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nighttimeoracle · 2 years

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（＋１８）１０ｔｈｉｎｇｓａｂｏｕｔｙｏｕｒｓｏｕｌｍａｔｅｐｔ．２

Since someone already asked for it, I bring you guys a new list of 10 messages that would help you identify the energy of your future partner or spouse. Just think of your intention before picking one pile (or two? We are never too greedy in matters of the heart) from below.

I warn you: this reading is like a Pandora Box 😈. Once opened, you can expect anything to come out! Such as your SO's personality, physical description, career, preferences at sexy time (guaranteed) or a direct message for you.

English is not my mother language, so please bear with me.

Pile I → Pile II

Pile III → Pile IV

✨Pile I✨

To honor the masculine energy from this pile I'm going to use he/him to address the person being described here, ok? He is an inventor. He might be an engineer or scientist. His mind goes so fast! I was bombarded with images as soon as I pulled one card and I felt he experienced the same with his innovating ideas. He got a great imagination and intuition, and tends to hold his chin frowning when he's pondering over an idea. Plenty of "Eruka!" moments. Jimmy Neutron’s vibes. For some of you, this could be your future spouse.

Not going to lie. This person could be Asperger or be within the autistic spectrum. He’s highly functional, but his social skills and the way he deals with intimacy is not what you might expect or had encountered before. This is a brutally honest man. He means no harm, I would even say he remains innocent and incorruptible, but he lacks tack. Plus, he enjoys being alone a little bit too much and can lose all sense of time easily.

He is a star in his job field. He's known for his polemic ideas and inventios. Has earned many prices and recognition from their professors and well-known people. He's like a celebrity. This person seeks glory and surpasses himself all time. He's goal oriented, ambitious, and hard-working.

He looks like a golden retriever. I swear I'm not making this up, lol. Light curly hair, brown eyes under thick glass, rounded face (which makes him look younger), and a dimple or scar on his chin. He likes wearing flannel shirts, the green one he owes is his favorite. They're a walking cliché. He looks like a nerd and is a very cute one.

His personality is as complex as his feelings. He’s easily misunderstood, people think he’s too caught up with his own ideas, heavily criticized for his hyper focus. He has experienced rejection his whole life, leading him to be a hermit by choice and focus on his interests alone. A random fact: he has a comfort item. I think it could be an action figure from their childhood. He could a be collector as well.

Despite of all the above mentioned, they're kind and funny. Sometimes a bit childish, too. He's genuinely a good person, yet a bit obnoxious and detached. Gets excited quickly and he is bright like the sun! Got a big wide smile. If he chose you like his friend, you would belong to his inner circle forever.

He’s patient and methodical. He operates the same way in love. You will feel under no pressure by his side and like you're dating a celebrity, but he's too focused on his work/interests and will make you wait for days/weeks to go meeting you. He might give you the impression he is not interested in you at all, but big news! He has acted the same way towards past lovers and he hasn’t learned anything from then. It's only his fault his dating life is dead.

You might feel insecure by his side because of his continuous absent or how slowly your relationship seems to evolve. He is sort of well-off, the smartest person you've ever met, and good looking... "I bet the ladies are throwing themselves at him when I am not around", could be one recurrent thought of yours. He can seem unpredictable to you, too. But let me tell you two secrets: I swear this person is not fully asexual/aromantic by a biological miracle, so some worries of yours would be unfounded. Secondly, they might not be overly affectionate, but they would be both fascinated and touched by your warm and care. This relationship has a karmatic quality to it. You two could’ve ignored people and hurt them in the past, were self-absorbed and lost in vanity, one of you or both had to deal with a narcissistic parent. You would be projecting on each other.

You're an insecure person and this relationship will hit your Achilles's heel in order to heal your wounds and expand your conscious. You're probably used to fast paced situationships which would be the opposite from this one. But you're not the only one here to be challenged, dear. Your person got to learn to listen and understand his lover and see you're more than a pretty face and a baby maker... He is old fashioned in the sense he thinks he should tight the knot and reproduce with the person he dates for the longest.

In sex they could be into role-playing. He would pretend to purchase the services of the most alluring and dangerous female fatale in town, or you would have to pretend you're guilty of charges and your lover would handcuff you before passing down the sensual punishment on you. He also likes sex in the water but making it comfortable with candle lights around, soft music playing on the background and he might even insist on washing you. He would pour liquid soap on your tits then proceed to rub and massage them tenderly, delighting himself at the erotic image and your loud moans. You can expect to spend a Saturday night within a jacuzzi or a private hot spring with your sweetheart. He's fascinated with the idea of having sex in the rawest and more natural way… yes, with the idea of creating life.

I'm glad you've made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if want to share them on the replies.

I can give you a "10 messages of your soul mate" reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info.

I do accept tips or donations through this link.

✨Pile II✨

I’m getting prominent masculine energy from this pile, so I will address this person as a man for a matter of convenience. He’s facing the same hardships from a colleague student or a rookie at his work field. He hates capitalism and his current job. He might feel misunderstood or pressured by his parents and/or society, but he’s too proud to open up about his worries or problems with his friends. You already know this young man or you’re about to. You will know it’s him by how thin he looks, the dark shadows under his eyes and his five o’clock beard.

He would like hanging out with you. It distracts him from his drawbacks, plus he feels you’re sticking out for him in a different way. You don’t ask him difficult questions, you focus on having a good time and his comfort. You would be worry of his health, and he finds enticing you would always suggest meeting at a place where you can have a meal and chat in a relax environment.

I hope you haven’t been disappointed by the first hint I dropped at his appearance. He’s slender, yes, but possesses muscles in all the right places and wide shoulders. White complexion and defined cheek bones, people joke about him almost being casted as a vampire in the Crepuscule movies or something along those lines. He’s tall and has a fine bone structure, this man possesses such a sex appeal and his masculinity is fully displayed. There’s a queue of females hoping to get his attention.

There would be a high sexual tension between the two. He knows he should be focusing on reaching his goals first and settling down later, but he can never ignore your calls and would try to leave some time in his schedule to go meeting you. He won’t be able to shake you off from his thoughts, but not everything in the garden is rosy, dear. He tends to castrate himself from pleasure in favor of status and success. He relies on security a lot and he’s also the type to believe he can’t commit to a partnership if he doesn’t have the resources to provide for his lover. He might find himself at odds about what to do with your connection.

This man is emotionally complex. He’s a serious and logical person, but he acts fatherly at times and is empathetic with the people he cares about. Lowkey, he seeks for compression and to have emotional connection with the other. He would like to be friendlier and vulnerable, but I think he missed the chance to nurture that tender side of his as he once was a child required to grow up quickly. He would instinctively hide these truths from you because he’s ashamed.

He hates to be treated like a child or nuisance, yet he’s infatuated with you and your motherly affection and thoughtfulness (mother issues detected). He’s quick to feel guilt and you might notice when he’s feeling remorseful around you. He’s a terrible liar. I sense he directs his anger towards himself alone, he doesn’t have issues with facing off, it just… it’s useless to him. He might be half diplomatic, half profit-seeking, so he might not upset anyone that could be useful to him. This stubborn and proud man would give the cold shoulder instead.

He is into outdoor activities, he feels called to be close to nature, thus you could go hiking together or taking a stroll in a park. He’s definitely a dog person, he might owe a dog and you might end up in a date in a dog park or having a picnic day and he took his dog along. He is a magnet to animals, so don’t get surprised when all the strays come running to be petted by him. At this point it’s painfully obvious he’s an Earth sign. If you google “Capricorn” and search for images, the first to pop up would show you a picture of his face.

He’s a mother’s dream son-in-law, lol. He seems to be popular around elders, mothers and daughters. He’s well educated, polite, accommodating, and money orientated. People will trust him quickly and believe he got a great future ahead. But he can’t help to feel he’s being watched all time. The expectations of others on him pressure him to surpass and innovate himself over and over. He got to deal with a lot of stress in his daily life because of this. Thanks to his unique circumstances, he was able to fully cultivate his cognitive intelligence and become a great advisor. He could be a law or psychology student.

Not going to lie to you. Your connection might feel highly therapeutic to each other, but specially to him. We got he has issues with being vulnerable, yet he would find himself opening up to you slowly. There would be times when he would just spill the beans and feel embarrassed later. Whenever he’s feeling frustrated or like venting, his speech would turn sharp and slightly violent. It would feel like you’re watching a play, you could find it dramatic and incredible how deeply this man’s feelings can run. You will pity him, but can empathize with him, too. Both will share a sense of mutual protection and trust. A traumatic confession might turn into a night of passionate sex.

It’s an all-or-nothing-in-bed type of person. He’s into practices that seek “trust” and “vulnerability” and that might inspire fear to the inexperience. I’m not talking about dark or forbidden sex per se, but he’s diffidently into bondage, blindfolding, gagging, sex toys, and dom-sub dynamics. You can expect him to pin down your wrists above your head while he’s thrusting into you, and giving you deep kisses that would leave you without oxygen if they last a bit longer. He’s an intense lover, and once he had left all inhibitions behind, he would go wild below the sheets. You wouldn’t have to worry about being mistreated, since he would be sticking out for you inside and outside the bedroom.

I'm glad you've made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if want to share them on the replies.

I can give you a "10 messages of your soul mate" reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info.

I do accept tips or donations through this link.

✨Pile III✨

I’m getting a lot of feminine energy from this pile. This could be a woman but if you’re into men, this one is not afraid to express his divine feminine energy. He’s tender hearted, thoughtful and serene. He’s a natural teacher, people are attracted to him because they’re sure they could learn something from him, even if they don’t know what exactly. He might give off the image he’s a religious man or highly spiritual. He’s a luminous being, children and animals are attracted to him. His chart is a curious mix of Taurus, Aquarius and probably Gemini.

He might not be very talkative, though. He rather listens, watches and then act. He’s sort of a prodigy, he’s fairly young but he was gifted with wisdom and fortune in regard of opportunities and/or wealthiness. He’s like a hermit, he would warm up to others, but wouldn’t allow them to get too close. He might feel used by people and then discarded at times or it’s a primal fear of his, but I’m getting it’s him who does not know how to set healthy boundaries.

I’m going to be frank with you. You will have to chase after him and gain his trust. This is a challenge and although you might feel discouraged at times by the seemly lack of progress, you would recharge your motivation each time you are recalled of his potential and the loving person he actually is (while it’s charming you believe in him, beware of making up too many excuses for him). I know it might not be enough or worth the effort for some people, your friends might even try to dissuade you from wooing this person, but he could’ve reminded you of your past self and that’s why you wouldn’t give up easily on him. This pile is for the go-getters that were timid once and the people who has not confessed their love for anyone ever. This man would inspire you to try new things and get in contact with the side of you that still believes in romance.

This is not a heartless or invincible person. He won’t ignore you if you approach him to talk or to seek advice, he’s always eager to provide guidance and to have intellectual exchanges. He responds to kindness and humbleness very well, so you will be able to melt the ice wall between you eventually. This could be the best student of your class or your boss’s son, for some reason or another you two can't avoid to interact since you belong to the same community. You might bond over light themes like a favorite tv show, music, food or pet peeves… He will be very invested in the conversations you have and might find your perspective on things really innovated or the way you speak is witty and full of emotions.

Oh my, Cupid's arrow will hit this man and he might not realize it right away. He could start overthinking of your conversations and the way he would like to pick up where you left next time he meets you. He wouldn’t be fully aware of how often he’s reminded of you. You might catch him staring at you from afar or approaching you to ask you for small and almost absurd favors. You might find yourself thinking, “it’s really simple. Why is he asking me to do that?” His odd behavior will confuse you since he’s unable to tell what’s wrong or what he wants from you. You would frustrate him equally while making him experiment new emotions. I’m getting this person is not known for dating or engaging in love affairs, but you would shake his resolve.

He doesn’t fool around. He’s worry of hurting people so that’s partly the reason why he doesn’t go for flings either. He’s sensible yet ignorant of the emotional world and stuff like romance or dating. He might not see it as a necessity, plus he´s under too much academic or professional pressure to care for those things. But he´s tempted, you know? This connection would take off when the Universe is inviting you both to do some inner work and integrate major changes. He’s only slow-witted when it comes to relationships, so it might take him some time to digest and start acting on his feelings consciously. You will wake him up and make him realize of his longings and the neglected parts of himself.

I don’t know how old some of you are, since I’m getting messages for seemly young people and some of you might be older but new to love experiences. This connection will bring you a lot of “firsts”, like your first date, love confession or sex encounter. You will explore together the stars and while that could be an allusion for pleasure, there’s something about nighttime, secrecy and making wishes that would be important to you. I’m getting you will go star sighting or on a date in a planetary museum. None might feel comfortable sharing with the rest you’re seeing each other or you would wait until you’re officially together to release the news. You would be very intimate with each other and exchange your deepest secrets.

I think he’s an old soul. This hasn’t stopped him from learning and trying new stuff, though. He speaks multiple languages, do well with math and could be interest in one specific culture (he might be a descendant of immigrants then it’s his culture). He’s very artsy and might excel at activities like sewing, cooking and cleaning. He’s into painting, doodling and making jewelry. He’s an overall clean person, like mentally and physically. He could be an architect, teacher or nurse at present or later on.

This connection could suffer some delays. He might need to go overseers for work/studies or you might need to focus on working on your thesis (in case you don’t belong to the same class). This is a general reading so the scenarios will be different for everyone, what I can tell you right now it’s you would be texting each other a lot until you can finally meet again. I can tell you might lose easily to each other and forget about the real world and responsibilities. It might even happen so often that you would be facing hard consequences later and “those delays” are actually you two dealing with jobs behind or unattended life areas. Be careful guys, you might fall hard for this person and would be required to mature sooner if you want this relationship to last.

He is a massive freak in the sheets. His fantasies would leave you speechless. He’s into handcuff, blindfolding, belts and oral sex. He’s such a dom! He wants to immobilize you and make you beg for his cock. He will get you to scream out of pleasure. He can come off like too intense and he will thrust slowly and in depth you. He might not mutter a word during the act, only grunts and heavy breathing. His approach to sex is very intuitive and raw. He might enjoy to be watched by a third party or sex in the open is a go for him. He likes to fuck, he’s not cute in the sheets and he might have to hold himself a little so he’s not too rough on you. While he’s not very emotional involved during the act, he’s all into aftercare and cuddling and would seek your praise.

I'm glad you've made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if want to share them on the replies.

