#i love how he bobs when i kissy noise at him

[pavpavlova]

Happy McFluffboy perceiving with him peepers °v°

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: VII

Sunflower, my eyes

Want you more than a melody

Let me inside

Wish I could get to know you

Sunflower Vol. 6, Harry Styles

A/N: okay so this part was so much fun to write!! it originally was going to have four more scenes but uh. as we all know. i am very wordy. so the other scenes I have planned will have to be split into what will probably become two more parts and you guys will just have to deal with getting another two chapters 😌 but this part is really exciting because we are getting a lil bit of angst mixed in with harry’s general dumbassery!! love to see it love to hear it!! and please if you like what you are reading here!! reblog it!! leave reactions in the tags (we read every single one)!! send a message to andrea and i!! feedback and interaction is what keeps content creators motivated to keep cranking out nearly 30k every one to two weeks!! and that’s a general rule for all content creators not just us!! we do this for free so a lil love note is always appreciated 💌 alrighty now that that’s out of the way!! let’s dive in!!

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

word count: 26.6k

content/warnings: another good dose of denial, Fajita Friday with a side of blended margs, waking up on the wrong side of the coffin, brutal analysis of niall’s non-existent love life, ribeye!y/n x rotisseriechicken!harry, a horrible impersonation of Bob Barker, “are you there, God?  it’s me, harry,” degradation, the violation of worksafe laws through the improper use of a ladder, mild pain kink, alexa, play ‘kiss it better’ by rihanna, and the rise of kinkrry (dir. j.j. abrams)

As Harry climbs up the stairs to Y/N’s apartment the next Friday night with a bag containing tequila, orange liqueur, and limes clutched within his jeweled hand, there are two thoughts flickering through his mind.  

The first, which weighs more heavily on the vampire, is if Y/N prefers her margaritas blended or over ice, as Harry feels that tells a lot about a person, and it would be such a disappointment to realize now that Y/N isn’t a fan of the blended beverage.  The second, which should weigh more heavily on his mind if he had his priorities sorted out, is how Y/N had managed to convince him to let her cook dinner for the two of them.

In reality, it hadn’t actually taken much convincing on the mortal girl’s part at all.  When she messaged him on her lunch break earlier that day, asking what he was up to that night, Harry had sat up on his couch, drawing Niall and Xander’s attention to him in a confused manner. He’d stared at the message for only three seconds before opening his phone and pressing on her contact name.  The action had come so easily to him that he didn’t even think about hiding his eagerness to speak to her, and instead pressed his phone tight to his ear as the other line rang three times before she picked it up.

“Harry?” Her confused voice rang through his phone speaker, the sound of the bustling cafe apparent in the background. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, love. I just, uh…just wanted to talk to you, s’all.” Harry had replied, shushing the questions he could see hanging off of Niall and Xander’s lips. “How’s work today?  Busy?”

“As busy as it always is on a Friday afternoon.” Y/N answered with a sigh, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips as he heard a loud slurp through the phone, leading him to picture a stressed out Y/N sipping the last remnants of her iced latte. “But I��m over halfway through my shift, at least, so… it’s all downhill from here.  In a good way.”

Harry had nodded slowly, as if the mortal girl could see him through the phone. “I’m glad to hear that.”

His friends, however, seemed to be less glad to hear it, and paused the golf tournament that was playing on TV to stare at him with incredulous expressions on their faces. 

“Who are you talking to?” Niall had demanded, kicking his foot into Harry’s calf with more force than what was necessary. “We’re going to miss the first swing!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Xander snickered to the Irishman next to him, a devious smirk lighting up his face. “It’s that human he’s been obsessed with for the last, like, two months.  His little plaything.”

Harry had stood up then, flipping the pair off with a pointed glare before turning towards the kitchen, intent on finding some peace and quiet where he could carry on his conversation without having to worry about Y/N overhearing something she shouldn’t.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your break,” He murmured, resting his elbows over the cool marble countertop of his kitchen island that was nearly the same temperature of his skin. “But calling you seemed easier than texting.  I’m free tonight—” He always kept his Friday nights free for her; had she not realized that by now? “So I was thinking I could be at your place around eight?  Or nine?  What works for you?”

And it was then that he had heard it, breaking through the cafe ambient noise that caught Harry’s inhuman ears, and the inquisitive whispering of Niall and Xander in the other room.  As clear as if it were really right in his ear, Harry had heard the sharp intake of breath, the slow exhale that followed, and the melodic voice that he’d become so familiar with, shaking ever so slightly.

“I was, um, actually thinking you could come over a bit earlier.” Y/N had replied, the tapping of her fingertips against her back room’s linoleum table reverberating around Harry’s head. “I got groceries yesterday, and I was going to make fajitas tonight, and I realized I had enough food for two people, and so if you don’t have anything else planned—”

Harry hadn’t meant to cut Y/N off— listening to her nervous rambling is one of his favourite things, and he’d never purposefully forfeit the opportunity to hear it (and that fondness aside, cutting off her speech would be rude)— but shock overtook his body and triggered the response before he could stop it. “You want to cook me dinner?”

“I—” The speaker crackled again, and Harry could practically picture the hesitation wrinkling across Y/N’s face, the caution in her tone a clear indication of how hard she was working to stay upright on the tense tightrope known as their relationship. “Yeah, I do.  I’m not a chef or anything, but my friends and I used to cook for each other all the time, and Fajita Fridays were one of my specialties, so—”

“I would absolutely love it if you cooked for me.” A slow grin had spread over Harry’s face, pulling the dimples from his cheeks in a way that he’d recently noticed only she could. “What time should I be over?  Do you want me to pick you up from work?”

“No, that’s fine.” Y/N had assured him quickly, the breathlessness in her voice leading Harry to picture the light rush of heat that was probably working its way over her cheeks. “You can come over around six, if that works for you…?”

Harry had checked the Rolex hanging off his wrist, which displayed the time of 2:33PM back to him. “Six is perfect.” He’d replied with an airy yet firm voice, nodding to himself once again. “Can I bring anything?  Is there anything you need me to pick up?”

“Oh, uh...no.  No, you don’t need to bring anything.  Just your appetite; I make a lot of fajitas.” The surprise that echoed in Y/N’s voice and the small laugh that followed had drawn an pleasurable ache from Harry’s dormant chest in a way he couldn’t explain. “Thank you for asking, though.  So… I’ll see you at six, then.”

“Sounds good, love.  I’m looking forward to it.” Harry had smiled again, despite no one being around to view it, and continued to smile even after he had hung up and made his way back to the living room, where his two friends had greeted him with an array of exaggerated vulgar motions and kissy faces.

He had waved them off, and though he’d glowered at them hotly and shrugged off their prodding questions, he couldn’t find it in himself to stifle the grin that the human girl’s offer had left behind on his cheeks.  She wanted to make him dinner. Just the two of them. It’d been so long since anyone had gone so out of their way for him like that, he hadn’t been able to help his giddy reaction.

As he reaches the final stair leading to Y/N’s floor of her building, a tired sigh falls from Harry’s pink lips.  He should’ve known better than to call her with his friend present, he thinks, as his footsteps echo around the empty hallway.  The moment he’d plopped back down on his couch, Niall and Xander had ignored his dismissive attitude and proceeded to continue to bombard him with a million questions about her, and a million more digs at his ego when he had later excused himself from their tournament to get ready for the dinner.  Although he’d normally be able to ignore their obsessive inquiries without so much as a second thought, he’d berated himself throughout his entire shower and get-ready routine, the harsh judgement ever-present in the back of his skull as he’d picked up his favourite ingredients for margaritas from the grocery store.  He should’ve known better.

It’s bad enough that he’s toying around with Y/N’s feelings just for his own selfish needs, but every time the topic of Y/N came up around his friends, it ended with the exact same question, just as it had earlier that day.

“So when do we get to meet her?  Like, officially meet her, and not just hear her moaning through your wall.” Niall had asked as he took a sip of his Guinness beer, layering a childish snicker on top of his curiosity.

“Yeah, I’d love to see the girl that domesticated you.  Always thought she’d be fictional, actually.” Xander’s laugh had matched Niall’s as the two of them watched Harry slip a fresh t-shirt over his head. 

A tightness had developed in Harry’s chest then, so tense that it had nearly stopped him from smoothing the shirt over his inked chest. “You don’t get to meet her.” He had replied curtly, shooting the two vampires a stern look. “She’s not something for you two to gawk at, she’s—”

Niall had interjected then, the mirth in his eyes refusing to bow despite Harry’s seething. “Your girlfriend?” 

Harry had stared witheringly at the Irish immortal. “No.  She’s not my girlfriend.  She’s just a friend I have an arrangement with.  An arrangement that will become much more complicated if she starts hanging out with other vampires and notices that there’s something… off about us.”

“Off?” Niall had questioned, grinning cheekily with a flash of his fangs, his blue irises dying blood red. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, mate.”

Pausing in front of Y/N’s front door, Harry takes a moment to swipe his hair back from his face, tousling his curls until they fall into just the right place.  His chestnut locks are beginning to get a little long again (they curl around his ears and tickle the nape of his neck now), but he can’t quite bring himself to cut them just yet; Y/N has a habit of reaching for them whenever he goes down on her, and the sensation of her tugging on his hair is too satisfying to let go of so easily.  As for the rest of his look, Harry has opted to keep it casual tonight, wearing a blue and pink flamingo patterned button down over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, paired with a rust-coloured pair of corduroy pants and his white vans.  If their usual routine is any indication, then Harry will be staying the night, and he’s learned over the years that it’s much comfier to leave the next morning in loose clothes than trying to yank on a pair of tight leather pants in a stranger’s bedroom.  Not that Y/N is a stranger; in fact, he could probably get away with bringing an overnight bag now.  But there’s something so presumptuous in showing up to a dinner date with a bag, and in a shocking— though fleeting— change of heart, the last thing Harry wants is to seem presumptuous. 

Harry raises his jeweled knuckles and raps on Y/N’s door in a rhythmic pattern, straightening his back and leaning against the frame as he waits for the door to open. 

Even through the wooden barrier, Harry can hear the old music floating through the bluetooth speaker that he knows sits on Y/N’s kitchen counter, the sizzling of peppers and onions in a pan, and Y/N singing to herself softly under her breath, the latter of which pauses as soon as Harry knocks.  Instead, it’s replaced with the soft padding of bare feet against the laminate floor, the click of a lock, the removal of a door chain, and the turning of a knob as the door swings open. 

And then Harry sees Y/N, and the sight of her catches the breath that he doesn’t really need. It lodges in his lungs and at the back of his burning throat, causing an odd sensation to churn the pit of his tummy as a sudden wave of heat pours into his cheeks. 

If Harry’s pride wasn’t as steadfast as he likes to portray, he would openly admit that it truly is frightening how just one glance at her can make his entire nervous system flare. 

It’s obvious that Y/N’s been at work all day; her mascara is slightly smudged beneath her eyes, and the ponytail bouncing at the top of her head is loose, with wisps of hair falling out and framing her face.  Her clothing, however, has been changed from her usual work polo and jeans to a cotton bralette that clings to her chest and displays a strip of her stomach that makes Harry’s mouth water.  Her black leggings have mesh cutouts on the side, and while that detail would normally draw Harry’s eyes by default, it’s the multicolour patchwork cardigan hanging loosely off her shoulders that really catches Harry off guard.  Or, more specifically, it’s his multicolour patchwork cardigan that catches him off guard. 

“Hi.” Y/N smiles up at him warmly with the edges of her eyes crinkling, her hands grasping the side of the door tightly. “Six P.M. on the dot, Holmes.  I’m impressed.”

“Solving mysteries isn’t my only speciality.” Harry matches his grin to hers, his dimples making an appearance as his expression grows. “Although speaking of mysteries… I think I just solved the case of my missing cardigan.” With his free hand, Harry reaches forward and tweaks a button on the article of clothing, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s bare tummy when he pulls away. 

A wispy giggle falls from Y/N’s cheeks as she opens the door wider to invite Harry in. “Right, that case.  I was about to call you about it, actually.  We got a big break-through last night.”

“Did we?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he steps into her apartment, shifting the fabric tote bag in his right hand to his left as he squeezes into the narrow corridor beside her. “And what was the big break, exactly?” 

Y/N wraps her arms around Harry’s neck as he snakes his now free hand around her waist, clutching her close to his cool body. “Well, I was trying to go to sleep, and I was cold, so I went searching in my closet for an extra blanket, and found this tucked in the back from when you let me borrow it last weekend.” She explains lightly, twisting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Case closed.  Elementary, my dear Holmes.”

“I thought that was my line?” Harry quirks an eyebrow as fond amusement dances through his emerald eyes, his cold palm giving one of her love handles a playful squeeze. “First you steal my cardigan, and now my catch phrase.  What’s next?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Y/N says with a shrug, her smile growing wider with every passing moment as she nudges his chin teasingly with the tip of her warm nose. “I could steal a kiss, I suppose?  That’s a very you thing to do.”

“Not quite.  Usually you’re the one trying to steal one, and I make you ask for it. Beg, even, if I’m feeling a bit meaner than usual.” Tilting his head to the side and shaking it slowly, Harry lets out a long sigh. “You’re losing your touch, Watson.”

“Tragic.” Y/N matches his sigh as she begins to untangle her hands from his hair, but when she tries to extract herself from Harry’s grasp, he just holds on tighter. 

“But for the sake of tradition…” Harry’s eyes fall to the mortal’s lips as he wets his own with his tongue. “How about a hello kiss?”

Despite the usual iciness of Harry’s touch, heat begins to blossom through Y/N’s chest as she tilts her head up to meet Harry’s mouth.  The kiss, unlike many they’ve shared before, is tender, and only lasts for a brief moment before Y/N settles back down on the balls of her feet. 

“Hi.” She whispers, her hands curling around the fabric clinging to Harry’s muscular shoulders. 

“Hi.” The vampire replies easily as he finally releases his grip on her waist, taking a step back from both Y/N and the bashful instance they’d found themselves in.

He allows her to lead him down the entrance hallway and into her living room, drifting behind her towards the kitchen and glimpsing over all the ingredients she has scattered around her counters.

“You look beautiful in my cardigan, by the way.” Harry throws out casually, admiring the way the article hangs off her figure in the most adorable oversized fashion. “If I didn’t make that clear enough before.  And,” the monster takes a sudden deep whiff for emphasis, “it smells delicious in here. Seems like Gordon Ramsey doesn’t have shit on you, huh?”

Although the initial compliment brings a flush of pleasure up Y/N’s spine, she chooses to focus on the latter half of Harry’s comment. “I’d like to think so, yeah.  Dinner is almost ready, if you want to take a seat at the table.  Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Actually…” Harry holds up the bag in his hand and bounces it jestingly, fully bringing it to Y/N’s attention for the first time. “I thought I’d make us margaritas to go with the fajitas.  Really commit to the theme, y’know?”

