#tagged them all but. Pearl is the one who is gonna beat the shit out of the person

[bispearlnets]

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: III

“You can have me tonight or never

I thought you understood

Baby, some people are meant to be loved and others just naked

So take what I’m willing to give, love it or hate it.”

—Wrong, Zayn and Kehlani

A/N: alright SO!!!! the original part 3 ended up being at the cusp of 50k words (because i have no self control) and that is a LOT to read in one go so it’s getting split into parts 3 and 4! which means!! double update laidese and germs!!!! part 4 will be posted this SUNDAY, AUGUST 16th at 5PM PST/8PM EST :D we hope you enjoy this chapter, feedback is greatly appreciated, and please please PLEASE!!! if you like it, reblog it!!! and if you want, go nuts in the tags!! every single one is read!!! it keeps content creators motivated 💌leyla @sunflowervolvimp3​ took the liberty of making an incredible playlist to go along with our story, so feel free to check it out and see if you can find any clues as to what’s in store for the characters 👀without further delay, here she is...buckle up 👁👁this is gonna be quite the ride

ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist

word count: 24.2k

content/warnings: cheeky banter over texts, The Crew dragging Niall to shit, more banter over a glass of cheap wine, vampire!harry showing up to “interior design” sessions looking like a runway model, some fwb smut, degradation kink, very mild mentions of blood, and some ugly tapestries that somehow lead to sexting

///

Y/N definitely puts Harry’s number to good use. Very good use.

In fact, during the span of the next month or so, Harry reckons that she pulls up his contact on her phone so often that she probably has him listed on speed dial. The assumption is dramatic and probably incorrect, on behalf of his arrogance, but with how much time they start spending together, it’s hardly a stretch.  

It all begins exactly a week after their first time meeting. 

Harry still hates clubs. 

He hates them more than he did last week. He hates them more than he did yesterday, more than he did this morning, and even more than he did a minute ago. He fucking despises them. 

And yet, as Harry stands here before the mirror in his enormous double-sink bathroom, fiddling with his damp hair as his flouncy dress shirt hangs unbuttoned from his broad shoulders, he’s absolutely positive he has never hated clubs more than right now. 

Niall got to pick the venue this time. He’d texted his choice in the groupchat (which is respectfully named Dinner Plans) about four hours ago, making sure to get the word out decently early so that everyone could start making their preparations, all in order for the crew to be on the move by nine P.M. 

It’s now nine thirty-seven, and everyone is fully set to leave at the agreed upon hour. Everyone except Harry. 

This, however, is not uncommon. He’s always the one that takes the longest to get ready, no matter how soon he starts. No one can remember an instance where Harry has ever been ready on time— which says a lot, considering most of the gang has years of memories from which they can pull. Mitch especially. With almost a century of friendship behind them, not once has the older vampire ever seen Harry stick to a deadline. His flare for being fashionably late is less a flare, and moreso an irritating burn. It always throws off their game a bit, but at this point, everyone has gotten used to the seemingly young vampire’s theatrics. 

So on this Friday night, there isn’t much more to do other than mold to his habits; Harry answers to no one except himself and it’s been that way for decades now, for a reason he’d rather not reminisce. He doesn’t owe anything to anyone, especially since he’s the one that always takes charge of getting them where they need to go, as well as getting them inside said destination. Complaining about their leader wouldn’t do the gang any good for a number of reasons, especially because Harry rarely ever listens. It is what it is— he’s just the way he is, and they’ve all learned to live with and respect that.

The funny thing? Harry does it on purpose, though his friends aren’t aware of it. He drags out the process of getting prepared simply so he can put off having to step inside one of those circus acts people refer to as clubs. He goes as slow as possible and does as much as possible, spreading seconds into minutes, and maybe— if he’s insistent enough and feeling particularly pesky— an hour. His record is an hour and twenty-eight minutes, which he wears with pride, much to his group’s unamusement. 

Harry knows no one will ever say anything about his annoying tendencies, unless they’re willing to volunteer themselves to take the reins for the night. Vampires are alert and productive, but only when they want to be— which is usually only when it benefits them— and only if they can muster up the patience for it. And frankly, none of the creatures he associates with have the patience required to deal with security, driving, and other obstacles the way Harry does. He’s indispensable, and therefore, everyone puts up with his shit. Quid pro quo has never been more effective. 

So here Harry stands, now thirty-eight minutes past the original time sorted for departure, carefully combing volumizing mousse into his slightly wet curls and spinning each ringlet around his index finger to give them the definition and bounce he’s so well-known for. Here he is, finishing up his post-shower routine as all of his friends mill around downstairs in his living room, waiting for him to come down so they can pack into his car and head out for the weekly hunt at whatever establishment has been deemed fit for the night. And here he is, taking his sweet time so he can be the signature pain in the ass that everyone hates to love. 

Once Harry has thoroughly coated all of his hair with the fluffy white cream, he pulls out his hair-dryer from the cabinet below his sink, snapping its accompanying diffuser into place and flipping his head upside down. He carefully scrunches his curls to his roots with the attachment, moving in thoughtful circles as he hums to the rhythm of a song he can’t be bothered to remember the name of. Staring down at his polished jet black heeled boots, he absentmindedly taps against the porcelain ground to the beat of the music, sighing wistfully as warm air circulates its way across his scalp. 

Harry turns his shoes to the side, admiring the detailing along the back of the heel. Across the curved surface is the word SUCKER, bedazzled onto the article with multicolored jewels, glitzing beautifully under the fluorescent lighting of his bathroom. The shoes had been a gift from a friend with connections in high places; more specifically, connections to the man who sits on the throne of the Gucci brand. Harry hadn’t questioned the present when he’d received it— only an idiot would bat a cautious eye at such a luxury. He’d fallen in love with them the second they landed in his palms, decked out in a gorgeous satin box and wrapped with sparkly black tissue paper. The only words that had dared leave his lips were, “Fuck, I think I just got hard.”

The shoes had fit like a charm, and he had wanted to save them for a special occasion. But given that he has hundreds of years worth of special occasions lined up for his future, he’d shrugged off his pickiness and yanked them out the back of his closet for tonight. What better way to show them off than at an overhyped disco hall? 

Harry flips his head right-side up once again, ruffling his fingers through his soft, shiny curls to check for any wet patches or stringiness. He rolls up the wire to his styling tool and puts it back in its designated spot, grabbing his favorite paddle brush and attentively filtering it through his hair until he gets the tousled waves that he’s grown so fond of sporting. He musses them until he’s satisfied with his appearance, nodding at himself casually in the mirror as he proceeds to wrap up the last few necessities he has left. 

Harry buttons his blouse, admiring it in the fogged mirror. It’s a flowy sheer black piece with holographic threads sewn through its expanse, the fabric continuously shimmering with every shift of his muscles from underneath. He leaves the last three holes empty to better show off the dark butterfly inking on his lean chest and the swallows suspended in flight along his collarbones. He doesn’t really have to leave the shirt open, given that the material is see-through to the point where it leaves very little to the imagination, obvious in how all the tattoos along his arms are clearly visible. But he does it either way— he likes it when people stare. He’s got the assets, he might as well flaunt them.

Harry loosely tucks the hem of the shirt along the brim of his high-waisted beige slacks, which he’d ironed with precision to an ideal fold. He opts out of a belt tonight, wanting to display the array of elegant buttons that line the front of his pleated trousers. The pants hang slightly flared around his ankles, and if someone’s interests were intent enough, they might catch a glimpse of his favorite socks underneath the cusps, the words FUCK IT printed across the dark cotton fabric. He always makes sure to have an aspect in his outfit that could make for neat conversation.  

The vampire pulls out one of his drawers, ghosting his fingers over his collection of jewelry before picking out a pearl necklace and his father’s gold-plated cross necklace, as well as a colorful array of rings. He makes sure to retrieve the most significant two, as always— his lionhead amethyst daylight ring and his mother’s opal. He never goes anywhere without them. 

After he’s slipped on those accessories, bending and stretching his fingers for good measure and feeling everything settle into place, he picks out the gold cross earring that matches his necklace. It used to be part of a pair that belonged to his sister. As he watches the gold twinkle in the artificial light, he briefly wonders what happened to its twin, but pushes the thought away before it leads him down a path of pessimistic speculations. 

Harry loops the dangly piece through his earlobe, sighing through his nose as his gaze jets around his entire look, searching for any possible faults he could tend to that would prolong the inevitable— another night of drunken morons and thick synthetic smoke. 

Harry decides to fold the cuffs of his shirt up to his elbows, knowing that it makes his veiny forearms look appealing. He rummages through his selection of colognes before deciding to go with his trusty Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille, spritzing a bit along specific pressure points on his neck where a pulse would otherwise be present, following along with the insides of his wrists. The scent of cloves, sugar-frosted vanilla, and cedar wood envelope him in a warm ambiance. After that task is complete, he fusses with his necklaces for a minute or so, settling the cross between his pectorals and resting the rosey pearls across his clavicle, fingering at their smooth surface in thought. Much to his defeat, everything seems to be in order, down to his freshly lacquered black nails. It’s not his fault he’s nearly flawless. His long— and unfortunate— extension on life had given him a plethora of years to work himself into a state of physical perfection. There’s only so much one can do to their appearance before it becomes superiorly stagnant. 

Harry tunes his heightened hearing for a second, listening in to the conversation his friends are entertaining on the first level of his condo. Niall’s voice is the first one that comes through, unsurprisingly. He’s always the loudest and has zero filter, present in how he’s freely ranting about Harry’s exaggerated mannerisms as he paces back and forth across the floor, footsteps heavy. No one seems to be paying him any mind— As usual, Harry thinks to himself, snorting softly— because everyone appears to be caught up in their own personal lives, too lost in gossip and exchanging opinions to give the Irish vampire any thought. 

None of his gang seem bothered by his lack of rush, but Harry knows he can’t keep them waiting forever. Fridays are the day they’d all collectively agreed to hunt together and it had been as so for almost twenty years. Being the leader, Harry can’t let his childish distaste for nightlife get in the way of what’s best for the group. He needs to hunker down on his selfish inclinations and be a responsible friend, or else a human might not be the only person Niall sinks his fangs into tonight.

With one final lingering stare at his reflection, Harry goes to retrieve his phone from its face-down position on the dark marble counter, simultaneously reaching for the light switch to begin powering down his apartment for the next couple of hours until he returns. Hopefully with a pretty girl hanging off his arm and less of a burn in the back of his throat. Although Harry may be cynical, he’s also practical; if he’s going to have to spend eternity on this planet, he may as well try to conserve enough energy to make it bearable. After decades of adjusting to electricity, the last thing Harry wants is to return to candlelit rooms and going to bed in time with the sun. 

The sudden chime that shrieks from his device causes him to jump a tad, brows furrowing in mild confusion for a few reasons. First, because it’s such an odd coincidence that right as he went to grasp it, his smartphone had gone off; it’s almost spooky. Second, because anyone who would normally dare message him at this hour is currently sequestered downstairs on the cushions of his sectional sofa, waiting for him to emerge from his room. Who else could possibly need to contact him this late, especially at the beginning of the weekend? 

Harry flips his red iPhone curiously (yes, he’d bought it in red for the purpose of irony), peering down at the unknown number shining back up at him from the screen. 

The text is simple enough: Hey, accompanied by three disco ball emojis. 

After a few seconds of blank blinking and adamantly searching through his mind for a clue as to who this could be, the answer smacks him square between the eyes. The memories come to him in quick flashes. 

A bald bouncer with a stupid name. A two-story room with seven foot tall speakers and a bar nuzzled in the corner. A group of loud, tipsy girls in stilettos and glittery dresses. One girl, sitting amidst the ruckus looking alone and indifferent while everyone around her gave into inebriated chaos. Mitch urging him to go talk to her. The overwhelming smell of honey and lavender. Gentle caresses placed across the tattoos painting his arms. Pretty lips the color of fresh blood, drained glasses of liquor, and witty banter exchanged between suggestive glances and cheeky grins. Shouldering through a crowded dance floor with the young woman in tow. Settling her into the passenger’s seat of his Cadillac and feeling heat explode across his cold cheeks when she’d yanked him down by his collar, kissing him like his lips were her only source of air. 

A quaint apartment complex, flickering lights in a corridor, and a worn couch. A warm mouth, smudged lipstick, teary eyes, and the gentle, shaky echo of, “I want to make you feel good.” High-waisted silk pants discarded on the floor, a cream lace blouse, and pastel pink lingerie. Thighs squeezing his head as her sweet taste spilled across his tongue. The mortal’s bare back pressed to his chest as he worked his hips roughly into her, mumbling dirty promises against her ear. Sugary whimpers and needy pleads. The warm, tangy flavor of her blood filling his mouth and sedating the burning in his throat. Childish giggles shared in a tiny flat, her warm fingers sewing between his icy own and tugging him into her room. A sleepless night full of steady breaths and only one heartbeat. A stupid tapestry and an ugly popcorn ceiling. A late morning strewn with sarcastic jokes mumbled over the rim of a coffee mug. Pulling his favorite t-shirt over his head and inhaling the sweet smell that had been glued to every thread. 

Making a drastic decision and typing his information into her phone. 

Harry doesn’t mean to speak aloud, but the name slips down his tongue as easily as he’d drawn moans from hers. “Y/N.”

It’s not like he didn’t remember her, because he did. And it’s not like he hadn’t thought of her since, because he had. But it’d been in passing and barely relevant— faint recollections in the form of fleeting seconds. 

He’d thought of her a couple days ago, when he’d been wandering around the mall with his friends. They’d passed by a candle shop where, among all the mixed scents, there had been the unmistakable aroma of lavender and honey somewhere inside, smelling vaguely like her. She’d unwillingly made her way to the forefront of his mind when he’d gone to do laundry, picking out his baby blue Marc Jacobs t-shirt from his hamper and feeling his eyes dilate and fangs protrude— a result of animalistic instinct. As it turns out, she had left a bloodstain along the inside of the yellow collar of his tee. It was dried and crusted over by the time he found it, but the effect it had on him remained the same as the night he’d drawn it fresh from one of her arteries. He’d chucked the garment into the wash carelessly with hardly any hesitation. 

The girl had even elbowed into his brain during an important self-care session. He’d been sitting in his glorified bathtub— which, in shallow honesty, is just a jacuzzi— with his cock twitching in his palm while his head hung over the edge, an orgasm teetering along the trench of his stomach as he’d repeatedly thumbed over his tip. When he’d finally coaxed himself into a climax, moans running freely across the empty halls of his home, the image he saw in those short moments of pure bliss was of her. It was Y/N, sitting in front of him with her hands clasped between her bare thighs obediently, his prick running along the length of her warm tongue as her eyes pleaded for him to cum. 

But, as he’d stated before, the picture had only lasted a handful of seconds. As soon as his high had died down, it had disintegrated to ash, and he’d been left with a slightly startled mental imprint in its wake, which had faded away within minutes. He hadn’t thought of her since. 

That is, until now. Until the surface of his jade eyes are reflecting the message his phone had just received at nearly ten P.M., her identity obvious in her choice of emojis. 

A disco ball. The exact same character he’d assigned himself beside his name in her contact list. It was an inside joke; a result of the hatred they both shared for clubs, juxtaposed by the fact that they had met in one. It was a cute determining factor in their minimal acquaintanceship, and he’s always a sucker for a good paradox. 

Harry continues to stare down at the text message, trying to conjure up some type of answer. She couldn’t have caught him at a better time, quite literally. She could be his saving grace tonight, if he plays his cards right. Maybe if he swoons her enough, she’ll invite him over again, and he can avoid another night full of shit-faced idiots and blinding strobe lights. 

After careful consideration, he swipes open into their new text conversation and taps back a reply he deems appropriate, satisfied with how it shows his personality— the same one the mortal girl had been so taken with upon their first encounter. 

Well, this is awkward. I don’t remember giving my number to a disco ball.

The vampire waits idly for a response, watching as the message delivers and is immediately marked by a read receipt. He doesn’t know why, but he likes that she has them on. 

A swift pause follows— in which he has no doubt she’s probably attempting to come up with some type of witty remark to his— and then the three grey bouncing bubbles pop up, signifying that she’s typing back. His device bloops with her response, vibrating in his large palms.

Funny as ever, I see. It’s Y/N, from the club last Friday. 

Harry’s slightly disappointed by her humor-lacking answer, but he’ll keep the interaction going for curiosity’s sake. Some people are fun in person and just not that bright virtually. Can’t always have it all.

Oh, hey, Y/N! So are you translating on behalf of the disco ball that wanted to talk to me or…?

He can practically see her eye rolling up at the grungy ceiling of her room and that notion makes his lips twitch. 

Ha. Ha. Hilarious! But no, I’M the one who wants to talk to you, actually.

Harry can feel her sarcastic tone through this specific message and that gives him hope. Maybe she does have social networking skills. 

Oh. Well, give the disco ball my best regards then, will you? Don’t want it to think I’m being rude and casting it aside.

The creature can’t see it, but now Y/N’s lips are the ones jolting as she sits on her bed in nothing but a towel, damp hair beading water down her naked shoulders and back.

How caring of you! I’ll pass on the message.

A full grin begins to edge across Harry’s cheeks as she returns his banter just as easily as she would face to face, dimples threatening to indent into place. That’s more like it. 

His fingers poise over the keyboard, mind flicking through the different scenarios he could steer this conversation towards. He has to be perceptive and respectful, but also keep her entertained. He figures asking about her intentions is the best route to take, but he’ll do it subtly. Being too direct could come off pushy. 

So...what gives me the honor of basking in your presence tonight, hm?

He adds a thinking face emoji to the end of the text as an afterthought. He rarely uses emoticons, but now is as good a time as any to start, especially because he has to seem like someone who belongs to her generation, rather than a Victorian era immortal.

Well, you said if I wanted more interior design advice to shoot you a text so...here I am, seeking your expertise.

Harry allows himself to break into a wide simper at the shrouded compliment. It goes right to his ego, just as he likes it. She’s smart. 

My expertise, huh? I take it that my taste in wallpaper left you pretty satisfied last time, then?

A similar grin buckles Y/N’s face at his playful smugness and she bites into the side of her index finger to try and suppress it. After a moment of thought, she releases her digit from between her teeth and taps back. 

Very satisfied, yeah. Your help was greatly appreciated.

Harry scoffs coyly, leaning his shoulder against the lightly fogged black marble wall of his bathroom, his friends and plans for the night all but forgotten. He’s having too much fun flirting to pay anything else much mind. 

My pleasure, love. I’d be more than happy to give it again, anytime you need it. Just make sure to fill out the customer service survey my boss emailed you. I’m shooting for a raise and could really use the brownie points. 

“Cute.” Y/N murmurs to herself in amusement, her chest fluttering as a result of the pet name, alongside how well they’re getting on. It’s almost like no time has passed at all. Almost as if they’re friends. 

She’d been nervous to reach out, fearing that he’d see it and ignore her— or worse, leave her on read. Needless to say, this is going way better than she could’ve hoped

Already filled that out. Gave you five stars and everything. Would’ve given you six if it was allowed. 

Harry shifts his weight against the surface he’s using for support, chuckling softly as he gnaws along the inside of his cheek. He feels like a teenager with all of this borderline childish back-and-forth. He’s not mad about it, though. It’s pretty enjoyable. 

Thank you so much for your input! It’s taken into deep consideration. VERY deep consideration, if I recall correctly.  

Warmth pours into Y/N’s cheeks at his innuendo, and she somewhat hates that he can get her all flustered without actually being present. He’s really good at this. A true lucky strike, to put it in his own words.

I’m glad my standards are held so highly, especially since I’m trying to book another advising appointment with you. 

Is that so?

Very much so. How about tonight, if you’re free? I’ve got a dire situation with some wood paneling that I just can’t handle alone.

The vampire’s irises flare crimson red in triumph. It looks like he won't have to put himself through another mortifying ordeal tonight, after all. 

I’m on a tight schedule, Y/N. These expertise are highly sought after, yanno?

Y/N snorts at his pompous joke. “Moron.”

Another text comes in from Harry before she can even think of a response.

However, I think I might be able to squeeze you in for a help session today. Say in about 10 to 15 minutes? 

With newly brightened eyes, Y/N gives the message five repasses to make sure she’d interpreted it correctly. She can’t believe he’d agreed, especially at an hour when most people already have weekend plans cemented for the night. And by the length of time he’d given her to prepare, she’s extremely thankful she’d decided to shower prior to attempting a booty-call. 

Sounds perfect. Do you need me to send you my address or do you remember, by some miracle?

Don’t worry about it, pet. I have a pretty good memory of that night. You made it hard to forget. 

Another layer of heat crawls up her neck and into her ears. She knows this is a casual thing, at best, but for some reason, the idea that he had deemed her unforgettable makes her entire body feel like it’s glowing. She tries to brush it off, chalking up his compliment to how they’d seen each other barely a week ago so of course he remembered. It was fairly fresh in both their minds. 

But Y/N is from an area where she was just another face in the crowd— another timid girl in an ocean of a hundred small-town carbon copies— and she’d certainly never referred to herself as anything particularly special. To have Harry, who is such a refined and attractive person, who most likely has dozens of hook-ups under his belt, call her that? Of all people? It just hits differently. 

She shakes herself out of her head, remembering that a very interesting boy is waiting for a response on the other end of her phone.

Alright, then. See you in 10 to 15 minutes, Mr…? 

Y/N comes to the realization that she doesn’t even know his last name. She doesn’t know the last name of the guy she’d let into her house and between her legs. God, if her parents could see her now...They’d blow California into a crater. 

The name’s Styles. Harry Styles. 

She immediately recognizes the reference, chewing at her bottom lip to keep a tab on a girly giggle. It’s probably not healthy how easily he reduces her into such a dopey puddle. 

Alright, then, Mr. Harry Styles. See you soon?

Very soon. Can’t wait to show you the wood samples I just found.

With a sly smirk dimpling his cheeks, Harry pushes off the elegant stone wall of his luxury bathroom, locking his device and absentmindedly tapping it along his palm as he does a quick mind-sweep of the interaction he’d just had. He’s going to get his needs taken care of—both intimate and carnal— by a girl with whom he meshes with so well, no less. This night has taken an unexpected turn for the better, and he’s never been more thankful for making such a rash decision the morning after a one night stand. 

The shrill boom of an Irish accent breaks Harry out of his flirty stupor, the sound bounding up the stairs of his flat and echoing off the tiles in his bathroom. “Harry, did you fucking desicate up there, you prick?!”

The vampire’s head snaps to the side towards where the sudden intrusion is originating, clearing his throat softly before answering, mostly to anchor himself back into the present. He’d been too busy floating in a daydream bubble to give his friends any proper attention. “I’m on my way down!”

Harry flicks off the light switch to his master bathroom, heading into his dimly lit bedroom and scooping up his wallet from its usual spot on top of the dresser. He tucks it into the wide front pocket of his slacks along with his cell phone, rounding the king-sized mattress at the center of his space, footsteps muffled by the thick maroon carpeting across the ground. He stops under the doorframe, giving his room one last calculating glance to make sure he isn’t leaving anything important behind. Once the creature is sure he’s set, he reaches over and slides the switch meter all the way down until the hanging lamps on the ceiling fade to black. 

Harry clambers down the glass and metal staircase, passing the collection of original paintings organized across the expanse of the largest wall in his home. His friends spot him from the huge couch once he’s halfway down the steps, and of course Niall is the first to make his presence audible.

“Fucking finally.” The blue-eyed vampire groans in exasperation, shooting up from his seat beside Xander, arms falling across his lean chest. “I thought you’d died. Really died.”

Harry dismounts the last stair carefully, heeled boots making a soft clicking sound against the polished light-wash wood of his floorboards. He pushes a few rogue curls out of his eyes, the corners of his mouth jilting upwards teasingly as he regards the fellow immortal. “If I have to keep staring at that shitty paisley button-up you’re wearing, I just might.”  

Niall’s irritated expression shatters into one of sheer hurt, hands fumbling with the silk fabric of his shirt, lips melting into a pained pout as he contemplates it sadly. His tone comes out whiney and defensive. “Hey! I really like this one!”

Harry side-steps the boy, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Your fashion sense makes me question my friendship with you.”

Niall’s face pinches with anger, thick brows furrowing as he roughly swats the brunette’s wrist away. “And your dickhead attitude makes me question mine.” 

Harry’s jade eyes dance with evil glee as he returns his palm to where it had been resting before to give a curt squeeze, his rings playfully digging into the muscle beneath Niall’s top. “And yet here you are, sitting on my couch, waiting to get into my car. Funny how that works, innit? We benefit from one another. Mutualism at its finest.”

