#knows and understands that you’ve done more in your life than he’ll ever achieve

[pastanest]

Gale Boetticher x reader

A/N: first thing I’ve ever written for this character/universe but I only recently finishing Breaking Bad (yeah I’m 8 billion years behind Ik) and this man is my mf POOKIE so pls be nice x

warnings: as of writing this I’ve not seen Better Call Saul but I’m aware Gale’s in it so if anything contradicts pieces of his lore found there PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL IT I’ll come back and amend them after I’ve seen that show as well if need be - will be using gifs from bcs tho bc there are barely any gifs from Gale in bb on the internet for some reason

Being Gale’s S/O Would Include

- first of all, Worlds Giddiest Boyfriend™️

- no like actually

- gives very much in-awe-of-everything-his-S/O-is-and-does vibes

- every single thing you tell him you’ve done is a monumental achievement to him, even down to something as simple as going to the grocery store

- LOVES to explain sciencey things to you, regardless of whether you understand the intricacies or not

- in fact, better if you don’t bc he loves going into even more detail just to make it easier for you to wrap your head around

- LEAST condescending person ever, does not believe himself to be smarter than you or anyone else (he is a genius but he’ll only blush and shake his head when you call him that) and is thoroughly impressed by everything you do and know that is outside of his area of expertise

- the king of chivalry

- opening doors for you, pulling a chair out for you, paying the bill at a restaurant, standing up whenever you walk into a room if he’s not already standing, kissing the back of your hand whenever he says goodbye to you; regardless of your gender, Gale Boetticher IS pulling out all the classic romantic stops for you

- is actually a big fan of PDA but not in a making-out-in-public way, more of a will-blush-for-three-business-days-if-you-kiss-his-cheek-in-public-one-time and absolutely loves it

- the fact that you’re proud to be his and proud to love him in front of others makes this man’s heart sing for you

- incapable of giving you anything less than the most heartfelt and expressive compliments you have ever heard in your life

“You are the prettiest star I’ve ever seen.”

“Every atom that makes me the person standing here before you, thanks you for being who you are.”

“If an asteroid hit this exact spot and you, right now, are the last thing I ever see, I will live to be the happiest man there’s ever been.”

- unbeknownst to you he actually has a separate notebook filled with compliments and poetic tidbits that he thinks up whenever he daydreams of you and then saves them up to tell you later

- doesn’t care whether you’re vegan or not obviously but will cook you the most fire vegan dishes ever known to man

- will play records just to slow dance around his apartment with you crying as I type this one fr

- will zone out and smile so fondly, just thinking of you

- the sweetest and most attentive partner in the entire world

- memorizes your every like, dislike, quirk and interest so that he can plan the most perfect dates out for you, surprise you with the most thoughtful gifts and ensure at all costs you avoid things/people/situations that could result in you feeling upset/uncomfortable

- Gale is finely tuned to your emotions and will notice IMMEDIATELY if something’s not quite right with you

“Hey, is everything alright? Actually, don’t answer that; I noticed your hands have clenched marginally more than normal over the past 15 minutes so if you’re comfortable enough to tell me why, I’d love to know, but if not, please just tell me what I can do to make whatever this is better for you.”

- stop it I adore him

[ctrlsht]

Through the Stars | idol!jungkook one-shot au

→ pairing: idol!jungkook x idol!reader  → genre: idol au → warnings: reader is always nervous when jk is around → word count: 15.1k

summary:  Every fan’s dream is for their idol to notice them therefore you had a sole reason when you entered the music industry. For Jeongguk to hear your music.

Disclaimer: I do not have enough knowledge in the music industry so if I made a mistake, I’m vv sorry!

“Oh my god, y/n! You won’t believe the news I’ve got!” You stop scrolling through your phone to take a glance at Christine who just entered your room.

“What?” You bluntly asked. Your manager immediately walked towards you revealing her wide smile.

“You wouldn’t believe it!” She squeals in her excitement. “You’re nominated in BBMA for a top streaming song!” 

Your jaw suddenly dropped along with the phone you’re holding. You immediately stand up to hug Christine before jumping in excitement.

“Oh my god! Is that for real?!” You screamed.

“Of course! But here’s the twist!” She paused and held both of your upper arms. “Jeongguk is also nominated! Male artist of the year!”

And there’s where you lose it. 

Having an interaction with Jeongguk is your most favorite part of your career. In fact, it is the sole reason why you take this path. You’ve strived until you reach your goal. It may sound crazy, but your goal is for him to notice you. Not just as his fan but someone who shares the same talent as him.

Before you even get to know him, music is already your passion. You wrote thousands of songs and recorded tons of song covers but the only difference between the both of you is everything you’re passionate about is only for yourself. Whenever you compose a poem that turns into a song lyric, you do it under the tree. Whenever you make a song cover, you do it in the corner of your room. And whenever you play a guitar, you play it while sitting on your bed. 

You’re already satisfied even though the only person who hears and reads your music is yourself. But when you meet Jeongguk, you suddenly want the opposite for yourself. 

“There’s no guarantee that you will win the award since there are albums who have numerous streams. Regardless, we want you to attend the award show.” Mr. Kim Seokjin, the CEO of your company, discussed. You nod as you look at your manager hoping that she understands your eyes.

She clears her throat to get the attention on Mr. Kim. “Y/N is looking forward to attending the award show. Is she going by herself along with the team orrr… Is she going with… Others?” 

“She’s going with the team but who are you implying as ‘others?” Mr. Kim tilts his head.

“Perhaps… Jeon Jeongguk from bighit entertainment?” You suddenly want to pull the hair of your manager for telling an embarrassing answer. You looked down as you felt humiliated.

“No, he’s not going with y/n. I doubt if he’ll attend.” 

“Nonetheless, they are the only Korean artists who get to be nominated in BBMA and I hope they both win the nomination.” 

Mr. Kim hummed in agreement. “Hopefully. It will be an honor. Korea’s music will keep on sailing if there’s another artist to win the America’s award.”

Entering the music industry is the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your 25 years of life. When you decide to enter it, you’ve expected the worst, however, the worse you’ve thought is not even the worst. It’s more than that. You had to go through the eye of the needle before you even became a music artist. 

But you really want to achieve your goal. You want him to get to know you and your music. It may sound stupid, but you want him to know the story behind every song you’ve written and share your understanding in music. You want him to know you not just as his fan but someone he can explore the art of music. 

Jeongguk’s music is playing in the background while you’ve been having deep thoughts. You swing your swivel chair towards Christine who’s having her coffee on the sofa of the studio and before you even bump her, she kicks you away.

“What the hell?” You frown.

“Y/n, I know I’m more than your manager and as your friend, I’ll advise you to lessen your obsession with Jeongguk.” She sips her coffee after.

“I’m not obsessed! I’m just being a fan, unnie.” You answered as you rolled your eyes.

“You telling me that your reason why you wasted your time on becoming an artist is because of Jeongguk and that is the most ‘fan’ thing to do.” She said sarcastically.

You’re in the passenger seat while your mom drives you home when Jeongguk’s song plays on the radio. It was the first time you’ve heard his music. when you needed it the most. His calm and soft voice comforts your broken heart. It was the day your father died from lung cancer.

His music became your blanket that comforts you every night as you remember your deceased father. His music was your motivation to face another day. And his music is the reason why you became alive. 

His meet and greet is the most exciting part of being his fan. You’ve got to meet him personally and have a quick conversation. You’ve also had a chance to meet other people. That meet and greet event is where you’ve got the idea of becoming someone like him for you to reach him. It was only wishful thinking, and you don’t really have the plans to take it seriously until you do. 

You wanted him to hear your music, for him to see your talent and share the art you had. It was the craziest thing you’ve ever thought of but where does it get you right now? You’re nominated in Billboard music awards along with him. 

The room is filled with staff and stylists rushing in preparing with you. There are numerous hands that touch your face, hands that style your hair and hands that help you wear your outfit. 

“1 minute, Y/N!” The stage director shouted.

You’re about to perform the last part of your performance in a korean award show. You’ve heard the screams of the crowd that boost your confidence more. After preparing, you now went to the gates where it will lead you to the stage. You don’t forget to put on your biggest smile before facing the crowd. 

When you debuted as a solo artist, it was where the serious business started. You thought that your training days were the hardest part however, you’ve thought wrong. 

It takes you 2 years after your debut before you actually meet Jeongguk in the same place. You’ve imagined countless scenarios where you meet him. It was well organized in your head. But they say to expect the unexpected. 

“I have to use the bathroom.”

Christine stands up upon your statement.

“The commercial is about to end, y/n. Can’t you hold your piss until later?” You instantly shook your head. You’ve been drinking a lot of water to help you ease your anxiety and you’ve been in the music show for hours already. It wasn’t your first time attending a music show, but this is your first time to be nominated in a category. You felt anxious about the possible result because you wanted to have your first win. You’re already being in this industry for 2 years, yet you haven’t won even for once. 

“I’ll be quick.” You didn’t wait for Christine to allow you and you already proceeded on walking backstage. Leaving the crowd helps you to loosen up a bit. 

You immediately left the bathroom after you heard the voices of the host signaling that the commercial is over. You’ll be going up on the stage any time soon for the result of the votes. It makes your heartbeat increase rapidly. 

You were half running going back to your seat but before you got the chance to leave backstage, you didn’t notice the person in front of you. You bumped in his hard chest, and you immediately take a step backward.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You apologized as you picked up the three pieces of paper, he’s holding that’s now scattered on the floor. He also helped you and when you made eye contact with him, you dropped your jaw and you felt that your heart suddenly jumped out of your chest. You instantly stand up forgetting the papers you suppose to pick up.

He keeps saying that it’s okay as he continues to pick up the papers before he stands up. He looked at you as he smiled and there you were, standing in front of him looking so stupid. You were looking up because you’re so small compared to his height and his perfume slowly filled your noise. 

You haven’t seen him this close after 5 years. The last time you saw him is in his meet and greet where you got to face him to have a quick conversation as he signed your album. In those 5 years, you can identify how he physically changed. He’s a lot bigger and bolder now. You can also notice the muscles underneath those sleeves. He matured a lot, yet he still looked eternal.  

“Uh, y/n?” 

He knows my name. You thought. 

You’re now shaking, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself. 

“Y-you… Remember me?” You can’t help but to stutter. 

“Yeah, you’re y/n. From Bangtan Ent?” His voice sounded confused, and it hit you. 

Oh great. I’m now an artist. How can he remember me as his fan? Duh.

“O-oh… Yeah. I’m sorry for… bumping you. I was actually heading back.” You tried your best to speak properly but you can’t stop stuttering. You’re in fact blocked out. 

“It’s okay, I understand.” He smiles before he glances at the hallway. “You should go back. They might call you on stage anytime soon.” His voice is literally music to your ears as it also gives you butterflies. 

That day is the most memorable day for you, and you’ve memorized every moment that happened. You bumped into Jeongguk and you’ve also finally won first place at a music showcase. Although you regret your action in front of him by looking so stupid, you eventually recover and couldn’t care less. 

It’s exactly two weeks before the Billboard music awards happens and you’re at the comfort of your bed while scrolling on your twitter account to see what’s happening. 

“Mass voting at 10PM KST for Y/N! We have to widen the gap of the votes! We shouldn’t be chilling because it’s easy for the other artists to catch up!”

“ISTG, if Y/N win this category and mfck be celebrating with us without voting at least once, y'all should just return to your momma’s stomach.”

“Idek how many accounts I've created so I can vote multiple times for Y/N. This is her first western nomination, and I don’t want her to be disappointed.”

You can help but smile as you read those tweets. Except for Jeongguk, your fans are the reason why you keep going with your career. They are the reason why you survive despite all the hardship you’ve encountered. You’ve endured everything for them, and you will always have no regrets when it comes to them. You’ve never experienced receiving so much love from the people who don't know you personally so you will do everything for them. 

Before you entered this industry, you thought that people should listen to your music for Jeongguk to listen to you. However, as you've entered, you never imagined how much happiness you will feel when people start to love your music. Except for music and Jeongguk, your fans are your world.

You suddenly remember yourself 5 years ago when you could show your love for Jeongguk and his music freely and when you can show up in his events where people do not know who you are. You missed the feeling of being a regular fan of his. But since you’re no longer a regular citizen, your actions as his fan are also limited. The only people who know that you’re a Jeongguk fan are your family and your manager, Christine. Before you even debuted as a solo artist, Christine strictly reminds you that people shouldn’t know that you’re a big fan of Jeongguk as it will result in unwanted issues. 

Being a silent fan is harder than you thought, however, there are still advantages since you’re now in the industry that he’s in. You can admire him personally as you’ve seen him occasionally. It’s your favorite perks of being an artist and also his fan at the same time. 

You switch from your main account to your stan account on twitter. Of course, you also have a stan account for Jeongguk and you've been using it ever since you’ve started stanning him. Christine ordered you to get rid of your stan account, but you didn’t do it. If you ever got to choose between your main account as an artist and your stan account, you’d choose the latter without hesitation. Your stan account is the only way you can be yourself without any judgment. It’s your safe space.

“Why am I not surprised that JK owns the majority of the votes in his category that he’s nominated at?” You tweeted before you closed your phone. 

—

You grabbed Christine’s wrist and raised it before you faced her aggressively. Your wide eyes kind of freak Christine the hell out of her. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that we’re flying with Jeongguk?” You scream silently.

“I also have no idea! As if I owned the airline for me to know who the other passengers are!” She immediately removed her wrist from you as she rolled her eyes. 

You are breathing heavily as you bite your lower lips. You closed your eyes as you decided to secretly peek behind you where Jeongguk is seated. He’s reclining on his seat, eyes closed. He looks so peaceful and you in fact want to capture him at this moment, but you wouldn’t do that as it felt like you’re invading his privacy. 

You don’t even know how long you’re staring at him when he slowly opens his eyes as he catches you staring. You immediately looked away and held Christine’s shoulder before you screamed silently. 

“He caught me looking at him!” You buried your face in her shoulder as you felt so embarrassed. You remind yourself not to stare at him too much. God knows how many times he caught you staring. Whenever you’re at the same place, you’d stare at him and sometimes, you’re not aware that you’re staring so much until he caught you multiple times.

“Y/N, I’d literally throw you outside if you wouldn’t stop!”

You’re on your way in Las Vegas for the Billboard Music Awards that will happen in two days. You weren’t expecting that you’ll have the same flight as Jeongguk because Mr. Kim stated that you’re only going with the team, and he never mentioned that there are possibilities where you’ll be flying with Jeongguk. 

Oh, as if you’re flying in a private plane.

You figured out that you’ll be flying with him for more than 11hrs which means, you’re with him in those hours. That thought alone already drives you crazy. 3 hrs is the longest time that you’re at the same place with him and those hours are already too much to handle. You don’t know if you can survive this flight without combusting your heart and without being so stupid.

The whole flight was too quiet and the only thing you can hear is the engine of the plane and the voice of the pilot whenever they have to announce something. The business class seats are taken by people in your team and people you’re unfamiliar with, which you might guess they are with Jeongguk. 

Your dinner is served by the cabin crew. However, you haven’t eaten half of your meal because your mind is filled with the whole situation, you’re in. Your heart won’t stop beating rapidly and ever since you found out that Jeongguk is around, it drives you nuts. You’ve been having difficulty sitting still and you can’t stop looking around. 

Even Christine noticed how you behave which she found annoying. Hence, you try your best to loosen up. You distracted yourself by using your phone but unfortunately, Jeongguk won’t just leave you. As you open your social media, your mind suddenly blows as you see your newsfeed bombarded with photos of you walking inside the airport along with Jeongguk. Your eyes are moving quickly as you keep scrolling on your social media. You immediately check out the trends and you are flabbergasted as you read your name and Jeongguk’s name under the trend. 

You were about to explode but you remember that Jeongguk is behind you. As you check out the photos from your social media, you were actually relieved that you didn’t notice him since there is a large amount of security and staff around the both of you. If ever you saw him that time, you’re probably doomed as you might suddenly burst out. 

When you finally arrived in Las Vegas, you felt like you’re about to fall all of a sudden. You’ve realized that you haven’t had the chance to sleep or to even relax from the flight. You want to arrive at the hotel as soon as possible.

“What happened to you?” Christine asked as she noticed your appearance. 

“Tired.” You responded while walking towards the exit.

“Next time, I’ll try to find out if you have the same flight as Jeongguk so I can reschedule. You look like a mess. Seriously speaking.” 

As the limousine you’re riding arrives at the venue, your body starts to shake, and you are able to hear the loud sound of your heartbeat. Seeing the number of famous celebrities outside made you more anxious. It wasn’t your first time attending an award show, but this is different since you’re not in your country. This is America. Far from your hometown. You’re different from them. 

Then you remember that this is a music award show where there is no language barrier when it comes to music. 

You’ve passed the red carpet and interviews and so far, everything is smooth. It was only nervous at first but when you’re there already, you learned that it wasn’t bad after all. In fact, you hadn’t noticed that you’re already enjoying it.

Before you finally went to the main venue, you subconsciously looked around hoping to see the person you wanted to see but unfortunately, he’s not yet around. 

You already expect to have some fun this evening, but you didn’t imagine that it was this fun. You’re vibing in the music and every performance of a different artist is phenomenal. You’ve met a lot of famous musicians and artists and they were friendly as if you’ve known them ever since. 

Winning the “Top Streaming Song” of the year highlighted your night. You didn’t anticipate winning since it was your first nomination and there are a lot of great artists but here you are on stage, facing millions of people as you receive your award and deliver a speech. You can’t help but to shed a tear. 

Of course, this night won’t end not until Jeongguk wins. Even though you expected him to win the Male Artist of the year, it was still different when the announcer called his name. You instantly stand up and applaud. You were smiling from ear to ear as he delivered his speech, and you can’t hide how much you’re so proud of him. 

But when you saw your face in the giant LED screen after his speech, your jaw dropped. And to make it worse, you covered your mouth when you saw your horrible reaction on the screen. 

You suddenly want the floor to eat you alive.

After the show, you’re invited to the after party. You don’t really have the plans to join but then you found out that your idol is coming. As his fan, you’d love to also celebrate his victory even though you’re fully aware that you’re not close to anyone. As much as you want to drag Christine into the party, she’s not allowed. Maybe being lonely at a party won’t be that bad as long as Jeongguk is present. 

And if you were thinking that there is nothing more surprising than receiving an award, well you’ve thought wrong because right now, you can see that Jeongguk is walking towards you. And when he’s now finally in front of you, you were too stunned to speak. You weren’t prepared for this. You’re suddenly out of breath and you might faint any moment now. 

“Your reaction a while ago was hilarious.” He speaks as he smiles. You didn’t respond right away as you were fascinated by his present in front of you. 

You immediately recover when you realize that you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of him, again.

“I-it was embarrassing.” You mentally slap yourself for stuttering and you remind yourself to act normal. 

“Maybe for you, but I find it adorable.” He sips at his champagne, and you can absolutely confirm that you’re turning red. But thanks to the dim light, your tomato cheeks aren’t visible. 

You awkwardly smiled and you were trying to think of something to talk about but before you even came up with an idea, he spoke.

“Congratulations for winning the top streaming song.” He’s looking directly into your eyes as he smiles genuinely. 

“Thank you. Congratulations to you as well. You deserve it.” And finally, you learned how to smile properly without looking like an idiot.

“You also deserve it.” 

It was when you realized that this was your first time having a casual conversation with him. This is different from the quick conversation you had during his meet and greet 6 years ago and most definitely different from the unexpected interaction in a music show back then. 

You remember the sole reason why you entered this industry and now that you're in front of him, you should grab the opportunity to make him know who you really are.

“How are you feeling right now?” You asked. 

“I feel so grateful for everything. This is my second western nomination, but this is the first time I actually won and the first time I performed in a western award show.” He takes a deep breath before he smiles. 

Him talking about his thoughts and achievements made your heart warm. 

“You’ve captured a lot of hearts as they find comfort from your music. People are also grateful to have you in their lives, Jeongguk." You smile before you take a sip of your champagne. 

You watched the other artists as they enjoyed the night while having a drink conversing with each other. You were at the corner of the room away from the crowd and you prefer it this way. You don’t really know how to start a meaningful conversation with others. Besides, the only reason why you join this party is because of the person in front of you.

You didn’t notice that Jeongguk was gazing so when you looked at him, you were taken aback.

"You know what, you remind me of someone familiar." He tilted his head while smiling. "But I don’t actually remember that person, yet it felt like I sensed familiarity with you."

You don’t know how or what to respond. You’ve lost your words. Even though his words were vague, it touches your heart. You don’t want to assume things, but your heart says that he somehow remembers you. Not as the person who just won the top streaming song but as someone who's always present in his events 6 years ago.

“I really like ‘eternal’,” He says, referring to your song entitled ‘eternal’ that received an award as a top streaming song. “It’s beautiful.” He continues.

You bite the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from smiling so wide. Your heart is jumping in happiness because the song eternal is inspired from how you see him. 

When you were writing that song, you weren’t actually aware that he’s the person you’re describing, the person that fills your heart. Then as you wrote the bridge, you finally realized that the song is all about him. 

“I’m glad that you like it. Thank you.” 

Eternal came from you. You wanted to add. 

“But my favorite album of yours is ‘as the flower blooms.’ It made me realize that I’m more than who I am.” 

You were dazed by what he said. He never fails to surprise you.

“Are you going to believe that I wrote some of the songs in that album when I was in middle school?” You can’t help but to smile. 

He stood looking at you with his mouth agape.

“No way. I didn’t know about that.” You chuckled at his surprise reaction.

You started writing that album when you were 11 years old. It was the time when you found out that you were into composing a song. You were just filling up your diary and you ended up creating a tone out of it. 

‘As the Flower Bloom’ is composed of songs about you. How you see yourself when you were young and how you see yourself right now. You included the songs you’ve written when you were 11 years old to the album because you want to tell a story that every person has an ability to find happiness in their own way. 

“I’ve listened to every single song you had.” You admitted. “But my favorite is ‘seesaw’.” He shows a bashful smile before he looked down at his champagne.

“You listen to my song.” He said, fascinated by the fact that you listen to his song. 

“Of course, I do! Who wouldn’t.” 

“Seesaw is an old song. Why is it your favorite?” You wanted to say that it’s the first song you’ve listened to and the song that made you a fan but of course, you cannot say that.

“I know it's a love song, but I’ve interpreted it in another way. Just like a seesaw, our life can go from up to down. But it will eventually rise again.” 

The song ‘seesaw’ is all about two people in a relationship where it’s not all about happiness and butterflies. Relationships are more than that. You will eventually face a lot of problems and misunderstandings and that is also how life works. 

“I also love how you perform it. You looked so in love.” You added. It was actually true. Although he doesn't perform it anymore, you can still remember how he sang it with all his heart. 

You were about to say one more thing when you saw him staring in fascination. You looked away as you took a sip of your champagne. 

“Uh sorry.” You smile awkwardly. 

“Why are you apologizing?” He asked in his confusion.

“For saying a lot. Sorry.” You answered as you grimace.

“No, you don’t have to apologize.” 

You stood there with an awkward silence because you didn't know what to say and he was staring. You were starting to overthink as he might find you weird or what. But before you lose your mind, he spoke again.

“Thank you for looking beyond my song. It meant a lot to me.” He said as you had crimson cheeks. 

That night, you ended up sleeping with a smile on your face. It is so perfect that you can’t believe all of it happens in one night. You didn’t forget to live stream for you to show your appreciation to your fans as you love to celebrate your success with them. You almost tell them everything that happened but of course, you leave the part with your conversation with Jeongguk. 

You left LA after three days because you still have a lot of work to do. As for Jeongguk, he’s staying for a week because he got invited in multiple interviews and talk shows. Of course, you’d know his activities since you’re always on your stan account. 

You also got invited to a talk show and you’ve already shoot it yesterday and the other day therefore, your business here is done. 

As you landed back in Seoul, you’ve received multiple invites from a talk show as their guest. You were overwhelmed with the recognition and invites you had but Christine managed to organize everything. 

You were beyond happy and grateful for everything; however, you aren’t used to drastic changes in your schedule. Before you even went to LA, Christine had already prepared your upcoming events and schedule once you returned but because of all the invites, it had a major change of plans. 

You haven’t had a proper sleep and you’ve been exhausted. Christine felt guilty for not thinking that there’s a chance for you to have an overloaded schedule, but you cannot blame her because even you didn’t anticipate it. 

The last interview of the day ended, and you were at the backseat of your car leaning in the window as you looked outside. 

You’re about to go home and you haven’t eaten your dinner. It’s already past 11.

“What do you want to eat?” Christine asked beside you.

“Something that can fill up my stomach.” You answer as you look outside the window.

“Pork belly? Kimchi fried rice?” She suggested and you just agreed because you don’t have the energy to think. 

Before you went straight home, you stopped by at a restaurant for Christine to buy you a takeout. 

You were too busy eating your dinner while Christine is sitting at the sofa of your apartment. She’s also busy with reading her emails. She decided to stay for the night since it’s already late. 

You instantly looked at Christine when she suddenly gasped. You were waiting for her to speak but she’s too stunned to speak.

“What is it?” You asked even though your mouth is full because you’re too curious about what she just found out. 

“You wouldn’t believe this!” She said as she slowly looked at you.

“Whaaaat?” You already sound irritated since she doesn’t want to tell you right away. 

“Jung Hoseok from Good evening, Korea invited you to be his guest,” she started. “And guess what?”

“What?” 

“Jeongguk is invited along with you!” You suddenly choked from the food you’re eating as she dropped the bomb. You were out of breath, so you immediately drank a glass of water. 

“Oh my god!” The first thing you said. You stand up as you teleport beside her to read what’s in her email. 

Your heartbeat increased rapidly as you read the email that Christine received. Jeongguk already confirmed that he’s going, and they are just waiting for your response. You were suddenly filled with enthusiasm and can’t help but to jump as you feel the excitement all over you.

The talk show will happen next week and you're sure that you won't be having a proper sleep. Although you haven't had a proper sleep ever since you arrived, you'd properly won't stop thinking about the things that can happen during the show.

It's been two weeks since the BBMA happened and since the last time you saw Jeongguk. You haven't recovered from it and now, you'll have to see him again. You will be on the same screen as the two of you talking about the things that happened during the event. This is your first ever interview with him!

And then suddenly, it hit you. They will actually interview you along with Jeongguk yet you find it hard to act normal in front of him alone but then, millions of people will watch you interact with him.

The enthusiasm you have immediately disappeared. You're doomed.

—

You're on your way to the studio and you're having trouble behaving yourself. You've been shaking and drinking your bottled water and you occasionally curse. 

"What if I fucked up?" You spoke.

"You'll be fine." Christine answered bluntly. 

"Maybe I should just back out? I'll just say that I had a serious injury? Or something came up for the people not to worry?"

You were saying a lot of things and it felt like your brain was literally damaged. You can't control yourself and you were seriously thinking of backing out.

"For fuck's sake, y/n! Can you please calm the fuck down?!" You are suddenly stunned as your manager lash out. 

"Or maybe, it's better for you to back out. We've been talking about this every day, yet you don't even consider calming down!" She then glared at you. She's seriously mad right now.

"I know you're a huge fan of Jeongguk and it's natural to be excited and anxious at the same time but also think about the career you have! You're also an artist just like him! Try to be professional for once!"

Silence filled the car after she bawled. You suddenly fear Christine and it shut you out. 

Her sudden madness made you stop with your nervousness. You started to calm down as you are afraid of Christine to blow up once again.

You were quiet the whole ride and when you arrived, your heart started to throb once again. 

Gather yourself, y/n!

You haven't seen Jeongguk since you arrived, which is a good idea, you believe. The team didn't waste any time as they started to prepare you for the show. You were reviewing the possible question that they can ask you so you gather the answer that you can say. 

You were on your phone when Jung Hoseok, the host of the show, entered the dressing room.

"You look so lovely, y/n!" He starts. You immediately stand up from your seat to bow and shake his hand. You were smiling from ear to ear as you greeted him but then you got taken aback when you saw the person behind him.

"Hello y/n!" Jeongguk greets with a smile on his face as he bows his head. You then caught the glaring eyes of your manager which terrifies you, so you immediately bowed.

"I-it's good to see you." You stuttered. 

The space of your dressing room is in fact large enough for several people to fit in. You weren’t aware that Hoseok will brief you in here as you weren't prepared. 

While Hoseok is briefing you and Jeongguk for what's going to happen in the show, you were trying to avoid glancing at Jeongguk and keeping your composure. You can see in your peripheral vision that Christine is staring at you. You were more than terrified at Christine rather than anxious in front of Jeongguk and Hoseok. You don't want to mess around.

After the briefing, Hoseok tells you to proceed on the stage but before you walk out of the room, Christine calls you.

"I apologize for lashing out a while ago. I just want you to gather yourself." She then held both of your hands. "You can do it. You can slay this interview. Forget the y/n who's so head over heels with Jeongguk for the meantime. You’re only y/n at this moment. The y/n who just received a trophy in a Billboard music awards." She caressed both of your cheeks before she hugged you.

You're steps ahead of your main goal, for Jeongguk to get to know you and your music. You've worked so hard for it to finally happen, and you don't want to mess up. You've entered this industry with a goal but as you keep going, there's more important things you have to deal with. And delivering yourself properly in front of a million viewers as you conduct an interview with him is one of the things you must handle. 

"What exactly do you feel that the two of you are the only korean artists who got nominated in Billboard Music Awards? The whole Korea is celebrating your success!" The crowd applauded what Hoseok said.  You also applaud along with them. Jeongguk looked at you signaling that you can answer first.

"I'm beyond happy. I still can't believe it. I know it's been a week since it happened, but it hasn't been processed yet. I'm so grateful to my fans as they were the reason for my success.” You looked at the audiences with a smile on your face and they clapped once again. 

“I also feel grateful for winning the nomination for the first time. I got nominated last year but unfortunately, I didn’t win. I don’t actually expect to be nominated for the second time and I definitely didn’t expect to win. To all the people who believe in me, thank you so much.” Jeongguk answered. He put his palms together and he slightly bowed.

“What can you say that y/n is also nominated? And she also won the award! Did you guys see each other at the event?” You were surprised at the following questions of Hoseok. Jeongguk gave you a glance and you suddenly felt the tightness of your heart. He smiled slightly before he spoke. 

“I’m so proud of her.” He started while he’s looking at you. “In fact, I wasn’t surprised when she got nominated because her music is something else. They can take you anywhere and you can experience a lot of emotion by just listening to it.” He didn’t look away as he grins. “And yes, we talked about a lot of good stuff during the after party.” 

You were astonished by what he said, and you immediately pressed down your lips to prevent yourself from smiling. However, you cannot control the sudden heat you feel on your face. Hopefully, they didn’t notice it.

“Wow, that was deep.” Hoseok commented as he looked preoccupied by what Jeongguk said.

The interview lasted for about an hour, and you tried your best to focus until the end since Jeongguk’s compliments clouded your mind. 

The episode for today will be aired next week and you seriously want to check the video to see how it turned out. You tried your best to act naturally in front of the camera, but you were not sure if it turned out that way. 

Can you review the whole video? Can you request to cut clips where it’s obvious that you’re literally smitten by Jeongguk? You were overthinking again. 

“Y/N.” You were startled when Jeongguk called you. You’re still on the side of the stage contemplating whether you can actually review the interview. It’s probably a dumb idea. 

“Jeongguk.” You tried your best not to look so tense.

“You did a great job there.” He complimented. 

“You also did. I appreciate what you said about my music.” You gave a genuine smile. Jeongguk was about to say something when Christine appeared at your side. She grinned at Jeongguk before she shot you a concerned look. 

“We have a problem.” 

“What is it?”

She looked at Jeongguk before she spoke. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation but I need to talk to her.” She then pulled you in the corner.

“What happened?” You can’t help but to worry. 

“The battery of the car died!” She then massages her temple. 

“The one we have right now?”

“Yes! It won’t start! I just found it out when I was about to get something in the car. The driver forgot to turn off the taillight and the battery broke.”

“Where’s the driver?” You suddenly asked.

“I sent him home. I was planning to drive you home since it’s too late already.” She already sounds so frustrated. “I tried to call the company but there’s no driver on duty.” She added. 

You take a deep breath as you look at the time. It’s freaking past midnight. Who can you call at this hour? 

“I’ll go get change. We’ll figure it out.” 

While you are changing your clothes and thinking of someone you can call, Christine is also trying to contact someone. Your mom is probably asleep, and you are not sure if the only friend you have is available. 

Even though you’re not sure if your mom is still awake, you tried to call her but as expected, she didn’t answer the call. You tried to call your friend Miya and after a few rings, she answered. 

“Miya!” You called her.

“Y/n! What’s up?” 

“Can you fetch me right now cause the battery of the car I'm using just died.” You bit your nails.

“Oh my god, y/n! Where the hell are you?! I’m in Jeju and I won’t be home till next week!” You sighed in disappointment as you took a seat. 

You’ve told Miya about the situation you’re in and she cannot do anything since she’s away. Although she suggested calling an uber which you immediately suggested to Christine.

“You’re not allowed to call an uber! Are you nuts?!” She outbursts. 

“We don’t have a choice! Besides, it’s midnight—

“Oh y/n, you’ve been in this industry for 6 years! You should already know how the paparazzi works! Besides, uber is not safe for you!” She walked back and forth as she held her phone. 

You were about to say something when someone suddenly knocked on the open door. Jeongguk is standing outside as he looks worried. You immediately looked away because you were not yet used to his presence. You cannot admire him in this situation because Christine will kill you.

“I thought you already went home, but I heard you guys.” He spoke. “You seem to have a problem.” He continued. 

“The car’s battery died." Christine bluntly responds as she’s busy trying to find help on her phone. 

“What happened?” He asked as he walked in. 

“Christine sent home the driver, but he forgot to turn off the taillight, which is the cause of a dead battery.” You explained.

“Oh no. The car won’t start unless you replace the battery.” 

You sigh not knowing what to do. You scroll on your phone to see if there is someone who you can call but unfortunately, the company staff are the majority of your contacts. 

“I can give you a ride if you’re okay with that.” You instantly turned your head to his offer. “I’m on my way home. I can drop you off.” 

Before it even sinks into you, Christine immediately came to him. 

“Oh, thank god! Would it be okay with you? Wouldn’t you mind?” You immediately pulled Christine’s arm and you glared at her, but she didn’t mind you as she removed your hands in her arm.

“I don’t mind. If you really have no one to call, I can give you a lift.” 

“Oh my god, thank you so much! We owe you one! We already called several people, but no one was available!” Christine rubbed both of her hands and she bowed multiple times. While you’re there, who wants to suddenly disappear because of embarrassment. 

You were trembling while you're walking towards the parking lot. You still can't believe that Jeongguk offered you a ride home! You will be riding his car and he's going to find out where you live! You seriously wanted to faint. You swear that you won't survive this ride!

When Christine said that she's taking the backseat, you already know that you must take the passenger's seat. You wouldn’t want Jeongguk to look like a driver if you're going to sit in the back as well. 

Before you even have the chance to open the car door, Jeongguk already did it for you and you were actually praying for your life because he's inches away from you. When you see him smile, you immediately enter the car before you even combust.

"Shit, unnie! I'm seriously going to die right now!" You said in panic after Jeongguk closed your door.

"I can see that, but you seriously need to hold it if you still want to live!"

You take a deep breath before he enters the car. You saw him looking at you, so you glanced at him. He's smiling. 

"Are you okay? You look so tense." You wanted to kill yourself when he asked you that. 

"She's probably tired. Don’t worry." Christine immediately answers for you.

"Yeah." You said, almost whispering before he drove away.

"Well, it's past midnight. Have you already taken your dinner?" 

"We did." You answer right away because you know that Christine will probably say no. You really haven't taken your dinner, but you don't want him to think that you want to stop over to grab food. Giving you a ride is already enough. 

You didn't think that his house is in the opposite direction from yours. You feel bad that he has to drive you home when it's far away from where he lives. Even though he assured you that he didn't mind, you were still embarrassed. 

The whole ride feels like you're holding your breath. You want to stay comfortable, but you just can't. It's Jeongguk who's beside you. You want to turn off the air conditioner of the car because it only makes you tremble more. The music is playing which is better to lessen the awkwardness. Christine attempts to build a conversation and the two of them are the only one conversing. Jeongguk always tries to join you in the conversation however, you only end up answering a word or two. Which is actually fucked up. Christine even messages you that you have to collect yourself and she even reminds you that this is a onetime opportunity.

You tried your best to pour everything you've got just to have a proper conversation with him. You were listening properly so you can also answer properly.

It's so stupid that this is what you wanted to happen yet you're wasting your time. You’ve realized that it's harder than you thought because it's hard for you to control yourself and your emotions. You probably look so pathetic. 

"Yoongi was supposed to be in bangtan ent. But then bighit called him first so he ended up there." He's talking about the producer Min Yoongi in his company because you've mentioned that he's one of your favourite music producers who's not working under the same company as you.

"Oh, that's too unfortunate. We can be a great team." You said as you grinned.

"Too bad, we're already the best team." He joked.

You already forgot the presence of your manager in the back because she's not speaking anymore and when you look back, she's already sleeping her ass off. You won't blame her since she has so much stress.

After a 20-minute ride, you've already arrived at your home. You even had a hard time waking up Christine. You were astonished once again when Jeongguk got out of his car to open your door. Christine already left the car first and entered your house leaving you alone with him.

"Thank you for the ride, gguk. We really owe you one." You said as you stepped out of the car. 

"You're very much welcome." He responded as he put on a smile. "You kinda remind me of my fans when you call me 'gguk'." 

You were taken aback by what he said. You were getting comfortable, and you totally forgot that the majority of his fans call him, gguk or ggukie. Even you, yourself call him that except when you’re in front of him. You should be extra careful when you're with him because he doesn't even know that the person in front of him is a huge fan of his. You're doomed when he finds out.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I kinda used hearing people calling you that." You responded, embarrassed. 

"You don't have to apologize." He said as he grins. "I don't mind you calling me gguk or whatever you're comfortable with."

You've lost your thought as you stare at him. You can't stop admiring his beauty. With his doe eyes that you will probably drown yourself if you stare at them, his soft, thin lips, rosy cheeks and delicate skin. How can this perfect man exist?

"Okay then, gguk." He chuckled at your smirk.

"I uh... have to go." He pointed out his car with his thumb and you remember that he’s still going home. 

"Oh, yeah. It's too late already. Thank you so much, once again." You said as he got in his car. 

"You're welcome once again, y/n. Goodnight." 

 "Goodnight." You finally said before he closed his door and drove away. You watched him drive until his car disappeared and you immediately ran inside your house.

You saw Christine lying down on your couch and you jumped at her. 

"Oh my fucking god!" You were constantly shaking Christine as you screamed after a second, she threw a pillow straight to your face.

"Shut the fuck up and let me sleep for once."