I can give you a "10 messages of your soul mate" reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info.

I do accept tips or donations through this link.

✨Pile IV✨

Another pile with prominent masculine energy, thus I will use he/him to address this person. He’s known for being a lucky person and quick-witted. He got expressive and bright eyes, they could be green or light brown. He’s tall with long limbs and with a good sense of fashion. I don’t know why I’m seeing the image of a man wearing a tuxedo. I suspect he might have to dress formally because of his job, although I can´t tell whether he’s a salary man at present or still a student. He has a youthful appearance that can fool anyone about his real age, plus his personality is warm like melted caramel and charming. He’s the type to gift lollipops to children and flowers to ladies. He might not even suspect that’s a sign of flirting for the latter case, so yeah, he can be oblivious too.

He’s cunning yet he doesn’t have anything to hide or his every action is see-through to anyone. He might be a childhood friend or someone you would get along so well and have such a familiarity with that you might feel like you’ve known each other forever. You might have a group of friends in common or you would start interacting more openly during an event or game. I can sense people around, but the way he would treat you is different, almost intimately and you couldn’t help to feel all fussy inside yet very confused. You might believe he’s hard to read and would obsessively compare the way he addresses you with how he speaks to the others. I see a lot of overthinking and suspicion coming from you, but let me enlighten you, the experience would be real and his interest for you genuine.

You might’ve gone through a recent breakup or there would be something haunting you (could be mental illness or having too much on your plate) by the time he would display full interest in you. It could’ve started with him noticing you were down and wanting to cheer you up, then he would get more engaged after knowing you farther. You might not take him seriously at the beginning, you might think of him like a clown or someone out of your league (I’m sorry to say this, but some of you might not admit he’s out of your league so you called him a “clown” instead to delude yourself.) Trust issues detected, but they do come from you, not him. He would still persist on getting closer to you and eventually you would warm up to him.

He’s into games and sports, so he might challenge you to compete on your area of expertise. You might be a sporty person too, or you’re more into gaming or board games. He’s super versatile, he can do all those, but he would definitely follow your lead. His love language is providing quality time, so he will try to make the most out of the time you spend together. He wants to have fun and this person is mentally restless, so I see him asking you questions or going for intellectual exchanges. He would fascinate you and leave you breathless at times. You might feel like this is the first time someone has ever gave you so much attention or like you’re hanging out with the most interesting person around. He has anecdotes to share and he’s so good at storytelling.

He will take you on an emotional roller-coaster or any equally adrenaline ride. If you’re a bit closed-up or got issues opening up to others, you will to this person and he would become your best friend. This connection might not have tittles for a while, but it would be painfully obvious to anyone your confidants and into each other. He would want to introduce you to his friends and take you to parties, but don’t worry, he will keep an eye on you all time and he would be fairly protective of you too. He’s a social butterfly and he will attempt to make you get loose a little. He might come off a bit forceful at first, only because he got your best interest at heart, but you got to tell him when to stop or whenever you’re feeling uncomfortable and he will back off. Remember, none of you is a mind reader, so communication would be key for this connection.

This connection will trigger positive changes for both and getting expansion within social and emotional areas. I think this person is too good on putting on a “everything is fine” mask, so you might have troubles seeing him for who they are or not idealizing him, but with time this mask will crumble down and you will see the human behind and the unattended wounds. He might be friendly and popular, but he too got trust issues. He doesn’t usually speak about his hardships or emotions with others, so your friendship would be really special to him by providing him a safe space to vent and be himself. You would have to be a little bit patient with him since he might not fully realize his romantic feelings for you until later. He’s dense as a rock when it comes to love. He might be a bit of a flirt, but if you confront him about it, he would tell you he’s only being nice to people. He’s not lying to you, but I get why it might still annoy you. Here’s a secret: he might turn uncharacteristically shy and loss at words before the one he's crushing on.

He’s someone who is very sensual and possesses the gift of timing. The pauses in his speech, the side looks or the seconds it would take him to bite his lower lip and release it look rehearsed by how smoothly they’re conveyed. This is not someone loud or childish per se, but he might be filterless when speaking and he cannot stay put on one place. He’s always ready to go on an adventure and will drag companions along. You might not like him upon meeting him. You might find him inconsiderate, fake-ish, and a show up. This is the type of person you tend to ignore based on your own prejudges until he managed to turn the table on you. I don’t think you’re bad people pile 4, I see you will be projecting your longings on this person. You actually wish you were like him and are bit envious of his outgoing personality. Just remember you have good qualities too and this person's admiration for you is not an illusion, they would like you for who you are.

You might like wearing jewelry or have a special attachment to some type of clothing. This man too, so you might find him the most attractive when he’s wearing that jacket or you find yourself staring often at a necklace or piercing he always wears. He’s a “main character” in your opinion yet this person would want to please you and might even let himself be bossed around by you. He sees a queen bee in you, his queen bee, and will shove you in front a mirror so you can see the masterpiece you truly are.

This connection has the potential to be one unforgettable and like a romance of a fairy tale, but both will need to work hard for that. You would need to be more trusting, since I see you ignoring him for a long time or playing hard to get. This person is not a victim nor a saint either. His obliviousness can hurt people and they might beat around his feelings for you. He might fear the real shit, you know? You two got to find a way to be vulnerable with each other, otherwise you would be stuck in a friendship that would turn into a psychological torture and you would have no option but to split up.

You might dancing around each other before making a decisive move on your connection like a love confession or stuff, but you have it easier for sex if you both are into casual flings. Well, this person won’t deny you and you might even make his day if you propose to have a night of passion. You can expect he would want you to ride him at some point of your encounter. This person is versatile outside and inside of the bedroom, he can switch from dom to sub at the snap of your fingers. He could wear a gag and be tied up to the headboard while you’re having a feast on his hot body. He would want you to be vocal too, and I’m not talking about moaning loudly or swearing (he might like that, though). He would appreciate if you say you are feeling good, comfortable or not. He is very romantic in bed and he would expect reciprocity, like you opening up to him and trusting him. Sex with him would be passionate and healing.

I'm glad you've made it so far! I hope this reading was to your liking and I would love to read your thoughts if want to share them on the replies.

I can give you a "10 messages of your soul mate" reading for a reasonable price, so feel free to contact me for more info.

I do accept tips or donations through this link.

#pick a pile #pick a card #free tarot #tarot readings #intuitive readings #free readings #psychic readings #love readings #tarot community #Spotify

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stuff-and-such-art · 1 year

Photo

Little doodles for the FIC PHOENIX WROTE FOR ME DID YOU SEE IT??? mind the tags!! @phoenixphire24 nailed it, exactly what i was hoping for and more

Some of these doodles are finished, some are not I got a little tired, but all of them are color which is rare for me! I loved the idea of Oscar walking all the way up to Zolf and Hamid carrying everything and them not noticing. Also oscar looking handsome in the snow and cold and just in general being happy and content in freezing weather and hamid being PISSED about it made me so happy.

ID:

[ID Begins: 4 digital drawings with dull but bright colors, simple shading, and thick black outlines.

The first image shows Hamid and Zolf on a bench kissing. Hamid is an Egyptian halfling with dark skin, dark curly hair, and pointed ears. He is wearing a green coat, a turquoise vest, gray pants and boots and a yellow scarf. He is leaning up into Zolf and gently holding the side of his face. He looks to be content, and has a little tear in the corner of his eye. Zolf is a white dwarf with white hair, a long beard, and metal prosthetic legs. He is wearing a blue coat, a gray sweater, and brown pants. He is leaning down towards Hamid and holding his arm to pull hamid closer.

The second image shows Oscar observing the scene from the first image. He is a tall white human with shoulder length white hair and is holding three mugs and too many bags in his arms. He is wearing a red coat and a beige sweater. He is smiling and blushing a bit as he watches the scene, but he looks slightly concerned. He has a thought bubble next to his head that reads, “Cute, but HELP ME.” Presumably, he wants help with all the stuff he is carrying.

The third image shows Oscar looking off camera in a very posed manner. He has a hand that is touching the scarf wrapped around his neck and his other hand is pulling his jacket closed. He is looking away and his hair, scarf, and open coat blow dramatically in the wind. There are sparkles around him.

The fourth image shows Hamid looking at the previous image of Oscar. He looks grumpy and is holding himself to fight the cold. He is blushing while looking at Oscar, even while being angry at him. End ID.]

#rqg #rqg fanart #rusty quill gaming #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #zolf smith #oscar wilde rqg #zoscamid #zoscar #oscamid #zamid #stuff's art

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unknownjpegs · 23 days

Text

cute

He finds the wounded soldier in the thin alley of a downtown city turned war zone. There is the steady firework like sound of guns in the distance, his fingers swiftly turning down the crackling comm at his shoulder—mingled with the unstoppable and terrifying atmosphere of radianites somewhere, fighting. Smoke makes the otherwise bright mid afternoon sun a dull, lifeless corpse in the sky. No clouds. Just the smear of two universes colliding for one resource that is worth the scattered destruction.

Xavier stands at the mouth of the alleyway as the soldiers stares at him. His hand is sealed over a wound at his hip. There isn’t enough blood that it’s lethal—maybe. Unless he can’t get up, find cover, or be rescued by whatever team he might have left when Xavier’s unit is done. He’s not injured, but the evidence of fighting is still there. Dusty rubble on his all black gear. There’s a rip over the side of his black balaclava, red hair poking out like an outburst of fire. His arms are sore, but the sledgehammer is tied neatly to his back again.

Jesus, he thinks. I want to go home.

“Fuck you,” the solider barks, surprisingly sturdy with it. He’s aiming an empty handgun at Xavier. He only knows it’s empty because he’s been staring at this soldier for a long minute, watching as he fumbles out an empty medic bag, as he checks the slide on his handgun, as he slaps the heel of his palm to his forehead and swears under his breath. His accent is muddied and rough. For a while, Xavier’s been trying to place it—he’s pretty good at that. He likes geography.

Glass from a broken window crunches underneath his heavy boots as he walks down the alley. There is a distant sssss like a smoke grenade has been released. The sky lights up briefly green, but the smoke is downwind. Avoids them. The soldier twists a bit, raises the gun more—he’d have an accurate shot. He’d get Xavier right in the head—he has to respect that. Not useless then, just abandoned. Bloody in an alley. Medic used all his medic supplies on others.

Xavier stops only a few footsteps away, his own rifle in his hands. Not aimed yet.

“Well? Fuckin’ do it then—coward. Dickhead,” the wounded one snaps and throws the gun. It hits Xavier in the shoulder, clattering against the ground. In the hazy smoked out sunlight, the enemy looks washed out and exhausted. Sweat makes black curly hair cling to dark brown skin. There are deep bruises underneath big, pretty eyes. The cement beneath him is dark red, smudged, with the way he’d sunk down. He doesn’t look small, even though Xavier is standing at his full height and the enemy is sitting. Injured.

“Need help figurin’ it out, arsehole? The little trigger there, you just aim up that stupid fuckin’ rifle—”

“Do you ever shut up?” Xavier asks, his gloved hand tearing off his balaclava. His sweaty, messy hair sticks up in all directions. His skin is wet with the perspiration, so he wipes a palm across his face. He’s smiling too, that big, nasty wolf like grin that has earned him so much of a reputation. It’s too wide on his long face, shows too much of his teeth.

“Your mum,” the downed soldier snips coldly. His eyes narrow suspiciously, his hand briefly unsealing from his hip wound. He turns pale at that—which makes Xavier wonder what his skin might look like flush and full of life and blood and energy. The hand presses down again.

“Mum,” Xavier imitates as he rips the pack from his side. He approaches and kneels swiftly. There’s a distinct shhhhhk sound and he feels the cold press of a blade to his exposed throat. For a brief moment, the survival instinct pressing inside his skull from some ancient, never lost caveman era has him thinking of violence. Slamming the man forward, wrenching the knife, breaking a wrist.

Instead, he continues to unzip his pack. The knife doesn’t move. His eyes glance up briefly and his smile curls wider. The soldier is staring at him, pupils dilated so wide he looks drugged. Xavier tilts his head to the side somewhat, clicks his tongue.

“You know,” he pulls materials out the bag. “I’m shitty at this.”

“Yeah? You look it, mate. Why are you—”

Xavier wraps a hand around the others wrist, slowly pulls it away from the injury to his hip. He can’t see too well with the gear, plastered to the skin, glued by the tacky, drying blood. He scoots closer and feels the knife slowly slide away. He doesn’t pay it any attention as he gently (he hasn’t been gentle in a long time) peels up the under shirt to reveal a deep and unfortunate knife wound.

“Oh,” he says. “Wow. That fucking sucks.”

“It’s missed the important bits.”

“You don’t say,” Xavier says with a lurid, sarcastic drag of his eyes south of the wound. He wiggles his brows a bit—and is stunned when the soldier laughs. It’s a bitten off sound accompanied by a groan, a hand moving back to the wound. Xavier gets closer still. The smell of sweat and blood and gunpowder is overwhelming, when he should be all too used to it. The distant fighting seems to die away at the sound of the man breathing. He uses his teeth to rip into an alcohol pad and start cleaning at the wound.

Silence falls for a moment. Silence except their breathing. Then—

“Xavier,” he says, tearing open the fancy skin-like pad that covers wounds, keeps them clean. Promotes healing; this level of advancement has always unnerved Xavier. He slowly uses his palm to cup and squeeze it over the soldiers hip. His hand stays there for a moment. Maybe longer than a moment. If he didn’t have his glove on, they’d be skin to skin like that.

“Benji.”

“Really?” Xavier smiles again, brows turned upward.

“What?” His hands are suddenly shoved away, the enemy soldier trying to adjust himself against the wall. His cheeks have more color to them then, a little pinch of a dark red, splotchy and high on his cheekbones. His dark brows tuck together and the menacing sit of his lips is a sneer—but he’s pretty. He’s very pretty, even when he’s staring at Xavier like that. He has eyelashes too long and full. A dark curl sticks to his cheek.

“Just—it’s a cute name. I guess. Wasn’t expecting it.”

He stands then. Xavier is willowy tall, all legs. He puts a hand to the wall, leaning his weight there a bit. He casts a shadow down on the soldier, the sun behind him. He stares down as Benji stares up.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Benji,” he says, with a cocky wink.

“We probably shouldn’t,” the soldier replies.