The Irish man shrugs himself free of his friend’s hold once again, glaring at him with darkening eyes, but there’s no true malice behind it. “More like parasitism.” 

“So are you two gonna kiss now or what?” Mitch’s soft, mocking voice butts in as he drifts up beside Niall, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark denim straight jeans and his long hair tied back into a low ponytail. He’s wearing a light-wash Rolling Stones t-shirt he’d gotten at a concert he and Harry had attended back in the eighties, along with a pair of scuffed up sneakers. Pretty casual for a club— too casual, in Harry’s opinion. “The sexual tension is killing the audience.” 

The green-eyed boy cranes his sight back onto Niall, raising his eyebrows in question and puckering his lips. “What d’you say, Ni? Wanna kiss this little disagreement better? I’m down.”

The pale young man makes a gagging noise, stepping away. “Don’t know where your mouth’s been. But if your bed fellows have anything to say about it, it’s nowhere good. I’m going to respectfully decline.” 

“There was absolutely nothing respectful in that response.” Adam chimes in, chuckling as he bumps Niall’s shoulder with his own, hands clasped casually behind his back. “You need to work on your people skills.”

“My people skills are fine.” Niall quips back sarcastically. “Harry just isn’t a person, he’s a demon.” 

“Technically, we all are.” The curly-haired vampire points out, walking over to his matte leather couch and retrieving a pin-striped, grey-black fitted blazer from its backrest. He tosses the jacket over his shoulders, shrugging it on and fixing the material over his torso, the curves of the piece accentuating the strong muscles of his back and the dip of his slender waist. “I just don’t care to hide it, really. Especially not when it comes to Niall’s taste in clothes. Which is rubbish, by the way. If that wasn’t clear before.”

“It was.” Niall deadpans, gaze half-lidded and petty.

Harry fixes the sleeves of his coat around his forearms, smoothing out any wrinkles and buttoning the cuffs. He momentarily ducks into the kitchen, his enhanced eyesight spotting the small digital time-stamp of the oven even from across the room. He has less than thirteen minutes before he has to be at Y/N’s flat. He should’ve suggested a longer time span.

Harry turns back around to fully face his crew, situating his collar into place by folding it along the back of his neck, appraising their expectant appearances. They’re all waiting for him. He’s the one driving, after all. 

The immortal clears his throat, hands dropping to pat at his blazer pocket, making sure that his keys are in his possession. He sighs lightly through his nose, a knowing grin trying to force its way onto his lips but he keeps it at bay, wanting to maintain a straight expression to garner less backlash for the news he’s about to break. 

“I’m not going.”

The pause that fills the atmosphere and the blank faces his friends dote are almost comical. Harry bats his eyelashes at them without a single twitch or jerk of his features. He wants them to understand he’s being serious.

After at least ten heartbeats— a guess, considering no one in the room has one to provide an accurate measurement— a raging exclamation explodes from behind the other three vampires in front of him. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Harry watches in mild amusement as Xander stomps up from behind the group, shouldering between Mitch and Adam and sticking him with a glower dark enough to instill fear in any living being. But Harry is hardly living, and he’s definitely not scared of a vampire who’s practically a newborn. Xander’s the youngest of them in terms of the immortality scale— he’d transitioned back in nineteen ninety-six when he was thirty, which gives the illusion that he’s older when in reality, he isn’t— so Harry’s strength easily outmatches his. Xander is basically the puppy of the circle, and he’s certainly yappy and annoying enough to support that title. His lack of age and wisdom is also probably why he’s the most explosive. 

Harry kinks an eyebrow up at the taller, tanned man, looping only one button through its designated hole in the middle of his jacket. That will allow him to show off what lies beneath it while also making sure the article won’t be a pest in the windy California night. “I’m not kidding. Something else came up that...peaked my interest.”

Xander’s fists momentarily clench by his sides and he then folds his arms across his lightly heaving chest, trying to hide his anger away along the insides of his elbows. He spits his words through gritted teeth, attempting to keep his cadence level. “What could have possibly come up so late that you only let use know after we waited for you for over an hour?”

Harry can’t stop himself from smirking this time around, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards with condescension. The statement that he produces is all too familiar to Xander, given that it mirrors the reply he had used on Harry exactly a week ago, when the leader of the group had asked him what his intentions were once they’d gotten inside their club for the night. “I have a date.”  

Xander’s entire face flushes a faint shade of cherry red. His forearms tighten across his body, tone more strained than before as he actively wills himself to remain calm. “A date?”

The shorter vampire smiles at him with fake innocence, working his every nerve like it’s his job. Harry doesn’t know why, but pissing Xander off is always such a delectable pastime. “Yup. With a girl I met last week, actually.”

“You don’t go on dates.” Niall pipes up, looking around at the other men in the room in confusion, almost as if his comment should be obvious. “You rarely even spend the night. Said so yourself.” 

Harry shrugs one shoulder indifferently, checking his reflection in the closest section of the glass wall that overlooks the city skyline, the lights of the cars and buildings below twinkling otherworldly. “I guess it’s less a date and more a booty-call, to be honest. I only agreed ‘cause it’s easier than having to drag my ass to that horrid club you chose to spend hours trying to find someone. This meal’s already prim, proper, and served. And I know for a fact I’ll enjoy it, so there’s no real harm.” 

He turns back to Xander, the man’s peeved reaction tickling him more than he thought it would. “What was that you said last time, Xanny?”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Oh, yeah! I'm just grabbing a to-go box for my already prepped meal.”

Harry’s friend’s cheeks dye a deeper shade of crimson, dark veins webbing across the iridescent whites of his eyes for a flickering second. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

Harry counters the angry expression with a bright smile, his dialect dripping with arrogance. “Girls dig it. And you seemed to dig it, too, if I recall correctly. Remember? You might not. Post-orgasm amnesia and all that.” 

Xander takes a measured inhale, releasing it slowly and allowing his anger to ebb away gradually, ignoring Harry’s blast from the past. His next question is physically directed towards their ex-chauffeur, but is truly aimed at the gang as a whole. “Who’s going to take us, then?”

The curly-haired vampire shrugs his shoulders once again, uninterested in the topic that is quickly growing old. “You could take Niall’s car. Problem solved.”

The whole clique lives in the same condo complex, mostly due to convenience. It’s already tricky for vampires to find others of their kind, so it’s a miracle that they’d all managed to end up together in the first place. And it’s an even bigger miracle that they got along well enough to form a tight-knit coven, which is the closest thing any of them now have to family. Living in close proximity is the ideal way of maintaining that rare bond, plus it allows them to help each other in staying safe and keeping their urges in line. 

Since they all live in the same building, Niall’s car is in the garage right beside Harry’s, so transportation shouldn’t be an issue. They just always take his vehicle because he’s the only one that actually enjoys driving. 

“Are you mental? Like actually, genuinely insane?” Xander sputters in appalled shock. “Niall drives like a lunatic!” 

“Oi, piss off! Maybe you should learn to drive then, huh? Instead of having all those guys you shag take you everywhere.”

Xander ignores Niall’s insult, putting his palms up in disgust, backing away. “I refuse to get in a car with him behind the wheel. Dying once was good enough for me.”

“Did I miss the memo?” Niall snaps, glimpsing around at all the monsters standing around him, attitude tight with annoyance. “Y’know, the one where you all just decided to shit on me tonight?”

Harry bursts into an airy cackle, listing his head to the side as he gives Niall a humorous once-over, his dangly cross earring dabbing across the crisp cut of his coat’s shoulder blade. “You don’t necessarily make it hard, love.” 

Niall’s jaw clenches as he narrows his icy blue eyes. “Xander’s right— you are an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, he’s also right about you driving like you’re on tranquilizers.” Adam sighs, running a palm up his face, using his index finger and thumb to massage either of his temples, despite the fact that they lack a pulse. “I guess I could drive? I hate it, but Mitch hates it more, so I’m our best bet. Better than Road Runner over here.” 

“Yeah, just keep talking about me like I’m not present. That’s fine. I’m spitting venom in all your drinks tonight.” 

“Well,” Harry boasts abruptly, interrupting the game of verbal ping-pong happening in front of him, taking a quick peek at his phone for the time. As much as he loves causing some good-natured chaos between his friends, he has less than ten minutes to make it to Y/N’s apartment on time and traffic’s a bitch at this hour. “I have nothing to do with this anymore, so I’m just gonna take my leave. You lot have fun figuring this out.” 

He swivels around on his heel, striding away with his usual haughty air straightening his back, heading towards the corridor that leads to the front entrance of the apartment. The softly lit hallway swallows his silhouette and for the first time since he’d left the secluded confines of his bathroom, he allows a giddy smile of excitement to tweak his lips. Just for a second and not a moment longer. If his friends had seen it, they would’ve taken the piss.

Niall’s accent cuts through the air, prickling at his ears as the glossy, cold doorknob comes into contact with his even colder fingers. “I can’t believe you’d abandon us just to get laid!”

“Lock the door on your way out!” 

///

When a sharp knock echoes across Y/N’s flat, she nearly screams. 

Her nerves have been on edge since the last text she’d received; only after reading that final cheeky message had the reality of the situation hit. 

This isn’t her. This isn’t her at all.

Inviting a total stranger into her home and into her bed was something she’d never experienced before last week. One night stands were very few and very far for her— she could count all the ones she’d had on a single hand, and even then they had been with people she had known to some extent— and it was due to the fact that this type of situation is slathered in mystery and unsureness. Giving herself up in such an intimate manner to someone she wasn’t acquainted to in some shape or form…It comes with a certain amount of risk, both physically and emotionally, which is why she hardly ever engaged in such activities before Harry.

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with having that type of exhilarating fun in your life— she praises the women who can go around so confidently and express their sexuality however they please— but she herself had been raised under a roof that was moderate and conservative, and that environment had molded her into the person she had grown up to be. Those traditional concepts ran through the core of her being, and no matter how hard she tried to shake them, they refused to break loose. They weighed on her shoulders, constantly making her second-guess her motives and desires, most of which go against the status quo that had been implemented into her brain from a young age. This— whatever this is— is a huge step for her; it’s the first attempt she’s made to take over her own life and go against the grain she’d been accustomed to her whole existence. 

From the second Y/N had arrived here in Los Angeles and set a foot off the plane, she had been alone. Everyone who cared for her was miles and miles away and she was starting a new chapter on a completely blank page, with no one to guide her hand as she wrote. For the two months she’d spent settling in and trying to meld into her new environment, she had gone at it with a sense of emptiness hollowing the pit of her stomach. No one was there to comfort her during the rough patches, and no one cared enough yet to assure her that things would turn out alright. No one had bothered to tell her she was safe and that nothing would hurt her. No one made themselves available the way people did back home. 

That is, until she met Harry seven days ago. 

Their encounter had been purely for sexual gratification, but during that short time they shared, she vividly remembered him telling her that she could trust him. It was a preposterous statement to make— asking someone to trust you when you didn’t even know their last name— but the gaze in his emerald eyes had seemed so genuine and encouraging, and his voice had been so gentle and soothing, and his touch had been so delicate and consoling...That strange young man— with the pretty curls, intriguing tattoos, and dazzling smile— had somehow managed to untie the knot of unease that had been sitting in her belly for the last couple of weeks. She’s stumped on how he’d managed to wriggle it free; the only thing she can effectively say took a part in it was his eyes. There was just such a glass-like quality to them that reminded her of a mirror. It was like they were reflecting all her emotions back at her, using their familiarity to compel her into a state of mental peace. She’d appreciated it more than she’d let on. 

Something tells Y/N that this is the reason she had contacted him. She wanted to feel that safety net he had provided her with once again. She didn’t need an emotional connection from Harry, she just needed a bit of mental relief. She wanted something to take her mind off all her troubles. Something to distract her, even if it was only for a few hours. And with the way Harry had handled her last time, she knows he’s more than capable of helping her reach those goals. 

Y/N doesn’t think anyone has ever made her feel how Harry had that semi-drunken Friday night. She’d been with a few other people before, and had even been in a long-term relationship with someone she had once thought would end up being her husband, but none of those men came close to this peculiar stranger. 

In the town she was from, it was typical for people to marry their high school sweethearts. It was a small region where everyone either knew one another or knew of one another, so it wasn’t difficult to find someone that could fit into the role that needed to be filled. The person she had found was a boy by the name of Bradley, who she had begun to date their freshman year of high school. 

They’d met through mutual friends and he’d invited her to their first ever homecoming dance, where she had felt like everything was falling into place almost like in a movie. He was cute, with hazel eyes, sun-bleached hair, and freckles that jolted every time he laughed. He was polite, funny, and treated her with enough respect and dignity to keep her hooked for a while. Things had gone pretty well the four years they were together in high school; their relationship wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exciting either. It was just...secure. He was there, and he was willing to give her his attention, and that’s all that really mattered to her at the time. She thought that was all she needed. 

Then graduation came and went, and so did Bradley. He left for college, set on the intention that they would make long distance work somehow. To keep a long story short, it hadn’t worked out how they expected. As the months passed, she noticed he started to separate himself from her more and more. The video chats are what disappeared first; what used to be a daily FaceTime call turned into a weekly one and then, if she was lucky, a monthly one. Phone calls followed the same fate. Texting became a chore rather than something to look forward to and she could feel him slipping, which left her feeling helpless because he was in another state, far away and too out of reach to appropriately solve anything. Energized conversations slowly faltered into five-word messages, which eventually teetered into barely any communication at all. 

When Y/N heard the news that he’d cheated on her, it didn’t even come from him. It came from his roommate. Things ended swiftly after that, which was the saddest thing of all. Almost five years of her life, completely gone to waste. Handling the pain was a whole other misery she’d had to shoulder, alongside the embarrassment and humiliation, which stemmed from the fact that she was aware her peers had heard about the whole ordeal. With the help of her family and friends, she’d eventually gotten over the heartbreak. The weird thing is, she doesn’t think she loved him. She loved the idea of him— loved that he represented everything she had been raised to seek in a relationship. They’d grown up together, their families knew one another, they shared the same friends, they had common hobbies. It was like a match made in heaven, though after it broke off, she quickly came to the realization that it hadn’t been made in heaven at all. Made in a test tube was a more fitting analogy. 

Y/N’s love life after that painfully slow cliche disaster consisted of random boys around town she recognized from school and work. The hook-ups were fleeting and hardly satisfying, but at least they were something. She soon found out that she could do better on her own, but whenever she craved someone else’s touch, she was grateful to have anyone she could get. She’d mainly stuck to the same guys for the sake of consistency; it was easier having people she already knew how to please and vice versa, though she’ll admit it was mostly a one way street. Men can be so clueless sometimes that it’d be funny if it wasn’t so irritating. 

Then Y/N had skipped town and closed off sexually for a while. She had stayed shut down until Harry had walked into her life with that stupid sly smirk and his unorthodox— yet surprisingly attractive—fashion sense, sipping straight tequila like a fucking psycho from the cup in his jeweled fingers. He’d waltzed right onto the stool beside her at the bar, right out of the club with her hand in his, and then right past the doorframe of her apartment, kindly gifting her the best sex of her entire life. He’d worked her every desire with a certain skill and awareness she had never experienced (not from any of her past lovers, and definitely not from Bradley’s vanilla tendencies), dismantling her body as if he’d known her for decades, leaving her sore and aching in a way she didn’t know was humanly possible.

And now here Y/N is, pacing back and forth from her small living room to her even smaller kitchen, chewing along the knuckle of her forefinger as she tries to tie down the jitters running amuck in her belly. 

She repeatedly smooths down the dress she’s wearing, claiming that it’s to get rid of the wrinkles, but in truth, it’s to wipe the dampness from her palms. The outfit had been a birthday present from her cousin the year before and she’s rarely worn it since the move, which is a direct result of her lack of socializing. She only ever really leaves her home for groceries and to attend work, neither of which call for a pretty sundress and strappy tan sandals. Despite having gone out to the club a few times, the dress doesn’t fit that scene either. LA gets a bit chilly at night and she has yet to grow accustomed to the city’s weather. Wearing this after-hours would surely end with her acquiring a mild case of hypothermia. 

The garment is a light blue baby doll design, littered with tiny daffodil prints of varying shapes and colors. It stops about three-fourths down her thigh, fluttering outwards in layered flares, its bandeau-style top held in place by thin straps of the same fabric. She figured she’d deck herself out nicely; from the one interaction she’d had with Harry, she can tell he’s a person of refined taste. It was evident in his expensive clothing and his wide variety of precious rings. She doesn’t know why, but there’s a toiling in the pit of her tummy urging to impress him. 

Y/N’s hair has been freshly washed and blow-dried, her legs thoroughly shaved into silk, and she’d applied a light layer of makeup, done in anticipation that anything heavier would likely end up smeared across her face— a result of sweat and Harry’s dominant persona. Simply reflecting on his commanding sensual presence makes her self-pedicured toes curl in her sandals. 

Y/N hadn’t been sure on how to prepare for his arrival. She wasn’t versed in advanced hook-up culture— her raunchiest experience was in the backseat of someone's 2004 Toyota Corolla. She doesn’t want to get this wrong. Going overboard would make him feel smothered and awkward, but underselling would give him the impression that she doesn’t have any respect for him, save for what lies between his legs. Those are the last two things she wants him to gather from this. 

She’d settled for pulling out a bottle of red wine that had been a house-warming present from the landlord. Not too shabby, but not too loud. And who doesn’t enjoy a cup of half-decent wine on a Friday evening, right?

Y/N had just finished arranging two glasses— which she’d found at the thrift shop down the street for a steal— onto the counter of her kitchen when that swift rapping sound had broken through the tense air of her home, echoing from the front door and causing a yelp to lodge in her throat. 

Ice shoots through her veins. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She takes a handful of penetrating breaths, concentrating on how the cool air feels expanding her lungs. The technique aids in calming some of her nerves, grounding her just enough that she can will herself to move without her knees giving out. Y/N tentatively makes her way down the corridor that leads to her front door, heart hammering against her ribs. She shouldn’t be this riled up— he’s literally already been inside her. There’s pretty much nothing she can hide from him at this point. 

On the other side of the door, Harry is blissfully ignorant to the panic attack threatening to overcome Y/N. 

The vampire leans his shoulder against the frame of the somewhat raggedy door, arms crossed over his thick chest as his gaze bounces judgmentally around all the patches of peeling paint. He chews at a piece of gum— which he’d popped into his mouth on the drive over to make sure he tastes as delectable as always— in slow, lazy motions, jaw flexing as he unconsciously pops an array of tiny bubbles with his teeth, waiting for Y/N to emerge. 

Harry glances up at the flickering light bulb in the hallway of the complex, nose scrunching in distaste at the annoying flashing. She really needs to get a better place, he thinks, reaching up and dragging the pad of his middle finger along the curve of his bottom lip, absentmindedly wiping off a bit of extra chapstick that had colored outside the lines when he’d applied it. He always tries to keep his mouth soft, especially when he knows he’s going to be using it. Plus, the vanilla bean flavor pairs well with mint. 

The sound of a seal cracking open yanks his attention, the door before him slowly swinging inwards. Cool air pours from inside, bathing him in a scent that his frenzied instincts had been subconsciously craving the last couple of days. Harry cranes his neck over his shoulder, spitting his gum out and not bothering to watch where it lands. He turns back just as Y/N’s familiar figure comes into view.

The first thing he notices is the dress. 

Fuck, the dress. 

It’s nothing too fancy, just a casual sundress, but it fits her like it was made specifically for the purpose of testing his restraint. He rakes his gaze up and down her body shamelessly, much like he had on the night they met. 

The light blue background and rainbow miniature floral print compliments her skin tone nicely, making it stand out below the dingy light hanging above their heads. The piece lands about halfway down her thigh, fanning around her legs slightly in frilly folds, tempting him with that bit of innocent exposure. An image of him ripping the dress up her thighs races across the forefront of his mind and he can feel his fangs momentarily break through his gums.  

As Harry draws his sight upwards, the minimal throbbing between his legs only amplifies. The dress cinches just below her bust, accentuating her chest, and he comes to the painful realization that she’s not wearing a bra underneath; she doesn’t need it due to the bralette-like top. One simple tug of his index finger would leave her completely bare and that conclusion causes a sweltering itch to erupt along the back of his throat.

Harry’s irises finally come to rest on her face, finding that the rest of the human girl’s look appears just as it had last week. Minimal makeup, no accessories, and the smell of chamomile shampoo strung through her hair, though it’s easily smothered by her natural scent of flowers and sugar. He also finds that while he had been blatantly undressing her with his eyes, she had delighted herself in doing the same. Watching her gawk at him hungrily caresses his ego immensely, evident in how the edges of his mouth kink. 

Y/N doesn’t mean to ogle, she really doesn’t. But from the instant he’d come into view, standing there propped against her threshold with his ankles crossed and his lean arms folded over his strong chest, she couldn’t control it. He just looks so fucking good— better than last time, which she didn’t think was plausible— and she gets the feeling that he knows he looks borderline godly. 

Harry’s clad in what appears to be a sheer mesh flouncy button-up with holographic threads speckled through the material, shimmering under the dim atmosphere of the hallway. The last three holes of the shirt are left open, exposing his tanned pectorals and thoroughly inked chest. Last time they had been together, she’d been too distracted by the aching between her thighs to properly notice the swallow tattoos along his collarbones and the giant butterfly at the crest of his stomach. But now, she stares at them freely as they expand and contract with his easy breaths, her mouth beginning to water. 

The blouse is covered by a dark pinstriped blazer, the crisp shoulder blades of the jacket complimenting his broad frame as the curves dip along his waist alluringly. The loose top is tucked in along the brim of yet another pair of high-waisted trousers, though they are creme-colored instead of copper. The ironed pants give way to a pair of glossy black heeled boots, which are bedazzled along the back of the two-inch elevation, the jewels twinkling in the shape of a word that she can’t make out at this angle. 

Harry’s collection of luxurious rings and necklaces adorn their usual spots and she gets the impression that he never leaves home without them. His gold cross earring sways back and forth lightly, her warped reflection cast across its surface and staring back at her numbly. 

Harry breaks through the haze his physique had cast on her brain.

“Nice to see you again, Disco Ball.” 

A shiver slithers down her spine at the deep baritone of his voice, English accent slathered across every syllable and dripping with suggestive teasing. She’d forgotten how sultry he sounds, even when he’s not actively striving for it. 

Y/N’s attention jets up from where it had been pasted to his body, the expression across his handsome features one of snarky self-assurance, which tells her she’d been caught. Indents cave into his cheeks, twitching with glee as he bats his lashes slowly, eyes going half-lidded in amusement. He looks so sinful with those shiny ringlets curling around his small ears, framing his sharp jaw and kissing the nape of his neck, alongside those raspberry red lips and the emerald hue sparkling around his pupils. She can’t tear herself away.

After an elongated second of silence on her part, Harry raises one of his sculpted brows expectantly, letting her know he’s waiting for a response. Heat overflows Y/N’s cheeks and buzzes across the shells of her ears.

“H-Hi. Uh— Nice to see you. Too. Nice to see you, too.”

An odd sense of déjà vu flags in the back of her skull and she’s reminded that this is exactly how they’d met the first time around— with her making an utter fool of herself, much to his entertainment.

The crescent above his top lip curves upwards as a result of his grin widening. He taps the tip of his elegant shoe patiently against the cement ground, arms shifting against his chest and she can see the way his biceps strain the fabric of his coat. He’s just so fit.  

Harry’s tone comes out playful and lighthearted. He doesn’t need to be invited in again since she’s already explicitly allowed him in before, but he asks anyways, out of courtesy. “Can I come in? Or are you planning on taking me dancing or summat?”

The laugh that escapes Y/N is dense with a nervous edge, but it’s better than a stuttering jumble of incoherent words. She moves out of the way, flushing her back to the wall of the tiny entrance corridor and leaving just enough room for him to squeeze by. “Yes, come on in! Sorry.” 

“You’re alright, darling.” The tall vampire steps forward into the mortal’s home, turning sideways as he does so, chest pressing against her own. He glances down at her lips for a flash of a moment, then back to her eyes. “Thank you.”

Y/N’s grip on her doorknob tightens. She looks up at him through her lashes, bottom lip barely trembling. “No problem. Thanks for coming over on such short notice.” 

Harry runs his tongue across his teeth, pressing it to the inside of cheek as he absorbs the mildly erotic image of Y/N decked out in a frilly dress, glancing up at him shyly as her chest heaves slightly against his own. “Well, I couldn’t leave you to handle that pesky wood paneling all on your own, now could I?”

A smile ghosts over her delicate lips as she shuts the door and locks it, not breaking eye contact. “How generous of you. My hero.” 

Far from it, love.