You ordered food for yourself and for Christine but she didn’t want to wake up so you just let her be. Just like you, she’s been exhausted and stressed for weeks. If there is an opportunity to sleep, you must grab it. You were supposed to sleep right now from an exhausting day yet you’re on your phone, scrolling through your stan account while you recall everything that happens today. You’re on the urge to tweet everything but of course, you can’t just do that.

You were biting your pizza when a notification popped up on your phone. Your eyes instantly turn wide, and you suddenly drop your phone. When you picked it up, you immediately covered your mouth in shock. 

Jeongguk followed you on instagram.

You visited his account to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating but it’s real. He actually followed you. 

You haven't recovered, yet you receive another message notification in your instagram coming from him. 

“Hello, y/n. I’m sorry to bother you at this hour but there’s a purse I saw on the ground of my car, and I believe that it’s yours.” 

He also sends a picture, but you haven’t opened the message, so it wasn’t visible in your notification center. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing while you stare at your phone. Your hands are still over your mouth and the whole thing hasn’t sunk in. 

“Holy shit!” You immediately throw your phone on the couch of your living room as you walk back and forth.

Christine suddenly wakes up and she looks so irritated. She stands up and glares at you.

“I should’ve stayed in your guest room if I only knew how loud you can be at this hour.” She rolled her eyes before she walked out to enter in a room. 

You didn’t have the chance to apologize because you were still in a state of shock.

After a few moments, you decide to open his message and there, you see a picture of your purse where you put your cords, powerbank and airpods.

You try to recall how your purse ended up in the ground. You didn’t use them during the whole ride. You didn’t even open your bag. 

And then realization came. You don’t usually zip your bag and maybe when you get out of his car, it fell. 

You’ve left him on read for a couple of minutes now and you don’t know how to respond. Should you go and get it from him? How are you going to get it from him? You don’t know!

You don’t really need that purse for now because you’ve got extra cords and airpods here at your home. You can also buy a new one if you’d like. 

Are you just going to say that he can get rid of it? 

Freaking no! Even though it was okay to get rid of it, you have to get it from him. 

You never know when you will be able to see him again. And now, there’s another opportunity to meet him again. 

Even though your schedule is packed, and you can just send someone to get it for you, you still want to personally claim it from him. 

“Hi! It must’ve fallen. Sorry! I don’t actually need it right now. Is it okay if you keep it for the meantime? I’ll get it one of these days.” 

It took you forever to finally send it. You bite your nails as you wait for his reply. 

When he finally reads it, you start to panic again. It only took him a few seconds before he sent a response. 

“It’s okay! :) Yes, I can keep it for the meantime.” he said. 

You were about to say, ‘thank you’, when he sent another message. 

“You’re not sleeping yet? It’s almost 3 o’clock XD”

He’s starting a conversation! You can’t get rid of your smile as you type. You’re being extra careful as you compose a message to avoid doing something stupid. 

“I’m about to. Haha how ‘bout you? Why are you still up?” 

You’re actually having your mental block and you’ve been overthinking if your answers were okay. Then you realized that you should respond naturally.

“I’m actually on my bed rn. But I remember your purse so before I totally forget about it, I message you already haha” 

You were thinking if you’re going to ask further questions, but you ended up saying your goodnight since you figured that he’s about to sleep. 

You’ve been reading the messages you share with him over and over again and you can’t help but to scream from time to time. You’re now convinced that you went insane.

Before your transfer to your bedroom, you checked his profile for the last time. There’s a ‘follow back’ button that indicates you don’t follow him. When you create your official instagram account, the company says that the only accounts you can follow are the same artists in the organization. You’ve been following their rules until now, but you decided to disobey them for once as you hit the ‘follow back’ button. 

Adding 1 account on your following won’t hurt, right? Especially when it’s Jeon Jeongguk.

—

“Your popularity has increased a lot since the BBMA, y/n. 34% in specific.” Mr. Kim Seokjin discussed as he looked at the chart presented in front of the conference room. 

“Yes, Sir. In fact, that 34% was only from BBMA but after the episode from ‘Good Morning, Korea’ aired, she’s been trending for 5 consecutive days. She was with Jeongguk in that episode, Sir.” You looked at Christine as she’s discussing everything with Mr. Kim Seokjin. He nodded before he spoke.

“I was wondering if it’s a good decision if you collaborate with him on your next album. Have you ever considered that, y/n?” You were startled when he called you. You were looking around thinking of a proper answer to say. 

“Yes.” The only thing you can say.

“Of course, I also consider both of your genres and if your voices are matched with one another and I personally think that it’s a good idea.” 

As they just said, your name is the talk on social media. More people start to stream your music and you’ve received a lot of partnerships ever since BBMA happened. Apart from that, the interview with Jeongguk is a trending topic on social media. You’d lie if you say that you didn’t receive hate comments because of the interview but the majority of the feedback from netizens are good. 

The truth is, you’ve been anxious about everything that’s happening. Ever since the episode aired, you try your best to stay away from social media especially from twitter. Honestly, if this isn’t Jeongguk, you wouldn’t be this anxious from the whole situation. In fact, you’d address everything in a positive way. However, Jeongguk is involved. 

From the first time, you were involved with Jeongguk and people talked about your music. You’ve hit two birds with one stone. Your dream is about to come true. But there is one thing you’d love to do. The thing that will complete your dream as his fan and as a music artist. 

To have a collaboration with him. 

Of course, you’ve dreamed about that, but you weren’t expecting it to happen any time soon. You were actually satisfied with having a conversation with him about your music. About how you love his music and how you were actually inspired with his music. 

But then the CEO himself already suggested it so who are you to refuse? 

After the meeting, you stayed at the conference room to discuss your further schedule with Christine. You’re glad when you found out that your schedule for the following week won’t involve interviews or reality shows because to be honest, it drains you. 

In the middle of your discussion with Christine alone, you suddenly received a message notification from instagram and you weren’t planning to check it out until you saw Jeongguk’s name. You immediately picked up your phone from the table to read his message. 

“Hey! I’m actually around your company building. I can drop off your purse if you want :) are you perhaps in the company?” 

“For fuck's sake, drop your phone and listen to me!” You got startled as Christine called you out. You immediately let go of your phone to look at her and you apologized. 

She continues her discussion and you lowkey peek at your phone to compose a reply for him. 

“Yes, I’m in the company. You can stop by :)”

As you hit the send button, you again put down your phone to listen to Christine. Smile lingers in your face but as Christine raises her eyebrow, you immediately press your lips. 

The last time you saw him was 1 week ago when he drove you home. That’s also the last conversation you had on instagram and there’s nothing more so you were surprised when he suddenly messaged you right now. 

As the discussion ends, Jeongguk sends a message that he’s in the lobby and you immediately call the front desk to let him enter. You were looking at the mirror for the last time while waiting for his arrival. You instructed the front desk to accompany him up until the conference room where you’re at the moment. You were pretending to read the files in front of you to look like you’re busy and as he entered, you closed the files and stood up before you gave him a smile. You didn’t let Christine know that Jeongguk is coming and obviously, she looked like she saw a famous celebrity. Well, she in fact saw a famous celebrity. 

“Hi.” Jeongguk greeted you while wearing a smile. You looked down at your purse he’s holding. 

“Hello…” You tried not to smile widely but you know you failed.

“I didn’t know you’re busy. I’m so—

“No, I was just checking something. Sorry.” You immediately cut him off. He looked around as he walked towards you. “Uh, do you want anything? Juice, coffee?” You offered. You glance at Christine who’s still stunned to speak, and you just awkwardly smile at her.

“I’d like some juice, if you don’t mind.” 

“Of course, I don’t. You take your time going here.” You looked at Christine hoping she’d get what you wanted, and she rolled her eyes before she went out. 

“It’s actually my first time going in here,” he said as he looked around. “It’s fascinating.”

“I’m sure your company is much more fascinating.” You chuckled. 

You have a feeling that it’ll be awkward at any moment, so you try to think of anything to talk about. 

“Please sit.” You offered him to sit in front of you and he did. “What are you doing around here, by the way?” You tried to hit a conversation. 

“I was shooting a reality show nearby, so I was thinking that maybe you’re also around.” He then reached out the purse to you. “I didn’t take it out of the car.” 

You take the purse from him as you put it inside your bag. 

“Thank you for stopping by. Don’t you have another schedule for today?” You asked. 

The double door opened, and two assistants entered as they were holding a glass of juice and pastries. They all put it in front of you as they immediately leave the room. 

“It was actually my last schedule of the day. How ‘bout you? You must be busy.” You immediately shook your head.

“No. My meeting just ended. That’s also my last schedule of the day.” 

He picked up his glass of orange juice as he took a sip. You were staring and you found him mesmerizing. You even want to wipe away the small amount of juice in the side of his lips.

You’ve seen him multiple times this month, but you were still astonished by his beauty. He doesn’t look intimidating however, he can shake your whole system by just sitting in front of him. You cannot be used to his presence and that’s for sure. 

“Uh, y/n, I would like to thank your fans for the positive feedback I’ve received during the ‘good morning, Korea’ show.” You don’t know that you’re already staring at him this long. You were just back in your thoughts when he spoke. 

“Oh, no! I should be the one thanking you and your fans. I received so much recognition because of them. And of course, because of you.”

Even though there is negative feedback, the majority of the people are fond in your interview with Jeongguk because people got to see the stories behind both of your music. 

You heard an unexpected knock and both of you looked at the door. You were about the get up to open it but before it even happens, the door opens, and you saw Mr. Kim Seokjin as he enters. 

“I heard that Jeongguk is around. You didn’t tell me, y/n.” He started. Jeongguk stand up as he bowed and as well as Mr. Seokjin. 

“Oh, I just stopped by to give y/n her purse.” Jeongguk answered. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir.” He added as he shakes Mr. Seokjin’s hand. 

“It’s also a pleasure to meet you, Jeongguk.” 

Mr. Seokjin sits next to you as he and Jeongguk continue to greet each other. When they got to sit comfortably, Mr. Seokjin created a conversation with Jeongguk and you were just looking at them as they talked. You actually want to leave the room already, but you don’t know how, and you don’t want to be rude. 

“Y/n was also having a hard time shooting in a reality show especially when she’s still a rookie but eventually, she learned.” 

They were talking about the reality show where Jeongguk is invited and also how you had a hard time with it back then. You didn’t even bother to didn't intervene in the conversation.

When they are already talking about music, Mr. Seokjin mentioned to Jeongguk the thing that he asked you a while ago which you immediately looked at him. 

“Actually, y/n is planning to have a collaboration on her next album, and she wanted to have a collaboration with you.” Mr. Seokjin looked at you as he spoke. 

Your eyes widen with his statement, and you know that Jeongguk is also looking at you. 

“y/n?” Mr. Seokjin calls you out to speak but there are no words coming out from your mouth as you feel embarrassed. 

You were really planning to invite Jeongguk for a collaboration, but you didn’t expect for Mr. Seokjin to do it for you. And especially not on random days like this. 

“U-uhm…” You slowly looked at Jeongguk. “Y-yes, I am planning to have a collaboration in my next album.” You started. You’re playing with your fingers to avoid stuttering and nervousness. “And I was thinking of inviting you… for s collaboration.” You looked down as you finished your sentence. 

There’s a long pause before he finally responds. 

“Of course.” You immediately looked at him and you saw him smile. “I would love to.” 

You never did any collaboration in your 5 years in the industry. Mr. Seokjin hasn't asked you to collaborate with anyone yet, not until now. You don’t have any experience in collaborating with someone, but you know it’s exciting. 

The only person you ever want to collaborate with is Jeongguk and no one else. Of course, there are other artists you might want to work with however you haven’t really thought of it. 

And now Jeongguk just agreed to collaborate with you. A thing you never know will happen so soon. You then go back to your main goal when you entered the music industry. You just wanted your music to be heard by Jeongguk. For Jeongguk to see deep through your music because he was the reason why you choose this path. The reason why you choose to be a music artist.  You wanted to be heard. 

You never felt so confident, motivated and happiest because he agreed to collaborate with you. Jeon Jeongguk. One of the most famous and biggest male artists in Korea agreed to collaborate with you. 

“Did you seriously buy a cake in celebration of your soon to have a collab with your idol?” Christine looked so done with you as you sliced the cake you bought. 

You’re at your apartment with Christine and you called her to let her celebrate with you. You also bought food for the two of you and of course, a chocolate cake. 

“Cake is something we buy for celebrating. We’re celebrating now!” You replied. 

“I know. But I didn’t know you’re this extra.” 

As soon as you saw Christine that day, you were jumping so hard. You even hold both of her hands as you jump. Of course, you let Jeongguk leave the building before you jump in excitement, but Christine is still clueless about what is happening because all you did was scream and jump. 

It’s been days since Jeongguk agreed to collaborate with you and you weren’t over it. You even message him on instagram to apologize because Mr. Seokjin suddenly mentioned it out of the blue. Jeongguk is fine with it. You were enthusiastic for days and you didn’t stress out during your work which is something your team finds unusual. As much as you wanted to tell why, you just can’t. 

Months have passed and you are now working on your next album. You work on the company as you conceptualize your next album. For you, this is the most difficult part when starting a new album because you cannot just compose music and drop it. You have to conceptualize the whole album before working on the music itself.

Christine formally sent an invite to Jeongguk for a music collaboration, and he acknowledged it immediately. You were nervous about everything since this is your first time working with an idol– not only an idol, but your idol and you don’t want to fuck it up. You’ve been ready to write music with him for the rest of your life but when you’re in that moment, it feels like you do not have some knowledge regarding this field. 

“I was actually planning to write a never-ending love for my fans, but I still want for people to relate in that song.” You explained. “A-and I also want to dedicate this song to your fans.” You’re at your studio with Jeongguk as you work with your collaboration. It's your first day working with him and you were trying your best to stay focused especially when he’s next to you.

He didn’t move his eyes away from you as he looked at you with adoration. You were looking at the pieces of paper in front of you and you weren’t aware of his stare. When you looked at him, you were taken aback by his stare. He smiled genuinely before he spoke.

“I love that.”

Working with Jeongguk for a new song was something you didn’t expect. You expect to experience mental block and you definitely expect to be nervous while working with him. However, the things you expect didn’t come through. 

As you share your writings with him, he loves it. You don’t know if he really likes it but every time you let him review your works, the only thing that’s going out of his mouth is full of compliments. Sometimes, he adds something, but he loves your overall work which you cannot actually believe. 

You also learned to be comfortable around him. You learned to stay calm whenever he’s near and honestly, he doesn’t even make you feel uncomfortable in general. You enjoy telling stories and you can also punch a joke. The trust is, what he shows in front of the camera and his fans are what he really is in reality. Nothing even changed. 

“That faint voice of yours that grazed me

Please call my name one more time

I’m standing still under the frozen light, but

I will walk towards you, step by step

Still with you”

As you opened your eyes after you sang, you saw him staring at you. He’s there sitting in front of you, and he didn’t bother breaking his eye contact. He looked like he’s lost in his thoughts, so you called his name. 

“What do you think?” You asked, a hopeful smile lingers in your face.

“I-it’s perfect.” 

“Are you sure? You looked like you wanted to say something.” You chuckled.

“No, you’re amazing, y/n. You’re always amazing.” Genuine smile flashed on his face as your cheeks turned crimson. You immediately looked away before he saw your reaction. 

“I think we’re ready to record this.” He said and you immediately shook your head. 

“Wait! My notes aren’t perfect yet. I need a little more practice, honestly.” You proceed to read the lyrics in the paper you’re holding. You’ve been practicing with him for a week, and you feel like you haven’t mastered the song while Jeongguk did it perfectly during practice. 

“Y/n, do you know how amazing of an artist you are?” You were taken aback by what he just said. “Ever since I’ve heard your music for the first time, I know in myself that you’ll eventually shine with the talent you have.” Jeongguk stood up from his seat and you were just staring at him. He came to you and took the paper you’re holding. “You can record this song on the spot, and I know that it will be a hit. That’s how amazing you are.” Heat suddenly fills your body, and you start to sweat in your forehead for how near Jeongguk is in front of you while holding the paper. 

Being complimented by your idol is a big thing for you. From the moment you first had a proper conversation in the BBMA after party until now, he never stopped praising you. Every praise that comes out of his mouth makes your heart combust. And even though you’ve received multiple compliments from him, you still have the same reaction. 

Despite Jeongguk saying that you don’t have to practice, he still let you take your time. When the recording day comes, you are sweating buckets and you try your best to calm down. Before the recording starts, you were surprised when Jeongguk suddenly caressed your right hand. 

“You can do this. We can do this.” He smiled.

When the recording ended successfully, you immediately felt relief. You never felt so happy finishing a recording before. You just finish recording a song with the person you admire the most. 

“You did a great job, y/n.” Jeongguk compliments as he smiles at you. 

“You also did. Thank you for accepting this collaboration.” 

“It’s my pleasure to be working with you.” 

You weren’t planning on celebrating the success of the recording. At Least not with Jeongguk because you only celebrate things that are related to him with Christine. And yet he invited you for dinner along with the team. You felt bad because you were the one who was supposed to invite him but he’s the one who did it. 

It would be perfect if you had a chance to eat outside the company but unfortunately, it’s too late already and dine-in are close so the only option is to have a delivery. 

You expect it to be a quick dinner since it is late already, but Christine also ordered a can of beer. You thought that Jeongguk won’t drink but surprisingly, he did. They also encouraged you to drink since you don’t have a tight schedule. 

You’re not a person who likes to drink but tonight, beer tastes so good. You thought that instead of buying cake in celebration of something, it’ll be much better to buy a can of beer to celebrate things. 

Everyone was having so much fun and you were so focused on listening to their funny stories that you didn’t notice you were starting to get drunk. You don’t really remember the last time you drank, and you also don’t remember the last time you got drunk. It felt like you were experiencing it for the first time. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Christine asked beside you and you nod before smiling at her.

But honestly, you started to feel dizzy. The funny thing is, you suddenly felt so confident about everything. 

“How about you, y/n? Who's the singer you looked up to when you were a kid?” You looked at Jay, one of the music producers of the company as he asked you. They were talking about music, and you didn’t notice that because you suddenly lost your thoughts. 

You think of the singer you listened to when you were young. There are a lot, honestly. 

“Adele and Mariah Carey. I love their songs and performances.” You answered while looking at the can of beer you’re holding. You then looked at Jeongguk sitting in front of you with a slight smile on his face. 

“But do you know who I really looked up to?” You chug the can of beer before you speak again. “Jeon Jeongguk.”

Everyone suddenly looked at you and you startled when Christine pinched your side. When you look at her, she’s glaring at you. You’ve heard comments like ‘wow’ ‘ohh’ and such which tempts you to tell more. 

“Do y’all want to know a secret?” Your voice becomes louder, and everyone is cheering at you while Christine is trying to stop you. “That I am the biggest fan of Jeon Jeongguk.” You pointed at the person in front of you. As they scream and cheer, Christine is fuming mad beside you, but you don’t care. Your eyes seem to look sleepy but you’re alive and enthusiastic. 

“When did you start to become a fan?” Sungdeuk, the company choreographer asked. 

“Seven years ago? He’s only in the music industry for a year at that time.” Sungdeuk shakes you because of his excitement. “Do y’all believe that I’ve been into his meet and greet events multiple times?!” As everyone’s shouting, you looked at Jeongguk in front of you. “I’m a full-time fan of yours before I became a full-time music artist.” You chuckled and Christine immediately pulled you out of your seat. 

“Ouch!” You pulled your arm from Christine. 

“Don’t be a killjoy! Let her enjoy, Christine!” Yohan, one of the music producers said. 

“Yeah, let her enjoy. She isn’t so drunk.” Jay added. 

“What?! Are you going to wait for her until she gets wasted?! Y’all stupid.” She shouts before she walks out with you. 

You left the room minutes ago, but You didn’t leave Jeongguk’s mind even though the night was over. 

Jeongguk is in the comfort of his bed as he recalls the things you’ve said a while ago and until now, he didn’t know if what you said earlier were true or not. But one thing for sure, he remembers you. Not the person he knows right now but the person he used to see before. 

Jeongguk sense familiarity to you when you met him in BBMA. He felt like he had already met you before. Yes, he knows you and he has seen you numerous times but during the BBMA is the only time he had a chance to build a conversation with you. It turns out, he’s wrong. It wasn’t the first time he had a conversation with you. 

He suddenly got up and went to his working desk and he immediately opened his laptop. As he opened his laptop, he immediately went to an old folder. He wasn’t sure if it was still there but fortunately, he found the folder he’s looking up. 

‘1st year anniversary meets and greet’

He instantly clicked the file and tons of pictures were gathered in the folder. It was a picture of him celebrating his first-year anniversary with his fans and as he was browsing the photos for a while now, he hadn't seen the person who he wanted to see. 

Maybe I was wrong. He thought. 

But when he saw a certain image, he was stunned. 

It was a stolen shot of you talking to him and when he clicked the next photo, it was a photo of the both of you smiling in the camera. 

He’s been in front of his laptop as he browses more of the folders of his events from the same year. Fansigns, comeback stage, birthday, he saw you. 

But when he checked the folders of the following year, you weren’t there anymore. He figured that you’re on your training that time. 

“You’ve captured a lot of hearts as they find comfort from your music.”

He remembers you saying that to him during a fansign and you repeat the exact same words during BBMA. 

—

“Unnie, what am I going to do! Oh my god I want to die!” You were at your bed crumbling in your comforter as you buried your face in the pillow. 

“I was stopping you for god’s sake, but you don’t want to stop! If I only knew that’s how you’ll act, I won’t let you drink.”

“If you didn’t order tons of beer, it won’t turn out that way.” You cried. 

“So, you’re blaming me now?!” You immediately shake your head when she raises her voice. 

“I’m so doomed.” 

“Don’t worry. They only think you’re joking around since you’re drunk.” Christine gets up from the couch and walks towards the bedside table to give you the glass of water. “Drink your water to stay hydrated.” 

“I have to apologize to him or guilt’s going to eat me up alive.” You said as you take the glass and drink from it. 

“Embarrassment already eats you alive, darling.” 

When you heard your phone chimes on the top of your bedside table, you lazily reached it. But when you see who’s on your notification, your eyes immediately go wide. 

You got a message from Jeongguk. 

“Hey. How are you feeling? Hope you didn’t get a hangover haha” 

“Oh my god.” You dropped your phone to the bed as you covered your whole face in embarrassment. 

“You’re right. Embarrassment already eats me alive.” 

Instead of being productive today, you stayed at your bed sulking in your situation. You exchanged a couple of conversations with Jeongguk and you already apologized for your actions last night. You were supposed to be happy because you’re now texting with him, yet you can’t help but to feel so embarrassed. The secret you’ve been hiding for years is now revealed and the worst thing is, you revealed it in front of him. Although you kinda guess that he doesn’t believe in your shits, there’s a probability that he’ll find you weird. 

The following weeks, you’ve been working in preparation of your comeback album. You’ve already recorded the new song that’ll be included in the album and you’re now working in the music video. The title track in this album is entitled ‘under the blue sky’. You were looking forward to this music video because it was your second favorite song you’ve composed for this album. Of course, the first one will be the song you’ve collaborated with Jeongguk. 

“And, cut! Okay, let’s have a break before we proceed to the next scene.” The director said. 

Your assistant immediately came to you to give you your bottled water and napkin to wipe your sweats. You were taken aback while you were walking when you saw Jeongguk standing beside Christine. He’s wearing casual clothes while holding a paper bag while showing his perfect smile. You are suddenly stunned from where you are and can’t help but to stare. He’s standing tall and he looks so dreamy. 

“Hello, y/n.” He greeted and even though he walked towards you, you were still preoccupied with his beauty. “I had nothing to do so I’ve thought of visiting you here today.” He handed you the paper bag he’s holding. You slowly take it and you glance inside of it. It's food. 

Whispers and murmurs suddenly fill the place, and you know for sure that people are concluding something.

“T-thank you.” You stuttered. “You shouldn’t bother.” Your voice is soft and it’s almost a whisper, but he heard it. 

“It’s okay. Besides, I insist. Wanted to check up on you.” He smiled and made your knees melt. 

Having Jeongguk in the shoot is something you didn’t expect. You were extremely surprised when he visited you and to be honest, it affects your performance. You were tense the whole time he’s watching, and you wanted the grounds to eat you when the director called out your performance. You were delighted when Jeongguk visited you here but watching you do the shoot is different. 90% of the time that you’re with him, you’re always nervous and what more that he’s watching you? You weren’t prepared for this. 

Before you shoot your next scene, Jeongguk informs you that he had to leave. You had a quick conversation before he finally left. You suddenly feel bad because you didn’t have the chance to talk more, and he even went here to visit you. But you’re at work and you can’t control your time right now. 

For months, you’ve been so busy in preparation of your comeback album. It was exhausting yet fun. For months, the longest time you can sleep is 4 hours and you have to wake up early in the morning the next day. That’s who your routine happens to and honestly, this is your routine every comeback, so you weren’t surprised. As your comeback approaches, you start to feel anxious, yet you look forward to it. 

This is the first time you’ll have someone in your album. Someone who works on a song with you. Someone you enjoyed composing and recording music with and someone who’s been special since day one. The thing that makes this album special is the fact that Jeongguk is in it. You were beyond grateful that you worked with the biggest male artist and the person who inspires you to choose this industry. You’ve been so grateful because Jeongguk made you do things you never know that’s possible. You were so grateful for Jeongguk and yet, you haven’t had a chance to say it to him. 

A day before the release of your album, you were thinking of inviting Jeongguk for a dinner, but you were hesitant as he might be busy, or he simply declined. You wanted to show your genuine appreciation for him, however, you don’t really know how and the only thing you can think of is to invite him for something. 

But you ended up messaging him. You decided to set aside the irrelevant things that’s running in your mind, and you just want to let your artist self to show your appreciation. Your dreams did come true, and it was indeed because of him. 

You’ve been expecting two things when you invited him. It’s either he’ll decline, or he’ll accept but you never thought that he’ll say yes and he’s expecting it to happen now. 

“I am actually near your apartment. I can come by if you want.” 

You panicked at his message because you weren’t planning it to happen now and most definitely not in your chaotic apartment! You were walking back and forth, and you massage your temple as you think of what you’re going to reply. You expect him to at least tell you when he’s available so you both can adjust. 

But he mentioned that he’s available right now.

Damn it. 

“I was planning it for another day actually haha but if you want it now, I don’t mind :)” 

You covered your face as you sent your response. 

“Oh no I thought it was for today. I’m sorry haha” 

You were staring at his response as your mind went blank. You have no idea what you’re going to say. Should you still invite him? 

“But you can come over if you want.” 

The next thing you know, you’re now cleaning your apartment as fast as possible. Your apartment is really messy because you didn’t get the chance to clean up since you’ve been so busy and now, you’re panicking that you forgot to order food. You were about to reach for your phone to order some food when you heard the bell ring. 

Holy shit. 

When the bell rang for the second time, you immediately went to open the door and there you see Jeongguk standing in front of you while holding a two paper bag. 

“You’re so fast! I haven’t ordered anything yet!” He chuckled at what you said.

“You don’t have to. I already got takeouts.” He responded as he raised the paper bags he’s holding. 

You suddenly felt conscious as he entered your apartment. He left his shoes beside the door and he’s looking around to check your home. You want to say something, but you don’t know what to say and your consciousness is killing you. 

“I invite you so I should be the one buying food for us.” You said when he put down the paperbag on the table. 

“You said, you haven’t ordered.” He smirked. 

“Yes, but I can do it—

“This is enough for us, y/n. Unless you invite other people?” You immediately shook your head. “Then it’s enough.” He smiles at you. 

He takes out the food inside the paper bag. They were different dishes. It has chicken, pork and soup. You walk towards him as you take away the container he’s holding. 

“I can do this.” You spoke. “I’m sorry for inviting you at this hour. I even forgot to order food.” 

“Y/n, it’s okay! I don’t mind.” You were stunned when he held your shoulder as he looked at you. You were suddenly out of air, so you instantly walked backward. 

Having Jeon Jeongguk in your apartment is on a different level. He got to see part of you. What’s inside your apartment, things you displayed and see where you rest most of your time. It was an impulsive move to invite him in here, but you somehow enjoy his presence in your home. 

Your dinner with him is wonderful. You do expect it to be uncomfortable, but it turns out so well. You had a wonderful conversation with him, and you were glad that he somehow shared things with you. Even though it’s personal. You had talked about music, a thing you love the most and you do take this opportunity to share what music is meant for you. You’ve been wanting to let him know this ever since. It was actually your goal. For you to share the same interests. 

“It really hits you differently when you do the things you love. Even though you got tired, you still want to do it over and over again.” You take a sip of your wine as you speak. “That’s why I’m really thankful that I got to know you.” You smile genuinely. 

Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off you as you were speaking. He was staring a lot yet you weren’t aware. There is something in you that he really likes but he can’t identify what it is. Maybe your personality, your beliefs and dedication or your beauty. You somehow can’t leave his mind and the longer he stares, the deeper he thinks he’ll fall. 

“Were you really a fan of mine?” He asks softly. He already knows the answer, but he wanted it to come from you. 

You were taken aback from his question, and you take a moment to pause. You looked away thinking of an answer. Should you just tell the truth? Should you just be honest? 

You looked at him and you smiled awkwardly. “W-why did you ask?” 

“When we were drinking with the team. You said you’re a big fan.” He smiles playfully and your whole face turns red. 

“Honestly, yeah. I’m a big fan.” You tell the truth. 

“Since when?” 

“When I first heard you singing seesaw on the radio in our car.” You end up telling him how you became a fan of his. You were extremely embarrassed by admitting to him, but he won’t stop smiling as you speak. 

You’ve told him your story of idolizing him. You’ve told him the ups and downs, you’ve told him the things you’ve experienced, you’ve told him how he inspires you; you’ve told him how his music heals you and you’ve told him that he was the person who influenced you on being someone you are right now. You don’t know how you got the courage to tell everything, but you speak as the person who adores him the most. You really wanted to make him feel how he makes you feel. You wanted to let him know that I am just one of the people who became his biggest inspiration. 

You were crying. You can’t believe that you are crying by just expressing how you feel. You were crying because you got the chance to express yourself towards him in your own home. You were crying because he’s in front of you listening to the things you said. You were crying because your dream came true. Jeon Jeongguk finally listens to you. He finally knows your music. He finally knows who you are. Not just as a music artist, but someone who loves him the most. 

[miekasa]

sorry if you've already answered this, but what do you think the aot character's love languages would be? we know levi's is acts of service, but anybody else?

No worries! I don’t think I’ve answered for everyone before, so I’ll take a shot at it now bc I love thinking about people's love languages 😌

LEVI Gives: acts of service

This is one is talked about a lot, but Levi shows his love most often through doing things for you, even if you haven’t asked anything of him.

He’ll go out of his way to make your life easier and/or more comfortable in any way that he sees fit, and he doesn’t expect the same in return; it truly just makes him happy to know that he could have done something for you.

It includes bigger things like assembling furniture for you, building you something completely from scratch, or cleaning your car for; and also small things like making you a cup of coffee or tea, or even just holding your bag for you after a long day.

Needs: physical touch

Classic touch-starved man who doesn’t outwardly ask for physical touch, but doesn’t back away from it when you initiate it.

After some time, he’d begin to initiate himself, he just needs to get comfortable with the idea of it first; but after he is, it’s really cute to see. Catch him on a lazy morning, and he’s especially touchy; or find him after a long day of work, and he’ll cuddle himself right into your shoulder.

It makes him happy to know that you seek him out for physical comfort, and that he can begin to do the same. Also, he loves the feeling of you playing with his hair, it’s a surefire way to get him to fall asleep.

HANGE Gives: quality time, physical touch

Hange likes spending time with you, and loves roping you into their favorite hobbies, activities, and antics. Even something as simple as a 3 minute FaceTime call to ask them a quick question is enough to put a smile on their face.

They really just like to share their interests with you, and would love it if you did the same! Hange is willing to give everything a try at least twice for you.

Also loves physical touch, maybe not even necessarily in traditionally “romantic” ways either—having their hand around your shoulder to show you something on their phone, knocking into your body while they’re laughing, clapping your hands together out of boredom—all simple touches that make Hange happy.

Needs: gifts

Hange looooves presents, and you can’t prove me wrong. To them, it’s really touching to know that you would take the time to pick out or make something that you think they would like.

They cherish any and every gift you get them, even if it’s something as tiny and routine as bringing them a coffee during a busy a day at work, Hange never takes it for granted.

(And they also go on and brag about it to anyone who will listen, “Ah did you see my baby brought me coffee for lunch? Just how I like it too, they know me so well!”)

EREN Gives: quality time, words of affirmation

Quality time for Eren can also be mistaken as him spending all of his free time annoying the hell out of you, but it’s really just him being Loving.

When he’s not annoying you, he really does just like to be in the same space as you, even if you’re doing your own things. He likes having you around because you comfort him even if you’re not directly speaking to or interacting with him.

Words of affirmation come out of him in a very matter-of-fact tone. It’s almost as if he’s not consciously trying to affirm you or flatter you.

To him, he’s just saying what he believes is an objective truth: of course he thinks you’re smart and talented and pretty and fun to be around. If those things make you feel good, then it’s a bonus, but really, he just means it like it’s a fact of the universe.

Needs: gifts, physical touch

He’s not the best at giving gifts, but he does love to receive them, and honestly, he’s very humbled and flattered whenever you give him something that you clearly put a lot of time and/or effort into.

He almost feels undeserving of it, but he loves it all the same, and he really does cherish it. Even if it’s something as generic as a pair of shoes he was talking about, it still means a lot to him that you would remember and buy them for him.

Once he gets a taste of physical touch, he doesn’t know how to let go. All sense of personal space is out of the window, and this goes hand in hand with quality time once he discovers it.

Loves it when you touch him: play with his hair, play with or hold his hands, hug him out of the blue. Also loves to touch you, though he seems to not understand the size of his body when he’s draping himself over your shoulders, or has his leg over your thigh while you’re sitting on the bus.

ARMIN Gives: gifts

To him, it’s the simplest way to express himself without embarrassing himself by potentially tripping over his words. Also, gifts can be given remotely, so he doesn’t have to sit around worrying if you’ll love it or hate it while you open it.

Though, he certainly gains a lot of confidence over time, he still likes to leave you little presents to find when he’s not around. Something as small as buying your favorite candy and putting it in your coat pocket, or leaving flowers at your place.

He’s also very thoughtful, and when he does get you a bigger gift, or something to celebrate an occasion, he always makes sure it’s perfect.

He does it to make you happy, and when you’re happy, it makes him happy.

Needs: words of affirmation

He won’t ask for it, but it’s really reassuring to hear, and it makes him feel really good, and relieved to know that the person he loves thinks highly of him.

If you told him you’re proud of him, he might… he really might malfunction a bit, but your words would stick with him. The next time he was going through something hard or even just doubting himself, he’d remember what you said to him and it would give him a little push to get through it (and maybe be nicer to himself as a consequence).

Not necessarily an affirmation, but it also flatters him to hear that you think he’s attractive. Though, be careful when and how you say this, because he’s very… easy to excite.

MIKASA Gives: words of affirmation, acts of service

Mikasa lets you know how much you mean to her, and how much you mean to everyone in your life all the time. She doesn’t want you to ever feel like you’re less than you are.

She loves hearing about your progress or achievements in work/school and is quick to tell you that she’s happy for you and proud of you.

She’ll also do anything she can to help you out, so acts of service a big thing for her. She doesn’t want you to have to go out of your way to do something she could handle for you.

That isn’t to say that she thinks you’re incapable of fending for yourself; rather, that she would like to ease your pain whenever and wherever she can.

Needs: quality time

She doesn’t realize how much she likes/needs this until you guys start spending more time together; and it’s in your absence that she finds herself missing you more than she’d anticipated.

She doesn’t even mind sitting idly by while you’re busy or doing work, so long as she gets to be by your side. It also brings her a sense of comfort to be able to take care of you during this time; having snack breaks with you, occasional tangent conversations, and reminding you to rest when necessary.

She finds that one of the simplest means of quality time is sleeping next to each other; whether it be for a nap, or going to bed, it’s a kind of intimacy she never thought she’d crave, but comes to really, really enjoy.

JEAN Gives: quality time, gifts

Just. Just let Jean tag along to whatever you’re doing like a little golden retriever and he’ll be so damn happy. It doesn’t matter what—buying makeup, going on a walk, heading to the grocery store—he just likes spending time with you.

Though he—and anyone who expresses themselves in quality time—completely understands there are moments where you need to be by yourself. But if you don’t mind him being there, then he’ll take the opportunity to be with you.

He looooves to give presents, and even though he can get kind of embarrassed by it and try to play it off as nonchalant, he’s quite thoughtful and romantic with his gifts.

Needs: quality time, physical touch

He loves doing what you’re doing, but he would also love to have you around when he’s chilling or running errands or doing whatever, too. He doesn’t care, Jean just likes talking to you, and will take any opportunity to hear you speak to him and be around him.

He shows a normal amount of physical touch and/or PDA throughout your relationship, but really casual and gentle touches by you mean the world to him. When he feels you stroking his face when you think he’s asleep, wrapping your arms around one of his habitually when you’re sleepy after a night out, putting your hands on his face when you kiss him—all those things mean the world to him.

I don’t know if this would fall into words of affirmation, but he also likes it when you tell him that you find him attractive. Call him handsome once and he’ll be thinking about it for the rest of the month. Tell him he’s pretty and you might even get him to blush.

CONNIE Gives: quality time

Similar to Eren, his quality time is most commonly expressed through a little game he likes to call “how many times can I annoy my girlfriend in the span of twenty minutes.”

You could be chilling like normal, having a casual night in and Connie will just come bursting in your room like the loudest mf on the planet, with Monopoly in his left hand, and a six pack of beers in his right.

He lives for doing stupid (borderline illegal) shit with you, and to his credit, you’ve never gotten caught. He really just likes to hang with you and make you laugh and make memories the both of you won’t ever forget.

Needs: acts of service

Help this man. No, really, literally, help him, even if he says he doesn’t need help, he’ll appreciate it in the end.

From stuff like tutoring him for a class, to packing him lunches (beyond Lunchables, but inclusive of a strawberry-kiwi CapriSun, nonetheless); it’s a love language Connie didn’t even think he would like.

He fucking loves it though and never shuts up about anything you might do for him; always thanks you a million times and puts you in a loving chokehold and pinches your cheeks in appreciation.

SASHA Gives: words of affirmation

She’s really good at comforting you, or even just making you feel good about yourself. Sasha might not even realize how much her positive outlook on you might mean, but she sure does love to tell you how much you mean to her.

Adores singing your praises and rewarding you with compliments all the time. She’s so sweet and she doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. Best girl.

Needs: gifts

Sasha loves presents in all shapes in forms: birthday presents, anniversary presents, planned presents, surprise presents. Doesn’t matter, she’s happy to receive any and all of them.