“No, I got a feeling, you know?” Xavier walks backward as he talks, unslings his rifle from his shoulder. He checks it, inspects the chamber, glances out the end of the alley. More green has appeared in the sky, smearing the view. “Plus, I’m recognizable now. No one forgets a ginger.” He points to the mess of red, sweat damp hair.

“Red heads aren’t my type, mate.”

“Man, bullshit. Red heads are everyones type.”

The crash sound of something big and heavy has Xavier retreating without another word. All fun depleted as he sets himself to running toward the rest of the fighting, at a savage and hard pace. His hand, shaky and awkward turning his comms back on.

That was the last of his supplies.

#writing #hj #valorant au #bp #xw #this one..........#bp x xw

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gorlygorlx3 · 5 months

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FNAF SB Human Au! x F!Reader who is Bi

General Headcanons:

Let's start by saying that everyone is not an actual human being. This is more Detroit: Become Human-esque. (Extremely life-like and sentient)

Glamrocks still have some animal features (Freddy's ears, Monty's Tail, Roxanne's ears and tail). They're still children's entertainment so it makes sense. Speaking of children's entertainment, THESE GUYS DON'T HAVE GENTALIA, PLEASE DON'T ASK ABOUT FUCKING THESE GUYS!

Descriptions:

Freddy: 7ft; Curly mid-length brown hair (a little longer than the shoulders), olive skin (i guess), a little bit of beard hair (just a little), nice blue eyes.

Chica: 5'9ft *smallest one*, white hair in...not a bob but it looks like one (her hair is straight and up to her shoulders that's why), she also has that alfalfa bit tied with the scrunchie, lilac eyes and light skin.

Monty: 7ft, red hair in a mullet, orange eyes, darker skin tone, keeps his glasses sometimes, sharp teeth, little scruff

Roxanne: 6ft, gray, wavy hair with the green streak, yellow eyes, not a dark skin tone but not too light, a good mix if you will, keeps the makeup she wears peforming and not peforming.

Sun: 8ft, Curly, short blonde hair, like the messy but cute kind, bright blue eyes, like a clear skies blue (so pretty), Vitillgo covering the respected half of face, ADORABLE TOOTH GAP (insert Michael Strahan tooth gap), clean shaven

Moon: 8ft, longer hair (about mid back), left half navy blue, right half white, currently white eyes with red iris, when he gets angry, its black with red silts, Vitillgo covering the respected half of face, just really pale on the lighter half, sharp teeth, clean shaven

*BONUS*:

DJMM: 12ft, dark skin, six muscular arms with glow-in-the-dark wristbands on each, brown dreads with headphones, black shades (and the shades don't come off!), some beard.

Bonnie: 7ft, light skin, disgustin-i mean weird bangs comeing out of top, auburn eyes, overbite and buck teeth, clean shaven

Foxy: 7ft, tan? skin, longest hair of the bunch, this nice shade of light red, yellow-orange eye, some scruff on the chin.

Everyone has the same clothes while working but we'll get to the casual clothes later. Ethnicitiy!

Freddy: Hispanic, Mixed

Chica: White, Japanese

Monty: Black (prolly Nigerian), Hispanic

Roxanne: Black (prolly Haitien or just American)

Sun: White (just vitiligo goes hard)

Moon: White (just vitiligo goes hard)

*Bonus*

DJMM: Black, Jamaican, Japanese

Bonnie: White

Foxy: Black-Cuban (or Mexican)

Background: You worked as a mechanic for the Pizzaplex. You've worked with all the animatronics before and everyone likes you. (some even developed some feelings) It wasn't until they confessed how much they wanted to explore the outside world, not to mention the amount of incidents that occurs in the plex and bad reps the animatronics get. So you decided to sneak everyone out of the plex at night and stuff them into your house. Now you live with them while trying not to get caught by the cops and Fazbear Entertainment. (Remember, this is all before Security Breach, meaning Gregory wasn't here for any of this, however the Vanny Virus is in Moon so yeah...)

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf headcanons #security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach #security breach headcanons #five nights at freddys

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phanfictioncatalogue · 10 months

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Fics Named After Colors (2) Masterlist

part one

Black Blood - howellester8791

Summary: Dan is a vampire hunter, one of the best in the entire London, and he has to solve the mistery of the “Blue-eyed vampire of Haze”. But when he meets the vampire, something in Dan changes and he’ll find out that the enemy is not this pale, dorky, black haired and blue-eyed vampire named Phil.

Blue (ao3) - melancholymango

Summary: au where everything is black and white until you kiss your soulmate.

Blue And Green Sheets - scifiphan

Summary: Phil’s in the shower but Dan’s horny.

Blue Cars - lesteresce

Summary: Dan isn’t special. He’s not. And he’s ok with that, he thinks.

Blush - jilliancares

Summary: Phil tries to make Dan blush.

Brown And Blue - fakecouple

Summary: Dan’s wings prove to be sensitive.

Brown Eyes - rosewoodpirate

Summary: Phil is drunk at a party and spots a certain brown-eyed boy across the room.

Burning Blue - waveydnp

Summary: prompt: An amaaf timestamp of them in Portugal

Curly Brown Hair, Cute Little Dimples, And Sparkling Blue Eyes - hiddenphangirl

Summary: Phil loves to do dumb things when he’s drunk, but maybe somewhere in there he’s got the right idea.

Golden Glow - theshyauthor

Summary: Dan is a musician without a heart and Phil the idiot that returns to his hotel room whenever he calls.

Gold Hoops And Silver Linings (ao3) - PoisonedMind

Summary: Look. He noticed the comments. He read them. He just wasn’t going to give the fans what they wanted this time. p>Or the 100% unfactual truth behind why Dan Howell doesn't wear those goddamn gold hoops (in public).

Green Tea And Cherry Blossoms (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: Japan is lovely in the spring...

There's no sense of time here. No urgency, no rush. Nothing but peace and serenity as they sit together under the blooms and look out into the gardens.

Of Clear Blue Eyes and Broken Dragon Rides - manchestereyes

Summary: What happens when a roller coaster breaks down in the middle of Harry Potter World? It sparks the unlikely meetup of an operator with striking blue eyes and a terrified teenage boy who just wants to make his way off without dying. But what happens once they reach the ground?

Rainbow Graffiti - secretlywritingstories

Summary: Detective Phil Lester’s first case as lead detective is nothing like he had imagined. This criminal’s targets are all rich and powerful and the thief always only takes one possession from their homes and leaves behind messages to them in bright and expressive rainbow-coloured graffiti. Phil quickly discovers that while this person might be a criminal, every crime is done with good intentions. It’ll take him some time to wrap his head around that one.

running you with red (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: dan and phil are a&e nurses

Yellow - ohsophan

Summary: Phil goes on holiday leaving Dan home alone, he begins to miss Phil so decides to wear his Jake hoody.

yellow acacias - rncloughlin

Summary: The five times Dan gave Phil acacias, and the one time he didn’t have to.

Yellow Curtains (ao3) - omgdatphantho

Summary: Dan feels like an outsider looking in; an alien in his own skin. He’s starting to question his sexuality and that’s made more complicated by meeting Phil. Nothing worth having comes easy; especially love.

Yellow Love - botanistlester

Summary: The deal is to make bamf!Dan Howell want to date Nerd!Phil. But how can he go through with it when Dan’s eyes are the colour of chocolate and he has a dimple that makes Phil’s knees weak? He decides he can’t go through with it because he’s too afraid of falling in love before Dan ever will.

Yellow Roses (ao3) - FoxyAtlas

Summary: Dan has a wife who just loves the bouquets of flowers he keeps getting for her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know about the attractive florist who sends hidden messages with each bouquet that her husband might just be falling for.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #colors #colors masterlist

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vintage-brass-tc · 1 year

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July TC Challenge Days 1-7

Made by the lovely @baeby-tc !!!

It’s the summer and I know we’re all thinking about how our TCs are holding up, and even some are starting to adjust to being without them like I am ….. so I took it upon myself to crawl back into the deep pit of my infatuation with them to fill out this form 😭 ‘tis the season!

1. describe your tc’s physical appearance.

M is simply bald, has dark brown stubble, big dark brown eyes, and black glasses, as well as a smaller figure and a “dad bod”.

U, obviously, is younger, so he has sort of a sharp jawline, stubble, wide and bright, piercing blue eyes, slightly curly brown hair, and a more toned figure as he works out a TON, but no abs!!! I find this super endearing, because I love pudge ^^

2. what was the first thing you’ve ever said to your tc?

Probably “Hi” 💔, but I remember being really intimidated by M and thinking U would be a fun guy to hang out with, and was relieved that I probably wouldn’t fall for him. Boy was I wrong.

3. is your tc single or taken? or are you unsure? and are you single or taken?

M is married and has kids, while U, however, can never really keep a girlfriend (but he can keep me….. /hj). 😭 I almost never know if he’s single or not, since he is quite attractive and has had a lot of people flirt with him.

4. is your tc more of the athletic type, the nerdy type or the artsy type?

M is more of a total nerd, maybe a bit artsy too? He works out (and have made this super obvious to me) but he doesn’t talk about it as much as U, a more athletic type, does.

5. if you and your tc were in high school together, do you think you’d be friends?

M was cute in the high school photo he showed me, but the kind of personality he described to me that he had would probably clash with my own, as I’m one to listen to directions and he’d constantly talk in between reps and get called out on for doing so. Maybe it’d be an opposites-attract sort of deal, but I have a feeling he’d want to settle for someone prettier. I’m not ugly or anything but he seems like the kind of high school guy that has unrealistically high standards….

U probably wouldn’t talk to me??? But he was quite popular with the ladies, based on pictures I’ve seen. I don’t know how he really was in grade school so I cannot answer this, but I have seen him in a couple of old marching videos, and he looked to be … really weird and quirky 😭 I might have had a crush on him, if only by appearance alone. Maybe. Again, I don’t know enough about how he was back then to answer.

6. name one song that reminds you of your tc and explain why that song reminds you of them.

“Industry Baby” reminds me of U because it was the first stand tune he composed for us all, and because he played it so much, I just associated the song with him. The vibes check out as well!

“The Humpty Dance” reminds me of M because he told me in a sectional that he sang it in karaoke once. Absolutely traumatized after listening to it and imagining him singing it behind the mic…but the story checks out.

7. is your tc fashionable or are they more of the simple type? what is one outfit you’d love to see them wear?

M dresses fairly well! He always tries to match his shoes with his outfits and his pants and hats and whatever, and he looks quite nice (most of the time). My favorite outfit of his is his little dark green vest and white undershirt, or ANY SHIRT THAT IS OVERSIZED (I saw it on him ONCE and it was SO ADORABLE).

U dresses pretty well too when he feels like it!!! A lot of the time, though, you’ll either see him in a branded band/school T-shirt, a hoodie, or a tank top, and shorts or sweats, and a random pair of multicolored shoes that don’t really match, but I guess he has pretty privilege because he always looks good, even when he’s all groggy and tired. EVERY TIME HE WEARS SUITS (this goes for M too) I AM BLOWN AWAY…SO THAT’S MY FAVORITE KIND OF OUTFIT ON HIM.

#M #U #teacher crush #teacher crush community #tc community #tc #tcc #tc challenge #tc thoughts #tc feelings #tc ramblings #teacher attachment

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fallenangellinwonderland · 1 year

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A difficult task part 3

-Sherlock, Sherlock! It's fine! We'll figure it out. - John rests his hand on Sherlock's shoulder - I will help you, Mrs. Hudson and Molly can help us too, even Mary!- he tries his best to calm down his friend. Anthea is at the door holding a little boy's hand. Even if they had not done a DNA test, there was no doubt it was Sherlock's, the book was pretty much a copy of the famous detective. Head full of dark wavy hair, it isn't curly, his round eyes a bright innocent blue, his little button nose like Irene's and he has her ears, while his lips are Sherlock's very pinkish. He is wearing a green jumper and blue jeans and brown tennis shoes. He looks neat. Sherlock looks at the little boy with an astonish expression on his face, he does look like him. -hi- his little voice say. -William this is Sherlock Holmes, your father- Mycroft pushes the boy carefully to Sherlock. They stare at each other for a second. Sherlock looks back at Mycroft again with pleading eyes. -If you have any question you can call me, I'll try my best to help you. Mommy will be delighted with the news.- Mycroft nods at them and gives a short wave to William before walking out. -Hi, Will, my name is John. Are you hungry?- John kneels down to be his height. The boy shakes his head no before looking back at Sherlock. -okay, then why don't we open your suitcase, let's see what is inside. Sherlock sits down again still in shock. His head is a mess, a million thoughts crossing his mind. John unzips the blue suitcase revealing the clothes and some story books and a stuffed pirate parrot. It was probably 30cm, bright green, a wooden left, black eye patch and a black pirate hat with a skull in the middle. William grabbed it holding it tight against his chest. Sherlock covers his face before rubbing it. John ignores him and smiles at Will. -What's his name?- he asks petting the parrot. -Bones.- will replies handing the parrot to John. Sherlock takes his hands off his face and looks at will arching his right eyebrow -Bones?... That's creative...did you chose the name yourself?- The little boy nods smiling shyly -Parrots have 25 bones. Birds came from theropods- -Do you like dinosaurs?- Sherlock is now more interested in getting to know him. It was a long evening, Sherlock didn't feel comfortable enough to be near Will. Will didn't feel comfortable enough in such a messy place with things that could break easily but he was bored. John didn't know what to do, didn't know how to help them. Okay that's all my brain could develop. I thought, wouldn't it be cute that Sherlock runs a bubble bath to him and taking him to the zoo, or the park or show him some simple experiments, dressing him in style like him. Sherlock having to deal with Will being extrovert or maybe he is introvert but Sherlock doesn't want him to be like him, because he doesn't want Will to be bullied. Imagine Will taking every kitten he finds in the street and Sherlock trying his best to not scold him but getting a bit annoyed because he has to take them out. And when he takes him to kindergarten (nursery in London) he meets the reader, (here i go again) she could be Will's teacher. She helps Sherlock so he can help Will with his homework, and maybe she teaches him some parenting tips.