Y/N slips out from where Harry had wedged her to the wall, beckoning him after her with a gentle turn of her head. The creature tucks his hands into his front pockets, following her down the narrow stretch. They drift past her room (he makes sure not to look in and spare himself the horror of seeing that dumb tapestry) and past her bathroom, into the expanse of her living area. It’s just as small and cozy as he remembers it and he can’t stop himself from scoffing lightly as his sight drifts over the couch. Good memories. 

“Would you like some wine?” Y/N’s question carries softly from inside her kitchen. She’s already gripping the glass bottle in her hand, attempting to pull out the cork, and she hadn’t thought of needing a wine-opener until now. Fuck. 

Harry makes his way to join her, passing underneath the archway and taking the spot across from the girl. He leans his lower back on the counter, hands remaining perched casually in his slacks. “I’d love some.”

“Great.” She huffs, twisting stubbornly at the spongy cap with all the might she can muster, the rough surface scratching her palm. “Let me just— just get this open.”

Harry’s head lists sideways as he wards off a chuckle. “Want some help?” 

Y/N releases an irritated grunt, shoulders slumping a tad as she fails to get the top loose. She holds out the bottle towards her visitor, titling it from side to side in surrender. “Be my guest.” 

The immortal pulls his hands out from his pockets, taking the container from her grasp and the human notices how they dwarf the bottle. It shouldn’t be hot, but it is. 

Harry wraps his ring-clad digits around the cork, giving it one easy twist and Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off as she hears a pop tinge the air. Harry offers her the wine and cap in return, licking his lips to avoid laughing in her face. Supernatural strength always delivers. 

“How…?” Y/N’s owlish eyes flicker back and forth between Harry’s cocky expression and the object in his hands. “How did you even...?”

The brunette gives her a nonchalant shrug. “Guess you loosened it up for me, Thor.” 

She gingerly takes the beverage and its accompaniment from his outstretched palms, blinking at him in mild shock. Her slight unease is swiftly phased out, however; a result of his cute banter. It was probably just a lucky coincidence. “I guess so.”

Y/N pours out two glasses of the dark red liquid, handing one to Harry, feeling her heart skip a beat when he wraps his hold around the stout flute and their fingers brush. He stays like that for a heartbeat, with his icy digits sifted between hers, the amber specks in his irises glittering like diamonds. Then, the moment is over and he pulls away slowly, guiding his drink up to his plush lips. She hates how he can leave her so breathless without a single hitch. 

The girl watches as Harry takes a leisurely sip of the alcohol, his gaze dancing around her kitchen curiously as she finishes recapping the bottle and scooting it into the corner of the counter. 

A thought dawns on her as soon as she focuses back onto the boy before her. Harry looks weird. He looks so weird standing in her small, dingy kitchen with its worn wooden cabinets and fake marble tabletop. He looks so out of place, dressed head to toe in designer brands and fancy fabrics, hands and neck decorated with posh jewelry, and the unmistakable smell of an expensive cologne wafting from his masculine throat. And he most certainly is out of place when it comes to who he’s associating with. He’s out of Y/N’s league, not only physically, but in his behaviors, as well. It’s so obvious it almost hurts. 

Yet here Harry is, looking polished and stylish, while she’s sporting a mere sundress that was probably bought off the clearance rack at Kohl’s. It just doesn’t mix, and she finds herself wondering why he’d chosen her in the first place. When she had voiced similar concerns the day they’d slept together, he had told her it was because she was timid and he wanted to see if he could break through that. But Y/N isn’t stupid. There has to be some other reason. Why else would a rich bachelor pay attention to a small-town runaway in a measly floral—

“I like your dress.”

Y/N glances up at Harry from where her mind had fallen, startled by the sudden interference in her dark thoughts. She’d been tracing across the slope of his structured jaw, mesmerized by how it would grow taut every time he swallowed down a gulp of his beverage. 

She had ambled so deep in her head, she barely manages to mutter a passable answer. “Oh, thank you! I’ve had it for a bit, but I barely wear it.”

The edges of the vampire’s mouth quirk around the rim of his glass, creases wrinkling along the corners of his bright eyes. “It suits you nicely. A beautiful dress on a beautiful girl.” 

Y/N’s belly somersaults, a sheepish giggle running along the undercurrent of her next mumble, so low it’s hardly audible. “Thank you. Again. Thought I’d bring it out for a special occasion.” 

Harry’s eyebrows jump upwards at her comment. He draws his wine glass from between his lips, resting it against his hard stomach and gifting the human a cheeky once-over. “So I’m a special occasion, now, am I?”

Y/N looks down at the straps of her sandals, fighting off a grin. She shrugs one shoulder offhandedly, bringing her cup to her mouth and taking a long drag of the sweet liquor, feeling it wash across her tongue and leave a warm glow in her tummy. “Maybe.” 

Harry hums teasingly in his throat, tapping his pinky pensively along the bottom of his glass, opal ring clinking against the crystalline surface. The color of his drink makes the black polish on his nails stand out almost artistically. “I’ll take any compliment I can get, especially from those pretty lips.”

Another wave of heat flushes across the apples of Y/N’s cheeks. “You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?”

The monster tips back another swig of wine, savoring the notes of wild cherry and pomegranate in its palate. Not bad, especially for what he can tell is a ten dollar bottle. 

He cocks his head to the side, irises glitzing knowingly amidst his long lashes. “I think we’re both aware that I most certainly know how to flatter a girl.” 

Y/N’s stare snaps up to lock with his, the faintest whimper stringing her vocal chords. If it wasn’t for Harry’s heightened hearing, he would have never known it’d happened. But he does, and he can feel the throb between his thighs spike as a result. The sounds she makes are just as wonderful as he remembers.

The sexual tension suspending in the room is practically palpable. After a bundle of her heartbeats— which is gradually rising in intensity— echo in his ears, he decides to speak up again. 

“I’ve been thinking about you.” 

The statement can be taken into so many different contexts and that’s why Harry chose it. She could interpret it as innocent admiration on behalf of a smitten lover, or as another layer of sensual praise. It’s versatile, successful either way. 

Y/N blinks at him exactly three times in surprise. “You have?”

She’d been thinking about him, too. Non-stop. And now that she knows it’s mutual, she doesn’t feel so nervous anymore. It reassures her that they’re on the same page of this messy novel written about their undefined association. Or that they are at least within the same chapter.  

Harry bobs his head in confirmation, indulging another sip of wine, letting it filter through his taste buds slowly. His glass is almost empty. “Mmhm. Walked past this candle store at the mall the other day and they had one burning that smelled just like you.”

His confession is sweet and it makes the tips of her fingers tingle. Y/N copies his action, taking another gulp of her beverage, attitude airy and inquisitive. “Is that so? And what do I smell like?”

Harry’s response is immediate and confident, almost as if he’s spent time thinking on the subject prior to today. “Honey and lavender.” 

Y/N nods her head in wonder, laughing gently. “That’s oddly specific.” 

Harry feels like he’s been smacked between the eyes with an iron rod. That was an idiot move. Absolutely moronic. 

He just now comes to terms with how intimate the comment he’d made had been. It suggests that he’s pondered on this topic, which gives the impression that he could be more interested in her than he actually is. He doesn’t need this loose connection turning into some type of cliche romantic comedy; he doesn’t have the space, patience, or emotional stability for it. And certainly not with someone he’s only fucked once. 

The vampire clears his throat, figuring that he can clean up this metaphorical spill by throwing a bit of crudeness at it. “Then yesterday I had a donut, yeah? One of those cream-filled ones. And when I took a bite of it, all the cream just came oozing out and I was like, ‘hm, this reminds me of someone…’”

The slightly endeared expression on Y/N’s face crumbles to dust, voice shrill and indignant at his lewd analogy. “You fucking perv!” 

Harry sputters into a round of boyish cackling, nearly wheezing when her foot reaches over and strikes him on the shin. He clasps over his stomach with his free hand, head falling back in glee as her features pinch in embarrassed disgust. He manages to speak between bursts of giggles, water gathering along his tear ducts due to how hard he’s laughing. “I’m just being honest!”  

“No, you’re being a gross little fourteen year old asshole!” Y/N exclaims incredulously, but she can’t keep herself from joining in on his boasts of amusement. 

His laughter is contagious. It’s loud and unapologetic in a manner she rarely sees in anyone and he just looks really fucking cute with his dimples jolting and smile lines creasing. It’s hard to stay mad at him, though it’s not like she’d truly been upset in the first place. 

Harry reigns himself in, inhaling deep breaths and wiping at his tears with the back of his large hand as a joyful groan rumbles in his chest. A few more giggles sneak out when he sees Y/N’s flat expression, but he manages to stifle the rest. His tone is jesting, poking fun. “If it makes you feel any better, I was respectful enough to wipe the donut down with a napkin, as well.” 

“Fuck off.”

Harry grins down snidely at the last inch or so of alcohol left in his glass, bringing it to his mouth and downing it all in one go. He places the cup down carefully on the counter behind him, his arms finding their way across his stomach, fingertips momentarily tapping at his elbows. He appraises a playfully grouchy Y/N, pursing his lips to hide a smirk. 

He watches as she takes another small taste from her drink, her pulse lulled by its contents. She’s not drunk by any means— not even buzzed— but it had helped calm the tittering in her throat that Harry had been able to detect earlier. She’s relaxed now, all anxiousness washed away by the small serving of liquor and his inappropriate (and extremely funny, if he does say so himself) jokes. 

The creature thinks it’s proper time he gets what he came for. 

“I really am glad you reached out, though.” Harry starts, an easygoing smile nudging across his alcohol-swollen mouth. “Truly.” 

Y/N snorts sarcastically, attempting to hide how his comment had made her pulse sharpen. He’d heard it anyways. “Oh, are you? Truly?”

Harry pushes himself off the edge of the counter, slowly sauntering over to Y/N, who instinctively draws back further against the tabletop behind her. She ogles at him from below heavy lashes, glass still perched between her tinted lips, excited anticipation written all over her body language. He can practically feel the heat radiating off her, rising a few notches the closer he gets. 

“Yeah.” Harry’s arms unfold, one stretching over her shoulder to prop his palm against the cupboard behind her head, the other fiddling with the seam of his blazer. He slides his forefinger and thumb along the single buttoned hole, giving it a rough tug and allowing his jacket to spring open. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun interior designing with anyone. Not for a while.” 

Y/N glimpses down at where his coat had parted, drinking up the sight of his lean torso behind the see-through material of his shirt. Now that he’s nearly pressed against her, his scent is stronger than before, burying her under smoky notes of vanilla and seasoned firewood. A familiar heat pools between her clasped thighs. 

When she pipes up, it’s shaky and whispered, covered in a dreamy undercurrent. “Yeah, me either. It felt...nice.”

Harry’s irises flash crimson for a millisecond, but she’s too occupied gawking at his tight stomach to notice. His dialect takes on a low, seductive twang, the breath of his words fanning across her face. All she can smell is wine, mint, and...vanilla chapstick? 

“It felt really nice.” 

Y/N’s view drags up to land on his lips. They look as soft and appetizing as last time, tempting her to just drop her flute onto the floor and replace it with his mouth. “Extremely nice.” 

An outside force suddenly tips her glass upwards and she realizes it’s Harry’s fingers. He nudges her cup until the liquid inside funnels towards her mouth, his intentions set on helping her finish it off. She drains the wine obediently, staring up at him dazed and moony, feeling a few drops escape along the sides of her mouth and tickle down her chin. The jade-eyed boy then gently pries the glass from her fingertips, reaching over and placing it inside her sink to be handled later. 

Y/N’s hands fall flat against his thick chest, feeling it rise and fall steadily below her grasp as he takes a step forward, their bodies completely flushing together. His palm trails up the exposed sliver of her thigh, diving a couple of inches below her dress and giving the outer area a hard squeeze. He doesn’t go any further; he won’t until she explicitly asks for it. He’s a prick about a lot of things, but never consent.

Harry leans down, running the tip of his cold nose along her clenched jaw, his warm tongue peeking out to collect the streams of wine that had dripped out. The contrast in sensations makes her knees buckle and what he murmurs hotly against her skin doesn’t help in calming those motions at all.

“Wouldn’t mind making you feel that nice again.” 

Y/N’s mind stalls, overwhelmed by his touch and smell. She can feel him sponging tender kisses at the corner of her mouth, and she can feel the palm of his hand massaging at her thigh needily. She can feel his breaths quickening in pace the longer he’s around her, and she can feel the foundation of a moan building in his lungs in the form of small vibrations, which run across her palms and twitch her fingers. She can feel everything; she’s never been more hyper-aware of her surroundings than now. And all because of this one mysterious young man. 

When Y/N finally speaks, Harry feels relief flood his system, though it is swiftly replaced by intense desire. 

“I wouldn’t mind it, either.” 

That’s full permission if he’s ever heard it. 

Harry’s other hand drops from its spot against the cupboard behind her, joining its partner on her opposite thigh. He coasts his palms fully below her flowy dress onto her hips, a lascivious simper crawling across his cheeks at the lack of extra fabric beneath her clothes. “No panties tonight?”

The human swallows heavily, shaking her head as she leans it back against the wooden cabinets, giving him access to her throat. At the sight, the vampire’s fangs protrude, cutting into the inside of his lower lip as venom fills his mouth. He wills himself to maintain control. It’s difficult, considering his sharp eyes can make out the chiseling of her arteries pumping blood just beneath her delicate skin, but he forces composure into his behavior nonetheless. With all of the lights on and Y/N completely sober, he knows he won’t get away with another mid-fuck stunt like the one he pulled last time they were in this position. 

Instead, he distracts himself with what he can draw from her at this very moment— another unbelievable orgasm. 

“Such a filthy little fucking thing.” Harry growls, smearing his lips down the center of her jugular, nipping love bites into her flesh but making sure not to split it open. “S’that how bad you wanted it when you texted me? So bad that you didn’t even bother to wear anything underneath?”

Y/N whines softly when he passes over a particularly tender spot along her neck, shuttering against his chest. “Y-Yes.” 

A low chuckle rolls from Harry’s wandering tongue as he hones in on the area that had coaxed such a delicious reaction. “Fuck, that was such a pretty noise. Are you sensitive here, baby?”

Y/N nods with fervor, running her touch up his pectorals and over his strong shoulders, diving under his coat and fisting at the mesh that strains across his muscular back. Her eyes roll closed, her next confession coming out in the form of a feathery sigh, legs parting wider for him to comfortably fit in between. “I just...I just need you.”

Harry eagerly accepts the invitation, sifting between her thighs and hiking them up onto his hips. The fact that he can suspend her so effortlessly, almost as if she weighs nothing, makes the pit of her tummy boil. “You need me now, d’you? How much, doll? Want you to tell me how much you missed my cock.” 

The young woman winces ever so slightly at the crude word and it amuses him to no end. “So fucking much, Harry.” 

He can confidently say his name has never sounded sweeter than when it trickles from Y/N’s tongue. 

When he speaks, it’s packed with all the pent up turmoil radiating deep in his abdomen. “Did you think about me the way I thought about you?”

Y/N’s reply falls breathily from her mouth without any hesitation. “Y-Yeah. Couldn’t get you out of my head.”

A cocky hum tinges the air on his behalf. “And why’s that?”

“Because…” The girl struggles to swallow, finding it difficult to match how easily brazen he can be. She pushes through. “Because you fucked me better than anyone else ever has.” 

The compliment is one Harry gets often, but for some inexplicable reason, it hits so much deeper coming from Y/N. “Mm. Poor baby just needed to get properly rawed, didn’t you?”

“Had no idea how badly I wanted it until you came along.” 

A dark chuckle rolls from the creature’s lips at her bluntness. He repeatedly passes his textured tongue over the pressure point on her throat, flames igniting in his chest when she releases another watery, desperate mewl. “God, look at you. Practically already dripping. Like it when I play with you like that?”

“Fuck, y-yes.”

“Want me to keep going?”

“Please.”

And so Harry keeps going, and he doesn’t stop. Not at her neck, and not anywhere else. Not until she begs him to hours later, when he’s whittled three orgasms out of her trembling body, each one more intense than the last. 

The first one takes place right there on top of the kitchen counter. He boosts her up onto the table, bunching her pretty sundress around her quivering thighs— as he’d fantasized prior— while she fumbles with his trousers. He tends to her every breathy whimper as she eases him out of his briefs, marking his teeth all over her throat with the assurance that his blood will fade the bruises by morning. He tears his jacket down his broad shoulders, panting into her mouth as she undoes all the buttons that line his elegant iridescent shirt, moaning softly when she breaks their kiss to paint her hot lips down the expanse of his heaving chest and tight stomach. Y/N ducks down as far as her angle will allow, wanting to taste as much of his skin as she can. She wants to memorize its salty smoothness for as long as she lives. 

Harry watches her with bliss-drunken fondness twitching his mouth, head falling back to hang between his shoulders as a low, “Such a good girl.” rumbles from his throat. His ring-clad fingers tangle into her locks and scratch at her scalp lightly, strained exhales encouraging her to keep going as she delights herself with tainting love bites all over him. He yanks the girl back up by her roots, grabbing her hips and roughly scooting her forward towards him, clammy foreheads pressing together as he fixes to fill her up for the first time in what feels like eternity. 

The monster’s voice is as dominant and thick as she likes it. “Eyes up here. Want to see you come undone while I fuck you.” 

The way he spreads Y/N open makes her choke out a scream like nothing else she’s ever heard. Harry simply clamps one of his palms over her mouth, continuing to ram into her at a harsh stride, gasping against her ear with every thrust as she rakes her nails across his back. “Gotta keep that pretty mouth quiet. Thin walls.” 

The human feels like her heart is going to break through her ribs and what she doesn’t know is that with every passing beat, Harry feels it tenfold. And it’s driving him fucking insane— she drives him fucking insane. Especially when she looks at him with that glossy, begging gaze, biting into the mound of his hand as he slams his hips inside her so hard, the glasses in her cupboard shake. “Like it when I give it to you rough? Yeah, I thought so. Just like that? Harder? Say please…Christ, you’re a fucking angel.”

Y/N is dirty. So fucking filthy, and Harry loves every second of it. Loves that anything he throws out, she returns with as much enthusiasm, if not more. Loves that she can take his cock as hard as he’s willing to give it, which says a lot, considering his stamina and strength usually surpasses most humans. He’d met very few mortals who can match his sexual prowess and she happens to be one of them. She not only takes it, but pleads for more. She doesn’t just seek her own pleasure, but insists on delivering his own. And though they’re polars opposites at their core— she’s timid, physically standard, and boringly normal, whereas he’s confident, attractive, and unusually superior in every sense of the phrase— they fit together better than he’d ever care to admit. They’re perfectly compatible, down to their personalities and their intimate needs. 

As Harry stands there— fingertips leaving welts across her waist as he grunts brokenly against her throat, stretching her out like she was meant to take him this deep, her moans sounding like classical melodies to his ears— he thinks that maybe...maybe he’ll keep her around. A friends with benefits situation would be the most ideal. And to quote his own clever motto from before, it would be mutualism at its finest. 

The alliance would be nothing emotional; simply for the sake of providing each other with requited relief, as well as providing Harry with a convenient feeding arrangement. Neither of them would have to submit themselves to going to those terrible clubs, they both already know what the other enjoys, and the banter they share is pretty fulfilling. Plus, her blood is one of the sweetest he’s ever had. Whatever magic lies in her veins tides over his cravings in a fashion he’s never quite experienced. They both get what they want and don’t have to deal with the disasters of real commitment; neither are in a place in their lives where they can shoulder such a big responsibility. Harry is emotionally unavailable, as he has been for the past two centuries and as he intends to be for the next dozen. Y/N has just started anew in a place where she has so little to give and so much to lose, dating is the last thing on her mind. A casual no-strings-attached arrangement would be a perfect gift, bow and all.

And with the way they make each other cum multiple times that night— once on the counter, and twice on that trusty old couch— there’s not a single doubt in Harry’s mind that this is most definitely mutualism at its peak. 

///

During the span of the next few weeks, Harry learns a lot about Y/N. It’s surprising how informational someone’s sex habits can be. 

The second week after they had met— and the first since their second very heated, very satisfying encounter— she shoots him a text on Wednesday, of all days. 

Harry isn’t doing anything particularly interesting when he receives her message. He had gone to see Mitch play at the bar that had recently booked him as a semi-permanent gig, sitting in the booth furthest in the back from all of the ruckus, fingers tapping along the waxed table to his best friend’s skilled jazzy guitar chords. Mitch always teases Harry about how he doesn’t have a job, which the vampire always waves off. Working for money is stupid and unnecessary; any materialistic wants and needs that plague him, he can get with the help of compulsion. Therefore, what’s the use in condemning himself the horrors of customer service or a constricting office cubicle? 

His best friend is halfway through his set when Harry’s device vibrates against the sticky surface before him, tittering fingers coming to an abrupt stop. He flips over his iPhone, eyes flickering over the screen, a coy grin spreading its way across his blushed lips. Y/N’s contact beams up at him in return. He’d set her profile as just her name alongside three disco ball emojis, for the sake of their little inside joke. 

I’m getting off work a bit earlier than I thought today and was wondering if you wanted to help me with my ceiling fan.

Harry bites into his bottom lip to muffle a chuckle, shaking his head lightly as he stares down at the comical request. 

That’s odd. Last time I was there, you didn’t HAVE a ceiling fan.

Y/N sits on her lunch break in the backroom of the cafe where she’s employed, a veggie wrap halfway suspended towards her mouth when Harry’s text bloops in, pointing out her embarrassing mistake. She blinks at his correction blankly, eyes closing in faint humiliation as her true intentions are now painfully clear. 

After a second of recollection, she types back some damage control, though it hardly has an impact. Harry’s already chortling to himself just thinking about how contorted her face must look at the moment.

I’m aware, thank you. I meant I wanted help picking one out. I’ve got a few tabs saved as potentials. 

He decides to be a little shit about this whole thing, continuing to mock her.

You could just send me the links right now and I can tell you which one I like. You know that, right?

Y/N knows that. She also knows, by the tone and texture of his response, he’d only mentioned that alternative to be annoying. He knows she’s not talking about ceiling fans, and he just wants her to chase after him. Unfortunately enough for Y/N’s pride, she’s more than willing to.  

I just think your opinion would be much more valuable and effective in person, since you’d be able to help me search for other ones at the same time. We’d cover more ground. Two heads are better than one!

We do make quite the team, don’t we?

I personally think so. A dynamic duo for the books, honestly.

A soft round of applause cuts through the air around the vampire, signaling the end of Mitch’s performance. Harry glances up to see his best friend mounting his guitar back into its case, smiling bashfully at the crowd and nodding his head in thanks to all their praise. Harry coins his luck; things couldn’t have wrapped up at a better time. 

Alright, Watson. What time will you be home?

Y/N stops mid-chew through a bite of her meal, cheeks puffed as the corners of her mouth twitch at his nerdy reference.

I’m off at 6:45. Should be home by 7. 

I’ll see you there, then. 

See you there. Also, why do YOU get to be Sherlock? Seems a bit sexist. 

Harry rolls his eyes at her quip, smirking to himself as he types out his final response.

Well, first and foremost, I’m literally English. Secondly, last time I checked, I’m always the one in control. And frankly, you seem to like it that way. See you at seven, darling.

And at seven on the dot, Harry’s outside her apartment. His friends would be amazed at his punctuality. He only shows it when it’s worth the trouble.

The creature walks up the steps to the mortal’s complex with his Ray-Ban sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, keychain tucked into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans, and his tan Chelsea boots clicking against the cement ground. A light wind whips his Keith Harrington Safe Sex t-shirt against the broad muscles of his back, drawing a soothed sigh from his lungs. He loves the California weather. 

He gives her door three swift knocks with his ring-clad knuckles, stepping back from the entrance and clasping his large hands behind his back as he waits. 

When Y/N answers, Harry tilts his chin down a smidge, looking at her over the brim of his chic black glasses with his signature dazzling smile dimpling his cheeks. He lists his head slightly in a formal greeting. “Detective.” 

The girl’s irises flit up to the ceiling as amusement twitches her lips. She plays along. “Nice to see you again. Detective.”

She moves off to the side, beckoning him to come in and he gladly takes the offer, striding into the flat and down the narrow corridor he’s grown quite familiar with. Y/N follows him back into her living room, gaze quickly drinking up his appearance. He’s casual today— less jewelry, more comfortable clothes— and he works the normal fit as effortlessly as he works his fancy brands. Especially with those tight dark jeans. They hug his thighs in a fashion that should be illegal. 

Harry twists around on his heel to face her, reaching up to remove his sunglasses and tucking them along the collar of his tee. A handful of curls fall across his forehead, framing his face and sculpting his jaw, as usual. A sweep across Y/N’s physique tells him everything he needs to know. 