She looks at the gifts you get her with sparkles in her eyes and the widest grin on her face. It means the world to her that you would get her something she loves and she appreciates it so much.

Takes extra special care of your gifts too. If you got her one of something she collects, the ones you give her have their own little special place in her collection and she loves to show them off whenever people ask about them.

PIECK Gives: acts of service, physical touch

Pieck will do just about anything for you, and if she can’t, she’ll commission someone else to get it done for the both of you. (Someone being Porco and Reiner if this act involves lifting or carrying anything heavy).

She adores the smile on your face after she tells you she’s taken care of something you were putting off or having trouble doing; it makes her whole day to see you happy and relieved to have one less task on your to-do list.

She definitely does things because it makes her happy to see you happy, but there’s a small part of her that’s not above admitting she likes to be rewarded for it, too. Even something as small as a hug will do 😌

That’s also where the physical touch comes in: Pieck is kind of handsy, an almost unexpectedly protective kind of way. It’s equal parts of her liking to show you off and have her hands on you, and making sure nobody else thinks about doing the same.

Needs: quality time

Once she discovers the joy of having someone else to laze around with, take naps with, and do… questionable antics with, Pieck feels like she’s discovered the true meaning of life.

Adores when you ask to come along with her to run errands, or when you show interest in any of her many hobbies. She comes to find that she loves sharing them with you.

Napping together is a must, and if you think she’ll let you out of her hold just because your leg cramped or you have to use the bathroom, then think again. There’s a minimum of three one-hour naps per week with her.

PORCO Gives: acts of service, gifts

Gifts might come as a surprise for him, but he’s got a good memory, so when he sees something you’ve been talking about, he’ll just pick it up/buy it for you.

Could be anything from a new pair of house slippers, to a pair of earrings you showed him once. If he sees it and remembers you wanted it, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll just get it. You can’t say he never did anything for you.

He approaches acts of service the same way, and usually does things he knows he can handle doing for you, like cleaning your car, cooking you dinner, or giving you a massage.

He can get kinda smug about it tho, going off about how you’re his little baby and that you need him to take care of you, as if he didn’t go out of his way to do these things, unprompted 🙄

Needs: physical touch

He’s not going out of his way to do extreme PDA, but he’s not hiding it either; if he feels like touching you, he will. But the first time you initiate it, or the first time you touch him in a gentle way, he’s such a goner.

He doesn’t even know how to process it at a first, and when he does he feels stupid and embarrassed for even liking it, but he certainly likes it that for damn sure.

He gets kinda cranky if you don’t cuddle up to him or hold his hand or poke his cheek (even though he claims it’s oh so annoying, you know he likesssss it).

[sukirichi]

earned it [02]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. mentions of murder, suggestive content, unedited fic

notes. err, i’m only doing this on impulse. i would like to continue it, but i think part one stands enough for itself :> i might delete this if i don’t like it a few days later lollll

series masterlist

Your infamous customer hadn’t arrived even as the restaurant closed. You watched close enough, fidgety in your movements and often bumping into other servers, all because your gaze kept darting back to the front door, awaiting his presence.

There’s no actual reason why you want to see him. Maybe it’s because he left an impression? The guy didn’t even budge after finding out someone had snuck into the kitchen to poison him, leaving you to wonder why anyone wanted to kill him. Not that it was any of your business, but you figured it was only common between powerful people who are equally greedy. Still, you’re unfocussed in your work, apologizing every now and then when your boss shook their head at you.

Thankfully, you managed to get back to your old pace. Thoughts of the white-haired tall man left the room at the same time everyone did, leaving only you and your boss in the locker room. You ended up working two shifts again on this weekend, your co-worker asking you to cover for them due to sudden family issues.

It’s tiring, that much is for sure, but you won’t complain when it’s more money down in your pocket. You’re dazzled, however, as you leave the locker room and see that your main chefs are still there.

Upon seeing you, they immediately usher you into a lone table, table 98 that remained untouched the whole night, a two lit candles illuminating the otherwise darkness of the isolated restaurant. Only this time, it’s occupied by him no less, his azure eyes flittering up to yours at the sound of your hesitant footsteps.

You’ve been looking for him the whole night, yet now that he’s in front of you, you don’t have any words to say. Instead, you bow down deep, the hands clasped in your lap shaking.

“S-Sir.”

“No need to be so nervous. I only wish to discuss something with you,” his laugh is so carefree, lighthearted as he gestures to the empty spot across him. “Take a seat,” Wordlessly, you foolow his orders and dash down to the seat, spine straight and head held high. There’s a hint of amusement in his small smile, but he doesn’t tease you, save for the lilting tone he held. “So you’re in sophomore year of university?”

“Yes, Sir. How’d you know?” You furrowed your brows, unsure of whether you’re supposed to expensive meal served in two.

Gosh, and this was on page three too, a single meal cost at least six months’ worth of rent.

“I pulled a string or two,” he lifts one shoulder lazily, waving his knife in the air. “And please, call me Satoru. Assuming we come to an understanding, things will go well for the both of us. You are in need of financial aid, yes?” You nod, utterly clueless in where this is leading, but Satoru’s already made up his mind long before he came here that he found no need in beating around the bush.

“Good. Then what do you say about being my sugar baby?”

“S-sugar baby?” you repeat the word first in confusion, then with distaste. He simply hums around the meat he’s eating, as if it’s a normal occurrence for him to inquire such things, and you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

You don’t care that this guy is your precious customer – he was just the same as everyone else.

“Is that the reason why you asked me to stay behind? Do you think you can just pay people to sleep with you? It may have worked on others, but not to me. I would rather keep my dignity than be with you,” you breathe hard after your rant, slapping your palms down on the table. The impact of it makes the table shake, his hand reflexively reaching to steady his wine glass. “As for what happened yesterday, you don’t have to thank me about it. I did what any right-minded person would.”

“And if I said I never wanted to be saved?” he asks, his tone still so calm that it further infuriates you. You stare at him, stunned and mouth gaping. “Sit down. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Thank you for graciousness, Sir, but I really don’t—”

“Angel,” You freeze at the nickname. He chuckles with his forehead pressed to his clasped hands, “Do you really think I need to pay people to sleep with me? I could have anyone I want,” his voice falls an octave or two, the sonorous warning rumbling something…alien inside your body. You stand there, unable to move, and he easily sees through this as he hides a smirk behind his drink. “Sit down. I’m not done talking to you.”

You don’t know what snapped in you to actually follow, but his words weren’t just that. They were always laced with eased dominance, the words leaving his lips coming out as a command. No, it was more like a hypnotizing order, and you’re nothing but a puppet enslaved by it.

His smile only grows bigger, and you hate that he looks ridiculously handsome under the dim lights of the room. Life would’ve been much easier if this man had been ugly.

“As I was saying, this relationship should be casual, no strings attached. I’d prefer if you’re exclusive to me, and in return, I’ll cover all your school fees and everything else. As for the sex,” he cuts his eyes straight to yours, an intense burning heat in them. You squirm in your seat, a little intimidated, albeit excited, by this proposition too, though you’d rather die than let him know that, “I don’t need that from you. I just want someone to talk to.”

“You’re paying me to talk to you?”

“No,” he chuckles, “I’m saying you form a relationship with me in exchange of financial aid. You’d be similar to a lover, nothing less of a friend,” he stares at his drink so hard like he was having a debate with it. A few seconds later, he found his answer, the gleam in his eyes surreptitious as he says, “Someone I can trust.”

You huff. Surely it wasn’t easy as that. “Why me?”

“No reason,” he shrugged, “I just find you endearing, that is all,” You lean back on your seat, trying to process all this. The hesitance must be written all over your face because he adjusts his tie, sliding a white business card your way before sliding his chair back in. At least he’s well-mannered enough to do that. “You can take your time to think about it. There’s no need to rush.”

Somehow, seeing his figure retreat triggers something within you. You watch as silhouettes emerge from the darkness trail after him; must be his security team, serving as an additional note that what you so struggled to achieve was likely nothing for him.

Was it fear? Desperation? Shame?

You don’t know, you won’t ever really know, but you run up to him anyway, brave enough to tug at his sleeve. The guards surrounding him tense up at the contact, stepping away only when he raises a finger that spoke a thousand words.

“You-you’ll pay for everything?”

With his back turned to you, you failed to see that victorious grin he wore. “And everything more,” he reassured. He turns around to confirm your submission, but you’re quivering under his towering frame, poor hands clutched around the card so tightly he won’t be surprised if you break it. He chuckles, coaxing the worries out of you as he caresses your cheek, his breath evident of expensive liquor hitting your cheeks. “Relax, angel. It’s not like you’re selling your soul to the devil.”

Your pupils blow wide at the close proximity. If he was attractive before, it’s nothing compared to the clarity of his sharp, angular features that are softened by his playful smile. Oddly enough, his thumb caressing your cheeks is tender yet calloused.

There’s no telling when who put who under a spell, because you’re clutching helplessly at his suit jacket, whispering, “Am I not?”

You are, he wants to say, but you’re so innocent, so vulnerable – such an angel, he can’t help but hum in his head – that he doesn’t have the heart to let you know. He already knew things were bound to fall out of place one another, but until that hasn’t happened yet, he’ll have to keep you close. He’ll make you his.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he declares so confidently that you couldn’t even question his capability to do so you, and for a moment, just a moment, your knees weaken under his stare. “Now that, I can promise.”

Should you have pulled away then? When he leaned down to seal the contract with a kiss, should you have pulled away then? Or better yet, could you even pull away then?

You’ve been so alone your whole life that each moment with him is awakening, soul-crushing, mind-shattering and so damn weakening that you should’ve pulled away then. If anyone were to tell you you’d share your first kiss after work hours with a man whose name you don’t even know of, you’d tell them they were crazy, crazier if they claimed you would enjoy it.

But you did. Oh, you did, you were addicted to him – his taste, his scent, his touch, everything about him – that when he pulled away, taking away every last breath in your lung that formerly remained taint-free by him, you’re left wanting. Craving.

And he knows this. How could he not? Your eyes are hazy with lust, chest pressed against his firm ones that would soon be the same body you found home over and over again.  You’re not the only left intoxicated from this sudden agreement. Whatever you feel, he feels it twice as much after years of watching you from the sidelines, asking himself a million times over what it is about you that pulled him in so much in the first place.

The innocence? The dedication? The youthful naivety?

Gojo wants to laugh at himself. It was never any of those – he simply wanted to fool himself that maybe he’s worthy of this, of your love, of your purity. He’s selfish, manipulative, heartless, and he wants nothing more than someone like you to make him feel like he’s everything he’s not.

He steps forward to brush his nose against yours; breathing in the tiny gasps you reward him with. And he’s barely even touched you.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he rasps, butterfly touches all the way down your back to hold you flush against him, letting you feel that he’s all muscle and hardness, while you’re the complete opposite, composed of softness and little ghosting kisses. Perhaps when he gives you by a name, he was right to call you –  “My Angel.”

The loud blaring of your alarm cuts through the silence of the room, its shrill sound piercing your ears. You groan, blindly patting the bedside table to swipe snooze. The spot next to you has been cold for a while now, but it’s normal for Satoru to leave early for work that you burrow yourself deeper in the covers. Five more minutes of sleep shouldn’t be so bad; it’s the weekend, anyway. You’ve got nothing else to do.

Waking up after that, on the other hand, now that is an impending task on itself.

You’re beyond sore, your inner thighs littered with handprints and your shoulder covered in love bites. “Jeez,” you mutter to yourself, stepping out of the bathroom. Tying your robe around you, you go out your shared bedroom, rubbing your eyes to get the sleep out.

It’s past noon already – Satoru really wore you out. And fuck, you could barely walk. You had to grip the counters just to sit on the stools, and even then, you’re wincing from the pain.

He should be doing paperwork in his office right now or something; he never really told you what to do. You don’t feel like asking either since he’s made it clear he prefers to keep his personal life, well…personal. But nevertheless, you swing your legs back and forth on the stool, texting him a quick I love you baby :)

Satoru doesn’t reply.

Usually, he’d respond in a few minutes, always supplied with a wink and an eggplant emoji. It was so him to act this way, that when those few minutes turned into a few hours and you’re met with radio silence, you can’t help but worry.

You try to brush it off, ignoring the deafening silence that rings all over his penthouse. He’s busy, he’s working, he’s got things to do – that’s all it is.

You convince yourself hard enough that you’ve cleaned the place until it’s sparkling, your reflection bouncing off the black marble floors. Every minute, though, your mind would race back to him. Not thinking about him proved to be a really daunting task because you think of him when you’re eating, reminiscing the way he’d always surprise you with a back hug, muttering morning angel all over your skin just to distract you from your meal. You think of him as you’re killing time with boring dramas; if he was here, he’d nudge your leg with his foot, pushing your shorts until it exposes your panties. He’d make sure you don’t get to focus at all, riling you up and kissing you hard that the show playing becomes nothing but background noise. You think of him, you dream of him, you remember him – and yet, you can’t feel him.

Nails bitten down to the skin, you scramble for your phone, swiping call over his contact. It doesn’t go through. Now that’s another odd thing; Satoru never fails to pick up your calls.

“He’s just busy,” you lie to yourself, telling the same thing over and over again even as night falls and you’re staring at the empty left side of the bed, hands smoothing over where the curve of his body would’ve been. “He’s just busy,” you say once more, giving into the exhaustion brought on by your worries. “He’ll come home soon. He always will.”

Except he didn’t.

And that was two weeks ago.

“Angel, I got you—” Satoru immediately clamps his shut, his footsteps muted as he walks closer to you. You’ve been dating for a few months now, and you’re still very wary of the nature of your relationship so you refuse to move in with him. He doesn’t mind, he respects your space and decisions, but now he’s starting to regret letting you have your way. You’re hunched over your swiveling chair, cheek pressed against the opened textbook and glasses perched on your hair. The lamp desk illuminates the dark circles lining your eyes, his heart breaking at the sight.

Thanks to his help, you’ve been able to spend more time focusing on your studies. It should be comforting, but Satoru’s heart aches as he thinks of what you’ve been like prior to meeting him.

How long have you stayed up all night just to pass your exams? How long have you cried yourself to sleep, unable to handle the burden placed by the world on your shoulders at such a young age? How long have you had to turn down friends’ invites to parties with a forced smile because you had to go to work? How many times have you stared at a failing mark, teeth clenched because you studied well for it; your exhaustion just got the best of you and muddled your brain?

Satoru places the beer and dinner he’s got you on his way back home on top of your one-man dining table, pressing a kiss at the top of your head. You look so beautiful this way – unaware, unknowing, and focused in nothing but the future ahead of you that you don’t bother yourself with his past.

Perhaps…it was comforting, after all.

He’d rather have you worry over your own studies than worry about him. Satoru can’t stomach the idea of you – his precious angel – being involved in his own shit, possibly get caught between the crossfire. It pains him to say it, but he doesn’t want you getting too close for comfort.

So he stays there by your side, simply because it would expel all ideas of you wanting to be beside him. He’ll be right where you’re safe, and the sigh that leaves your lips when he moves you to your bed, fitting in his long, lanky bed on your cramped mattress an immense struggle. As if feeling that you’re finally home, you snuggle closer to his chest, murmuring sweet nothings that tug at his heartstrings.

Satoru rubs circles at your back, staring so hard at the chipped paint on your wall that he’s sure he’s got it burned in his memory.

Now that he thinks about it, he should’ve been satisfied with that. He should’ve held back in his desire to have more of you. He should’ve just tucked you in and left, but he was never really in control of himself. Before he knew it, he’s pulled in by you too much, encouraging him to move in with you under the lie it’s easier to keep an eye on you.

Had he just left you earlier…would things have been different then?

He’s asked himself this question too many times. Satoru always came to one conclusion. He loved you way too much that it consumed him, and soon the love he held for you slowly burned you inch by inch. The only way to save you was to pull away – but he wasn’t ready for that yet, not now – but he’s too scared, too deep in love that he ignores the warning signals and holds you close instead, finding comfort in the warmth of your arms.

Fuck. Satoru downs his second drink, glaring at everyone beneath his shades. Geto snickers beside him, sending side eyes to his boss every now and then just to check. Of course, Satoru’s not actually going to pass out, he was no lightweight, but he’d been uneasy every since that pretentious gold envelope landed on his desk.

One of the downsides of being a mafia leader meant you had to mingle with other clan shit, including him of all people. There were always new leaders popping out of nowhere, Satoru quote unquoting, criminals be spawning like maniacs.

For fourteen years – fourteen fucking years – his clan had been in bad blood with the Zen’ins. They were pretty new in the illegal side of business, starting off as a powerful name in the trade industry before they got interested in oil. One thing led to another, the family began to realize they could have so much more if they turned a blind eye to a law or to, soon shifting into illegal weaponry trade, human trafficking, then drug manufacturing.

These bastards had the audacity to insult the Gojo Clan when Satoru’s family dropped by to strike a contract out of curiosity to their goods, only to be turned down because they’re ‘barbaric’ and ‘informal.’

Satoru still remembers that humiliating moment of being escorted out by bodyguards, but he held his head high, vowing to show that bastard Zen’in guy that the Gojo’s were one of the powerhouses for a reason. He doesn’t even know where the elderly guy got his confidence from. Mafia business was not the same as their former expertise, yet they acted all high and mighty with their rules and standard of being sophisticated even in a life or death situation.

Gojo doesn’t know whether he should be happy or sad that the old man died, his son taking over just as soon as his father perished. He would’ve celebrated with a whiskey or two, except the new clan leader was quite adamant in cleaning up their name to prove he would not create the same mistake his father did.

The new leader threw a large cruise party, inviting pretty much everyone they were chummy with, and Satoru has never felt more out of place. He recognized a face or two, but he couldn’t really give a fuck. He hated events like this – it was all about establishing power and face.

Satoru groaned under his breath, swiping at another flute as a waiter passed by. He felt the bubbles fizzle down his throat, the slight burning sensation somewhat easing his nerves.

He leans back at the wall and checks his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. It’s been two fucking hours since they arrived, and the host still hadn’t arrived. If they planned on being ‘fashionably late’ Satoru won’t hesitate to slice someone’s neck tonight. He hates his time being wasted the most, and his eyes slid over to his friend’s still posture, looking like he just saw a ghost.

“Suguru,” he sighs through his mouth, “Don’t be so tense. This is a formal event – no blood will be shed tonight.” Suguru had a weird skill of being able to read Satoru’s thoughts that he raised his hands in surrender, silently promising that he’s not going to kill anyone.

“You’re not sure of that.”

“I won’t lose my composure, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he rolls his eyes, not looking back as he effortlessly places the empty glass back to another waiter. Satoru stands next to his friend, sucking his teeth out of boredom. Suguru, on the other hand, is tenser than ever, his eyes locked onto something in the middle of the crowd that began to cheer.

Faintly, somewhere at the back of his mind, Satoru hears someone whistle in signal. A few seconds later, the fireworks are lit and decorate the night sky, bursts of gold and beauty accompanying the entrance of the woman who’s so effortlessly caught everyone’s eye tonight.

Satoru is rooted to his spot, taking off his glasses the same time the crowd parts. Then, his breath is knocked away from his body, his heart pumping so hard he actually struggled to breathe.

Because you’re there, smiling and waving at the crowd as if it’s second nature to you. Seven years of being apart from one another and Satoru is still bewitched each time he lays his eyes on you. You’re the same…from your face down to the angelic feeling you always carried, but at the same time, you’re different. Gone was his precious angel who shied away from too much attention, his precious angel who would’ve never worn such a bodacious ring embedded on her left ring finger. Your smile is more charismatic, confident, and even fierce compared to the small, private ones you always shared with him – he almost couldn’t recognize you.

As if feeling someone’s eyes on you, you spot him leaning languidly against the walls, those lips you used to kiss turned downwards.

Seven years ago, you would’ve kissed him until he smiles again, singing to your pouty and clingy boyfriend who never voiced out the reason of his troubles. Seven years ago, he would’ve carried you and swung you around, showering you with affection as he reminds you how lucky he is to have you.

But this was no longer the past – that much is clear from when he left you without another word.

Still, you smile at him, an empty one that showed nothing but concealed anger. He was sure though, so fucking sure, that for a split second, he saw you light up. That may have been seven years ago, but you loved each other to the point of insanity – surely you still held some sort of fondness of him.

Satoru takes long, self-assured stride towards you, his gaze never leaving yours with his hands tucked into his pockets. There’s no telling what he’ll do, but in his mind, it’s clear.

You still love him, he still loves you. He’ll do something about it. It doesn’t matter what, he just will. That was until a young man closer to your age with blond hair and pierced earrings, narrow feline eyes lined with eyeliner hobbles beside you, his weight supported by a cane that Satoru stops in his movements.

He’d recognize that face anywhere.

The youngest and perhaps most mischievous leader of them all, Naoya Zen’in. Albeit not as hard-headed as his father in comparison with his rather laid-back and welcoming nature, Satoru knows a monster when he sees it. It takes one to know one, after all, and despite the heir being crippled from a former accident, his intelligence and power was not to be overlooked through his appearance and coy smiles.

In fact, he might even be more dangerous than his old man, this theory only proven when his arms snake around your waist. The matching rings gleam from under the light, and you press yourself closer to him to whisper in his ear, your attention very much still on Satoru.

Satoru’s entire body burns.

“Still there, Sir?” Suguru asks, gripping his boss’ bicep to hold him back. Smart of him, Satoru exhales through his nose, unable to stop his glare from darting to your husband’s.

He’s heard of you, of him, of how his most annoying rival had a phenomenal trophy wife who looked harmless at first look, but was actually the brains of most of his operations. Satoru forgets how to breathe normally because he’s heard of you, and the rumors he’s gotten wind of about Naoya’s trophy wife are nothing less of how dedicated and perfect the two of you are.

Slapping Suguru’s arm away from him, Satoru grits his teeth. “Get me a drink.”

His precious angel was gone. No, this woman that stood before him…you were an entirely different entity, something darker, something along the lines that were more like him.

What exactly happened the day he left you?

taglist: @ladywaifuuwrites​ @savantsoulfinder​ @my-reality-is-in-my-head​ tagging the ones who asked for part 2, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[angsty-omi]

you get jealous of their manager

suna rintarou; sakusa kiyoomi

angst to fluff, hurt/comfort.

suna rintarou

when rin told you about the new manager, you didn’t expect her to be blonde, curvy, and absolutely gorgeous. honestly, just looking at her made you insecure. the way all the boys gawked at her everytime she walked by. you didn’t care about the boys though, you only cared about a boy, your boyfriend rin. she’s with him longer than he’s with you. practices take up most of his day, so you only saw him once he got to your shared apartment where he was too tired to do anything that exterted energy. to be fair, you were fine just staying in, but imagining him with her during practices made you uncomfortable.

it was even worse when he’d go out to dinner with the team and her. you couldn’t remember the last time he’d even ask you on a date. you hated the way he stopped trying once you started dating. starting to reach the AMs when you called him.

“y/n?” his slurred tone showed that he was drunk.

“suna? where are you? it’s almost 12 am.” you scolded. how could you not? he’s drunk and with a girl that you were very envious of.

“first of all, can you chill? i literally told you that i’d be out with the boys, i don’t understand why you’re getting so upset,”

“upset? you’re literally out with a girl who’s very attarctive” you frustrated.

“oh i see what this is now, you’re jealous and you don’t trust me.”

“it’s not a matter of trust, it’s just i fe-feel uncomfortable and i oh i don’t know wanted to talk about it?” you started to raise your voice. the attempt to set a boundary has failed, and rather was replaced with you being the enemy.

“she’s my friend y/n, get over it because you’ll be seeing a lot more of her,” rin hissed.

“i’m not telling you who you can be friends with or not, but you have to understand where i’m coming from” you murmured.

“just leave me alone, i can be friends with whoever i want, and the last thing i’m going to do is let a bitch dictate that.” suna argued loudly.

it was followed up by silence, with a girl voice cutting in, “rin-rin let’s do this song together!” in a high pitch squeal caught the mic.

“oh so you’re rin rin now huh? i can’t be surprised considering how much time you spend with her!”

“well maybe i like hanging out with her. did you ever think of that y/n? it’s nice to have someone who wouldn’t nag or bitch about me, she doesn’t pry for me to open up,” he attempted to justify his actions.

“okay fine then, if she’s soooo perfect than just date her” words just started spilling out of your brain, and it was too late to take it back.

“maybe i will!” he roared. after he sunk in what he was saying, he followed up with “w-wait i didn’t mea-” trying to save his relationship.

“do whatever you want suna, whether you’re with her or not it’s not my problem anymore, i’m done.” you ended the call, tears freely flowing down your face.

you couldn’t sleep that night. pathetically, you’d hope that suna would at least give you a call back, or any sign that he still cared for you. but he didn’t, and you assumed that was your answer. you would reevaluate the relationship after a good nights sleep on the couch. you couldn’t sleep on the bed due to suna’s lingering scent.

when 4am rolled around, the door opened as quietly as possible. suna assumed that you were asleep in bed, and was prepared to join you. when he walked in the bedroom and saw the bed still made, he panicked. did you really leave? were you actually done with the relationship? he checked everywhere, the bathroom, kitchen, the basement, and not the most obvious place ever. he dialed your phone, and heard loud ringing from the living room. he slapped his forehead in stupidity and made his way over to you. his heart broke at the sight. the way you tried to fit your body with the throw blanket, unaware that you were shivering at the cold. your face was also pale, with dried tears on them. you looked so broken and so drained. immediately, suna carried you off the couch bridal style, and tucked you into the soft king sized bed. he then, moved onto his side and slid under the sheets. it’s only when he grabs your waist is when he feels safe enough to sleep.

five hours later, you awake with dried tears still in your eyes. you wiped them with your arm, and felt weight around your waist. once your eyes were cleared, it was suna. you let yourself comfort in his warmth for just a bit more, knowing that there’s a huge argument to come.

“suna we can’t just not talk about this,” you whispered into his ear, knowing he was awake. he hid in the crook of your neck, “i’m sorry. i’m so so sorry, please take me back.”

“i can’t just accept your apology blindly, we have to set boundaries or else we’ll never move forward.” you sighed while tracing circles on his bare chest.

“i’ll never even look at her again,” his face deadpanned. your laugh vibrated against his chest, “that’s not needed, it’s not really her fault anyways. how about, we spend more time on dates and devote days for each other?”

“anything, princess.”

sakusa kiyoomi

sakusa hated physical touch, the spread of germs with a single handshake grossed him out. that’s why he built a cold exterior to prevent many from getting close. however, when he met you, you happened to be the exception and you took pride in the fact that he was only comfortable with you. he’ll never admit it to you though, and claims he only ‘endures’ your hugs. although, you knew your limit, you would never show affection in front of people. if there’s one thing sakusa hates, it’s PDA.

so you couldn’t really blame the new cute manager for flirting with him, because it seemed like he was single. listen, you trusted sakusa with your whole heart, but you just wanted to see how he would react with a girl flirting with him.

you hid behind the door, eavesdropping behind the door.

“sakusa-senpai, can you please help me up?” the cute manger whined.

“can you not get up yourself?” sakusa groaned.

“no i think i twisted something,” as a girl, you knew exactly what she was doing and her execution was poor. you rolled your eyes, assuming sakusa too would know what she was doing.

but he didn’t.

“thank you, sakusa-senpai!” she squealed, and then what you can assume, she hugged him. because then it caught him by suprise, and they both fell together, with her on top of him. you didn’t hear him scolding her, rather he was laughing. he was happy with her presence when he wouldn’t even physically show it with you. you decided to just walk in and stop this.

amidst of their laughter, both heads looked up at you. “sakusa, don’t you have to get home soon?” with an eyebrow raised.

“uh actually sakusa-senpai it’s getting dark, mind if you could walk me home?” she babbled.

“fine, y/n you can walk yourself right?” he said casually, while packing up his things.

“y-yeah i guess” you stammered.

on your walk home, you were reevaluating what just happened. no longer did you feel special anymore. your brain started to overthink itself, why did they look better as a couple? and why was he so relaxed around her? was i just not the right person? has he found his true love? all these scenarios made you start to tear up. you were in love with the germaphobic man, for god sakes.

when you got the shared apartment, you immediately took a shower, knowing that sakusa was going to nag you anyways when you got home.

then, you started on dinner and chopping up some vegetables when you heard the door open. he nodded at you, acknowledging your presence and was waiting for the hug you gave him everytime he came home. but you didn’t, and he awkwardly just stood there for good minute or two. to your suprise, he was the first one to make the move. he wrapped his arms behind you and resting his head on your neck. immediately, you shrugged him off.

he furrowed his eyebrows, “is there something wrong?”

“i don’t know, is there something wrong?” you repeated his question.

“i wouldn’t know, that’s why i asked.” he bellowed.

you put the knife down and faced him, “you know i love the double standard of how i have to shower before i get to touch you, but that whore gets to touch you whenever,” you ranted.

“our new manager? you can’t be serious. we fell, it was an accident.”

“maybe you thought it was, but i know what she was doing because i, too am a girl. if you guys just ‘fell’ why did it take so long for you to get back up? why’d you let her touch you for so long?” you questioned.

“i wasn’t thinking about it, not everything i do in life is rotated around germs-”

“except when it’s with me” your voice cracked. “right? it’s when it’s with me, that must be it. that’s why you never show any affection, but it’s okay for you because you’ve gotten tons from me and her!” you raved.

he tried to wrap his around you, but you moved out the way.

“don’t touch me with that whore’s filth,” you muttered, turning off the burner and stomped to your shared bedroom, slamming the door. your insecurities were roaring on the inside. sakusa chose to sleep on the couch, thinking you needed space. but, that was the least thing you wanted. you wanted him to beg, or to at least apologize.

over the following days, you didn’t wait for him outside of practice. in fact, the only time he saw you was in the morning before classes and at night when you left leftovers for him in the kitchen. after the argument, he pushed everyone away, especially with the new manager. he only wanted one person’s touch, yours. and to achieve that, he had to put in some effort. that night when he got home, he went straight to the shower. you assumed it was just a normal silent treatment day, so you went to bed scrolling.

you felt the weight on the other side of the bed. knowing who it was, you continued to aimlessly scroll on tiktok. sakusa abruptly grabbed your waist and coddled you, drowning you in pecks all around your face.

“mh.. sakus.. sa.. mh..” continuously getting cut off with his cute pecks on your lips. you decided to let go of the whole manager situation, and let yourself to just be happy. you wrapped your arms around his neck and put him even closer to you. he then pulled away and you dramatically groaned.

putting his face close to yours, “i love you y/n l/n.” before continuing.

a/n: if you like this series please request some characters you’d like to see!

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six  

=================================

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her. 

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

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

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. 

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open.  But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

=============================

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Part 8

[dodo-begone]

The Mistake has Arrived

Pairing: Yan!DSMP!Techno, Yan!Ranbob!, Yan!Ranbutler x Reader

Request: Do you do continuations? If so could you make a part 2 with for the "mistakes were made" (aka the pregnancy one)? Like how they would act when the child is like actually born and causing mischief?? Please and thank you!

Summary: It seems that, after the baby arrives, things seem to change. It's hard to describe because things didn't change much yet at the same time managed to be the complete opposite of what they were before. Or maybe you hadn't noticed these things before. Who knows.

Word count: 2.1k

Warning: yandere, nsfw joke at the end of Ranbob’s section

Part 1 | Mistakes were Made

If this ever looks wonky/glitched, I have this properly archived on Ao3

A/n: the first part was implied AFAB reader because of pregnancy- and it probably still is but pregnancy is barely mentioned in this.

Techno

So remember when this man was absolutely terrified for you and the baby? Yeah that doesn’t get alleviated. If anything, that fear gets worse.

You holding the child, the perfect combination of you two, makes him truly realize how fragile the baby is. Like hello? This thing is his? And so tiny? Like a potato, a large one at that but still a potato?

Potatoes are fragile. Babies are fragile. Baby is like a potato, which makes them ultra fragile- oh NO.

Let’s get this straight; Techno is the infamous blood god. This huge hulking piglin hybrid who can easily kill anyone in arm’s reach. And then you got this tiny defenceless baby that is related to him? Like he knows how this thing works but it just feels surreal.

This anxiety feeds his distaste for holding his own child. He’s a monster and that’s a sweet innocent baby. He is going to severely harm the baby by even holding it. You never know what could happen- plus you need some mother-child bonding. It’s very important. Yes you may have been carrying that baby for 9 months but some more physical touch goes a long way. It grounds it more into reality for you. Yeah, that’s totally the reason.

The behavior can only last so long though. Eventually Techno would have to bond with his kid, hold his kid. You were getting fed up with how long he was taking. His anxiety over the situation was obvious and you were giving him space. So you did, but it’s been months and he still refuses to even touch them. His avoidance is annoying and it has to come to an end. And you will make sure it will.

One day, while he was relaxing and reading, you gently plop the baby onto Techno and go do some household chores that are usually hard when you have to keep an eye and ear out for the kid at every second.

Techno and the kid have a shared moment of “wtf” because the baby saw this thing before but he never touched it before. And they were left on it? By mother? Techno is internally freaking out while this baby tries to crawl on him. Really they’re just pulling at his hair and clothing. Anything they can get their grubby little hands onto. And gum on whatever they can get into their mouth. Oh god, this is going to be a long… period of time. He doesn’t really know when you’ll come back for them but he hopes it’s soon.

It’s safe to say that you did not come to Techno’s rescue in a swift manner. You made sure to take your time doing everything that couldn’t be properly done. Like cleaning or cooking a proper meal. Cooking had been left up to Techno mostly, and you really appreciated that he took that up and made good food but someone can only handle potato based dishes for so long. It was about time that something else was made. The potatoes needed a break.

When you come back to Techno and the baby, you’re so pleased to see that they’re having a little bonding moment. The baby was calm and Techno was finally relaxed in what felt like a century. Everything was perfect.

Techno was reading Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and your sweet baby child had long dozed off in his arms. Techno either didn’t notice or didn’t care and kept reading aloud, though it was mostly likely that he wanted to start education young. Even in their sleep. He started the education process already, in a way, by reading The Art of War to your pregnant stomach for months on end. You’d long grown tired of it, but the sight and sound of Techno reading still warmed your heart.

Ranbob

Nothing changes on his knowledge of babies. Not much, anyways. Some of the information he knows on babies came directly from you. The rest came from books found around Mizu.

In theory, he knows what to do. He read up on everything he’d need to know, after all. But in practice, it’s a whole different story. Anxiety occasionally comes to haunt him but he easily waves it off. He knows what he’s doing.

When Mizu was still populated, he observed the lives of others. There wasn’t much to do besides that. Children weren’t an uncommon sight. But babies? Now that wasn’t a common sight. Not many people brought their babies out. Nor were there many.

It’s understandable for him to not know exactly how to raise a baby. Unless you raised or helped to raise a baby, you aren’t exactly well versed in baby and are therefore slightly unprepared for said baby.

Though compared to children, he’s actually more prepared to care for the baby since there were so many books about baby care and stuff they’d need. Children are a whole different beast.

With children, it’s a more individual case-to-case deal. There aren’t any parenting guides on children. Well, there are. Though they all differ from each other. Each book has its own descriptions on why a behavior is happening and how to handle or fix it. So many differing opinions that overlapped were overwhelming. Ranbob soon came to the conclusion that childcare is more interpretive. Based on the child’s personality.

That’s way in the future though. Now he has to deal with a baby. A fragile little thing. It’s perfect in every way.

Now his anxiety starts to get the better of him. He’s so much bigger than it, much stronger. The baby is completely at his mercy and he is anxious that something bad may happen to it. Realistically, though, nothing bad is going to happen to his little family.

Once he holds the baby for the first time, all previous anxiety is taken by the wind. All that remains is absolute adoration. This leads to him caring for the baby almost entirely. Or when it’s least convenient for you, that is.

Like when your babe cries late into the night. Witching hour cries. Everytime without fail, he’d awaken and swiftly make his way to the nursery. All in an attempt to allow you to sleep. You’ve already done so much work to make the child. The least he could do was wake up and care for them. Plus you still looked so tired.

Although Ranbob was tired when morning came, it didn’t matter when you came out well rested. Or much better than the day before. Each day was a slight victory in his books. He only wanted the best for you, anyways. If sacrificing a few hours of sleep meant that you’d sleep better, then so be it.

He views your child as a blessing from Dream himself. A symbol of the union between you two. Just absolute perfection. Oh how lucky he is to have you and especially fortunate to have a child with you. His god has seen his hard work and has gifted him with so much more than he deserved. But he’d take it all the same.

If you two “accidently” had another kid, he’d be more than happy. Yes, he’s content and happy with the child you two already have. His life is perfect now. But if another addition just happened to come along? Well who is he to deny his god’s will?

aka he wants to weaken his pullout game to have another kid with you. One kid is enough but two? Oh that’d be swell!

Ranbutler

Compared to the previous two, Ranbutler’s reaction to the baby’s arrival would be labeled as “different”. Techno feared for his child, Ranbob was anxious, but Ranbutler? This man is ecstatic! Oh my gosh you two finally have a kid. Isn’t this just great?

His excitement level is astronomical. Come on, this man literally acts like this baby is going to achieve world wide peace or something. Like Jesus Christ incarnated. That’s the level of excitement he’s at.

Right from the get-go, Ranbutler is almost desperate in his attempts to hold the baby. Please? Pretty please? Why can’t he hold your baby? Our baby? Though as… desperate as he is to hold his child, he doesn’t want to disturb important mother-child bonding. Even if you carried them for around nine months, it’s still vital that you actually bond to your baby. Skin-to-skin early on is important.

At the next available time, most likely when you’re asleep or on the verge of sleeping, he’ll gently remove the child from atop your chest. Of course he’d go to the next comfiest and secure place he can and allow for some skin-to-skin between him and the baby.

According to some studies, skin contact with a baby supposedly “awakens” maternal or paternal and he was more than happy to test that out. If it worked? Then that’s great! If it didn’t work? What was the harm? It’s all good in the end.

Because of the nature of his job, you often don’t see him during the day. Both a blessing and a curse. This leaves you alone to care for the baby until he comes back. Even then, it wasn’t a guarantee that he’d help. That’s what you thought, at least.

No matter how exhausted he was or how irate he was from Billiam, the sight of your and the baby always made everything right in the world. All problems just dissolved away, becoming unimportant whispers of responsibilities.

Responsibilities that seemed to come from a whole different reality. Here, at home, the mess that’s Billiam doesn’t exist. Won’t ever affect his lovely little world.

Sometimes he comes home extremely late. So late that you already went to sleep, along with the baby. Occasionally you would try to stay up for him to come home. You were laying on the couch with the baby on your chest, what else was he to presume? That was obviously what you were doing, right?

On those nights, he would sit by you and just watch. Basking in the calm energy you exude. Even without talking to him, you always had a way of calming him down. Of making him feel loved and appreciated.