All of the previous drinks that Harry has made for her float through Y/N’s mind, and her mouth salivates at the thought of drinking another of his incredible creations. He really does have such a wise talent with liquor that she finds herself subconsciously wondering how that had come to be. “Of course; we can’t do Fajita Fridays halfway, now can we?”

“No, we can’t.” Harry agrees with a firm nod, setting the bag down on her small kitchen tabletop and unpacking the ingredients he’d toted with him. “Do you prefer your margaritas over ice or blended?”

The correct answer immediately rolls off the mortal’s tongue. “Blended— I’m not insane.” She states with a scoff, picking up her spatula to stir the pepper and onion mixture on the stove as she bobs her head towards the cabinet at the far end of the room. “The blender is just up in that cupboard there.”

The corners of Harry’s pink lips tug up at her response, and he nods to the girl as he drifts over and reaches for the cabinet she’d motioned to. “Gotcha.” He says, pushing back a few decorative serving platters before extracting the blender sitting on the back of the shelf. “Oh, this’ll do nicely.”

His comment is met with a quiet snort from Y/N, who glances at him from the corner of her eye as she turns her attention to the sautéing chicken in her skillet. “Oh, it will, will it?” She asks sarcastically, her lithe fingers adding pinches of seasoning to the dish. “Are you a blender connoisseur, then?”

“Of course I am, angel.  Y’have to be, to make a half decent margarita.” Setting the kitchen appliance in the counter, Harry studies it with a keen eye, running his fingers over the smooth glass and slightly worn buttons. “It has a little bit of wear and tear, but that’s to be expected; the rest of it seems to be in decent condition.” He unwraps the cord from the base of the blender, plugging it into the wall before pressing the pulse button a few times to make the machine roar to life. “Listen to that engine purr… A blender like this could bring a man to tears.”

“That’s good to know.” Y/N snorts again, shaking her head at Harry’s antics as he begins to prepare his ingredients. “If you need a knife for the limes, there’s one in the block there.  And ice is in the freezer—”

“That’s good to know.” Harry mimics her prior reply with a shit-eating grin on his face, his hand wrapped around a bottle of Don Julio he’d snagged from his bar shelves. “I was about to check the cabinet again.”

With a shake of her head, Y/N steps past Harry to open a cupboard and fetch a serving dish. “Alright, smartass.” She bumps her hip against Harry’s as she passes him, the motion sending a jolt of electricity across the vampire’s pelvic bones. “Keep it up and you’ll lose dessert privileges.”

Although she tries to step away, Harry twists a cool arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her back against his chest as he smudges a kiss over her pulse point. “‘M sorry.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low in an attempt to hide the smile brewing on his face. “I’ll be nicer, then.  I’d hate to lose dessert—it’s my favourite part.”

With his lips over her neck, Harry can feel the exact moment Y/N’s heart rate increases, his ears pricking with the now familiar and adored sound.  Her warm hand cups his over her belly, fingers tracing over the knuckles of his icy touch. 

“I know it is.” Y/N tilts her head to the left, trying to provide Harry with more access to her neck as his mouth continues to ghost over her skin. “So I’d hate to take it away.”

The human girl’s familiar and achingly sweet honey and lavender scent fills Harry’s nostrils as his nose brushes against her jaw.  When he refers to her as dessert, Y/N doesn’t know how genuinely Harry means it. “Alright.  I’ll behave.” He relents, but he squeezes her tummy tightly as his teeth graze her skin one last time before pulling away. “For now.”

When Y/N detangles from the cage that is Harry’s arm, she busies herself with cooking again, doing her best to hide the light sheen of sweat that is beading her forehead.  It’s almost embarrassing, really; despite only being here for five minutes, Harry’s already pulling reactions out of her that she didn’t even know she had.  If she doesn’t get a hold of herself soon, she’ll be on her knees for him before he’s had a bite of dinner. 

With that thought in mind, the mortal forces herself to focus on the tasks at hand, continuing her banter with Harry while making sure to keep the subject matter PG as she plates the food and Harry blends drinks for them.  Her tiny table, which she’s already set for two, is soon filled with dishes containing sautéed vegetables, chicken, and other various toppings, and Harry pours his margarita mix into two glasses before sitting across from her with a curious air. 

“So this is what you and your friends used to do back home, is it?” He asks, crossing his arms and resting them on the table as he regards Y/N with a tilted head. “Fajita Fridays?  Taco Tuesdays?  Meatloaf Mondays?”

“Meatloaf Mondays sound depressing.” Y/N shoots back with a scoff, her hand wrapping around her margarita glass and lifting it to her mouth to take a sip. “We weren’t that pathetic.”

Harry exhales a sharp but quiet breath from his nose once—the beginnings of a laugh— before offering a dry reply. “No, it doesn’t have a very nice ring to it, does it?” He says, watching eagerly as her eyes widen at the first taste of the drink rolls across her tongue. “Do you like it?”

Y/N clears her throat as she lowers her glass from her mouth. “It’s...strong.” Y/N replies slowly, taking another gulp and smacking her lips in an exaggerated fashion. “But yummy.  This is a repeat recipe, I think.” 

The praise warms the pit of Harry’s stomach as he raises his own glass, motioning to the girl before him before bringing the edge of the cup to his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He murmurs, setting his drink back down after taking a sip and letting his eyes roam over the food before them. “So how did you and your friends do this?  Everyone would just reach in at once, or—?”

“Oh, well, we—we used to say grace first, actually.” Y/N admits after a moment, her eyes momentarily flickering to the gold cross dangling from Harry’s neck.  Although his usual cross earring is absent tonight, his pearls out of sight as well, and he’s only wearing his opal and lionhead rings, that familiar cross necklace is present as ever. “And then we’d move everything around the table clockwise from the person who actually led saying grace.” 

Despite Y/N previously mentioning that she’d been a regular church goer in her hometown, this new information sparks an interest in Harry’s mind. “Really?” He quirks an eyebrow as the human girl reaches for a warmed tortilla and begins to spoon her toppings inside. “But you don’t do that now?”

“Nope.” Her lips pop on the final consonant sound of the word. “Did you say grace growing up?” She asks curiously, nodding to the chain around Harry’s neck. “You always wear that cross, so I was just wondering…”

“Oh, uh—yeah. Yeah, we did.” A crease furrows the space between Harry’s brow as he selects his own tortilla, keeping his eyes glued to the food. “My father used to lead it every night.” Although he could leave the comment there and be done with the topic, more words of explanation spill from Harry’s mouth without him realizing how much he’s actually saying, his gaze remaining trained on the way he’s filling his tortilla, almost as if it’s a monumentally difficult task that requires his utmost attention. “I liked to listen to him say it.  My father had a very calming voice; he could be loud and boisterous when he wanted to, but at home, he always kept cool and collected.  It was comforting.”

Y/N notes the use of past tense when discussing Harry’s father, but doesn’t comment on it.  With the knowledge that his mother had passed away in her mind, she assumes the same has happened to his father, and the realization twists her heart in a new and aching manner. “You speak like that, you know.” She tries to steer the conversation into a lighter direction, registering the sadness in his emerald eyes when he discusses his family. “When you’re telling stories about your life.  Your voice is low and even, quieter than usual.  It sounds a bit like a…lullaby, I guess.  Or like— like an audiobook, like someone’s reading some old poetry, or—” Her cheeks flame beneath her skin as she drops her eyes to her plate. “Sorry.  That, um, that sounds strange.”

The outpouring confessions from the girl across from him brings an awed expression to Harry’s face.  He had always assumed his voice was more of a siren song than anything— capable of luring his victims into a false sense of security before he showed his true monstrous form.  But if the stuttering of Y/N’s heart and the brightness in her eyes is any indication, maybe that isn’t quite the case.  She described him as a lullaby, yes, but she didn’t sound betrayed at the thought of him spinning stories in order to keep her pliable under his grasp.  If anything, her words give the impression that she enjoys it.

“I’ve heard stranger.” Harry murmurs after a moment, his unusually bare forefinger rubbing over his lips pensively as he waits for Y/N to raise her head again. “Thank you.  That’s a compliment, really, saying that I sound like my dad used to.”

“Well, I mean, I’ve never heard your dad speak, so take it with a grain of salt—” Y/N forces out a laugh, despite her cheeks and neck still feeling uncomfortably flushed, “—but I imagine it’s similar.  After all, he raised you, didn’t he?”

Harry nods slowly, his mind so wrapped in his own memories that he doesn’t even think about the incriminating answer about to fall from his lips. “He did, yeah, but it’s been a while since I’ve been able to speak to him.” He admits, pinching his chin between his thumb and index finger as he lifts his left shoulder in an empty shrug. “Memories fade over time.  Things change.  People change.”

Although she can feel that they’re beginning to breach a more serious topic, Y/N doesn’t pull back like she did in the restaurant.  She rationalizes this action to herself as she sips her margarita and collects her thoughts, saying that it’s just because it’s easier to be honest in her apartment than a brunch restaurant. But the truth of the matter is that the longer she spends with Harry, the more Y/N wants to know him. Really know him, outside of their usual arrangement. 

“That’s true,” She agrees with hesitancy etched into her voice, keeping a measured glance on Harry’s body to read his reaction. “But you can’t have changed that much since you last saw him.  When…” Her words trail off when Harry locks his emerald eyes with hers, but she takes a deep breath and finishes her question in determination. “When did he pass away?  How old were you?”

In the immortal’s mind, the answer forms without any delay.  His father had been the first to go in his family; the combination of breathing in smoke from the forge and his age being four years his mother’s senior had stopped his heart before hers.  The news of his death reached Harry a few days after it had happened, and he had just made it back to Holmes Chapel in time to watch the funeral service from afar.  

Despite his appearance being frozen at twenty-six, as it always would be, Harry was nearly twenty-nine to the day of the funeral.  Gemma had been thirty-three by then, standing with their mother and a tall man by her side, who whispered what her brother hoped were reassuring words in her ear.  His sister's eyes had been nearly a perfect mirror of Harry’s, with the exception of a few crow’s feet beginning to show around them.  And his mother had been dressed in widower’s black, a veil pulled over her weeping face to allow her the bit of discretion that was expected in Victorian times.  Harry had been distressed when he saw the veil, despite expecting it to be there; he’d hoped he could get one more glimpse of her eyes before he had to leave that day.  He had entertained the idea of walking over, expressing his condolences, and compelling her to forget she’d seen her lost son, but the thought had twisted an ache into his chest that had nearly brought him to tears, and—

“I was twenty-one when he passed away.” Harry spits the sentence out, and the familiar lie burns his throat in an entirely foreign way than the thirst he’s used to. “He had lung cancer.” At least, that had been Harry’s assumption after he read up on the disease years after his father’s undetermined passing.  It made sense, given that all the grit and soot from the coal and metal grime had found its way into the air of the blacksmith’s shop, and after slaving away for years in order to keep food on the table, it had also eventually made its way into his father’s system… “It progressed quickly.” 

As he watches sympathy glaze itself over Y/N’s eyes, all he can think about is how undeserving he is of it.  Even though he’s compelled the mortal girl in front of him, gained her trust, been invited into her home, and is kindling a connection with her, all for the simple act of drinking her blood, Harry thinks that this might be the most monstrous thing he’s done yet— paint himself as a victim of circumstance, hiding all the wrong-doings he’s ever committed, and allowing Y/N and her softly-beating heart to feel sorry for him. 

The conversation moves to an lighter tone after that, which Harry does on purpose; the less he needs to tell her about his fabricated sob story, the better.  And, truth be told, he’d much rather hear about Y/N’s day-to-day life.  It’s been so long since he had human concerns, and when he did, his concerns certainly didn’t have anything to do with being betrayed by customers because the cafe wifi was down.  It’s almost amusing to him, listening to her rant about all these insignificant people, and he can’t help the way his dimples begin to peek out of his cheeks as she raises her voice at imaginary customers. 

“So I told him, in my most polite voice, that we were aware the wifi was down, and that we’d called the provider to let them know, and that they were sending someone as fast as they could to fix it. And do you know what he said to me?” Y/N widens her eyes in incredulous disbelief as she takes a bite of her fajita, chewing and swallowing quickly to continue with her story with more emphasis. “Do you know what he said?”

“No, I don’t.” Harry shakes his head in endearment, hiding the laugh forming on his rosy lips behind his margarita glass. “What did he say?”

“He said—” Y/N twists her face to mimic the customer’s expression, dropping her voice down five octaves lower as she speaks with a ridiculous tone. “‘Oh, well, can’t you just fix it?  You work here, don’t you?  What else do you get paid for?’ Can you believe that?” She states the last phrase in her normal voice, scoffing at the memory as she crosses her patchwork covered arms across her chest. “Like, I’m a waitress!  I don’t work at an internet company!  I’m trained to bring you water and sandwiches— which are more cucumber than anything with actual substance—  so it’s not my responsibility to figure out why you can’t load Candy Crush on your phone!”

A snicker finally breaks free from Harry’s throat as he watches Y/N angrily stuff a piece of chicken into her mouth. “Sounds like you had a rough day today.”

“That’s pretty average for me, honestly.” Y/N sighs again, rubbing her hand over her forehead as she polishes off the rest of her second margarita. “Ugh, it pissed me off.  I wanted to shove his phone right up his ass and ask if his wifi connection got better.” A small smile breaks out across Y/N’s lips in spite of herself as Harry stifles another giggle at her witty comment. “But I’ve talked about it enough.  How was your day?  What did you do?”

“I did a bit of work in the morning, nothing too noteworthy.” Harry replies, deliberately keeping his answer vague as he twists his lionhead ring around his finger. “And I was about to watch a golf tournament with Xander and Niall when you called.”

Harry thinks nothing of mentioning their names, but is surprised when Y/N’s brow cinch in thought. “Which ones are Xander and Niall?  Is one of them the long haired one?” She asks curiously, pulling her (his) cardigan off one shoulder as the tequila begins to course through her veins and heat her body. 

“The— no.  No, that’s Mitch.” Harry says slowly, cocking his head to the side in confusion. “How did you know that?”

Y/N feels a spike of embarrassment in her stomach, and shyly avoids Harry’s eyes as she answers. “There was a photo of you with a group of guys in your apartment, in the living room.” She mumbles, tapping her fingers against her newly cleaned plate. “One of them— I think he was next to you in the photo?— had long hair.  Another had blue eyes, glasses… and brown hair, I think?  I don’t really remember the rest…”

Harry hums in the back of his throat, quiet and low. “That was probably Niall.” He guesses, finishing his own margarita and setting the glass down gently. “If I’m thinking of the right picture, then Xander was the one standing next to him.”