She’s still in her work clothes, clad in a navy blue polo shirt and a pair of dark skinnies similar to his. Her hair is down, though the strands have a dent that suggests she’d been wearing a ponytail. Her mascara is smudged a tad under her seemingly tired eyes, but her attitude is as bright and lively as always. She appears messy, but he likes it. It’s a type of unconventional beauty that’s natural and genuine, which he can appreciate.

He contemplates her with a certain slyness that makes her shift in her socked feet. 

“I got a message earlier. Sounded kinda frantic.” He drifts closer to the human, a sultry tension growing taut between them. He glances upward for an instant, as if recalling a thought. “Something about ceiling fans…?”  

Y/N chews into her cheek to keep from giggling, allowing him to press his chest to hers. He slowly begins to back her up towards the shabby couch, which has seen this interaction happen one too many times. “Yeah, I’m thinking of getting one. Figured it’d help. It just gets really hot in here sometimes, y’know?”

“Mmm…” Harry thrums in agreement, deep in the back of his throat. His hands crawl onto her hips and grasps them somewhat roughly, index fingers hooking into the belt loops of her jeans as he leans down to brush his soft lips over her own. She’ll never grow tired of the electricity that passes through them every time their mouths touch. It kindles her needs unlike anything else. “It does get pretty hot in here sometimes. Especially if you’re working up a sweat.” 

He pushes her further towards the sofa, movements gradual as she drifts backwards, careful not to trip her. She glimpses down at where their lips are flirting, breath hiccuping when he licks his lightly in anticipation, his tongue just barely grazing her Cupid’s bow. “Absolutely. A fan would definitely help relieve some of that stress.” 

“Yeah.” Harry nudges the tip of her nose with his own, feeling her grab at his biceps for security as he continues inching her backwards blindly. “It can work wonders for when you’re all pent up, too. Especially when you’re really tight, which I know for a fact you are.”

The backs of the girl’s knees hit the edge of the couch and she topples into its cushions. She sits up onto her elbows, sheer need inking into her irises as he patiently begins to undo his belt. His long, nimble fingers work with ease and he seems to be in no particular rush, which pricks at her nerves because she feels completely the opposite. She’d been thinking about him since Friday night— or rather, Saturday morning, when he had actually stayed for breakfast that time around. 

Y/N had sat on top of her small dining table while he took the seat before her shirtless, leaning forward with his arms crossed nonchalantly over her lap as she fed him bites of lemon blueberry pancakes. The pads of his calloused fingers had drawn random shapes across the warm skin of her thighs, attempting to cheekily slip beneath her pajamas shorts and he’d giggle boyishly around mouthfuls of food every time she would swat his hand away. He looked so fucking pretty that morning, with his curls tangled in tuffs and the vague imprint of her teeth scattered across his grinning mouth, angry red scratches decorating his bare shoulders. That wholesome yet dirty image had left her head spinning for days. 

The sound of Harry’s zipper ripping open blinks Y/N back into the present and she nearly gawks as he grabs onto the hem of his graphic t-shirt and yanks it over his head, arms crossing as he does so. He tosses it onto her playfully, laughing as she smacks it away from her face and gives him a deadpan look. Harry leans forward, propping his palms on either sides of her head and bracketing her in, the unmissable scent of his delicious cologne invading her senses as his dark tattoos ripple over the lean tendons of his stomach and arms. His strangely cold forehead flushes against hers and he nips at her top lip, tugging it between his teeth and releasing. His voice comes out as deep and hypnotizing as ever. 

“Get undressed for me. Want your thighs wrapped around my head.” 

Harry comes to find that for such a reserved girl, Y/N has a pretty intriguing sexual mindset. She’s open to a lot of stuff he’d never expect from a rural-town escapee. Her kinks surprise him, but pleasantly so, considering they cross over with a lot of his own. She’s into choking, which he adores. There’s nothing hotter than feeling her pulse slam against the palm of his hand as his array of rings mark into the delicate skin of her throat. She likes being restrained, which translates into Harry pinning her wrists above her head while he slams between her drenched thighs. It’s difficult to achieve that on the sofa, so they end up rolling across the rug on the floor, her legs tangled around his hips like a vine as he pants into her mouth, damp hair flopping over his forehead and tickling her eyelashes. Ideally, he would have used his belt to tie her hands to a headboard. If they were at his place, he would’ve just reached for the metal cuffs he has hanging casually off the railing of his bed, which he keeps there for easy access. But they’re in her living room, so he makes do with what he can. 

The vampire doesn’t stay over that night, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he promised Niall he’d help him out with a car issue. Apparently the motor is making a weird noise and Harry isn’t shocked one bit. Niall barely has the brain cells to be alive, much less to handle the upkeep that comes with owning a vintage vehicle. He thanks Y/N for a good time as he slips into his tight jeans and recovers his sunglasses from the floor, pulling his tee over the already fading hickies littering his collarbones, fitting his accessory into his sweaty curls. 

Harry leans down to where she lays limply, splayed over the couch where he had placed her after picking her up off the ground (only after he’d made her cum twice). He plants a nonchalant farewell kiss to her parted lips, thumbing over her bruised nipples jestingly and grinning into her mouth when she whimpers. “I’ll see you later, Watson. Let me know which fan you decide to buy.” 

Two days later, Harry’s phone chimes again, this time with the unique ringtone he’d assigned just for her. 

He’s relaxing in his bathtub, submerged up to his chest in hot water mixed with Epsom salts and jasmine bubble bath, his locks sudsy with shampoo. He’s in the middle of shaving his face, dragging the straight razor (his time in the nineteen thirties made him picky towards any other tool, especially those simpleton plastic ones) down his jaw carefully, making sure not to nick the little moles under the corner of his mouth. When his device goes off, he halts all his motions, glancing over from the hand mirror he’s holding before his face. He’d changed her contact name to Watson as homage to their funny little dynamic, but he’d kept the disco balls in their place. He respects the roots of their acquaintanceship.

Fan came in. Wanna come check it out?

He had a nagging suspicion he’d hear from her today. It’s another Friday night, after all. He’s just happy she’d texted earlier than last time so he can flake on his friends without forcing them to wait for an hour. 

Wow, you chose two day shipping? You must be itching to see me.

Don’t let it go to your head. The only thing I’m itching for is your professional opinion. 

Right. Well, me and my professional opinion are washing up at the moment so give me thirty minutes and I’ll be there, yeah?

Sounds good to me, Sherlock. 

Harry decides on an outfit that falls at the center of his dressing spectrum— something comfortable but not lazy. Something semi-formal. He doesn’t really have to impress her anymore (not that he had to try that hard in the first place) but he wants to look good, either way. There’s nothing wrong with showing off what he has, both physically and wardrobe-wise. He chooses a horizontal-striped fitted tee made of thick cotton, the lines alternating between brown, beige, and a light caramel. He tucks the shirt into a pair of mid-rise corduroy flared pants that are a dark mustard shade, shrugging on an olive green jacket with red and white stitch detailing along the edges, large images of cacti embroidered along its expanse. His pearls, cross necklace, and he opts out of his earring this time. Rings, vanilla chapstick, mint gum. Keys, wallet, starch white Vans. 

Before he knows it, he’s being roughly pulled into her home from his spot just outside her threshold, his cherry-lacquer nails carding into the silky hair along the nape of Y/N’s neck as his teeth skim over the hollow of her throat. The human grapples to push his coat off his wide shoulders, backing further down the small hallway of her flat and kicking the door shut. She holds his head firmly to the sensitive spot in her neck that he’d toyed with a week prior, and he can’t resist the way his eyes blink crimson— a hunting impulse, stemming from the sound of her blood rushing through her carotid artery. He hadn’t fed last time— vampires only need to feed once a week to avoid desiccation— so he surely intends to tonight. 

Harry’s hands fit perfectly around the dip of her spine, pulling her body tight to his as he paints sloppy kisses over her jugular. He gets his teasing words out in between desperate gasps and breathy chuckles. “And here I thought this was genuinely going to be about the fan.”

“Shut up.” 

Y/N makes a sharp turn, tugging him into her room instead of the living room and it dawns on him that this is the first time they’re going to fuck in her actual bed. All those instances of sleeping together and not once had they done anything on the piece of furniture that was intended for that sole purpose. It’s ironically hilarious and he voices that opinion as they stumble onto her mattress. 

“You know,” Harry murmurs into her mouth as she shoves him flat onto the rumpled sheets (she hadn’t made her bed this morning and that’s endearing, for some reason), straddling his lap as she hurriedly pulls his t-shirt out from along the waistband of his trousers. “Out of all the times we’ve done this— which is quite a few— we’ve never done anything on your bed other than sleep.” 

That’s a lie. He’s never actually slept in her bed. After staring at the ceiling blankly two weeks ago for about eight hours, he had been smart enough to grab his phone from his pants the second time around. He spent that stretch of time playing Mario Kart and watching Unsolved Mysteries on Netflix with the volume down just out of human earshot, so as to not disturb her slumber. 

Y/N ducks in order to drag her wet, pillowy lips down the butterfly inking on his tummy and over the spines of the two ferns on his pelvis, licking across his happy trail. He jerks in response, a soft grunt gurgling in his lungs as she uses her index finger to trace the outline of his hardening cock through the velvet fabric of his slacks. Her voice is distant, giggle breathless. “Yeah, you’re right. How counterintuitive.”

Harry swiftly pops the button of his trousers, helping her coax them down his legs, releasing a stuttery moan when she immediately bends down and mouths at his prick over his briefs. The soiled stain forming around the tip of his cock would be embarrassing if he didn’t know she found it hot. 

His tone is tight but humorous as she continues licking at him eagerly through his underwear, nails digging into his inner thighs. “Am I your first?”

Confusion flickers in her eyes for a moment before she realizes the joke. He’s referring to if he’s the first person she’s slept with on her new bed in her new home. “Yes, you are, actually.” 

Harry’s juts his bottom lip out into an overly-sweet exaggerated pout, talking in a honeyed drawl. “Aw, I get to christen your bed with you? We’re practically married now. When’s the baby due?” 

“God, you’re a moron.” Y/N bursts into a fit of laughter as she mounts back onto his lap, pinching at his torso in fake spite and feeling her insides flutter at the airy giggles that escape him. She gnaws on her bottom lip thoughtfully for a second, watching with hunger as he finishes removing his shirt and momentarily sits up to chuck it onto the ground over her shoulder. 

Harry falls back onto the mattress, folding his taut arms behind his neck, biceps flexing with the movements as his strong chest and toned stomach look as appealing as ever. She runs her palms over his tanned skin, feeling the sturdy muscle shift beneath her touch. Shit.

The immortal slinks his head to the side, eyes going half-lidded in suggestive mischief as he sees the way she’s objectifying him. He doesn’t mind; he actually lives for it. “Are you just gonna keep staring or are you gonna fuck me?”

His lewd comment washes warmth across Y/N’s ears and spurs her into action. In less than a minute, she’s fully unclothed, bouncing on his cock with a type of need that boils the pit of Harry’s belly. His fingers are digging bruises into her waist, slamming her down onto his prick with enough force to make the old bed creak wildly. She may be on top, but he’s still the one pulling the strings. 

Y/N collapses forward, anchoring herself onto her forearms on either sides of his head, burying her face in his auburn ringlets. She bites onto her tongue, trying to keep a tab on the atrociously loud sounds threatening to spill from her mouth. They come out as broken whines instead, which Harry drinks up like a glass of aged bourbon. She fists at his roots, jolting with every thrust he gives upwards, her knees digging into his love handles to keep balanced. At this point, she’s barely riding him at all. He’s just ramming himself into her from below as he guides her hips and she doesn’t have an issue with that at all. She likes when he leads.  

His growl comes out low and raspy, riding on a moan, his warm, choppy exhales pebbling her bare nipples. “How’s that, darling? How’s that cock feel?”

Y/N nods her head frantically, not trusting her tongue to form an appropriate response. 

“Tell me.” He grits out through bared teeth, back arching a bit as he feels the knot of white hot pleasure in his stomach twist and turn. 

“I— I can’t. I’m—”

One of Harry’s hands coasts down the small of her back and onto her ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. She yelps at the new sensation, pain and bliss intermingling. “Yeah, you fucking can. You will. Use your words. Tell me how much you like it.”

A violent shutter runs through Y/N’s limbs and she instinctively pushes back against his palm. Harry’s eyebrows kink in question as he feels her draw her face back from his hair. One look at her eyes tells the entire narrative: She wants him to spank her. 

Harry slowly lifts his hand from her skin, brows raising a bit higher for confirmation. Y/N smears his lips against his forehead and left cheekbone, bobbing her head desperately, whispering a tiny, “Yes, please.” that sends smoky tendrils of hot air cascading down his straining neck. 

When the vampire’s hand comes down, it’s fast and hard, his cold rings biting into her flesh and leaving welts, the sound echoing off the glossy walls and tall bookshelf in her room. The cry that betrays her could probably be heard down on the main floor of her complex. 

The shattered noise makes Harry sanity slip and he’s lucky she’s too lost in her own bliss to see the way his eyes glow dangerously red. “Fuck, you’re such a slut for it.” 

Harry suddenly boosts himself forward, toppling Y/N backwards until she’s the one wedged against the bed. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, nestling her face into the crook of his sweaty collarbones, cracked cries pooling into the junction of his clavicle as he hikes her roughly up his thighs. He sinks further between her legs until he bottoms out with a loud garbled groan, pushing so deep she can feel him in the trench of her belly. 

“Oh my God, Harry— I— fuck, just—just— oh!”

His pace rises in intensity, strokes messy and unforgivable as he fucks her into the bed, the cracking of the frame warning him that it might give away. “Oh, so you liked that, did you? Like it when I call you a slut and stretch you out like one?”

Harry feels Y/N’s teeth rip into his shoulder in order to evade a scream; a strong shiver pin-balls down his spine as a result. Her voice is absolutely wrecked as she talks over her muffled mouth. “Loved it. Loved it so much. Want—Want more. Please, please, please.”

Harry holds her down firmly to the sheets, pounding into her with a form of unrestrained force he’s never exhibited. She just drives him to the brink like no one else has in nearly twenty decades. “Can you feel me in your tummy, pet? Can you feel how I fill you up?” 

“Yes, yes— it’s so good, Harry. You’re incredible.”

“Such a proper little whore.” He has to actively hold back from digging into her throat with his fangs, his eyes screwing shut in concentration as his orgasm begins to burn through his veins. “Begging me to fuck you like one, over and over. You’ve never had it this good, have you?” 

“N-No. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this.”  

“Hands off.” 

“W-What?”

“Hands off.”

Y/N obeys, throwing her arms above her head and letting them hang off the edge of the bed as he’d instructed. It’s not like he wants her to stop scratching down his back, but he knows that if she continues, he’s going to black out. He’s already teetering, obvious in the black webs he can feel materializing over the whites of his eyes.

“Ask for permission.” 

The mortal unclamps her teeth from his bruised shoulder and swallows heavily, her words sputtering out from how hard she’s jerking against the bed. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please—can I—can I cum?”

“‘May I cum.’” The boy corrects, half because he wants to be a cocky ass, and half because it’s automatic. He was raised during an era where intellectual accuracy was of utmost value in society. It’s hard to leave those lessons behind. 

Y/N hiccups another mewl, hands curling into loose fists above her head as he continues to fuck her deliberately into the duvet. She repeats his phrase shakily. “May I cum? Please?”

Harry’s lashes flutter open and as soon as he sees her, all doe-eyed, covered in his love marks, with her bottom lip trembling...It’s like a switch flips. When he speaks, it’s soft and encouraging; a drastic contrast from his mood a few seconds ago. “Yeah...Yeah, baby, go ahead. Cum for me.” 

That night, as Harry lays there awake staring at that awful popcorn roof with the taste of her blood fresh on his tongue and her steady heartbeat throbbing in his heightened ears, he catches himself smiling in the dark. It doesn't have to do with emotions or feelings or any of that complicated bullshit. It just has to do with the fact that he found some consistency in his life, as unattached and materialistic as it may be. They don’t have a complex bond or a deeper meaning. They simply just coexist. They provide some common stability to each others’ lives and it helps keep an important balance. Stability is so rare to find, especially for an immortal who is condemned to witness the world constantly evolve around them while they remain frozen in time. Society will change, people change, appearances change, alliances change, and though it can be exhilarating, at times, Harry never truly has a say in it. He’s always just strung along for the ride.

This is different. It’s static, and that’s all he really needs it to be. Sex can be so emotionally messy if lines aren’t drawn and boundaries aren’t set. But with Y/N, it’s like they have a silent understanding— an unspoken agreement signed by both parties. It’s a notion that could have spared Harry his life in the past, and it’s an ideal that— even in death— took him centuries to learn:

Some people are meant to be loved, while others are just meant to be naked. 

///

The third week is when things escalate for the better. 

Specifically, Tuesday night. That’s when the sexting starts. 

It’s a pretty calm evening and Harry finds himself with nothing to do. Mitch is out with Sarah, who had come into town two days ago due to the band she’s touring with being on a three week break. She’d said she wasn’t staying for long— maybe a week, because she has plans to visit some other bloodsucker friends in Canada. Even though Mitch tries to hide it, Harry can tell he’s bummed about Sarah’s short visit. The older vampire is good at hiding his emotions, but Harry’s known him for so long that he could read Mitch’s mood even if he was blindfolded and gagged. 

The jade-eyed boy had been honest with his best friend, asking him what the point was in continuing to see someone whose depth of interest in the relationship wasn’t as developed as his own. Mitch had simply shrugged one shoulder and told Harry that he wouldn’t understand. He mentioned something about how eventually, the freshblood high would wear off and Sarah would find herself wanting to settle down somewhere with someone she could trust for the rest of eternity. Mitch explained that he cared for her enough to wait until then. 

His best mate had been wrong. Harry does understand. He understands the concept of chasing after someone who, in the end, didn’t want anything to do with him. He understands it a little too well, sadly. He figures that’s the same fate Mitch is bound to suffer, just on a less extreme level. 

But then again, Harry’s perception of love is majorly skewed, so who is he to judge?

With Mitch tied up with Sarah (probably literally, though Harry doesn’t dwell on that; it’s none of his business), his options dwindle to the rest of the crew. Niall and Xander had invited him to a concert they were attending, but Harry politely declined the offer. The musicians were some wannabe indie band and Harry would rather swallow a nicotine addict’s blood than listen to a couple of morons sing in cursive. Adam had suggested he tag along with him, Ny-Oh, and Charlotte to a new art exhibit that had opened up in the next town over. It was a thirty minute drive, so it wasn’t that bad, but Harry declined that invitation, as well. He loves art, if the giant collection on his wall has anything to say about it, but he doesn’t get on well with Ny or Charlotte. They say he’s “too much of an arrogant dickhead” to be around for an extended period of time. They’re right, of course, but it still hurts. Plus, Ny has a mullet and Harry knows he wouldn’t be able to withhold from making a Billy Ray joke. It’s best he stay away, lest she end up with an achy-breaky heart.

So that leaves him here, all alone at eight P.M. on a Tuesday, plopped on his couch in nothing but a pair of maroon plaid boxers as Hamilton plays on the ninety inch flatscreen mounted on his glass wall. He had left the curtains open, not really caring that he’s practically naked. The sun’s already set and it’s almost pitch black outside; plus, he lives on the twenty-fourth floor of the condominium complex. The only living being risking an eyeful is a peepy pigeon. Even then, Harry’s more than happy to put on a show. He’s confident enough in himself that nudity is practically second nature. His friends can attest to that. 

Harry lays across his leather sofa with a large checkered throw cushion snuggled into his side, one of his hands slung across the backrest of the couch as the other remains submerged wrist-deep in a bag of Veggie Straws. His socked feet are propped up on his round marble coffee table, ankles crossed and posture anything but eloquent. The apartment is silent, except for the musical streaming through the speakers of his television set and the gentle pattering of rain just outside his glorified window pane, accompanied by the faint flickering of the city lights below. The atmosphere of the room is relaxed and cozy and it lulls his soul in a manner he can’t put into words.

Harry has always liked the rain. Ever since he was a child, he would sit by the small round window of the attic room he shared with his older sister, watching it fall from the sky in sheets of glittering sapphires, soaking into the dry ground and turning it into a slush of dirt he would later sneak out to play in. When he got older, he would prop his shoulder against the doorframe at the back of his father’s blacksmith shop and gaze at it, mesmerized by how it would trickle down the streets of the public market, washing away all the grime that came with a bustling city’s reputation. Sometimes he would stand in it, feeling its cool touch run down his arms and soak into the back of his sot-covered work shirt. He enjoyed how it would cleanse the sticky sweat from his face and neck, its gentle nature leaving him feeling like he could float through air. Then his father would call him back into the store and playfully scold him for allowing himself to get drenched, warning that his mother would kill him if he caught a cold. 

Harry’s changed a lot since then, he knows that, but it comforts him that his love for rain is the one aspect of his personality that two hundred years of Hell had failed to take from him. 

The melodies swimming out of his TV reign him back in from memory lane. 

Harry’s not really one to enjoy musicals, but back when Hamilton had first hit Broadway, he’d used his persuasive supernatural abilities to sneak into one of the first showings. He’d been curious as to what all the hype was about, and the play did not disappoint. The songs were catchy, the acting was good, and the characters were brought to life through raw emotion and comedy. He respected that. And the plot of the story itself resonated with him deeply, as well. A protagonist that rose from nothing, fell in love with the wrong woman, and made terrible life choices that seemed correct at the time, which would all eventually lead to his death. It hit a bit too close to home. 

If he had a dollar for every time he’s seen it since it had come out on Disney+, he could probably pay rent himself instead of compelling others to do it for him. 

The play is halfway through one of its most famous ballads when the monster’s phone dings with a familiar tune. A smirk is already etching itself across his face before he even unlocks his device. 

I need interior design advice. 

I’m still a little sore from our last help session. How’d you bounce back so quick?

Funny, but I need ACTUAL interior design advice this time. 

Harry’s brows furrow in mild confusion and slight disappointment. He draws his hand from the junk food container, dusting off the crumbs. Oh. 

Genuinely? 

Yup!

He guesses he’ll give it a go. He does have pretty exquisite taste; the modern gothic aesthetic of his condo proves that. It’s not like he has anything better to do.

Alright, shoot. 

Y/N releases the breath she’d been holding in. Thank God he’s agreed to help. As much as she’s ashamed to admit it, Harry’s really the only person in LA that she deems relatively close to a friend. She hasn’t managed to mesh well with her coworkers much, despite the fact that she’s been trying extremely hard. She just doesn’t wanna force herself into unfulfilling fake friendships for the sake of having people to flaunt. It’s not right and she knows she’d grow to resent it. 

So instead, she’d reached out to the one California resident who doesn’t make her skin crawl. 

Whew, okay, thanks in advance! So I went out yesterday and got a new bedspread and I wanted some help choosing a new accessory to go with it, which is going on my wall. 

Harry’s ears perk up and his back straightens at her statement. Could she finally, by the grace of fucking God, be getting rid of that shitty tapestry? 

Well, let me see it, then. Don’t keep a man waiting, I’m dying to play Property Brothers over here.

A picture comes through of the two new accessories Y/N is referring to and the way Harry’s face drops instantly is almost comical.

Which tapestry fits better? I’m thinking the Van Gogh style painting of a lighthouse. The blue goes well with the dark turquoise of the comforter. But then again, the forest canopy has those pretty exotic flowers that compliment the coral stitching. I can’t decide. 

The vampire’s face pinches in disgusted horror as he blinks down numbly at the image on his screen. He’s going to be sick. Those Veggie Straws are about to make a hideous comeback. 

…two new tapestries? Did the other one rip or…?

What? No!! I just saw these down at the thrift store and thought they were cute. Why? Are they really that bad??

They’re not just bad, they’re worse. He’s going to ask her to blindfold him next time he visits. 

They’re…kinda immature, dove. I just thought you’d go for something cooler this time, like a vintage painting or a couple vinyls to mount on the wall. 

Immature? 

Oops. He should have picked his words more carefully. Now he’s gone and offended her and she’ll probably bite down the next time he puts his—

Another message interrupts his spiraling negative conclusions.

I know you didn’t just call ME immature when you compared me to a cream-filled donut, Harry. 

The playful tone in the text delivers a wave of relief that is almost as pleasurable as what lies between Y/N’s legs. 

Can I speak freely for a second? Full disclosure, no consequences?

That preface makes me think you’re about to chew me out.

I’ll be gentle, I promise. I know it’s not our usual dynamic, but I’ll give it a go.

Y/N ignores the bristling across her cheeks. 

Alright, go head.