#johnlock moment #sherlock holmes #mycroft holmes #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock holmes #sherlock homes #sherlock bbc #dr john watson #john watson #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x you

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1025cherrystreet · 3 years

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funeral

y/n attends a funeral and feels hopeless after losing her best friend until she meets her late bsf's cousin Harry.

a/n: this is for @harrystylescherry Playlist Fic Challenge!!! this is inspired by the song Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers. i used the name Phoebe in the story but i wasn't picturing Phoebe Bridgers when I was writing that character, i just liked the name and decided to go with it! but, y'all can picture her however y'all like lol. i went from loving this story to hating it, but i hope y'all like it! any feedback is appreciated!! <3

**despite it being surrounded by depressing matters, it's actually a cute and fluffy story lol! just wanted to point that out because i, myself, kinda avoid reading sad stories

warnings: a LOT of talk about death and dying and funerals, mentions depression/depressive episode?, mentions drugs and alcohol, swearing. i'm ceo of rushing the ending, soz <3 (also, gave up on proofreading lmao)

word count: 8k+ (this is the longest piece i've ever written lol)

Y/N has this dream. Where she's screaming underwater while her friends are waving at her from the shore. She's desperately calling for them, hoping and waiting for them to help, but, seemingly, her friends can't hear... and can't help. Submerged beneath the thrashing waters, her wails fall silent; her familiars deaf to her pleads. The more she struggles to get to the surface for air, the deeper she sinks. Her friends just waving at her as she drifts to the bottom. Every time she jolts awake from these dreams in a sweat stained bed and sticky clothes, she decides to brush it off. Not wanting to think about the problems she needs to face or what she needs to work on. Always concluding that she doesn't need anyone to tell her what it means or overanalyze her life through misplaced visions. Deciding to not believe assumptions made from vague, painful pictures.

As the familiar sinking feeling in her chest starts yet again, Y/N snaps her eyes up at the casket as the sound of her best friend's mother releasing a heart wrenching sob catches her focus.

The contrast of the white roses that lay on top of Phoebe's mahogany stained casket almost glow in the evening light, seeming like a mock to such a somber evening. The way the living looks so effervescent and bright, casting shadows on the less fortunate. The dead never celebrated in such light but rather mourned in dim grief and sadness.

Y/N doesn't like funerals, and not just because her best friend of 10 years is the recipient of this one. She's never cared for them. Believing they're just an excuse to get over the one they are to be honoring, they carry a stigma that everyone in attendance has to cry or you're seen as heartless, while the people who were never close to the deceased are presumed fake for showing emotion. Y/N thinks they're a big joke... with a cruel, cruel punchline.

The sound of despondent music playing and cries ring throughout the cemetery as Phoebe's casket is lowered six feet into the ground. The unchecked emotions start to boil inside of Y/N. Anger boiling deep inside of her quickly reaching its point, anger that stems from betrayal, that stems from hurt, that stems from...loss. She quietly scoffs, shaking her head with a stone cold look, before quickly getting up and walking away from the ceremony as her late friend's uncle, Bill, wraps up his poor excuse of a eulogy.

Phoebe wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted people to cry over her casket, stuck laying in a padded box while people who don't even know the real her, speak of her existence like they were the best of friends. They weren't. She was. Y/N was her best friend. These people don't... didn't know her like Y/N does. It's all bullshit.

In Y/N's quick pace away from the tent around the damp open ground, she spots a bigger gravestone with a stone bench built into it and takes a seat.

She inhales deeply, taking a moment to herself to look up at the sky. The clouds that overcast part of the blue sky drifting farther away from the graveyard as the sun starts making its way to set. She breathes in, the delightful scent of honeysuckle and dewy grass filling her nose before it's tainted by fumes of petrol from the road just on the other side of the cemetery gates behind her. It's so unfair; why of all people did Phoebe have to-

"It's all a joke," A deep accent says to her left.

She almost jumps out of her seat when she turns to the man who took the empty spot next to her. Jesus Christ, where the fuck did he come from? she thinks to herself. He had brown curly hair and green eyes (well, thinking green from what she can gather staring at the side of his face), wearing a black suit with a black button up shirt underneath. Rings clad his fingers and the sunset gleam shines off his cross necklace. She stares wide-eyed at him for a few moments before shaking her head to get out of her daze.

"Huh?" She says when she realizes he had spoken before.

"It's all a big joke," He repeats himself, the British accent more noticeable this time around. His head faced towards the funeral, having not spared a glance at her once this whole time.

She settles back into her seat, shifting her gaze to match his with the group of mourning people in the distance.

"Yeah." Y/N sighs in agreement.

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Y/N decides to speak. Thinking to herself that if anyone would listen to her thoughts, a man who's also ditching the shitty eulogy would be her best bet.

"They all talk about her as if she was God." She chuckles humorlessly.

He scoffs with a small smirk, "Far from it."

Another wave of silence crashes over them, before Y/N breaks it once again.

"She would've hated this," She whispers, "People she barely even knows crying over her like they had any significance in her life. She probably only talked to five people here. She didn't even like her uncle." She laughs, referencing the man who gave the half-assed eulogy about how Phoebe being such an innocent, bright young girl.

"They're grieving her loss instead of celebrating her life, it's all fucked," He clears his throat before continuing, "Funerals are for the living."

"I hate funerals..." She says in reply.

Glancing at the boy beside her when she hears him digging through his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask. He takes a sip, and another, before gesturing it to her. Not overthinking it too much, she takes the cool metal bottle and takes a big gulp. Tasting the burn of vodka in her throat and mint from what she supposes is the mysterious strangers mouth.

Handing the flask back she says, "She would've wanted a party. Something where everyone was having fun in her honor, not some substandard funeral full of random people and careless words."

This time he's the one who chuckles humorlessly, "Yeah, she would've wanted everyone t'take shots and dress up in fancy clothes n' wreak havoc on this fucking town,"

Y/N smiles at this because Phoebe really would. Phoebe was the type of person who everyone wanted to be friends with, but also who everyone was scared of. She was mysterious and intimidating (a bit like the man next to her, Y/N thinks). Phoebe was a master at persuasion and could get almost anyone to go on crazy fucking adventures with her. One of Y/N's favorite memories with Phoebe was when they dressed up in wedding dresses they had gotten from a second-hand store and walked down the street yelling random things at strangers, taking turns drinking tequila from a metal water bottle.

"She really was something else, huh?" Y/N says a bit somberly, reminiscing on her late best friend.

"Definitely, a know-it-all," He laughs, bringing the flask up to his mouth.

"Oh, of course, she always thought she was right." She smirks.

"I mean, most of the time she was." He shrugs.

"Yeah, how did she always know everything?" The two of you laugh, taking turns drinking from the flask.

He shakes his head in disbelief, silence settling over the pair again.

"How did you know her?" He asks, still staring at the gathering of people in the distance.

"...She was my best friend," Y/N responds quietly, still staring out at the sunset.

He hums in return, "You?" She asks as she hands the flask over.

"Her cousin." His rough voice speaks out.

"You're Harry?" She says, less as a question and more in disbelief. Phoebe always mentioned her cousin Harry from England, always telling Y/N of stories they had together getting into reckless shit.

She turns her head to look at him just as he does, "And you're Y/N."

He offers a soft, knowing smile, both having heard countless stories of one another from Phoebe. He leans back and extends his arm on the top of the bench behind her, feeling the warmth of his body radiate off of him.

"I wonder what she'd say to me now. Sitting on a random gravestone in our hometown, drinking out of her cousin's flask, ditching what's supposed to be her remembrance." Y/N says, leaning back on the bench too.

"She would've said, 'quit y'crying, it's a sign of the times' and then would drag your arse t'the nearest pub." He laughs.

She joins in on the soft laughter, shaking her head because she knows that's exactly what she would've said. Phoebe was such a joy to be around, her presence unmatched.

"You know, she always talked about wanting to leave a legacy behind. Most of the time, I just laughed at her, thinking it was just another bizarre thing to come out of her mouth. But, she was always saying she wanted to be remembered as some enigma when she dies..." Y/N recalls the many memories of her and Phoebe staying up til 4am talking. Chills suddenly covering her body, not only from the cool Winter air but because of how Phoebe had talked about her death and now she's actually...dead.

She turns her head to look at Harry and he has a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I think she's accomplished that quite well, hasn't she?" He replies.

"How?" She questions softly with furrowed brows.

"Well, f'starters, her funeral is full of people who never even knew her, or frankly even cared about her, while two emotionless people just got up and stormed away from it t'drink vodka out of a flask on some random person's gravestone." He laughs before tacking on, "Trust me, the people over there are wondering who the hell she was and who she knew, right about now."

She turns her head from the (quite pretty, she thinks) boy to her left, looking at the wake, only to be met with a few people staring back at them.

"Well, I'll be damned," She scoffs. "Of course, the bitch did it." A smile bright on her face, probably the only real grin she's pulled since Phoebe's passing. Her best friends wishes coming true makes her heart warm just a tad, a relief to how cold losing her best friend made it.

"Always able t'make her life seem like an episode of Pretty Little Liars." He says shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

This comment makes Y/N laugh quite loudly, drawing a few — what she could only think were glares — back at her. Wiping a stray tear from her face that fell due to her laughing. The sweet sound coming from her lips only tacking on Harry to join her.

"Oh my god, she practically lived in an indie movie, always the role of the mysterious main character!" She chuckled out, creases forming at the corners of her eyes that Harry has taken a liking to.

As both of their laughter slowly dies out, another silence comes over them; only this time it's almost deafening. It's like the weight of the matter finally settled in.

Harry lets out a deep sigh, staring out at the never ending field of stone. Flowers accompany very few of the many graves; some wilted, some looking fresh, some long gone by now. Name placards littering the ground, all of these lost and forgotten people just decomposing underneath them. People coming and going to visit, only to be forgotten as time goes by, memories fading from their loved ones' mind. He wonders if he could ever forget Phoebe. No, I could never, he thinks to himself. He could never forget the only person that ever truly believed in him and embraced him for being himself.

Deciding he doesn't want to give anymore thought to the painful insight that one day he might forget Phoebe, he asks Y/N something instead.

"Y'wanna get out of here? M'starvin'."

The quiet girl next to him looks his way, his green eyes meeting her's that shine in the last few minutes of orange sunlight. Her eyes are so pretty, he tries to mentally shake that thought out of his head. He can't be hitting on his late cousin's best friend at her funeral, for fuck's sake.

Y/N only nods in response, gathering her bag and phone before standing from the bench. Harry towers over her when he gets up and the observation of how tall her his makes Y/N feel all giddy inside for some reason. Placing the flask back in his suit jacket pocket, he leads the way to a small restaurant nearby. She walks beside him the whole way there, the two of them just quietly observing everything around them.

***

The crisp, cool air passes through, goosebumps creeping up their arms as they sit in the outside seating of a small restaurant. Comfortable silence wraps them up and spits them out as their minds explore all the vast depths of their troubled minds, giving them time for their treacherous thoughts to eat at their sanity bit by bit.

"Phoebe told me once," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the scratchy feeling from not using it. Harry's green eyes moved to her from his observance of the lonely street they're next to as she spoke softly. "She told me the only time she truly felt alive was when she made decisions that were reckless and spontaneous. She said living her life precariously was the only reason for her happiness, claiming that the perfect life is just an illusion. That dreaming of labor should not be the goal, but instead becoming your authentic self and living with no regrets..."

Harry stays quiet, reflection in his eyes as he stares at her from across the table, chewing the food in his mouth. Y/N plays around with the food on her plate with her fork and waits for his acknowledgment (although, she doesn't even know if he would say or do anything -- she doesn't know why she decided to tell him that)

"I mean, she's right, righ'? I never understood when people would ask what your 'dream job' is from a young age. No one's dream is t'work everyday 'til they die. They have to, t'make a living and survive, but what's the point in living if you aren't enjoyin' it. But, if y'workin' all the time, how do you make the time to really live?" He says, furrowing his brows as he talks.

Y/N takes in his words. The moonlight and street lamps casting a soft glow on his face, his carved features looking even more beautiful at night.

"Yeah... I guess, I guess I just envy how she viewed life, ya know?" She states, looking at the cars drive by as she tries to explain how she feels. "Always saying things to make you rethink your existence and purpose..." She looks back at Harry and whispers, "...She talked about life so much like she knew she was going to die."

"Well, we're all gonna die eventually." Harry rests his arms on the table with a quiet sigh, his features passive, but his mind is thinking of how he just wants to hug her and tell her everything is going to be alright.

"Yeah, but she just...she talked about it like she knew all the answers. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it. Sometimes, I feel like she was telling everyone around her how to live in complete happiness because she knew she didn't have much of her own, despite convincing everyone she was carefree and unbothered." Y/N shrugs and watches as they fall into a short silence.

"...I miss her." Harry breathes out after a moment, reaching his hand across the table to hold hers. Her skin is soft against his as he rubs his thumb against her hand in an attempt to comfort both of them.

Her eyes soaking in his softened expression, her cherry tinted lips whispering, "Me too."

They eat the rest of their dinner in silence, the only sounds reverberating from the road with the occasional car or pedestrian. Harry pays for the food, but not without many protests from Y/N.

As the two walk side by side down the street, back to the cemetery to pick up their cars, Y/N suddenly falls anxious. She doesn't want to be alone tonight, scared of being alone with her thoughts when she goes back to stay in her childhood home. Her parents, still living in the house they lived in since her youth, had to drive up to another town for a few nights to stay with her cousins because they planned to go there before the news broke about Phoebe. Leaving Y/N alone in the empty house since there wasn't room for her at her cousins.

The black cemetery gates coming into view, eeriness and gloom becoming more apparent when the sun is down, Y/N and Harry can see their two cars sitting idly on the side of the road. Y/N fidgets with her fingers as they grow close to departure.

"D-do you, maybe, wanna hang out for a little while longer?" She turns to face him, looking up at him nervously. "I just don't want to be alone right now." She rushes out when he doesn't respond.

"Yeah, I didn't really want t'go home alone right now either." He offers a sliver of a smile before unlocking his car, grabbing two brown paper bags that look to hold bottles, and gesturing his head, "C'mon, we'll pick up my car later. Let's go celebrate Pheebz, yeah?" He grins.

She smiles at him, unlocking her own car and waiting for him to get in, putting on a playlist full of Phoebe's favorite songs. She drives through her hometown, memories stirring up of her and her best friend smoking weed in the park the summer before graduation and jumping in the lake naked in the middle of winter. The two end up at her house sitting in her abandoned driveway, both unbuckling but neither making the move to get out of the parked car, the engine still running as they sit listening to the melodies playing from the speaker.

Harry suddenly pulls out two bottles from the brown paper bags at his feet, one of vodka and the other tequila.