He would also take care of the baby's needs at night. With his occupation as Billiam’s servant, it really wasn’t the best idea, but he assured you that he would be fine. After all, he couldn’t bond with the baby during the day, so that only left the night. Even if it was menial tasks, he found solace in the presence of the family he was creating,

A question that kept reappearing was how he managed to get such a wonderful partner. One so willing to have a child with him. Deep down, he knew the actual answer, but it was hidden under so many layers of delusions that it’d be better and easier not to deal with that mess.

Now that you had the baby to care for, he was much more willing to leave you alone while he went to work. Yes, sometimes he still brought you into the room with The Egg. But that was only because you seemed stressed the day, night, or morning before he left.

How could he just leave his precious to flounder around so helplessly? A baby can easily be overwhelming. The Egg was more than willing to help you.

The kid, although a beautiful culmination of the love between the two of you, also symbolized another thing. They were a shackle, keeping you tethered to him.

There was no way you’d be able or wish to escape in such a fragile condition. Especially with the baby. How could you risk the life of something so innocent? Of something that did absolutely nothing wrong besides existing. You wouldn’t be such a horrible monster, would you? No, he knows you. Knows that you wouldn’t do that.

Once he has a taste for parenthood, he’s practically addicted. He absolutely loves it. Loves you. Why not have another? And another? And another?

Let’s be honest, he might just want a small herd of kids. Not many, like four or five. A few more wouldn’t do too much harm, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. After all, you’d be around them the most, being the primary caretaker for them all.

The desire for a large family comes into direct conflict with his desire to not make you overwhelmed and overworked. It was a hard battle, but he convinced himself that maybe just one more wouldn’t hurt. Just one more, and that’ll be the last he’ll want.

He’ll say that for the next three he plans to have with you. Can men get baby fever? If they can, then this man definitely would have it, just saying.

[peachy-hk]

hello hello let me send an angst req real quick. arranged marriage w sakusa (or akaashi or ushijima, u choose if u dont write for the other ones) where the reader was in love w him and he hates the idea of the marriage so always leashes out on their s/o and by the time he realized that he loves them too etc its too late. or just do wtv u want i need sumn arranged marriage angst rn. like yk extremely angst - 🐰

OH MY GOD??? Pls this request itself made me sad kdjsksks. Forgive me if I don’t do it justice but just know your request is a work of art 🥴🥴 and also?? did I just get my first anon????? AH???? 🐰 anon will forever be engraved in my brain kjsdhkfjk

anymore.- Sakusa Kiyoomi X Reader

in which your husband to be doesn’t realize he loves you until after you’re gone.

Warnings: Fem reader! Cursing. (Reader x Osamu near the end). Manga spoilers! (Sakusa, Osamu, and Atsumu.)

Word Count: 1.4K

Sakusa Kiyoomi had never really put thought into getting married. To him, marriage was something he would probably never do. Not because he hated the idea of it, but because he never thought he’d find the right person to settle down with. Chances were he was never going to get married. He knew that, his parents knew that, hell even his friends knew that. So why was he sitting across from you, in a room with both of your parents, being told that the two of you would be getting married? He didn’t know. 

In all honesty, Kiyoomi had already planned his life out. Getting married to you was not part of that plan. You were just an obstacle in his life plan. A nail when all he had was a screwdriver. He didn’t hate you. To be honest he didn’t even think you were a bad person. But every time he saw you, he was reminded of the fact that he would have to get married to you. The fact that he’d have to settle down and start a family. All of it angered him. Even though he didn’t hate you as a person, he hated that you would get in the way of his future career in volleyball.  

You weren’t marrying him for the money. Your family lived a comfortable life, not extremely rich but not dirt poor either. The reason you were getting married to him was to make both of your parents happy.

You had quickly come to love the curly black haired man. The way he showed such love and dedication for volleyball. How he had his morals and stuck by them. The way he smiled when talking to his teammates (a rare but beautiful sight). All of these things you had managed to pick up by going to a couple of his games. Other things like how he acted around the people he loved, or his cute habits were things you learned from tea afternoons with his mother. You knew he didn’t like you, but you had hoped that he would grow to love you eventually. 

Waiting for him to love you was painful of course. Skipped dinners, dates that he didn’t show up to, nights where he didn’t even come home to the shared house the two of you had moved into. You slept in different rooms, but it hurt to know he was out somewhere and preferred being there than in the same house as you. Then again, it wasn’t like he would talk to you even if he was home. If you had tried to start any type of conversation with him, it would be dry and short. If you kept pushing for a conversation, it would become an argument.

“Why don’t you ever want to talk to me?”

“Why don’t I talk to you?” He spoke sharply, the tone of his voice was harsh and cold. “I don’t talk to you because you’ve basically ruined my life.  All you’ve done since I met you was side track my life. You're useless. I have no reason to get married to you. You don’t help me achieve anything, hell you don’t even support my volleyball career. All you do is ask me stupid questions because you want to talk. TAKE A HINT GOD DAMNIT, HOW FUCKING STUPID ARE YOU?” 

Every fight was the same. It was always “you’re useless”, “you don’t support me.” and “you ruined my life” along with lots of cuss words thrown in the mix. You had gotten used to the arguments. Was arguments even the right word? It was one sided, the constant throwing of insults and harsh words at you, but they were never returned to him. You didn’t have the heart to speak to him like that. You loved him after all.

“I’m calling off the wedding.” You say to him. The two of you are sitting across from each other in the dining room of your rather luxurious house. “What?” He says. Finally looking you in the eyes for the first time in weeks. He sets his tall glass of water on the table, waiting for you to say more. “I’m calling off the wedding.” You say again. You don’t understand the look of confusion on his face, he’s the one that wants this way more than you do. “I’ve spoken to both our parents on our behalf, I told them things weren’t working, they are not pleased, but they understand our decision.” 

“Our decision?”

“Yes Sakusa. Our decision.”

“I supported you and your volleyball career. I chose to love you even when you didn’t love me back. I chose to put up with your childish tantrums because you were mad. And about what? The fact that your parents want you to settle down? The fact that your parents wanted you to have somebody to carry out your volleyball legacy? All you’ve done is push me away. I’m done putting up with your bullshit Kiyoomi.”

It had been three months since you had called off your engagement with Kiyoomi. The first few weeks after it was hell for the two of you. You had gone back and forth from regretting your decision to being glad that you had done it. 

Your relationship with Kiyoomi was horrible. It was bad for me and my mental health. I don’t need him. I’m better off alone. 

but he wasn’t. 

After you left him he started thinking about you. It didn’t make sense to him, the marriage was arranged so how could you just call it off like it was nothing?? How could you spend months trying to get to know him, trying to get him to have the slightest liking in you, to just toss him like a piece of garbage? 

he didn’t understand.

He began to miss the way you would sing in you shower. He wondered if you knew he could hear you, but he never cared to bring it up. He opted to listen to the melodies you’d sing, never getting through a full song before starting to sing a new one. 

When he’d wake up in the morning, he’d be reminded of you. The lack of breakfast in the kitchen, the wilting or already dead flowers in the hallway. He didn’t have the heart to throw the flowers away, remembering how you had rambled to yourself about how they were your favourite when you thought he wasn’t listening. Everything reminded him of you. And yet, he still didn’t know why. 

He was the one that was constantly yelling at you. He was the one that didn’t want to get married to you. He was the one that saw you as an obstacle, one to over come instead of embracing. He was the one who pushed you away, when all you wanted was to get closer to him. 

And he was the one that missed you.  

5 months after you left Kiyoomi, he finds out you’re getting married to a certain silver haired twin from a certain blonde haired twin. According to Atsumu, you and Osamu had been friends for years. Atsumu had mentioned that you were often helping at Onigiri Miya when Osamu needed more people to work. 

He feels conflicted. 

He knows that life isn’t like a romance story. He knows that showing up at your wedding and telling you to marry him instead won’t work. He knew that if he ran into you in the middle of the street you wouldn’t go for coffee with him. Nothing works like that. And yet, he still wants to try.

Life doesn’t work like that. 

There he sits in a black three piece suit, siping on the champaign that was poured for the MSBY table minutes earlier. Tonight is a night of celebration. A night where everyone is supposed to be happy for the bride and groom. 

But all he feels is regret. 

He should be the one dancing with you in the middle of the venue. He should have been the one to put the ring on your finger. The one you say “I do” to, the one the your vows are for. But he isn’t. 

He drowns away his feelings in alcohol. He hopes that he’ll wake up and it’ll all be a nightmare. That he’ll wake up to the smell of you making breakfast and fresh flowers in the vases in the house. He wants you to ask him how his day was. He wants to hear the way “Kiyoomi” rolls off your tongue one last time. But he won’t. 

You’re not his anymore. 

[butterbeerblurbs]

boyfriend boost (f.w.)

💌: meet your biggest hype man (and boyfriend), fred weasley. 📝: word count: 3,128 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸fluffflufffluff 💬: tell me i’m wrong that fred would not be your biggest hype man. i’m wAITING [also this was very self-indulgent so let me bask in this thankuloveububs]

there was nothing, and nothing subtle about fred weasley. if there were two boxes, one being the tamest option there is and the other being the grandest of the grand, oh, wonder where fred weasley would’ve been put into? you guessed it right, folks, the grandest of them all. don’t get it twisted, though. when he’s being all that grand, it was more in the form of how he showed his appreciation for you rather than himself. he was confident with his successes and strengths, sure, but he was rather humble about it. he’d rather hear it come from others than himself.

but when it involves you? oh, subtleties be damned.

fred weasley was y/n y/l/n’s number one cheerleader and hype man combined, no less. a hundred and ten million percent always willing to back you up and will throw hands if anyone dared to lay a finger on you (not that he didn’t think you couldn’t fend for yourself - he believes in you - but he’d rather much take up on the fight because his anger would fuel him faster than you could hold him back). he’d gladly holler through the bleachers of how gorgeous you were, even if it meant he’d get into trouble (he has). a surge of pride would go through his veins as he cheers for how you’ve managed to achieve good grades (and comfort you when you don’t). he’ll yell at the top of his lungs that he’s the luckiest man alive to be dating you when his team wins a match of quidditch and you’d hear your name echoing across the pitch area - along with the whole bloody castle (which, he also has).  

although you could do without his continuous yelling because one day, that man will lose his voice, you have to admit that you love it. how unafraid he was being with you. how proud he was with every single one of your achievements and celebrated yours like it was his. he has his loud moments, but his quiet ones are the ones you equally loved as well. how gentle he was whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on or how he’d resort to using his body to cocoon you in from the world. or how he’d fetch you the things you craved for just to make sure he’d see a small smile on your face. on top of it all, his company and his presence; willing to make himself known with a hand in yours as you bundled up in the sheets together. 

there was no other man like fred weasley and you were well-aware of it; more so when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person that mattered in this world, and... letting you go to sit down beside him as if he hadn’t snogged you in front of all of your friends.

he mutters a soft: “you’re welcome for the show there, fellas!” and they groan in response, waving him off as they dig into breakfast. oliver even going as far as to toss a napkin to fred’s face who only snickers in response. it seems like they’ve grown numb to fred’s never-ending affections towards you and for someone rather reserved, they’re always questioning how you were so calm in the midst of fred’s hurricane of affections. you fondly brush his hair back and chuckle as he leans in for a small peck on your lips, along with kissing the side of your head after and he settles down for breakfast. as he does, he adores how you still blush after being kissed by him yet try to pretend like it doesn’t affect you. he knows because you hit the side of his thigh under the table and he catches your hand, holding onto it and winking at you before starting to eat.

fred was generally a romantic person to begin with; and he showed that off pretty much in public, in private, whenever he could. it felt like the chase was never over. it was far from it. it’s been quite some time since you agreed to date him and it was one of your best choices yet. two years and still going strong, it feels like there’s more to fred weasley to love day by day. the new things you learnt about him made you love him more. and any disagreements that came your way, resolved together felt like levelling up in life and in relationship through growth and communication. it felt like two pieces of a puzzle coming together, finally completing each other.

it was the same for said boy, too. (but we’ll save that for another time, let’s focus on you this time around)

at any moment, he’d find an opportunity to make you feel like you’re the luckiest person alive. and when that feeling subsides, he does it all over again, even at times he didn’t appear to be trying. oftentimes, his glances, the way he cares for you, the little things he notices; those were everything to you. how he has a hand on your lower back as you walked, or how he’d pull the chair open for you or snatching your books away as he accompanied you to your next class. fred was a touchy person, more so when it involved you - he can’t take his hands off you. and when he can’t find the words, or show you the way he feels... well... there’s one answer to that.

a bang. 

surely, that’s one of the things that led up to his reputation - and that’s exactly how he plans to show you. he squeezes your hand and you slow down on your chewing to gaze at him in the middle of katie’s little ramble to the whole gang. you swallow down the food in your mouth and he points to under the table, where you reach for the note he’s placed between the pair of you. he then leans in to whisper into your ear, “read it later during herbology,” and you nod silently, easily slotting it into your pocket and return to listening to katie’s story.

though on the outside you seem to have it together, deep down, your heart was racing at the thought of what it could be. fred was never one to be on the down-low with his advances, and it only got progressively more and more daring in public when the pair of you got together. you try not to press too much on it for now, enjoying fred’s fingers between your own beneath the table and basking in the tranquil of the morning shared with your friends.

//

although you had been rather good at keeping your facade up for the whole day, you had to admit, you were curious what was up fred weasley’s sleeves. the boy was super excited as well and you could tell. throughout the class today, he still wouldn’t let slip to what he has planned. not even george would tell you when you tried to prod for more information; swiftly directing you away from the topic (and back to your seat). it only affirms your suspicions that george is in on it too...

angelina notices your furrowed brows towards the end of class, poking your arm with a grin, “what’s going on in that head of yours, y/l/n?”

you pout as you reach for the piece of parchment fred had slipped into your hands earlier, now passing it for her to scan through the words.

“weasley’s handwriting is ghastly,” she comments, and you laugh quietly but still flick her forehead, “alright, alright, sorry mrs. weasley,” she giggles in response, but upon reading the note properly, she sighs, “well, guess it’s another one of his grand scenes again, isn’t it?”

the note reaches back to you and you frown at the words you’ve deciphered earlier:

love, after dinner come out to the courtyard. got a little surprise for you ;)

- your favorite ginger, freddie

“he better not,” you mumble under your breath, recollecting how he pulled a stunt during valentine’s day that even got you in trouble. you’ll admit, your heart swooned at the sight of him bursting heart balloons and making it rain chocolate but it just so happened a balloon exploded in front of professor snape’s face. even when fred pleaded for you not to get involved, snape... wouldn’t be snape if he had listened and granted all of you detention for two weeks. not only that, he was a little bit harsher on fred soon after, which only made you somewhat sad. fred could handle it, of course he could, but it doesn’t make you feel better knowing this situation happened because he absolute adores surprising you like this.

you look over your shoulder to see fred chatting with george animatedly past the plants. it seems like your stare can travel past the air when fred takes his turn to listen to george speak, ever so casually gazing your way as well. he stops george mid-sentence, the weasley twins now looking at you and you lift up the piece of paper, shaking your head with a small frown, to which they easily translate to: please don’t do it.

george chuckles and shakes his head, the same time fred lifts a finger up and wiggles it disapprovingly, to which you translate to: not a chance, love.

well, so be it then. if fred is aiming to be the first person to get expelled for professing his love then... oh god, please don’t get expelled.

//

your stomach is turning upside down the moment you’re done with dinner. the great hall is still filled with people, but it starts to disperse when students get up to leave. your heart drops when you already see fred and george gone, gaping at the sudden lost of the ginger haired boys - how could you have let them slip?!

you rise up to your feet and nudge angelina to follow suit. she links arms with you as you make your way to the courtyard, and she can tell you’re nervous mainly for fred’s wellbeing. she finds it adorable, but you’re a mess inside. of course you appreciated fred’s gestures and his way of showing he loves you, but you’d rather him do it in a way that doesn’t jeopardise his studies... which... you somewhat understand he’d rather much risk it all.

it was simply in fred weasley’s blood. apparently george’s as well when the moment you reach the courtyard, you’re gaping at the pair of them on their broomsticks, as if they had been swirling around to wait for your arrival. it amazes you how they haven’t got caught yet. now that they deserve an award for.

your jaw drops, anxiety fills your bones and you frantically look around in hopes you don’t spot a professor in sight. lee’s voice fills the courtyard as he hollers to the twins above, “y/n y/l/n is in sight!”

“let em’ rip, freddie!”

“when you do, georgie!”

“what the bloody-!” your voice gets cut off when the pair of them swing whatever it is in their hands up into the air, erupting explosions of fireworks out on display. cheers can be heard from the people who have gathered to watch, some from the sidelines, some from past the gaps of the corridors but you... out here in the open as the sparks of blue, red, and yellow intertwined up to paint the night sky. midnight blue, spread across with glitters of white all dancing along in the air and it keeps going.

the shapes morph from hearts, to stars, and you swear you see your initials being spelled out like constellations. your breath starts to quicken at the sight and angelina rubs your arm soothingly to calm you down, but she can already see the glow in your eyes in admiration to fred’s stunt. of course, she chuckles, and you take a side glance to her and playfully nudge her by bumping your shoulder to hers.

“and you wonder why fred does it? when you’re looking at the surprise like that?” she muses, and you shake your head, eyes gazing back up to the sight and your heart is full. “he’s gone mad,” you snort, but angelina knows your true feelings when you squeeze her arm, the firework of hearts now embedded in your eyes instead. 

more people start to gather around and it’s only a matter of time before you’d all get into trouble. but when you look up and manage to lock eyes with fred who looks like he’ll gladly even steal the moon for you if that’s what you wanted, your heart rests easy. we’ll go down together, then.

before you can hold eye contact with the ginger haired boy and express your gratitude, a bunch of girls on the side nudge you for your attention. you turn over to them, along with angelina who raises a brow.

“where on earth did you get him from?” one of them asks, and you didn’t know if they were being serious or not. yet, their tone really sounds like they’re genuinely curious. it makes angelina laugh, already looking away to continue watching the fireworks and you shrug, shaking your head, “honestly, i have no idea,”

“you’re one bloody lucky girl, y/n,”

“yeah,” you breathed, watching how wide fred smiles at you like you are the world and truly, you were. but fred was the same, if not more to you, too. literal stars in his eyes as he continues to fly around in the air, his movements somewhat coordinated with the on-going fireworks. your eyes are locked on him the whole time, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from grinning too hard. when he slows down on his broom and sways down to you, his eyes remain on you as you release the bite from your lip, smiling face to face at fred,  “i am.”

((”freddie!” you manage to leap into his arms and he catches you, always does. he chuckles when you squeeze him tight around his neck and he’s taking advantage of his grip on you to tug you to the side so at least, you two would somehow have a moment together in decent privacy. he kisses the side of your head, arms wrapping around you to give you a squeeze back. he grins at you when you pull back, one of his hands reaching up to push your hair from your face, “hello there, gorgeous,” his hand then goes back to your waist, now swaying the pair of you idly in the midst of loud chatter of the people around you but somehow, fred only sees you. 

“did you like the surprise?” he wiggles his brows, earning a grateful nod from you, “i love it freddie,” you admit shyly, feeling heat rising to your cheeks and fred resists the urge to openly snog the heck out of you, willing to hold back... for now, at least. “you always make me feel like the luckiest person alive,” 

he frowns, brows knitting together, “hey! don’t go around stealing my line,” his nose scrunches up in disapproval, “’m supposed to say that!”

“oh, you’ve surely said enough with those fireworks,” you snort, hitting the back of his neck gently. he opens his mouth to say something - if you had to guess, probably something along the lines of ‘reckon i could’ve said a whole lot more’ because fred believes life’s too short to not go out with a bang - but you quickly place a finger on his lips, beating him to it.

“speaking of, lay low a little, please?” you huff, “wouldn’t want to explain to molly and arthur that you got expelled just to profess your love to me,” fred reads between the lines and it’s code words for please don’t get expelled and not try to complete your studies or ruin your remaining time in hogwarts just for this. the amount of love and care you had for him was insane and he never knew someone could love him like this before. it made his heart feel like it was floating in his ribcage.

“i’ll try, i guess... if you give me a kiss?” he raises a brow, even though he knows it’s not a question that had any other answer than leaning in with a grin, aiming for his puckered lips, only to be-”mr. weasley,”

you don’t know if you’re grateful that at least, it wasn’t professor snape. instead it was professor mcgonagall who’s pulling fred by the ear. he yelps in response, refusing to let go of his arms on your waist until you brush his hands off. for a moment he looks a little hurt, but you can tell he’s just being playful.

“p-professor,” you lower your head, and she only tuts at the pair of you, but more towards-”i expect to see you in detention, mr. weasley,” her hand extends out to the side and she grabs ahold of-”this mr. weasley as well,” george groans when professor mcgonagall drags your weasley by the ear, and the other by his robe. “your time starts now,” she sternly reprimands, nudging them to the side to make their move and you frown and keep your head down when she turns to look at you.

yet, she doesn’t say much, only dusting your robe and offering you a small smile, to which you return as well. “i’m still surprised how you’re with mr. weasley but,” she leans in and you instinctively do the same, “as sweet as that was, do keep it under the covers. wouldn’t want to expel him,”

you let your reaction get the best of you by saying: “that’s what i said-!” you notice your outburst surprises her and you quiet down, “w-will do, professor, thank you,”

she lets a soft chuckle escape before clearing her throat to the rest of the-”students, off to bed!”

“but professor! look at how pretty she is! not even a kiss?!” fred hollers just as he’s a good distance away, his voice echoing in the courtyard as it blends with laughs from some of the students. you can’t help but keep your eyes away from anyone staring and angelina swoops in to drag you back to your dorm, but not until you’re able to blow a kiss to fred and bid him goodnight without words.

“look at that! so gorgeous! so unfair-ah!” fred yelps and you hear a smack, to which you can only make up is from professor mcgonagall when they disappear in the halls and you’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to give fred that kiss he’s earned... a few kisses, at least.))

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: IV

“I had a few, got drunk on you

And now I’m wasted

And when I sleep, I’m gonna dream of 

How you tasted.”

— Medicine, Harry Styles

A/N: if i said i’m apologizing for the way i left off ch3, yes i did ❤️ no i didn’t ❤️ it was fun ❤️ as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! and if you enjoy the piece, please reblog it!!! it keeps content creators motivated!! without further delay, hope you enjoy what’s in store for Sherlock and Watson this chapter cause it’s uhhhh quite a bit of uhhhh ~stuff~ 😌

harry’s condo : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist

word count: 26.4k

content/warnings: a mild addiction to sexting, some pretty sparkly lingerie, a very interesting photo, a strange but satisfying gift, rough sex and degradation, pillow talk about the validity of the men in Twilight, the satisfying gift being put to even more good use, Y/N going over to Harry’s apartment for the first time, mild mentions of blood, and an impromptu Hamilton re-enactment amidst more lemon blueberry pancakes

///

For the next three days, the sexting grows more frequent. 

Harry feels somewhat humiliated by it, really. He’s an adult— a full-grown, two hundred and nine year old man— and trading nudes with a simple girl shouldn’t be getting him as worked up as it does. He should know how to handle his hormones better, and the thing is, he usually does. But no one in the last few centuries has made him feel as desperate as Y/N does; he hasn’t felt this helpless for someone since he was alive. The vampire just wasn’t prepared to handle the needy responses she so easily yields from his body and he’s horribly rusty on how to skate this thin sheet of metaphorical ice. It’s like he can feel it cracking and crunching beneath his feet, but he has absolutely no power over how to stop it. Any minute, it’s bound to take him under, and he has no choice but to allow himself to drown in it. 

The following seventy two hours are full of so many dirty promises and explicit images, his phone might as well be a porno hard drive.

After coaxing Y/N into a few orgasms through the phone and receiving just as many in return, a dangerous game is set into motion that Harry knows is probably unhealthy not only for his self-worth, but for the sensitivity of his anatomy. He can only get off so many times before his joints are begging for a break. 

He wakes up Wednesday morning with a stiff ache running along his inner thighs and ebbing across the underside of his balls, but there’s an undeniable contentment stewing behind it. He doesn’t truly mind the throb, comforted by the fact that Y/N is probably facing similar issues at the moment. He finds himself smiling coyly as he flips an omelette onto one of his marble-print platters, recalling the events from the night before. 

According to what he’d heard on the other end of the phone, present throughout the array of shaky gasps, cracked whimpers, and wet sounds of pleasure that had echoed from the speaker, Harry had made Y/N squirt. 

That was a tremendous stroke to his already huge ego. The idea that he’d been able to make her cum so hard that she’d soiled her brand new sheets had been circling around his head for the last couple of hours, fluffing his confidence. It’s a milestone achievement, to be honest. He’d done something that very few men have the skill to achieve in person, meanwhile he’d done it just by using his voice and extensive imagination. The arrogance he’s sporting right now is more than justified. His cheeks are starting to ache from how hard he’s grinning.

The vampire is so lost in his recollections that he nearly misses the chime of his phone, the unique ringtone that beeps out being as welcomed as ever. 

Harry scoops up his device while spooning a piece of his green pepper and mushroom egg dish into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he swipes into Y/N’s text conversation. He smoothers the giddiness fluttering in his stomach; he’s not a child. 

As it turns out, he’d killed those butterflies for no solid reason because the instant her message pops up, they come right back to life. 

Morning! Thought I’d show you what I’m planning on wearing to work today. 

Harry roughly swallows down his breakfast at the attachment following the caption, a shiver coiling down his spine. “Fucking hell.”

The photo is a mirror shot, taken in her tiny bathroom. It’s a full body image where she’s clad in a matching set of bra and panties, the material sparkly bright red lace. The bottoms are high-waisted, hugging her tummy and hips in a way he deems perfect, the lace decorating her skin beautifully. The bra is see-through, so he has an unrestrained view of her chest and he doesn’t know why, but he thinks he might love the way her breasts look in lingerie more than without it. Make no mistake, he’ll willingly drool over her no matter what, but there’s just such a refined beauty in seeing her figure in such an elegant piece. She’s like a present set out for him to unwrap, preferably with his teeth. 

Then he notices the garters and the next forkful of food lodges in his throat. They hug around her legs deliciously, the bands settled midway down her thighs as the straps run up the sides and clip onto the hem of her panties. Yeah, he would definitely use his teeth. 

After gawking at the artwork for a minute, Harry finally gathers himself enough to type back a decent reaction.

I’m pretty sure that outfit doesn’t apply to the workspace dress code. 

Y/N shakes her head in amusement at his response, giggling softly as she finishes shimmying into her black skinny jeans, buttoning them over the skimpy lace. 

I’ll cover up for the sake of the customers. But it’s just such a nice set, I figured someone else should get to appreciate it with me.  

Harry sets his utensil down on top of his plate, omelet only half eaten. His appetite has molded into a very different type of hunger. He pads out of the kitchen, feeling the ten AM sunlight filter through the glass wall of his living room and warm his bare chest and back. He heads for the bathroom that branches out of the entrance corridor, coming to a stop right in front of its mirror. He begins to clean up his appearance, combing his bed head into a presentable state (he hadn’t slept, per usual, but rolling around his pillows last night while he indulged fantasies about Y/N had done his curls in something fierce), fixing his royal blue briefs along his hips and dragging the waistband down to show off the dip of his prominent pelvic bones.

Once the immortal is done, he taps back with eager strokes of his thumbs. 

I can’t believe you’ve never worn that for me. That’s a criminal offense. Literally worth capital punishment. 

Oh, really? Capital punishment? And who are you to decide my verdict?

I’m the executioner, obviously. I’m in charge of dispensing the verdict and I promise you, I’ll see to it that you get what you deserve. It’s my civic duty.

Y/N scoffs at his quip, tugging her navy polo shirt over her torso and quickly running a brush through her hair. She puts it up into a neat ponytail, sighing lightly as she stares at her tired reflection. She wishes she could ditch work for the day and entertain more conversation with Harry, but she literally can’t afford to.

Well, you’re gonna have to wait while I go perform my own type of civic duty. Making the world a better place, one grilled panini at a time. 

Harry’s lips jolt. She’s so clever and witty, he doesn’t know how she could possibly be from such a dull, monochrome town. 

I understand. Justice calls. But before you go, can I send you a picture of what I’M wearing today? Could use a few style tips. 

That’s pretty ironic coming from someone whose last name is literally ‘Styles.’

I know, I know. But even fashion icons have their insecurities sometimes. 

Fair point, nobody’s perfect. Lemme see your OOTD, then.

The outfit of the day appears to be no outfit at all, according to Harry’s picture. It’s taken on a mirror, like her own, and it depicts him standing with one hand holding his phone in front of his face while the other seems to be doing jazz hands down his body playfully. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of deep blue briefs (probably because he’d completely ruined the maroon pair he was wearing last night, if his broken moans and heavy panting had been any indication) and they hug his frame flawlessly. The fabric is bunched around his lean thighs, tiger head tattoo peeking out to accompany the rest of the collection, which includes all the inkings running the length of his left arm as well as the butterfly and swallows across his torso. His v-line is evident as ever, dipping below the elastic band teasingly. His chest is broad and his biceps are taut, despite the fact that he’s not even flexing. He looks like a Greek statue and Y/N is positive the higher powers designed Harry with that specific thought in mind.

Y/N doesn’t realize drool is gathering in her mouth until it tickles the inside of her bottom lip. She snaps her jaw closed, clearing her throat sheepishly. Over a minute has passed of her just ogling and she can feel heat layering across her cheeks. She knows Harry probably has the cockiest expression on his face at the moment, obvious in the tone of the next comment he delivers. 

Damn, it’s that bad, huh? Guess I’ll have to change. 

No, it’s perfect. Simple, but effective. Very professional. 

Why, thank you! 

My pleasure.

Here, take this as a token of my appreciation. Hopefully it can help get you through the day. 

This specific photo is taken from an above point of view, as if Y/N were looking down at Harry’s body along with him. His pectorals and stomach muscles appear more defined, tattoos darker and skin more evidently sunkissed. Lower down, there’s the obvious outline of what lies within his boxers, snuggled up against his thick thigh and tempting her to let out a soft whine. Then, resting casually against his abdomen is his free hand, sporting a thumbs-up that gives a purposefully goofy vibe to the risky image. He’s such an idiot. 

The mortal’s answer is just as silly and lighthearted as his gesture. 

Thank you, I’ll keep it locked in my heart forever. 

I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

That’s the first interaction of many that further opens the door to their virtual sex life. Things hardly stay that innocent. 

That night when Y/N gets home from work, they undergo another round of phone sex. It starts off the same: cheeky banter that leads to cheeky pictures that eventually leads to utter filth. 

And that’s how they spend the next few days— taking care of each other’s needs digitally until Friday rolls around. There’s plenty of those encounters, but there’s definitely favorites. 

A session during one of Harry’s self-care baths, when he puts her on speaker and she talks him through tugging one out while the scent of lavender salts— which he’d chosen because they smell like her— leave his heated skin feeling soft and supple. Another instance where he makes her orgasm while she has gotten bored watching a scary movie marathon on her couch, the screams of the horror film mere background noise compared to all the sweet nothings Harry huskily mumbles into her ear, his dominant voice filtering through her headphone and instructing her on how to make herself feel good.

Harry messages her at three A.M. at one point, wide awake as ever, all of his thoughts occupied by the concept of Y/N laying on her tummy between his thighs and sucking him off at a slow pace. He can practically see her small hands wrapped around his girth, stroking up to meet her pretty lips, her tongue lapping at his tip eagerly as she whines around a full mouth. She’s always just so eager. Even at the crack of dawn, she’s awake by some miracle, and happily willing to delve into that fantasy with him. Her soft, timid tone drifts across the shells of his ears, explicitly sketching out how she’d take him all the way down her throat until she gags, and how she’d kiss all over the head of his prick just to smear his precum over her lips to then lick it off, and how she’d rock against his lap fast and hard while he takes her nipples between his teeth. How she wouldn’t stop until he’s dripping down her thighs and groaning into her throat. How she’d let him fuck her as many times as it takes to tire himself out. 

Harry obviously repays her, and it comes in the form of him painting out a scenario where she’s gotten home from a long day at the café. He tells her about how he’d be there waiting for her in nothing but his underwear, sitting back on his elbows in her bed, touching himself over his briefs just at the thought of pleasuring her. About how he’d lay her out and taste every inch of her body with his tongue, and how he’d run his teeth across her inner thighs tenderly while his fingers play with her clit, and how he’d have her ride his face deep and sloppy until she’s shaking and sensitive. How he’d tie her to the bed and toss her legs over his shoulders while he pounds her into the mattress, marking bruises across her neck as she sucks on his fingers and tightens around his cock like “the snug little thing you are.”

They even take their fun out of the confines of their houses and into public settings, just to give it an adrenaline high. Those situations are foreplay; it’s how they prep each other throughout the day for when they’re both finally alone and can truly help one another to the fullest. 

It happens Thursday on two occasions. 

First, to Y/N, who is sitting in the backroom on her lunch break, though she’s barely touched her food. She’s much more interested in what Harry has to say. Much more interested in how he says he wishes he could be there with her right now. That she could sneak him in through the back door of the restaurant and they could lock themselves in that tiny supply room, making sure no one would disturb what he’s about to do to her. That he would drop to his knees and drag her jeans down her legs, pressing damp kisses in the denim’s wake, biting hickies in the areas he knows she loves to receive them. He would mount her knees over his shoulders and bury his face between her thighs, looking up at her through heavy lashes as he licks into her desperately. He would have her grab onto his curls and guide his tongue just the way she likes it, and she’d have to bite into her cheek to keep from getting caught. 

He talks about how he’d take her against the supply shelves, one hand clamped over her mouth while he pants praise into her ear, her body jolting roughly upwards against the surface as she clings to his back. How he’d hold her up with the other arm and slam her down onto his cock, cooing things like, “Gotta keep quiet for me, sweetheart. Can’t make you cum if we get caught.” and “Such a filthy girl, sneaking me in here just to fuck you. Baby just wants to walk around the rest of the day full of me, doesn’t she?” 

That fantasy leaves her in a bothered haze the rest of the work day. It’s bad enough that she almost drops her tray three different times and has to ask multiple customers to repeat their orders. 

Y/N gets back at Harry, though. That revenge is the second occasion. 

The vampire had mentioned that he would be going out with his friends that evening to a bar and she takes full advantage of that. When the picture comes through, Harry nearly spits out his Manhattan drink. 

He’s sitting in a booth surrounded by his entire group and he’d been talking shit with Niall about golf. The vampire doesn’t care for the sport, but Niall loves it, and Harry loves getting on Niall’s nerves, therefore it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Mitch and Adam join in, with Mitch obviously supporting Harry, when he randomly decides to check his notifications. Even in the shrunken little banner, Harry can immediately tell the photo is graphic. Xander asks if he’s alright, telling him he looks freakishly pale and to get his eyes under control because they're in public. Harry blinks the red from his irises, hurriedly excusing himself and clambering up from his seat, jetting across the restaurant towards the restrooms. It’s occupied, much to his luck, so he settles for simply pressing his back against the wall of the corridor, leaning his head against the bricks and taking deep breaths to calm the raging in his stomach. He gingerly opens the message and his knees nearly give out. 

The image is taken from the back, probably using a timer. Y/N is wearing one of her big tees and another pair of cheeky lace panties, but this time around, they’re pastel peach and crotchless. She’s bent over with her ass up and spine arched, knees parted for balance, her shirt bunching downwards due to the angle. Her arms are pulled behind her back and her chest is flushed to the bed, wrists crossed submissively as she gazes at the camera over her shoulder. There’s an unmistakable sparkle in her eyes and he can tell she had sent this now on purpose just to fuck with him, knowing good and well that he was out and occupied.

The shot is more than he can handle and he has to swallow down the urge to stomp out of the bar, get into his car, race to her flat, and make her rethink her decision. Preferably, in the form of harsh spanks and overstimulation. He can see everything— the intentional rip at the crotch of the panties are meant for that sole reason. The closer he looks, he comes to realize that she’s wet, which in turn means she had been touching herself. She’d set this up perfectly, knowing that he’d easily be able to deduce that fact and that it would haunt him for the rest of the night. 

The monster releases a quivering exhale, typing back slowly and carefully, sight bleary. 

You’re going to regret that. 

Pinky promise?

///

When Harry arrives at Y/N’s apartment the next night, as he has for the last three Fridays, he doesn’t saunter up to her door and bang on it angrily. He doesn’t grab her by her hair and drag her into her room, how he’d intended. He doesn’t even have a single cinch in his sculpted brows. 

Instead, he raps softly on the door with one jeweled knuckle and waits calmly. 

The human goes to answer, her stomach twisting in excitement at all the possibilities of what punishment she might face for her antics. A small, sly smile buckles the corners of her lips at the thought, her fingers trembling as they wrap around her cold doorknob. She expects to find a furrow-browed, intense-eyed, red-faced Harry behind the threshold, who would shove past her, nab her by the arm, and throw her onto her bed. She expects him to yank his belt from around his hips while a distinct darkness swallows his emerald irises, his mouth curling into a sinister grin. She expects him to roughly command she get on her hands and knees, his palm finding the back of her head to shove her face-first into the sheets while he rips her panties down her legs and drags the cool leather of his accessory over her backside tauntingly.

What she gets is something— and someone— completely the opposite. 

When her door swings open, Harry is standing standing there, sure. But instead of looming over her with flaring nostrils and cruel intent, he’s decided to lean against the door frame with his arms folded casually. His body is completely empty of tension, his ankles are crossed offhandedly, and a small, bright red paper bag full of sparkly black tissue paper is hanging off his wrist. His expression is a relaxed facade of indifference, lips set into his usual signature smirk, no explosive emotions present whatsoever. 

That startles Y/N. This has to be an act; it feels like the calm before a violent storm and it has her shifting in her socked feet. Did he...Did he forget what she did? 

There’s no way he forgot. It was too brazen a move to dismiss.

Harry steps forward into her home, comfortable enough that he no longer has to wait for an invitation. Y/N moves to the side to let him through, hesitantly closing the entrance behind him, contemplating the man as if he were a ticking bomb. She does a quick sweep of his physique, looking for some other clue as to what he could be plotting, aside from the mysterious gift bag in his hand. He’s wearing a pair of flared denim jeans, a white tee with a royal blue cartoon bee printed in the center along with the words Enjoy health! Eat your honey! surrounding it, his white Vans, and an oversized colorful patch-work cardigan. The outfit is surprisingly domestic compared to his usual taste, but she finds it’s easily one of her favorite fits on him. He just looks so boyish adorable. 

The human comes up with nothing suspicious, glancing back up to lock eyes with her guest. Harry beams at her innocently and she knows for sure he’s planning something, but she can’t place what. 

“I got you this.” The vampire speaks up first, holding out the paper bag towards Y/N with his index finger, bouncing it encouragingly. “Take a peek.” 

