that you’re finally, finally in each other’s arms.

“Fuck, baby, it’s actually you?” He whispers breathlessly, muffled by your skin against his mouth.

You nod, rendered speechless as he pulls away a little.

“Shit, Y/N, I can’t believe it. To think that just this morning, I was gonna message you to see if we could meet up, all romantically. But here I am, in a singlet and boxers, in front of the love of my life.” He chuckles softly, and your smile is so goddamn wide that it hurts your cheeks. Not to mention the blush that’s quickly appearing at the ‘love of my life’.

“To be honest, you look great in a singlet and boxers. I’m not complaining.” You grin, finally recovering your voice, and he glares at you playfully, but a smile breaks onto his face. 

“Of course you wouldn’t be complaining, you get the good view.” He murmurs, before he pulls you back into a close embrace, shutting his eyes as he nuzzles the top of your head, ghosting his lips over your hair. You can feel his metal prosthetic resting on the curve of your back, it’s cool to the touch, and it’s him. It’s Bucky.

“I still can’t believe it’s you, Buck.” You say softly and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. It doesn’t feel forced, or awkward, it feels like he’s been doing it to you for years.

“I know, neither…” His actions still, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Hold on. If you’re living there…” He points to your apartment’s door, before continuing, “Then whose name was on that package I left outside?”

You giggle, looking up at his confused puppy dog expression. “That was my mum’s name, she sent me a journal.”

Realisation dawns on his features, and then his fingers tighten on your waist a little. “Are you actually my neighbour now?” For a moment you’re paranoid that he doesn’t want you to live across from him, but judging by the wide smile on his face, you’re pretty sure he wants it.

“Apparently I am.” You shrug lightly, and his eyes are shining so brightly that you’re probably going to be blinded by it. But at least he’d be the last thing you’d see.

“Well, my beautiful girlfriend…” He murmurs in your ear and fuck, it’s so much better hearing him say it in real life rather than on FaceTime, “Would you like to go out to breakfast with me?”

Your heart leaps and you nod, before giving him a small smirk. “You’re gonna go out in your current ensemble? I mean, it’s fine to me, but it’s pretty chilly outside.”  

“Oh right, I forgot about that.” He doesn’t let go of your hand as he unlocks his apartment door. “I was gonna go down to the lobby to get an iced coffee because I don’t have any coffee left, so I didn’t bother to change.”

You step through the door into his apartment and your mouth parts slightly, looking around. It’s got a similar layout to yours, but it’s filled to the brim with unique hints of the man himself. Framed posters of action films, vinyls stacked in trays, fucking succulents on the window sills…now you can remember seeing some of them in the background of his facetimes and skypes.

“I’ll be right back, doll, but make yourself comfortable. I was binge watching Brooklyn 99.” He kisses the top of your head, setting butterflies fluttering in your stomach, not wanting to let go of him. He’ll be an apartment away, every day from now on, you think to yourself. You watch as he disappears into his bedroom, before you plonk yourself down on the sofa, immediately dragging a blanket around you. You can smell a hint of his cologne on the material, rolling your eyes at yourself for your gushy actions, before pressing play on an old Halloween episode of Brooklyn 99.

“Fuck, Y/N, I come in all smooth and prepared and then you’re curled up in a blanket? How am I meant to compose myself then?” A voice groans behind you, and you turn to see Bucky standing there, with his arms folded and a pout on his very kissable lips. He’s wearing a shirt with the top buttons undone, with a sweater and denim jacket over the top. As well as skinny jeans, boots and a scarf wound around his neck, his hair still slightly ruffled. His metal hand is exposed, warming your heart to think that he’s already comfortable to show it, around you.

“I’m not meant to look cute, I’m meant to look dead.” You reply simply and he snickers, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap.

“Well you’re not succeeding at looking dead. You look even cuter in real life, babe.” He tells you gently, letting out a content noise as he noses at your hair.

“It’s so fuckin surreal to see your face out of the screen, Buck.” You lean up to run your eyes along his features again, still trying to comprehend that he’s here with you.  

Bucky gives you a warm smile, running his gaze up and down your body. “You too, beautiful. Now,” He grunts a little as he stands up, pulling you up with him, “May I take you to breakfast?”

“Well, well, well! Who do we have here?” You laugh as Darcy waltzes her way over to your booth, speaking in a sing-song voice. Bucky refused to sit on the other side of the table, not wanting to let you out of his arms.

“Darce, this is Bucky. Bucky, Darce.” You say, and Darcy instantly shakes his hand, her eyes bright.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Bucky. So you finally met, huh?” She brushes back her dark curls, before sitting down on the other side of the booth with her order pad ready.

“Mm hm, entirely by accident. We ran into each other…” Bucky says and after a beat, he mumbles, “literally.”

Darcy raises an elegant eyebrow, before poising her pen over her notepad. “Well, why don’t you tell me all about it over a breakfast on the house?”