Y/N pictures the faces in her mind’s eye, imagining the two brunette boys in the clothing from the photo, slumped next to Harry on the couch of his stunning condo, knocking back pints of beer and plates of nachos as they watch golf on TV.  It seems strange to picture Harry doing something so… normal.  She forgets, sometimes, that he’s a regular twenty-six year old man.  In her head, when she thinks of Harry, regular is the last word that comes to her mind— even when he’s sitting across from her in a casual outfit, doing something as simple as eating dinner while he asks her about her day, Y/N struggles to remember that this man is just that: a man.  

Maybe, she ponders, as Harry stands up with the explanation of making more margaritas falling off his lips, it’s because she’s only ever really been alone with him.  With the exception of the club where they met, and his friends interrupting their weekend a few weeks prior (her cheeks flame at the recalling of the embarrassing memory), Y/N has only ever seen Harry in her own context.  

As the blender whirs to life behind her, the human twists in her chair to catch a glimpse of the object of her thoughts.  Even beneath his opaque shirt, she can see the muscles of Harry’s back flexing as he bends down to slice a lime, squeezing the juice into the top of the blender while holding his jeweled hand underneath to catch any seeds.  When Harry is around her, he’s charming, cocky, self-assured, and— on the extremely rare occasion— vulnerable.  What’s he like around his friends?  

Just as cocky, Y/N is sure; she can’t picture Harry letting go of his signature smirk so easily.  But does anything else about him shift when exposed to different company?  Is there different vocabulary that slips from his mouth?  What about his tone of voice?  Does that change, too, like Y/N’s used to when she was around Bradley, or when she’s with customers?  He mentioned earlier that he’d been watching golf, and that was the last sport she'd ever think he’d have an affinity for, let alone one he’d enjoy enough to make a day out of watching tournaments.  What other personality traits and pastimes is he keeping from her?  If she were to be a fly on the wall while he was with his friends, would she see someone completely unrecognizable in his Gucci boots and translucent shirts?

The sudden lack of noise from the blender snaps Y/N from her thoughts, and Harry detaches the pitcher and carries it to the table, filling her empty glass with a smile. 

“There you are, miss.” He winks at her quickly before filling his own cup and standing back from the table with a grin, his free hand folded behind his back as he straightens his posture. “Now,” He begins, his accent slipping into a more posh tongue as he bows his head lightly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Despite her worries, a soft laugh rolls from Y/N at his impersonation of a server. “Yeah, actually.” She drops her voice lower again, plastering an angry expression onto her face as she reaches into her cardigan pocket and retrieves her phone. “Your wifi is down.  What kind of restaurant doesn’t have wifi?  Can’t you fix this?”

A loud snort echoes from Harry’s mouth as he sets the blender back down on the counter before sliding back into his seat across from her. “Sorry, love,” He laughs, his regular accent back in its place. “That’s a bit above my paygrade.  I can, however, offer you some compensation.”

Wrapping her fingers around the icy margarita glass, Y/N leans forward, resting her chin on her free hand as she appraises Harry with a kinked brow. “Is that so?” She replies in her regular voice as well, her interest piqued. “What kind of compensation?”

“It’s part of our Friday Night Special,” Harry slides his hand across the table and pushes the baggy rainbow sleeve of Y/N’s cardigan down her arm in order to brush his cool fingers up and down her bare skin. “And it features bottomless margaritas paired with cunnilingus from our most handsome waiter.”

A fluttering warmth begins to knot itself around Y/N’s core, but she does her best to keep her composure as she straightens her spine and glances around the apartment. “Sounds intriguing.  So where’s the handsome waiter?”

Harry’s pillowy lips plunk down into an exaggerated frown as he presses a hand to his chest, his other hand continuing to stroke over Y/N’s forearm. “Ouch, Watson.  That hurt.  Might need you to kiss it better.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N challenges, lifting her drink to her lips and sipping it slowly. “Where exactly does it hurt?”

Instead of answering her query, Harry simply stands from his chair and rounds the table to stop in front of Y/N, extending his hand to her.  She lays her fingers inside his cool grasp, allowing him to pull her from her seat.  He’s closer than she realized, she thinks, as her chest brushes with his and the intoxicating scent of his cologne fills her senses, only getting stronger as Harry nudges her nose with his own, his lips just barely gliding over her own. The copper specks around his pupils glitz under the muted lighting, electric from the alcohol, from the sensation of her close proximity, and from the ever-present intention of getting between her legs.

When Harry finally speaks, his thick cadence washes over her just as much as his tequila-scented breath, his free-hand tugging suggestively at the waistband of her leggings. “If we go to your bedroom, then I can show you.”

“Mm, is that so?” The girl gives in to his gesture, stepping forward as the vampire begins treading backwards towards their new— though entirely familiar— destination. “You’re gonna show me, then?”

“I most certainly am.” The boy keeps their bodies close, making sure that his lips continue to just barely graze hers as he moves, teasing her nerves into a frenzy. “I plan on showing you over, and over, and over…”

Y/N can’t bring herself to resist the offer.  She’s only human, after all.

///

The next morning, Harry wakes up tangled in Y/N’s sheets to two surprises: the sheets on Y/N’s side of the bed are cold and bare, and that Harry is actually waking up.  

Although he remembers falling back onto the scattered sheets the night before (after coaxing three orgasms out of Y/N and her coaxing two from him in return), he doesn’t remember drifting off into the sleep he so rarely needs, and because of that, Harry feels disoriented and groggy in a way he hasn’t in a long time.  He does his best to blink the haze from his usually sharp eyes, knuckling at them with his cool fingers as he attempts to get his bearings.

His sleep-fogged mind struggles to recall what had happened after Y/N had fallen asleep.  She’d drifted off easily and quickly, her sweat-soaked body tucked into Harry’s with her head resting in the crook of his neck.  That noted detail sticks out in his memory because it had made Harry pause before biting her.  She’d been so comfortable next to him, and in such an inconvenient position that Harry didn’t want to shift her to drink. After debating with himself for a few moments, he’d eventually decided on an alternative and had lifted her fragile wrist to his lips.

Even half awake, Harry’s lips quirk up at the hazy memory.  He recalls the feeling of her hummingbird pulse thrumming beneath her delicate skin, practically vibrating against his lips as he stamped a kiss over her vein before biting down.  Her blood had a weaker flow there, but that was alright; he’d just sucked a little harder to coax the liquid from her body, feeling his mouth overflow with her welcomed taste as well as with the supernatural chemicals that inject into her system and dull any pain his feeding might cause. He’d been careful to gauge his consumption by the strength of her heartbeat, and when he’d finished, he’d sealed the wound with a bit of his own blood, as usual. He’d made sure Y/N was healed and settled back in his arms before relaxing into the pillows to listen to her breathing, the soft pillows and her radiating body heat feeling more soothing than usual. Somewhere between counting the movement of her lungs and the sun rising, Harry had fallen unconscious.

It’s strange, being up after Y/N.  Harry has grown used to rising before her and making breakfast, or even just coffee, and there’s something disorienting about being in her bed alone, without her inherent warmth and soft skin, and only the ghost of her sugary scent left behind.  He briefly wonders if this is how she feels when she wakes up to cold sheets and no one beside her (although Harry suspects the lack of his frozen body would make the bed a more comfortable temperature), and thinks that maybe he should begin to lay in bed with her a little longer; if he’s going to fake a relationship with her, it should be a relationship where her partner wants to be around her, and isn’t awake before the sun.

And that’s another thing.  The golden orange light of the rising L.A. sun is just beginning to stream through the closed curtains, so what time is it?  It can’t be any later than seven— on a Saturday, no less— and at such an early hour, Harry would expect Y/N to still be dreamily dozing in bed.  What had drawn her away from her comfortable position in Harry’s arms?

As the sun continues to rise, the light begins to streak onto Y/N’s empty side of the bed and, instinctually, Harry begins to reach for the beam, craving the warmth she took with her when she abandoned the sheets.  Instead of the expected touch of heat, however, Harry is jarred by a burning sensation ripping across his icy flesh.

The vampire yanks his hand back in a flash, his face screwing in silent pain as he bites back a yell of anguish, but the damage has already been done.  The tips of his fingers are puckered with red blisters, which throb as he flexes his hand in the safety of the shadows. Harry digs his sharp teeth into his lip harder, forcing himself to inhale slowly through his nose and exhale shakily through his mouth.

It takes a few moments for him to collect himself, breathing deeply with his eyes closed as he does so, and as he counts his own breaths like he’d counted Y/N’s the night before, what should’ve been an obvious thought enters his mind: why had he burned?  He’s wearing his lionhead ring, which has eyes made of those precious crystals that protect his inhuman skin from sunlight, and as long as he’s wearing it, the sun shouldn’t be able to…

Harry’s sight snaps completely open as he jerks forward in bed, his head throbbing from the sudden movement.  When he’d first awoken, he’d attributed his grogginess and dry eyes to sleeping for the first time in weeks, but as Harry’s jade gaze settles upon his uninjured hand, he realizes the truth.  That disorienting feeling isn’t from sleep, but from the sunlight that had begun to seep through the curtains and affect his body, bouncing off the glossy walls of Y/N’s room and reflecting off her picture frames and furniture.  What would normally not be an issue suddenly becomes the bane of his existence, and what usually isn’t able to affect his body immediately does, obvious in the agonizing sweltering writhing through every single one of his dormant arteries. And all because his lionhead ring is missing from its rightful place.

Granted, Harry hadn’t worn most of his rings to Y/N’s apartment the night before, seeing as how they planned to spend the night in, but he’d kept his mother’s opal and the lionhead securely on his middle finger and pinky, just as he always did.  The former brings him memories of his mother, and helps him keep a piece of her— and who he once was— with him in this strange modern time.  The latter had been a rebirth gift from a family he’d rather forget, and if it didn’t keep him from flambéing himself every time he stepped into the sun, he wouldn’t wear it at all. In all honesty, he probably would’ve chucked into Hell, if he could. 

But the reality of his afterlife is that Harry needs that ring.  So why is it missing from his hand?

Cradling his blistered digits to his bare chest, the wounded vampire tosses back the covers, careful to avoid the streaks of sunshine beginning to light up the small room.  His icy chest soothes the burn in his fingers, which are taking longer to heal than Harry would’ve thought, but if the grating itch of his dry eyes is any indication, the effects of the sun aren’t just limited to direct physical harm, but are also stopping his body from healing itself as quickly as usual.

Harry presses his good hand to his dizzy head and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, planting his feet onto the ground as firmly as he can to center himself, refusing to cripple under the extraneous circumstances. He fishes his grey boxers from their signature spot on Y/N’s floor, slipping them on slowly as even the smallest of movements seems to strain his muscles beyond reason. As the elastic band snaps around his hips, another frightening possibility seizes his body: his mother’s ring could also be gone. He yanks his hand away from his head, and it takes his eyes a moment to focus on the opal ring.  At least he can breathe a sigh of relief about one thing— if his mother’s ring had disappeared, Harry’s not quite sure what he would’ve done.  

And that thought brings his spinning mind back to the present.  His lionhead ring is gone, and he can’t so much as step into sunlight without undergoing intense, insurmountable pain, so how is he going to find it?

Another groan falls from Harry’s mouth as he rests his forehead in his palm, propping his elbow against his knee so he can shield his eyes from the sunlight by hiding in between his legs.  Daylight talismans are extremely rare; he can’t exactly waltz into the nearest Wal-Mart and pick one up.  The crystals that give vampires such cherished immunity all date back to the medieval era, when vampires were considered mythical legends instead of just plain myths, and what few of the crystals are left are hidden deep within old ruins in the remote wilderness of Europe.  If Harry hadn’t been given his shortly after he was turned, he’s not sure he would have been lucky enough to own one.  He remembers Niall telling him how he had to search every night for months before he found a crystal hidden inside a ruin in Wales, and Xander had once recounted the story of stealing his from the vampire that turned him.  Even Mitch had struggled with the crystals before; although his ring had originally been a gift from the vampire that transformed him, he had to crack the crystal in half and set it into a new ring for Sarah when she had met her untimely demise. 

Vampires have been known to beg, lie, cheat, and steal in order to get their hands on a daylight crystal, so if someone managed to sneak in and take Harry’s lionhead ring while he and Y/N were sleeping, then Harry is going to have a fucking hell of a time trying to get it back. 

As the thought enters Harry’s dazed mind, a chill runs down his back, crawling across his spine and down his tailbone in an unsettling shiver as he slowly turns back to Y/N’s empty side of the bed.  If someone— if another creature just like him, who would be the only other person capable of recognizing such a treasure— got into the apartment and took his ring, and found an unconscious mortal girl with the sweetest honey and lavender liquid pulsing through her veins, then…

The sheets and curtains of the room blow in a breeze as Harry jets off the bed, forgetting to control his inhuman speed as he throws the sliding door open and stumbles into the hallway.  More sunlight streams through the windows of the living room, and it’s taking all of Harry’s dulled concentration to avoid the beams as he staggers towards the kitchen.

It’s not until the immortal smells Y/N’s familiar fragrance and hears the beating of her heart, in tune with her quiet humming, that the fear Harry hadn’t realized had tightened his chest flows out of him in one fell swoop.  He does his best to force even breaths in and out of his lungs, watching as Y/N raises her coffee mug to her lips and blows on the hot liquid before taking a small sip.

She’s dressed in his multicoloured patchwork cardigan again, buttoned up to provide her with warmth and modesty, but it slips down her bare shoulder in a way that allows Harry to see she’s wearing nothing underneath it.  Although the cardigan pools around her silky thighs— which are marked with bruises from the night before— Harry can see the tiniest peak of her panties beneath the fabric, and if he were in a better frame of mind, he might’ve noticed how they’re not the pair she wore last night (that pair had been ripped right down the middle in his frantic attempt to get them off).  However, Harry’s eyes quickly settle on Y/N’s hands, which, after she sets down her coffee cup, pick up Harry’s lionhead ring and begin turning it around in her fingers.

When he sees the ring in her delicate grasp, a wave of sheer rage begins to rumble through Harry’s chest, and it takes every fiber of his undead being to keep it at bay as he approaches the mortal girl. “Y/N,” Harry rasps lowly, voice heavy with the exhaustion that his newfound vulnerability has stacked onto his shoulders. He stands in the one spot of shadow near the kitchen counter, trying hard not to glower. “What are you doing?”

When Y/N turns her head to look at him, her sleepy face smiles softly, eyes nearly as bright as the infuriating sun. Maybe that’s why, Harry thinks, it feels like it burns.

“Morning,” She says quietly, her own voice just as sleepy as Harry’s as she picks up a grey cloth from the table and begins to run it over the ring with precision and care. “How did you sleep?”

It’s a simple, innocent question, and Harry knows that, but his mind can’t think in simple and innocent terms right now.  As the light filling the room begins to pound his head even more, Harry’s thoughts revert back to his most instinctual behavior— rough carnal impulse. “What are you doing?” He asks again, his voice lower than before.  He sounds dangerous, and he means to.  How could she possibly think that taking something from him without his permission is fine?