The girl accepts the gift gingerly, giving him one more hard look before breaking away to investigate what lies beneath the tissue paper. She pulls out a small cardboard box, her eyes squinting slightly as she reads its print and surveys the label. The image on the surface appears to be of five silicone finger gloves, each about the size of a thumbtack, tiny metal plates embedded into the pads. She’s voicing her curiosity before she’s even finished studying the container. 

“What...What are these?”

Harry rolls his eyes jokingly, tapping the object for emphasis. “Read the fine print, love.” 

Y/N focuses on the region he’d pointed out, reciting aloud. “‘Vibrating silicone finger gloves. For the use of personal pleasure or with partners.’”

Then it all clicks. 

“Oh my God, you got me— what?!” Y/N’s head snaps up in shock, mouth parted and brows creased. “Harry, what?”

The young man laughs airily, gently opening the seal of the box in her hands, which she is now holding as if it were a weapon of mass destruction. It’s such a weird present to give in general, moreso all out of the blue, so she can’t be blamed for her reaction.

He uncaps the packaging, rummaging through its contents and pulling out two of the tiny rubbery gloves. They’re transparent and ribbed, obviously meant to deliver as many sensations as possible, and they’re about two inches in length. He slips them onto his index and middle finger, making scissoring motions for the purpose of symbolism, but mainly just to watch Y/N fidget. “I remember how you said you don’t have sex toys because you’d never really thought about buying any, so I went and picked these up down at my favorite shop. Jessi said they’re good for beginners.”

“Jessi?” Y/N’s voice is tight. She’s not sure how to respond to this; she’s never been in this situation before. No one has ever just given her a sex toy as if a were a candy bar. “Who’s Jessi and why do they need to know about my sex life?”

“She’s the manager.” Harry says matter-of-factly. He doesn’t seem to find anything strange about this encounter. “She helped me pick out my first pocket vag, so I trust her with my soul. Here, look. You just slip them on and—” He makes finger thrusting motions in the air, wiggling his digits playfully. “Big O. Not as good as what I can give you, obviously, but close enough.”

“Harry, you do realize this is a little…odd, right?”

The boy blinks at Y/N blankly. “What? Why? Sex is literally the basis of this whole thing.” He signals back and forth between them with his gloved forefinger. “It’s really not that weird at all, if y’think about it.”

“I just...it’s like…” 

Her argument fizzles to an end the longer she stares at him. He has the most wholesome expression painted across his handsome features, his eyes glossy with excitement. He looks genuinely elated about the present and she can’t find it in herself to question him any further. As unorthodox as this may be, it’s the first true act of kindness anyone has shown Y/N since she had moved to California. It’s the first time anyone has given the girl anything without her having to request it. She comes to the realization that Harry really is the only friend she has at the moment, and she refuses to pick and prod at that, lest he retract from her on the grounds that she’s ungrateful. Yes, this is a little atypical, but so is their whole dynamic. In his own twisted way, this is how Harry shows his friendship. 

The more she ponders on it, she starts to understand that this truly is something she should accept. He went out of his way to get her this gift, which solidifies their acquaintanceship. It’s sweet.

“You know what, never mind. Thank you! I love them.” 

The giddy smile that cracks his face melts her heart. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Harry then softly grasps her hand with his, tugging her down the entrance hallway, his intentions set on her bedroom. His voice takes on a deeper sultry twang, the corners of his mouth twitching suggestively. “Because on my way here, I was thinking, yeah? And I figured: who better to teach you how to use these than the person who picked them out.”

“Of fucking course.” Y/N huffs in amusement, shaking her head but allowing herself to be guided forward. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.” 

“Heyyyyy!” Harry’s whine is offended, but the coy simper dimpling his cheeks ruins any defense he could possibly try to spin. “This isn’t an ulterior motive, it’s simply a supporting one.”

“Right.” Y/N states flatly, shuffling forward slowly as he backs down her corridor, momentarily glancing over his shoulder to orient himself. “Buying a fuck buddy a sex toy is totally selfless and mutually exclusive of the agreement.”

Harry takes a turn and crosses the threshold into her bedroom, releasing her arm and instead, he opts for wrapping his fist into the loose material of her large Transformers tee, twisting the fabric around his knuckles and giving it a sharp yank. She stumbles into his chest and almost drops the box. 

The vampire gazes down at her with half-lidded eyes, long lashes tempting and plush lips the color of roses. “I never said it was mutually exclusive. I just said it wasn’t meant to be evidently inclusive.” 

He takes the box from her grip, sliding it onto her nightstand so that any obstacles between them are eliminated. He beckons her closer with a flick of his wrist, feeling heat erupt across his chest as her palms slap down against it to steady herself. She’s always so warm, almost like a furnace. It’s a nice contrast to his ever-present coldness.

Harry’s cupped fingers nurse the slope of her jaw, tilting her chin up to level his, Cupid’s bow ghosting over her own teasingly as a grin threatens to betray him. His accent is thick, heavy with condescension. “Now do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Y/N gulps audibly, the sudden jump in her heart rate causing Harry’s cock to give a foreshadowing twitch in his designer jeans. Her eyes soften with a form of weepy desire, head nodding in his grasp. 

Harry’s top teeth catch on his lower lip as he appraises her from over the crest of his defined cheekbones. “I don’t think I heard you, pet. Must be the AC draft.”

The mortal’s eyes fall shut as she composes herself, a shaky sigh faltering past her nostrils. She tips forward onto her toes, connecting her itching mouth to his. Harry allows it, listing his head to the side to grant her more access, his free arm roping across the dip of her spine and pressing her front flushed to his. The kiss is soft and heated, full of drunken tongues and muffled whimpers. It’s tame compared to most of the others they’ve shared, but Harry likes it. It’s sloppy and intimate; only the beginning of what he knows will be a long night. 

Her words sting the ridges of his lips, hot and bated. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Harry speaks into her mouth, tone gentle but packing a punch. “Get my belt off for me, will you? I’m tying you to the bed tonight.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, a dark chuckle vibrating across his tongue when her fingers immediately begin to fumble with his belt buckle. 

Once Harry has looped the leather tightly around Y/N’s wrists and has knotted them to one of the wooden railings of her headboard, he sits back on his heels to admire his work. Y/N is splayed out across her mattress with her arms suspended above her head, bare thighs clasped in anticipation as her t-shirt gathers around her waist. Her hands are curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as she watches Harry leisurely shrug off his cardigan, keeping eye contact with her the whole way through. His tattoos stand out against the buttery light of the single lamp on the table, tanned arms flexing sinfully. 

He shifts around, laying down onto his stomach and coasting his palms up her quivering legs, kissing over her kneecaps and along the crease of her inner thighs, bunching her shirt further up her body as he goes. As soon as he spots the first garter, he blacks out for a millisecond, vision washing red. 

“Fuck, wait— did you…?” His voice is strained and desperate as he shoves the rest of her clothes up her torso, pulling her shirt over her head and letting it rest at her elbows. He hums appreciatively when he’s met with the full cherry-colored lingerie set from a few days ago, garters and all. “God, you did.”

Y/N’s gaze falls timidly, a sheepish smile brushing over her face. “I thought you’d want to see it in person, since you seemed to like it so much.” 

“Mm...” Harry struggles to swallow, fingers hooking under the straps that clip to the hem of her underwear, pulling the fabric from her skin and letting them snap back into place. He revels in the tiny noise she lets slip, the pads of his digits now toying across the frilly bands encircling her upper legs. After a thoughtful heartbeat, Harry speaks up, wistful but vehement. “I’m going to make you soil your sheets again.” 

Y/N bucks a tad at his promise, wrists stressing against the leather belt, but Harry’s practiced enough bondage in his lifetime to know she won’t be getting out anytime soon. He parts her knees open with his palms, dragging his silicone-covered fingers down her clothed clit and tutting when she lets out a stuttery gasp. 

“Always so sensitive, aren’t you, angel?” The vampire pets at her core patiently, heat pooling at the base of his abdomen as he feels her panties damped with every stroke of his touch. “Christ, you’re already soaking through.”  

“Want more.” The girl’s plead is strangled as she actively forces herself to keep her legs wide open, knowing that if she were to allow them to snap shut, Harry would only pry them apart again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week. Please.”

“All week?” Harry drags tongue across the inside of her thigh, nipping at the flesh tauntingly, the amber specks in his eyes glittering amidst his lashes. He continues to rub through her underwear, drinking up all the little noises streaming from her throat. “Tread lightly, dove. You’re swelling my ego.”

“I just…” Her hips give another jerk when he wriggles two rubber-clad fingers into the crotch of her bottoms, spreading her open just a bit and grinning against her skin at how wet she’s become. “I just need it hard tonight, Harry. Need you to leave me sore.” 

“I always leave you sore.” The monster reasons mockingly, taking one of the garters between his teeth and tugging, releasing so it stings her like before. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.” 

Y/N trembles out an exhale, gathering herself enough to give him what he wants. “I need you to fuck me like you hate me.”

Harry grabs onto either sides of her panties, slowly peeling them down her legs and then scooting closer forward, planting an open-mouthed kiss right onto her bare clit. She mewls in return, her restraints creaking the bed. He continues pressing messy wet pecks to her cunt, feeling her tense up each time his soft lips suckle her fervently. 

“Is that why you sent that picture?” Harry wonders aloud, pausing his motions and raising one eyebrow at her. “Because you wanted me mad?”

The human nods, face wracked with guilt. It’s cute that she feels bad, especially because Harry had, in actuality, enjoyed her little stunt. Seeing her bent over like that, in a position that shows she couldn’t wait to please him— that she couldn’t wait until Friday came around so he could do to her whatever he deemed fit...It was the best form of edging he’s ever experienced. But for the sake of giving her what she wants, he’ll bite the bait. 

Harry rises up onto his knees, parting her thighs further as he fits himself between them, the pads of his gloved digits dancing across the thick of her damp clit. He bends down until his nose smudges over hers, the breath of his low words hot against her parted mouth. 

“Well, it fucking worked.”  

Harry taps his index and middle fingers against his palm in one quick flick and the tiny metal plates situated along the tips purr to life. He sinks knuckle-deep inside of Y/N, cold rings catching on her folds as he curls upwards to get at that special spot that resides along the pit of her tummy. The moan she releases it so raw and broken, it sends a zip of lightning through his veins. 

He fucks her like that for a while, with his strong chest poised against her heaving own as he marks love bites onto the cleavage spilling from her lace bra, his skilled fingers pumping into her at a harsh pace that has her legs shaking on either sides. He thumbs over her clit messily, the silicone molds sending waves of vibrations through her clenching walls as he relentlessly toys with her g-spot, her arms thrashing against his belt. Fragmented sounds of bliss freely stream from Y/N’s mouth without shame, his name intermingling amongst the whimpers as her head throws back against the headboard. Harry grips her throat in one hand, holding her to the sturdy surface as his other bobs between her thighs roughly, the bed groaning as a result of their intense actions. His wrist begins to ache from how hard he’s going, but the tears trickling out from the corners of Y/N’s eyes and the way she’s panting into his mouth are enough to keep him going.

“Look at me.” Harry squeezes her jugular tighter, garnering attention. She forces her eyelids open, inhales hiccuping when he braces his cool forehead to hers, his irises the color of a forest at midnight, pupils blown out of proportion. His teeth dig into her bottom lip just to feel it swell, a growl stirring the gravel in his chest. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Y-Yes.” Y/N boggles her head feverishly, glimpsing down over her sweaty cheeks to see the way his veins are chiseling along the forearm that is flexing between her drenched thighs. “Fuck, it’s so g-good.”

“Yeah? How about we go a little higher, hm?” Harry scrapes the pads of his fingers against that spongy place inside her, pressing the vibrators down and the motion clicks the toy into a higher level of intensity. 

Y/N writhes in his grasp, back arching off the headboard as deeper, more concentrated rumbles lap throughout her body. “Harry— I— that’s— God, just please!”

Harry takes ahold of her jaw as he continues finger-fucking her without remorse, his short breaths warm against her burning lips. “That’s my girl. Taking it hard and loving every second.” 

Y/N’s eyes lull back into her head. She doesn’t know why, but hearing Harry call her his girl satisfies her in a manner so deep, she didn’t know it existed. Just hearing him recognize her as his— as something he claims for himself, almost like an extension of who he is— stirs a foreign form of fulfillment in the back of her mind. 

“I’m—” The girl chokes on her sentence, finding it difficult to concentrate with so much pleasure coursing through her system, as well as with Harry painting hickies across the side of her strained neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

The immortal’s voice is stern and authoritative. “No, you’re not.” 

“I am, I can’t hold—”

“Yes,” Harry’s grip firms, pace sharpening into unapologetic slams, “you can. And you will. If you cum before I let you, you’re not getting anything else from me for the rest of the night. Do I make myself clear?”

Y/N’s cunt tightens around his fingers, warning him that she’s about to peak. “Harry, I’m sorry—but— but I—”

“Do I make myself clear?” 

Y/N has no hope that she can keep it in, but she adores the darkness swirling in Harry’s eyes at the moment and she’ll do anything if it means getting to witness it for a while longer. “Yes.” 

“Good.” She winces when she feels his teeth skim her earlobe, his whisper dripping with arrogant amusement. “I told you I’d make you regret it.” 

And he really does keep his oath. Minutes simulate hours as Harry continues to flirt her just along the seams of relief, pulling her back every time he sees her about to tip. Whenever he feels her begin to spasm around his slick fingers, he gives her a cautionary quirk of his brows accompanied by a testing, throaty, “Don’t you fucking dare.” or a simple, silent shake of his head. By some miracle, she manages to reign herself in every time, but each ruined orgasm makes it harder and harder to stifle the next. She doesn’t know how many times it happens; she stops counting after four. 

After what feels like decades of torture, Harry finally releases his hold around her jugular, allowing her to properly gulp air for the first time in a while. He sits back against his heels, pulling his hand from between her thighs with a sarcastic sympathetic hiss. “Poor thing.” 

He watches as a trail of her juices strings from his digits to her cunt, eventually snapping in the middle as he lifts his hand to study his work. Her release drips down his knuckles and palm, gleaming in the dim lighting. A mildly sadistic glint washes over Harry’s irises and for a split second, they look almost red, but Y/N dismisses it. Her brain is too fogged to trust right now. 

The boy’s sight flickers past his hand to where Y/N lies limply, wrists bruised from the bonds, arms quivering weakly, and legs trembling in overstimulation. He’s never seen her look more beautiful than now. 

He locks his bright eyes to her exhausted own, watching them shatter to pieces when he pushes his drenched fingers past his pillowy blushed lips. His lashes flutter as her taste washes across his tongue, sweet and decadent as always, a soft groan thrumming deep in his throat. God, he can only imagine how delectable her blood must be at the moment, honeyed by the plethora of endorphins he had repeatedly coaxed into her. He can't wait to feel its warmth fill his mouth later tonight.

Harry removes his fingers with a wet pop, licking across the back of his hand with finality and giving her a daring once-over. “Do you still want my cock? Or are you too sensitive for it, darling?”

He sounds so conceited and self-assured, it causes Y/N’s pride to flare. She wants to make him eat his stupid words.  

The mortal licks her chapped lips, wetting her dry throat and clearing it softly, wiping away the sweat on her forehead with her shoulder. “I still want it.” 

An impressed expression decorates Harry’s features. “You think you can take it?”

Y/N’s jaw clenches with dedication, her thighs spreading open a tad more and she wills herself not to flinch. Her chin cocks upwards. “I know I can.” 

Harry’s brows kink challengingly, a borderline evil smirk sewing onto his face. “Let’s see, then.” 

As it turns out, Y/N can take it. However, she knows for a fact she won’t be able to walk right for at least the next week.

Harry lowers his jeans and kicks them off, reaching into his navy briefs and tugging himself out, giving his length a few pumps for good measure as he shifts forward toward her. He flips the girl onto her belly as easily as he’d turn a sheet of paper, tying one arm around her hips and lifting them up as he slides a pillow below. He situates her accordingly onto the cushion, her ass slightly elevated to give him more range of depth. He pats at her backside lightly, telling her to part her knees and she does so obediently, gripping onto the leather strap around her wrists anxiously when she feels the bed shift with his weight. Harry lowers himself over her body, the tee covering his broad chest soaking up the thin sheet of sweat on her back. He moves all of her tangled hair to the side, burying his fingers into her roots and yanking her head back cheekily. He runs his nose across her damp cheekbone and chuckles when she jumps slightly at the feathery sensation. 

“You’re pretty stubborn, aren’t you?” 

Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip as she struggles to swallow, throat taut from the angle he’s put her in. Her voice carries a confident bite, despite her compromisable position. “I like to think I am, yeah.” 

“Well, you know what that makes you, right?” Harry murmurs as he lines himself up with her entrance. 

“Mm-mm. What?” 

The vampire presses a lingering kiss to the tittering pulse in her temple, feeling it thunder below his skin as he forms his next comment slowly with an ominous edge. “It makes you a brat.” 

He feels her heartbeat trip. 

“And you know what I do to brats?” 

Y/N shakes her head as much as his dominant grasp will allow, body tightening in suspense. 

“I fuck them until they break.” 

Y/N learns that he’s telling the truth. The first thrust Harry delivers is swift, hard, and unbelievably deep; it causes her to let out a choked scream that no one else has ever drawn from her before, except for him. It’s like he can tap into certain aspects of her body she was unaware of; parts of her waiting for the right person to come along and reveal them. She feels that stroke rip into her tummy, but the pain of his size is something she’s become accustomed to in the last three weeks. She hardly feels it anymore; it had molded from a sharp throb to a dull ache, due to how often she’s experienced it. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time, quickly picking up a sloppy, adamant pace that has her hips bouncing against the mattress. He twists her hair around his fist, mouth pressed to the side of her head as his hot pants of exertion send a prickling through her scalp. His other forearm keeps him anchored to the bed as he pounds into her with absolutely no hesitation, the sound of skin slapping, cracked whines, and raspy grunts filling the tense atmosphere of her chilly room. 

“Is this what you were hoping would happen when you sent that slutty picture?” Harry grits out, short nails digging into the comforter beneath. “Wanted to get me all riled up just so I’d do your back in?”

Y/N mewls weakly in response, hands clinging to each other within the makeshift cuffs. 

“If you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you, you could have just asked. I’m more than happy to give you whatever you want. You don’t have to tempt me.” The vampire gives a particularly deep slam, laughing breathily when the girl’s back instinctively arches forward, paired with a watery yelp of, “Oh!”

Harry’s tongue grazes across the shell of her ear, teeth catching the skin. “But since you did, I’ll give it to you just— like—that.” His thrusts match to each word, fingers coiling harder into her locks. “You deserve it. Especially when you had the nerve to act like such a spoiled little brat right to my face.” 

Y/N’s not sure what emboldens her to speak, but her snarky remark is already halfway down her numb tongue before she can stop it. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

Harry hums tauntingly, circling his hips in long strides that urge a series of fractured whimpers to scrape out of Y/N’s sore throat. “Say it again. Go ahead, say it. I want to see you try.”

She remains silent, spine shuddering as she bites down on her tongue to avoid making any more noises that might condemn her.  

Harry roughly cranes Y/N’s neck to the side, buttoning their lips together in a filthy kiss that has her cheeks boiling. “That’s what I thought. The only thing that sharp tongue is good for is licking down my cock.” 

She gasps against his mouth shakily, tears of sheer bliss gathering along her waterline. “You’re such a fucking asshole.” 

Harry can tell her comment holds no true malice behind it; she’s too sweet on him— too whipped on what he gives her— to ever mean it. She’d only said it to provoke him into a power dynamic struggle. But the thing is, Harry’s dealt with feeling powerless before, so he had spent years teaching himself how to win. How to always win. 

“Am I, now?” His next line dismantles her entire plan. “Would an asshole let you cum?”

And just like that, her whole demeanor crumbles. “I take it back. I’m s-sorry.”

Harry releases her hair and nips at her ear mockingly, beginning to withdraw himself. “Oh, I think it’s a bit too late for that, minx.”

“No, no! Harry, please. I’m sorry. Genuinely. I promise I won’t say it again. Just…” She tugs helplessly at the belt restraints, trying to twist around to look at him directly. Her voice is wringed out. “Just please.”

The boy pushes a few stringy curls out of his eyes, pressing his tongue into his cheek coyly as he glances down, suggestively smoothing one hand over her ass. He gives it a firm squeeze, lifting his palm teasingly and feeling her tense in anticipation. “Do you want it?”

Y/N glimpses at his bejeweled hand with hunger, then back at his eyes. “Yes.”

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it.”

“Sorry, I seem to have forgotten what ‘it’ was, exactly. Jog my memory, will you? What is it you want?”

Her irises harden in spite at his shit-eating comment. He’s well aware of how shy she can be when it comes to admitting she wants a spanking, and he’s playing that to his advantage. He’s swimming in the way she squirms. 

“I...I want you to spank me.”

He tsks, shaking his head as he twists his HS rings around to face inwards. “You forgot something.” 

Y/N’s fingers tighten into begrudging fists. “I want you to spank me, please.”

“There’s a good girl.” His low, accented purr sends electricity through her nerves. “You’re so cute when you beg.”

Harry’s hand comes down swiftly, digits fanned out so that all of his rings print across her backside. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to leave a satisfying sting. He loves the way she jolts forward with a hushed curse of surprise, and he adores seeing the shape of his initials marked across her clammy skin. It’s poetic, almost.

“So pretty.” His mumble is wistful as he massages deeply over the region he had just bruised, but it holds unyielding authority. “Whose is it, doll?”

“Yours.” 

“And don’t you fucking forget it.” The creature lifts one palm to do it again, pausing once more just to rev her further. He reaches forward with the other, shoving her face-first into the mattress to get her back to straighten out. “Look forward and don’t make a single sound.”

Y/N obeys, but manages to sneak a peek at his reflection through the waxy wooden surface of her aged bedframe. He looks so good perched behind her with bare heaving shoulders, looking down at her exposed figure over the crests of his sharp cheekbones, brows furrowed into a starved expression that gives away he’s enjoying this probably more than she is. Her voice comes out small and weak. “Yes, sir.”

Harry’s entire face tightens at the word and she feels him throb against her backside. 

“Now beg me to let you cum.”

///

The next morning when Y/N’s eyes flutter open to the grey light streaking in through her curtains, the first thing she senses is a pair of eyes staring at the side of her face. 

She turns her stiff body over toward where the sensation stems and sure enough, she’s met with a pair of sea glass irises filled to the brim with humor. Harry’s laying on his side with his hands tucked below one of her pillows, tousled ringlets sticking up in wild tuffs (thanks to the activities they’d engaged yesterday), he’s completely bare since he likes sleeping nude (though he’d had the decency to cover himself with sheets from the waist down), and his voice is slower and raspier than usual (a result of being dormant for the last eight or so hours). 

“You drool in your sleep.” 

Y/N tucks her hands against Harry’s cold pectorals, snuggling deeper into his chest and pinching at one of his nipples in playful revenge. “No, I don’t.” 

“Yes,” he reaches up and shoos her hand away, proceeding to wipe at the side of her mouth, where dried spit had accumulated. He makes a theatrical gagging face, cleaning his thumb off across the collar of her t-shirt. “You do.”

Y/N sighs in exasperation, making a bold leap to a different topic to avoid talking about her embarrassing sleep habits. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you staring at people while they sleep is weird? Like, serial killer weird?” 

Harry tucks a few matted strands of hair behind the human’s ear, thumbing over her cheekbone tenderly. He hardly ever indulges in such actions, simply because they’re typically reserved for actual couples, which he and Y/N are definitely not. But last night— after he had finally finished being a prick and allowed her cum along with him, and after she had fallen into the bed with exhaustion taking her under, and after he’d had his greedy fill of her blood for the week— he’d gotten bored of playing on his phone. He’d burned through three cold case documentaries on Netflix and played enough Mario Kart to memorize the race charts; it had grown old quickly, and he eventually just locked the device and placed it on her nightstand. He spent the next hour staring at her hideous ceiling, and the one after that fantasizing about taking down her tapestry and burning it in the oven. And finally, after hours of mindless daydreams and letting his eyes chase the city lights dancing across the walls of her room, he had settled onto his side and watched her sleep. 

Harry did it simply because he had nothing else to distract him. He figured it would eventually bore him enough that maybe— just maybe, if he was lucky— he would fall asleep alongside her. But he didn’t, so he just ended up gazing at her slumbering face until dawn. He had been surprised by how oddly beautiful Y/N looked sleeping— how relaxed and tranquil, with her features soft and skin seemingly made of flawless porcelain. That intrigue had bled into the moment they share now, resulting in his touch drifting down the curve of her jaw and across the faint dimple on her chin. He follows the slope of her neck and admires the smoothness of her flesh with the ridges of his fingertips, hearing her breathing stutter ever so slightly. His heightened senses make it feel as if he’s running his digits over velvet and the only concept he can compare it to is touching forbidden artwork at an exhibit. It’s exciting, but he knows that if he keeps going, he could end up getting himself into a crock of shit. 

When the pads of his fingers land on two prominent purple bruises he’d forgotten existed, he’s broken from his soft stupor. He retracts his touch as if she were made of iron, forcing himself to ignore the pout that automatically plumps her delicate lips. 

He clears his throat awkwardly, a tight chuckle stringing his vocal chords. “Staring at someone in their sleep seemed to work just fine for Edward Cullen, though.” 

Y/N snorts sharply, rolling her eyes up towards her headboard. When she sees his belt is still hanging off of it from the night prior, she hurriedly glances back down, pretending not to have seen it. 

“It’s funny you say that because as I recall, he literally admitted to being a murderer. I believe his exact words were,” she exaggerates her voice into an angsty cry, grasping at her chest dramatically, “‘This is the skin of a killer, Bella!’”

Harry bursts into boyish giggles, falling fully onto his back and swiping his palm up his face, fingers remaining perched over his closed eyes as he laughs. He sighs airily, shaking his head as an afterthought. “What a moron.” 

“Truly. His dad was hotter.” 

“Way hotter.” Harry agrees passionately, burying his hand into his messy curls, attempting to comb out some of the tangles. “And he was a doctor. What a man.” 

“Bella really fucked that one up. She had a midlife crisis over choosing between a sad vampire who looked like he had chronic constipation, and a yappy dog with a shirt phobia. All when Carlisle was right there. Brain damage, honestly.” 

“A moment of prayer for the mentally incapacitated. Couldn't be me!”

“Couldn’t be me, either.”   

“Fuck, yeah.” Harry throws his hand up, inviting Y/N to give him a high five. “To good taste.”

She gladly delivers. “Exquisite taste.”

An instance of comfortable silence suspends between the pair of lovers, filled with the soft thrum of the air vent and the distant chirping of birds outside Y/N’s windowpane. She traces her index nail over the wings of the swallow tattoos along Harry’s collarbones, seeming to be deep in thought. She then speaks up once again.

“Emmett was pretty hot, as well.” 

“You know what? I’m happy you mentioned that ‘cause— full disclosure here— I’d ride him like a fucking bull.” 

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to explode in a fit of giggles, nose scrunching and eyes crinkling shut as she loses herself at Harry’s graphic confession. 

“Why are you laughing?!” The fact that he sounds genuinely appalled only spurs her sounds of glee. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t take that chance if you got it. Like, okay, he’s an airhead, yeah? I’m aware. But fuck’s sake, look at his body. I’d happily let him beat me at arm wrestling if it means I get that celebratory dick afterwards.”

The mortal manages to calm down a handful of heartbeats later and Harry feels strangely proud of how he’d made her pulse spike. 

“You’re valid for that, don’t worry. I couldn’t have said it—” A single giggle interupts her sentence, but she reigns it in before it can spiral. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Literally. There’s no way to express it better than exactly how you stated it.” 

Harry smirks softly up at the ceiling, folding his free arm behind his head as the other wraps securely down Y/N’s back, absentmindedly rubbing in gentle soothing circles. “My mind. It’s amazing, innit?”

“It’s definitely something.” 

Another span of cozy quietness fills the atmosphere of the room, longer than the last. Harry doesn’t mind. He finds it appeasing, and he continues to delight himself with running his touch up and down Y/N’s spine. He’s not sure how much time passes, but he’s aware that it’s probably a bit. His theory is supported by how he witnesses the beam of watery light that filters over the duvet gradually fade from silver to a sunflower yellow, indicating full daybreak. 

Even then, he doesn’t say a word, too caught up in this innocent bubble of domestic bliss to pop it so suddenly. He just lays there and listens. Listens to the birds harmonizing with each other across the branches of the tree outside. To the steady breaths that fill Y/N’s lungs with cool air, faltering past her nostrils in the same manner and fogging the metal of his cross necklace. To the faint sound of footsteps trotting down the staircase outside her apartment, and to the vague spritz of the sprinkler system going off at the front of the complex. To the distant honking of car horns in traffic, and to a random conversation between two friends as they walk past the pavement just under Y/N’s balcony. He hasn’t felt this at ease in eons. 

Harry just allows himself to grow in tune with the world around him— a world he’d been convinced was against him for the longest time. A world he was convinced stole his happiness and replaced it with the shackles of a blood-driven afterlife, for no other reason than because he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and met the wrong person. But now, he feels like he’s in the right place, at the right time, spending it with the right person— or at least a half-decent person— and he doesn’t want to let it slip between his fingers so soon. He wants to bask in it, even if he knows it’ll pass. 

And eventually, it does pass, and Y/N is the one who brings it to an end. 

The girl slowly peels away from Harry’s side, his lips dipping downwards slightly at the loss of the warmth she radiates. He thinks she’s about to get up to probably go use the bathroom or to make breakfast, but instead, she just bends her upper body over the edge of her bed to retrieve something from the floor. She comes back up with the box he’d brought her the evening before (which had ended up on the ground as a result of her bed rocking violently), setting it in the small space between their laps. She then returns to her place cuddled into his torso, looking up at him with an expression that Harry can only interpret as expecting. 

The vampire glances down at the container and then back up to Y/N’s face, raising his eyebrows curiously, voice tinged with comedy. “What did I say about bringing sex toys to the dinner table?”

Y/N stares up at him flatly for a second, fighting off a smile. “I just wanted to thank you again. It’s nice of you to bring me a present, even as strange as this one.” 

Harry sucks at his teeth, waving a hand dismissively, blinking down at her with slyness sparkling around his pupils. “What are friends for, if not for buying you vibrating finger gloves and then fucking you with them until you cry?”

Despite having been acquainted with Harry’s crude humor for three weeks now, it still manages to make Y/N’s cheeks sizzle. It could also be the fact that this is the first time Harry has openly accepted Y/N as a friend. It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned her name and that word in the same sentence, meaning that she can now shake a weight off her shoulders— a weight that had insisted he was only using her for sex, that he would eventually grow bored of her, and that he would throw her away once he was done. It’s good to know that’s not the case, and that the friendship aspect of their agreement is true to its name. 

“Right.” Y/N’s smile is full of so much genuine warmth, Harry feels like she could outshine the sun. “What are friends for, if not that. Thanks, Harry.” 

He wonders what she’s thinking, and he finds himself wishing that he had the one valid trait that idiot Edward Cullen possesses: mind-reading. But he doesn’t have it, so he simply returns her gesture and skates the conversation how he best deems fit. “You don’t have to call me ‘Harry’ all the time, you know?” 

Y/N’s brows cinch in entertained confusion. “What would I call you, then? Sherlock?” 

Harry scoffs lightly at the inside joke, shrugging one shoulder casually. “I mean, you could, if you want to. It might take some getting used to, but I think I can shoulder a full-time second identity. Just for you.” 

“How chivalrous.”

“You ain’t ever met a man like me, sweetheart.” He boasts in an over-the-top American southern accent, prying another round of laughter from Y/N, similar to the one before. “But you could also just call me ‘H.’ It’s what most of my other friends use.” 

“H.” Y/N repeats, getting a taste for the new nickname. It’s simple, unlike him, but it somehow fits. She then recalls something from a show she’d watched when she was younger and she can’t help but bring it up. “So, like, just your first initial? Like in Gossip Girl?”

Harry’s face immediately drops at the comparison she makes to the cringey teenage soap opera. “You know what, I take it back. You’re not allowed to use it. Illegal. Banned. By an official court. Gavel and all.”

“I’m just making a point!”

“Yeah, a shitty one.” 

“Oh, whatever. You’re just mad I debunked your little hipster alter ego. ‘That’s a secret I’ll never tell. Xoxo, H.’”

“Restraining order.” Harry pinches at one of her love handles, an evil grin dimpling his cheeks when she squeals. “Actually, nevermind. We’re going straight to the electric chair. Immediately.” 

“You don’t get to decide my punishment, remember?” Y/N slaps at his wrists, trying to ward off his attacks but failing miserably. “You’re just the—stop!— just the executioner.” 

“That’s right. I get to strap you to the chair.” Harry finally lets up on the tickling, his lighthearted grin taking on a slightly seductive hue as he momentarily glimpses upwards towards where his belt is hanging. “Though you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck off.” Y/N smothers her palm against his face, breaking eye contact as she feels her ears bristle with heat.  

“Mm, exactly.” Harry gnashes at her hand playfully, but she manages to yank it away before he gets a bite in. “You can’t even admit you like being called a whore.” 

“Hey!”

“What?” The vampire gives her a cocky look, wagging his head knowingly and then mimicking her voice in a higher pitch. “‘I’m just making a point!’”

“You’re a dick, you really are.” 

“And yet you still ride mine, so who’s the one with the real issues here? Specifically, daddy issues.”

“I’m done with this conversation.” Y/N huffs, returning her attention to the box beside her thigh, muffling the twitching across her lips. 

She takes the cardboard into her hands, tracing over the small flap used to pry the top open. Harry watches her with interest, pondering as to what could possibly be scurrying around her skull that she seems so caught up with the context of the gift. He’d gotten it because he knew they would both benefit from it. It’s as simple as that. 

“You know,” she starts, but her gaze remains glued to the box, “I feel kinda bad ‘cause, like...You got me this gift, I have nothing to give you in return.” 

Harry’s face contorts into a silly frown for a moment, tone humorous. “It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t have to give me anything back. I got it ‘cause I knew we’d enjoy using it together, and because this way, you have something to play with when I’m not around. And you can send me videos of said instances. It’s truly a win-win. A double-ended gift.” 

“I suppose.” She mumbles softly, continuing to pick at the lip of cardboard sticking out. “But I feel like it’s only fair that you get to use it, too, don’t you think?”

And then the reason she’s insistent about this dawns on Harry. The way she’s avoiding looking at him directly, how her heart rate is slowly ebbing upwards, how she is gradually scooting closer to his body, how he can feel her thighs are clasped tightly below the comforter. How the scent of honey and lavender has intensified. How she keeps glancing towards where the sheets are crumpled messily around his hips in a haphazard attempt to remain civil. 

When the monster speaks, it carries all the arrogance brought forward by his discovery. “If you wanna give me a handjob with the toy on, just say so.” 

The human’s head snaps upwards, her expression one of utter alarm at his lewd comment, but he can see right through her act. It’s obvious that was her intention all along— the desire in her eyes is poorly masked. She looks so adorable, pretending not to know what he’s referring to, her palms gripping the box slightly tighter than before. 

Harry twirls a strand of her hair around his finger nonchalantly, giving it a jesting tug. “I just find it funny how much of a horny menace you can be.”

“What—?”

“And it’s not even ten A.M. yet.”

“What do you—?” 

“Y/N,” Harry sighs tiredly, giving her an omniscient look, “I’ve slept with you enough times to know when you want something. It’s written all over your body language and you’re pretty shit at hiding it in your eyes. Just admit you want to and I’ll let you.” 

The faux shock slowly melts off her face, replaced by sheepish humiliation at being so easily sussed out. She chews on her bottom lip pensively, struggling to sew together the appropriate words to communicate the very inappropriate activity she wants to engage in. Harry has to withhold from leaning down and taking a bite from her tempting mouth.  

She inhales a deep breath through her nose, puffing it out slowly and tapping her fingers across the box nervously. Her voice pipes up so softly, it’s almost inaudible. “I want to give you a handjob with the toy.”

Harry gently cards his fingers into the mussed roots along the back of her head, using that hold to guide her sight upwards until it meets his. He leans down, smearing his lips over her own, feeling static pass through the ridges of their skin. “That’s all you had to say, darling. Go ahead, then. Make me cum.” 

Y/N swallows thickly, lashes fluttering bashfully as she pastes her mouth to his in a soft kiss. It’s a simple action with just their lips and nothing else. No tongue, no teeth, no sucking, nothing sloppy or desperate— not yet, anyways. He can tell she does it as a way to ease herself into this. She wants to, that much is arousingly obvious, but for some crazy reason unbeknownst to him, she’s still shy about it. That’s what happens when you come from a conservative raising: you get intimacy issues. He of all people— with his Victorian era background— would know. 

The hand Harry has cupping the nape of her neck shifts over a smidge, ending up splayed across the side of her face. His palm rests on her cheekbone and his fingers in her locks, his wrist cradling the back of her skull as he patiently deepens the kiss. His chest begins to heave slightly, a familiar sensation already frothing at the trench of his stomach. Harry can feel Y/N’s clumsy movements as she unboxes the vibrators, digging through the packaging and trying to slip them on blindly, not wanting to break away from his embrace. The way he’s flirting his tongue along the inside of her top lip is just too consuming to leave. 

After a few seconds of grappling and a string of annoyed curse words, Harry giggles lightly into her mouth, nudging the tip of his nose across the bridge of hers. The jade tint in his irises is waltzing with amusement, all at her expense. “Sometime today, love.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I just— I can’t— they won’t—” The mortal releases an irritated growl into their kiss, reluctantly splitting away when it becomes clear she won’t be able to get the rubber gloves on without giving the task her full attention. “God, I’m such a...Sorry.” 

Harry rolls his eyes in mirth, pecking sweetly along the angry creases present over her forehead and between her brows. He thumbs over her cheek affectionately to soothe her nerves, his other hand scratching distractedly at the back of his neck. He filters curls through his fingers as he waits, bicep jolting in the process. “It’s fine, I’m just teasing. I’m not going anywhere, babe.”

“Thanks. Just give me—” The girl pauses her actions for a second, jutting her chin back up towards him and locking the vampire into another quick kiss, solely for the purpose of keeping him interested while she figures herself out. She breaks away again, returning to her mission. “Just give me a minute.” 

Now that she can see, Y/N successfully wriggles all five of her fingers into their designated molds. She prods at them gingerly, copying Harry’s actions from the night prior, using that experience as a manual. The mini-vibrators purr to life, a buzzing sensation trickling down her fingers. She glances back up at an awaiting Harry, who gives her such an easy, good-natured smile, she instantly reaches up and glues their mouths together again. 

“You’re so eager.” The boy grins into the kiss, jumping a bit when he feels her tittering fingers duck beneath the covers around his lower torso. “It’s hot.” 

“I just want to make you feel good.” Y/N mumbles, one palm braced to his strong shoulder as the other rides down his bare abdomen. She can feel his grip on her hair tightening the closer she gets to his cock. “That’s all.” 