I just think tapestries are kinda stupid. They scream “confused teenager trying to find myself.” But that’s just my opinion. I’m only telling you so you know that I’m probably not the best bloke to go to with tapestry inquiries. 

Harry watches as a read receipt stares up at him for a few seconds. Just when he thinks he might have truly upset her this time, her message bubble pops up. 

So...the one I’ve had hanging in my room the last three times you’ve been over…

I had to actively restrain the urge to strangle myself with it.

Y/N breaks out into laughter. The image of waking up to Harry laying facedown on her bedroom floor, balls naked and mummified within a sunrise tapestry...It’s sending her. 

Well, you know what? That’s not fair! You can’t judge my house when I haven’t even had the chance to judge yours. 

Harry nods once to himself in surrender, reaching up to finger-comb a few rebellious curls out of his eyes. She makes a valid play. 

Fair enough. You’ll have to come over and give me your opinion sometime.

I’d be honored to. Now, would you be so kind as to put your own personal bias aside this once and help me choose which one to put up. I promise I’ll spare you any more tapestry-related problems in the future. I’ll remove it from my customer contract.

Harry sighs defeatedly. He can’t believe he’s giving up his integrity for sex. 

Fine. Send me a picture of both of them up on the wall. It’ll give some perspective. 

Y/N giddily obliges, deciding to send a video instead. That way, she can get all of the angles in one go rather than having to send multiple pictures. 

Harry waits patiently, shoving another handful of chips into his mouth as he taps his foot against the coffee table to the tune of Wait for It, which is playing in the film that has now become the backdrop of his night. When Y/N’s next message comes through, he’s mildly surprised to find it’s a video. He clicks play, watching intently as she circles the two pinned tapestries slowly, making sure to get a proper view from all sides. By the time the thirty second clip is coming to an end, Harry’s leaning more towards the tropical canopy painting. It’s not as loud and she was right about the flowers matching the stitching on the duvet. 

He’s about to tap back “the forest one” when something flashes across the screen that makes him choke on his snack, launching him into a coughing fit.  

It’s within the last three seconds of the video and if he had cut it off in order to text back, he would have missed it. But he hadn’t, and now it’s burned into the back of his eyelids, causing a buzzing sensation to string right to the area between his thighs.  

The last few frames of the video, Y/N had lowered her phone from the position she’d been suspending it, probably thinking she had already stopped filming. She hadn’t. And because of that, Harry gets a full frontal view of her body, covered in nothing except a pair of lace panties and a mid-thigh oversized Avengers t-shirt. The entire screen fills with bare, silky skin and raunchy lace and he can feel his fangs poke into his tongue. 

Harry’s not a pre-teen; he’s not going to drool over seeing a pair of legs. What really gets to him is the fact that it appears Y/N still has a few hickies across the inner area of her thighs, which have failed to fade as quickly as the others. They should be gone, given that anytime Harry feeds (like he had the last time they’d slept together), he always gives her a bit of his blood to heal. Meaning, normal bruises like that should be gone. Maybe he just hadn’t given her a high enough dosage, or maybe he’d marked her more than he remembers, but either way, the stains are there.

The vampire ogles at the paused image with a dry throat and wide eyes. Just seeing her like that, dressed in comfy yet effortlessly sensual attire with no bottoms on whatsoever, freely flaunting his love bites around her apartment, probably looking at them in her mirror, thinking about how his teeth had felt grazing her skin…

It’s enough to pop a stiffy into his briefs. 

Harry glimpses over the top of his phone, swallowing thickly at the large bulge beginning to tent his boxers. His socked toes curl as he feels a longing throb begin to swell at the pit of his clenching stomach. Great. This is just fucking perfect. 

He attempts to tap back a reply, but his hands have started quivering slightly, clumsy thumbs ruining his message to the point where he has to retype it three times.

The forest one. I agree with what you said about the stitching. 

Okay, thank you so much! Your input is highly appreciated, as always.

The immortal finds himself gnawing at the inside of his cheek, weighing on whether he should mention the little softcore porn moment she’d unknowingly shot, or if he should just let it slide and go take care of the issue that is literally weighing on him— he can feel it getting heavy against his thigh. 

His fingers seem to take on a mind of their own, printing out a quick sentence and hitting the send button before he can rethink his motives. 

Did you watch your video before you sent it?

Uh no...It looked pretty okay to me while I took it. Why, do you need a different one? Was the lighting too dark? 

The fact that she sent it by accident only adds to the appeal. She’s such a good girl. So fucking innocent and sweet, she could practically give him a toothache. 

Do me a quick favor and rewatch it all the way to the end. I think you’ll be surprised with what you find.

Y/N leans back against her bookshelf wall, chewing on her bottom lip as a sly grin ticks the corners. She doesn’t have to rewatch the video. She’s fully aware of what she had done, which had been completely on purpose. She’s only playing dumb to see his reaction, getting off on how flustered he seems to have become. Yes, her intentions for contacting him had originally been purely for his opinion on decor. But when she saw the chance, she decided to jump headfirst and take it. What are friends with benefits for if not for times like these, when you’re too lazy to come over but need a bit of relief? 

The human allows a full thirty seconds to pass, simulating that she’s watching the video, and then thoughtfully taps out her response.

Oh, whoops. Sorry for the indecent exposure.

Harry shifts in exasperation against his sofa, the radiating in his abdomen crawling up to his chest and down to his knees. He needs to take care of himself now.

It’s fine, babe. You just might wanna be more careful, cause this time around you got lucky that it was me and it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Could go south if it were someone else. 

Y/N rolls her eyes lightly at his scolding, but continues to play the clueless act, curious to see where it’ll take her. 

You’re absolutely right, I’m so sorry. 

Harry clears his throat, flinching as he feels a soft twitch run up the length of his cock. He exhales tightly, trying to steer the conversation into a lighter mood. He doesn’t want her to feel bad; it’s not like he’s angry about this. He’s hot and bothered and needy, but not mad.

I just think it’s funny you exposed the fact that you go around your house without pants. 

Oh, fuck off! No one ever wears pants around their own house, especially if they’re alone. It’s one of the laws of physics. No human resistance, no pants. 

Harry glances down at his body symbolically, where he’s clad in only his underwear, as well.

Touché.

Exactly. 

A pause befalls the conversation as both parties fish for something new to say. The situation’s become less lively and more intense now and neither are sure how to navigate without crossing a line. In a surge of courage, Y/N decides to just directly communicate her intentions, praying that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. 

I have an idea, just hear me out. For the sake of evening the playing field, I think that since you saw me pantsless, it’s only fair that I see you the same way. It balances out, right?

Harry’s jaw drops in an open-mouthed simper, impressed by her blatant suggestion, but also by how smoothly she had delivered it. He mumbles his next words to himself, voice amused and somewhat awed at how she had managed to spin this to her benefit. “You clever little minx. Bet it wasn’t even an accident.”

You did it on purpose, didn’t you?

Y/N purses her lips, shrugging her brows cheekily.

Maybe.

The vampire scoffs, taken aback not only at the ploy she’d pulled off, but at how unapologetic she is about the whole thing. It’s hot. 

Alright, l’ll bite. Tick for tack. 

The photo that comes through makes Y/N choke on her spit. It’s not anything too revealing, but it packs a lot. Literally. 

It’s a pretty casual picture, and she gets the feeling he took it as so just to be a tease. In the frame, all she sees is a snapshot of Harry’s lap, thighs straining against the flimsy material of a pair of crimson tartan boxers, the large tigerhead tattoo he totes somehow prominent in the low lightning. Of course it stands out, though. That’s to be expected; his thighs are thick in the most satisfying fashion and they’re one of his most defining features. She can also see the bottom half of his lean tummy, the cutoff being the crest of his belly button. His fern inkings are peeking out of from below the waistband of the Calvin Kleins, dark and matte on his lightly bronzed skin, and she spots the nonchalant position of his crossed ankles in the background. 

As appetizing as every little detail is, the centerpiece of the portrait is the obvious bulge pressing into the fabric of his briefs. The outline is so prominent, the picture borderlines on graphic. His cock looks pretty as ever, even when it’s covered; the thin underwear leaves very little to the imagination. 

Y/N has to bite down on her tongue to keep from making an embarrassing sound.

Wow, okay, well...Your picture was much more explicit than my video. That’s not fair at all. Throws off the equilibrium we were trying to establish. 

Harry chuckles aloud, shaking his head in amazement at how well she can bend the game to her will. Three weeks ago, when he’d first laid eyes on that shy girl at the club, he would have never expected her to be so bold. Now, she has him wrapped around her pinky like a string.

You’re absolutely right. My apologies. Maybe you should send one similar so we can even out the stakes. 

You read my mind.

Y/N’s next picture causes a hiss to stream through the cracks of Harry’s teeth, eyes glinting red.

It’s a picture taken on top of her bed, the angle set from above. She’s laying on her side, her torso twisted so that her backside is in the shot, her huge tee pulled tight against her waist so it creates an enticing cinching effect. Her thighs are clasped together, the collar of her shirt pulled away just enough that he can see where the valley of her chest begins to curve, and the cheeky lace panties are working utter wonders for her ass. He can’t stop staring. He physically can’t pull himself away, his eyes bouncing across every pixel, attempting to commit the picture to memory to keep it locked in the back of his brain forever. 

Y/N awaits anxiously for his reaction, biting into the pad of her thumb as the seconds list by, wondering if he had enjoyed the nude or if he was just sitting there judging all her flaws. It’s been so long since she’s sent a risky photo like that, she can’t help but stress. Sharing your body with someone digitally is almost as intimate as real sex and it comes with similar worries and insecurities. Was the angle good? Are her stretch marks unattractive? Are the dimples along her backside gross? Is he second-guessing their arrangement? Is he wishing they hadn’t met?

She practically drops her phone when it vibrates.

God, you look stunning. Like a proper fucking dream.

All of her concerns immediately disintegrate, replaced by an odd sense of pride. She’s happy that he enjoyed it, and she’s thankful for the caliber of his response. Most men don’t care to comment that nicely, if they comment at all, and Harry’s enthusiasm only excites her further. She wants to keep going. 

You look pretty fucking good yourself. Wish I could just kneel between your thighs, take you into my mouth, and make you feel good for hours. 

Harry struggles to get saliva down his parched throat, her words bouncing around the inside of his skull, sending a current of bliss directly to where he needs it. 

Hours? You want me down your throat for hours?

For hours, Harry. I’d literally just sit between your legs and let you fuck my face again. Let you use me to make yourself cum.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry’s broken whine echoes off the tall walls of his home, one of his big hands finding a path to his curls and tugging in desperation. He needs to keep composure. 

Harry’s next snapshot comes through and Y/N has to screw her eyes shut for a second to brace the bolt of electricity that zips down to her core. 

The boy’s thighs have parted wider, his feet now down from the table, knees hanging off the edge of the sofa. His free hand has delved below his briefs, pulling them up just enough to show a tad of the neatly trimmed area beneath. His fingers are cupped over his cock, hiding it from plain view, but the imprint of his knuckles on the fabric suggest he’s gripping it tightly. The longer she looks, the more she notices— specifically, a dark damp patch spreading at the middle of his boxers and she knows damn well what it is. The fact that she’d got him riled up enough that he’s leaking through like that...She can hardly breathe right. 

Shit, you look so good. How do you always look that fucking good? I just want to feel you stretch me out while you moan into my mouth. 

Harry slowly starts pumping his palm up and down his cock as he rereads her words, catching his lower lip between his teeth, his naked and flushed chest stuttering. He doesn’t want to be the douche that tells her to send another picture, but he really needs her to. He wants to see what she’s doing, how she’s fairing. Wants to know if he has her as fucked as she has him right now. 

It’s almost like they share a telepathic link because not even five seconds later, another beautifully filthy photo is decorating his screen. 

This time around, Y/N has decided to fully lay on her back, spreading her legs open and drawing her knees up slightly so that her thighs are not only flexing, but displaying all the love bites he’d left only a few days prior. They’re all different shades of purple and brown, scattered over the satin suppleness of her skin, painting a canvas of the heated night they’d shared. It’s art at its most prestigious, if he’s ever seen it. And she has her hand ducked below her panties, the outline of her fingers situated right over her clit. 

Harry’s own hand instinctively tightens around his length, pulling a weak groan from his parted lips. He throws his head back against the backrest of the couch, bucking into his palm and teasing his forefinger over his bubbling tip. He spreads the precum all over the sensitive head, whimpering when the draft from the air conditioning caresses it and sends a quiver toppling over his shoulders. 

Fuck, she’s driving him mental. There’s only one way to take care of this effectively, despite their distance. 

I’m going to call you.

Y/N gulps heavily, licking over her chapped lips and feeling her pulse jump at the realization that she’ll be getting to hear his throaty voice coax her through an orgasm. Not only that, but she’ll get to hear him cum, too. She’ll get to hear every shattered gasp and needy mewl, almost as if he were pouring all those sounds of pleasure right into her ears in person. 

The mortal’s heart hiccups when his contact pops up on the Caller ID, phone vibrating insistently. After a deep breath taken to ground herself, she slides her shaky thumb over the glass, slowly bringing the device up to her ear. Her voice is soft and timid as ever, a tremble running through its undertone. “H-Hello?”

Harry’s words come through the crackling speaker as dark and smoky as whiskey, pouring into her mind and intoxicating her as easily as the real liquor would.

“Flip onto your stomach and take off the lace. Now.”

[goodgirlsfanficawards]

This Wednesday we’ve lined up five WIPs that feature pairings other than Beth and Rio. Make sure you check them out and leave a kudos or comment especially if you can’t wait to see what happens next!

Not So Simple by makemeanybraver

Annie x Nancy, 05 June 2020, T, 1/?

"Hey, Nance, you want to tell me what's going?" Annie said in a stern and defensive tone, but not trying to give too much anger. Annie walked past her and pulled off her beanie and scarf. She took a seat on the couch and patted the spot next to her. Nancy closed and locked the door again, then went and took that spot. She slumped over her shoulders, wrapped her arms around her knees, made herself look so small.

"I feel so useless. He cries and it takes me half an hour to find out what he wants. I give it to him and it takes him another half hour to be satisfied with it. And then, an hour later, he wants more and more and more," Nancy whined, looking down at her feet. She felt Annie's hand on her back, rubbing up and down to comfort her.

"I read about this... In all the books. But I didn't think it would happen to me because I wanted him so bad. We tried so hard to make it happen. Now that he's here, I don't feel happy... I just feel so... Exhausted..." she said as she started crying all over again, putting her face in her hands. Nancy slowly inched closer and closer to Annie until she was fully leaning up against her and crying on her shoulder. "And I can't stop doing this. Every night I cry myself to sleep," she whined softly, taking in a gulp of air with every other word. Now, Annie put both arms around her and squeezed her while rubbing her thumbs against her arms. She thought very carefully of what to say. Saying that it happens to everyone didn't seem very useful. Saying that I know how you feel didn't seem very comforting. Then Annie realized that if Nancy really cried herself to sleep every night, she didn't need to say anything comforting. She just needed to be there. And listen.

Navigate a Broken Path by flashindie / @pynkhues​

Mary Pat x Mick, 15 Nov 2020, T, 12K, ½

The next night, he can only watch again as she spills out the medication on the kitchen table, rifling around for something to ease the baby’s cries, and then he remembers something else, and at least it makes sense.

The memory of how fucked up Rio had been when Marcus had croup, and shit, at least there was only one of him. He doesn’t know how she’s coping with all four kids wheezing and sneezing, and okay, maybe she’s not really coping, he thinks, watching when she stumbles outside, like she needs the air, the baby clutched to her chest and howling.

He watches her do a lap of the front yard and then another, kicking up khaki green grasshoppers as she tramples overgrown grass. Watches her neck flush red and her too-blue eyes close and the tears pearl in her lashes, and then he hears her too:

“You’ll get better, you’ll get better, you’ll get better,” she says, her voice raw, and Mick blinks and he sees his own hands, trembling as he tries to lay stitches in Rio’s side the first time, the second, the third.

He blinks and he sees them gripping the steering wheel too tight.

“Come on,” he hears her say. “Get better for mommy.” 

Secret Escape by BreannaM13

Beth x OFC, 11 Dec 2020, E, 11K, 5/?

The woman climbed into the chair and ordered a beer. “Long day?” 

Beth laughed, “Something like that.” 

“I get that. Going through my own shit. Hints why I’m at the bar at 11 am.” she laughed. “Frankie by the way.” 

“Hi, Frankie.” Beth greeted.  

“You got a name?” 

“Oh god. Yes sorry. It's Beth.” 

Frankie laughed, “You really are having a rough day. Nice to meet you, Beth.” 

Beth downs the rest of her drink and grabs her purse off the back of the chair. “Nice to meet you as well. I better get going, I have to get things done before my kids get home.” 

“Here, let me pay your tab.” she gestured as she flagged down the bartender. 

“Oh, that's not necessary.”

The woman looked at her with her big brown eyes, “How about I pay for your tab and then you pay me back by going out to dinner with me.”

Knock Knock by Melaniemia

Rio x OFC, 28 Dec 2020, M, 67K, 13/?

“Can I help you, sweetheart?” he asked, leaning against the door frame and regarding her cautiously. He didn't know this woman, and the fewer people who knew where he lived, the better.

“This is gonna sound crazy since you don't know me but I live in the apartment right next to yours and it got broken into today while I was at work.” she spoke so fast that he was immediately disarmed by her. She was obviously nervous, and wanted to be anywhere but standing here in front of a strange man she didn't know. 

“You wanna wait in here until the cops come or somethin?” he asked, still wondering what she was doing here and growing more impatient by the minute. He still wanted nothing more then food and to collapse into bed.

“No, see I can't call the cops.” she said vaguely, making no indication that she was going to give him anymore information then that. “Just wondering if you had a baseball bat I could borrow for a few minutes.”

His eyes flashed a bit at this as he raised an eyebrow in response. He had pegged this girl all wrong, that much was becoming very clear. 

“Sure do.” he smirked, grabbing his wooden bat from its place against the table directly to his right. He tossed it at her suddenly, surprised by her once again when she caught it without missing a beat.

It's All Coming Back To Me by BourbonOnTheRocks / @bourbon-ontherocks​

Beth x OC, Rio x OC, 23 Jun 2020, M, 49K, 10/11

"I think I'm being followed," she explained.

They both remained silent for a while. He looked away with that amused expression on his face, the one he usually pulled on whenever he was about to explain to her why what she'd just said was ridiculous.

"Yeah... You think or you sure?" he asked.

He'd never trusted her. Since the very beginning. Obviously it could only get worse in the aftermath. She wasn't exactly sure of why he'd kept working with her. Of course she owed him money, but if she'd been in his shoes, she'd rather have written down that line under miscellaneous losses than gotten back in business with the very person who'd... done that. Whatever.

"Pretty sure," she replied with a defiantly raised chin.

Never tell Rio she was sure of anything, that was her number one rule. No, not exactly, it was probably number two, the number one actually being all about always standing at least five steps away from him. Anyway. Displaying absolute certitudes would be suicidal, that was the fucking point. He was too much of a I-told-you-so person for her to take that risk. He gave up pretty quickly this time, though.

If you know of anyone’s tumblr/twitter and we haven’t found it or tagged incorrectly, please send us an ask to let us know.

[thesazjazz]

Rules: Answer these & tag 9 people you want to get to know better! I was tagged by @thelittleredheadedmusician hi Melissa what’s up I hope you enjoy reading how much of a nerd you already know I am 💙 love u

Last Song: I was just playing a long playlist of Pokémon music (Diamond/Pearl/Platinum) because I was reading for class and I usually put on either my own instrumental playlist (it’s pretty great) or soundtracks, lately Pokémon (there are some good long videos on YouTube, Relaxing Pokémon Music Volumes 1-3) or Undertale cuz both slap

Last Movie: uhhhhh I guess it’s not a full length movie but I watched a documentary about the Holocaust called Numbered on Netflix a couple weeks ago- thought it was really good, it’s focus is on first-hand interviews with survivors and their stories and not so much like a WWII history documentary ya know. There were both survivors and direct relatives of recently deceased survivors so it was really thought-provoking.

Currently Reading: Melissa’s @thelittleredheadedmusician draft of her book Hitch Hiker! It’s very good but I haven’t gotten very far yet because school just Hit™️ this week and it’s been quite the time getting thrown back into that, and I’m also preparing to finally move back to campus on Saturday bless up but I’m feeling stressed.

Fiction book I finished a couple weeks ago was Simon vs The Homosapiens Agenda, oh AND I watched the movie adaptation Love, Simon so that falls under movies too. Book >>>>>> movie, as usual but the movie is reeeeeaaally different and very hallmark/HBO ish so the story that it DID include (which was very edited from the book) felt very not real or genuine like the book did. Real shame but highly recommend the book, and if you’ve only seen the movie please please read the book you’re really missing OUT.

Currently Craving: man we’ve been buying these dark chocolate covered pretzels from Trader Joe’s and they are very good so yes I’m craving them but food cravings are touchy for me so I’m ALSO gonna say I’m craving people. And the ability to work outside of the four walls of my home but I will get both of those things SO soon and I literally can’t wait I gotta get the fuck outta here (people will be from a safe distance but they WON’T be related to me for a change bless).

Working on anything rn?: school work already kinda hitting and 3/4 of my classes are pretty reading heavy so far so I gotta get into a better rhythm but hey it’s day 3 going on day 4 so I’m trying not to beat myself up too much. Other than that I’m trying to get back to playing my trumpet more! I got a sick silent mute which is gonna come in very handy for when I’m living in a dorm soon omg.

Currently Playing: YES okay I’ve been playing Among Us with a couple of my friends and it’s a really fun multiplayer game that’s basically like mafia except you’re on a space ship. It’s really fun and basically you can play up to 10 people in a round and there are usually 2 Imposters and the rest are crew mates, these are randomly assigned at the beginning of the round. Basically no one knows who is what at the beginning: the goal of the crew mates is to complete tasks to keep the ship from exploding while also staying alive and paying close attention to who is doing what in order to figure out who the imposters are. The Imposters can sabotage certain parts of the ship in order to disorient the crew mates and kill them off one by one, but they have to be careful not to get caught and defend themselves cleverly when a body is found and reported or an emergency meeting is called. Basically everything time a meeting is called everyone in the game Discussed to try and figure out who the Imposters are, but the Imposters take part in this too and try to fake their way in the discussion by either blaming other people or lying really well. I’m good at being a crewmate and I’m so so at Imposter so far, sometimes I jump the gun and kill people too early so I accidentally get caught because people see me lol.

ALSO, I busted out my old Nintendo DS Lite and that’s been a pleasure the get back into. I can’t really get the WiFi to connect but you don’t need it unless you’re trying to do multiplayer stuff. Anyways I’ve been playing Pokémon Platinum because I love pokémon, I picked up on an old save file that was started in 2013 lol and I was about halfway through the gym badges. It’s hard to train for these gyms though!! Takes a lot of time to level up your Pokémon and I was also dead BROKE for some reason so I had like no medicine and at first I was like shit where can I find people to battle and get money but I found a really good route to battle on and I’m using the Amulet Coin and Exp Share to get double moneyyy and level up my Pokémon faster. It’s a great time but honestly at first I was like shit I’m really stuck cuz I have no money so I could only battle wild Pokémon for so long for xp but that doesn’t give you money and I kept running back to the Pokémon center because I had like no potions lol. But I got a really good vibe going now, got two of my bois to their final evolution (Rapidash and Monferno) but still need to get more levels rip.

Tagging: literally almost everyone i know on here was already tagged by Melissa and I really don’t have many friend followers, or followers period lol soooo like maybe 3 people will read this but of the few people I know here there’s ONE person left hi Rachel I love u you don’t have to do this at all tho no pressure, I really just did this cuz I’m boreddddd @rootfiziler

[marvelheaux]

T’challa’s Outside Daughter (Chapter 2)

T’challa x BlackDaughter!Reader or O/C

A/N : Here’s chapter 2! Sorry I didn’t upload this earlier, I was really busy :( I hope that you like it! Be sure to check out the story links below or search the “Zyra Udaku” tag for stuff pertaining to the fic. Enjoy! - Lanna xx

Description : Zyra is the first born of King T’challa. She moved to the states and grew up with her Single mother with hardly any contact with her father. Queen Mother Ramonda decided that with all the drama and secrets going on, that it's time to bring the family together .