“I’m polishing your ring.” Y/N keeps that good-natured smile on her face as she replies, but Harry can see the smallest waver in it as she begins to sense his distorted energy from across the room. “It was tarnished, and I have a polishing cloth, so I thought I’d—”

“Give it back.” Harry doesn’t mean to snarl the phrase, but he can’t stop himself from doing it as he thrusts out his hand expectantly; it’s taking all his concentration to keep himself from baring his teeth and letting his eyes bleed red. 

Y/N doesn’t fight him on it, and drops the ring carefully into his awaiting hand without letting her warm skin meet his.  She watches with confused eyes as Harry slips the newly shined lionhead ring onto his finger, a breath of relief sighing from his red lips the moment the metal meets his skin. He finishes twisting it into its designated spot, and he feels like he can actually breathe again.

The human girl waits a moment for an explanation from Harry, some spoken word or action to justify the hostility rolling off of him as he clutches the jeweled hand to his chest.  As the moments pass, however, Harry offers no explanation, or anything at all as he takes deep and measured inhales through his nose, as if he’s trying to relax. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N offers the words quietly, turning in her chair to properly face him with sincere eyes. “I just noticed that it was more tarnished than your other jewelry, and I thought I could—”

“You can’t take my rings from me.” Harry answers in a harsh voice, his face reflecting about as much warmth as stone on a winter’s day. “I thought I’d lost it.  You can’t do that.”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeats the phrase again, gentler this time as she wraps her hands around her steaming mug.  She had guessed that the opal ring was his mother’s, but like Harry’s ruby ring and initial rings, she’d deduced this lionhead decal was more for decoration than anything.  If it was something important, one would figure that he’d take better care of it.  But it seems she’s not as adept at reading Harry as she’d like to think, because his explosive reaction had been totally unexpected.  For the first time since she met him, Y/N feels uneasy in his presence.  Had she really offended him that much?

The truth of the situation, unbeknownst to her, is that Harry’s reaction is no more purposefully malicious than Y/N’s intentions. Although the ring is back on his finger, and the crystals are beginning to protect him again, Harry’s thoughts are still muddied as he glances around the apartment, carefully surveying the circumstance like the top predator he pretends not to be.  There’s still a throbbing in his skull, and his eyes remain painfully dry, despite the fact that his healing has kicked in and mended his blistered fingertips.  In this moment, Harry feels weaker than he has in centuries; if someone were to attack right now, he wouldn’t be able to react quickly enough to protect himself. How could his aching head afford him any clear plan of attack?  How could his burning eyes show him every approaching danger?  How did he let himself become so relaxed— so stupidly lax— that he didn’t notice a mere human slipping off his most precious and needed object as he slept soundly in her bed?

“I really am sorry, Harry.” Rising from her chair with her quiet speech, Y/N steps towards him, hand outstretched to touch his inked forearm. “I didn’t know—”

Her hot fingertips against Harry’s frozen skin jar the vampire, triggering his fight or flight instincts as he tenses beneath her touch. “No—” He wrenches his arm away hurriedly, the searing graze reminding him of the sunlight that had harmed him just seconds ago, his wild eyes meeting Y/N’s in a feral frenzy. 

Although her chest barely moves, Harry can hear the stuttering breath that the girl sucks in through her teeth, her eyes widening at the severity of his actions. “I’m sorry.” She whispers the phrase again, her fingers jerking back from Harry’s arm in shock. “I…”

The more time passes, the more Harry regains control of himself, and as Harry melds his shattered composure back together, he can see the fear beginning to stain its way onto Y/N’s face.  The uneven beating of her heart pricks his ears, as does the scuff of the floor beneath her bare feet as she takes a step back from him.  When that uncertain fear reaches her irises, Harry is suddenly flashed back to their first date, when he’d been worried that she might be scared of being alone with him, and how delighted he’d been when he realized that wasn’t the case.  And now, as a sick feeling begins to settle in his stomach, he knows he’s blown it. 

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Harry urges himself to relax. 

“No, I’m sorry.” He softens his voice as much as he can muster in order to apologize, rubbing his charred eyes with one hand, hoping they’re still the canopy green Y/N is familiar with. “M’just half asleep still, and I was worried that— I’m sorry.” Harry extends his ringed hand in invitation, desperately craving the warmth of Y/N’s touch now that he’s leveled out, but not wanting to take it unwillingly. He wants her to feel safe enough to give it to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

There’s a moment of hesitation that flickers in her eyes, but it quickly passes as the mortal lays her hand within his. “You didn’t scare me.” She reassures him, but Harry can hear the falseness of her response immediately, and that guarded demeanor only intensifies the nausea rattling inside him.

Is she lying to save his feelings, he wonders, or to make herself look tougher?  No matter which may be the truth, Harry hates that she has to feel the need to lie.  He’d been upset, yes, but he should know better.  And he should know that she doesn’t know better.  She thought she’d been doing something nice for him; she has no idea about the torturous results his ring protects him from.  And she doesn’t know because Harry refuses to tell her— because he refuses to subject her to that perverted knowledge.  This is his own doing. 

“I did. I did frighten you, and I was rude, and I’m truly sorry.” Harry sighs heavily, dragging his fingers through his sleep-tousled curls. “My ring is just— it’s very important to me, and I don’t really like to take it off, so maybe just—just ask next time, yeah?” He murmurs the words in a soothing tone, his thumb sweeping over her knuckles in a poor attempt to make up for the way he’d berated her. “I know you didn’t have any bad intentions, and I’m not angry with you for taking it, but it just scared me when I woke up and it was gone.” 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeats yet again, and although Harry can feel her melting into his touch, there’s still a hint of uncertainty lingering beneath her words. 

Harry forces a grin on his chapped lips, which he wets with his tongue before speaking again. “S’alright, dove.  No harm, no foul.  And no more apologies, yeah?” He brushes a finger over her cheek, trying his best to put on a lighthearted front for the girl. “It was rather tarnished, actually— needed a good cleaning.” 

A shy smile finally creeps its way onto Y/N’s face, and Harry has to stop himself from breathing an audible sigh of content at both the gesture and the lack of prying about why that ring was dirtier than the rest (the answer to said question is just as simple as it is complicated: it reminds Harry of someone he’d rather forget, and if he didn’t need it, he’d drown it in the deepest ocean he could find— keeping it clean is the least of his concerns).

“How about breakfast, hm?  It’s early, but we could make some pancakes, or—” Harry glances at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, reading the time with surprise before his gaze travels back to Y/N with a confused look. “It’s not even seven yet.  What time did you get up?”

“Around 6:15?  6:30?” She lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, and Harry’s cardigan slips down her arm with the motion. “I don’t really remember.”

With his other hand still squeezing her own, Harry rugs the sleeve of the cardigan back up her shoulder, smoothing it over her morning-cooled skin. “It’s a Saturday, darling.  What were you doing up so early?”

Despite her heartbeat having not quite returned to its usual tempo, Y/N nuzzles into Harry’s touch as he pulls her closer to him. “Couldn’t really sleep, I guess.” Tucking her face into his neck for a moment, Y/N indulges a penetrating inhale, enjoying the remnants of his mahogany and vanilla cologne before stepping back and past Harry to the cabinet.  

Standing on her tiptoes, Y/N opens the door and retrieves a pink flowered mug before sliding down the counter to her coffee maker. “Want some coffee?” She asks, touching the glass of the carafe lightly to make sure it’s still warm. “There’s butter in the fridge, I think, if you want to make your disgusting drink.”

Ignoring the dig at his beverage of choice— which Harry has explained to her, multiple times, has many health benefits (not that he needs them) and just tastes better than coffee with cream— the vampire leans his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest as his brow furrows over his darkening eyes. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He questions, his attention glued to Y/N’s actions as she seems to deliberately avoid his gaze.  He analyzes the dark circles under her eyes, apparent even from just her side profile, and a spark of concern ignites his chest.  Could this be his fault?  Is drinking her blood beginning to take a physical toll on her body?  His blood has been healing her bite marks, but what about her iron levels?  Is her circulation being affected?  Mitch has told him multiple times that drinking from humans is okay once or twice a week, as long as there’s a grace period in between feeding, but Mitch has also never had the same human for as long as Harry has had Y/N.  Have the weeks they’ve spent together begun to unravel her?

When Y/N simply shrugs in response to his question, and offers no other words of explanation, a tired sigh falls from Harry’s lips as he steps towards her, taking the now-filled coffee mug from her hands and setting it down on the counter.  He wraps his arms around Y/N’s shoulders, hugging the girl into his chest for a moment to get a gauge on her body’s response.  Her heartbeat stutters, yes, but that’s a usual response to being wrapped inside Harry’s embrace, and it returns to normal after a few beats.  Her body feels just as warm as it usually does, and her chest is rising and falling just as it should be.  Nudging his face into her hair, he breathes in deeply, filling his lungs with her fragrance.  No, nothing smells out of place, and her blood had tasted as delicious and as strong as ever last night.  If she’s having trouble sleeping, the cause isn’t anything tangible. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Harry mumbles the words into her hair before lifting his head up, extracting the girl from his arms just enough so that he can see her face. “If something is bothering you and keeping you up, then you can wake me up, too.”

Y/N worries her pillowy bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes become entranced by Harry’s rosemary gaze. “I know I could, but I didn’t want to.  You—” She swallows hard in an attempt to clear the thickness from her throat as her cheeks begin to burn. “You were sleeping, and I never see you sleep.” Y/N’s voice retreats into a sheepish tone at the admittance, her eyes falling from Harry’s stare to the floor between them. “You always fall asleep after me, and you’re always awake before me.  You need rest, too, H.”

While Harry would normally laugh at that simple phrase— at the fact that Y/N doesn’t know how wrong she is— Harry’s dimples remain dormant as he focuses on the concern in her voice. “I—” His voice catches in his throat, and he has to clear it before he can say anything else. “I sleep just fine.  Better, in fact, when I’m with you.” He confesses, his thumbs brushing over the exposed skin of Y/N’s neck. 

And after Y/N has extracted herself from his grip to take a sip of her coffee, after she teasingly groans while watching Harry drop a pat of butter into his own steaming mug, after he begins to crack eggs into a pan as Y/N starts to lay bacon on a baking sheet, after all that, Harry finally realizes what lodged in his throat. It dawns on him just as Y/N slips a pink apron over his bare, faintly hickey-bruised chest to protect him from splatters of grease, giggling to herself as he poses with his hand on his hip and makes a vulgar joke about how this looks like the setup to a cheesy porno. 

The vampire comes to the realization that Y/N takes notice of him. 

She notices when he doesn’t sleep.  She notices his exposed skin that could potentially be burned while cooking.  She notices the expressions on his face, reads the tone of his voice, knows when to press a matter and when to leave it be.  And she’s concerned.  She’s concerned about not seeing him sleep.  She’s concerned about him accidentally getting hurt.  She’s concerned about the swings in his moods, the shortness of his answers.  And while Harry knows her real concerns should be about allowing herself to be in such close proximity to someone— something— like him, he can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest at the thought of her worrying about him. 

As much as Harry likes to pretend otherwise, he knows he’s not easy to be around sometimes.  He can be vain, self-centered, self-serving, and inconsiderate.  He can be selfish, dishonest, and manipulative.  His mood can teeter at the drop of a hat, and he changes his mind like the weather on the best of days.  And on his worst of days, sometimes Harry wonders if anyone could care for him, or even stand to be around him, if it wasn’t a necessity. 

Although he’d never admit it, when Harry reflects on his friendships, he can feel a degree of insecurity in the threads that tie him to his crew.  He’s fairly certain that if he and Mitch met under different circumstances— circumstances when both of them were human— they would likely still be friends.  Maybe not as close as they are today, but friends, at the very least.  When it comes to Niall, Xander, and Adam, however… he’s not so sure.  Yes, he cares for them more than he’ll ever care for anyone again, and his loyalty to them is unwavering, but on his worst days, Harry can’t help but wonder if they would be friends if their connection hadn’t been forged on the basis of what they are, and understanding something that no one else can.  If being vampires hadn’t placed them in each other’s lives and sealed them in a bond of venom and blood, would they even have given the others a second thought?  Would any of them have wanted Harry in their lives?  Harry wants to think yes, but it’s not a question of what he wants; the truth is, Harry is uncertain. 

But when Y/N sits across from him with a smear of ketchup on her bottom lip, smiling softly at Harry as he wipes it off with his thumb, and he can’t stop himself from smiling back, he realizes something that’s never occurred to him before.  He’s able to be cared for by someone who is drawn to him for all the reasons humans are normally drawn to each other, and not because they have a mutual understanding of what it’s like to be an other.

Of course, he knows there’s a certain degree of falsity in that; part of his charm and addictive qualities come from what he is, and Y/N, like any other mortal, isn’t immune to that.  But instead of allowing herself to be driven away by the usual uneasiness that pairs with being so close to a vampire for so long, Y/N is leaning closer to him, laughing as he cracks a bad joke, kissing him over their breakfast, and showing evidence that she— against all odds— wants to know him.  And the thought sends a fluttering below Harry’s ribs. 

He wishes, just for a moment, that he could be capable of feeling the same. He wishes he could have the decency to give this girl the proper relationship she wants, or even the decency to break her heart quickly before she gets too attached to someone incapable of seeing her as anything more than a takeout meal.  He wishes he could get to know her— truly get to know her, without any ulterior motives.

But Harry is vain, self-centered, self-serving, and inconsiderate.  He’s selfish, dishonest, and manipulative.  And he has his fangs too deep in this mortal to let her go. 

///

“Are you sure I can’t pick you up?” Harry slides his phone between his ear and his shoulder in order to snag his keychain from his pocket, fumbling for the right key before inserting it into his locked door. “I can just drop my groceries off and then swing by your cafe, love.  It’s no trouble.”

“No, really, it’s fine, H.” Y/N insists from the other end of the line, her voice nearly drowned out from the roar of L.A. traffic around her. “I already left work, and I’m nearly home.  I’ll be over at your place within, like, forty-five minutes, I think?  I just have to change out of my uniform.”

With his front door now unlocked, Harry grabs his phone from its perch on his shoulder before pushing open the door with his hand full of groceries, stepping inside his apartment and nudging the door shut with his foot. “I know, but it’s a long walk to my place, isn’t it?”

“It’s, like, twenty minutes— practically nothing.  And besides, I have to stop at the post office and mail a letter to my parents.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirks up as he rounds the corner to his kitchen, setting his grocery bags on the island before leaning his hip against the kitchen counter, his now free hand braced against the cool marble. “You still send your parents letters?  Can’t you just call them?” He asks, tapping a ringed finger against the stone.