“Guess I’m just the luckiest— shit.” Harry’s quip is interrupted when Y/N wraps her digits around his length, giving it one slow, testing pump. His jaw drops open and he begins panting into her mouth, the corners of his lips ticking upwards into a smirk as an intense pleasure swells between his thick thighs. “Jesus fucking Christ, that feels— fuck, that’s incredible, oh my God.”

“Yeah?” The human asks timidly, gazing up at him dreamily from below her lashes as his eyes lull back into his head. “Not too much?” 

Harry loves how attentive she is— how she’s checking to make sure he’s alright before continuing. If he had a heart, it would surely be glowing right now. 

Harry gulps down the lump in his throat, voice more strained and needy than she’s ever heard it. “No, I’m good, I’m good. Keep going.” 

Y/N gradually sinks her palm back down to his base, feeling his cock twitch desperately as the vibrators work their magic. She slowly slinks back up to his tip, thumbing over it carefully, pressing the toy on her thumb pad right over his slit. The garbled moan that emits from Harry is a sound her ears will never forget. It’s a sound she wishes she could record and listen to on a loop. 

“Fucking hell, don’t— please, just— oh—” Harry stutters through a plead, voice bleeding, naked chest now heaving wildly against her own. His hips buck forward into her hand, but she maintains a steady grip, keeping the vibrator pressed to the center of his cock’s head. 

“Don’t what?” She whispers into his mouth, suckling at his Cupid’s bow and reveling in the little broken noises he pours onto her tongue. 

Harry’s breaths are shallow and pained, the grip on her hair stronger than she thought possible as the fingers of his opposite hand yank at his own feverishly. He’s barely able to choke out his next sentence. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Y/N begins to fish for a solid rhythm, her strokes setting into medium pace and gauging the receiver's reaction. “How’s that?” 

Bright colors web across Harry’s eyelids and he feels like his soul is being torn from his body. “Y-Yeah, that’s perfect, baby. It’s so good— you’re so good.” 

“I am?” Y/N swipes her thumb over his tip again, and when he whimpers brokenly against her lips, she does it again. It urges the same exact reaction, but more shattered. So she does it again. And again, and again, and again. And each time it happens, his hips jerk more violently, chasing her intoxicating touch. She can feel Harry’s precum drip down his length and leak between the cracks of her fingers. 

“You are, you’re just so fucking good to me.” Harry’s spewing words at this point, brain half conscious, half floating in bliss. Whatever dam of common sense holds his mind together crumbles, all of his thoughts rushing out in the form of jumbled phrases and cracked whines. “You get me going like nothing else, pet. You get me going so easily, it’s embarrassing. You make me cum so hard, it feels like I’m touching h-heaven. And your mouth— God, y-your mouth. It’s the best I’ve ever had. It’s so soft and warm, and your lips are so pretty and silky. I could kiss you for hours. And your tongue— you know how to use it so well. You lick me once and I’m already on edge. And every time you get down on your knees, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Y/N sighs shakily at Harry’s string of confessions, staring up at him with wide eyes as his own stay shut loosely, long lashes perched on his rosy cheekbones, handsome features slack with euphoria. She doesn’t halt her motions, continuing to pump him excitedly. The girl passes her thumb over his tip every time she gets to the top, and gives a hard squeeze every time she thunks down against his base, twisting her wrist as she glides back and forth between the two points of reference. That combination seems to work well, evident in the steady stream of vulgarities falling from Harry’s swollen lips as he thrusts upwards to match her pace. His groans splash across her tongue, traveling down her throat and burning into her stomach. She wants him to cum probably more than he does.

Y/N glimpses down, watching her sheets tent as she works Harry over, the outline of her knuckles pressing into the turquoise fabric. It’s such an erotic scene and she knows it’ll be branded across the front of her brain for years to come. She cranes her neck back up to look at the vampire, her breath catching in her lungs. He looks so pretty with his dark pink lips parted in pleasure, his damp ringlets matting along his sweaty hairline, his structured jaw ticking, and his usually sharp traits softened by ecstasy. She’ll do anything to make that image last.  

“Tell me more.” Y/N murmurs, swimming in the praise he is so willing to dish out. 

His eyes flicker for a heartbeat and in that instance, they look oddly darker than normal. Almost crimson, but she knows it’s due to the shadow of his lashes. The words that spill from his mouth next make her forget all about that occurrence, his voice melodic and dark, sticky against her wet lips. 

“Your hands are one of my favorite things about you, I think. They’re smaller than mine and I love how your fingers don’t touch when you wrap them around my cock. I love how they leave my back raw with scratches, and I love how they look tied to the bedpost. I love it when they press flat against my chest when you ride me, and how you lean back on them when I’m on my knees with my head between your thighs. I love how they yank at my hair when you’re about to cum, and how they grip my upper arms when we make-out. I love how your nails dig into my thighs when you're going down on me, and how they look fisting at the sheets when I’m taking you from behind. And I love how they feel tugging me off, like you’re doing now. I just love how perfect they are— how perfect you are.” 

Y/N is left speechless, Harry’s monologue ringing in her heated ears as he gazes at her intensely amidst heavy, barely-cracked eyelashes. His broad chest gasps for air and he takes it upon himself— despite his wrecked appearance— to smush their mouths deeper together, pooling moans across the roof of her own.  

“I’m—” His breathing throttles, voice coming out softer than she’s heard it in the last three weeks. “I’m gonna cum.”

Y/N nods her head numbly, strokes becoming lazy and fast, eager for him to finish. “I want you to. I want you to cum for me so bad. Please?” 

Harry’s hips writhe in a tell-tale sign that he’s about to tip. His whimper tastes sweet on her tongue, the meaning behind it pure syrup to her ego. “You’re the only one who makes me feel this good.”

The mortal whines gently in return, eyes falling shut as she feels him grow heavier in her palm. “You’re the only one I want to make feel this good.” 

The knot of white hot pleasure in his belly begins to unravel, his entire spine shuddering as a result, all strain beginning to wash out of his system in spurts if blissful electricity. He can feel his orgasm racing up his prick, pulling his composure along with it. He gives one last jerk against Y/N’s cupped fingers, feeling her press her vibrating thumb over his slit one more time for good measure. When the first milky ribbon spurts out, that’s when he feels it. 

Harry’s eyelids fly open in alarm as black veins protrude along the whites of his eyes, all his muscles contracting at once, defense mode activated. Y/N’s lips are on his neck. 

His first instinct is to do what he always does and guide her away from that sensitive, highly forbidden area. His fist tightens in her hair and he’s about to yank her back up to his mouth when suddenly, the icy tension present in his veins disappears. It’s replaced by a soothing warmth, which travels through every crevice in his body and kindles his climax, his impulsive hatred for being touched in that specific region funneling away completely. He can’t remember a time where this has happened before. 

Harry’s grip loosens hesitantly as he treads into this unexplored territory, allowing her to continue suckling along his throat. The sensation would usually garner a reaction similar to that of a molten metal brand being placed on his skin, but now— for some startling reason— he doesn’t feel any contempt. He just feels relaxed and cradled in the best way imaginable. The impact is pleasant this time around, and he finds himself wanting more of it. So, he lets her give him more. He lets this strange girl kiss and gasp and lick against his jugular while she finishes getting him off, his own desperate sounds of need bouncing around the brick walls of her bedroom. He lets her coax wave after wave of cum out of him, feeling it splatter against her bedspread and coat over her hand. He whines and grunts into the hair along the crown of her head, tears blearing his eyes as her scent of sugar and flowers clouds his mind. And when his release finally sputters to an end, he lets out an elongated groan so deep, it makes his chest ache.

“Fuck. You’re...You’re an absolute angel.”

Y/N draws her hand out from beneath the bed sheets, turning off the vibrating finger pads by pressing them against her palm. She looks down at the milky substance covering the toys and before Harry can make even a sound of encouragement, she’s already licking it off each individual piece. The girl looks up at the vampire as she cleans every trace of him off her fingers, swallowing it all down with a doe-like tint across her hazy gaze and murmuring a soft, “You taste good.” over a full mouth. Harry just watches silently, heavy breathing slowly starting to even out. God, she really is such a fucking godsend.

The next couple of minutes list by in a blur, all of his focus taken up by the feeling of unsettlement pricking at the back of his brain. Why had he let her touch him there? Why had he let her touch him in a place no one has since before his death?

Y/N puts the toys back in their box, putting them off to the side to thoroughly clean later. She reaches down, bunching up her bedspread in her hand and wiping Harry’s pelvis, thighs, and tummy down until he’s decently clean, as well as whatever is left on her hand. She then snuggles up to his side once again, laying her head into the crook between his arm and pectoral muscles, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully along with him. The irritating red tint across Harry’s chest, stomach, and neck gradually fades away, and he barely flinches when he feels her sponge her lips against his Adam’s Apple. She lulls the tip of her middle finger up along the vein of his cock one more time for finality, smiling slyly when he hisses in sensitivity.

The immortal tilts his head down to appraise her, sniffling lightly and allowing a weak, watery smile across his raw lips. His tone is feathery and detached. “That was…Christ.”

Y/N giggles softly, nodding along to his unspoken opinion. “It was fun. Really fun. We should do it again sometime.” 

Harry splutters into a drunken laugh, mind still floating around the room. “I don’t think I could survive that again.”

Y/N grins up at him cheekily. “Pussy.” 

Her friend breaks into an expression of utter offense, cheeks still slightly rosy. He shoves her head roughly as vengeance. “Hey! Piss off. Don’t blame it on me, blame it on the male anatomy.” 

The girl shakes her head up at him, eyebrows shrugging mockingly. “Excuses, excuses.” 

“Whatever.” 

A moment passes, and then Y/N speaks up again, her index finger poking playfully into the center of his bare chest, right over the butterfly tattoo. “Also, you’re washing my sheets. Your mess, you clean it up.”

Harry grins against her forehead, scratching lightly at the back of her scalp. “Fair enough…Wait, is that why you wanted to do this? ‘Cause you knew I’d soil your sheets and you could force me to do your laundry?”

That hadn’t been her motive at all, and Harry knows that, but she plays along anyways for the hell of the joke. “Perhaps.” 

“Wow. I feel used.” 

“Too bad. Go do it. Now. Before it stains.”

Harry stares at her like she’s sprouted a second head. “I literally can’t walk right now! I can’t feel anything below my waist.”

Y/N lifts the comforter off her body, symbolically showing off the bruises his fingertips and rings had left the night before. “Well, neither can I!” 

Harry reaches down and touches the marks, chuckling to himself. “How unfortunate. Who’s gonna make breakfast, then, if neither of us can even stand?”

“We could UberEats some iHop.” 

“Who’s gonna get the door?”

“Well, I can’t solve everything on my own, now can I?!” Y/N slaps his hand away from her body. “Contribute! You’re the lead detective, after all.” 

“I am, aren’t I?” Harry cocks his head to the side in recollection, remembering his role in their imaginary dynamic duo scenario. “And because I’m the lead, I say…” He ropes his lean arms around the human and buries his face into her warm neck, pulling her close and intertwining their legs together, trapping her to the mattress along with him. “I say we just bum around for a bit longer. Just until one of us can actually muster up the strength to leave the bed.” 

Y/N makes an exasperated noise in the back of her throat, but makes no apparent attempt to leave his embrace. “Fine.” 

“Mystery solved, then! Elementary, my dear Watson.”

“You’re so dumb.” 

The pair stay cuddled for a bit, with Y/N’s hands loosely gripping Harry’s forearms, tracing across his mermaid tattoo absently. She wanders in her thoughts for a period of time, lost in the sensation of Harry’s warm breath fanning down her neck, his hot lips pressing small kisses behind her ear every once in a while. She likes their morning after routine; it’s innocent and fun and sharing moments like this makes it easy to forget her troubles. She wants more of this, and she finds herself trying to come up with ways to convince Harry to spend the night more often. This is only the fourth time he’s stayed until morning and she wants that number to grow. 

An idea dawns on her and she’s voicing it before her inhibitions can kill it off.

“Do you...Do you maybe wanna stay over the rest of the weekend?”

Harry draws his face from the alcove of her soft neck, eyebrows poised in curiosity. “The rest of the weekend?”

“Yeah!” Y/N shifts her gaze up to look at him, hope swirling around her pupils. “Like, spend the rest of today and tomorrow over, and then leave tomorrow night ‘cause I have work on Monday. Does that, like...Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” Harry says slowly, mulling over her offer, thinking back to his schedule. He doesn’t think he has any commitments this weekend that would require him being home— none he can’t cancel easily, anyways. He’d told Mitch he’d go see him play again at the pub later today, but it’s the same set as last time, so he doesn’t think his best friend would mind if he missed it just this once. Niall was planning a barbecue at his place on Sunday, but the Irish bloke does one almost every other week so it’s nothing Harry can’t make up. Plus, what type of idiot would pass up two day’s worth of amazing sex? The more, the merrier.

Y/N watches the vampire’s expression carefully, trying to interpret whether her request was out of their boundaries. She doesn’t want to make him feel like she’s trying to tie him down or suffocate him, she just wants to spend a bit more time in his presence, rather than through a phone screen. Her tone comes out dismissive, with just the tiniest hint of panic. “It’s okay if you can’t, though. Like, if you have other plans and stuff, I totally get it. Or if you just don’t want to, that’s fine, too! I just thought it’d be a fun little thing we can do since we already talk so much on the phone and everything, so I guess I just kinda figured you wouldn’t mind—”

“I get it, Y/N.” Harry interrupts Y/N’s unhinged word vomit, voice amused and nonchalant. “I think I’d like that, yeah.”

Y/N blinks in giddy surprise. “Really?” 

“Well, don’t sound so shocked.” Harry laughs lightly, fingers toying with the pearls laying across his clavicle. “The sex is pretty fucking good and I’m more than happy to have it at my disposal.” 

“Right.” Y/N gives him a deadpan look, shaking her head at his bluntness, reaching forward to fiddle with the chain of his cross necklace for the sake of having something to distract her from smiling like a fool. “Great, then. I have some old boxers that I know will probably fit you and an unopened pack of toothbrushes under the sink, so I think you’re set.” 

Harry’s lips purse at the mention of the men’s underwear, brows creasing a tad. “You just casually have men’s boxers laying around?” 

“They were my ex’s and I kept them out of spite. But don’t tell anyone, I don’t wanna get locked up for robbery.” 

The tightness in his chest— which he hadn’t even realized had formed— melts away. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good, or else I’d have to kill you.” The girl states darkly, a theatrical seriousness to her appearance. 

“Oh no.” Harry wails sarcastically, knotting a fist into her oversized tee and pulling her closer, connecting their lips and grinning into the kiss. “I’m shaking in fear.” 

Y/N gives in without much of a fight, hands still clinging to his forearms, a smile of her own creeping across her cheeks. “Asshole.”

“The only thing I’m relatively afraid of is my dick falling off. You have the sexual drive of a rabbit.” 

“Oh, like you’re any better?” 

“I’m innocent in all this! You’re usually the one instigating. I’m just a mere pawn— a poor, unsuspecting nun led astray.”

“God, I can’t believe I let you fuck me.” 

///

The following weekend, Harry officially invites Y/N over to his house. 

It had been talked about in passing a while back, and he figures it's only fair considering all the time they’ve ever spent together has been solely at her place. Plus, he could tell she was curious to see what his living situation is like, which is valid. You can tell a lot about people through their home, and when you’re sleeping with someone on the regular, you want to learn as much about them as possible. It’s important to know who you’re getting into bed with. Literally. 

Harry’s proud of his condo. He keeps it clean, he keeps it organized, and he keeps it styled in a manner that combines his Victorian gothic roots with modern day aesthetics. The floorboards of the apartment are made of waxed light-wash wood, most of the expanse of his living room covered in a furry dark grey rug. The lightness of the ground is contrasted by the matte mahogany walls, of which the largest is covered in Harry’s collection of first edition artwork. He had picked out every single piece himself throughout the span of the last two centuries, ranging from modern digital technique canvases to nineteenth century oil paintings, all arranged in neat alternating rows from oldest to newest. He can’t help that he’s such a stickler; his mom had raised him so. 

Though his art wall is his pride and joy, the glass wall that overlooks the city skyline comes in at a close second. Harry loves the city, despite the fact that he was born in a seemingly irrelevant town whose only redeeming quality was the bustling public market. Urban regions are just full of so much life, excitement, and potential, which are all concepts he never really got to explore before he transitioned. Cities represent everything he wanted as a young man, when he thought he had prosperous years ahead of him and an entire life left to build; they represent diversity, unique experiences, and endless possibilities. When that was stripped from him, he began to bounce around different countries and cities all over the world, seeking a place that would fill the hole his dreams had left behind. Los Angeles fit that space like a puzzle piece. 

That glorified window just means more to him than anyone could possibly know. Sometimes at night, he’ll just stand by it with his arms relaxed across his chest, watching the city gleam and glitter as individuals from all different backgrounds go about their business, blissfully ignorant to the beautiful concept that they all contribute to something much bigger— a concept that only centuries of wisdom could reveal. When he’s not wracked with jealousy and spite, looking out that window and witnessing the world change and evolve is therapeutic, in a way. It allows Harry to live vicariously through others who get to have what he never did. 

Aside from his art collection and the glass wall, the chandeliers that hang from his cavernous ceiling are third on his list of treasured possessions. They’re special and no one on this earth owns anything like them; Harry made sure of that. They were created by a Swedish interior designer Harry commissioned about ten years ago, so they are custom-made in every aspect of the term. They took months to construct and finalize, which is hardly difficult to believe, given their grandeur. Each chandelier is made of two extensive layers of delicate golden chains, all arranged around a wire center, connected by light bulbs at each peak. It gives his home a chic, avant-garde atmosphere that mirrors his personality down to the last chain link. 

The rest of his flat is tailored to compliment these three major determining factors. The wood paneling all around his apartment is carved with intricate, loopy designs, his two rounded coffee tables are made of the same marble that resides across his kitchen counters, and his kitchen sits directly under the second story ledge with elongated fluorescent poles embedded into the room’s ceiling, eloquently highlighting the creme walls and polished detailings of all his appliances. His sectional couches are made of an off-brown leather, covered in large rectangular couch cushions with a checkered print embroidered across the pillow cases, and weighted fleece blankets litter some areas of the elegant sofas. A wide staircase leads up to the second floor, made of grey glass steps and metal railings. 

The top story of his condo is less Victorian era, more modern composition. The ground is dark maroon carpeting, and the ledge leads to one singular corridor that splits into two seperate rooms at either ends. One is the master bedroom, and the other is an accompanying bedroom which he uses for storage. His room isn’t anything extravagant, per se. It’s big, but his decor is minimalistic, covered in all different muted shades of blacks and greys, from the comforter on his king-sized bed to the tall dresser. A fifty inch flat-screen is mounted on the wall, but he hardly uses it since the one in his living room is larger; it’s only really there as an ornament. Starburst lights hang from his ceiling— smaller, downplayed versions of his chandeliers— and his walk-in closet stands parallel to the entrance of his bathroom. 

The humongous bathroom was meant for two people, pretty obvious in the double-sink set up, but he doesn’t dwell on it much. He isn’t one for dating, and he’s just happy to have that luxury because it comes in handy the morning after one night stands. He has a jacuzzi-like bathtub, lined with water jets and all, and a big walk-in shower with a large overhead panel instead of a regular showerhead. The whole room is made of dark marble and porcelain, and he couldn’t possibly adore it more. Some of his best experiences had happened in this room, explicit and otherwise. 

In the end, Harry has every right to be arrogantly proud of his apartment. It had taken him months to decorate, years to fill with fond memories, and an immortal lifetime to find. He loves it with every trace of his soul, even when others disagree. Namely, Niall, who had mocked his sophisticated relics and old-timey architecture from the first time he’d set foot past the threshold; “You went the dark gothic route? Really? Way to feed into the stereotype, Dracula.” 

But no matter what anyone says, this is who he is, and he couldn’t be happier. After decades of migrating and aimlessly searching the globe, he’d finally found a place he could call home, and absolutely no one could take that from him. Especially not some Irish moron who doesn’t even know the definition of “foyer.”

How Harry manages to afford his flat is a whole other intriguing tale.

It had come up in a pillow talk conversation with Y/N once, and he had told her the story he feeds to any human who asks. He’s a regional manager for an offshore company and it’s mainly a lot of online work. Handling duties through business emails, videochat meetings, job portals, and things of the such. It paints a valid image as to why he’s home all the time. He also claims to be the company’s lone contact stationed in California, so he handles all of the responsibilities that would normally be bestowed upon three or four people. This paints a valid explanation as to how his imaginary position would tether such a high pay grade, which justifies his luxurious living arrangement.

That story is part of the truth. Harry does indeed have ties with corporate businesses. That is, ties to their CEOs’ pockets. It’s surprisingly easy to get past secretaries and security dressed in a nice suit and thousand dollar leather shoes, especially with the help of compulsion and Harry’s golden charisma. Thanks to those tools, he has managed to convince some of the biggest leaders in corporate California to quietly deposit generous sums of money into his bank account once a month. And with his persuasive supernatural abilities, he convinces them to write it off as regularly scheduled charity donations in their minds. That’s how he makes a living for himself— by scamming the rich. Xander likes to take the piss and call him a sugar baby, but Harry sees himself as more of a modern day Robin Hood, instead. 

Mitch says his charade is unlawful, but considering how corrupt the business world already is, the vampire feels next to no guilt. The one percent have always taken advantage of those poorer than them— that was obvious even back in Harry’s time— and he doesn’t see anything wrong with taking advantage of them right back, now that he has the means to. How’s that saying go? “Fuck the bourgeoisie” and all that. 

Everything taken into consideration, Harry’s pretty excited to show Y/N his condo. Watching people’s faces break into awe the second he turns the lights on always gives him such a deep surge of satisfaction. It makes all the hassle worth it.  

The immortal is currently sitting in his vintage car, flicking through his Spotify playlist to find something to entertain him while he waits for Y/N to finish her shift. He had offered to pick her up, knowing that it’s what any courteous host would do, and she had appreciatively accepted, telling him she’d be out by eight P.M. It’s seven fifty-three now and Harry had arrived around seven fifty, taking the slot right in front of the cafe’s entrance so she can spot him as soon as she walks out. These ten minutes are the longest he’s ever had to endure, which says a lot considering he’s endured tons of patience-testing moments in his two hundred years.

Harry swipes his thumb down the glass screen of his phone, sampling songs left and right to see what will stick. After listening to the first few chords of an array of forties dance music, seventies rock and roll, and twenty-first century bubblegum pop, he settles for Rodeo by Lil Nas X. Harry has a very intricate taste in music— it’s one of the traits he’s most proud of— and Mitch often tells him he’s too snotty when it comes to his preferences. He’ll admit it freely that, yes, he can be a piece of work musically, but just because he thinks the industry peaked in the seventies doesn’t mean he hates modern music. He likes most of it, including rap, and Lil Nas X happens to be one of his favorites, much to everyone’s surprise. Most of the artist’s songs are eccentric not only lyrically but also instrumentally, to the point where it’s almost comical— who names a song Panini, of all things?— but the music is catchy and Harry can let loose to it easily. 

The vampire also happened to meet the musician, on one occasion. He ran into him at a club and after a few drinks and some banter, somehow ended up getting invited over to a party at the celebrity’s Malibu mansion. That night is a blur, definitely due to the copious amounts of alcohol and psychedelics, but Harry remembers they had fun and that the guy was worth a listen. In fact, he was the genius that came up with the theme for the rapper’s Rodeo music video. 

A light knocking on the passenger’s seat window brings him out of his memories. Y/N stands outside, hugging her arms loosely over her tummy, decked in her usual work uniform of a navy polo and black skinny jeans. When the two lock eye contact, she gives him a soft wave and a tired smile. Harry lifts two fingers in greeting, returning her polite gesture and swiftly lowering the window. He leans forward across the center console, his grin taking on a playful hue, voice carrying the same effect. 

“Uber for Y/N?” 

The girl snorts and rolls her eyes, but plays along, reaching forward and jiggling the handle of his black Cadillac symbolically. “That’s me, yes. Open up.” 

“Eh, eh, eh.” Harry tuts, wagging a finger in her direction and then making a motion that tells her to back away. “I’m gonna have to see some ID. It’s one of our new safe driver policies. Gotta make sure you are who you say you are, miss.” 

Y/N’s expression drops flatly, eyes half-lidded as he smiles up at her brightly, batting his eyelashes innocently. “Open the door before you end up sucking your own dick tonight.” 

Harry’s shit-eating face falls so fast, it causes her to burst into laughter. A soft click vibrates through the handle below her fingers. “I’ll waive the background check. Just this once.”  

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Y/N taunts, yanking the door open and ducking into the shotgun seat, gently tugging it closed behind her. 

Once the human is situated in her spot, she releases a lengthy sigh, sinking down against the cushions as she grabs her seat belt and clicks it into place. 

Harry puts his cell phone down into the cubby hole below the stereo set, setting the car in reverse and slinging an arm behind her headrest to get a better view as he backs out of the parking space. His gaze momentarily flickers to her slumped form as the car retreats slowly, tone curious. “Long day?”

Y/N glimpses over, giving him a quick once-over and taking in his olive green Nike jumper, ripped denim boyfriend jeans, and pastel yellow Vans. He looks so boyishly cute, which is ironic given the premise of tonight’s rendezvous. The shoes (which he had worn the night they’d met all those weeks ago) and the position he’s in (perched above her with his sharp jaw and neck flexing as he cranes his torso to look for oncoming traffic) flashes her back to the first time she had been in his car. They had been way less acquainted, she had been much less relaxed, much more nervous, but the encounter very much carried the same exact intentions. That recollection makes her lips quirk a bit. The pair had grown so comfortable with each other since then, that Friday evening feels like it happened decades ago. 

“Yeah.” Y/N murmurs softly, gladly indulging a deep inhale of the vanilla and tobacco scent she had become familiar with, allowing it to soothe her nerves and wash away the stress of a hard day. “I’m just happy it’s over and that the weekend’s finally started. Wanna forget all about it.” 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, love!” Harry plops back into his seat, shifting his car into drive and gifting her his famous brilliant smile, dimples winking to life as he taps his ringed fingers across his steering wheel humorously. “I’ve made you forget your name plenty of times before; I’m pretty sure I can erase one shitty work shift just fine.”

Y/N scoffs at his pompous claim, reaching up and prying the hair tie out of her locks, looping it over her wrist and shushing her stiff roots. She tucks strands behind her ears, the corners of her mouth twitching in endearment at the giddiness of his aura. “Just drive, Sherlock.” 

The mortal isn’t surprised to find that building in which the vampire lives is one of the tallest in the city, and that it’s basically smack in the center, as well. One look at Harry and anybody could immediately tell he thrives off being the center of attention, so of course his home is a direct reflection of that. Refined boy, refined personality, refined environment. It’s practically a law of science. 

Once Harry’s car is parked and the ignition rumbles to a smooth stop, Y/N unbuckles her seat belt and goes to unlock the passenger’s side door. Right as her hand is wrapping around the handle bar, the door swings open of its own accord and she just barely manages to stifle a blood-curdling scream full of shocked fear. When her eyes focus, Harry is standing there holding the door open for her, features painted with cocky amusement. 

“How did you—?” The girl whips around to look at the empty driver’s seat, eyebrows cinching in bewilderment as she turns back to face him. “How did you get around so fast?” 

Harry shrugs his shoulders offhandedly, reaching one bejeweled hand down to aid her out of the vehicle. “I did track when I was younger. Made me a fast walker.” 

Y/N hesitantly takes it, body language still slightly tense from the jump scare. With his help, she gradually climbs out, the door shutting behind her as she sweeps her sight around the parking garage in wonder. This is the first time Harry has ever invited her anywhere, let alone to where he spends most of his life. She doesn’t want to miss a thing. Even the simplest aspect can tell you a lot about a person. 

Y/N jerks a tad when she feels her friend’s cold fingers slipping down her palm, sifting between her own. She glances down at their intertwined hands for a second, a warm glow bursting through her chest. She’s always admired how his are so much bigger. 

Harry tugs her forward toward the elevator at the other end of the parking lot, bottom lip caught between his teeth in a sly smirk. “C’mon, Watson. Let me show you around.” 

Y/N stumbles after him, allowing the boy to guide her to where she needs to go as he weeds through cars effortlessly. She suddenly chimes up from behind, asking a random question to fill the leftover silence their footsteps spare. “That car next to yours had such a weird license plate. What the fuck does ‘craic’ mean?” 

Harry chuckles knowingly, perfectly aware of whose car she is referring to. “It’s this odd thing Irish people say. Utter rubbish, honestly.” 

A comfortable quietness fills the air of the elegant elevator as it shoots up towards the twenty-fourth floor of the skyscraper, the only other sound being the gentle lullaby of a nameless tune wafting through the speakers above their heads. Harry finds himself studying Y/N as she looks out at the city through the glass walls, the lights of the exterior buildings casting a beautiful buttery gleam across her relaxed characteristics, along with a radiant glint over the surface of her glossy eyes. Despite the slightly smeared mascara staining her waterline and the inherent frizziness her hair carries after being pulled into a tight ponytail all day, Harry finds that she looks nice. Pretty, even. 

The girl senses him staring, craning her head to return his gaze, the edges of her lips lilting upwards lightheartedly. He returns the gesture, peeling away to focus on something— anything— else. He deems the control panel a worthy replacement.

As the numbers on the dial drag by, Harry finds himself absentmindedly thumbing over Y/N’s knuckles. She doesn’t seem to notice or mind, so he continues doing it, massaging the crest of each bump and pressing down gently along the troughs. He enjoys the sensation of her silky warm skin heating his icy own, and he ponders whether she likes how cold his touch is, or if she hates it as much as he does. He expels that notion from his mind; he refuses to let such a stupid concept upset him. He just keeps caressing her hand, restraining his mind from ambling too far into its meaning. It’s just to pass the time. 

He keeps the movements going until their ride skates to a joltless halt with a sharp ding! and then he steps out, having to give his full attention to leading her down the long corridor to his flat. Y/N is so caught up in drinking up her surroundings, she almost bumps into the creature when he comes to an abrupt stop in front of the entrance of what she can only deduce is his home. Harry drops her hand, much to her disappointment, fishing into his back pocket for his keys. He patiently filters through his keychain, picking out the right one and working it into the lock, a soft click emitting from the mechanism. 

Harry pushes the door open with his palm, standing off to the side just outside the threshold and tilting his head towards it, posture bowing slightly. “Ladies first.” 

Y/N thanks him quietly, taking a cautious step forward into his hallway. She can’t help the way her heart skips a beat at his gentlemanly tendencies; she rarely meets anyone as respectful as Harry seems to be and she finds his old-timey attributes to be refreshing. Helping her out the car, taking her hand to guide her through the parking lot, rubbing at her knuckles innocently, holding the door open for her— it’s all such an archaic form of chivalry she wishes she’d see more often these days. She doesn’t know if it’s a British thing, if he had just been raised like that, or if he simply does it to get laid, but she’s thankful for it either way. 

With one last glance at her friend over her shoulder, she begins wandering down the dark narrow path unsurely. The sound of the door slinking shut behind her and Harry’s footsteps ease her. 

She stops once she senses the corridor open up into a larger space, which she guesses is his living room. A soft gasp escapes her at the sight before her. The whole area is washed in darkness, the only source of light stemming from the large glass pane that stretches from the floor of the apartment to its tall ceiling. Dozens of buildings and cars glimmer below, the breath-taking image of the lively city looking almost like a snapshot from a professional movie. It’s absolutely gorgeous and she feels like she could stare at it for eons. 

A chilly hand suddenly presses along the dip of her spine, ushering her forward an inch or two, Harry’s invisible voice and warm breath hitting the shell of her left ear. “S’cuse me, dove.”   

The boy reaches behind her for the light switch and the condo bursts into radiance with one simple flick of his wrist. 

“Oh...my God.”

Harry’s home is something straight out of a luxury catalogue. The light floorboards and the mahogany panels. The massive leather couches and hand-sewn cushions. The extravagant chandeliers and glass staircase. The marble kitchen and generously packed liquor shelves. The ginormous wall of priceless artwork, littered with pieces from all different eras of history. It feels like stepping into a decor wonderland.

“Not too bad, huh?” Harry pipes up playfully, anchoring her back into reality from the floaty stupor that had consumed her mind. 

“Not too—? Are you kidding?” Y/N sputters incredulously, whizzing her head to the side sharply. “You were keeping an entire Four Seasons royal suite from me?!”

Harry belts out a bundle of childish giggles, the edges of his eyes crinkling and the tip of his button nose twitching. “I never thought of it much, to be honest. I’d grown to like your place.” 

“Right. Because a creaky mattress and a kitchen the size of a broom closet is so much more satisfying than chandeliers and a fucking glass wall.”

The vampire glimpses around his flat indicatively. “Okay, I see your point.”

“Exactly.” 

Y/N drifts forward, running the tips of her fingers across the backrest of the aged leather sofa and along the corners of the throw pillow, doing a slow circle at the middle of his home, taking everything in a second time around to make sure it isn’t a mirage. “Fuck, this is incredible. Is your boss looking for any more regional managers, by any chance?”

Harry follows after her, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his boyfriend jeans, chewing along the inside of his cheek to suppress a proud smile— a result of her explosive reaction. “I’m afraid my position is the one and only, sorry.”

Y/N droops her shoulders in exaggerated contempt, presenting a shitty English accent to tease him. “Bollocks.”

It garners the designated feedback, her tummy somersaulting at Harry’s exorbitant laughter. 

The boy comes to stand before her, cocking his head to the side questioningly towards his kitchen. “Can I offer you a drink?”

Y/N glimpses over at his bar area, eyes dancing over his extensive array of fancy bottles. “Oh, please do.”

Despite only having known Y/N for a few weeks, Harry has gotten quite acquainted with her tastes, even outside of sexual matters. She doesn't like the taste of alcohol, but she likes its effects. And he likes them, too, if he’s being honest. Her blood always begins to smell more appetizing after just a few sips and the way her cheeks heat up so easily when she’s buzzed always makes his breathing trip. 

He works his extensive skills, pulling from his liquor cabinet and mixing flavored liquids and syrups until he comes up with something that he thinks the girl will enjoy. It’s fruity, with hints of peach, lime, and strawberry, but also warm and fulfilling, with a rich whiskey and a few dashes of bitters. He plunks in a couple of ice cubes and mixes it together with a bar spoon, tapping it against the rim with finality and swiping it over his tongue in a quick taste test. He’s pretty happy with his concoction. 

Harry glances up to where Y/N is leaning against the armrest of his couch, her legs crossed before her as she stares at one of the abstract paintings mounted on his wall. It’s an original, as are the rest of them, which he had purchased some odd seventy years ago from a barely known artist whose talent had gone to waste in the world. It’s a deconstructed sunflower, with the color palette inverted and the strokes of the brush uneven and jagged. Odd and complicated, but beautiful, nonetheless. Its complexity is what makes it significant. 

The vampire slowly wanders over from his kitchen, holding her drink in one hand and a cloth napkin in the other. He takes the spot beside her along the armrest, speaking wistfully as if recalling a fond memory. “It’s a flower.”

Y/N nods slowly in recognition, peeling her gaze away with the corners of her lips jilting. “Mmhm, a sunflower.”

Harry’s brows jump in shock. Barely anyone ever guesses the identity correctly. He’s found that as time passes and humanity becomes more reliant on technology rather than cognizant knowledge, society in general has reduced to a more pea-brained state than ever. As a result, the amount of people who can interpret and understand the meaning behind complex artwork has greatly diminished, unfortunately, so he’s pleasantly surprised to find that one of the few who still possesses that talent happens to be the girl he’s shagging. “Wow, that’s a first. It’s so unusual, no one ever really gets it.”

“I guess I just have an affinity for the unusual.” His guest quips, giving him a jesting shrug of her eyebrows and a suggestive grin. 

You have no idea.

“You underestimated me, Holmes.” 

“That I did. My sincerest apologies.” Harry returns her joking simper, proceeding to then dip an index finger inside the stout glass in his grasp, bringing it up before her face. “Taste.”

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N parts her lips and allows him to coax the wet digit in, the tangy flavor of the mixture making her taste buds tingle. She encloses her mouth around his finger, lulling her tongue along it slowly with a mischievous glint shining across her irises. 

Harry’s prominent jaw clenches as he watches the scene unfold, breath bated and a moan threatening to betray him. She truly wastes no time.

He gradually pulls his finger from her tongue, struggling to clear his throat, missing its texture already. “How is it? More syrup? More biters?”

Y/N gazes up at him drunkenly, though it’s definitely not from the liquor. Her lips quirk cheekily as a result of how visibly frazzled she’d gotten him. “It’s perfect. Better than anything I’ve had at a club, that’s for sure.” 

“Yeah?” Harry taps his opal ring against the bottom of the lowball glass, trying to reign in his previous composure. “Think I could be a bartender?” 

“You don’t hit me as the type of person who has the patience for it.” The girl remarks wittily, slinking her head to the side and biting back a giggle when Harry makes a face at her.

“You make a valid point, I suppose.” The vampire responds with an airy sigh, nodding in surrender. “The stupid blabbing from drunk morons and impending fear of being vomited on would be too much for me. I wouldn’t last a day.” 

“You wouldn’t last a single night, let alone a whole day.”

“Alright, pipe down!” Harry deadpans, bumping her shoulder with his vengefully. “You’re bruising my ego.”

“It’s humongous,” Y/N snorts, shoving him in return, “it can take a few hits.”

The pair sit there in silence for a suspended moment, just taking in the expanse of the art before them. Harry then turns his torso towards her once more, bringing the drink in his grip up to her mouth. “Here, have a proper sip. Put my all into it.” 

Y/N obliges, looking up at him with her signature doe-like air of trusting innocence, allowing him to tip the hem of the cup against her mouth. The cool beverage filters through her taste buds and down her throat, the sweet and sour mixture leaving an enjoyable tingle in its wake. A few streams of the liquid bead out of the corners of her lips and Harry impulsively gathers them with the side of his index finger, the napkin in his other hand completely forgotten. 

As he goes to pull back in order to clean up, Y/N leans forward and traps his digit between her lips like before. This time, there’s a more insistent sultry hint sparkling around her pupils. 

“Christ...” Harry pants, watching Y/N work her way down his forefinger with a silent groan hinging on his teeth. 

He doesn’t deny himself from indulging the dirty action this time around. Her mouth is as soft and warm as ever, sending chills racing down his spine despite the sweater hugging his body. His mind slips for a second, reminiscing in all the other ways he’s felt the inside of her mouth before, a faint red tinge splattering across his cheekbones. 

Y/N draws his finger out, kissing messily across its length and over the pad, looking up at him through tension-heavied lashes. She doesn't speak a word, but her intentions are clear in the electricity between them.

He can’t hold back any longer, his next comment coming out as a pained growl. “God, you’re such a filthy little thing.”  