"Pick y'poison." He says with a smirk.

She picks the vodka and Harry mutters, "Good choice, tequila is more m'speed."

"Weren't you drinking vodka at the funeral?" She laughs, unscrewing the cap.

"Yeah, figured I'd drink Phoebe's favorite since it was her party." He chuckles.

"To Phoebe." Y/N says, sorrow lacing her voice as she turns in her seat to face Harry.

"To living your life precariously." He says before the two of them take a big gulp of the sharp liquid, starting what will only be the beginning of a long night.

***

Light shines through the white curtains, the room glowing bright in the soft, yellow sunlight. The white comforter tangled up in bodies as birds chirp in the morning tranquility. Y/N's eyes flutter open, immediately feeling sweaty and clammy. The headache that sets in reminds her of the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. Waking up in her childhood bed after blacking out in the backseat of her car the night before doing very little for her sanity.

As she lays in bed, groggy, she needs to pee. She moves to get up and walk to the bathroom connected to her room, only to freeze when an arm wraps around her and pulls her closer. Warm breathes pant at the back of her neck, unintelligible murmurs coming from the person behind her. Her eyes widen, realizing Harry is the one she is snuggling with in the early morning (afternoon?) light. Despite needing to pee really badly, she finds herself only melting into his touch. She can't remember the last time someone held her like this, can't remember the last time she felt this content. In fact, she thinks the last time she cuddled with someone was with Phoebe when she slept over in her room at their apartment... Well, just Y/N's apartment now.

Y/N and Phoebe would have movie nights in Y/N's room and in the midst of the fun, they would grow tired. Phoebe would never want to leave the comfort of Y/N's warm bed, so she always asked, sleepover?, with a wide grin. To which Y/N never refused and the two would put on The Notebook and fall asleep spooning one another. The first time it happened, when they were children having sleepovers, she tensed a bit; thinking it weird for her friend to cuddle her because no one had ever done that. But, as the years went by and their friendship grew stronger, knowing that despite both of them being bisexual it wasn't an act of intimacy, but one of platonic comfort.

So, Y/N figured (in her touch deprived mind) that this was just an act of friendly, platonic intimacy...nothing else. After coming to that conclusion, she let herself relax into his touch, his warm embrace nodding her off to sleep once again.

What wakes her up the second time is the sound of a gravelly voice groaning. The arm around her waist squeezes tightly before the body it's attached to tenses up. Harry tries to take in the position they're in -- his arm snuggling her close to his bare chest and legs intertwined with hers -- but his hangover headache clouds his mind too much to think about it. Only registering that he's never felt this comfortable with someone before, never felt someone so warm and cozy. He's cuddled lots of girls (and guys), has spent many mornings waking up in someones hold or holding someone in his, but they've never been as addicting as her. Never being so relaxing, so soft. He's about to just say, fuck it, and fall back asleep as to spend as much time with her in his clutch, but Y/N had stirred awake from his groaning and she really has to pee!

She slowly turns in his arms, their legs shifting apart, and is met with probably the cutest sight she's ever seen. His eyes are glassy and the green of his irises shine in the soft light. His lips pink and his face holding a hesitant look, like he thinks she might yell at him for accidentally ending up in his arms throughout the night, but she can also sense the underlying feeling of content reading on his face. The way his eyes soften when they meet hers and the way his hand involuntarily squeezes at her side. The serene feeling almost tangible as her childhood room becomes their own little world. All the responsibilities and pain of the outside fall ceased at the door decorated with heights of a growing Y/N.

"G'morning," His gravelly voice going straight to her heart, melting it at the beautiful sound.

"Good morning," She says in a raspy whisper, her throat dry from the alcohol and singing at the top of her lungs the night before.

She takes the quiet moment to look at his body, her gaze drifting from tattoo to tattoo, not realizing how many he has. She knew he had some from the ones on his hands yesterday, but she didn't know he had so many. His long sleeve button up had covered the view of the ones adorning his arms, but she looks at them now in awe, thinking how pretty they are.

She's about to tell him how much she likes the butterfly tattoo on his chest, when her bladder has other plans.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to pee," She bashfully smiles as she looks at him.

"Oh, m'sorry. Probably should've told ya' I'm a cuddler." He gives a small smile with embarrassment soaking his words, thinking he's made her uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize," Her eyes light up at his out of character shyness, "I am too, I just really have to go to the bathroom." The harmonious sound of her giggles soothing every worry in Harry's body.

He playfully sighs, "Fine, I guess I'll let y'go piss."

A smirk pulls at his lips as she rolls her eyes and gets up, but he can see the corners of her lips turn up.

She goes to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands. She takes the time to brush her teeth and wash her face, cringing when she looks in the mirror. She feels gross that she looked like this when Harry woke up with the resemblance of an angel.

When she's finished, she walks out back into her room, excited to get back into the warm bed (and hopefully cuddle with Harry some more, but she would never admit that out loud), but she's met with abandoned sheets and panic consumes her. Did he leave? Did I make him uncomfortable by waking up in his arms? He was the one to cuddle me and he joked about it! But maybe he was just trying to be nice so he could escape? Her mind starts to race a mile a minute of anxious thoughts before they're all suddenly wiped away at the smell of coffee wafting in from the open doorway.

She throws on a sweatshirt and socks and makes her way down the stairs of the familiar, yet foreign after spending so long away from home, house. Her sock clad feet pad on the hardwood floors as she walks into the kitchen, spotting Harry silently staring at a spot on the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand (he's using the same pink and green mug with a little ceramic pig sitting on the top of the handle that Phoebe would use every time she'd sleepover in high school).

She walks in quietly, coming up behind him and grabbing a cup of coffee for herself, noticing the two pain killers next to the pot (which made her heart swell if she's honest). He had heard her coming down the stairs, but despite her presence his focus is still on the spot on the wall. Taking a sip of her pick-me-up and swallowing the pills, she takes up space next to Harry, following his eyes that stare intently at a picture frame hanging up and her eyes immediately soften.

"That was freshman year," Y/N spoke delicately, staring at the picture herself, "We had both been asked to prom by these senior guys. I was ecstatic because no one had ever shown any liking to me, but Phoebe had played it cool, of course." Harry lets out a quiet breathy laugh because of course Phoebe didn't care.

"We spent weeks planning out how prom night would be. Imagining how the senior parties would be like and if the boys would kiss us by the end of the night or not. She came over at 9am the morning of the dance and we spent all day getting ready and laughing with each other. She had even done my makeup all pretty and I helped her get into her dress. I remember I laughed when she decided she was going to wear converse under her dress, and she almost convinced me to do it too because she said 'you're not gonna be the one laughing when we're at all the after parties and your feet are killing you'." A genuine smile forms on Y/N's face as she reminisces on the cherished moment.

"But, two hours before the dance, our dates cancelled on us and told us they were going with these senior girls." Harry scoffs bitterly, understanding how cruel teenage boys are.

"I remember I was so upset because the one time I thought someone actually liked me or thought I was pretty enough to go to prom with, had just made me a second choice..." She recalls to Harry, who is now looking at the side of her face as she looks at the picture of Phoebe carrying Y/N on her back, piggy-back style, in long prom dresses, dirty white converse peaking out from under both girls' dresses.

"So, she grabbed me by the arms and looked me in the eyes and said 'Y/N L/N, we are deserving of the love we wish for. No senior boys are going to make us doubt that. We are not little freshmen girls who can be seen as cheap thrills and easy hookups. We are women, who demand respect and complete infatuation.' Then she took the tickets that the boys had pre-purchased for us, took my hand, and dragged me to that dance. We had been each other's date and made prom our bitch. She even got us into a party afterward...And we had one hell of a night."

She smiles fondly at the sweet memory. Harry's eyes flutter between the picture and the beautiful girl next to him. How could she ever think of herself as a second choice?, is all he can wonder to himself.

Letting his gaze fall to the picture one last time, he mumbles, "Well, those boys missed out on the best thing t'ever happen t'them."

He doesn't catch Y/N's blush that creeps up on her cheeks as he turns around, taking a sip from his little pig mug.

She shakes her head as to get out of the crushing haze she falls into, turning and walking to the countertop, leaning against it as Harry stands in front of her on the other side.

"Thank you. F'letting me stay the night, last night." He speaks up.

Y/N notices how he's still lacking a shirt, making her mouth dry up just a little at the sight of how fit he is. The tattoos stretching across his tan skin so perfectly, the black ink creating such a beautiful contrast on his body. He catches onto the not-so-subtle gawking and smirks.

"Uh, yeah. It's really no problem. There's no way I'd have let you drive home intoxicated and it was the least I could do after I made you practically spend the day with me." She blushes.

"Y'didn't make me," He shakes his head gently with a smile.

Y/N doesn't know to feel about how her cheeks heat up at his remark, shyly looking away as the teasing gleam in his eyes might make her combust.

"O-okay. Good to know." She squeaks out, the action only fueling Harry's ego and playful mood.

"I should go get m'car from the cemetery before it gets towed," He says almost disappointedly, like he doesn't want to leave yet. If she's being honest, she doesn't want him to leave yet either.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good. I'll give you a ride." She says, shaking off the saddened feeling of his departure.

"Oh, you don't have t'do tha'." He shakes his head but Y/N quickly shoots him down.

"Nonsense, I'll take you. It's no big deal."

He smiles at her objection, nodding, and going upstairs to grab the rest of his clothes, feeling uncomfortable in his dress pants from the funeral that he had put back on when he got up this morning, not wanting to make Y/N feel weird by staying in only his boxers.

***

Vodka Lover: hey... are you up?

She chews on the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit that Phoebe had always teased her about, as she sends the text to Harry (having exchanged numbers when she had dropped him off at his car at the cemetery). Phoebe had always said, 'You're not gonna have any thumb left to chew, babes, if you keep at it'. To which Y/N just rolled her eyes, but in the deafening silence of 4am, she wishes she cherished those moments with her best friend more. Wishing she didn't take for granted in those little encounters of Phoebe's care and concern with her well-being. Y/N would give anything to be able to spend one more minute with her.

Butterfly Boy: yeah, everything okay?

Vodka Lover: um, can i call you?

Suddenly, breaking the bitter quiet with a ringtone, her phone she holds in her palm lights up with Harry's contact. A tear falls from her face onto the screen and she has to wipe it away before she presses accept.

"Y/N?" Harry's deep voice rings out, laced in worry, from the other line.

She chokes out a sob, not being able to hold it back anymore. The floodgate of her emotions she has been trying to keep at bay suddenly burst. Salty tears fall onto the blue fluffy blanket from her senior year she's wrapped up in.

"Hey, hey, s'everythin' okay? What's wrong?" Harry says, more alert now that he hears her in such a fragile and frantic state.

Y/N just cries harder, desperately trying to catch her breath, she feels like she's suffocating.

"Hey, love, just breathe. Just breathe, Y/N." He tries to coax her down in a soothing voice.

A raggedy breath is heard on Harry's side, making the worry dissipate just a little now that he knows she's breathing. Harry sits up in his bed, calling out to Y/N, repeatedly telling her to just keep breathing. He can't get to what's wrong if she hyperventilates.

He was laying restless in his bed when she had texted, lost in thoughts of life and replaying memories with his cousin. Trying to grasp everything she's ever told him before, hoping that by watching the moments he spent with her like a film reel in his mind would help him not forget them.

"Love, can y'tell me what's got you so upset? Please," He asks softly when she calms down enough where her breathing is regular and not sporadic inhales gasping for air.

"I-I-I miss her," She cries out into the phone, the thought of embarrassing herself by breaking down to Harry not on her mind; the only thought she has is how empty she feels.

"I know, I know, love. I miss her, too," He sighs out sadly, wishing he could take away her pain, hating the way her voice quivers with every word. "Do you want t'talk about it?"

She wipes the tears that sting her eyes and cascade down her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The one she wore when Harry slept over, smelling a little like him still from the car ride to his car that day, three days ago.

They had been texting each other and talking every day since then, usually about light topics like asking how their day's were or what they were doing. However, tonight (or early morning), everything felt like it was crashing down on her. Y/N's strong front she had put up since the funeral for Phoebe's family finally collapsed, and she's found herself stuck under the rubble. She was trying so hard to keep it in because she shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself when someone's kid is dead.

She had bored herself to tears, not knowing what to do. The only thing that seemed right was to call Harry.

"Talk to me, babe." He begs her, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"I-" She sniffles, "I feel like I'm fucking drowning,"

He hates how defeated her voice sounds and he wishes he could just be there to hug her and tell her everything's going to be okay, eventually.

"It-it feels like my whole life is in ruins. Harry, I miss her." Her face scrunches up again as she starts to sob, "Sh-She was my best friend, I d-did everything with her. How am I s-supposed to do this without her? How am I supposed t-to live without her?"

"Oh, darling. I know, but you will..and you can." He frowns, racking his brain for the right thing to tell her, "You got t'live so you can experience all those ways of life she always talked about. Y'haven't experienced all those feelings Pheebz would mention when she would live her life precariously. Don't y'want to know how she felt when she would talk of such a beautiful life she lived, yeah?"

He hears a hiccup and a quiet, albeit breathy, yeah, from the other side of the call.

"You are so strong, Y/N. I don't know how y'made it this far without breaking down..." He tells her whole-heartedly.

"D-don't know how you haven't either," She gets out, realizing how selfish she's probably being, bothering Harry with her grief when he has his own to deal with.

"Honestly," He breathes out through a somber smile, "The only reason I haven't is because I have you, love."

Y/N's heart swells tenfold, she thinks. She didn't realize Harry needed her just as much as she needed him.

"...I'm sorry for calling you, I know it's late." She says through sniffles when she notices the time.

"There's no reason to apologize. It's okay, love. It's okay to hurt or be angry or upset. No one expects you to be perfect all the time." He pauses, listening to her breathing.

"Ya know, one day, it won't hurt this much. One day, you'll be able t'look back at this moment and it won't break y'heart as much as it does now. You're just in the thick of it right now, pretty girl. But, the light's coming soon, I promise." He continues and Y/N feels her heart beat faster at the pet name.

"You promise?" Her voice barely above a whisper and Harry thinks his heart just broke at the sound.

"Promise." He says, wiping the stray tears rolling down his cheeks, "Phoebe wouldn't want y'to be this upset. She would want you to keep living your life and find out the ways to how she was so in love with it. If not for yourself, love, then for her...F'me."