“If you knew my parents, you’d send letters, too.” Y/N sighs into the speaker, and Harry’s inhuman ears can hear the jangling of her keys in her hand.  He can picture her searching for them like she did the night they met, digging into her purse until she’s elbow deep, her tongue tucked between her teeth in concentration.

Despite the distinctive sound of a lock turning, Harry can’t stop himself from asking about her well-being. He’s so used to doing it with his other friends, it slips out on impulse. “Are you home now?  Made it alright?”

There’s a hint of exasperated amusement in Y/N’s voice when she responds. “Yes, I managed to walk home all by myself.  Didn’t even get murdered.” There’s another thud, and Harry imagines her shutting her door, pushing her weight against it to lock it properly. “I’m pretty good at taking care of myself, you know.  I have good instincts.” 

If she’s allowed him to get this close to her, Harry thinks, then her instincts aren’t exactly the caliber she imagines them to be, but he bites his tongue to stop himself from correcting her. “I’m sure you do, darling.” He murmurs the reply as he opens his fridge to begin stocking it with the items he’d purchased earlier. “Oh, by the way, make sure you’re wearing comfortable shoes, yeah?  We’re going to be doing a bit of walking later.”

“Right.  And you’re not telling me where we’re going because…?”

“Because surprises are fun.”

When Y/N huffs in response, Harry pictures the girl with a scowl on her face, her arms crossed tightly over her tummy as she gives him an endearing glare. “Not when you’re the one who’s being surprised.” 

Still, despite her protests, Harry hears the rustling of clothing as she pulls off her work polo, followed by the clanking of her belt, the snap of a button, and the familiar rustle of her jeans being peeled off her legs. “You just worry about undressing yourself, alright?  It must be difficult, since you’ve grown so used to me doing it for you.”

“Uh huh.  I’m hanging up now.” Y/N deadpans into the phone, but Harry can tell there’s a lingering smile underneath her flat words. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Alright, doll.  See you soon.” Harry sets a carton of eggs in the fridge before closing it, hanging up the call and slipping his phone back into his black slacks.  

It takes Harry a few more minutes to put the rest of his groceries away in his pantry.  He made sure to stock up on all the ingredients needed to make pancakes at the grocery store, as well as picking up a carton of the fancy pomegranate juice that Y/N had mentioned she was fond of.  In fact, as he was wandering the aisles of his local Whole Foods, he’d found himself seeking out the snacks that he’d seen in her cupboards.  He knows that humans need to eat much more often than vampires do, and seeing as how all the activities Y/N engages in at his condo are rather exhausting and energy-burning, he thought she’d need proper fuel.

After he folds the reusable cloth tote bags he’d brought to the grocery store and puts them back in the pantry, Harry climbs up his glass stairs to his bedroom.  He takes a moment to evaluate his appearance in the full length mirror hanging on the back of his door, sweeping over every detail with a careful eye.  His outfit is alright for what he has planned, he decides; his black slacks and scuffed white vans are comfortable, but more importantly, his white t-shirt embossed with a Hollywood Bowl print that clings to the muscles of his inked arms and broad chest, which Harry knows Y/N will enjoy.  His curls, however, need a bit of tending to, and Harry slinks into his bathroom to add a bit more product to his chestnut locks, getting rid of the little frizz that had developed in the L.A. heat in order to fix his curl pattern.  

As for his jewelry, he leaves on his usual rings: his gold initial pieces, his mother’s opal, his ruby, an engraved band, and his lionhead ring, which shines under the bathroom lights thanks to Y/N’s careful efforts the week before.  Once those are secure, he fastens his pearl necklace around his neck, and fixes the clasp of his cross before slipping a plain gold hoop into his pierced ear.  Once he’s satisfied with his accessories, Harry spritzes his favourite cologne across his body, giving his appearance one more look over as he leaves his bathroom and passes the full length mirror in his bedroom again.  

The Rolex on his wrist tells him that Y/N is due over any moment, and he’s just making sure his Gucci wallet is securely tucked in his trouser pocket when Harry’s ears prick up at the sound of two pairs of feet stomping into his condo downstairs.  It only takes him a moment more to identify the intruders based on their step patterns, and a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he checks the time again before sauntering down the stairs.

“And just what do you two,” Harry calls to his unexpected friends as he rounds the corner of the stairs, his eyebrow quirked in question as he steps down from the last platform, “think you’re doing here?”

“We wanted some change in scenery.” Niall quips sarcastically, emerging from the end of the entrance corridor with his hands in his pockets, shoulders shrugging casually. “And I told Xander you might be shirtless, which got him to tag along. But you’re not, much to his disappointment. Though I do think the way you’re about to burst out of that tee suffices. Isn’t that right, Xanny?” 

“That’s not true!” Xander snaps hotly, his cheeks blazing and glare electric as Niall cackles boyishly, stepping around him and towards the kitchen, like he always does when he walks into Harry’s apartment. The tanned man glowers at the other vampire as he makes a beeline for Harry’s refrigerator, slowly pinning his gaze back onto the owner of the condo. He clears his throat awkwardly before offering a solid explanation for their sudden visit. “Adam cancelled on pub trivia night, so we thought you might be available instead.”

Harry shakes his head with a sigh as he makes his way into the kitchen, as well— mostly to make sure Niall doesn’t reach for any of the expensive liquors he has arranged on his bar shelves; they took too long to collect for him to just allow a single person to down one bottle like a shot— and leans both elbows against the marble island. “Sorry, mate.  I’ve got a date with Y/N.”

“So bring her.” Niall pipes up from the fridge, a stolen bottle of Harry’s favourite beer already in his hand. Harry doesn’t complain— it’s a better substitute than his forty year aged scotch. “She went to uni, didn’t she?  She must be smart.”

“I’ve got better things planned for us than pub trivia with two obnoxious knobheads.” Harry retorts, his lips tugging into a smirk at Niall’s responding eyeroll. “That’s not very romantic, is it?  Taking her on a double date with you two?”

“And that’s not very nice, H. I’m offended you wouldn’t go on a double date with Xander and I.” The Irishman sniffles with fake sincerity, biting the bottle cap off his beer despite knowing that Harry keeps a bottle opener in the kitchen drawer to his right. 

Xander watches the spectacle with distaste, his nose wrinkling as Niall spits the cap from his mouth into his hand. “And I’m offended you’d think I’d date someone who does that.”

“It’s not like you have standards.”

“Hey!”

“But then again, no one sets a bar the way I do.”

“The only bar you set for me was potential alcoholism.” Xander mutters spitefully.

“I’d make a great boyfriend.” Niall interrupts with airy confidence, ignoring his friends bickering and taking a deep swig of his beverage, smacking his lips appreciatively. “But humans are too fragile to keep around for long, and most vampires are fucking psychotic. Unfortunately.”

“What about Charlotte?” Harry suggests nonchalantly, hooking his index finger into the cabinet beneath him and fishing for a coaster. He shuts the drawer and skims the item across the top of the counter towards Niall, just in case the man wants to put his glass container down. This is real marble, after all. “She seems pretty tame.” 

Niall glances at the coaster, but doesn’t make any conscious effort to set his drink down. Harry should’ve known; Niall isn’t one to put a pint down until it’s empty, but the possibility is there, nonetheless. It’s not his fault he likes taking care of his home. 

Niall sighs through his nose dismissively, following it with a light rattle of his head. “Charlotte’s too...smart. She’s a bit out of my league, and I feel like she’d get bored of me easily. Also, how would you know if she’s tame or not? You rarely hang out whenever she’s around.” 

“That’s because she hates me.” Harry states flatly, as if it should be obvious. And it should, considering the young woman had not held back on expressing her strong dislike towards the curly brunette. Harry has thick skin and words never hurt him, but Charlotte has a surprisingly vicious vocabulary; if he hadn’t been amused by her anger, she would have come pretty close to genuinely chipping his ego. 

Niall chortles softly. “Well, I mean, you can’t really blame her, can you? You’re kind of a prick.”

“A proper asshole, actually.” Xander chimes in, drumming his digits against the table’s surface and giving Harry a bright, innocent smile. 

The immortal momentarily casts his eyes towards the ceiling in mild annoyance. “Yeah, well, that’s just the way I am. If her and Miss Billy Ray Cyrus can’t handle some dark humor and dirty banter, that’s not my problem. Everyone else seems to like me just fine.” 

“That’s debatable.” Xander corrects. 

“You’re just mad I fucked you once and decided that was enough.” 

“Anywho,” Niall interferes, waving around his beer in order to catch his friends’ attention and prevent a catastrophic World War V, he proceeeds to swivel the topic back onto himself, “like I said, I’d make a great partner. I’m funny, I’ve got a whole shelf full of PS4 games, I like to think my oral skills are pretty decent, and—”

“Have you ever made a girl wet her sheets?” Harry prods with entertained curiosity, cocking an eyebrow questioningly.

Niall pauses mid-sentence with his drink perched to his lips, eyes flitting around thoughtfully as he shovels through cluttered memories of drunken one night stands and fleeting relationships. He relents with a sheepish scoff, shoulders sagging. “...No.”

“Then you’re not as skilled as you think.” Harry remarks passively, titling his head to the side with finality. “And I’m willing to bet Mitch’s next stock of O negative that eighty percent of your hookups probably faked it.” 

“Oi, bet, then.” Niall snorts, grinning around the spout of his beverage as he finishes his sip. He wiggles his brows playfully, squaring his shoulders proudly. “You can’t fake a leg-shake, darling.” 

“A leg-shake?” Harry inquires carefully, pursing his lips to keep from sputtering into pompous laughter. “You mean like this?” He then proceeds to dramatically buckle his right leg, immediately debunking Niall’s ridiculous theory. “Just like that?” 

The Irish bloke’s face drops into a scorned scowl as Xander and Harry break into a round of mocking giggles. He draws into himself with childish pettiness, narrowing his eyes pointedly. “Piss off.”

“Unless she couldn’t walk right afterwards, you didn’t really do what you think you did, Ni.” 

“It seemed pretty real to me!” The blue-eyed boy rebuttals sharply, cheeks tinging bright pink in embarrassment. 

“That’s the point.” 

“This is precisely why I’d never entertain a relationship with you, even as a joke.” Xander pipes up towards Niall, smirking cruelly at his friend’s bruised ego. “I like my orgasms to be real, and I’m not willing to put up an act to spare your fragile masculinity.” 

“Your dick’s probably small, anyways.” 

“Bigger than yours.”

“Is that a challenge? I’ll pull it out right now, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Well,” Harry cuts in loudly, not necessarily keen on watching two grown men compare penis sizes in the middle of his home, “it seems you two have some issues to work out, so the double date is a moot point, anyways.” His jade eyes flicker to his watch again; Y/N should nearly be here, and he doesn’t want these two goons present when she arrives— especially not with their balls out. That wouldn’t be a decent introduction, despite being an unforgettable one. “So I’ll talk to you two later, then.  Thanks for stopping by.”

“Hold up, I practically just cracked my beer.” Niall whines in return, holding up the chilled bottle in protest, leaning his backside against the marble countertop with a decisive motion. “Y’can’t kick us out yet.”

Harry laughs once, the noise sounding more strained than he would like. “Seeing as how I didn’t invite you over, I think I can.” He retorts, tapping a jeweled finger against the table. 

“The blood bag isn’t even here yet,” Xander reasons as he pulls out a chair from the kitchen island, taking a seat and making himself at home as if Harry hadn’t just told him to get the fuck out. “So what's the rush?”

The hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickles at the crude nickname, and the older vampire shoots daggers at the younger as he pushes himself off the marble counter. “There isn’t one, except I think hearing herself be referred to as ‘the blood bag’ may make her a little suspicious, don’t you?”

“We’ve referred to her as worse.” Xander shrugs offhandedly, kicking his feet up onto the bar stool next to him.

Harry’s brows furrow as he pushes Xander’s shoes off his furniture, dusting the leather cushion off. “Referred to her as what?  And when?”

Although Xander lifts one shoulder again as a vague answer, Niall smacks his lips loudly once again as he swallows the rest of the beer, and answers in a matter-of-fact tone. “In Vegas, after you ditched us to get your dick wet.  I think Xander called her a fuckable slab of kobe beef, and—”

“I said ribeye, actually.  Nice flavour, but a little chewy.” Xander corrects the Irishman, but has the decency to look halfway embarrassed when he catches Harry’s stony glare. “And it’s not like we’re wrong, right?  That’s all humans are.”

Niall gives an affirmative nod as he sets his empty bottle down on the marble counter, completely ignoring the coaster Harry had slid to him. “Don’t take it personally, H.  Xanny refers to his own dates as McDonald’s Happy Meal Twinks— at least a ribeye steak is expensive.”

“I’m not taking it personally.” Harry mutters the words in a low voice as his jaw twitches, tensing under the sunlight streaming through his floor-to-ceiling windows. “But comments like these are why you pricks need to get out of here before she shows up, or else I’ll be feeding from one of you tonight.”

A beat of silence falls between the three vampires as the palpable tension flowing off of Harry thickens the room.  Xander and Niall glance between each other and Harry, hardly able to hold the latter’s eyes, before Niall offers a small comment.

“I don’t think Xander would mind that, really—”

“Out.” Harry points a jeweled finger at the entrance corridor with a firm motion. “Both of you.  Go bother Mitch.”

He can see the disappointment and frustration that lingers on Niall and Xander’s faces, but neither of them fight him as they rise from their perches in the kitchen and walk dejectedly to the front door.  Harry briefly entertains the idea of walking them out, but decides against it; there’s a strange buzzing sensation rising through his ribs, and he’s not quite sure what he’ll say as he bids his friends— he has to remind himself that, yes, they’re his friends— goodbye.  It’s safer, he thinks, if he stays where he is and cleans up the mess that they managed to leave behind in their short visit. 

He comes to regret that decision, however, approximately three milliseconds after he hears the front door creak open, and a familiar but unexpected voice echos down the entrance hallway.

“Oh— hi.  Sorry, I may have the wrong apartment…?”

Harry freezes with Niall’s empty beer bottle clutched in his hand, his grip contracting so hard that he hears the thick glass begin to splinter.

“No, no, this is Harry’s apartment.  We were just leaving.” The grin on Niall’s face is audible underneath his Irish accent. “You must be Y/N.”

“I am, yeah.” Harry can hear the tiny thread of surprise at him recognizing her in the human’s words, and the even tinier thread of pleasure that undercuts it.  “And you must be...Niall, I think?  And Xander?”

Niall’s smug reply grates against Harry’s frozen skin, even from down the corridor. “Harry’s told you about us, huh?  Only good things, I hope.”

“Oh, I—”

Harry forces his legs to move with inhuman speed, the beer bottle not even having hit the marble counter by the time Harry appears at Niall and Xander’s shoulders. “Hi, darling.” He says through a strained smile, digging his stony fingers into the back of the two vampire’s arms, an unspoken warning of behave. “Y’made it alright, then?”