Story Links:

Main Character + Faceclaim

Character List

She met one of her father's  Exes (oneshot)

TOD Prologue , Chp1

Warnings: Possible Grammar Errors, Angst, Strong Language

Words: 2K

FLASHBACK (one year ago)

        The king and the royal council gathered for a  meeting (more like a parent meeting) was in effect to discuss a verbal feud that had been going on between the King’s daughter Sariyah and the River Tribe Elder’s youngest daughter Kailee. According to Princess Sariyah, it was alleged that Kailee ‘purposely’ bumped into her at the mall and didn’t ‘properly apologised to her’ . This matter turned ugly when Sariyah’s friends were egging her on causing them to both exchange insults. Kailee’s insult ; “I’ll beat yo ass like your daddy should! Don’t play with me” is the main reason for this meeting.

“She started it!” Sariyah whined, whilst standing next her her father’s throne. “She had the nerve to threaten me!” She was trying to explain her side so she can validate her ‘innocence’ to her parents.

Kailee rolled her eyes.

“When I said I’ll beat yo ass, I mean that shit”

“Kailee watch you mouth umntwana!” the tribe leader shouted sternly to his daughter.

Kumkani DID NOT have time for this. He actually had to handle some business with the UN officials and hoped that this silly disagreement would be resolved quickly.

“SILENCE!” The room stood still as the King spoke.

“ There is no proven evidence that my daughter started this fight. Kailee, I assure you if you insult my daughter like that again, there will be consequences.”

“WHAT? I didn’t do anything to her! She called my sister a slut!”

“Meeting adjourn-.”

“If only you put as much energy into Zyra like you do with her..”

“Eh?”

Everyone in the room stunned and shocked by Kailee’s wild statement. Who didn’t clutch their pearls, threw their hands dramatically on their heads. This cause the King to jump out of his royal seat.

“EXCUSE ME? IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR YOU REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID!”

Queen Ramonda attempted to plead to  her son, but she failed.

“Kumkani-”

“Ndicela uphinde! KAILEE!”

Kailee smirked with satisfaction as she gracefully stood up from her seat and projected her voice.”

“Ahem. I SAID! IF YOU PUT AS MUCH ENERGY INTO ZYRA, YOUR DAUGHTER, WHO LIVES IN NEW YORK-

“KAILEE PLEASE LEAVE! NOW!”

“Gladly. Have a great evening Kumkani.” Kailee flashed a snarky smile at King T’challa and left with her father, who was very angry at her for her rude outbursts.

The King's wife Nicolette stood up, confused. “T’challa what is she talking about? Who IS Zyra?”

During this time, The three remaining tribe elders and leaders, quickly made their way out the door, trying to avoid questioning from the Queen. Flashbacks of Zyra’s toddler laughter, and her heartstopping smile, played in his mind as he struggled to avoid his wife’s needy gaze. He stood at the place window overseeing Golden City as a distraction.

“Ramonda?” She looked to her mother-in-law for reassurance, but all she got was a solemn glance.

“Someone answer me!”

Queen Ramonda decided to leave the room promptly instead of getting in the middle. She had been quiet about her estranged granddaughter for years, solely because she wants her son to learn from his mistakes. Anything that happens between now and the future, HE has to fix it.

On the other hand, Nicolette was tired of her husband dancing around the truth and a throbbing pain in her head was brewing.

“T’challa, is it true? Do you really have another daughter?”

More images of Zyra popped up in his head; when he held her as a newborn for the first time, ‘Dada!’, her first words, the tears in Raechella’s eyes , the look on Zyra’s face whenever he pushed her away- It all was starting to consume him.

He turned slowly to face his wife, who is clearly not pleased with him.

“Yes”

Nicolette broke a cold sweat as she was trying to take in what was going on.

“When were you gonna tell me this? When she pops out of nowhere?”

“This was not how you were suppose to find ou-”

“Do better!” she spat bitterly, as she stormed out of the throne room with tears in her eyes.

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

Nicolette slumped over the balcony of the Queens’ quarters, taking in the glorious wakandan sunset, as she recapped this afternoon’s events. She turned off her kimoyo beads, because she doesn’t want to hear T’challa’s ‘apologies’. ‘How could he? After all these years.’ She questioned herself. ‘How can he keep such a secret from me?’ Everything makes sense to her now. Why she was never allowed into the King’s office before T’challa was crowned King. Why T’chaka and Ramonda spoke in codes about calls to and from New York. Why the photo of a little girl that she found was snatched from her hands from T’chaka’s personal assistant. It confirmed all the media blogs, wakandan theories and rumors of a “Bastard child and a Secret Baby Mama” that she was encouraged by T’challa to forget about.

Her busy thoughts were interrupted by a touch of someone’s hand, which caused Nicolette to jump out of her skin.

“A penny for your thoughts, My sweet?” Queen Mother sang sweetly while handing her a cup of chamomile tea.

They both sat on the balcony chairs. “I just can’t believe T’challa would hide this from me, from us.”

Nicolette took a sip of her tea. “Can I ask you something Umazala?”

“Mhmm”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not my place. Period.” Queen Ramonda stated, as she sat back in her chair with her legs crossed.

“He is a King now, and he need to act like a man and stop running from his past like a coward. This was a life lesson for him.”

Nicolette glanced at the view over the balcony in deep thought.

Her mother-in-law sat her teacup and saucer down and stood up.

“Come with me my dear.”

Ramonda led her to T’chaka’s old private archives stored in her quarters. Nicolette’s stomach churned as Queen Mother brought out a large photo album along with letters and some of Zyra’s belongings. She started to feel desperate for answers. As she browsed through the album, Nicolette’s face lights up. She came across baby photos, some with shuri and action photos of her at competitions. Zyra’s high school photo, and her graduation photo from Spelman College made her smile.

“She’s beautiful”

Her mother-in-law nodded in agreement. “Yes she is. I miss her so much.”

“...and she looks just like him.”

Ramonda and her daughter-in-law had long discussion about Zyra and her mother, and their experiences in the house before she came into the picture until the moon rose.This was all new to Nicolette. T’challa never striked her as the type to lie. But anything goes at this point.

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

Nicolette woke up to an empty bed after a restless sleep in the guest bedroom. After yesterday’s events, she was still mad at her husband and she was not in the mood for him to be trying to get on her good side, so she decided not to retire in the matrimonial bed last night. She was just about to freshen up when she heard a soft knock on the door. She sighed annoyingly because she knows who was on the other end.

“Good morning entle.” T’challa said softly.

“Hi” she said dryly, as she ushered him through the door and fold her arms. Her dry demeanor threw him off. She was obviously still mad at him .

“I’m sorry if I hurt you my queen. I didn’t mean to keep this from you.”

T’challa sat on the bed and looked up at his wife, like a dog that disobeyed his owner.

“ Keep the sorry ass apology! You owe it to your daughter, not me! You hid a whole child for years and you never told me anything! Do you have any idea how this is gonna make me look?”

“I did it to protect our relationship and the throne’s legacy.”

Nicolette’s blood boiled as she heard her husband chat shit out of his mouth. She felt like she didn’t know this man anymore.

“T’CHALLA DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? You abandoned a your child and harassed her mother and all you care about is a legacy?” She paced back and forth.

“You robbed your child of a relationship with you and her siblings. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“ You sit there and be a horrible father that you are, but I am going to get to the bottom of this.” Nicolette shot T’challa a nasty look before storming out the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

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

T’challa was desperately trying to win back his wife’s affection and her trust but she was not having it. He couldn’t hide Zyra forever . He knew that the day would come when he had to finally face his daughter head on and he was dreading it. It was all his fault. He was still guilty of the way he treated his daughter and her mother. ‘She would never forgive me’ He frequently thought. ‘I’m pretty sure she hates me.

Meanwhile, Queen Ramonda loaned Nicolette the late King T’chaka’s archives so she can do research on her own; watching her Youtube videos from her channel, past cheer performances, as well revisiting past photos and her contact information.

After careful deliberation, she decided to contact Zyra’s mum Raechella. She was very sceptical about calling her, cause she know how  “baby mamas” can have a negative reputation at times, but she thought it was the right thing to do. Plus Ramonda reassured her that Rae was the opposite.

Back in New York, Raechella was at work and receive a phone call from “Queen Ramonda” and quickly excused herself to answer, thinking it was an issue of high urgency. She was confused when a strange female voice responded on the other line. She introduced herself as Queen Nicolette, T’challa’s wife, and Rae was quickly on edge, bracing for a detrimental response. However, her tone seemed positive, explaining her reason for the phone call and apologising about the situation. With that, she agreed to have a sit down with Nicolette at her house.

IN NEW YORK

In a couple of days, Nicolette made an impromptu visit to New York to have this, much needed sit-down. She showed up in hopes of seeing and meeting Zyra for the first time,but was disappointed to hear that she was away in Atlanta Georgia, for a cheerleading competition. Rae welcomed her with opened arms which surprised her, because she had no idea what was about to transpire. She was also stunned by Rae’s maturity, substantial intelligence and of course her beauty. During the sit down, Nicolette was very inspired by her story- being a single mother and also being an independent working woman and bonded over motherhood. She looked through even more photos and achievements of her stepdaughter’s childhood and was in complete awe.

While they were both saying their goodbyes, Nicolette noticed something as she grabbed Rae’s hand.

“Oooo that’s a mighty gorgeous ring. Hitched?” as she giggled.

“Yes I’m engaged” Rae responded with a cheesy smile. Raechella had been recently engaged to her boyfriend Dr. Reed N’kosana, and couldn’t be happier.

“Congratulations I’m so happy for you! You deserve it!”

“Thank You so much! Take care!”

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

BACK IN WAKANDA

Nicolette and Ayo stepped out of the quinjet , and T’challa was speed walking in a distance, trying to greet his wife.

“My love how was your trip?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nicolette said harshly, as she ignored her husband’s attempt of affection and headed into the palace.

--------------------------END OF FLASHBACK-----------------

Ndicela uphinde - please say that again

Umntwana - child

Umazala - mother-in-law

Entle - beautiful

** HEY GUYS SORRY  IF THIS SUCKED. BUT IF YOU DO LIKE IT, BE SURE TO REBLOG AND COMMENT. YOUR FEEDBACK MEANS ALOT! - LANNA xx :)

Taglist: @mxrvelous-bxrnes @melaninjoys @champagnesugamama @ginghampearlsnsweettea @kida114 @brianabreeze @royallyprincesslilly @kumkaniudaku @dramaqueenamby @mbakus-bae @killmongersmistress @theifandbegger @sarahboseman @randomassfandomwho @queennanayaa @jadesid @deansbbysblog @pananegra @sisterwifeudaku @skysynclair19 

[changji]

Wow you really went off the other day but at least it was worth it 😪 I normally look at the scenery when I’m on a road trip, but then I get bored of it and decide to sleep bc there’s nothing else to do. Motion sickness must suck :(( do you take gravol or something to help with it? Coffee literally drains the life out of my funds it hurts me

Yes omg pls make me cookies I love them. Maybe you can even open a bakery with pastries and sell some good /cheap/ coffee. Ilyt my dear baker 🥺 ye I’m not the biggest fan of my bday either but gotta celebrate anyway!! One year closer to death woohoo 🎉🎉 your birthday is the most important day of the year!!! You can’t fight me on this I’m right

Pearls are so good. Like most places I go to don’t add anything to the pearls so it’s just bland squishy balls but the place I frequent adds I think honey to sweeten them. It gives the pearls life istg. It tastes so good 🤤 hollering is a funny word. For some reason I always associate it with yodelling which makes me laugh

Ksks you must be op if you can make a joke in the wall with a door slam. I can’t relate my arms are literally sticks and I have no strength in me. Chrome books are terrible in general. Add my schools terrible wifi and you get one big recipe for disaster. I’d never fight u either (unless it’s for your bday) ily too much for that 🥺🥺🥺

Hahah I think it’s me. I haven’t heard anyone say “go ham” except for the people who go to my school. I find it really funny tho so I try to incorporate it whenever I can LOL easily burnt? Can’t relate but apparently I easily tan. There’s this one diagonal stripe on my shoulder that separates pale me and tan me which ??? How did that happen and what was I wearing for that to happen??

It’s all fun and games until you go outside and see a mountain of snow waiting for you to be shovelled. But there are some good aspects to winter, like skating and skiing and all that fun stuff. Snow is so heavy?? Or maybe I’m just weak but after I finish shovelling I’m beat. Gardening is not my thing. There’s too many bugs involved flying around 🥴

Kind of? I always thought it was short for cappuccino but I could be wrong. They don’t taste like fraps tho, they’re sm better. I was always a frap hoe until I discovered lattes. My old elementary school was close to a Starbucks so whenever frappy hour was happening, my friends and I would go almost every day LOL

I heard that dunkin coffee is really good. Oof there’s so many things that the us have that Canada doesn’t. But apparently you guys don’t have ketchup chips?? How can one live without them? You know that’s what soulmates are, we’re stuck together forever and I don’t mind that. I’d never leave you 😌😌

YES OMG LATTES ARE SO EXPENSIVE. I pay around the same amount and my wallet cries every time. If you ever yeet yourself off a bridge I’d come visit u in hell and bring u iced coffee 💖 we really are soulmates wtf I get almond milk in my lattes as well!! I used to get normal milk and was like “I’m a bad bitch milk can’t hurt me” but that didn’t really work out. Sigh what we do for coffee 😔

Washing dishes is disgusting. I hate doing them but yk someone’s gotta do it and that someone is me 😤 I’m acc lazy when it comes to smoothies, I usually ask my mom to make them LMAO. Pancakes are pretty much made of flour if you think about it so technically when u eat one plain ur eating cooked flour,, how barbaric. Waffles are Built. Like. They have a 20 pack 😪😪

I love angst personally so pls go ham but not too ham I’d like to keep my heart. Honestly at this point my last brain cell has given up on me. But yes I love angst and I love torturing myself with heart wrenching angst that leaves me crying into my pillow at 3am (I’m talking about this one haikyuu fic that I forgot the name of. I was literally dying inside jalsjwo)

Pls do send me peet’s I’ll send you an iced capp in a cooler so it’ll be somewhat melted and probably spilt everywhere 🤪 tumblrs probably gonna block me again, I’m looking at how much I’ve typed rn and it’s a lot lmaoo. Yes I managed to save myself. I redid the whole last with less detail bc I was not Having It but it turned out better?? How is ur drawing now?

I start after labour day in September. But starting in 3 weeks?????? On a Thursday?? I could never wtf. When do you end? I’m so confused with these ap and honours thing, like there’s none offered in my school nor majority of the school district. Are they just advanced classes or something? It is 7 classes a semester or the whole year?

Stan talent i think you meant yourself??? Jsjsksk I am not only ur coffee soulmate I’m not #1 fan as well and I support u bc ily 🥺🥺 the read more tag had me laughing for a hot minute. Like we really could make an essay out of all of our replies. I don’t have any pets (besides fish does that count?) unfortunately bc my moms allergic to fur 🥺 hbu?? (I can’t believe tumblr blocked me again they can fight me)

-

i didn’t even pay LOL i freeloaded off my cousin 🤧 i like to look @ scenery sometimes but like i can’t bc my head hurts LOL and the scenery is always the same for me, mountains and fields with cows. i try to take dramamine but it makes me so drowsy that i’m just basically dead,,, i live off of my cousins money so i’m okay 🤪

tbh i use nestle toll house pre made cookie dough, like that shit actually slaps. it’s the best it’s so good omg, perfect for lazy hoes 🤧 death here we go ! the order is ur bday, then skz debut date, and then christmas i don’t make the rules sorry sis 😤

pearls are Dangerous, i once drank a smoothie and there were pearls in it and i couldn’t see them bc there were like. only 3 and they were Buried under the smoothie but i choked and almost died but i chewed one of them and it’s like. so weird. HOLLERING AND YODELING IM- i once went to some public yodeling class and left in 2 seconds bc it was a bunch of white boys dressed like the kid from walmart 😪

it’s not even strength i’m actually rly weak,, i always think the doors are closed but they’re not and so i like slam them open and the walls are thin so it’s just. a sad hole. terrible wifi,, my school has pretty good wifi tbh but we have like three connections, one for the chrome books only, one for the teachers & staff, and one for students and guests. like it works rly good but everyone has a VPN bc of stupid social media restrictions 😤 & ilyt 🥺 u would probably win in a fight tho LOL

go ham is so interesting. the first time i heard it i thought it meant go pig and i was so confused but ig,,, i live lathered in sun screen whenever i go somewhere with the sun. ppl are like “i smell sun screen” and im just there like 🙃 it’s me u got a problem u burnt chicken nugget ??? i wish i tanned easily, i have a tan friend and when i showed her when my legs got tan she was so confused. i thought i was tan tho? bc during marching band season my sock tan becomes So Bad i’m basically white. she said she was blinded when she saw me pull my sock down and i laughed so hard LOL & i hate those dumb random tan lines like. where u @ bro? where u come from??

snow is fun for like a day and then i get tired LOL i csn only handle wet socks and a red nose for so long 😔 i tried skiing one time and i did so bad that the instructor had to hold me down and walk with me down the slope. i fell so many times i think he hated me 😳 i’m also rly bad at skating? i went w my friends once and i held both of their hands and still managed to bring both of them down when i fell. a cute guy once helped me when i was struggling to walk so 🥴 not my brightest moment tbh,, trying to walk in skates while on ice. do u enjoy skiing/skating? also gardening is. gross. worms and dirt and the sun i’m not here for it.

u: cappuccinos! me: ...ice bergs,,, now that i think about it fraps kinda suck,,, i used to think i was So Cool for drinking starbucks but now i’m like. wow. i used to think there was coffee in a frap but it’s just. sugar and ice LOL also speaking of tmrw is bogo fraps here,, idk if it’s all over the world but myb u should check it out 😪

dunkins okay it depends on what you get, i once got an iced latte and it was good but my dad got an iced coffee and he like. hated it so we had to switch and it was so bad like. it was coffee crime. it was horrible and not strong it was basically milk 😤 also,, ketchup chip? i just googled what that was and. that’s literally so weird. fun fact i hate ketchup and all other condiments i can only eat bbq sauce and i tolerate steak sauce

UR LITERALLY SO CUTE OKAY UR MINE NOW HHHH

i mentioned this in the other ask but. we going broke bitches club 😪 when u come visit me it’ll be old town road the one w mason ramsey on a loop. nothing will top the og remix but no, i’ll be stuck listening to some 5 year old rap for all of eternity

I USED TO BE SUCH A GOOD KID AND DRINK MILK EVERY MORNING ever since i got to middle school i preferred sleep over waffles and milk and i hardly drink milk but when i do. my stomach does not have it.

my mom made me wash dishes today and she just stared at me when i put ziploc bags on my hands bc we didn’t have gloves but i just painted my nails and i’m not abt to put myself thru chipped nails. not yet 😤 waffles are so good like i love waffles and lattes only 🤧

well i’ll go very ham (am i doing it right LOL) 😤 the angst ending is a lot better than the open ended or happy ones LOL i’m so excited for it 🥺 i’m rly tryna get it out before the end of this month bc the edit says july and it’ll make me Mad if i don’t get it out before the end of this month

i wanna start in september 🤧 and i usually end in the first week of june. also on a wednesday LOL it’s gross. stupid. ap means advanced placement so it’s just. a college level class. lowkey mad bc i’m taking ap euro (as a sophomore 😒) and other schools take it in their senior years? apparently this is normal? and honors are just faster paced classes with more weighting so,, idrk oops 😬 some people take 7 classes in a semester but i took it for the whole year! this year i’m dropping orchestra i’m Not for that spit in the carpet life

the only talent in this house goes by ada and jisung. i don’t make the rules. i’m ur #1 fan 🥺 as soon as u post anything i automatically smash that rb button LOL also put a read more here bc like. we’re really out here writing a whole ass essay. i’ll look @ all our convos bet it’ll be like. a lot. i don’t wanna say smth and be off so i’ll just not. i have a dog! he’s the cutest in the world and i love him sm 🥺 tumblr can fight me first like. what’s this ask limit bull hhhhh

[aro-aizawa]

hell yeah another tag game

tagged by the awesome @highabovethecloudssomewhere thnx for the tag i love these. anyways let’s get on w it!!

Rules: Answer these questions and tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better!

Nickname(s): none! apparently i’m boring and the name i chose for myself doesn’t tend to have many nicknames that you can make with it lol so i just get everyone to call my by my first name; danni

Height: i haven’t measured myself since i was like eighteen or something but i think i was 5′ 7″ but i’m not actually sure because fun fact when i was 12 i had no real concept of height and measurements (i’m only slightly better now) so i just picked a random number that seemed about average and said i was 5′ 7″ when i was realistically more like 5′ 2″ or smth. BUT ironically enough, i stayed at 5′ 7″ for a year or two maybe more so uh weird predictive shit there. 

Time: currently it is 6:10pm!

Favourite Band/Artist: hhhhhhh this is impossible bc i don’t actually have one. i mean i do quite like a bunch of fall out boy songs but not enough to really say that they’re my favourite? my favourite genre though is soundtracks bc i really love listening to many different soundtracks, whether they’re from games, tv shows, movies or whatever.

Song stuck in my head: i was gonna say nothing but then i remembered that i’ve been trying to figure out what the song was in this video for the past few hours and it’s been driving me nuts because i only know the beat. if any of y’all know, then pls let me know im desperate.

Last Movie I watched: pirates of the caribbean: curse of the black pearl!! i love the film series, i did intend to marathon the whole thing but i got too restless lmao

Last thing I Googled: i can’t remember but it was most likely me double checking if i spelled a word right or not

Other Blogs: @honey-sim-cc which is my sims blog where i reblog custom content that i’ve been neglecting for a while and @pathetichoney which is my art blog that i’ve also been neglecting for a while.

Do I get Asks: incredibly rarely. i always get super happy whenever i get asks but i get one maybe once a month or two. maybe less.

Why I chose this username: i don’t think i can remember exactly why anymore. i think it was because i was having a phase where my favourite animal were mice. and i’d uncovered the term “-ling” which when added to something would mean the qualities of it. and so “mouseling” would mean the qualities of a mouse. and i was pretty shy, but one day i realised that 4 out of 5 letters of mouse are on the end of anonymous. thus, when you combine “anonymous” and “mouseling” you get “anonymouseling” which was unique enough that no one else had it. and thus, i’ve continued to use it as my main username ever since. wow long story.

Following: 136! though most of those accounts are inactive i think, but my dash is pretty quite in general. 

Average amount of sleep: god uh my average is probably around 5-7 hours? in an average week, because unfortunately most of the time when i first wake up i can’t really roll over and fall back asleep. sometimes i can and i end up sleeping up to 10 hours but yeah. most of the time anywhere between 5 and 7 hours.

What am I wearing: pj botttoms, fuzzy socks, soft t-shirt and warm expensive zip up hoodie my dad bought me before i cut him out my life. it’s my comfortable ‘no one is seeing me today so i who cares what i look like’ clothes. 

Lucky number: 13! bc i love going against superstitions. 

Dream job: if i was at a point where i wouldn’t burn out easily, i’d say author. or if i had the talent, i’d say animator or comic creator.

Dream trip: me and my friends go to orlando, florida during late summer. we stay on the strip in a nice hotel for the most part and move to a disney hotel for a few days. we have all expenses paid food, entry to everywhere and one of us drives. we go to every theme park, every stupid attraction, and we eat at most of the restaurants on the strip. some days we’d just chill by the hotel pool being super lazy and dozing off under the sun. we’d call each other over if we spot some cute lizards, and during the evenings we’d play at one of the many mini golf courses available. 

Favourite food: i really love yakisoba. but i also adore cucumber maki sushi. 

Play any instruments: nope!! at one point i was learning to play the guitar but i gave up after 2/3 weeks because my friend bullied me out of it.

Languages you speak: just english unfortunately. 

Hair colour: it’s meant to be a dark blue but it’s more like black nowadays honestly. my natural hair colour is a dark/medium brown though.

Eye colour: pale blue! in some lights they look grey, but in some lights they look really blue.

Random Fact: oh man i wasted my most interesting fact on the height section. uhhhh? oh yeah, before i changed my name, i used to have two middle names. and now i have none. my dad chose my first name, my second middle name and i got his surname. my mum chose my first middle name, rose. when i changed my name, i picked my own first name but i decided that i’d always hated my first name, first middle name and my surname so i got rid of all those. i always loved my second middle name so i kept it and made it my surname. 

basically, i got rid of all the names my dad gave me because i always hated them, kept the one my mum gave me and made up the first. 

[stylesdimplefeelings]

Day 4 of Blogmas

Y/N is a very difficult person to shop for. With Christmas around the corner, Harry enlists Niall to be his elf and help him find out what his best friend’s heart desires.

Or

Santa’s Irish Helper 

•Written by Sarah @harrywavycurly

**** Harry was working on his third lap around the department store, to say he was having a bit of trouble finding the perfect gift for you was a major understatement. He would find things that would make him think of you but then he would wonder if you’d like it or think he was weird for thinking of you when he saw it. So as an absolute last resort he was left with no choice but to call him.