She nods, despite knowing he can't see. Silence falls over the pair, only the sound of bated breaths assuring the other one is there.

"One summer," He speaks up, "One summer, my family had come t'visit them, partly because of the lake near her house. It was after we had moved t'the States from Cheshire, and Phoebe and I would go walk to the little pond near the park,"

"The one near Hope?" She asks quietly if they had gone to the park she had always played at as a little girl.

"Mhm. We would walk there in the blistering sun and when we got there she tried to convince me how fairies were real." He said in a calm voice.

He hears an airy puff of breath escape her mouth, which he takes as a small giggle -- making him want to continue his story as it's helping her cheer up, and because he'd probably do anything to hear her that sound from her.

"Yeah, fairies. She told me that they live at the pond and t'see them, I would have to find a pretty flower and then jump in the water with it in only m'underwear." He breathes out a laugh.

Y/N gasps, trying to keep quiet but fails when she lets out a loud laugh.

"Oh my, did you do it?" She asks bewildered, laying down so her head rests against the pillow.

"So, I told Phoebe 'no way', yeah? But, then she said she can't just tell me about them and not follow through with seeing them. Convinced me that it would bring bad luck." He scoffs, remembering the memory vividly.

"Bad luck, indeed." She giggles and it brings the dimple out on Harry's face.

"Yeah, so of course, me being like 8 or sum', I stripped down to m'pants in the middle of the day and jumped in the water." He smiles when he hears her laughing, even if it's at his expense. "Y'laughing, but I think I got ringworm after tha'!"

"I can't believe she got you to do that! I wish I'd been there." Y/N says, out of breath from laughing.

"Scarred me of ponds for the rest of m'life." He chuckles and a pause takes them both over as they settle back down.

"...Thank you, H." She whispers into the phone, adoration taking up all her features.

“F’what?”

“For being you, for being here. Just...Thank you.” She sighs.

They get lost in recalling stories of their loved one for the rest of the night, repainting her memories in gold. They laugh with each other until all the pain seems to disappear. The weight, of what felt like the world, lifting off of both their shoulders. Finally being able to breathe after days of endless battles of trying to stay strong for Phoebe's sake.

***

Days pass since the lonely 4am phone call and Y/N and Harry are still talking everyday.

She finds out he lives in her city, only a few blocks from her apartment she shared with Phoebe! She didn't believe him when he first told her, but he said he was always busy with college whenever Phoebe tried to meet up. Y/N's not going to lie, her heart picked up when she found out he'd be so close to her, wondering if he'd want to hang out with her when they leave her hometown.

Almost everyday of the last few days they have visiting, they've spent at Y/N's empty childhood home. Harry asking her to explain pictures and what she was like in high school, whenever he gets the chance. In turn, she's been picking his mind on what Holmes Chapel was like and how his family was growing up. She found out that he lived with his sister, Gemma, and his mom, Anne. They talked about everything, from their favorite things to every pet they've ever had (Y/N, particularly, falling in love with the pictures of his cat, Evie).

Just as the last few days have been spent, they are spending Y/N's last day in her hometown together before she goes back. Harry told her he had to stay a couple more nights with his family before he could leave, assuring her he would've gone back with her if he could've. That comment made her blush and she had to pray the butterflies growing in her tummy to relax.

That's another thing. Y/N had stopped lying to herself and denying the ache in her chest that would form when she was away from Harry, growing very fond of him since their first encounter at the headstone bench.

Harry, also, couldn't deny any longer the way his heart would flutter at every little thing she did. Just wondering to himself how everything about her was just so pretty. He loved the way her eyes would light up every time she saw him and how he would catch her checking him out whenever he took off his shirt.

He especially loved the way she let him sleepover a few times and how they would end up cuddling into the late hours of the morning. Both parties not minding one bit, the comfort and warmth actually preferred than sending Harry home to sleep in his own bed.

"Bet I can reach that branch right there," Harry shouts with a gleeful tone, a bit out of breath as he tries to stretch his legs far enough so his shoe brushes against the leaf on the end of the tree branch.

The two of them decided to go to Hope park, where they both held fond childhood memories at. They settled at the swingset, calm swaying in the seats quickly turning into a competition of who could swing the highest. Harry won of course, his legs being much longer than hers giving him the advantage. Playful giggles and sweet conversations of things occurring in that moment help distract them from both Phoebe and the fact that Y/N is leaving.

Y/N is distracting herself from worrying about if Harry will reach out to her when they get back to the city, if he even wants to talk to her again after this weekend or if this was all just out of politeness.

Harry, on the other hand, is distracting himself from wondering if she fancies him. He wonders if the cuddles and small touches meant as much to her as they did him, if after this weekend she would want to hang out again or if she was just being nice because he knows what she's going through.

"Bet I can reach it before you!" She giggles as her hair whips around in the wind she's created. Pumping her legs back and forth, desperately trying to get higher so she can beat Harry in her made up competition.

"Now, love, not everything has to be a competition," He huffs, really reaching out this time, "But, I wanna win, if we're playing a game, I wanna win." He grins, the cute dimple that Y/N has fallen for making an appearance on his face.

The two try their hardest to be the first ones to touch the tree branch hanging not too far from their swinging feet at their highest point. Harry, however, attempts a little too hard and flies off the swing when he lifted up his leg to make the two inch gap he was short of.

Tumbling to the woodchip covered ground, he ends up laying on his back. Groans spill out of his mouth and Y/N's eyes go wide with concern. She slows herself down just enough to safely jump off the swingset, rushing to Harry's side.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks worriedly, trying to hold back the laugh that's trying to bust out. Crouching down to him, she runs her hand over his arm that's grabbing his leg.

He rubs his knee with a pained smile, "Yeah, just peachy, pet."

"Is anything hurting? Bruised?" She questions with a loving smile.

"Just my ego," He chuckles, looking up at her and admiring her caring nature.

She can't hold it in anymore, she laughs loudly at his comment, her carefree happiness making Harry's ears perk up and his heart warm.

"Yeah, love, just laugh at the crippled man." He jokes, smiling up at her happy face, wishing it could stay that way forever.

She lets out another laugh at his comment, delicately grabbing his arm to help him up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It wasn't funny," She attempts to calm herself but fails, "Okay, it was a little bit funny!"

Giggles fall out of her mouth as Harry brushes off the mulch from his jeans, "See how much you're laughing when I push you out of the swing."

"I'm soo scared." She mocks fear.

"Oh, just wait, pet. You'll never be safe on another swing set again." He playfully grabs her sides to tickle her, but her fighting his tries just ends up bringing her closer in his hold.

Their laughs quickly die out when they realize he's holding her in his clutch, his hands at her waist, hers around his neck. Harry stares into her eyes as she stares back into his. The empty park is serene, no other noises besides the chirping of birds and the sounds of other animals sprawling about. The sweet moment causes Y/N's breath to hitch and her palms to sweat. They've only been this close when cuddling, she's never been this close to his face before. His features glow in the sunlight, his green irises complimenting the bounce of his skin and dark eyelashes. Her skin is soft and warm against his, and he just wants to lean in and-

Y/N's eyes flutter close as Harry's face comes closer, his lips meet hers in a gentle caress. With the sweet kiss, he takes note of how soft her lips are, how warm and fuzzy her intimate touch is making his head. While one hand is squeezing at her side, the other is brought up to cradle her face and she leans into his touch. Harry sucks on her bottom lip before peeling away so they can catch their breath.

Y/N lets out a whine at the loss of contact, her bottom lip jutting out as he pulls away.

"What are y'pouting for, pet? W-was that not okay? Should I not have done tha'?" The blood almost drains from his face at the pouty look on her beautiful face.

She shakes her head at him, "No, I liked it. I want more," She pants, pulling him by the collar of his shirt to bring him back to her lips.

He chuckles at her cute antics (and in relief of not fucking up his shot with her). He smiles against her lips as he melts back into her, her hand around his neck reaching up to tangle in his curly hair. He groans when her nimble fingers pull tenderly at the curls at the base of his neck, causing him to squeeze her side gently.

She breathlessly kissed him, slotting her lips between his and immediately opening her mouth in acceptance when he brushes his tongue against her bottom lip in a silent ask to take it further. As the kiss deepens, the need for air increases. They naturally separate, Harry sucking her bottom lip as he goes until it pops back.

Taking in her reddened swollen lips and her pretty flushed face, he presses one last chaste kiss on her lips, and one to her cheek and her nose.

A big, genuine grin adorns Y/N's face as she stares up at the man in front of her.

"Thank you f'letting me do tha'." He says with a gravelly voice.

"I've been thinking about you doing that since the first night you stayed at my house." She tells him bashfully.

"Me too, love. And it was better than I ever expected," He says whole-heartedly, leaning in to press one more quick kiss to her lips again.

"So, does this mean we're gonna hang out when we both go back home? Because I really want to do that again." Her glassy eyes blink at him with hope awaiting his answer.

He smiles and shakes his head, bewildered at how she could ever think that he could just ghost her after that, "I think Phoebe would come back just to slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her best friend and just never saw her again."

She chuckles at his comment, shyly looking down to her hand on his chest when he doesn't say anything else.

"Of course, I want to hang out when we get back. I want to take y'out on a real date, if you'd let me." He looks at her all starry eyed, squeezing her waist.

"I think Phoebe would come back and slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her cousin and just never saw him again," This time he's the one that laughs.

"I'd love that very much, Harry." She beams up at him.

Going back home couldn't come sooner to the both of them.

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

ahhh i hope y’all liked that, i’d love feedback :) i’m thinking of making a series out of it, but only if that’s something y’all would like! so, pls let me know if you enjoyed it or if i should make a part 2 ??

anyways, stay safe and much love <3

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Replaced part 2

Part 1

Genre: angst. Angst with a happy ending, fluff

A/N: The 2nd part in the replaced!mc au that I wrote a couple days ago. Enjoy! Its super long: 9 1/2 pages long with a 4.6k word count.

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Blinding lights cloud Arella’s vision as she wakes. Her head turns to the side as she blinks, seeing nothing but a white vastness. Where was she? The human pushes herself up as someone calls out to her, a woman- no she’s an angel, Arella is sure of it from the way an ethereal glow seems to emanate from her form. She takes a moment to look over the angel in front of her.

Tan, freckled skin, black hair weaved with golden strands that ended at the middle of her back in soft curls, vibrant sea-green eyes- Arella thinks she’s the most beautiful thing to have ever existed. Her dress and wings are a pristine white save for the singe marks along the outer layers of her wings’ feathers and the bottom of her dress and the arrow that pierces through the center of her chest. It doesn’t take the human long to figure out who the angel standing in front of her is.

“Lilith...”

The angel only smiles sadly at her descendant. She crouches down next to Arella, brushing her curly black hair away from her face and the tears come forth almost instantly.

“They left me...” Arella’s voice is small. “They didn’t love me anymore.”

“But they do... And they always will.” The angel pulls her into an embrace as she speaks softly. “My brothers have always taken things for granted. It’s only once they’ve lost something important to them that they realize it’s worth.”

“What do I do next? What happens now?”

“Go back to them. Not as a human, but a demon.”

“How- !?” A terrible burning engulfs Arella’s body and suddenly she’s falling. Falling down, down, down, until the bright white light and Lilith disappear from view. Her skin- it feels like its burning away as she plunges deeper.

The next thing she knows, Arella is gasping for breath as air rushes into her lungs and the smell of Mammon’s cologne invades her sense of smell, his hold nearly crushing as he cradles her closer to his chest. She can hear Diavolo speaking but his words are garbled- a jumbled mess of word salad drowned out by the fire scorching her skin from the inside out. The way her entire body hurts is all she can think about as she succumbs to the comforting darkness of sleep.

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

When she wakes, its two days later. Everything feels sharper. Her sight is better than it’s ever been. She can hear the crows cawing from the aviary on the other side of the house. She can even smell the individual scents of the brothers who were still up in their rooms and...

“You’re awake?” Melissa’s soft voice makes Arella recoil. Even as a whisper, it sounds like she’s screaming at Arella. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your ears.”

“It’s... Please... Just let me have a few moments...”

Melissa nods and just sits quietly beside the newly awakened demon. It takes a few moments to get a hold of herself and get her newly sharpened senses in check but Arella manages to push herself into a sitting position.

“Would you like to talk?” The blonde asks softly, “I feel like we should clear up a misunderstanding...”

“What’s there to misunderstand?” Arella asks. “It seems pretty cut and dry to me... they chose you and cast me aside like a broken toy that had lost its novelty.”

“I’m sure it felt like that. And it's my fault, that much I’ll agree to. I should have never asked them to help me land a date with Satan... this wouldn’t have happened, right? I can understand if you despise me.”

Arella laughs at that. She doesn’t know why but despite being mad at six out of the seven brothers for not communicating this to her, it was entertaining to her. Was that all it was? Was all of this caused by something so simple as that? Arella knew her boys often had a one-track mind but this was so ridiculous, both on her part and theirs. She rolled off the bed as she laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks as her demon form manifested itself for the first time. Melissa only peered over the side of the bed at Arella, a worried look in her brown eyes as the laughter died down and the former human climbed back up on the bed.

“Are you... angry? With me?”

“Not with you but-” They were interrupted by the sound of three sets footsteps thumping down the hall above her head and before she knew it, Arella found herself back on the floor but this time pinned under Mammon who’s holding on to her with all of his strength as two of his brothers stood in the doorway having gotten there too late to stop him.

“Hey, Dumbass,” It’s Levi’s voice that she hears as he draws closer, “You’re going to crush her crashing into her full force like that!” The purple-haired demon tried to pull his brother away receiving a feral growl in response.

“Mammon, stop! Right now.” Arella tries to use their pact to enforce the order but.... It’s not there anymore. The Avatar of Greed only holds her tighter to him. There was nothing that would separate him from his mate- not after the way he was this close to losing her.

At some point by working together, Beel and Levi were able to pry the white-haired demon off of Arella and she sat up. That’s right... she had died so she no longer held pacts with the seven brothers. But if she had died, why was she here? Ignoring the chaos happening around her between the three brothers, she looked into the floor length mirror and softly gasped at her appearance.

A set of fluffy, feathered, black wings adorned her back while a set of horns jutted out from her head in a way that was not too dissimilar from Belphegor’s. She had black markings that framed the side of her face and reached out to just under her eyes and a crescent shaped one on her forehead. The newly turned demon only squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She’s supposed to be dead! Why still breathing and why does she have a demonic form all of a sudden?!