When Y/N shines a warm— albeit, slightly confused— smile in his direction, Harry wishes that he’d been faster in shooing his friends out the door, because the action nearly knocks the unrequired breath from his chest.  

She’d dressed in comfortable and casual clothes, as per his suggestion, and is standing just outside the doorway in light washed denim overalls, with a black and white striped t-shirt layered underneath, and her familiar cotton candy pink vans on her feet.  But the detail that digs its way to the forefront of his mind— more so than her satin lips, her heated cheeks that are appled with her smile, and the tousled locks that are pulled back from her face in a low ponytail— is the shining silver cross pendant that hangs on a chain around her smooth neck.

It’s a new addition that Harry has never seen before, and while he knows he shouldn’t be surprised— after all, she’d told him how she grew up in a religious town, how she’d attended church, how she used to say grace before dinner with her friends— the jewelry still piques his curiosity.

“I did, yeah.  It’s really not that long of a walk, H.” Y/N replies, flicking her eyes between Harry and his two friends, who are still watching her every move as if she’s a specimen to be observed. “Sorry, am I interrupting…?”

The Irishman with glasses— Niall, Y/N reminds herself— opens his mouth to respond, but Harry quickly cuts him off as he pushes past his mates to take Y/N’s hand and step outside the apartment, fetching his keys and yellow sunglasses from the small side table by the door in one smooth motion.

“Not interrupting anything, doll.  Niall and Xander were just on their way out.” Although Harry is smiling at her throughout the comment, the mortal can’t help but feel like the last phrase was aimed at the pair still lingering in the doorway.

“We were just stopping by to see if we could steal Harry for a last minute trivia game, but he said he was already booked.” Niall answers with an accepting shrug, glancing at Xander next to him, who’s still yet to say anything to Y/N, though he is carrying an unreadable empty expression as he gives the girl a calculating once-over. “Apparently, whatever he’s got planned for you two is more interesting than a few beers and watching Xander struggle to remember all the battles in World War I—”

“That’s not fair,” The brunette finally chimes in, breaking his attention away from her body to meet the blue-eyed boy’s gaze. Y/N is surprised to hear an American accent fall from his lips. “I’m the only one who wasn’t there, so how would I know—?”

“And you two are already arguing,” Harry cuts over his friends’ bickering, shooting them an annoyed glance as he wraps a cool arm around her waist, cautioning them to watch what they’re saying. “Which will only get worse once you get alcohol in your hands, and that is why I’m not going to subject Y/N to a headache-inducing night of torture.” 

Y/N looks up at Harry with innocent interest swirling in her eyes. “I don’t know, H, it could be fun.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as a crease forms between Harry’s brows. “Don’t you think?”

Niall catches Harry’s eye, taking advantage of Y/N’s distraction to cheekily flash him his crimson irises for a split second, voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm that only he can detect. “Yeah, Harry. Don’t you think?”

Jaw tensing, Harry bends down to brush his lips over Y/N’s ear, dampening his irritation down into a smooth and silky tone. “Don’t try to spare their feelings, love.  I’ve got something fun planned for us, I promise.” His teeth graze against Y/N’s skin, and he nearly drags his lips down towards her neck until he remembers her stuttering heartbeat can be heard by the other vampires in their presence.

The two creatures gawk at the image before them, utterly baffled at Harry’s unusual tenderness. It’s very out of character for him, that much is obvious. In all the decades Niall and Xander have been acquainted with the Victorian era immortal, neither have ever seen him be so gentle and touchy with another soul, let alone a human. It feels as if they’re looking at some type of warped parallel universe version of the normally stand-offish young man. 

Xander is the first to clear his throat, throwing Harry an annoyed grimace before pulling Niall out from the condo’s entryway. “We’ll see you later then, Harry.  C’mon, Ni.”

The Irishman offers a quick goodbye, gifting the strange girl a frail wave and a parting smile before being half-dragged down the hallway by Xander. Niall wrenches himself free and shoves Xander’s shoulder playfully as they round the corner to the elevator, their quiet voices— no doubt spinning juvenile gossip— fading out of earshot.  The look in Xander’s eyes had been concerning, Harry thinks, but nothing he needs to worry about right now.  If anything, he wants to forget that encounter as quickly as possible, and needs Y/N to forget it, too.

“So,” he pastes an easygoing grin onto his face as he locks his front door, turning to the mortal with a giddy twinkle in his forest green eyes. “Shall we be off, then?”

There’s a lingering look of confusion reflecting back at him, but Y/N doesn’t press the odd encounter as Harry intertwines his icy fingers with her own warm digits. 

“Alright.” She agrees, raising a questioning eyebrow back at him. “And just where are we going?”

///

“The Los Angeles Antique Mall.” Harry announces proudly when he opens Y/N’s door, extending a ringed hand to help her out of his low-riding car. “Twenty thousand square feet of vintage collectables, artwork, furniture, and anything else you could possibly want.”

Y/N stares up at the massive building in front of them, observing the worn wood facade and the collection of what seems to be (half faded) stained rocking chairs adorning the wraparound porch.  There’s also an impressive amount of wrought iron planters with various greenery scattered between the furniture, with groups of people milling between them as they enter and exit the giant mall. 

“You brought me antiquing?” She asks, an bemused look in her eye as she turns to Harry for an explanation. 

Wrapping his large grasp around her smaller one, Harry nods enthusiastically as he begins to lead her towards the door. “Yeah.  It’s fun, actually.  I’m always up for a bit of a treasure hunt, and I thought, since you’re still furnishing your apartment…”

“You know, now that you mention it… I could use some new curtains for my living room.  Maybe a nice side table.” Y/N allows, stepping over the wooden stairs to the door as Harry tugs her along. “But I’m surprised you like antiquing.  Doesn’t really seem like your thing, if I’m honest.”

A mischievous glint flits through Harry’s jade eyes as he treats her to a grin that’s all teeth. “I’m actually quite fond of antiques, truth be told.  I’ve got a good eye for vintage collectables.  And…” He lazily tugs on the handle of the door to open it, stepping to the side to allow Y/N to walk through first. “Maybe we’ll find a nice painting to replace that god awful tapestry in your bedroom.”

A scoff of indignation falls from Y/N’s mouth as she turns on her heel to punch Harry’s sturdy upper arm, nearly getting too distracted by the ropes of muscle beneath his tight sleeve to give a response. “I like that tapestry!  And, seeing as how you’re either sleeping or fucking me when you’re in said room, I’m a little offended that my tapestry is the thing you focus the most on.”

Harry bites his bottom lip between his teeth.  If only she knew how much time he actually spends staring at it. 

“Well, there’s certainly other things I focus on…” He replies with a casual air, slipping his hand into the back pocket of Y/N’s overalls to cup her ass suggestively, guiding her along the aisles of antiques. “But nothing ruins a post-orgasm glow like poor interior design, sweetheart. S’a bit of a buzzkill, y’know?”

“So is being patronized.” Y/N deadpans, extracting Harry’s hand from her back pocket as a hot flash begins to creep up her spine. “You keep mocking my interior design choices, and your orgasms are going to get a lot less frequent.”

The vampire belly laughs as he throws an arm around her shoulders, the action as natural to him as breathing once was. “I don’t believe that for one fucking second.” He replies gleefully, smudging an open mouthed kiss to Y/N’s temple. 

“You don’t, huh?” The human girl raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to scan the towering racks of oddities all around them. “I wonder if we can find you a vintage fleshlight here?”

“Already got one, doll,” Harry rolls his eyes as he brushes his cool fingers along Y/N’s exposed collarbone, his eyes catching the cross pendant again and brimming with curiosity. “And it’s just the tip of the iceberg that is my toy chest, y’know that—” 

Y/N feels Harry’s arm suddenly tense around her, his muscles contracting as his touch jolts away from her collarbones, his hand flexing beneath the open skylights of the building. “Everything okay?” Y/N asks, all her teasing fading away, replaced with concern as she pauses her steps toward the shelves. 

“I—” Harry flexes his fingers again, slowly removing his arm from her shoulder to examine his hand.  The tips of his fingers are a bright red, crimson burns contrasting against his pink skin, and although it only takes a few moments for the marks to fade, the uneasy feeling bubbling in Harry’s stomach lasts. “Yeah.  My, uh, my hand just cramped.  But it’s fine now, I think.”

Who the fuck, he wonders as he cautiously slings his arm back around Y/N’s shoulders, wears a cross made of, not silver as Harry originally suspected, but polished iron?  

Iron jewelry had fallen out of fashion a century ago, and Harry had never been more thankful than when it did, given how his flesh scorches at merely brushing the metal. When he took his family’s trinkets as a way to remember them before he had to leave, Harry had snuck into his father’s forge in the dead of the night to dip the jewelry in gold that he’d stolen from a local merchant who cheated poor peasants out of their valuables.  It had been a tedious task, and rather dangerous due to the threat of being caught, but it had also been necessary; if he hadn’t taken the risk, he wouldn’t have his sister’s cross earring, or his father’s matching cross necklace.  His dad’s pocket watch, luckily, had been made of silver, and didn’t need a golden bath, but everything else had to be encased to protect Harry’s skin.  

Iron jewelry had been a deterrent to him in the years to come after he was turned; it wasn’t uncommon for him to find a pretty young girl from a village and sneak her away for a night of fun, only to discover an iron chain dangling from her neck when he leaned in to take a bite.  It wasn’t a permanent problem, of course, as there were plenty of other soft places he could sink his teeth into, but it had been an annoyance then, and it still annoys him now. 

Harry does his best to push the irritation to the back of his mind, he really does.  He shows Y/N around the twisting maze of antiques, and does his best to showcase one of his favourite hideaways in L.A.  He points to anything and everything that could interest her, and doesn’t hesitate when she asks him to reach something heavy perched on a high shelf, even if she just wants to examine it out of curiosity.  Harry pulls out typewriters, vintage cameras, tarnished cigarette lighters, and a pastel yellow bicycle with an attached wicker basket from 1941, presenting all of the objects with the enthusiasm of a showcase model on The Price is Right, spouting falsified information about each product in the best impression of Bob Barker he can pull off (“This ancient, rusted bicycle— once owned by the Queen of England herself— can be all yours for just one easy payment of $8.99! Taxes and shipping not included.”). 

And although all of that incites multiple tinkling laughs from Y/N, and lights a glimmer in her eye, and compels her to walk closer and closer to Harry until she lets him sneak his palm back into the backside pocket of her overalls, the mystery of her necklace still eats at the far end of his brain. And it’s that insipid, insistent pest of a thought that causes Harry to readjust his grip on the framed Monet print he’d spotted in the racks (Y/N had tried to deny how much she liked it in order to thwart Harry’s triumphant smirk, but she still asked him to grab it for her with a grumble) and spare another glance to the innocent looking cross resting atop her clavicle. 

“That’s a pretty little piece.” Harry slips into a nonchalant tone with ease, nodding towards the necklace as he navigates the two of them around a corner. “Why have I never seen you wear it before?”

Y/N brushes her fingertips over the iron cross with a gentle motion.  Her fingers don’t scorch with a mere graze of the metal, Harry notes scathingly.  Not that he expected it from someone like Y/N. 

“Because I don’t wear it often.” She replies, lifting one shoulder without a second thought. “It was my grandmother’s— not, like, originally, but she’d owned it, and gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, so I guess it counts as a family heirloom, huh?”

“Guess so.” The vampire murmurs in agreement, prickles of wonder still coasting against his skin. “So what made you drag it out today?” Did you subconsciously realize that your neck needs protection when I’m near? Harry tacks on in his head, his brow furrowing at the troubling thought. 

And at that question, Y/N’s eyes drop to the floor, as if her bubblegum pink vans need an audience for every step they take. “Uh, I was just a little homesick, that’s all.” She mumbles the reply, her shoulders sagging as a dark shadow passes through her usually dazzling eyes. 

Homesickness.  The one human feeling that Harry can still relate to. “I’m sorry to hear that, darling.” He removes his hand from her back pocket to wind it around her shoulders again, mindful of the jewelry in question. “Did anything in particular happen, or…?”

Y/N lifts her shoulders once again as she tucks her hands into her pockets, her posture closing off more and more with every passing moment. “Not really.  I don’t know, I— normally I’m fine, but when I addressed my letter to my parents today, it took me a moment to remember my ZIP code.  It’s the same ZIP code I’ve had all my life, but… I nearly forgot it.” She glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, and Harry realizes that dark shadow is guilt.  She feels guilty. “I’ve been in L.A. for less than six months, and almost forgot my parent’s ZIP code.  I didn’t think that could ever happen.”

Harry hums low in his throat, a noise of understanding and finality.  It’s homesickness, that’s all.  That’s explainable, and understandable, and should be enough information to silence the gnawing irritation in his chest. 

And yet...

“Do you believe in God?” The question escapes from Harry’s mouth before he can even think to censor it, his own eyes widening on his behalf as his grip on the Monet print nearly releases from the surprise. 

“What?” Y/N stops in her tracks, although she nearly stumbles forward when Harry’s sturdy arm catches behind her shoulders as her eyes boggle at him. “I don’t— what does God have to do with antiquing?”

If Harry didn’t have to worry about digging himself out of the whole he created, he’d laugh at the incredulous expression on his lover’s face. “I was just curious, s’all.” He struggles to keep his voice casual, steadying his feet against the wooden floor in an effort to ground himself mentally. “I know you were raised with religion, but you don’t really go to church here— not that church equals a belief, but—”

“Um, I don’t…” Y/N extends her arm to let her fingers graze over the shelf of old lunch boxes next to them, feeling each dip of every embossed cartoon character. “I don’t know.  I don’t really believe in, like, a concept of God— at least, not the one I was raised with.  But I believe in…” She trails off as she attempts to gather her thoughts, chewing on her bottom lip absentmindedly as she searches for the right words. “Something.  I don’t really know if it’s a deity, or an energy, or just coincidence, but… I think there’s something out there that guides us.”

“So you believe in souls.” Harry’s mouth presses into a flat line, his jaw clenching for just a moment as he grits his teeth and then reiterates her previous point. “The thing that allows us to be guided, that is.” 

Or allows her to be guided, Harry thinks bitterly, casting his eyes towards their path ahead of them to avoid Y/N’s prying gaze. That’s really the only reason he’d brought up this entire religion conversation— the only reason he ever brings it up: he wants to know if she believes in souls, because in order to be guided by whatever higher power supposedly exists, one needs a soul.  And Harry’s fairly certain his was stolen from him in 1837. 

“I suppose.” Y/N allows, tracing the embossed lettering of a vintage Wonder Woman lunch box. “A soul, an energy, an aura— they’re all kind of the same thing to me.  The thing that keeps your heart beating.  I don’t think it needs to be tied to a religion; there’s so many different religions, but everyone has a heartbeat, you know?”