“So ya need help finding da perfect gift do ya?” Niall’s voice was full of pride, he loved the fact Harry had to call him and ask for help.

“Oh just come help me ya dick.” With that Niall agreed and they both hung up.

Harry was browsing the jewelry section thinking maybe something shiny would be the way to go, when he felt a hand land on his shoulder.

“Oh she doesn’t like pearls mate, she’s not a sixty year old nan.” Harry rolled his eyes as Niall’s thick Irish accent filled his ears.

Harry smiled at the saleswomen who was working as the two of them walked passed the diamond jewelry display. Niall took Harry up a level towards the shoe department causing Harry to raise an eyebrow at him when he walked straight towards the boot section.

“Shoes? You think she would like shoes?” Harry was rubbing the back of his neck as he followed Niall who seemed to be on a search for something specific.

“Not just any pair of shoes, she showed me dis Ah ha!” Niall rushed over to a boot display and grabbed a pair of black leather booties with studs on the heel. “Dis is da boot, she even circled it in da catalog.” Harry grabbed the boot out of Niall’s hand and gave it a once over.

“She wants these? Bit edgy for her tho yeah?” Harry asked as he looked at the other boots in the display, he reached over and picked up a simple solid leather boot.

“Maybe she wants something different? Ya know chicks an der shoes, always need a certain shoe fo a specific outfit or somethin.” Harry just nodded in agreement as he placed the simpler boot back on the display.

“Okay so these and what else? I can’t jus get her one gift.” Niall rolled his eyes as he watched Harry place the boot on the counter before telling the man what size he needed the boot in.

“Maybe a nice little handbag or somethin?” Harry just grabbed the bag that held the pair of boots before heading towards the handbag section. Niall was quick to follow after him, he saw Harry head towards the wallets causing Niall to roll his eyes.

“She doesn’t need a wallet mate. Get er something she can wear to yer show in New York next year. Know she’s been anxious bout dat since ya asked er to go wit ya.” Harry looked at Niall who just shrugged as he watched Harry run a hand through his short hair.

“I’ve got jus tha thing. She’s been trying to steal mine since i got it, figured she’d like her own.” Niall raised an eyebrow as he watched Harry make his way towards the elevators. Niall was soon next to him as he pressed the up bottom and when Harry turned and shot Niall a little smirk all Niall could do was furrow his brows.

Soon the two of them were stepping into the elevator and Harry was pressing the top floor. Niall couldn’t help but wonder why they were headed to the floor that held all the top name brands, you never were one to wear name brands.

“What we doin in dis section Harry?” Harry just ignored the question as he searched for the brand he needed. Niall watched as Harry’s face lit up and soon his long legs were headed in the direction of a sign that read “Raf Simons.”

“She’s gonna flip out when she sees we can be matching.” Harry’s voice was full of happiness as he found the jumper he was looking for. He quickly picked the right size and headed for the checkout. Niall looked over Harry’s shoulder and felt his eyes get wide when the sales associate told him the total before Harry handed her his card.

“No she’s gonna bloody flip shit when she sees da price tag on dis fuckin jumper tha looks like my nan could’ve made it.” Harry rolled his eyes as he smiled at the sales woman as she handed him the bag along with his card back.

“She won’t know the price.” Harry shot Niall a glare causing Niall to just roll his eyes. “She will just see that i notice what she likes and then we can take photos in front of tha tree in our matching jumpers with tha cats.” Niall couldn’t help but laugh as Harry got a big dimpled grin on his face.

“I’m not takin no silly pictures of you two in front of da tree.” Harry just rolled his eyes as the two of them headed for the elevators once again.

“Thanks Niall for helping me, she’s a bit tricky to buy for.” Niall just nodded and smiled as he quickly wrapped his arms around Harry for a quick hug.

“Anytime mate, don’t feel bad she called me last week ta help her fo your gift as well.” Harry felt his eyes get wide as Niall laughed as he turned on his heel and headed towards where he parked his car. Harry was left standing there with his shopping bags and a shocked expression on his face.

There was one thing that mattered at the end of the day Harry realized as he made his way towards his SUV was that he got you things he’d know you’d enjoy. The boots he now knows you had been eyeballing for awhile, the jumper he had seen you sneaking off with from his flat for a few months so he couldn’t wait for you to have one of your very own. Harry knew you’d have that giant smile on your face when you opened his gifts, the same smile that made his heart beat a little faster. This being your first Christmas together he couldn’t wait to make it one the two of you’d never forget.

When you saw Harry walk through the door holding shopping bags you immediately closed the book you were reading and stood up from the couch. Harry saw you and quickly headed towards the bedroom and when you tried to follow him he just turned on his heel so he was facing you while holding the bags behind his back.

“Need somethin love?” Harry was giving you a little smirk as you tried to look behind his back only causing him to chuckle as he moved the bags to one hand. “Trying to sneak a little peek? That’s how you get on tha naughty list love.” You rolled your eyes as Harry quickly leaned down and placed a kiss to your cheek.

“Who did you get gifts for? Everyone is checked off the list.” You saw Harry just shrug before turning and walking into the bedroom. He quickly put the bags on the top shelf of the walk in closet, a place he knew you wouldn’t be able to reach in case you were feeling extra sneaky. You decided to just let it go and hold off until Christmas Day to see who Harry had bought the extra presents for.

“Ah looks like we have a few sneaky little gifts back here.” You were surrounded by wrapping paper and had a bow on top of your head as Harry reached around the tree and grabbed two neatly wrapped gifts.

“Harry...” You watched Harry place the two boxes in front of you with a giant grin on his face as the little bow you had stuck on the top of his head started to slide towards the side of his head.

“Don’t look at me, Santa must really like you my love.” Harry motioned towards the gifts and you just rolled your eyes as you began opening the first box.

You felt a smile grow on your face as you lifted the lid of the shoe box and saw the perfect pair of black leather booties. You looked at Harry as you gently picked up the boot and ran your fingers over the studs. Harry just smiled as you placed the boot back in the box and placed the lid on top before moving the second box onto your lap.

Harry watched with joy as your face lit up as you opened the box that held the same jumper you’d been trying to steal of Harry’s. You picked it up and hugged it to your chest as Harry quickly got up and ran off to the bedroom.

“Now we match.” You looked up and when Harry walked into the living room in the same jumper as the one you held in your hands you couldn’t help but giggle. You quickly slipped the soft jumper over your head and stood up, Harry walked over and stood next You in front of the Christmas tree.

“We are the cutest.” You stated as Harry pulled out his phone and snapped a quick picture. You wrapped your arms around Harry’s middle as his arm went over your shoulders so he could bring you closer. You felt his lips on the top of your head causing you to smile.

“Best Christmas ever.” You smiled as Harry whispered in your ear, you couldn’t help but agree that this Christmas hands down had been one of your favorites and the fact this Christmas involved Harry just added to it.

[chickenfetus]

ALL!!!! (also the gemini sqUAD LOL)

im gonna enjoy a nice cup of water while doing this bc idk a tea (update i didnt drink water at all and now im dying of thirst,, also undercut bc many)

1: Golden mornings or peachy sunsets?

i dont wake up early enough to see the sunrise and when i do i never manage to take pics bc of school so peachy sunsets

2: Sugar cones or waffle cones?

idk what a sugar cone is but i like waffle cones!!! havent eaten ice cream with a cone in forever though,, i rarely eat ice cream now

3: Do you wear scarves often? do you have a favorite?

listen…. its about 33 degrees everyday but even if im in a colder country i dont wear scarves

4: How long do you lay in bed before you finally get up?

this depends?? on how motivated im feeling lmao never more than 10 minutes though because if i lay awake for that long ill just fall back asleep

5: Is there a food you’ve never had but always wanted to try?

i dont think so?? im bad at trying new things especially food

6: What does your umbrella look like?

i dont.. go outside often and whenever i do i take public transport so basically everythings sheltered so i never had a need for umbrellas

7: Do you listen to ASMR?

ive only listened to one everybody please listen to this gift

8: Rain storms or a light drizzle?

both, preferably when im indoors

9: What’s a little thing in life that you love?

hm??????????? my tags lmao 

UPDATE: i also really like reading other people’s tags and their rambles that is all

10: Favorite color aesthetic?

does the word aesthetic make this question any different from a normal favourite colour question???? if it doesnt then sky blue 

11: Wobbly lines or using a ruler?

in this house we draw lines with no ruler like men (but also because even if i did use a ruler it wouldnt be like… straight idk i cant use rulers

12:  Bright colorful living room or neutral cozy living room?

neutral cozy living room but i also love basking in sunlight 

13: Do you have any candles? what scents are they?

im not a big fan of heavy smelling products so i dont own any candles

14: Have you ever rode a horse?

i dont think so??????? ive seen horses before though

15: Do you have glasses?

without my glasses i wouldnt be able to read these questions lmao and . .. theyre also a result of watching pokemon too closely to the tv at a young age… its been like 10 years since i got glasses

16: What’s a language you’d like to speak?

japanese i tried speaking it but i got 2 embarrassed to say anything properly while i was in japan (i cant even speak english properly to a friend whyd i think i could speak another language to a stranger beats me) 

17: What’s your favorite season and favorite month in that season?

my singaporean no season ass: ? but autumn and november (is this cutting it too close to winter? idk my seasons)

18: Do you have a favorite pair of socks?

hm not really i just wear blue ankle socks a lot but my friend did give me a pair of pokemon and gudetama socks before and i adore those although i lost the gudetama ones in the uk last year she got me another pair whatd i do to deserve her?

19: Favorite Ghibli and/or disney movie

m .. um? big. hero 6?????? 

20: Disney, Dreamworks, or Pixar?

my dumb ass didnt know they were different

21: What snacks do you usually get at the theater?

i rarely go and watch movies anymore but when i did watch a lot of movies with my friend at the theater we’d get afternoon shows and sneak mcdonalds in lmao

22: What’s an underrated video game/ movie/ show you love and think it needs more recognition?

how about band? day6 i only ever play pokemon + sif + bandori so i cant say much and i rarely watch movies and a show? if its an anime id say the one i mentioned before in my one text post 

23: Would you fill your house with plants if you had a green thumb?

not really rip 

24; All plants are great but do you have a favorite?

HM mmmmmm there was this one but i forgot the name lmao pass

25: Do you have a favorite type of art style? (eg: soft looking, no to little color, sketches, crisp and clean, minimalist, pixel art etc.)

when im the … audience? what do u call it???? i like seeing all kinda of art styles!!! everyone has their own unique art style and i love it all :o

for ME,, , ive been doing art for 6 years maybe and i still cant do shit

26: What would you do if someone gave you flowers?

i would die straight up die thats such a soft concept i cant imagine myself receiving flowers thats 2 sweet oh my god wtf id combust??? i prefer leaves though is that weird i picked some nice leaves recently and im gonna give those to my friends

27: Do you like nicknames?

giving and having nicknames is my favorite past time

28: Do you still watch shows you watched when you were a kid? even from time to time?

pokemon lmao thank u 4 not ending it…. the animation has only improved and im so proud to have been watching it since the start pokemon is my special thing i love it so much!! an interest that never died down, with an anime that stays super like idk to my preference? i tried watching the new digimon stuff but i just couldnt :^( im glad they made ash stay the main character 

29: Do you still like old memes? (tell the truth)

never forget dat boi

30: Favorite Halloween costume you dressed up as? (if you don’t celebrate halloween have you ever cosplayed or would you like to? who did you cosplay as?)

we dont celebrate halloween and i would never cosplay, big shoutout to cosplayers though!!! they put in so much effort and just, respect!!!!! 

i dont know if this is an actual memory because i dont remember well but when i was younger i thiNK? i had to dress up as a swan thing i have no clue i dont even remember the performance but i might have had to ?? and dance??? or act i dont remember everythings fuzzy but i dressed up a swan once? in kindergarten ????? 

31:  Are you a fashionable person?

i have the worst fashion sense and even though jeans are nice once again the weather here doesnt allow me to be as fashionable as i can be

32: Do you like watching holiday movies?

not realyyy??? the jack frost (rip) movie was ncie????

33:  Cookies or brownies?

i live 4 chocolate chip cookies but too much is . . not preferable

34: Do you blow in the cold air just to see your breath?

no i hate breathing in & out from my mouth

35: Do you find the crickets chirping outside your window relaxing?

WELL from the great cockroach ordeal last night id probably die bc we live in an apartment building so the only way id be hearing crickets would be if they were in the ROOM 

36: Do you like cobblestone streets?

my only knowledge of cobblestone is from minecraft so idk

37:  How often do you doodle?

when school was still relevant i would doodle as soon as i picked up a pencil lmao i try not to anymore bc i doodled on my math assignment and forgot to fucking erase it and my math teacher called me out

38: When was the last time you blew bubbles?

a year ago?? i dont remember but i do remember when i was younger id try and blow bubbles at the void deck do yall kno what that is its just a space near the lift lobby anyway i swallowed the soap thing idk u know how ur supposed to blow? well i sucked the soap in yum

39: What’s your favorite random piece of decor in your house and room?

in my room its the bed and in the house its the water bottle that contains water

40: Do you bite your fingernails off or clip them more often?

i………………………… i dont actualy kno how to clip my nails and my mum would kill me if i tried but i dont bite my nails either

41: Any birthmarks?

not that i know of

42: Thoughts on freckles?

ive never actually seen someone with freckles in public before but theyre good stuff i gueess?? i dont actually have an opinion on them? everyone says theyre cute and all but im just ??? not that i hate freckles tho if u have freckles? thats cool! 

43: First video game you ever played?

pokemon pearl?? either that or megaman on my ps3 OR the bomb square guy????? idk the game name but.. ya

44: what type of bird do you hear most often outside your door?

i dont know what the bird species are but theyre small black birds not crows idk

45: Do you use gifs/ memes a lot when replying to people?

memes yes gifs no bc im not lame like jen

46: Thoughts on spring?

no comment?? i mean? its nice??????? i guess ??? if we had a spring

47: Ideal temperature outside?

oh boy 20 degrees would be enough for me but its never gotten that low before sunny island’s life

48: Cloudy, partly cloudy, or clear skies?

i like clear skies when its bright! but not too sunny and not too warm!!!!! clouds are nice to look at too though

49: How often do you hear airplanes outside?

yeah we live near an airport i dont think anybody uses????

50: Do you enjoy windy days?

windy days are my SHIT back in school our basketball court was open spaced and whenevr wind blew we could feel it man thats the life right there but i hate windy days when im sitting at home bc it flows the curtains rigth into my face i like the feel of the wind and the smell of fresh air but… curtains in my face? not 2 great so rip i close all the windows lmao

okay thank u so much 4 asking falen i love you and wow this was a lot

[brownthrussy]

Hey I saw your tags, & I was just wondering what is racist in su & gf? I'm just genuinely curious!

Well first of all sorry about the late reply i've been pretty busy! Second of all this might be a pointless reply, considering these fandoms, but fuck it. Stevies university and its fandom loves to preach itself as being diverse and woke yet does the same stuff that other fandoms do. Remember when Garnet or Amethyst got an arc for themselves? Me neither. Literally they're both "fusion" and the "fat friend" at this point. Both get little to no development for themselves which becomes ridiculous when theres been an interesting amount of focus and detail concerning Pearl. The Sardonyx arc, you know the arc which should have shown that Garnet is allowed to show that she can be vulnerable and that hurting others has consequences, was established as a Pearl arc. Literally it focused on the one that caused said problem instead of the one that got hurt when it shouldve focused on both atleast. Its also interesting how Garnet was stoic and silent when she was Darker in season 1 yet after her immediate regeneration in the end of the season she becomes lighter and more open. It probably wasnt intentional, considering Garnet got some growth by the season to become more open since Stevie met her halves, but its a tiring trope or "Stoic black woman finally gets to have a personality out of being serious and strong" which lasted a season. By season 3 shes literally the fusion friend. Aka the only episodes where she gets some focus are concerning fusion, which isnt wrong considering she is one, but it gets ridiculous not giving her anything else to work for. Amethyst was used as a "self hate" trope, which was great initially however it got repetitive and nothing was truly done. Remember season 3 when Amethyst was like "i hate myself thx Jasper" and Stevie was like "i hate myself too ok" and had a episode dedicated to it. It didnt seem necessary to have a competition on who hates themselves more when they could've, oh i dont know, learn and show compassion to one another as well as understanding each others. While it isnt exactly racism, i just dislike how the emotions in this show is just cry cry and we never mention it ever again. "Bismuth" was a display of "angry black woman' considering Bismuth wanted to kill a dictator and Stevie was like "b-hut th' hat'll make us just as bad l1ke them!!!1" and then Bismuth got poofed for wanting to kill dictators cause she was black and mean :// i get the whole "she tried to kill stevie" she thought he was rose and before anyone says "still murder tho" well ya faves Pearl Lapis and Peridot did the same shit too while the big bad butches Bismuth and Jasper suffer forever :). "Earthings" was a favorite of mine but I thought it used Smoky Quartz at the wrong time. Like the episode literally says that Amethyst could never beat Jasper no matter how she tries which really wasnt a good lesson tbh "hard work doesnt pay off, genetics does!!". Smoky was formed from a emotional bond which was nice but i thought it wouldve been better if Amethyst had accepted stevies help and that they could be fucks up together and said fusion would happen naturally instead of using fusion as just "wow we cant do shit on our owns :/// thanks rock genetics". The rubies literally got left in space to die when they were so easy to dispatch and Steven pulled the "i wanted to help eyeball" while he left the other 4 rubies to die instead of giving them a chance since wow they're??? Their own gems and deserve a chance. Said fandom demonized Navy and called her a sociopath for gaining Stevie's and the barn lesbians trust and taking the ship. These were some detailed reasons why the fandom and show seem hypocritical when they pull their "we care about diveristy but we aint gonna bother showing it" aka if youre not white coded rip you. Connie and Lars' heritage? Not necessary since theyre not white lol. Lars got a confirmed race like 4 episodes before he became pink so if we hadn't seen him before he got pink then we wouldve never known since he wouldnt look like a poc and he doesnt talk about his heritage so he wouldnt sound like one either. The fandom was also like "omgggg look at this one pic of Connie's mom wearing Indian clothes" while refusing the claim that we dont need to hear about anyone's heritage since it isn't "realistic" for POC to talk about it. Interestingly, most white fans say this claim hmm. Blue Diamond had some concerns syrrounding whitewashing, which appears to be due to lighting/ not official design. The problem was that BD was shown to be crueler in Season 2 when she was going to kill Ruby for doing her job. Yet by her official appearance she's neon, looks white despite the Indian asthethic vibe displayed on "The Return" and her display on the Moon, and sad cause her co-worker/ gf died or some shit despite Becky Sugar saying that BD was supposed to be a representation of homophobia. A stupid trope where the homophobe was just a closeted gay. She also became so sad and gay that the fandom woobified her to being a innocent gem despite being a dictator, trying to murder a main character, owning a human zoo. The show also made her cry like 99% to make you feel sad for her cause oh no how dare our white saviour Rose Quartz murder a dictator. This also brought a stupid belief of Steven that "the diamonds woildnt be here if it wasnt for my mom !!! Fuck her" considering killing PD looks like it was the only good thing Rose has done and like out of all the things steven has a right to be mad about it was about his mom killing a dictator??? Also Amethyst's and a Gem named Concrete had their own racist beta designs. Amethyst had a chola design and Concrete, a literal black coded gem that couldnt read (an advanced alien species and the only one that cant read is the black gem?),were displayed on the art books because the crewniverse doesnt really consider the racism that theyve displayed for children to see. This show has a lot of problems and its still good, could be a whole lot better if some issues were addressed, but considering the writers and fandom refuse to address any criticism by using the "its a show for kids!!!1) says the 30 year old white gay on tunglr. Org who praises stevies university for being woke!!1 and having a gay couple. Jeez this got long but I just think its hypocritical that everyone praises this show for barely doing the bare minimum yet refuses to address any problems.While I havent watched the whole show, Gravity falls has displayed a lack of POC in their whole show. While it is a small city, it became interesting that a lot of POC were in prison.

[ladyloveandjustice]

The Great Ace Attorney Replay: Trials and Tribulations, Case 5, the final part

Phoenix and Miles meet and Miles basically gives him a motivational speech

“U GOTTA FIGHT WRIGHT!!!” 

And Phoenix is all “YEAH U DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME!!!!”

“I KNOW U CAN DO IT U HAVE THAT LOOK IN YOUR EYE YOU’RE GONNA DO IT”

“YEAH I’M GONNA DO IT GONNA GET THIS GUY!”

And then they double high-five in the middle of the lobby or something.

Miles:  I leave the rest in your capable hands... partner.

PARTNER IN LAW. PARTNER IN LIFE. PARTNER IN LOVE. AMIRITE.

I dunno how chatty I’ll be during this trial because there are only so many ways to say “I hate Godot so much”. (Note from the future- I will still be chatty).

Dahlia is so good at being passive aggressive during this whole trial. I like this heartless serial murderer so much better than u Godot.

And we finally reveal that Dahlia is in the courtroom hanging with us, not Iris

Phoenix: Did you say the plan was to kill Maya?

Dahlia: Yes? You got a problem with that?

YES DAHLIA I KNOW YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND OR LIKE FEELINGS BUT MOST PEOPLE WOULD HAVE A PROBLEM WITH SOMEONE TRYING TO KILL THEIR BESTIE.  

She insisting Maya is dead and this part:

Phoenix: Th-That's absurd! M-Maya is just... She's just trapped! Trapped inside the Sacred Cavern!

Dahlia: Really...? You're as foolishly optimistic as ever, aren't you... my darling Feenie?

Phoenix: ...!

Dahlia: Do you want to know the truth? Ever since we met... I've despised you. Your sniveling naïveté and your pathetic faith in other people.

Just always give me chills. SHE’S SO DELICIOUSLY EVIL.

I mean she’s basically going “HAHA LOOK AT YOU CARING ABOUT PEOPLE AND HAVING EMOTIONS. LOSER.”

Dahlia was super disappointed when she couldn’t take revenge on Mia from beyond the grave. OR COULD SHE? She decided to “go after the person Mia Fey loved most.”

HEY GODOT. DO YOU HEAR THAT. MAYA IS THE PERSON MIA LOVES MOST IN THE WORLD. AND YET YOU PUT HER IN DANGER FOR YOUR STUPID EGO. IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU DIDN’T REALLY LOVE MIA AND ONLY LOVE YOURSELF.

AT LEAST DAHLIA’S HONEST ABOUT HER ISSUES.

Ohh yeesh I forgot how intense this got. Dahlia tries to convince Phoenix that Maya accidentally killed her mother, then killed herself out of guilt. Phoenix is of course like “WTF NO” but you can see him starting to panic. IT IS PHOENIX’S ETERNAL CURSE TO THINK HIS LOVED ONES HAVE COMMITTED SUICIDE.

At least it only lasts two seconds this time.

Christ, both Phoenix and especially Maya need so much therapy after this case. Pearl too.

GUESS WHAT MAYA REALLY DID. GOT HER SIS’S ADVICE AND CHANNELED DAHLIA HERSELF SO DAHLIA COULDN’T KILL HER. The moment where Mia appears and is like “lol owned” will always be one of the greatest moments in Ace Attorney.

Haha I forgot how HARD Phoenix and Mia verbally eviscerate Dahlia. They tag-team it too.

Phoenix: WOW GEE THAT SURE DIDN’T WORK OUT DID IT DAHLIA. SURE GOT OWNED HARD THERE.

Mia: OF COURSE YOU MUST BE USED TO GETTING OWNED BY NOW.

Dahlia: what no shut up

Phoenix: Did that kidnapping thing- owned by Mia Fey. Tried to kill me- LOOK WHO’S STILL ALIVE, MOTHERFUCKER! AND BY SHEER DUMB LUCK THAT MAKES IT EVEN WORSE HAHA! Poisoned some other dudes- owned by Mia Fey.

Dahlia: YEAH WELL…WELL…YOU HAVE FEELINGS AND FEELINGS ARE DUMB…

Phoenix: Tried to kill Maya…owned by Mia Fey….

Dahlia: STOP LOOKING SO GODDAMN SMUG IF IT WASN’T FOR MIA FEY YOU WOULD HAVE GOTTEN EXECUTED INSTEAD OF ME. I ONLY DIED BECAUSE OF MIA FEY.

Mia: True!

Dahlia: ….

Mia: Looks like no matter what I’ll always own you. Even death cannot stop me from owning you. For all eternity you’ll be Dahlia Hawthorne: That lady who got super owned by Mia Fey

Dahlia: but HOW COULD I LOSE?