Darcy doesn’t stay for too long, giving you the chance to talk more with Bucky, but her being, well, Darcy, she still gets a lot of information out of the two of you.

“So…” Bucky takes a sip of coffee, before shifting to look at you. He smiles again, one of those quirky yet beautiful smiles. “I’d ask to come over to yours tonight, but you’re sort of only a few metres away.”

You grin back at him, arms tightening around his neck. “Well, you’re welcome to come over, I’ll give you the key one day. If you’re able to walk across the hallway, old man.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Since when am I old? I’m only a year older than you.” He pinches your side gently and you jump, giggling.

“Anyone older than me is elderly.” Your throat hitches when he stares at you, resting his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath tickling your lips, and he slowly leans in, his lips brushing yours…

“OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT!” Somebody screams from the door and the two of you jump apart, blushes on your face, though your hands remain intertwined.

You can see Sam and Nic run full speed towards the two of you, before simultaneously sliding into the opposite booth seat.

“Why do you guys always ruin the perfect moments?” You mutter under your breath.

THE NEXT DAY

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, doll.” A low voice says, and you look up from your desk, ready to knock out the asshole who’s trying to hit on you. Your fists instantly unclench at the sight of Bucky, and you collect up your laptop and books into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“How’d you know which lecture I was in? Do you even go to this place?” You ask curiously, following him out into the university’s main hall. Even his walk is like a proud motherfucker, making you feel like a teen with a crush on a jock again.

“Of course I go here! I thought you knew that! And I’m pretty sure you told me that this was your last class of the day, so I naturally assumed that you’d be here.” He shrugs, winding his arm around your shoulders.

“Y’know, it’s a lot better knowing that I can see you after Uni instead of having to FaceTime you.” You give him a smile and he smirks back.  

“You’re right on that one, gorgeous.” He drawls, giving you a sideway glance that makes you weak at the knees. His impossibly smug look fades when you move closer to him, a blush creeping up his face.

You notice, and you grin to yourself as you loop your arms around his neck, watching as his tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Not so cocky anymore?” You ask softly, the corner of your mouth quirking up and he swallows audibly, running a hand through his soft brown locks.

“Fuck, Y/N…I can’t, when you’re this close, you know what you do to me.” He groans quietly and you giggle a little, before resting a hand on his cheek.

“Is this okay?” You say shyly, and he nods instantly, drawing you closer with his metal arm around your waist.

“More than okay, beautiful. I’ve wanted this for a year.” Bucky breathes, before finally, finally, connecting his lips to yours, urgent yet lovingly. You can’t stop the little gasp from slipping out, before pressing forward. It’s everything you’ve wanted and more, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss. He tastes of sugar and caffeine, he tastes of something you’ve been missing. And when you finally part, breathing heavily with wide smiles on your face, you realise that even if you’ve been dating online for a year, having him here, with you, is all you need.

A WEEK LATER

Incoming Phone Call from:

Bucky ❤

Your smile widens, and you press ‘receive.’

“Yeah?”

“You know how you gave me a key to your apartment?”

“Mm hm, Buck?” You cross one leg over the other, pointing your toes.

“Wow, you have a really nice kitchen.”

You lift an eyebrow, raising your head from the pillow, ears perking up. “Y’know, that sounds really creepy.”

“It’s not creepy if it’s true. Wait, no, never mind. I don’t have a way with words.” He says, and you see the bedroom door open, your boyfriend stepping through with his phone to his ear. White singlet and boxers, fuck, that’ll be the death of you.  

“That was even creepier, Buck.” You tell him as he crawls onto the bed, covering your lips with his own gently, before pulling you into his chest.

“I know. I just shouldn’t speak anymore.” He grins, clicking off his phone and tossing it onto the bedside table, before nuzzling the crook of your neck.

“You’re such a dork, Buck.” You tell him, pulling the covers over the two of you as you turn on your TV.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

permanent tags (OPEN): @vibranium-arm​ / @gallifreyansass​ / @omalleysgirl22​​ / @girlwith100names​​ / @buckysinthesinbin​ / @cameronahugenerd​​ / @imsecretlyromanburki​​ / @megan-atthedisco-blog​​ / @buckys-fossil​​ / @iamwarrenspeace​​ / @sofiathearab / @alohabucky​​ / @buckyappreciationsociety​​ / @debbielovesbucky​​ / @metal-armed-dino​​ / @helloitscrowley​​ / @sebastian-stans-thighs​​ / @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics​​ / @hela-goddess-0f-death​ ​ / @feelmyroarrrr​ / @mjuikoli​ / @meganliiz​ / @yoyolovesbucky / @srgntjbarnes / @carriefish-er / @jurassicbarnes / @ssweet-empowerment / @shieldagentofthemonth / @palaiasaurus64 / @i-love-superhero / @infiniteholland / @ailynalonso15 / @bywonater / @vanillaicecrusher

(strike through means I couldn’t tag you, sorry!)​