Harry nearly laughs out loud at the irony, but manages to stifle the sound into a non-committal hum. “Does your something include heaven and hell, or is that too based in Christianity?” He asks, half out of curiosity and half out of necessity. “If someone were to lose their soul…” He knows he sounds insane asking the question, but it bubbles out of him before he can choke it back. “Would you think them damned?”

The mortal girl stares at him blankly for a moment, her mouth just barely open as she considers his words.  He shouldn’t have asked, and he knows that— he knew it the moment the first question fell from his lips.  But the more they discussed the topic, the more it nagged at him.  Y/N, with all her good nature, her listening skills, and her soft heart, are most certainly bound for whatever good lies in store when a soul actually leaves a body.  Harry, on the other hand… If the monster’s conscience were to ever leave this Earth, he knows it’s not for the metaphorical pearly white gates. And for some reason, that notion bothers him more right now than it has in the last twenty decades.

“Um…” A nervous laugh echoes from Y/N’s mouth, the smile curling the edges of her lips not quite reaching her eyes. “Okay, this topic is way too serious for me to discuss sober.  Can I take a rain check on the damnation questions?  I’m getting Sunday school flashbacks, and living through that once was bad enough.”

Harry wills a smile onto his own face, but the expression is more apologetic than anything as he grips Y/N’s hand in his to tow her down an aisle of antique kitchen equipment. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you with such heavy questions. I guess I just wanted to get to know my partner in justice a bit more.” 

Y/N takes it in good stride, just as she usually does, her smile relaxing the moment she sees Harry’s dimples peek out from his cheeks. “Don’t worry about it, Sherlock.  I’d expect nothing less from such an established detective.”

As the pair pass under another skylight, Y/N’s cross glints at Harry as if to mock him. 

///

Y/N isn’t lost.

To the untrained eye, the mindless path she takes through the towering and twisting rows of the antique mall may seem like the wandering of someone who has no recollection of where they came from, nor where they’re going, but Y/N is adamant that she isn’t lost.  She isn’t, because when she split from Harry to take a trip to the washroom, he’d warned her not to get lost in the internal maze of the mall.  And Y/N, with a glare in her eyes and a scathing remark on her lips, had assured him that she, a grown woman, would be able to find her way back after she was done, and “Honestly, H, just wander a bit.  I’ll be able to find you easily.”

So Y/N isn’t lost, because she refuses to prove Harry right.  He’s already a cocky asshole with a huge ego, and she couldn’t bear seeing that ego enlarge as a triumphant smirk paints over his face the moment she calls him on his cellphone, admits defeat, and asks him to come find her.  She’ll do a lot of things for that man, but that isn’t one of them.

With that in mind, she turns down a corridor of the labyrinth of collectables, trying to find any discernible items that she could use to pinpoint her location in the labyrinth.  The yellow bicycle, maybe, or one of the vintage cameras Harry had pretended to photograph her with, or even the strange five foot carving of Bugs Bunny that she and Harry had agreed is probably possessed by a demon.  A haunted Bugs Bunny could lead her to her destination— or kill her, truthfully, but either option seems preferable over the solidifying future of having to call Harry.

After another five minutes of aimless ambling, Y/N retrieves her phone from her pocket, a grimace crawling its way onto her face as she opens her contacts to click on Harry’s name.  Her finger hovers just over the phone icon, mere millimetres from humiliation, when a few out of place piano notes float by her ears and catch her attention.

Y/N tucks her phone back into her overall pocket as her curiosity takes over, urging her ears to strain towards the distant melody, as well as for her legs to follow. It’s not long before Y/N is walking with purpose again, albeit a different purpose than before.  As the music gets louder, Y/N begins to pick out more details— how the piano notes that prick her ears are slightly out of tune, how the player begins and stops and begins again, dragging out different phrases, speeding through others with no clear intention.  The minor key of the piece makes Y/N feel like she’s walking into a memory as she wades through the shelves of long-forgotten belongings, old photographs of deceased people in Victorian fashions watching while the young woman falls back in time.

The music grows louder as Y/N reaches a dark corridor with wood paneling lining the walls, and a painted sign saying “Music Room” beckons her down the passageway.  She follows with slow steps, and while she knows that maybe leaving the main mall area and losing her way down here isn’t a smart idea, the music that’s beginning to grow impossibly sweet pulls her forward.  Y/N rounds the corner to find the oak doors to the music room swung open, and when she lays her eyes on the figure sitting at the mahogany ground piano, she recognizes the silhouette of Harry’s back and shoulders immediately.

Y/N’s gaze falls from his flexing shoulder blades to his inked hands, the jewels on his rings catching the low light of the room as his lithe fingers dance over the dusty ivory keys.  He coaxes a melody from the instrument without any difficulty, as if the music had been simmering beneath his skin for ages.  Maybe it has, Y/N thinks, as she watches from the doorway with quiet wonder, and although she plans on silently observing for as long as she can, Harry only completes a few more phrases before the music drifts to a halt.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d find me.” He murmurs, clearing his throat of the rasp that had settled in his vocal chords as he played. “Thought I’d be getting a scared phone call any moment now.”

The human girl steps into the room slowly, gliding around to the cut out of the piano and leaning across the lacquered wood. “I wasn’t scared.  And I would’ve found you sooner if you’d stayed put. I said wander a bit, not all the way across the building.” She retorts jokingly, trailing a finger along the smooth edge of the piano. All of the sarcasm in her voice melts right out, replaced by intrigue. “I didn’t know you played piano.”

“I, uh, I don’t.  Not much anymore, anyways.” Harry runs his digits between the keys again, using only enough pressure to dust the top of the ivory covers. “I wasn’t sure I’d remember how, honestly, but this…” He lifts an index finger to brush the dust off the gold embossed brand name. “It looks like the one I learned on, so…”

Y/N takes a seat on the wooden bench next to Harry, her shoulder bumping against his as she leans in to smudge a kiss across his cheek. “It sounded beautiful.” She assures him, noting the hesitation in his explanation. “What’s that piece called?”

“It’s one of Chopin’s Nocturnes, in C-Sharp Minor.” Harry curves his fingers over the keys, as if he’s about to begin again, but then relaxes the digits as he exhales harshly. “I don’t play it as well as— as the person who taught me.”

There seems to be a hidden story beneath those words, but Y/N doesn’t press it; if Harry wants to tell her, then he’ll tell her.  If not… Well, she’d rather not drag a sour memory from him in the middle of an antique mall.  Instead, she drags her fingers over his thigh, rubbing just above his knee in a comforting manner. 

“How long have you been playing?” She asks softly, tracing over a black lacquered key with her free hand.  When she pulls away, her finger is coated in dust, and she wonders how long it’s been since the piano has been touched by someone else.

The corner of Harry’s lips twitch, as if her question is particularly humorous. “A while.” He answers simply, and he tilts his head to the side to press his face against the top of Y/N’s head, inhaling the scent of her favourite shampoo. 

“A while?” Y/N repeats the vague answer to prompt further explanation, but when she gets none, she switches to another inquiry. “Can you play me something?”

The moment she utters the question, Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No, I— no.  I’m not that good, love, and I don’t really play for people.”

Surprise colors Y/N’s voice when she replies, lifting her head from Harry’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “This isn’t the time for false modesty, H.” She says, tapping two fingers against his knee as punctuation. “Since when have you been humble?”

A bark of a laugh escapes Harry’s chest in spite of himself, and he curls his fingers over Y/N’s to move her hand further up his thigh. “I’m not modest!  Don’t insult me like that, darling.  S’not nice.”

“Prove it, then.” Y/N massages over Harry’s inner thigh as she issues the challenge, baiting the vampire’s ego with ease. “Play me something.  Show off a little bit.”

Harry squeezes Y/N’s hand once as a quiet groan twists his lips into a pout. “You’re getting pretty good at manipulating me, y’know that?” He mutters, poising his lacquered fingertips back over the instrument. “Fine.  Do you want something sad or happy?”

Y/N ponders the question as she leans her head back onto Harry’s shoulder, her lips finding the edge of his jaw and pecking his cool skin for just a moment. “Both.”

“Both.” Harry repeats with a snort, shaking his head in exasperation as his hands drift to a new position on the keys. “Indecisive little thing, aren’t you?”

The mortal girl lifts her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, scratching her nails along the fabric of Harry’s pants. “Just play me something.  Please?”

It’s the simplest request with the most complicated implication, but Harry can’t find a good reason to refuse it. 

“This is, um, another Chopin piece.” He feels clumsy in his explanation, struggling to remember the details that he’d once memorized in an effort to seem impressive. “Another Nocturne, in E-flat this time.”

Harry’s fingers begin to dance over the keys, and Y/N listens in amazement as a melody that is both happy and sad begins to spiral out from the body of the piano, wrapping her inside the warmth of the music.  

Not every phrase is even— the more Harry plays, it seems, the more the music phrases, bending and shaping itself around his elegant fingers, rolling with his every movement.  As the music begins to get sadder, however, Y/N notices the change in Harry’s face, and how each phrase begins to get choppier as his fingers stumble their way over the keys. 

Y/N smudges another kiss against Harry’s jaw when his fingers trip up again, squeezing his knee with reassurance. “Keep going.” She murmurs, rubbing his leg lightly as the music stutters again. “It’s nice.”

“I—” The music halts with a jerk of Harry’s hands, which he retracts from the keys as if the ivory burns him. “I don’t remember the rest.” He mumbles, laying his stubbled cheek against the top of Y/N’s head. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.  I really liked it.” Y/N trails her own fingers over the keys, pressing a few of the lacquered notes with idle interest.  The melody she spins out isn’t nearly as nice as the one Harry played, and she laughs at her own expense. “I’m not nearly as good.  I took a few lessons as a kid, but begged my mom to let me quit.  I wish I’d stuck with it.”

“That wasn’t too bad.” Harry’s dimples wink at her as he smiles boyishly, nodding to the keys with false reassurance. “That little tune sounded a lot like Mozart.”

“Uh huh.” The mortal girl rolls her eyes at the lie, bracing her palms against the polished wooden bench before rising from her seat. “Despite that praise, I don’t think I’ll be adding this piano to my shopping cart.” 

“Hm.  Too bad.” Her lover trails his fingers after her, reaching for her hand and intertwining her grasp with his. “It could make a pretty addition to your apartment, I think.”

“It would take up my entire apartment, more like it.” Y/N scoffs as she raps the fingers of her free hand against the side of the piano. “I don’t even think I could fit this in my living room.  Your apartment, however…” She raises an eyebrow as a grin works its way over her face. “You could fit it easily.  You should buy it.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he lets her hand fall from his palm, touching the keys one last time before shutting the cover over the keyboard. “I’m not buying the piano.”

“Why not?” Eyes widening in surprise, Y/N leans onto the instrument, gesturing with her arms the same way Harry did earlier as she shifts her voice to mimic Bob Barker. “It’s made of genuine mahogany, was once played by Beethoven himself, and can be yours, for the low, low price of—” She reaches around the side of the instrument to grab the tag tied around the leg. “Eight hundred and—holy shit, are you kidding me?”

Harry hums in response as he rises from the bench, shrugging his shoulders before crossing his arms around his tummy. “That’s actually a fairly good price for a used piano, you know.” 

Y/N blinks at him, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to find words. “I— okay, yeah.  Sure.  So you should get it, then, if you consider that a ‘fairly good price’.” 

“I could,” Harry agrees, his muscles flexing beneath his tight t-shirt as he reaches to pick up the painting leaning against the instrument. “But I won’t.”

Her brow wrinkling in confusion, Y/N watches as Harry begins to examine the other objects in the room, turning his attention to the book-lined shelves and antique lamps. “Why?” 

The man sighs as he fingers the tassels hanging from a— in Y/N’s humble opinion— particularly ugly lamp. “Because I already have one—”

“You do?”

“—but it’s been in storage ever since I got to L.A. And while I usually love things in excess… alcohol, statement jewelry, orgasms—” He flashes a toothy grin at Y/N. “I don’t think overly-heavy instruments fall into any of those categories.”

“Why is it in storage?” Y/N asks, bemusement laced through her voice.  Before Harry began to stumble through the piece, there was a look on his face that Y/N hasn’t seen very often; a serene air swirled through his eyes, hiding something beneath it that Y/N couldn’t quite make out.  And she wants to. 

“Because I don’t have any interest in playing anymore.  Honestly, darling, I haven’t thought about it in years.” Harry laughs in a nonchalant manner, moving from the antique lamp to the creaking rocking chair in the corner. “Y’can have it, if you like.  Probably do you more good than me.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the deflection, turning her attention away from the topic at hand. “I’m good.” She responds dryly, drifting over to the floor to ceiling bookshelf bolted to the wall. 

Her eyes trail over the exposed spines of the books, reading over the variety of titles with piqued interest.  The amount of genres she sees is countless, ranging from trashy paperback romance novels to timeless classics embossed in gold.  The farther up Y/N glances, the older the books appear, and she gets more and more curious as she glides her fingers over the rippled covers of the books within her reach.

While the novels climb up the height of the bookshelf to the ceiling, Y/N can only manage to reach halfway up the length she needs to, even while stretching on her tiptoes.  She settles down on the balls of her feet with a pout playing on her lips, her attention turning to the wheeled ladder that runs along bars bolted to the bottom of the shelving unit.  It looks rather old— like everything in the antique mall— and Y/N isn’t quite sure it’ll support her weight, despite her test of gripping a rung and pushing on it.

“Harry, c’mere,” She calls over her shoulder, hands gripping the sides of the dusty ladder as she balances a foot on the bottom rung.

Upon her beckoning, Harry saunters over, the painted print she’d selected still grasped in his ringed hand. “Yeah?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in question. “What is it?”

“Can you help me climb up the ladder?” Y/N nods her head towards the far-reaching shelves, biting her bottom lip with pleading eyes. “I want to see what’s on the top shelves.”

Harry’s gaze follows Y/N’s gesture towards the top of the library wall, a look of trepidation flickering through his eyes. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes,” Y/N answers curtly, lifting her other foot onto the bottom rung before moving from her original step to the next. “And it’ll be a lot easier if you help me.”

Despite his protests, Harry sets down the framed print and complies with the request, grasping Y/N around her waist with firm hands as she scurries up the rickety ladder.  She can feel his fingertips pressing into her love handles over the denim, and it would be a lie to say she doesn’t enjoy it, but she refocuses her attention onto reading over the embossed titles that she couldn’t see from below.

“Y’know, on second thought… take all the time you need, dove.” Harry calls from below her, the smirk evident in his voice as he squeezes her hips once with a laugh. “I’ve got quite the view from here.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N releases one hand from the ladder to tug a novel off the shelf, examining the half exposed cover before sliding it back into its place. “I bet you do.” She retorts, wiggling her hips just enough to tease him without losing her precarious balance on the ladder.