As Mammon and his brothers continued to squabble over Arella, she curled in on herself, holding her hands over her ears. “All of you, just SHUT UP!” Sobs shook her body as the other demons turned their attention to her. Their voices were too loud and her ears were still too sensitive to loud sounds to the point if felt like the sensory overload was going to make her head explode.

“’Rella... I...” The Avatar of Greed, now free of Beel and Levi’s hold, reaches out to place his hand on her shoulder but is stopped when one of her wings slaps his hand away.

“Get out! All three of you... you... you should have just let me die like I wanted...”

And it's with that that the three Avatars look between each other before slowly leaving. Once the boys had gone, Melissa slowly moved over to Arella’s place on the floor, wrapping her arms around the other female as she comforted her.

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

It’s nearly midnight now as the Avatars sit in silence in the common room. They had met to discuss a way to reforge the bond they had shared with the human-now-turned-demon, but no words had been said. They all knew who should be the first of them to do this but it was the how. How did they even begin to approach her at this point? Mammon was for having no plan at all, just playing the situation by ear. It’s not like she could overpower him in anyway. What’s the worst she could do? Kick him in the shins? Not something he hadn’t survived already.

“Well, since none of ya still have a plan yet- and it doesn’t look like any of ya are gonna come up with one soon- I'm going ta see her.” The white-haired demon stands and starts to make his way toward her room with no objections from his brothers as there was no other alternative they could offer him. He knows what she’s feeling- like she was abandoned, unloved. As her mate he wanted to fix all that- that was his responsibility. His brothers could make up with her later but he needed to do this right now. He was her first after all, he needed to be the first to talk to her.

As he opened her bedroom door, Melissa was leaving at the same time.

“So, you’re back... good I was just coming to find you. I tried to explain everything but I don’t think it worked and she still seems convinced you don’t love her anymore... Obviously this is something only you can fix so I’ll just leave you two to it. Also... I think she needs help changing back out of her demon form... she keeps knocking things over with her wings and getting agitated.”

The blonde gives her friend a pat on the arm as she headed off to find the others.

Slowly, Mammon entered her room. At the sound, the feathers on Arella’s wings puffed up, the wings herself raising to make herself more intimidating to him and he has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at how ridiculous she looks like that. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“Put yer wings down, baby. Ya don’t scare me. I wanna talk to you.”

“Well, that’s funny. I don’t want to talk to you,” Arella growled. “You made your choice and it didn’t include me.” She crossed her arms as she turned her back to him. It was cute in a way.

“Then how ‘bout I jus’ do the talkin’ then? Will ya just’ listen?” He offered her a deal, watching as her wings drooped slightly and he knew he had her. Even as a demon, Arella was incapable of not lending a listening ear when asked for it.

“Fine,” She huffed. “You won’t leave until you say whatever you want too anyway but I don’t care about whatever lies you have for me. I already know the truth.”

“Sure, whatever ya say, doll.” He moved to sit on her bed, goading her into talking to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?!” She stomped over to him a pout on her face. “I’ll have you know, I’m very angry with you. You-!”

Mammon cut her off with a kiss as he pulled her down on the bed with him. The surprise was enough to shock her out of demon form as she wrapped her arms around his neck. When he pulled away, he held her gaze with his.

“I’m sorry for not bein’ there for ya... I messed up- alla us did and we’re so sorry but don’t think for a second that I don’t love ya. Ya mean the world ta me.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it, you infuriating demon. I heard the two of you flirting in the dining room that one night... You didn’t even ask her to stop.”

“Yeah, it sure probably sounded like that, didn’t it? We weren’t flirting with each other. Melissa asked me to help her practice her pick-up lines for Satan. She ain’t interested in me and I made it clear I wasn’t lookin’ for it if she was ‘cuz I had you.” he poked a finger at the center of her chest.

“But... but... You didn’t say anything. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped too.”

“’Cuz I’m a idiot and it never occurred to me what kinda impression you’d get from it. C’mon, Treasure, this ain’t news.” He tries to flash her a smile. “’N before I knew it, almost a year had passed... I felt really guilty and tried ta call ya... but you’d already made up yer mind... Ya got me good, kid. I learned my lesson the hard way...”

Arella frowned as she watched his eyes for any sign of a lie. “How am I still alive? How did I suddenly become a demon...? I carved that long gash up my arm deep for a reason.”

“We gave ya my blood... jus’ a small amount but it did the trick. We turned ya and ya healed up immediately.” He pressed their foreheads together. “None of us know what we’d do without ya. And the fact that we almost lost ya two days ago scares us... We’ll make it up to you somehow. Even if it takes thousands of years.”

“You, specifically, can start tonight. Do you know how many date nights or movie nights you’ve missed? How much I’ve missed just having you in bed with me? I’m not letting you go for the rest of the night!” Arella hugs him closer to her. “That’s what you can do start making it up to me.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Babydoll, but we’re gonna sleep in my room. Ya don’t need this room anymore.” he hums as he shifts his arms under her and lifts her up, carrying her up to his room for the night.

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

The pair sleeps so late into the next morning that they end up missing breakfast. By time they come remotely close to even wanting to roll out of bed, Levi is already banging on Mammon’s door.

“It's noon already, guys! Get your butts out of bed! You’ve had Arella too long! Stop being greedy with her.” It's not the Avatar of Envy’s typical wakeup call but desperate times call for desperate measures. He had a whole stock pile of games he was dying to play but was saving the initial play through to be with Arella and he couldn’t take it anymore. Unlike Melissa, she was actually in to all the niche horror games that were supposed to come out over the past year.

“What’s he ramblin’ about now?” The Avatar of Greed looks up at his door before letting his head fall back on the pillow as he groaned. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Then you can stay in bed.” Arella presses a kiss to his cheek before rolling away from his grasp. “I think your brother is only interested in me anyway considering he’s not saying anything about the money you owe him.

“But I don’t want you ta go,” The demon gives his mate the biggest puppy dog eyes in an attempt to get her to come back to bed with him. “Levi’ll keep ya all day.”

“And you’ll have me all night. I promise. Besides, I missed hanging out with him.” She turns to the door. “I’ll be there shortly, Levi!”

“Fiiiiiiiinnnnnneeeeee,” Mammon groans, sulking just a little bit and Arella laughs at his reaction.

“Oh? Is that a hint of sulking I detect coming from you?” Her tone is teasing, “You- the demon who’s been ghosting me for the past eleven months to the point where I thought you weren’t interested in our relationship anymore- is sulking because I’m going to end up spending the rest of one day with your little brother? I’m starting to detect double standards here, my dear.”

“Oh, shaddup,” He chucked a pillow at her head as they both laughed. “Just go and get dressed.”

“I will,” She made a ‘hmph’ like sound before running off to change out of her pajamas. “I’m stealing one of your flannels by the way.” She informs him as she walks out of the walk-in closet fully dressed.

“The hell you are!” He scrambles out of bed and chases her down as she leaps up the stairs and makes a break for it down the hall toward Levi’s room. As she runs, Arella thinks maybe being a demon has its perks after all.

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“So what games are we playing first?” Arella makes herself comfortable on the floor next to the third born.

“It's another time loop horror game where if you don’t solve the mystery before times up your character has a permadeath and you have to go through everything again with the suspect being a new person each time. I promise this time it won’t affect us... Maybe.”

Arella laughs at that, remembering back to that time where they had to ferret out someone’s wish before the time loop reset. “Let’s just hope for your sake it doesn’t. I dread to see what Lucifer might do to you.”

“Yeah,” the purple-haired demon smiles as they begin the game.

After a couple hours of the two demons playing niche horror games, they took a bit of a break.

“I missed days like this... The days where we’d binge anime or play games.... I wish I hadn’t gotten forced into helping the others... Initially, I wasn’t going to since we already have one couple doing gross normie things. We didn’t need another.”

Arella laughs at that. “So, who was it that twisted your arm into helping?”

“Asmo bullied me into it. They were so relentless about it that I just got fed up and caved.”

“You know what, that tracks.”

“I really am sorry... You don’t hate me, do you?”

Her eyes widen at that. “No, Levi. I don’t hate you and I don’t think I can. You know I’ve never been one to hold grudges- especially with the seven of you. I always seem to forgive you guys eventually... And it seems like you all feel remorse for what happened so there’s no need to stay mad at any of you...”

“You know... Lucifer cried for you... when he and Mammon brought your body back to us two days ago... he was crying- they both were... And that’s when we really realized what we had done to you... that you were gone.”

“But I’m back now,” the demon says softly. “And this time, you guys won’t be getting rid of me. I’ll be around for the rest of your lives and I can’t think of a better way to spend it. Now, let’s get back to the game. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

Levi only nods in return as he turns back to the tv.

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

“Arella!” Asmo links their arm with hers as they drag Arella off to their room. “How’re you feeling now? Better?”

“Uh... Yeah, thanks for asking. Where are we going?”

“My room, of course! We’re going to have a little bit of a spa day. No offense, but your skin looks absolutely trashed. Plus, now that you have a demon form, I can show you all the best oils and polishes that I use on my horns and I heard from Beel that you have the prettiest black wings that are just like Lucifer’s- okay, the pretty part I added on but still! I know some inexpensive, but quality oils to use when you preen them that’ll keep them looking pristine at all times.”

“Thank you, Asmo, I appreciate it.”

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As the pair sat on the floor in the Avatar of Lust’s room, face masks in place, Asmo pulled out their endless collection of nail polish. They took one of Arella’s hands in theirs as they thought about what colors would work best for her that wasn’t already used for their brothers.

“How would you feel about a magenta? Or maybe- no, Lord Diavolo’s nails are black so it would be a repeat... Oh, oh what about that glittery gold that you like when we pair it with a black base? I bet you’d look good with rose gold nails too.”

“What about black with a gold design? It would be a bit different wouldn’t it plus I can’t remember anyone having designs on their nails. Aside from when you do nail art on yourself.”

“That’s genius! Why didn’t I think of that? Anyway, let’s get started.” The demon sets to work on her nails, letting out a satisfied hum once the first layer is done. While they waited for it to dry, Asmo pulled out some issues of DevilStyle for them to read. Some of their outfits had been featured in the latest issue and since some of them had been ones Arella had helped them refine months ago, they wanted her to see how their hard work paid off.

“They look amazing, Asmo.” She smiles as her eyes shine. “Is that the one we worked on together?”

They nodded. “Mhm. Mammon even modeled one of them. That one specifically, I tailored to him myself so it would look its best.”

“Can I see it? How long ago did he do this shoot?”

“Three months ago.” They turned to the centerfold. “He looked fantastic in it.”

“That he does- but then again when doesn’t he?”

“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re biased.”

“Mmm, you’re not wrong.” and they both laughed softly at that. “So... I heard you were the mastermind behind trying to get Melissa and Satan together?”

“Yeah... It took forever too. I only thought it would take a few weeks since he’s my brother and I should know his tastes better than anyone but almost eleven months? It feels like a failure to my matchmaking skills.”

“So that’s why you were always busy with Melissa, huh? At least it worked right?”

“Thank the stars it did. But I was starting to think that it would never happen. Sorry we didn’t include you in the planning- we really should have... I really caused you a lot of pain, didn’t I?”

Arella nodded. “It hurt a lot thinking you guys had grown bored of me. Especially with Melissa being so much more than I ever could be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at me...” Arella makes an up and down motion with her hands. “She’s gorgeous. Long legs, blonde hair with pretty brown eyes that bring you in, skinny but not sickly looking. Right off the bat, she looked like she belonged here with you guys. And then you have me who regularly looks like a hot mess. I’m scrawny, far too skinny and I look like a midget standing next to any one of you. I guess for as much as I seem to fit in with you all, there’s always been a part of me that hasn’t. And I guess, once Melissa got here, it felt more prominent. Your little plan which took up everyone’s free time didn’t help.”

“I’m sowwy.... You’ll forgive me, right?” Asmo gave her the puppy dog eyes.

“What do you think, hmm?”

The Avatar of Lust threw their arms around her- careful of their face masks. “I knew you would. C’mon it’s time to get these face masks off.” They offered their hand to Arella as they went to go wash their faces off.

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

Arella admired her freshly painted nails as she walked down the hall. Unbeknownst to her, she was being stalked by a certain white-haired demon. He was quiet, sneaking up on her before he grabbed her.

“Gotcha!” He laughed as she let out a small squeak. “You’re mine now. C’mon, we’re goin’ out.”

“Out? Out where?” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“A date, obviously. Told ya I was gonna make it up to ya for missin’ all them date nights...” he smiled as he set her down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m not takin’ no for an answer.”

“Alright, Alright.” she hummed. “I wouldn’t tell The Great Mammon ‘no’ anyway.” She laced their fingers together. “So, where’re are you taking me, love.”

“It's a surprise, so I can’t tell ya.” And with that the pair made their way out on the first date they’d had in months.

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As the days went on, Arella found herself being tugged in all different directions by the brothers. There were days where as soon as they got out of class, Beel was dragging her off to a new café that had opened up that week or Belphie was taking up the rest of her free time with multi-hour-long naps- something Mammon had some choice words about.

Satan and Arella would exchange books for light reading as they sat in the library together and discussed their favorites. Sometimes Melissa would join them too, just as ecstatic about the books she’d gotten from the both of them. Lucifer would leave her teas order specifically from the human world that she often enjoyed. They had even returned to their occasional late-night chats over the same teas.

At school, Luke would often cling to Arella- not caring that she was now a demon as to him she would always just be Arella, human or otherwise- while Simeon only observed them with slight amusement, only to pull the small angel away once they had to split up for classes. The older angel had taken to calling or texting almost nightly to check on her.

Solomon-bless his heart- had started hanging around more, making various dishes for her to try at lunch and asking for her opinions on them. Having never learned from her prior experiences with the sorcerer's cooking, Arella still ate them out of both curiosity and politeness. Now that she was a demon, for some reason Arella had actually come to appreciate and enjoy the meals Solomon would make for her. The pair even joked about Arella making a pact with him but it was just that: a joke.

Now that it was months later, Arella felt even more ridiculous about ever feeling unloved by the people in her life- something they had proven untrue with their actions. Even with Melissa staying with them for an extended period of time after what should have been the end of her exchange year, Arella never felt cast aside for the blonde again. The pair had even begun hanging out together on their own without the influence of their housemates- something that Arella had wanted since Melissa first gotten there.