Phoenix: Hey Dahlia, guess what! Nobody gives a shit.

*Phoenix and Mia high five*

Phoenix: Now GTFO of Maya.

SO SATISFYING. EPIC HERO-VILLAIN LADY RIVALRIES ARE MY EVERYTHING and Mia and Dahlia hit my sweet spot. SUCH A PASSIONATE HATE-ON. And Phoenix getting to be spell out exactly how badly she messed up after everything she did to him and how he looked down on him for his dumb feelings-it’s the best

THIS SURE WOULD BE A GREAT WAY TO END THE CASE. BUT NO WE GOTTA DEAL WITH GODOT’S BULLSHIT.

Like seriously. He could just confess that he murdered Misty Fey RIGHT NOW and not waste everyone’s fucking time. BUT NO. Let’s drag Maya, who is completely exhausted and deeply traumatized after almost being killed and witnessing the murder of her own mother, onto the witness stand and make her relive the entire horrible experience YOU PUT HER THROUGH because you don’t give a shit about anything other than ~testing~ Phoenix.

I like that Dahlia has a backstory where you can see where her “look out for number one” and “feelings are dumb” mindset came from. Her Mom abandoned her, her dad set an example by loving no one, ditching people when they were inconvenient for him and only caring about money. You can see why she decided to do the same. It doesn’t excuse what she did obvs, but there is a logical thread to her actions beyond “she’s just a demon child” and that gives her some dimension as a character, even while being so unrepentantly evil.

Mia makes sure Nick’s realized Godot was the killer and then says she’s gonna peace out- I’m sure you could give a lot of explanations for why she recused herself from the trial indicting Godot (like her ~feelings~ ugh)- but I’m gonna  say its cuz she knew if she spent any more time in Godot’s presence she wouldn’t be able to restrain herself from running across the courtroom and beating the shit out of him for putting her little sister in danger and killing her mother for the sake of his macho revenge fantasy.

She would have been fine doing that normally, but she’s in Pearl’s body right now and she doesn’t want Pearl to suddenly wake up with a man’s blood on her hands. She’s been through enough.

��SO IT’S UP TO PHOENIX.

Godot fucking yelling at Maya not to cry after all the bullshit he put her through and the fact she wouldn’t have to even be on this stand reliving this bullshit if he just fucking owned up to what he did I HATE HIM SO MUCH.

She’s trying so hard to protect him NO MAYA IT WAS HIS FAULT THIS SHIT HAPPENED TO YOU

Like he knew Morgan has hidden the note! He found it! It was unsealed when Pearl found it! He could have just taken the note! That is literally all he had to do! That’s not all! He could have explained to Pearl why she couldn’t listen to her mother! He could have TOLD MAYA SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO KILL HER.

But nope. He just leaves to note for Pearl and lets everyone go through with this entire murder attempt because he wanted to “save Maya” and feel all manly. HE. IS. NOT. WORTH. PROTECTING.

The only good part about Maya protecting Godot is seeing her call Nick out on the holes in his logic. AND U THOUGHT U HAD IT TOUGH WITH MILES.

And also! At one point the judge says Maya will be suspected for the murder if Phoenix can’t prove it’s Godot! So he the possibility of Maya going to jail/being executed in his place literally came up and Godot STILL didn’t confess. WOW  DEEP LOVE FOR HIS BELOVED’S MOST TREASURED PERSON HE HAS THERE.

Defeating him is so satisfying at least. BLOWIN’ YOUR MASK UP.

 And in the end, even he admits he wasn’t really concerned with saving Maya…because he didn’t tell Phoenix what was going on. OKAY. OR ACTUALLY YOU COULD HAVE TOLD MAYA HERSELF. I’m not saying Nick would not have probably been more helpful to Maya’s situation than you were, because literally anyone would be, but THE BEST WAY for her not to get murdered is to tell her “HEY MORGAN FEY IS TRYING TO SUMMON SOMEONE TO MURDER YOU THROUGH PEARL, MAYBE TALK TO PEARL ABOUT THIS AND ALSO DON’T GO ANYWHERE ALONE FOR A WHILE.”

Like even after admitting he messed up and his grudge against Phoenix makes no fucking sense, he still does the exact same shit! Only men are people worthy of being told anything! Women aren’t allowed to know what’s happening to them! They don’t get to make decisions about their own lives! Only men can make decisions for them!

And he STILL makes Mia’s death about him and how he “failed to protect her”. It is just so disrespectful to her, acting like he could have somehow done something she didn’t to prevent her death when he couldn’t even protect HIMSELF from being poisoned. Mia died doing what she believed in. She knew the risks and she accomplished her goal. She was satisfied. Her death was about her, not Phoenix and definitely not YOU.

So no, I really don’t feel sorry for him, nn matter how much the game wants me to.

I’m always kinda ehhh about the reveal Iris was subbing for Dahlia. I mean it’s nice for Nick and all and it is incredibly unlikely Dahlia would have had the patience go on all those dates with Phoenix and pretend she gave a shit, she would have murdered him the first night.

But on another level it’s feels unnecessary to say “see Phoenix was right to believe in her, because he wasn’t REALLY dating Dahlia, it was Iris and she did actually care about him!” Like, Phoenix’s belief in people is a positive thing, but I think it’s more meaningful if he’s y’know, not always unfailingly correct.

Having faith in people means sometimes you can have people not worthy of that faith take advantage of it. And I think the thing with Dahlia impacted Phoenix and helped him realize he can’t just be a total doormat for people and believe in them even when shit’s clearly suspicious. This was an important lesson for Phoenix, and also something that left him with some issues. Being like “oh yeah but he was also right kind of” just kinda dilutes that.

It doesn’t RUIN it, since he still did trust someone he absolutely should not have trusted in Dahlia and the betrayal had a lasting impact on him regardless of Iris’s involvement, but it’s just like “eh” for me.

Also it comes off like they were trying to set her up as a potential love interest- obviously they didn’t actually go through with it since she is NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN after this- but egh, if they had... it doesn’t work on so many levels and I’m not just saying that because it disrupts the otp. Like first of all, she did still lie to Phoenix about who she was for months (I hope they didn’t have sex because that could. Technically be a crime on your part, Iris) and I can’t see that baggage being easy to deal with.

Also, I hate to say it, but Iris is boring. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with her, but her connection to Dahlia and the insight on her she provided is about the only thing interesting about her. Her entire personality can be summed up as “shy and nice”. Which is fine. Not every character has to be the fascinating, and she served her function in the plot. But in a series full of quirky, complex, dynamic characters, it’s kinda like. Literally anyone would have a more entertaining romantic dynamic with Phoenix.

(Not saying that Iris couldn’t have potentially been turned into a more interesting character if writers had been interested in it. There’s a lot to work with, considering her tragic past. But as it stood in the game, there’s zero spark there)

Also, judging from the people he’s closest to and spends the most time with, Nick prefers to hang around people who are the opposite of demure, who he can banter and argue with constantly. HE REALLY LIKES ARGUING. IT’S HIS CHOSEN CAREER. I think there was even an interview where the writers said Nick’s type is “someone who would boss him around”. And Iris is not that person. (And Phoenix is also way more sarcastic now than he was in college and I’m not sure if she’d be into that either.)

So yeah I’M GLAD THEY DIDN’T GO THROUGH WITH THAT basically.

I AM glad we went through with putting Godot in jail though. Mia’s just like “nope, don’t feel guilty, it’s fine, this was the best thing to do for him”. I will cling to my theory that she is super disgusted with him. U can’t take it away.

Lol at Maya deciding she’s on a first name basis with Franziska and they’re friends now and being able to make her be nice to Larry just by pouting. Thus a ship was born. They really would have had a fun dynamic I wish we could see more of it.

There’s also the part where Fran is genuinely confused with why Maya is being so cheerful in the wake of losing her parent:

Edgeworth: ...Wright. You seem to be uncharacteristically puzzled. I suspect you are wondering how Maya can be so cheerful despite all that has happened?

Phoenix: Y-Yeah...

Franziska: To be honest... I can't understand it either.

Phoenix: (Franziska... That's right... She lost her father fairly recently as well...)

So she does seem to sympathize with Maya and seem really interested in why her reaction to grief is so different from hers. when Miles and Phoenix say they get why Maya’s doing this, she DEMANDS TO KNOW. What is WITH Maya Fey, how does she work, Fran is fascinated. 

She’s learning about things she doesn’t understand and expanding her worldview thanks to Maya already and that could be another interesting bit of their relationship to explore- similar trauma, different ways of coping, they can sort of connect and learn from each other on that level.

I’ve mentioned that I really like Miles and Maya’s friendship, and this little dialogue exchange coming up is kinda the culmination of that. It’s not just that they both like the Steel Samurai, or both know Nick or anything- they actually have a pretty deep connection and weird understanding of each other. They both witnessed a parent die, they both experienced trauma connected to the DL-6 incident- Miles understands what Maya’s going through in a way Phoenix doesn’t, because Phoenix hasn’t experienced the same loss. And he sees the pain under her cheerful attitude.

Miles: I think I understand how she feels. Maya is a much wiser person than she appears, and I think she realizes something... Now is exactly the time when she needs to be as strong as she can.

Franziska; Wh-What do you mean by, "Now is exactly the time"...?

Edgeworth: Maya wasn't the only one that was badly wounded by this incident. In fact, there was someone that was hurt far more deeply than she. I believe it's for that person that Maya is trying her best not to cry.

Phoenix: (Someone who was hurt more deeply than Maya...) Edgeworth... I think I'm starting to understand, too.)

(She’s doing it for Pearl)

Phoenix: After all, the reason [Pearl] she worked so hard to follow the instructions... ...was because she loved and believed in her mother, Morgan. "It's for the good of the Fey clan"... I'm sure she believed in every last word. She thought she was doing it for Maya... That's why she was so happy. It shows how truly devoted she is to Maya.

Edgeworth: But it's a cruel irony that it was her exuberance that led to this tragedy. Maya Fey's mother was killed and Maya herself was put into the deepest peril imaginable.

Phoenix: (And that's exactly why Maya is putting on a brave face... She's doing it for Pearls's sake... Until she can see her smile again...)

I mentioned this in my last liveblog, but not only is Miles familiar with trying to be “strong” in the wake of tragedy, he also gets what Maya’s doing for Pearl because he’s sort of trying to do the same thing for Franziska right now- he’s pretty messed up over all the von Karma stuff. But he doesn’t blame Franziska for the connection she had to the person who ruined his life or for her attempts to be loyal to him. He recognizes Franziska is just as messed up over the revelations with VK and just as damaged by him, if not more so. So he’s trying to be strong and set a good example for Franziska right now, leaving the past behind and helping them both move one with their lives. And that is exactly the situation with Maya and Pearl.

So yeah, in addition to all the other things Maya and Miles have in common, they both basically have little sisters they feel responsible for and want to help and understand that about each other. ACE OLDER SIBLINGS.

Maya does indeed ace it as a big sis and manages to reassure and comfort Pearl. Her mother is gone, but Nick and Pearl are always there for her, and she loves her family.

Phoenix decided to end the trilogy with a dramatic monologue:

 "It's only natural for living creatures to fight to protect their own lives. But what makes us human is that we fight for others. But who do you fight for? How hard must you fight...? That's the true measure of what human life is worth.

CAN YOU TELL THIS BOY WAS AN ART MAJOR BECAUSE I SURE CAN/.

"We defense attorneys are warriors who are constantly challenged by that question' 

Yeah you’re a warrior champ. Whatever makes you feel cool.

"Even when the battle is over, and the bonds that connect us are severed... We always return... Time and time again. Mia, Maya, Pearl [REDACTED I HATE HIM]... I learned that... from all of them."

 I’M GLAD HE’S LEARNED THIS AMAZING WISDOM ABOUT LIFE FROM THE AWESOME FEYS  AND ABSOLUTELY NO ONE ELSE.

Gr8 anime protagonist speech Phoenix. Your heart has been made fullmetal.

NOW IT’S CREDITS TIME.

Maya: I'll really have to work extra hard now! Master of Kurain and the office manager of Wright & Co. Law Offices. And I have to be a good big sister to Pearly and Nick, too!

Other things Franziska and Maya have in common: insisting guys older than them are their “little brothers”. I love it. YOU BIG SIS THE HELL OUT OF NICK, MAYA, TEACH HIM THE WAY OF THE WORLD.

Maya: Well, as long as I'm not locked up or captured or something like that.

Sorry about ur life Maya. Things will indeed not get better for you in that respect *sigh*.

Franziska taught Adrian how to use a whip everyone must now bow down to their dom lesbian overlords.

Nick actually went with Maya to her special meditation course and did the whole thing with her AMAZING. He’s like an honorary Fey now, which is probably terrifying.

Well, that finishes the game! God this game is so weird, It would definitely be my favorite- it has a lot of great parts, I love playing it, you really get a little of everyone, but it also has to have the most SUPREMELY ANNOYING PARTS in the whole series aka Godot’s whole existence. So I can’t say for sure it’s my fave because of that. But maybe it is. I don’t know. Why’s Godot gotta complicate everything.

Anyway, next up is Apollo Justice. Which on my first playthrough, it’s my least favorite game of the current six in the main series. Let’s see if I’ll have a better opinion of it this time or stand by that assessment.

[buddyfaith]

r u still doing the prompt thing if so, franmaya, meeting the parents but ha they're dead so channeling (is this too specific im sorry)

I'm aLWAYS doing femslash the incredibly stubborn Franziska "spirit channeling isn't a thing" von Karma gets a forced wakeup call post- Bridge to the Turnabout and she thinks its so weird????? so weird.so her and Maya have exchanged shitty parent figure stories (and, well, between Manfred and the tag team of disappeared dad/disappeared mom/morgan? that's a lot)[franziska voice] my father did WHAT-[Maya voice] its okay taser scars are SICK lookMaya "everyone who's supposed to care for me either leaves dies or tries to murder me" Fey has some real baggage about her too and one day franziska slams her Heavy Book shut and she says "we had to have had a good parent between us."[Maya voice] I failed statistics but you're probably right.So they start digging through inherited, dusty boxes and old records and they see some evidence of some good times! there's pictures of tiny Fran and mama von karma! there's bound books of drawings that the teeny Fey sisters did! there's all these bits of memories everywhere and finally Maya cuts the knot [Maya voice] I'm gonna channel your mom[franziska voice] I'm gonna channel your mom![Maya voice] ....franzy.... that's not how-[franziska voice] haha! too late I already bought bus tickets.so they go to Kurain with these hastily purchased tickets and Maya levels honestly with pearl about the special someone stuff and the minute Maya breathes 'meet the moms' ACE MATCHMAKER PEARL FEY IS ON THE CASEMaya reccomends mama von karma go first because that's..... probably going to go over better. probably. and the woman shows up and she's got a really severe look in her eye until the second she spots franziska and her face splits into this smileso there's a little bit of German exchanged between them and Maya catches her name and she immediately remembers to be nervous because this is why we're doing this right??? the lady squints at Maya for about two seconds before she just laughs and laughs and laughs[maya, whispering] is she laughing at me[franziska, whispering] no she's laughing because she told my father this when I was fouranyway things go swimmingly and Maya quietly resolves to learn more about horses of all things??? franziska's mom did horse things. that's really cool. [mama von karma voice] horses are soulless creatures which is nice because I can see them all again in hell.[mama von karma voice] just kidding.Maya and mama von karma wear the same sense of humor hat and it's G R E A Tanyway pearl is tired and Maya is really happy to leave mystic misty off until another day and possibly forever but n o p e[Maya voice] can't you just meet my brother/friend figures instead?[franzy voice] One, I have met those foolish fools- one of them is my literal brother. Two, you met my dead mother and she loves you.(Maya glows a little because loves!!!)so pearl fey overflowing with spirit energy pops outta bed the next day ready 2 rumble and summon misty!!!! franziska is really nervous about it. she read all the picture books online in the middle of the night and they're really very good but she's not quite the ideal girl-next-doormisty shows up and cries.mediums have a little more temporal awareness than regular spirits and if you think misty wasn't watching her little girl fall in ~love~ you're wrong!!!! misty watched the whole thing and she smile-cries and all kinds of stuff but she's gone really quickly???(something something I don't deserve to be here something something tag out)so mia takes her place. she was also watching but she's a lot less weepy about the whole thing.[mia voice] a whip?[franziska voice] ah- I suppose[franziska internally] SHIT SHIT SHIT[mia voice] I wish I had thought of it!mia and franziska get along a lot better than one might expect and maya wastes all this panic on nothing but still[mia voice] we're really proud of you.[maya voice] me?[mia voice] and franziska too.[franziska voice] me? why?[mia voice] you know why.and then mia parts from pearls who looks no worse for wear but wonders what mystic mia said to make miss franziska cry like that!!!!!!! mystic maya channel mystic mia right now I'm gonna beat her up!!!!(but the moral of the story is there's some good stuff in the past after all I guess as long as you have basic necromancy down)

[aislesalmon]

WOW that was a DOOZIE of an episode. Finally back so I can tag spoilers.

Thoughts:

Ghghhjfofo Blue and Yellow Diamonds’ redemptions were really well done... especially Blue Diamond... and that's coming from someone who DESPERATELY wanted them to not get redeemed.

Also HEY END OF GEMPIRE. Steven really did stop their spread of terror across space, didn't he? It's going to be VERY interesting to see how Homeworld and the empire change during upcoming seasons.

BISMUTH BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF WHITE DIAMOND. That was probably the highlight of the episode.

Wait no, Peridot being an absolute badass was the highlight of the episode.

Now THIS was the fusion episode we've been waiting for! Forget Know Your Fusion, this was 4 new fusions in under 5 minutes. Plus Smoky Quartz!

- Smoky Quartz: ok, so that was about the last thing I expected to happen. It's so good to see them again, and I love them as much as ever!

- Rainbow Quartz: THIS META MOTHERFUCKER. They're everything I could've wanted and more from Steven and Pearl’s fusion, and I hope we get to see them again in the future! They may have just jumped my favorite fusion, which is surprising considering how Rainbow Quartz 1.0 is far and away my least favorite fusion.

- Sunstone: I don't think anyone could've seen this coming as Garnet and Steven’s fusion. It's not the prettiest fusion, sure, but I LOVE them, and somehow their bizarre design fits them. I doubt we’ll ever see Sunstone 1.0, but I can't wait to see fan interpretations!

-Obsidian: I can see why they waited so long to show her to us - this was the perfect time! What everyone expected the temple fusion to be: beautiful, graceful rainbow warrior clad in Ancient Greek-style clothing. Actual temple fusion: LAVA GODDESS. 

ALL THE NEW OUTFITS! Naturally right when we see Peridot and Lapis Lazuli’s new outfits - which I’d been waiting for to draw so the group thing of all the Crystal Gems I’d been working on wouldn't be out of date - we also get the main crew’s new outfits... which I’d already drawn and inked, which means my project is out of date in a way I can't fix, since there's no way I'm drawing them again as well as I did the first time. Oh, well. Peridot and Lapis Lazuli’s new outfits are with it!

There's all the action that people complained about Escapism lacking! Right where I said it would be. See, I told you.

HOLY SHIT THAT SCENE IN WHITE DIAMOND’S SHIP WAS INTENSE. With everyone else being discolored, and Steven almost fucking DYING, and his Gem screaming at White Diamond that Pink Diamond is truly gone... that would've scared the shit out of me as a kid. I love it. 

That fusion dance between Steven’s Gem half and human half was a blatant Madoka Magica reference, and I can't wait to compare gifs of them to show exactly what I mean. 

Huh, so Pink Pearl got saved... I'm impressed, I didn't think she would. There's obviously still something wrong with her, though.

I'm torn... as much as I loved White Diamond as a villain, and as much as I wanted her to remain a villain, her redemption felt so... organic. Also, she's adorable when she's flustered, so there's that. 

OH, NOW LARS SHOWS UP. We get to see the off colors in relatively normal lighting, finally! At last, we have a decent idea what their color pallets are! And the off colors’ reactions were perfect. I'm so glad they're finally home on earth - I can't wait for them to meet everyone! And I do mean everyone, because holy shit is that a lot of freshly uncorrupted Gems to introduce. Upcoming seasons are going to cost a fortune with all those new voice actors. 

Jasper’s back! ‘.w.` And aaaaaah, Amethyst is the one to comfort her and break through to her, that's just perfect. Wow does she have some catching up to do.

AND A SONG TO END THE CONFLICT GOING ON SINCE SEASON 1. I wonder what else they could possibly have in store? Homeworld’s got some big changes coming, as well as the corrupted Gems being introduced, and the zoo... there's a lot left. I guess we’ll see where it goes from here!

Also... are they just gonna let Lars keep Emerald’s ship?

[geek-gem]

I wanted to make this when I thought of this in the shower. Okay it’s funny and it makes me smile even again as I think about it. This will include some spoilers from the latest Steven Universe and also do not take it seriously cause when taking it seriously this can’t be or…it’s in a way oh God the way of just how I thought about it.

But keep in mind this is some what a parody ideas of what I feel or in a way think happens next.

So the next couple of episodes are gonna be focused on Steven finally getting to home world. Yet in some way just I wanna see how the others are Earth are like now. Not just the ones who saw Steven went yet even others like Greg, Lapis, and Peridot. But especially Lapis then the stupid joke or some shit came up man.

I seriously first imagined Lapis being told Steven’s gone to home world some what captured but he turned himself in. She’s like enraged or whatever or she takes it so seriously that she legit fly’s to home world and bring him back also destroying home world in the process Commando style Arnold Schwarzenegger in a way.

Then the best thing the one I’m thinking about its so over the top.

Their all freaking out yet they decide and some how maybe they try to fix the warp pad that goes to home world since they have no ship seriously I wonder if they would do that. But they legit decide their not holding back anymore.

In fact they legit unbubble Bismuth, and even corrupted Jasper and decide to go with Bismuth’s ways of legit killing gems. They go to home world and basically it’s the God damn scene from Predator.

The scene where Dutch played by Arnold Schwarzenegger pressed tag thing by mistake.

But that scene where they destroy the camp in the original Predator and it’s so over the top.

They are murdering home world gems left and right, whether poofing or shattering them, Garnet legit goes like, “Knock Knock” and okay maybe have other characters maybe Bismuth says, “I ain’t got time to bleed” yet that doesn’t make sense and Pearl asks her if she’s bleeding or no says, “Your bleeding man” but okay have Bismuth almost left Jasper but have Bismuth be like, “Payback time” or Lapis or just ha…..dude or Peridot saying that ha man.

They are just being legit commandos, they are so pissed off and enraged, and willing to do these things to save Steven. It’s a legit attack some what terrorist attack on home world. When they get to Steven he’s like legit horrified don’t worry Lars is okay ha man.

Please remember this is just some parody idea. Because the thought of this happening. I swear to God I feel like the rest of the episodes are gonna be crazy. Including just….this would go against no offense the themes of acceptance and pacifism is just where’s that shit man ha.

Also this would be difficult and considering the shit that…is it Aquamarine okay phone can find word ha man, the shit she can do yet you know I think Godzilla and King Ghidorah can beat that shit she does lol. Yet I feel some shots I’ve seen of Topaz might lead to some stuff lol.

I just I’m excited man. I’m interested in seeing some people’s reactions to these last two episodes ha man. I’ve seen reactions even before this a post about Topaz I guess the next episode leaked I don’t know forgot ha read a bit lol. Yet I’m not watching it man ha.

I’m sorry smiling again yet just….it’s insane. Yet I’m interested of how both sides of the story are reacting. Also this thing man ha. I’ve talked about this with my friend and I didn’t want stuff spoiled but yeah this was last week I think man ha, yet he told me it was a great bomb or good one lol man. But think it was the same day we were talking about the military in the world of Steven Universe. He had a theory that the Crystal Gems talked to them that they should not interfere cause they could get hurt ha.

Okay I’m sorry why do I want this shit to happen. The idea mainly even talking with my friend I made a joke something that I’m getting my dark and edgy Steven Universe finally and just mainly the military shit is them just maybe poofing gems and some or lots being killed and it’s basically the military I keep thinking about from Godzilla 1998 and the sarge keeps saying WE NEED BIGGER GUNS

Why do I want this shit on Adult Swim ha man lol just ha…put tag I’m scared to pit I mean lol post this or just have it tagged okay smiling twice again sorry love this shit man lol ha man lol sorry and was choosing between internet words. But God damn wanted to share this…..I’m thinking maybe more tags ha maybe not man lol

Edit lol I can't fucking take it man well looked for new Steven Universe just don't wanna put new characters in tags ha man. Yet is this the 6th bomb ha....I put Godzilla instead man ha lol....I'm sorry I love this shit