She hums softly in the back of her throat at his explicit compliment, suckling at the center of her bottom lip needily. “I like being your filthy little thing.”

Harry swallows thickly in order to keep himself somewhat tame, fangs suddenly pricking his tongue in warning.

The mortal scoots closer to him, sifting her fingers between his around the drink and bringing it upwards, downing the last couple of inches in one go. She draws the cup from his grasp, reaching over to set it down carefully on the coffee table before turning back and snuggling deeper into his heaving chest. 

Harry scoffs in amusement, but he can feel a certain charring scratching at the back of his throat. “Drinks like that are meant to be savored, darling. You’re not supposed to just pound them.” 

Y/N stretches her neck upwards, taking his earlobe between her teeth, lips wet and cold from the alcohol. His lashes flutter when her warm breath hits his skin, contradicting the sensations from before. 

“Why don’t you let me worry about how I drink, and you can worry about a different kind of pounding.”

And that’s all it takes, really. That’s all it takes for Harry to completely drop any self-control he has left. 

The creature jars his face towards her, large hand shooting upwards to grip her jaw firmly, holding her in place as he crashes their mouths together. It’s all tongue and clacking teeth, desperate whines and stuttered gasps. Y/N’s hands fumble for something to tether to while Harry takes it upon himself to grasp at her opposite hip with his free hand, yanking her onto his lap. She buries her fists in the cotton fabric of his jumper, balancing her knees on either sides of his parted thighs. The boy’s fingers coast from her jaw down to her throat, tightening ever so slightly. The action is minimal, but it reveals that flare of dominance Y/N has become addicted to. 

“Do you want it here?” Harry rasps against her eager tongue, smirking into the kiss when he feels her start to rock along the bulge that is beginning to tent his denim pants. “Do you want me to bend you over the couch and fuck you, baby? With the chandelier making your skin glow? Where we can put on a show for the whole city to see?”

It’s a tempting offer and his words obviously have some form of impact, seen in the way Y/N’s grinding takes on a hungrier, deeper pace against his clothed cock. 

“I want…” Y/N finds it difficult to voice her desires, the responsible party being the manner in which Harry glues cracked mewls onto the roof of her mouth. “I want it in your bed.” 

She doesn’t know why, but she just wants him to take her some place where the moment they share is intimate, unseen by the prying eyes of others. She wants to christen his bed exactly how he had done hers; she craves that strange connection, for some reason. Y/N isn’t naive, she knows she’s not the only person Harry has had in his home and in his sheets. But she wants that experience, nonetheless, even if it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She knows she’s not his only, but at least she’s one. 

Harry slowly breaks their kiss, brushing the tip of his nose across her own in a small comforting gesture. He blinks at her groggily, the copper specks in his eyes glitzing under the golden hue of the lighting. When he speaks, its soft and low, almost as if he doesn’t want to risk another soul overhearing. “Okay. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” 

Y/N almost doesn’t get anything she wants, given that she nearly kills herself on the trek up the stairs, courtesy of her weakened knees and wobbly ankles. Harry just barely manages to save her, but he finds the occurrence too hilarious to spare her the embarrassment. 

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny!” She exclaims indignantly as he helps her up the last few glass steps, clinging to him like a scared puppy, her hands still shaking with adrenaline. “I could have died!” 

Her shrieking only makes him laugh harder and he nearly keels over, palm clutching his stomach as if to keep it from popping. “I’m sorry, I really am, but it’s just— your face when you— and how you tripped sideways— I—”

Y/N shoves him hard towards the corridor where his bedroom lies, but it’s hard to maintain an angry demeanor when the young man’s giggles sound like bells and when he looks so cute with his curls flopping across his forehead. “Dickhead.” 

They’re almost at his bedroom door when Harry grabs onto her wrist, tugging her roughly so that she lurches forward into his chest. He plants a wet kiss onto the bridge of her nose, expression entertained. “Stop being such a bad sport. It was pretty funny.”

“Yeah, okay.” She huffs begrudgingly, glancing down impatiently at his plump lips as he walks backwards down the hallway with her in tow. “You can invalidate my rage once you have a near death experience yourself.”

The irony of it all. 

Harry kicks the door open, ghosting his mouth over Y/N’s and watching her sight do a quick sweep around the area. “Welcome to my lair.” 

The human likes his aesthetic. The room has different hues of the same color, so it all ties together nicely, and the hanging lights look like miniature versions of the two large ones downstairs. The bed is huge, which is a relief because for once, they won’t have to actively worry about accidentally rolling off the edge mid-fuck. “It’s nice. Very chic.” 

“Thanks.” Harry reaches up and cups either side of her neck with his palms, dragging his damp lips over her chin and down the center of her jugular, smiling against her skin when he feels her shiver. “It doesn't have a bookshelf wall like yours, but I make due.”

“Yeah.” Y/N wisps out weakly, leaning her head back as he speckles his mouth across that sensitive point on her throat he discovered ages ago. “I bet.”

She feels Harry’s touch travel down her torso, cold fingers suddenly smearing across her love handles beneath her work shirt. His grip tightens at the hem with the intention of pulling the polo off, breath hot as it washes over her collarbones. “Wanna find out just how good I make it work?”

Y/N’s arms instinctively raise on command, her reply shaky and fragile. “Yes, please.” 

Harry makes it work. He makes it work so fucking well. He doesn’t need crazy positions or any vibrating toys to make her feel good; he just knows her so thoroughly by now that he’s able to tend to every single one of her needs like it’s his sole purpose. The sex is missionary, with her splayed out across her back upon his mound of feathered pillows, her thighs clamped over his hips as he slams into her at a harsh, curt pace. Her calves are tied around the backs of his thighs, her nails are carving memories into the broad expanse of his shoulders, they’re both panting curse words and encouragement into each other’s mouths, and he’s cradling her to his chest as if he wants to absorb her heartbeat right through her ribs. If only obtaining one were that easy. 

Y/N allows her head to fall back against the cushions, drawing away from the prolonged kiss only because she needs air to continue. Harry’s lips busy themselves elsewhere, running down the valley of her chest and toying with one of her pebbled nipples. Y/N’s back gives a sharp arch the second he brushes across the sensitive nub and the taunting coo he releases goes straight to her core. 

“Liked that, darling? Like it when I kiss you there?”

The girl’s lashes have fallen shut, her eyes lulling around in their sockets as he maintains a steady rhythm between her thighs, ramming into her with so much force, the headboard is knocking into the wall. It’s loud and intense enough that Harry has to fit one of his palms between the railings, bracing the weight of the bed in order to prevent a hole from forming. 

Y/N’s voice fills the dense atmosphere, so shattered and raw, she can hardly understand herself. “It feels so— so good, H.” 

“I love it when you call me that. Sounds so pretty coming from your lips.” The vampire’s tongue flicks over her nipple a handful of times, dark veins momentarily webbing over the whites of his eyes at the cracked whimper she lets loose. “And of course it feels good. I always make you feel good, don’t I? Always make my girl cum so—fucking—hard.” 

Y/N’s trembling fingers card into the curls along the nape of Harry’s neck as he thrusts to his words, twisting them around her knuckles and swimming in the throaty groan he pours over the clammy skin of her breasts. Her whisper sounds distant and dreamy. “Please...Please don’t stop.”

Harry gazes up at her through heavy lashes, lapping at her chest more fervently, accent thick and deep. “I won’t, baby. Not until I have you dripping all over my sheets.”

After a few more minutes of fractured moans bouncing around the panels of the room and the noise of wet skin slapping together, something catches Y/N’s bleary eyes. She wills past the blissful fog in her mind, focusing on the intriguing object hanging from one of the railings of Harry’s bedpost, swaying back and forth wildly due to his strong tempo. 

“Are those...Are those handcuffs?” 

Harry’s attention jumps to where hers is pinned, his powerful stride coming to a gradual stop. He’s heaving and shuddering above her, ringlets matted to his jaw and across his temples, cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of cherry red. His Adam’s Apple bobs once and he gives a short nod. “Y-Yeah. I’ve had them for a while...”

The hope dripping from his voice is practically palpable and Y/N interprets it easily. She glances down at him as he takes quivering inhales against her chest, his eyes bleeding lust. Her mumble is so quiet and soft, he wonders how it’s possible for her to make some of the preposterously loud sounds he’s used to hearing whenever he’s buried this deep. “Use them on me. Please?”

Harry bends to her request without hesitation. He locks her wrists into the restraints, sponging a kiss onto each before giving them one hard tug to check for security. He then regains his rough slams, but with more fervor than before. 

The monster sits back onto his heels, groping her waist roughly and working her against his thighs, watching welts form on her flesh along the pads of his fingers. Y/N unconsciously begins circling her hips to match his speed and the fractured groan that rips out of him makes her walls tighten. He looks incredible looming in front of her, head toppled back between his shoulder blades, bouncing to his every ram. His throat flexes with the weight, jaw taut and inked pectorals glistening with sweat under the dim lights dangling from his ceiling. “That’s it, pet, just like that. Love the way you ride it. You’re so fucking tight and warm and...and just— Christ, just fuck me.”

She wishes she could frame this moment in time and drag it out forever.  

Harry swings his head forward again, blinking the blurriness from his vision to take in the image before him. Y/N just looks so fucking gorgeous like that, tied down at his beck and call, her chest bouncing pertly as her fingers bunch around the chain link, thighs clinging to his waist as she chews her bottom lip raw in an attempt to control her noises. 

The vampire ducks down, connecting their mouths in a sloppy kiss that cajoles her into spilling all the moans she had been withholding. He feels them trickle down his lungs and diffuse into his bones, flames lapping across his insides as their foreheads bump and noses smudge, ragged breaths intermingling. “Let it out for me, hm? Wanna know how I’m making you feel, don’t care who hears.”

As if that isn’t enough, there’s an instance where Harry’s animalistic senses suddenly enhance and he comes to the realization that the metal cuffs have made a tiny laceration along her skin. 

A thin trail of blood travels down her suspended arm, but she doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in the pleasure Harry is pounding into the pit of her stomach. So he simply leans upwards and licks the sweet droplet clean, feeling heat spark across every fiber of his being. He laps up the entire stream and then presses a tender kiss to her palm for good measure, grunting out a gentle, “There’s a good girl.” when she whines at the affectionate gesture. 

The release Harry is getting from between Y/N’s legs mixes with the ecstasy her blood brings, and it shoves him over the edge in a manner he hasn’t experienced since that first time they slept together all those weeks ago. Since the first time he tasted what lies in her veins, while also simultaneously getting to taste the indescribable relief her body so readily brings him.

After all is said and done that night, something peculiar happens. After they both milk their orgasms for everything it’s worth, and after Y/N gives into exhaustion in his arms with her wrists bruised and a content watery smile on her face, and after he gets a heftier drink from her neck and heals the two little puncture wounds with his own blood...The most bizarre, unexpected event occurs. 

Harry falls asleep soundly for the first time in months, and all he dreams about is how Y/N tasted. 

///

Y/N wakes up the next morning to her body covered in Harry’s Nike jumper, to an empty spot beside her in the messy duvet, to a familiar tune tinging her ears from a distance, and to a satisfying ache between her thighs. 

As soon as she cracks the bedroom door open, the smell of pancakes wafts in through the chilled morning air. Specifically, lemon and blueberry pancakes. Her grandmother’s lemon and blueberry pancakes.

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine the second she sets a toe along the cold glass panels of Harry’s staircase. She takes a deep breath, pulling the extra length of the sweater’s sleeves over her fists and tugging the hem of the article downwards as if she could convince it to cover more than just half her thighs. She carefully works her way down the steps, flinching at the iciness that travels up her legs with every motion. When she finally thunks down emptily onto the light-wash floorboards, her body has grown accustomed to the temperature. As she pads across the furry rug in Harry’s living room, she finds herself wondering why everything connected to him is always so unusually cold— colder than any normal person could withstand. His touch, his lips, the tip of his nose, his forehead, his chest, even his thighs; everything is always freezing, and she doesn’t understand how he can bear it. It’s such an odd affinity to have. 

The human gradually wanders into the vampire’s kitchen, peeking inside the room from behind one of the archway’s walls. What she sees throws her for a loop. 

Harry is cooking breakfast, as she expected from the sweet scent she’d awoken to, but he’s doing it in a manner she never really expected from him. 

Music stems from a portable speaker he has situated at the center of the marble kitchen island, blaring loud enough to fill the entire giant home with high notes, guitar chords, and acapella riffs. The young man is dancing across his kitchen as he cooks, clad in nothing but a set of black Calvin Klein briefs and a pair of fuzzy magenta socks. Y/N rakes down his body, admiring the crimson and purple love bites she had left on his chest and the raspberry red scratches zig-zagging across his back, the marks flexing with the movements of his muscles. They’re strangely faint, for some reason. Practically barely there. 

She chalks it up to the fact that maybe she hadn’t bruised him as much as she’d thought. 

Y/N forces herself to keep her mind from straying onto anymore explicit topics; it’s probably not even ten A.M. yet. She needs to get herself under control.

Grooving while in the kitchen isn’t necessarily weird (she’s guilty of it herself), but Harry’s dancing techniques very much are. The only accurate depiction of it is that for a boy in his twenties, he dances like an old geezer in his eighties. His moves are choppy and old-schooled, almost like what you’d expect to see in a nineteen fifties disco hall, and watching him ebb and flow across the tiled ground to choreography similar to that of Dirty Dancing and Footloose... It would send anybody into a fit of laughter. Especially since Harry is so tall and lanky, so how he manages to move in such a way is beyond her understanding. 

Aside from that, his choice of music is baffling, as well. Not only because she recognizes the soundtrack, but because she would have never expected someone like him— with his cocky behavior and overly-confident caliber— to be into these types of songs at all. She always pegged him for the seventies rock and roll type. 

“You like Hamilton?” 

Harry’s actions creak to a halt and he whips around towards where the disturbance had stemmed, spatula clutched in one hand and a marble plate stacked with pancakes in the other. His face breaks into a bright smile, voice slathered with dramatic friendliness. “Well, look who finally got up! I was starting to think you were dead, Sleeping Beauty.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him mockingly, walking over to the kitchen counter and propping herself onto her elbows, chin in hand as she watches him set down the platter of food before her. She tips forward onto her toes, taking a deep inhale of the homey, sugary smell, letting it wash over her in flashes of childhood memories. “Are these like the ones I make?”

“Lemon and blueberry, yeah.” Harry bobs his head casually, turning around to place his metal spatula down into the sink, as well as to retrieve a glass bottle of maple syrup from one of his cupboards. “They’re pretty close, I think. I’ve never seen you use a recipe or measuring cups or anything when you make them, so I kinda eyeballed it to the best of my ability. Hope I did your nan justice.”

He pours a decently-sized glop of syrup over the mountain of treats and Y/N watches excitedly as it trickles down all the layers. He then pushes back from the table, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through, continuing to whistle along to the tune of Satisfied as he bops the cabinet closed with his hip and sets down an extra pair of forks and knives beside the plate. 

Harry cuts a neat triangle out of the pancake at the top, pointing at her with his fork as he shrugs his brows nonchalantly. “And to answer your question from before: yes, I do like Hamilton.”

“Hm. Interesting.” Y/N murmurs, going cross-eyed as Harry offers her the forkful of food in his possession, poking at her mouth playfully and getting maple syrup all over her lips. She opens obediently, allowing him to feed her the piece. “You don’t really seem like the type of guy— oh, wow, these are actually really good!”

Harry bites into his lower lip with his two front teeth, a proud smile dimpling his cheeks as the light draft from the air vent ruffles a couple of his sex-mussed ringlets across his forehead. “Yeah? You mean it?”

The mortal nods her head vigorously as she finishes chewing and swallowing, wiping away some of the leftover syrup from her top lip with her middle finger and sucking it clean. “Yeah! You hit it spot on.”

“Aces. I should be on The Great British Bake Off.” Harry makes a small, celebratory fist bump next to his hip and the childish gesture makes Y/N snort softly. 

“Like I was saying, you don’t really strike me as the type of guy who would be into musicals.” The girl comments, watching her friend cut another triangle out of the first pancake and pop it into his own mouth. 

The vampire chews thoughtfully for a second, lifting one shoulder offhandedly and swallowing fully before talking. “I’m really not, to be honest. But this specific musical is pretty good. The songs are catchy.”

He nudges the other pair of utensils across the counter for emphasis, silently inviting her to dig into the dish along with him. She accepts, slicing down the other side of the stack as he leans forward onto his elbows, mimicking her stance. He gives her a curious glance. “What about you? Do you like musicals?” 

Y/N shrugs, poking a few chunks of food onto her fork. “Not really, but I had a major Hamilton phase back in college. That’s why I recognized it.” 

Harry hums in understanding, picking a blueberry off and chewing it slowly, a sly smirk beginning to tweak the corners of his mouth. “So were you, like, a nerd back then?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say a nerd, but I had decent grades and was pretty quiet.”

He swallows down audibly, blinking impassively. “That’s literally the definition of a nerd.” 

Y/N returns his flat expression. “Fuck off.”

Harry throws his palms up in peaceful surrender, but he still has that shit-eating grin present. “Alright, fine, fine...It’s okay if you were, though. You were probably one of those cute ones, y’know? With the clunky glasses and innocent goody-goody face.” 

“Shut up.”

“Oh, and with one of those short little plaid skirts?” He releases a pained groan, clutching his chest and closing his eyes for a second. She has no doubt he’s sketching some type of graphic image of her in his mind. “God, I bet you looked so good. Do you still have it? Can you wear it for me?”

“I said shut up!” Y/N reaches forward and stabs at his tummy lightly with her fork, ignoring the warmth crawling up her neck and across her cheeks. “Fucking perv.”

Harry smacks her utensil away with his own, giggling lightly as she tries to prick him again, continuing to fight her off. “I’m just asking a question! For science!” 

Y/N twists her fork around his, trying to outmaneuver him into dropping it. “How could my fashion sense in college possibly contribute to science in any way?” 

The vampire easily catches onto her play, slipping himself out of her grasp and trying to trap her makeshift sword down against the tabletop. He purses his lips into a simper, glimpsing up at her through his lashes and quirking his brows cheekily. “Biologically, of course. It contributes to my solo reproductive activities.”

“You are vile.” 

“Really? ‘Cause you seemed pretty happy to help with said activities last night.” 

Y/N drops her fork onto the brim of the platter, reaching up to massage at her temples and keep herself from swatting Harry’s eyeballs out of their sockets. “I’m finished.” 

“Yeah,” the jade of his irises glimmers coyly as he sets down his utensil beside hers in a ceasefire, “you definitely finished.”

Harry chuckles boyishly as Y/N drags her palms down her face, trying to hide away how flustered he’s getting her. She decides to change the subject, not caring to steer the conversation smoothly at all, but rather jumping to another topic right away. “So does this mean you have all the lyrics memorized? Since you like them so much?” 

“I do, yeah.” Harry taps his fingers against the marble counter to the beat of the song currently playing. “Do you?” 

“I was obsessed, so of course I do.” Y/N reasons, her own digits following in tune with the immortal’s. “I think Non-Stop was probably my favorite to sing. It made for a good shower concert.”

“Well, it’s settled then.” Harry quips happily, reaching for his phone and tapping across the screen. “We’re duetting this. Right now. C’mon, Burr.”

Y/N’s motions stop, shyness creeping in from the back of her brain. “Oh, I don’t know, Harry. I never really—”

Her refusal is interrupted by the beginning of the arrangement mentioned, the notes blasting through the speaker as Harry purposefully turns up the volume to drown her out. He taps at his ear symbolically, mouthing, “Sorry, I can't hear you!” and he doesn’t even attempt to ward off the evil grin creeping across his face. 

“Harry, I’m serious—” 

But it’s already too late. Harry juts his hand out in front of him, pointing at his companion with a theatrical edge as he begins to serenade, picking up the slack of her part. 

“After the war I went back to New York. A-After the war I went back to New York. I finished up my studies and I practiced law. I practiced law, Burr worked next door!”

He looks at her expectantly, urging her to jump into the next half as her assigned role. Y/N muscles down her hesitation and recites the lines timidly with her brows creased in hesitation, but at least she’s participating. “Even though we started at the very same time, Alexander Hamilton began to climb. How to account for his rise to the top?”

Harry joins her in the next stanza, grabbing her hand midair in encouragement, trying to shake her out of her rut. “Man, the man is non-stop!”

Y/N is surprised at how well they sound harmonizing together, and she can feel her discomfort slowly begin to melt. She watches as Harry freely boasts his solo with absolutely no remorse, making grand gestures as he slides down the side of the counter, his movements dragging her along. 

“Gentlemen of the jury, I'm curious, bear with me. Are you aware that we're making history?” The boy taps at his chin to symbolize that he’s thinking, acting out the story the lyrics construct. “This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation, the liberty behind deliberation.”

He points at Y/N once again and she does the supporting vocals, gradually beginning to gain more confidence. “Non-stop!”

“I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, with my assistant counsel—”

Harry doesn’t even have to cue Y/N this time around; she picks up her half immediately, falling into line with him flawlessly as if they’ve done this a million times before. “Co-counsel. Hamilton, sit down. Our client Levi Weeks is innocent, call your first witness.”

Harry quickly rounds the corner of the kitchen island, giving her body a grand spin as he draws closer, coming to stand right before her. She gives him a fake exasperated look to match the attitude her character depicts, shaking her head in disapproval. “That's all you had to say.”

“Okay…” The creature yanks Y/N forward into his bare chest, leaning down and flirting his lips right over hers tauntingly, eyes half-lidded in amusement. “One more thing—”

“Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?” The girl rolls her eyes dramatically, shoving past Harry’s shoulder and she finds it humorous how these lines fit so well, almost as if they were actually directed at him, calling him out on the arrogance he always seems to dote. “Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude may be your doom.”

Harry swivels on his heel, following her as she scurries outside the kitchen entrance, running into the living room. 

“Why do you write like you're running out of time?” Y/N grabs onto one of the couch cushions, pretending to scribble over it with a fake pen. “Write day and night, like you're running out of time? Everyday you fight, like you're running out of time.”

Harry swipes at her from across the couch, trying to grasp onto the jumper she’s wearing. “Keep on fighting in the meantime.”

Y/N ducks out of the path of his grabbing hand, chucking the pillow forward and it bonks him square in the face. She sticks her tongue out at him as Harry scowls dully, climbing onto his sofa and scuttling towards her on his hand and knees.

She jumps just out of reach, diving across the other end of the furniture. The vampire throws his weight to try and tackle her to the sofa, but she just barely escapes. He ends up toppling over the backrest due to his over-abundant momentum. 

“Non-stop!” Y/N waves her middle up at him triumphantly as he pushes himself up off the ground, giving her a challenging look as he takes off after her once again. 

The pair continue to sing back and forth, with Harry chasing Y/N around the living room and kitchen as he belts out his part of the song, Y/N always somehow managing to slip from his grasp as soon as her turn hits. They’re a mess of giggles, silly faces, and boisterous actions as they reenact the play and neither can recall a time they had ever had more fun. There’s never been an instance when they felt so comfortable with another soul that they are willing to run around half-naked, screaming lyrics at each other in their underwear, not caring who sees or overhears. It just feels so second-nature.

A section of the song comes up where a woman is singing and Harry immediately takes up the part, placing his hand on his bare hip and standing in the most feminine fashion he can possibly muster, fanning at his face. “I am sailing off to London, I am accompanied by someone who always pays.” 

The exaggeration makes Y/N bend over laughing and her distraction allows Harry to nab her. He pulls her into his embrace by her forearms, cackling through the following stanza as she wriggles and squirms to try and get free. “I have found a wealthy husband who will keep me in comfort for all my days.” 

Y/N finally gives up on trying to thrash herself free, going limp against his chest and glimpsing up at him with begrudged annoyance, but a fond smile is unmistakably buckling her cheeks. Harry leans down, singing right in her face just to flaunt his victory, their noses brushing. “He is not a lot of fun, but…”

And then, there’s a shift in the ambiance between them. 

Harry gazes down at her as she giggles up at him from his arms, full of so much genuine warmth and excitement, she could power the entire city if she wanted. Her shoulders are heaving slightly as a result of all the running, there’s still faint traces of black mascara smeared under her waterline and down her cheeks from the previous evening’s exertions, she has some acne scarring littering her cheekbones that look fairly recent, and her hair looks like it could nest a family of at least ten birds. But despite these imperfections, Harry finds himself feeling oddly endeared by it all. These flaws are all things he’s gotten used to and has grown to treasure in Y/N. They make her who she is. They make her witty, and they make her clever. They make her fun, as well as trusting. They make her likeable, and energetic, and kind. They make her a good friend and a generous lover. They make her... her. Harry gets the feeling that if she didn’t have all of these traits— if even one was missing— this little arrangement they have going wouldn’t have flourished the way it did. 

Yeah, maybe he would have slept with her once or twice more just to scratch an itch, but he most likely would have let it fizzle to an end after the fact. Her personality paired with these small details— albeit, not all entirely attractive— that make up her existence play a key role in the dynamic they share. And he wouldn’t trade them for anything else— wouldn't trade Y/N for anyone else. Not anytime soon. 

A warm surge travels through his chest, filling his veins like kerosine, heating him from the heels of his socked feet to the tips of his ice cold fingers. An unorthodox swelling sensation twists inside his ribs, right where his heart used to beat, and he finds himself reciting the next line in a soft voice packed with more emotion than he’s shown or felt in the last two centuries.

“There’s no one who can match you, for turn of phrase…”

Y/N seems oblivious to all of the unsettling experiences he’s undergoing, her amused expression not changing in the slightest. Harry allows the rest of the song lyrics to pass by, the lump in his throat too heavy to fight. Instead, he just keeps staring down at Y/N with brows frowning in confusion, his breathing coming out bated and shaky, and that knot in his chest continuing to tighten until it becomes painful. He gets the sudden urge to kiss her— to feel her lips press to his and feel her give into him the way she always does. The way she has for the last four weeks. He doesn’t want it to be sloppy or desperate or sexual; he wants it to be intimate, soft, and caring. He wants it to be special. Something they share. Something only they share.

Then, that moment passes. That flicker of weakness that had leaked through vanishes and Harry feels like he can breathe properly again.

He breaks their locked eyes, releasing Y/N from his hold and taking a swift step back, coughing awkwardly to try and rid the tickling sensation in the back of his throat. He scratches at the nape of his neck nervously, fiddling with his baby curls and attempting to piece himself back together after that unexpected and unwelcome intrusion of his innermost feelings. Though, he doesn’t know if that spectacle even files under the category of emotions; from what he remembers, they aren’t supposed to tangibly attack you in such a manner. It felt more like a violation— like someone had gone in and started poking and prodding at his subconscious with a metal skewer. 

“Harry…?” Y/N inches closer to him, concern prevalent in her voice and across her features as she stretches her hand out caringly. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.” 

“I-I’m—” His voice comes out higher than usual and quivering, so he coughs once again to get it under control, taking another step back. He's scared that if she touches him, that horrible burning sensation will come back. “I’m fine. Just...Just forgot the lyrics.” 

“Oh, okay…” The girl doesn’t sound convinced with the answer, but she lets the subject falter anyways, her hand dropping back down beside her thigh. “Just checking.” 

“Yeah, I got that. Uh, thanks. But I’m all good now.” He holds up a clenched first and juts out his pinky, wiggling it for significance. “Promise”

Y/N scoffs gently at his playful deed. “Alright, then.” 

Harry eyes her attentively as she returns to her previous spot in front of the plate of pancakes, retrieving her fork and starting to pick at them like before, as if nothing had happened. As if Harry hadn’t just almost had a cardiac arrest, despite the fact that the organ responsible had crumbled to dust ages ago.

“Are you gonna eat anymore?” Y/N signals down at the stack of pastries before her questioningly. “Because if you don’t get some now, I’ll eat them all myself. Don’t think I won’t. They’re better than the ones I make and—”

The vampire suddenly feels like bile is rising up his throat and his words spew out before he can think to stop them, though he’s not so sure he would. 

“Do you want to stay over the rest of the weekend?”

[evilmortys]

okay,  so,  here  are  my  thoughts  on  the  finale,

i’m  gonna  start  with  the  things  i  didn’t  like,  just  because  of  who  i  am  as  a  person!  my  feelings  are  mixed,  but...  looks  lovingly  at  evil  morty.  he  truly  was  the  only  exception  as  usual  ♥

i’m  not  going  to  lie,  this  whole  thing  felt.  rushed.  although  some  of  rick’s  meta  commentary  about  not  touching  citadel  shit  because  it  was  canon  and  he  and  morty  were  supposed  to  be  going  back  to  lighthearted  one  off  adventures,  and  “the  second  he  reveals  that  he’s  evil,  we’re  out”  made  me  laugh,  it  also  felt  very  disingenuous  and  ham-fisted.  having  him  do  all  these  fourth  wall  breaks  honestly  took  away  from  the  impact  of  what  this  episode  could  have  been,  but  whatever.  

i  just  got  the  vibe  that  they  wanted  everyone  to  stfu  about  the  citadel  and  evil  morty,  so  they  quickly  stuck  together  this  episode  that  dealt  with  fans’  demand  in  one  fell  swoop  so  they  could  move  on  from  the  existence  of  both  plotlines.  i  honestly  thought  it  was  a  bit  wasteful  since  tales  from  the  citadel  resonated  with  a  lot  of  fans  and  it  was  an  interesting  bit  of  worldbuilding  with  compelling  narratives  going  on.

you  already  all  likely  know  how  irritated  i  am  with  morty’s  character  degrading  so  much  once  again.  this  entire  season  has  been  building  him  up  to  becoming  so  much  more  capable,  only  to  wrench  it  away  from  him  again  by  instead  having  his  co-dependency  with  rick  ramped  up  to  the  point  it  was  literally  out  of  character.  this  has  come  out  of  nowhere.  at  no  point  in  the  show’s  entire  run  has  morty  ever  been  this  needy  with  rick.  

again,  i  feel  like  this  may  have  been  written  around  what  eventually  ended  up  happening  at  the  citadel,  with  the  revelation  that  mortys  are  ‘bred  for  forgiveness.’  it  would  have  been  far  more  compelling  for  our  morty  to  have  continued  to  go  down  the  path  of  being  decidedly  unforgiving  of  rick’s  bullshit,  thereby  making  him  deviate  from  the  norm  in  a  similar  way  to  evil  morty  himself  and  implicating  that  the  cycle  of  a  morty  going  to  these  extremes  is  going  to  be  repeated  once  again.

rick  did  not  deserve  or  earn  voicing  the  recognition  that  his  dynamic  with  morty  was  toxic,  and  abusive.  are  you  fucking  kidding  me?  the  smartest  man  in  the  universe  only  JUST  clocked  onto  that?  bullshit!  he’s  known  all  along,  and  he’s  been  using  it  for  his  own  gain!  he  doesn’t  get  to  just  say  it  with  that  regretful  voice  as  if  he’s  been  clueless  /  oblivious  to  it  this  entire  time.  they  just  wanted  the  audience  to  feel  sympathetic  for  him  by  throwing  in  this  tidbit  and  a  tragic  backstory,  as  if  that  even  sort  of  makes  up  for  everything  he’s  put  his  family  through.  

abandoning  the  people  you’ve  hurt  is  ALSO  abusive  and  toxic  behaviour!  he’s  done  it  time  and  time  again!  how  is  acknowledging  the  fact  that  you  hurt  people,  that  you  hurt  your  family,  the  people  that  love  you  despite  the  fact  you  objectively  don’t  deserve  it,  then  ditching  them  once  again  instead  of  staying  with  them  and  improving  as  a  person  and  helping  everyone  heal  from  what  you’ve  put  them  through,  ANY  BETTER??  he  never  changes!!

i  also  couldn’t  really  process  the  fact  that  rick  just  handed  morty  his  portal  gun  like  it  was  nothing--  i  feel  like  him  topping  it  off  and  using  it  behind  rick’s  back  should  have  been  a  bigger  deal  than  what  it  was.  also,  morty  would  not  break  a  guy  out  of  a  mental  asylum  without  a  second  thought.  he  simply  wouldn’t  do  that.

we’ve  fallen  right  back  into  the  status  quo  of  morty  being  stupid  and  rick  being  the  smartest  one  in  the  room  who  always  knows  what’s  going  on,  even  when  he  actually  shouldn’t  for  the  sake  of  a  few  meta  jokes.  which  is  more  annoying  than  i  can  put  into  words  tbqh

obviously  i  hated  all  the  parallels  they  were  attempting  to  make  between  rick  and  morty  having  a  romantic  relationship  and  “breaking  up.”  never  has  morty  behaved  so  uncharacteristically  in  any  other  episode  of  the  show.  it  honestly  felt  disrespectful  to  all  the  growth  he’s  had  as  a  character  to  reduce  him  to  something  so  pathetic.

i  guess  this  is  less  of  a  thing  i  disliked,  and  more  of  a  commentary  on  rick’s  character?  but  once  again,  his  hypocrisy  really  leapt  out  at  me  once  it  was  revealed  that  he  always  has  a  hand  in  bringing  together  beths  and  jerrys  in  order  to  ensure  that  more  mortys  will  end  up  in  the  multiverse.  i  find  it  unbelievably  sad  that  he’ll  willingly  ensnare  the  two  of  them  in  the  throes  of  a  relationship  that  he  knows  is  likely  to  become  toxic  and  cause  the  both  of  them  to  be  miserable  throughout  their  time  together;  they’re  rarely  happy  /  compatible  together  and  always  end  up  sticking  it  out  for  the  kids.  it  also  makes  his  constant  shitting  on  jerry  even  more  egregious  and  almost  serves  to  call  his  love  for  his  daughter  into  question  for  me.  he’s  using  her  as  a  means  to  his  own  ends  by  manipulating  situations  so  she’ll  meet  jerry  and  they’ll  likely  end  up  together.  

don’t  get  me  wrong,  i  actually  really  loved  the  fact  he  had  a  hand  in  founding  the  citadel  he  now  loathes  so  much,  and  i  think  the  constant  creation  of  mortys  as  grandsons  ‘bred  to  forgive’  ricks  is  so  fucked  up  and  awful  in  the  most  intriguing  way.  it’s  akin  to  him  fiddling  with  the  concept  of  keeping  mortys  in  constant  pain  to  cloak  his  comings  and  goings  around  the  multiverse  (on  paper,  morty,  on  paper!),  except  this  time  he  did  it  in  reality.

evil  morty.  oh  my  god,  evil  morty.  my  saving  grace.  my  ray  of  light.  i’m  so,  so,  so  pleased  with  the  way  he  was  handled.  while  i  admit  i  was  looking  forward  to  more  of  a  slow - burn  thing,  getting  a  bit  of  insight  into  his  presidency  and  possibly  exploring  a  dynamic  with  him  and  c-137  (we’ll  get  to  that)...  i  honestly  still  really  loved  what  ended  up  happening  with  him,  even  though  i  still  believe  on  some  level  that  they  just  wanted  to  tie  up  his  narrative  thread  so  fans  wouldn’t  remain  fixated  on  him.

of  course  he  did.  of  course  that  motherfucker  rick  created  a  boundary  within  the  infinite  multiverse  that  ensured  he’d  always  be  the  smartest  man  within  it  as  far  as  mortys  and  other  people  in  his  life  were  concerned.  i’ve  always  found  it  odd  that  such  universes  were  never  brought  up  even  in  passing;  the  nature  of  infinite  possibilities  always  dictated  that  someone  smarter  than  him  must  exist  out  there,  and  that  worlds  existed  where  he  was  nobody  special.

him  being  morally  gray.  i  could  cry.  i  was  clinging  on  to  the  hope  that  it  would  be  shown  he  hates  ricks  more  than  he  looks  down  on  mortys,  and  it  absolutely  was.  while  he  was  okay  with  killing  and  hurting  mortys  to  achieve  his  own  “selfish”  ends,  it’s  clear  that  he’s  unhappy  with  the  cycle  of  abuse  from  their  infinite  grandfathers  that  pushes  him  to  these  extremes,  loathes  the  concept  that  mortys  are  not  supposed  to  defy  their  ricks.  “if  you’ve  ever  been  sick  of  him,  you’ve  been  evil  morty  too.”  he  hates  ricks  FAR  more  than  he  does  mortys,  and  you  can  pry  that  from  my  cold,  dead  hands.  he  believes  mortys  are  beyond  help  because  of  the  way  they  stick  by  rick--  the  fact  they’re  literally  created  with  being  yes-men  for  rick  in  mind.

he  didn’t  seek  to  make  changes  for  the  greater  good  of  other  mortys  within  the  citadel.  i  think  he  understood  on  some  level,  it  was  impossible.  i  think  he  has  this  belief  that  other  mortys  are  part  of  the  problem,  because  they  perpetuate  the  cyclic  dynamic  of  toxicity  and  harm--  they  don’t  move  to  break  free  from  it  the  way  he  does,  and  so  he  feels  no  guilt  leaving  them  behind  while  he  breaks  into  the  aspect  of  the  multiverse  where  rick  has  no  power.  it’s  honestly  heartbreaking  that  he’s  come  to  have  a  mindset  like  that.  

i  think  seeing  c-137  reach  out  to  help  rick  up  once  again  instead  of  accepting  what  i  hope  and  pray  was  a  semi - genuine  offer  to  join  him  as  he  departed  was  just  yet  another  instance  of  him  witnessing  a  morty  doing  the  most  to  save  the  man  who  makes  their  lives  a  living  hell.  if  he  was  truly  unsympathetic,  he’d  have  made  no  such  offer.  if  he  thinks  a  morty  is  capable  of  pulling  away  from  the  hold  ricks  have  on  them,  he  wants  them  out  of  this  shit  just  as  much  as  he  himself  wants  to  break  free  from  it.  i  think  he  has  the  mindset  that  i  know  they  tried  to  play  it  off  with  “haha  the  other  seat’s  a  toilet,”  but  i  don’t  think  that  was  the  case  and  they  were  once  again  just  undermining  the  moment  for  no  good  reason.  SCREAMS!!  don’t  get  me  wrong  what  he  did  WAS  selfish  and  evil.  but  in  a  way  you  can  understand  where  it  derives  from

again,  it  REALLY  irritates  me  they’ve  undone  so  much  of  morty’s  character  just  to  ensure  he  wouldn’t  end  up  taking  evil  morty  up  on  his  proposition.  if  morty  had  retained  even  a  tenth  of  the  character  growth  he’s  been  having  from  late  season  four  until  towards  the  end  of  season  five,  wherein  it  began  to  unravel,  he’d  have  left  rick.  undeniably.

the  yellow  portal.  oh  my  god............

it  made  me  so  fucking  emotional  to  see  that.  he’s  won.  he’s  free.  

[imasimpforshanks]

Hello author! Can I ask for K and L for Sanji/Ace please. (Fluff) thankyou!