“So, what would you like to do today, Melissa?” Arella asked as the two women walked down the street. “I know you’re getting close to your return to the human world... its only a few weeks off.”

“Yeah... I don’t even know where to begin.” The blonde sighed. “What did you do during the last few weeks before you left after the initial year here was up for you?”

“I spent most of my time hanging out with the boys. They were all really upset to see me go... Are you planning to come back at some point? And what about you and Satan? Are you two going to keep in touch? You’re very good for each other- like two peas in a pod.”

“We’re going to, yes.” She confirmed. “I’ll still have my D.D.D. when I go back so we’ll talk and video chat through there. I’m going to miss you all though. I’ve had so much fun over the past year and half and it's all thanks to you guys.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that.” The demon smiles. “No one here is going to forget you. Make sure you try to come back at some point. They guys and I would be very happy to have you back.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Melissa hums as they enter the arcade.

After that it seemed like life had gone back to a somewhat normal house hold just with one more added on. Everything was at peace now even with some of the days where Arella feels less than good about herself. But she always had one of her seven demons there to remind her just how precious she was to them. During those times, she couldn’t think of a more suiting way to enjoy the rest of her long life.

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Part 3 (the bad ending)

find more on my masterlist

130 notes · View notes

westcoastrry · 3 years

Text

Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry��s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

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lucyslovelies · 3 years

Note

hi queen could you write me a scott x straight female who has freckles and wears a yellow top and likes seth rogen movies reader? i'll pay you

Thank you so much for requesting anon! I'd be more than happy! Sorry for the delay, I was recently court ordered to psychiatric evaluation but I just got out!

Scott x Reader

Scott Dustler walked out of the cabin. It was a sunny morning on Wawanakwa island, and the first day of the competition. After All-Stars Chris suddenly had revealed a loophole in six contestant's contracts that contracted them for another season, though Scott didn't know who else was there, since he had mysteriously arrived alone.

A rustling in a bush nearby distracted the skinny cute ginger and he turned to see Dakota, a blonde airhead who was obsessed with attention and fame (AN: In this AU I decided that the ROTI ending is non-canonical. I will make a separate post about my personal headcanon for the true ending if asked). She was covered in scratches, mud and sticks and looked mad. "Scott?" she asked. "I got dropped off in the middle of the woods for christs sake! Chris couldnt even bring me to the docks... how did you get here?"

"The boat, same as always. No one else was on board through.... do you know who else is on the island?"

"Yes... Heather Smith is here, and so is Noah Lonnie. But those are the only returning contestants... the other two are new" Dakota smiled.

"Wow, new contestants already?" Scott chuckled.

"Yeah, one boy and one girl" Dakota laughed.

"Fresh meat huh... their in for a real surprise when they get here" Scott muttered.

Suddenly a noise happened from anothr bush, this time it was across the way though. Heather Smith tumbled out, her long black hair tied into a bun at the tope of her head. She was newly 18 and looked the part, which made the pictures falling out of her coat even more mysterious, since they appeared to be a small boy. Pehaps her nephew? Scott thought.

"Hi Heather" Dakota said. she was being friendlier than usual, so Sxott thought about using her in an alliance. However he shrugged it off and turned away.

"Whos that?" she pointed to the pictures.

"Uhhh, that's my boyfriend duh" Heather spit on Dakota. Scott was about to take a look when another person emerged from the forest. It was Noah.

"Cody Anderson, remember?" he rolled his eyes sarcastically and a bit gayly, Scott thought. "Theyve been dating since like world tour"

Heather crossed her arms but her eyes were dreamy as she thought of her boyfriend. He expression made Scott's tummy hurt as he thought about his last ex, Courtney, who had dumped him to be with his old friend Mike...

A tear came to his eye which was very unmanly so Scott flicked it away.

"Where are teh new contestants?" Dakota said.

"I saw one earlier it looked like a girl but I could hardly tell" Heather replied

"What do you mean?" Scott asked

"Well the hair was all brown and messy and short enough to either be a boy or a girl, a little androgynous if you ask me. It had freckles too, lots of them... I hate that look" Heather explained.

"Really?" Scott inquired.

"Yeah" Noah added. "And I saw a boy too with curly brown hair... he was kindof cute too... wait, I meant-"

Heather rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. hes just a silly little gayboy"

"Heather that's kindof homophobic..." Dakota muttered but Heather ignored her and did her makeup.

Scott didnt add in (he knew Heather was right, but as a bi sexual he was still offended) because he was thinking about the girl heater described... it sounded almost like Courtney, except the part about the androgyny.

Suddenly another sound came from behind them. everyone jumped but it was just a boy and a girl emerging from the wilderness. The girl was just like Heather had described, except she was wearing a bright yellow crop top under a pair of overall jeans with white sneakers. her hair was a bit tousled by the wind and she had freckles too, but her eyes were green instead of brown like courtney's. the boy said something first.

"h-hey everyone... I'm mickey and this is my sister y/n" he said sounding nervous. "we're triplets but our brother Jay is in the hospital with pneumonia so only we could come"

"Siblings" Heather aske.d she looked sweet but she was like a snake, Scott could tell she was figuring out that the two mjstve had an alliance already. Scott was not unsure of that himself.

"Hi everyone, I'm y/n" the girl said, holding out her hand for Scott to shake. he accepted it and noticed her firm grip and rough hands- it was lmost like shed been raised on a farm. she wasnt like any other girl on the island so far and scott wasn't sure what to think of that yet....

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anythingforspence · 3 years

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the capstone - chapter one

Summary: Reader is a semester away from getting her masters in Psychology and duringher last semester she has to complete her capstone, or passion project if you will. This year, the professors decided that each student will be personally mentored by a psycologyst in distinct fields. When Y/N meets hers, she can’t decide whether she is lucky or if it will be a long 5 months.

Pairing: Female reader x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8 k

Chapter warning: harsh language, sexy talk, no smut yet

A/N: omg tysm for all of the love on the teaser post. i hope i dont dissapoint.

Although I’m wide awake, I let my alarm clock keep beeping and beeping and beeping as I stare up at the white ceiling of my cheap studio apartment. My neighbor woke me up bright and early this morning by doing what sounded like lugging a dead body throughout his apartment. I lifted my head slightly just to slam it back against my bed, whining about being awake at 5:30 am. I’m probably just nervous. I have to complete this passion project for my psychology class by being mentored by a famous psychologist and write a paper about their career and their wisdom I guess. I have a meeting with my mentor today and I don’t know what to expect. My professor kept the identity of our mentors a secret. For the “excitement” and whatnot.

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and bend over to switch off the alarm. Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands down my face, basically prepping myself for the fact that I have to stand up soon. The moment I stand, I stretch all throughout my body, ending with my hands high above my head, stretching into the ceiling. My mouth getting ready to yawn when a bang was heard next door, like a book being chucked against the wall ajoined with my neighbors apartment causing me to yelp. I’m pretty sure I heard a chuckle in response to my scream. I glared at the wall, thinking of all the ways I could storm in there and punch my neighbor. I had two choices. I could storm in there and do all the things I wish I could do, or I could mind my business and get ready for the day.

Rolling my eyes I decided to just get ready. I still wanted payback, however, I blasted Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths as I head into the showe. I grab brown trousers, a white button up, and a sage green set of lace undergarments. Not that anyone would see them, unfortunately there has been a drought of sorts in my pants. I just wear them for the aesthetic. Getting undressed, I put on my favorite playlist with all of the songs that make me feel like I’m the main character in an indie film. I heard a light tapping at my door, like some wanted my attention but at the same time wished I never paid attention to them. I decided to ignore it and step under the stream of water in my shower.

Once I was all finished with my shower, I stepped out into my foggy bathroom. Singing along to Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx, I start drying off and slip on my outfit for the day. I keep my hair in a towel to help it dry some so I don’t have to use any heat on my hair. For my makeup I decided to go for a red lip, neutral blush, mascara, and brows today. Something simple and professional. I let my hair out of the towel and brush it out, not doing too much to it. Blowing myself a kiss in the mirror, I grab my purse and wrap my student ID around my neck, letting it fall next to the golden flower chained to my neck.When I open the door, I laugh in shock at the note my neighbor left for me.“nice taste in music”

I felt something against my leg and knew exactly who it was. “Hi, Payton,” I sweetly spoke to the Sphynx cat at my feet. I named her Payton even though she’s not technically mine and just wanders through the apartment complex. I bend down to give her scratches at her neck. “How’s my cutie patootie. Did you see the asshole who left this not?” She just tilted her head more into my hand, telling me to keep on scratching. “Guess not.” I stand back up and check the time on my watch, “Shit”. I had five minutes to get there.

-----

A bell rang as I entered the coffee shop I was supposed to meet my mentor at, of course with my favorite mask on. My eyes scan the place a little before I walk up to the counter to order my favorite drink. “Hi can I just get a 16 ounce Earl Grey, please?” The barista said something along the lines of yes of course and how my total was 2.16. “Alrighty, thank you.” It didn’t take too long for it to be done. They weren’t very busy and it’s just a tea bag and hot water.

“Excuse me, are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

Woah. His voice sent a tingle down my spine. Probably just because I haven’t had much human contact or the fact that I haven’t been laid in a while but, my god, what I would give for him to say my name again. But that was nothing compared to what I saw when I turned around. I’m just glad I was wearing a mask so he didn’t the way my lips parted when my eyes met his. He had curly brown hair and he dressed like an old man, doesn’t sound like much but for me, that’s everything. Oh my gosh, and he had nerdy little cute glasses? When I realized I was staring I averted my eyes and started blushing.

“Um, yes, hi, that’s my name. I’m so sorry, but what’s your name?” The tremor in my voice made me want to just drop dead. I’m a woman of science but if the Earth knew how to open up and swallow people, now would be the time to prove it.

“Oh hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m your psychology mentor. Did your professor not tell you?” He seemed so confused, oh my god he’s so cute.

“Oh. Oh my God I’m so sorry! My professor didn’t let us know who was mentoring us, just in case we did prior research or something. I’m sorry. But yes um I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” I kept on rambling, looking anywhere but his eyes. Unfortunately, it made me look like I was checking him out. Oh fuck.

Chuckling a bit, he goes, “Oh no your fine. No need to apalogize. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss Y/N.” Not going to lie, the way he said my name sent tingles to my pussy. Oh my god what is wrong with me! I can’t be thinking these things about the person who is going to mentor me! Stop being so horny.

I started to blush and I cleared my throat and gestured towards the window. “Um, should we go sit out there?”

“Oh yes of course. Please after you,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back, hitching my breath and making me nervously mess with the rings on my fingers. We sat at the iron tables outside of the coffee shop, he pulled my chair open for me, finally his hands off of me. I felt like I could breathe again but at the same time I felt sad, empty. He took off his mask to take a sip of what he was drinking and holy shit. He had some scruff and his lips just looked so inviting. I wanted to distract from the silence that was biting at me. “So, uh, what do you do?” My voice trailing off, making everything so much heavier with awkwardness and the sexual tension that was just coming from me.

“What do you mean what do I do?” Fuck. I looked so stupid of course he does something in pschology. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

“W-well, um, like what specific area do you work in?”

“I do criminal profiling with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” My eyebrows bunch together in confusion. What does that have to do with psychology? Almost as if he’s reading my mind he continues, “We psycho analyze crime scenes, victims, bodies to understand why a criminal would do what they did, which helps us to understand the type of person they are, their background, and it leads us to the criminal, or unsub.”

“Wow that’s actually really cool. But, like, how does that all work?”

“Tell me, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?” I didn’t say anything. I was so shocked. First off, how inappropriate, but also how did he know? “When I first walked in, you kept on looking me up and down as if you’ve never seen a man before. You keep fidgeting with your rings. Usually new jewelry makes people fidget but the stains on your fingers suggest you wear rings frequently which means you're nervous. Also ever since I’ve taken my mask offyou haven’t stopped staring at my lips. So, sweet girl, tell me when was the last time you were satisfied?”

I just sat there, gapping at him like a fish out of water. What was I supposed to say? Why thank you for asking, although the last time I’ve had sex was a year ago but the last time I’ve orgasmed has been longer? Before I could come up with an answer he got a phone call. Someone named Morgan needed him or something. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent.“Sorry our meeting got cut short, Y/N. Very important FBI business came up. Here is my card, has my name, email and phone number. I recommend calling me because I don’t usually check my emails or my texts. Your professor already gave me your contact information so I know how to find you. I am very excited for the upcoming months.”

“Oh- uh, thank you,” I whispered, still shocked. He grabs my hand so that he can hand me my card since I haven’t moved a muscle.

“Oh and Y/N?” My head wips up at him and I let out a “hmm?” that could be mistaken for a moan. “Green is a nice color on you.” Confused, I looked down to see my button up shirt had popped open, letting my green covered tits be seen by the world. Eyes blown open, I immediately cover myself and say a thank you that sounded so embarrassing because my voice cracked. He just chucked and told me he would contact me soon. Before he left, I could’ve sworn he looked at me as if I was a sexy hollywood actress or something. But I brushed it off. Maybe he was concerned for me. After all, I had my tits out and made it obvious that I was desperately horny. God these five months will be awful if I keep thinking about Dr. Reid as a sex partner than a mentor. Then again the concept of having sex with your mentor can be hot. Nope. No. I should stop there.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #dom!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

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Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you!

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here!

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas.

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty.

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door.

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten.

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin.

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground.

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl.

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.”

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.”

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry.

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella.

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again.

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head.

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted.

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies.

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it.

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.”

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug.

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough.

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug.

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here.

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say.

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard.

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep.

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched.

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame.

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes.

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue.

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips.

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears.

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut.

He was totally fucked for this girl.

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs.

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand.

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew.

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?”

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.”

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked.

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-”

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen.

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was.

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings.

He had a crush on Stella.

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her.

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them.

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them.

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing.

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said.

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?”

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked.

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.”

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly.

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.”

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips.

“Why is that?” He asked.

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella.

Stay here with me forever.

Love me.

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind.

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well.

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit.

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!”

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!”

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?”

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back.

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time.

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.”

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.”

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.”

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching.

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter.

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s.

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!”

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest.

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.”

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.”

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted.

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s.

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.”

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks.

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago.

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off.

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door.

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile.

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest.

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands.

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode.

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo.

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?”

“Gemma-”

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering.

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry.

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.”

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