Fluff Alphabet - Portgas D. Ace

a/n: hiya!!!! Here is ace’s fluff alphabet! 💗I know you only asked for K & L but I hate only answering a few letters of these at a time LMAO 💀ALSOOOOO I’m going to Sanjis at some point too, because I got a lot more angst asks than fluff so yahhhh! Anywayssss hope you enjoy<3333

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

Ace absolutely loves to pull pranks on you AND he loves to pull pranks with you. Once a month you actually have an all-out prank war against one another where even the crew fear that they will be caught in the middle of it.

Oh, and true to his character, the two of you spend a lot of time eating food together. It’s very difficult for any normal human being to eat anything close to the amount Ace eats, so more often than not, it’s you staring at him in awe while he scoffs down another plate of food.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

He finds your smile to be one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen, it’s even more beautiful when the smile is directed at him. The moment you smile at him everything else in the world seems to melt away. Ace does everything in his power to bring a smile to your face, because when you smile everything else seems to fall into place. (SO CLICHÉ I KNOW BUT IT’S TRUE!)

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

His go to method of comfort is cuddles. He just wraps his arms around you and gives you lots of forehead kisses. He’ll say all these kind things about you and ask what you need from him. If you’re not sure, or if you don’t feel like talking, he’ll patiently wait until you’re ready to talk.

D-Dreams (how do they picture they future with their s/o?)

In every possible future he envisions, you are there. To Ace, there is no future unless you are with him. It’ll be the two of you living life to the absolute fullest, taking it day-by-day.

He isn’t too keen on having (biological) children as he doesn’t want them to be burdened with the blood of Gol D. Roger.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

He tends to take the more dominant role in the relationship. It’s just his natural personality that seeps through, it’s truly not intentional. He’s confident and loud so there’s not really any way you can’t not listen to him. However, if you were to voice any opinions or comments, you’ve got all his attention!

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

I talk about his fights with his s/o a little in his angst alphabet. Here it is again!

Fights with Ace, although they don’t happen often, can quickly get out of hand. He’s stubborn and his inability to accept that he’s not always right can cause a minor disagreement to escalate into an all-out fight. On a few occasions you have argued about him never turning his back on an opponent.

Your fights tend to be followed by cooldown time. Things can get quite heated (no pun intended) so you need some alone time and space to breathe. After that though, you comeback together and apologize.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

Ace felt unloved and unwanted by the world growing up (save for Luffy and Sabo, oh and Dadan), so it was quite the change to experience the unconditional love you provided him. He will forever be grateful for what you have done for him, in fact, he’s so grateful about it that he can never shut up about it! Much like how he gushes about his ‘stupid kid brother’ to the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace will also never shut up about you to anyone he talks to. Your name somehow always makes its way into any conversation he has.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

The only secret he kept from you was that he was the son of the Pirate King. He was scared that once you knew, you would view him differently. But over time he was able to see that that would never be the case. So, after telling you that, he never kept anything from you ever again. Ace actually finds sharing secrets with you to be a weight off his shoulders.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

You were another person that was able to show Ace he is worthy of being loved. It’s an insecurity of his that will probably never go away, but that’s okay because you’re more than happy to remind him daily.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

I talked about Ace’s jealousy in his angst alphabet! But I’ll go over it again here!

When he gets jealous he turns into such a man child. He’s pouting and moping around while mumbling to himself. He develops quite a petty attitude. If you were to ask him “want to go get something to eat?” he’d respond with “why don’t you just go and ask ____ for some food.” But, as soon as you begin commenting on how jealous he’s acting he’s going to deny it to the end of his days.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

I feel as though I may give Ace a little too much credit when it comes to this because I want to think that he’d be one of those amazing kissers, like he just has a knack for it. But in reality, that probably wouldn’t be the case.

Ace is more likely to be quite an overexcited kisser. He’s keen and passionate, that’s for sure. But with your first kiss, he’s a little too keen and tries to move way to fast. After some calming down and a little bit of a giggle to one other he’s in the zone.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

The two of you are just talking and he’s, unsurprisingly, brought up his brother, Luffy. What is surprising however, is when he tells you how badly he wants you guys to meet each other. Your first reaction was “yeah that stands to reason he wants all of us to meet luffy” but before you could say anything Ace is already going on like “yeah, I just can’t wait to have the two people I love most in the world meet. It’d be real cool” (or something along those lines and probably a little less cheesy LMAO). You just stare at him like “heh?” and he stares at you like “uhhhh… yeah I said what I said?”

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Heck yeah, this dude wants to get married! Getting to show you off to everyone? Yes please! Getting to tell you in front of everyone he knows just how much he loves you? BIG YES. Oh, AND a big ass party afterwards? THIS DUDE CANNOT WAIT! Being able to marry you is one of his dreams, and he’s actually been thinking about since the first date you guys went on.

But, he’s really struggling with how to propose to you. He’s gone through every cliché in the book. A ring at the bottom of your glass, in your food, a carriage ride etc. They’re all great ideas but he doesn’t think they suit the dynamic of your relationship. So, he’s going to enlist the help of Whitebeard Pirates and create an elaborate prank (that has a 50/50 chance of going wrong but also still working out exactly as he wanted).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

He likes to call you hot stuff or baby. Initially, these nicknames resulted in a lot of teasing from the other whitebeard pirates but neither of you cared.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

Whitebeard and a few of the other division commanders are the first to notice. I mean, it’s not that hard… He is constantly bringing you up in every conversation (if you’re not there) and if you are there, they can’t even get his attention for a moment. You have his undivided attention! It isn’t until Marco or someone says “You’re down baddddd, Ace” that he’s like HUH?

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

Ace loves PDA. He is all about kissing you in front of everyone else. So much so that you constantly get told to “get a room!”. Ace loves to show off his relationship with you to the whole wide world. He’s incredibly proud to have found someone that loves him wholeheartedly.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

Well, thanks to his devil fruit, his body temperature tends to run pretty warm, so you have your own personal heater.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Ace is romantic in his own way, that’s for sure. He expresses his love through teasing and jokes, but also through quality time. He’s big on that. Making sure all his attention is on you so you know just how much he loves you.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

He has so much faith in your ability to achieve your goals. He wants to be able to help you in any way he can, so if you come to him and ask for help, he would be absolutely ecstatic! Ace just wants to be a part of your success story (in the best way possible, I know some people only want to because then they get credited but that’s not why ace wants to do it at all! Nothing makes Ace happier than seeing those he loves achieve their goals).

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

Your relationship is already spiced out enough as it is. He’s got an extremely mischievous personality so is constantly getting up to god knows what, and some how always manages to drag you into it. If anything, your relationship could do with a little more routine (but you both are extremely happy with the way it is).

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

Ace is an extremely empathetic individual. He understands a lot more than most, just how awful negative emotions can be (whether that’s sadness, insecurity, anger etc.). So he is quick to your aid whenever something seems to wrong.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

All relationships in Ace’s life are extremely important to him. He even values them more than his own life. Your relationship is no exception. You’ve shown him love, and accepted him for who he truly is, so there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you and he makes that very clear every single day.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

He knows all your food orders off by heart. And when I say all your food orders, I mean ALL of them. He knows your food orders for each of your different moods. He memorised them pretty quickly so that he could surprise you with food regardless of your mood.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

He is an extremely affectionate individual. Ace is practically attached to your hip at every possible moment. An arm will always be thrown around your waist or shoulders, and he literally wants to spend all day smothering you in kisses. He’s shameless when it comes to affection.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

He copes by talking about you to EVERYONE. He tells the crew stories about you (mind you these are stories not only that they’ve heard multiple times, but they were also there to witness themselves). It gets to the point where even Whitebeard is like “ya know what Ace, you can go visit them.”

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

As I said previously, all relationships in Ace’s life are extremely important to him. We saw what lengths he was willing to go to when Thatch was killed by Blackbeard, and you would be no different. In fact, Ace would be willing to do all of that and so much more, if it was for you.

[ijwrsmff]

Can I request the fluff alphabet for Kokichi? All of it, if you can. Thank you :)

Here you go! Hope you like it! I have such a love hate relationship with this boy XD

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

He likes to play games! Video games, card games, board games, he doesn’t really care. He especially likes ones that he’s better than you at. He does like to win, afterall.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

Determination. If you’re determined, no matter what it may be for, he respects it. He loves nothing more than to see you work at what you’re passionate about. He may not HELP you to learn it, but he does enjoy sitting and watching you put in the work.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack/etc.?)

He’s...not very good at comforting you. He tries, he really does, but often he’ll make jokes to make you laugh...but sometimes you’re really not in the mood to laugh so it comes across as insensitive.

D-Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o?)

He’s already planned your future in 50 different scenarios. He’ll make you look at each and every one of them until you pick one you like. Then? He’ll do anything in his power to make it happen.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in their relationship or are they more passive?)

He likes to be in charge, but occasionally he’d like you to make the choices. Little stuff, he’ll always be in charge. Stuff like what you’re going to eat he will always choose, but bigger decisions like what kind of car you’ll buy...he’d rather you make the choice. Though he will make his stance clear no matter who will be making the decision.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

He would never get physical with you, but he would yell. A lot. Especially if he feels like he’s being ignored. He really...really can’t stand the feeling of being ignored. He’s always ready to fight, but tries to calm himself down before it escalates to that. It doesn’t work every time...but sometimes it does when he’s in a particularly good mood.

G-Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

He often takes things for granted. Especially in the beginning of the relationship. But once you become more intimate with each other he spends every day thinking about how lucky he is to have you.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

Soooooo many secrets. About what he does, how he’s feeling, sometimes even if he’s unhappy with something you did. He’ll keep it all a secret and avoid your questions by asking another question to throw you off.

I-Inspiration (Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

You really change each other. He makes you feel grateful for what you have, and you make him feel grateful for...well everything. If he didn’t have you, he wouldn’t have near the drive to accomplish things relating to his ultimate.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

God...he gets so jealous. He doesn’t show it, but even you talking to other people can sometimes send a ping of jealousy right to his heart. He’ll laugh about it and join in on whatever conversation you’re having, sending a warning glare to whoever you were talking to. Now if someone was flirting with you...he’d go eerily quiet. He’d pull you away from that person and send a glare their way...but only in his eyes. His signature grin will be on his face the whole time, which is somehow scarier.

K-Kiss (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

He’d initiate your first kiss rather quick. He likes to show how he’s feeling with actions rather than words, so kisses will be frequent. As for how good he is...well he’s had SOME practice. He’s a very enthusiastic kisser if anything and that makes up for any lack of skill.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

“Y/n~” He would lean in close, making a blush form on your cheeks, “Guess what?”

“What?”

“You have a not so secret admirer~”

You would pause, not knowing if this was another one of his games.

You finally caved and asked “who?”

That’s when he leans up and kisses your cheek.

“Me! That’s who! You must be so happy to know your obvious feelings for me are returned!”

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

At first he is 100% against marriage. But...after getting closer to you his views have changed. Now...he actually has hope for the future as long as you’re in it. He would make a grand display of his proposal, going to the fanciest restaurant. He would tap his wine glass, just to get everyone’s attention. When things quiet down he’ll stand in front of you, looking more hesitant than you’ve ever seen him as.

“Marry me!” He would proclaim before putting on the ring before you had the chance to respond.

“Oh, it’s okay you don’t have to say it. I know you’ll say yes.”

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

He plays around with nicknames frequently, trying out each and every one he can think of and taking note of the ones that worked the best on you. His personal favorite is darling. He likes that it shows how dear you are to him.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?)

He buys you a lot...a LOT of things. You mentioned something the day before? Oh look it’s on your doorstep. He catches you looking at something in one of the store windows? He’s dragging you in to buy it. This makes it rather obvious when he’s in love because you will always be wearing SOMETHING he bought you. Be it a new shirt or jewelry, whatever makes you happy.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

He’s very upfront. He’ll let anyone and everyone know that you’re his. He’s yours too but...he would never admit to it. He would kiss you if you were on stage in front of a thousand people. He doesn’t care what others think, he just likes to show you’re together.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship?)

He’s a good leader, so if anything began to bother you he would take control with no hesitation. This has helped in many ways, ranging from wanting to leave an event to indecision about a major matter.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliche or rather creative?)

He CAN be romantic. But he has to be in a good mood. Usually...you put him in that good mood. Other days he’s not up to it at all. He won’t even want to cuddle on the bad days, even if he knows it would really help.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?)

He may not help, but he’ll keep you company while you work/study. Though...often times he’s more of a distraction than not. “Y/N! Play with me!”

“Not now i’m working/studying.”

“Aw, you’re no fun! Fine! I’ll go keep myself entertained then.”

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice up their relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?)

He loooooves to try new things. New restaurants, a new game that was just released, any date ideas you bring up, he’ll try anything once.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

He isn’t very empathetic, and he doesn’t know EVERYTHING about you. But every once in a while he’ll surprise you by bringing up something you had talked about months ago. When you tell him something about yourself...he’ll remember it forever.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What’s it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

His crew comes first, no questions asked. He’ll pester you to join as well, he sees it as combining his two favorite things.

W-Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon)

He cuddles you in his sleep. Even on days he won’t want to cuddle, once he’s asleep he’s entirely wrapped around you.

X-Xoxo (are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

He likes to show his affection through touch, and it’s near constant. Hand holding, arm around your waist or shoulders, even just sitting as close to you as possible so your sides touch. He kisses you many...many times a day. It’s one of his favorite ways to show he cares.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?)

He’s an absolute wreck without you. When you’re gone he’ll text you a million times about random stuff. Sometimes it’s weird facts he learned, others are over-exaggerated stories of things he’s done with his crew.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for their relationship? If so, what kind of?)

He would fight someone for you. He would risk his own life...just for a chance to get back at anyone who hurt you. Now...he wouldn’t leave his crew even if you desperately wanted him to, but he’d make you second in command if you ever wanted to join.

[blu-joons]

DATING MONSTA X HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴  Chae Hyungwon

A ⇴ AFFECTION

At any point in the day, Hyungwon will come to you for affection. If he’s feeling sleepy or needy especially, he’ll often lay in your lap as a call for you to pay attention to you, usually settling there for quite some time.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The way the two of you met was all a little bit cliché. Hyungwon accidentally bumped into you whilst you were waiting in queue at a clothing store. He was quick to apologise over and over again, even offering to pay for what you bought to say sorry, but after you met his eyes, you told him coffee together would do the trick.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Hyungwon was quite a quiet character anyway, but the day he chose to confess, you could almost hear a pin drop between the two of you. He was terrified of rejection; he didn’t want to get things wrong and end up ruining your friendship. When you eventually pushed him into telling you what was going on, you couldn’t believe how nervous he had become, especially when you felt the same way as he did all along.

D ⇴ DATES

Your dates varied a lot, neither of you had one thing that you particularly liked to do on a date night. A lot of your dates depended on your schedules and how much time you had, some nights the only answer would be an hour together with a takeout between you both, but that was alright. The two of you spoke often about how you wanted to just make the most of the time you spent together as opposed to how you spent that time. Takeout and a lazy night quickly became a favourite date night for you both.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

It’s well known that Hyungwon was in a long-term relationship previously, so he’ll definitely know how to treat a woman. He’s also not afraid of publicly dating, he knows he has the company’s backing to date which makes life a lot easier for him too. In the early stages of your relationship, he was a little nervous, it had been a while for him since he was last in a relationship, but as the two of you move forwards, he remembers all the things he loves about being in a relationship and loves to show you off to the fans too.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

The two of you very rarely argue, you’re both quite calm people, it takes a lot for the both of you to argue with one another. So much so, that you usually end up talking more about the arguments you have with other people rather than each other. You’d often sit up with each other late at night and vent about the problems you had with other people. Arguments between the two of you were very rare as neither of you were confrontational people, to most people looking in on the two of you, it felt like the two of you really did have the perfect relationship as the two of you always got on like the best of friends.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

His family were very keen to meet you as Hyungwon made no secret of how much he liked you. They had high expectations, but thankfully you far exceeded them when you met them. They’d never see Hyungwon as happy as when he was with you which was all they ever wanted for him, to see him with a smile.

H ⇴ HOME

Being one of the younger members, Hyungwon was a little reluctant to move out of the dorm. He didn’t want to rush into moving out just in case anything did go wrong. You were always very understanding of how cautious he was, and besides, you loved spending time at the dorm with the other members too.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Hyungwon was the first to say, ‘I love you,’ one evening just before you went to sleep. You weren’t expecting it at all, and if he was honest, he was sure that you were asleep, so when your eyes fluttered open and stared across at him, he didn’t quite know how to react or what to do, looking away from your wide smile.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

He knows that he’s not the loudest person in the room, so he’ll often use physical touch to make sure that he has your attention. Hyungwon isn’t someone who gets jealous easily, he’s comfortable in his relationship and he’s incredibly trusting that even though you might sometimes talk to someone else, he’s the one for you. There are definitely times when he can feel himself begin to get jealous, but he’s good at handling his behaviour and remaining calm, and if he feels like he needs to, he’ll talk to you about it after.

K ⇴ KIDS

Having a family still feels a little way off for Hyungwon just yet, he’d love to one day, especially with you, but he has plenty of other things that he wants to achieve before then. The two of you are very open with how you see your futures going, and nine times out of ten the two of you tend to be on the same track. Having children is definitely something the two of you dream about and agree that in a few years it might be a possibility.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Hyungwon will often make you laugh without even realising that he’s doing. He’s not as much as a jokester as some of the other members, but his facial expressions will often make you chuckle when someone else is talking. When the two of you are alone, he gains a little more confidence in trying to make you laugh by being a fool. He wants to make you smile more than anything else, that’s his main goal in being by your side, so as long as he’s doing that, then he’s a happy man, and an even happier boyfriend.

M ⇴ MISSING

He’s quiet anyway, but he will be silent on tour whenever he’s missing you. The boys will all rally around him quickly when he’s missing you and try hard to cheer him up. They’ll also often tell you how he’s coping as he tends to put on a brave face for you. Every morning when he wakes up, he checks his phone to see if there is a message from you, then he’ll check the date, and remember how many days there are until the flight home. It’s his best way of coping, knowing that each day when he wakes up, he’s one day closer to waking up with you beside him again. Whenever you call him, you’ll always let him know what the boys have told you and try your best to reassure him and pick up his down mood.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Hyungwon loves to call you ‘love.’  There are a few other nicknames that sometimes appear, but that’s the main one he loves to use as he feels that it perfectly sums up his feelings for you, that he loves you.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

In the same way you are with his, Hyungwon is obsessed with your lips. He loves to kiss them, or feel them trail along his body, wherever that may be.

P ⇴ PDA

Affection is quite common from Hyungwon in public, it’s often his preference over being vocal around you. Most of the time you’ll feel his hand rest somewhere against your body, it’s a great comfort for him to have you there, and he also likes to make sure that he knows where you are as often as possible so he can care for you.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Whenever a new meme appears of him, he’ll always be quick to ask you if you’ve seen it. Most of the time you definitely will have done because you love to tease him about them, but you’ll still make him show you so you can watch them again.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Every time that Hyungwon goes away on tour, he steals something from your wardrobe and wears it during every show. It’s usual something small and subtle as a lot of your wardrobe is too small for him. He never tells you when he does it though, you’ll just open your wardrobe one day to try and find the hat you like only for it not to be there. Straight away, you’ll always know exactly who the culprit was for it going missing.

S ⇴ SEX

His lips work hard during intimacy, either by whispering sweet nothings into your ear or working their way along your body with kisses. Hyungwon is very much in tune with the fact his lips are a massive tun on for you and will definitely use that to his advantage when he’s close to you. He’s always very affectionate and very slow, he loves to take his time with you and make sure he appreciates every part of your body.

T ⇴ TEXTS

Hyungwon will often text you throughout the day to see how you are. He loves knowing what you’re up to and what your plans are and will often try and organise a surprise visit in amongst your hectic days to see you.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

He loves how well you’ve become a part of his family, not just by his side, but with his family too. He was scared to love for a long time, but you reminded him how special it could be and how important it was in life.

V ⇴ VACATION

Hyungwon loves to travel and having you to travel with now makes things a lot more special. Any time he can get you to travel with him, he’ll bring you along and make sure to show you as much of the world as possible. Exploring is one of his favourite things in the world and getting to do it with you too makes it a whole lot more fun.

W ⇴ WHINING

If he can’t sleep at night, that’s when Hyungwon will moan the most. He turns to you to try and help him sleep and try and comfort how busy his mind is.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Again, you’re a big fan of his lips, and he will definitely use them often to shower you with affection. Similarly, you know how much he loves your lips too, so you’ll often kiss him when he least expects it, creeping up behind him. Your kisses together are always full of a lot of love and passion, neither of you are fans of quick pecks or meaningless kisses, you’d rather savour those moments to create a much more powerful and meaningful kiss.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were everything to Hyungwon, the perfect distraction that he needed.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

He sleeps, a lot, and he loves to have you beside him whilst he sleeps. You’ll often end up having to wriggle out of his grasp at some point because he holds you so tightly for so long, but somehow Hyungwon will never even stir.

---

Masterlist

[cake-writes]

Drift (Part One)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Age Gap (not huge because Reader’s in her early 20s but it’s very present), slight DD/lg undertones (no D/s dynamics), Borderline Personality Disorder (Reader), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Fluff, Slow Burn, Violence, Angst, Eventual 18+

Exerpt: It does feel kind of nice, having him look after you like this – having a more experienced agent take care of you. If you weren’t so completely fucked up right now, you’d be mortified. It’s your first mission, for one, and for two, you barely know him. Hell, you still call him Mr. Barnes, but here he is, saying honey and sweetheart to make you feel a little better.

A/N: my hand slipped 💀

You’re fresh. Green. Not yet a ‘real’ woman, but no longer a girl; somewhere in that topsy-turvy place in between where you’re still unsure of yourself and your purpose in life. You haven’t yet had the success that comes along in your twenties because you’ve been too wrapped up in your studies, too wrapped up in academic achievements to focus on other things. 

And because of that, you haven’t been exposed to real failure. Not really. Not yet.

A new recruit, straight out of the Academy. Top marks in all of your classes. Excellent in theory, untested in practice. Training only. It makes sense that you’re a prime candidate to poach for the compound, but you’re still so young.

Too young. Innocent. Incorruptible.

At first, anyway. It doesn’t last long.

Your first mission breaks you in – shatters your wrist and your confidence when you get a taste of real failure. It’s nothing like a bad grade on a test, nothing like the embarrassment of getting too drunk in public, but tangible, acrid, dark. The taste burns acidic on your tongue, a bitter contrast to those sweet childhood dreams you’ve been chasing since you were a little girl. 

Cotton candy justice.

Now you’re in limbo, drifting away with the chilly spring breeze. The stars shine brightly overhead, and you stare up at them, dazed and confused and no longer sure of your place in the world.

There’s the Southern Cross. How pretty. How unfamiliar.

What country are you in again?

Bucky swears low and rough over comms, but you hear his voice sound from a few yards away, too. You don’t bother to turn your head because he’s already at your side, kneeling down beside you, snapping his fingers in front of your sight line. “Come on. Hey. Look at me.”

Unfocused. Unresponsive.

The moon’s full tonight and so, so bright. You just can’t look away.

“Shit,” he swears again, a little louder this time. “Agent down. Conscious but unresponsive.” A brief pause as he checks for a pulse on the dead body at your feet. “She already took out our target.”

“Looks like the new girl’s got some skills,” comes Sam’s wry joke crackling in your earpiece. “Headed your way with evac.”

You want to laugh, but all you can focus on is the coppery tang of blood in your nostrils. It’s not yours. You shot the target of this mission at point blank, but not before he snapped your wrist like a twig trying to wrestle your handgun from you. Not before two accidental discharges very nearly cut through your abdomen. Not before he slammed you to the ground – slammed the back of your head into the pavement.

The memory makes you shiver. Or maybe it’s the breeze.

Bucky’s hand comes to rest on the side of your face, then, to offer some semblance of warmth, and your eyelids flutter shut. He feels good. He feels warm.

“Hurry up,” Bucky orders, but he sounds a little more distant, now. “She’s in rough shape.”

Sam says something else on comms, and you don’t quite understand the words anymore. They sound blurry, almost like you’re underwater. 

You’re drifting along, drifting away—

Until Bucky jars you awake with a startling pat to your cheek.

“Hey.” Sharp words draw you back into the present, but they hold none of the bite he uses when addressing Sam. “I need you to stay awake for me.”

A groan bubbles forth from your lips when you somehow manage to pry your eyelids open again. It’s probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Your entire body is begging for you to sleep, to rest, to never wake up again.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know,” Bucky murmurs, voice soft with sympathy, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I know you’re tired. Does anything hurt?”

You mumble something indecipherable; it’s meant to be a ‘no,’ but that’s not how it comes out. Pupils dilate further over half-lidded eyes as you stare up into sudden blackness.

What happened to the stars? What happened to the moon?

With a grunt, you try to move— try to push yourself up in a panic.

Something’s wrong. What happened to the sky?

A whimper escapes your throat when you put pressure on your broken wrist, but Bucky’s quick to put a stop to any unnecessary movements. 

“You’re okay,” he soothes, easing you back down onto the ground and the cold, coarse gravel digs uncomfortably into your back. “You’re doing great. Just stay still, okay?”

“I can’t—” Things are starting to feel a little less blurry, now.  “The stars—”

A gasp for air. A stuttered breath. 

Panic.

“Breathe,” Bucky reminds you, but when your breathing only goes shallower, he adds gently, “Here. With me.”

His deep breath prompts your own, and after a couple of seconds, he exhales. You can’t help but follow suit, because his presence just commands you to listen. Gentle authority. Another breath and you follow along again, and again, until you’re not hyperventilating anymore. 

You don’t know how long it takes, but it’s like magic. 

Only when you’re sufficiently calmed down does he try for an answer. “What about the stars?”

You’d almost forgotten.

So you blink your eyes open again in search of the night sky, but everything’s still dark.

Panic starts to set in again, and in a fit of desperation, you reach your hand out for something, anything tangible to grasp onto. It’s the one with unshattered bones and unshattered hope, extending towards the sky like you can just turn the lights back on with a switch on the wall.

You can’t. It hurts.

Another breath. In. Out. 

It’s not so calming this time.

Bucky takes that same hand into his and brings it to his chest, where you can feel his steady heartbeat under your palm. It’s soothing. It’s grounding.

It’s not enough.

“I can’t see,” you finally manage in a delicate rasp. “I can’t see anything.”

Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, and then he’s on comms again. “Damn it, Wilson, still waiting on that evac—”

“Am I— Am I dying?” you ask quietly, and you hear the sound of your own voice in your ear echo through Bucky’s open mic. You don’t sound like yourself at all, but fragile, scared, broken. Like a child. Like a little girl, and that’s exactly how you feel. A sob finally escapes. “I’m— I’m scared, Mr. Barnes—”

“You’re gonna be just fine,” he reassures you, gently, leaning forward to cup your cheek with his free hand. “You’ve got a concussion. Can you remember your training?”

Think back to the Academy. 

Thinking makes your head hurt, though, and you wince. 

Vision loss is a symptom. Memory loss. Drowsiness. Headache.

You let out another whimper, then, as the splitting pain finally makes an appearance; it spreads like wildfire from the back of your head through the rest of your skull, a searing headache that makes your wrist feel like nothing in comparison. Even the memory stings. 

Comms crackles to life again – Sam’s just a couple minutes out, now. “Keep her comfortable,” he instructs. No jokes this time.

As if you could be comfortable—

“Screw you,” you groan in agony, but Bucky’s words echo back: You’re gonna be just fine.

“Let me have a look, okay?”

Bucky’s voice is still so soothing, almost like a velvet blanket lulling you to sleep, and you can’t help but make a sound in the affirmative. He’ll take care of you. It hurts, but you’re not alone.

That’s when he releases you to gently palpate your scalp. It hurts to move, and your arm goes limp without his support; your fingers quickly ball in the fabric of his shirt to keep your hand where it belongs. And then they tighten further, when he locates the very obvious goose egg at the back of your skull.

“There it is,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, but he follows it with, “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here soon.”

“But it hurts—”

“I know.” He slowly starts to stroke your hair, meant to distract, to comfort, and it’s effective. “The adrenaline’s worn off, honey. It’s gonna hurt.”

It does feel nice, having him look after you like this – having a more experienced agent take care of you. If you weren’t so completely fucked up right now, you’d be mortified. It’s your first mission, for one, and for two, you barely know him. Hell, you still call him Mr. Barnes, and here he is, saying honey and sweetheart to make you feel a little better. 

You can’t deny that it’s working when you find yourself leaning into his touch.  It still hurts, but this is... tolerable. It might even be nice. 

Just a little.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you mumble.

He stills for a moment, but at your insistent tug on his shirt, he continues to stroke your hair – and you sigh.

“Oh... That feels nice.”

It’s a good distraction from the awful pain, too.

“Must not be hurting too bad anymore if you’re making jokes,” he comments after a beat, but he doesn’t stop again. Instead, the next little while passes in near-silence – a pained whine here, a comforting, “shh,” there, until your evac finally arrives.

“What the hell, man,” Sam says in annoyance as he straps you down to a board. “’Rough shape’ my ass. She looks like she got hit by a train.”

“I can still hear you,” you chide, “and I think I look pretty good.”

Another joke, because they both know you can’t see.

Sam snorts. “That’s a good sense of humour, new girl. Don’t lose it.”

The straps stop coming, then, and you tense up in alarm when you don’t know what’s happening – at least until Bucky speaks softly into your ear, “You’re gonna have to let me go now, sweetheart.”

It’s whisper-soft – secretive, almost – and you realize, then, that you’re still holding onto his shirt. You’re too young, too green, so much that you’re holding onto him like a lifeline. 

That’s when the mortification sets in.

Your grip immediately goes slack, and the heat rushing to your face spurs on an even worse headache as the two of them load you onto the Quinjet. The only thing that keeps you awake this time is the stupid banter between them – but knowing Bucky is there is what makes you feel like everything’s going to be alright.

Part Two

[tealtoedtoots]

Two Super Vampires Walk Into a Bar...

“To me, immortality was something utterly unimportant and trivial. All that has ever mattered to me was living up to my code.”

Wamuu and Esidisi go out on the town and have a little heart to heart about the future.

     Wamuu wasn’t usually one for drinking. Not often, anyway. He’d partake on  occasion, but ultimately, he had decided that this particular diversion was not for him. He didn’t like the idea of not being in complete control over his emotions. 

So it was with some reluctance, one night, that he agreed to go out drinking with Master Esidisi. 

It was not long after they crossed the sea. They had been traveling for some time until they found themselves in a magnificent coastal city, marked with gorgeous architecture and bustling with life. Esidisi, ever lively, found himself with just enough spare energy to fancy a drink or two somewhere in this exciting new place. Kars did not share his enthusiasm. By the time they found a place to stay, the red-eyed man, perhaps a tad more red-eyed than usual, was ready for a rest. 

So it was up to the dutiful Wamuu to accompany his master for the night. Truthfully, it wasn’t just his aversion to alcohol that made him wary of sharing a drink with Esidisi. He had much on his mind. The voyage had been quite unsettling for all of them, and Wamuu was left wondering if this grand quest for complete immortality was worth such risks. Or if he wanted such a thing at all. Ordinarily, he’d keep such doubts to himself, but he was terrified of the liquor loosening his tongue. And, shrewd as Esidisi was, it wouldn’t take much to see right through him. 

Still, his master wanted to go out, and he couldn’t just let him go alone. So, with some good-humored advice from Kars, (“Make sure he behaves.” “Yes, Lord.” “Don’t let him start anything.” “Yes, Lord.” “Don’t get stuck somewhere before sunrise.” “Yes, Lord.”) they were off on their little tour around town. 

Even at so late an hour, the city was fluttering with people, between and around such grandiose structures the likes neither of them had ever seen. They walked under several beautiful arches made of limestone and marble with impressive friezes. They passed by a large nymphaeum, covered in mosaic with a particularly striking fountain. And then there was the theater, so enormous the two found it hard to believe there was any spectacle that could draw a large enough crowd to fill it even half full. They finally settled at a tavern of sorts. A cozy little place with a lovely view of the city. They sat in contended silence for a while, Esidisi’s cup already half-empty, Wamuu’s untouched. It was a truly beautiful night, and Wamuu was quite taken with the view.

“So, what’s troubling you, Wamuu?”

Wamuu flinched at the suddenness. What?? How could he know? He hadn’t even drunk anything yet! Had he been obvious? 

“Oh…” He wasn’t ready to have this talk. Leave it to Master to charge headfirst into a potentially difficult conversation. He thought quickly. “I was merely wondering...what happens after we obtain the red stone.” 

“Ah.” he seemed satisfied with the answer. “Well, I’d imagine once we’ve achieved our goal and are made properly invincible, Kars and I will travel at our leisure. See the world in a new light. Maybe take an overseas trip that isn’t miserable.” he winked at Wamuu over his cup before taking a sip. “You and Santana are welcome to join us of course, but ultimately, your eternity is yours to spend as you see fit.”

The two went quiet again, a little less comfortable this time. The last part of his reply seemed to hold some weight to it, a certain melancholy. They were both already missing Santana, which made the possibility of parting ways sting more than it normally would have. In the silence, Wamuu was surprised to find himself compelled to speak truthfully after all. He still hadn’t touched his drink, and yet whether it was the ambience of the place or his master’s subtle change in expression, he couldn’t fight the urge to confess. 

“Master...what if I didn’t want to be an immortal being?”

Esidisi looked at him in surprise, and immediately Wamuu regretted not keeping his mouth shut. He had to be livid, how could he not be? He just admitted that he didn’t want the glorious life they were working so hard to achieve, and partially for his sake. He must seem so selfish. He tried to backpedal.

“H-hypothetically.” Nice save.

Esidisi looked intently at the man beside him for a time, then relaxed his face. “Of course he doesn’t.” he thinks. “This earnest and honorable fool would never have an earnest and honorable battle again. It would utterly take the wind out of his sails.” As a warrior, he understood. Esidisi had had countless battles over his long life, some of them exciting and perilous, most of them far too easily won. And though he still enjoyed the thrill of combat, he’d long made his peace that there were few of this world that could measure up.

But Wamuu was still young, and had done most of his living by their side. No doubt, he’d need to have many more encounters before he could be satisfied. He put aside his disappointment and spoke evenly.

“Well, Wamuu,” he turned forward again and took another sip. “It’s as I’ve said. Once the stone is ours, you may live your life as you please.” 

Esidisi didn’t seem upset, but Wamuu was still uneasy. “And...Lord Kars?”

Esidisi stilled. Ah. That might be a different matter. Kars wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear this. Esidisi knew it came from a place of love, of course he wanted Wamuu to live forever with no threats or fears to burden him. They both did. It would be giving him everything. It would be giving him the whole world. He wouldn’t understand why he would reject such a gift, just so he can play around with some lesser beings, and at the possible cost of his life at that. 

“Hmm. I won’t lie to you, Kars will likely be furious.” Wamuu knew the answer, but his heart sank anyway. 

“But don’t let it torment you. You know how he can be. He’ll come to accept it in due time, and sooner rather than later. He cares for you deeply, after all.” he claps a warm hand on his back. “And anyway, knowing Kars, it won’t be long after conquering the sun before he needs something new to obsess over. Maybe his next mission will be building you the perfect opponent.” he grinned. 

Wamuu smiled. He didn’t know whether the older man was joking or not, and he had a suspicion he wasn’t so sure himself, but his words cheered him considerably. He was glad that he came out tonight.

“You know, Master, I’m somewhat surprised a fierce warrior such as yourself would be so willing to give up his combative lifestyle for an eternity of peace and tranquility. With all due respect, it doesn’t seem like you.”

Esidisi chuckled. “Who said anything about peace and tranquility? Believe me Wamuu, even in paradise, if there’s trouble, I’ll find it.” His voice and his smile soften. “Besides, even if I’ve already fought my very last battle, a whole lifetime of them can only pale in comparison to an infinity with my mate.” Wamuu made a commendable effort to keep his nose from wrinkling. “Maybe someday you’ll find someone for whom you feel the same.”

He wasn’t so sure about that. He thought for a second. “Honestly, I think I’d rather spend the remainder of my time with you and Lord Kars.”

Esidisi barked a hearty laugh. “Don’t be so quick to decide that, Wamuu! That’s a long time, you may very well be sick of us by then.” He smiled at him warmly.

Wamuu smiled back. He doubted it.

It was then that Esidisi noticed Wamuu’s cup, still filled to the top. With an exaggerated sigh, he held out his hand. “Alright Wamuu, give me the drink. You haven’t touched it all night.”

Wamuu looked at the cup, then back to his master. An impish smile formed on his usually serious face. Suddenly, on a whim of rare playfulness, he jerked his head back and gulped the whole thing down in mere seconds! It was not a small drink. 

Esidisi was stunned for the second time that night. He stared at him in disbelief before erupting into a fit of raucous laughter. “‘Atta boy! ‘Atta boy!! Let’s have another!” he shouted while slapping him vigorously on the back. “Maybe you can taste it this time!”

Wamuu wasn’t usually one for drinking, but he had a wonderful time that night.

EXTRA

The door opened with a loud bang, and Esidisi entered with a flourish. He found Kars in the middle of the room, comfortably laying on some blankets and looking over some scroll he managed to get his hands on.

“Why! Is that Kars, the brilliant and gorgeous love of my near-immortal life? Or is that simply the most exquisite and oddly colored mop I have ever seen?”

Kars huffed a laugh and looked at him with a sly smile. 

“It’s Kars.” Esidisi said simply, kissing his cheek and making himself comfortable against Kars’ back.

“Your flattery needs work.” he turned back to his reading, still smiling.

“Really? I thought that was pretty good for me.”

“You’ve had better.” he glanced behind him. “Where’s Wamuu?”

Oh. That was a good question. Esidisi opened his eyes in realization. “Huh...he was right behind me…”

Kars sat up in alarm just before hearing a thud at the entrance. There he was, perfectly safe and completely hammered, lying right in the doorway. 

“...Wamuu? Are you alright?”

Wamuu giggled drowsily in response. He raised his arm in the air and swung it in a circle a few times before giving a thumbs up, before dropping it over his face.

Kars gave Esidisi a look. “What?? There was no stopping him Kars, the boy practically drank the whole place dry!” 

Kars got up with a sigh. “Oh, no he didn’t Esidisi, don’t fib.

“He did!”

Kars crossed the floor and leaned down, giving Wamuu a shake. “Wamuu.”

Wamuu opened one eye and looked at Kars. He gave him a broad and goofy smile. 

“Luvff you Daahd…”

That’s both masters he’s stunned tonight. Kars’ eyes widened and he pressed his lips together in shock. He was certainly not expecting that. “O-oh!” was all he managed. Wammu didn’t hear his master’s uncharacteristically inelegant reply, he was out again almost immediately. Kars could feel Esidisi beaming at him from across the room, and he was sure he could tell he was fighting a silly smile of his own.

“You both are incorrigible.”