Although the motion is meant to be a joke, Harry can’t stop the flash of genuine fear that ignites in his chest.  Humans are fragile, he knows, and a fall from the height that Y/N has climbed to could sprain her wrist, or injure her back, or crack open her skull like an egg, or—

“Careful there, Watson.” Harry attempts to disguise the worry in his voice behind a lighthearted joke as his grip on the human girl strengthens. “Wouldn’t want an accident to happen, now, would we?”

“That’s why I’ve got you, Holmes.” A tinkling laugh falls from her lips as she risks a glance over her shoulder at him, her eyes alight with amusement, before turning her attention back to the old novels. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me, would you?”

There’s a nervous truth hidden underneath her words, and Harry knows it, but that doesn’t stop it from making his skin itch as the casual phrase sinks into his body.  In all his years, however, Harry’s gotten quite good at hiding his emotions, and this is no different.  

Instead of giving a sincere answer, Harry hardens his reply of “F’course I wouldn’t, pet.  Y’can never be too careful.” by letting one jeweled hand drift from Y/N’s hip to her backside, cupping it gently to support her, and taking delight in the way he can feel her body tense beneath his new touch.

It takes Y/N a moment to find her breath again, and when she does, all she can muster is a hum in the back of her throat. “Mhmm.” She sighs, trying her best to refocus on the books lining the shelves in front of her as she climbs higher. “Is that why your hand is grabbing my ass, you pervert?”

“Y’know, that seems to be your favourite nickname for me.” Harry’s smirk deepens as he contracts his hand, squeezing her fleshy backside after she takes another step higher. “I wonder why that is?”

“I wonder.” The flat response echoes from Y/N’s mouth as she pulls another book from the shelf to examine it before replacing it a moment later. “Maybe— and this is just a suggestion, so take it with a grain of salt, but— maybe if you didn’t act like a pervert, you’d get a nicer nickname.”

Although Y/N’s retorts are droll and to the point, Harry can hear the way her heartbeat begins to stutter each time he massages her, and it’s that fluttering rhythm that encourages him to grasp the sides of the ladder with both hands and pull himself up a couple rungs. 

“A nicer nickname, huh?” He breathes in her ear, pressing his chest to her back both to be close to her and to give her more support on the ladder. “Like ‘slut’?” Harry stifles the groan that nearly rolls from his throat when he feels Y/N stiffen. “That’s one of your favourites, isn’t it?”

“I—” Swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat, Y/N grips the sides of the ladder tight between her hands, her skin stretching over her tense knuckles as Harry’s breath begins to hit her neck. “Maybe. I...I suppose.”

Harry laughs quietly as he takes another step up the ladder, keeping himself braced against Y/N as he begins to smear kisses along the side of her neck, mindful of the iron cross that still hangs there. “You suppose?” He repeats, his tone slightly mocking when he hears the mortal shudder. “What about your other favourites?  Y’like when I call you my pretty little plaything, don’t you?”

The honey and lavender fragrance wafting over Harry intensifies as Y/N’s blood pumps faster and faster, the only sound emerging from the human girl being a quiet whimper from the back of her throat.

“There’s another one, though… another nickname…” Letting his teeth gently graze her earlobe, Harry whispers directly in Y/N’s ear, keeping his voice low and throaty as he does so. “It’s on the tip of my tongue, baby...” He suckles sloppily along her pulsing neck, delighting in the taste of her sweet skin in his mouth. “Remind me what it is?”

Already, Y/N’s breathing has grown ragged, and he waits a moment for the aroused girl to form a response, encouraging her with every nip of his teeth.  Just when Harry is about to ask again, she manages to choke out a reply.

“Whore.” She whispers, the embarrassment in her voice overpowered by the lust running through her veins. “I like it when you call me your whore.”

“That’s my good girl.” A satisfied smile tugs at the edge of Harry’s lips as he stamps a gentle kiss to Y/N’s jaw. “That’s another one, too.  My good girl.  And because you’re my good girl…” Harry snakes his right hand from the rung of the ladder to the buttons of Y/N’s overalls, deftly undoing the side snaps and gradually slipping his hand into the space between the denim and her clammy skin. “You’re going to keep looking for your books while I have some fun.”

Y/N lets out a broken gasp as Harry’s fingertips graze over her cotton panties, and her grip on the railing slackens as a rush of heat falls between her legs. 

“Careful, baby.” Harry cautions her, his left hand wrapping around hers and resetting her grasp on the ladder. “Can’t have any fun if you let go, hm?”

“We—” She twists her head to the side, straining to look over her shoulder and towards the entrance as Harry’s digits dance over the dampening spot on her panties. “Someone could walk in, Harry—”

Of course someone could, Harry thinks, but exhibitionism is so much easier to indulge when one has inhuman hearing that can detect the pounding of an approaching heart from fifty feet away.  He doesn’t disclose this information to Y/N, however, for a number of reasons, and instead chooses to scrape his teeth along the shell of her ear once more, his ruby lips soothing the marks instantly. 

“You let me worry about that, alright?” He murmurs lowly, sliding Y/N’s cotton panties to the side and dragging his index and middle finger through her dripping folds, enjoying how she shivers against his chest. “You just focus on finding the book you want and being a good little whore for me, princess.  Let me take care of the rest.”

When Y/N reflects on this moment in bed tonight, her clammy palms twisting around the sheets as she inhabits the memory of Harry’s mint-scented breath swirling around her as he massages two fingers around her throbbing clit with a teasing touch, one specific detail will stick out to her.  She won’t focus on how her heart is pounding so hard that she feels her chest might burst, or how her fingers shake as she reaches for another book on the shelf, per Harry’s quiet but intent instructions.  The thing that Y/N will remember in wonder and— on some level, self consciously— is how quickly the anxiety that spikes through her veins at the possibility of someone walking in and finding the two of them in such a compromising position bleeds into a high like no other.

Y/N likes to entertain the idea that she’s fairly adventurous, and has been open to a lot of things, especially since meeting Harry, but this— allowing him to finger her in a music room at an antique mall, where any customer or employee could discover them— is something so outside of her character that Y/N can’t think straight.  When Harry first slips his long middle finger inside her slick center, the girl nearly collapses, and Harry’s broad chest braced behind her is the only thing that keeps her upright on the ladder.

“Y’like that, doll?” Harry’s hot breath rolls over her neck as he purrs the words, adjusting his grip on the side of the ladder as his other hand skillfully toys with the human in slow and deep strokes. “Filthy little thing, you are, letting me play with you like this.”

The sinful remark draws a mewling moan from Y/N’s mouth as her head dips back onto Harry’s sturdy shoulder, her hands dropping all pretense of searching for a book and clutching the ladder like she normally clutches her sheets, or the headboard of whoever’s bed Harry has tossed her onto. “H-Harry…” She whimpers, her eyelashes fluttering as he circles his thumb around her clit. “Fuck…”

“You pretend to be so sweet, but you and I know the truth, don’t we?” The vampire sponges another kiss along her throat as he delights in the wet sounds his fingers make, which easily become drowned out by the quiet noises of bliss leaving his lover’s mouth. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

Y/N nods fervently as she allows her weight to fall back against Harry’s sturdy chest, trusting him to support her as he thrusts another finger inside her. “Anything, H, I—” The desperate proclamation is cut off as Harry curls his digits, bumping against the spot in the pit of her tummy that sets her entire nervous system on fire. “Shit, right there, baby, right there…”

Harry’s smug voice rings in her ear as he slows his stride, dragging his fingers in and out of her hot core at a pace that’s nearly criminal. “Y’don’t need to tell me, I know.” He pushes himself forward again, flushing Y/N between his chest and the ladder with just enough room to continue his activities. “I know what you like, how you like it, where you like it… Know my girl so well.”

As Y/N adjusts to the newly close proximity, the bulge in Harry’s slacks grows more apparent, rubbing against her backside over and over with each plunge of Harry’s fingers.  She lets out a strangled whine at the feeling, carving her teeth into her bottom lip in an effort to keep herself quiet. 

“You feel me, don’t you, minx?” Harry moans into her ear, catching his teeth along the shell before dragging them down her jaw to settle his lips just above her throbbing pulse point. “You feel what you’re doing to me?  How just a single whimper from those pretty lips, and one touch of your soaked cunt makes my cock ache?”

Despite her best efforts, a ragged sob breaks through Y/N’s self-imposed gag order, and her chest heaves within Harry’s tight embrace as her head lolls to the side. “I-I want it.” She pleads, her half-lidded eyes struggling to find Harry’s emerald irises in her haze. 

Those sea glass eyes, darker than she’s ever seen them, widen with fake surprise as his mouth curls into a smirk.  When Harry replies, his normally soothing dulcet voice is filled with insincere mocking. “Oh, you want it, do you?  You want me to fuck you in here?” Dropping his voice to its usual low resonance, Harry growls the next phrase in the human’s ear. “I know you want it, you fucking slut.  But you can’t have it right now.  So if I’m going to let you cum—” The conditional phrase pulls a sound of protest from her throat. “—then you’re going to have to do it around my fingers.” 

The begging girl cries out against his neck as her walls clench around his touch, the stifled pants that she gasps into Harry’s ear urging him to speed up.  Instead of giving her what she wants, Harry curls his fingers inside her, pressing deeper into that spongy spot to elicit another broken whine from her.  When he receives it, however, it’s accompanied by an unexpected blinding burn. 

The iron cross that hangs so delicately around Y/N’s fragile throat has slung to the side in her writhing pleasure, finding its way from her flushed collarbones to the base of Harry’s icy neck.  The vampire grinds his teeth as he feels the brand begin to form, choking back the sound of agony that fights its way out of his mouth.  His left hand clenches around the ladder, his knuckles stretching white as the waxed wood nearly splinters under his palm, while his right hand stutters its pace inside his lover, prodding harshly at her G-spot as a single grunt makes it past the cracks of his teeth.

Harry knows he needs to remove the cross from his skin, but he has no way of doing so without alerting Y/N to his discomfort.  If he lets go of the rung, both of them will tumble off, and Y/N has made it obvious how much she trusts him to keep her safe; that option is hardly an option, Harry thinks, struggling to keep his mind present as he fights through the pain.  The other option— the only one, really— is to retract his fingers from between the mortal’s thighs, feign some excuse as to why, and do his best to keep her from noticing the cross-shaped burn mark on his neck that will surely disappear within a few moments of the iron being removed.  It’ll be jarring, he knows, to pull Y/N from the subspace he can tell she’s beginning to slip into, and Harry hates it, but there’s nothing to be done.  His hand contracts inside her, desperately massaging her walls one last time before he retreats to—

The sharp action drags a mangled whine from Y/N’s throat, the sound more shattered than anything Harry has ever heard from her before, and it pulls Harry’s attention from the charring sensation of the cross branding his skin to the overwhelmed girl in his arms.  As Y/N lets her entire body fall against Harry’s chest, her eyes completely shut as she gives into the pleasure bubbling in her tummy, a realization dawns on Harry, searing him nearly as much as the metal on his inhuman flesh: he can’t let go of her.  He’s in too deep— literally, obvious in the way she tightens around his fingers— and if he were to stop now, Y/N would go into a sensitive daze that he can’t deal with in a public space.  If he lets go of her now, he’ll lose the connection he’s spent the last two months making. She might get over it, given that it’s just an orgasm, but subconsciously, there’s a possibility she could resent him for it. Especially in the extremely delicate phase she’s in at the moment. 

He knows it sounds stupid, but he can’t risk that.  He just can’t.  He’ll take burning agony over that any day. 

When Harry reflects on this moment in bed tonight, his jeweled fingers carefully combing through Y/N’s knotted locks as she shifts in his arms, the bite mark on her neck freshly faded to a light bruise, her chest rising and falling gently with quiet breaths, one specific detail will stick out to him.  He won’t focus on the blinding pleasure of Y/N grinding against his hardened bulge, her body moving of its own accord as she gives in completely to the sensations Harry pulls from her.  He won’t focus on the explicit moans that show she’s given up on attempting to quiet, her voice reverberating in Harry’s mouth as he inhales every desperate breath she exhales.  When Harry reflects on this moment, the thing he’ll remember the most is how the second he accepted his fate— that he’d have to bear the pain in order to keep Y/N happy, and he feels like there’s probably some deeper subliminal message hidden beneath that realization, though he refuses to indulge it— the mortal girl tilts her head to the side and begins to kiss Harry’s neck, soothing the scorched mark with her silky tongue. 

The relief is so sweet that Harry nearly cries out a fractured mewl, letting his head fall forward into Y/N’s shoulder to hide his desperate expression.  She continues to whimper into his skin, smudging kiss after kiss on his marked neck as if she knows how badly he needs it.  Even as her orgasm begins to rise in her belly, consuming her every thought, she continues to suck bruises onto his jugular, dragging her tongue over his cool skin repeatedly after every action.  Although the iron still stings, the sensation of Y/N’s textured tongue swiping over it turns the pain to pleasure, and it’s not long before Harry has himself centered once again, refocused on the task at hand. 

He speeds up the movement of his fingers, focusing on curling them inside her as his thumb rubs quick circles over her throbbing clit.  The sounds bouncing around the room are so lewd that Harry almost wishes someone would walk in, even if only to see how good Harry is capable of making his lover feel. 

“Y’can cum for me, baby.  Cum all over my hand.” He mutters in her ear, his teeth scraping against her fragile skin in desperation. “I know you have it in you.  Show me how good you are.”

Y/N feverishly grinds against his hand, all of her senses overwhelmed by the immortal as she licks across his neck. “So—so close, Harry—I—”

“I know, I know you are.” The vampire soothes her in a tone more gentle than he thought possible, palming her soaking cunt with as much pressure as he thinks she can stand. “Let go for me.  I’ve got you.”

The reassurance is the final thing Y/N needs to fall apart, and once she knows that she can, it happens with an intensity that shocks even her.  When the coil inside her belly snaps, a guttural moan tears from her mouth, and she grasps the pole in front of her as tightly as she can while collapsing back into Harry’s chest. 

“Fuck, there we go, yeah? Shhh, keep it down for me, angel. Don’t wanna have to stop until you beg me to.” 

Her grip on the ladder does nothing to support her, but as Harry’s hushed words ring in her mind, she knows she doesn’t have to worry about that.  Harry’s arms and chest are strong enough to do it for her, allowing her to sink into her pleasure as much as she needs to. 

When Y/N slumps in his arms, her neck finally shifts enough that her cross falls back into its designated position between her collarbones, providing Harry with relief from the scorching pain he’d been beginning to adjust to.  He can feel his skin begin to heal itself the moment the iron leaves it, and with that small fear tamped down, the creature can turn all his attention to the girl in his arms. 

He slowly and carefully retracts his hand from her panties, shushing the weak squeak that rolls from her lips at the motion. “Good girl.” He mumbles into her ear, kissing her temple softly as her breathing begins to regulate itself. “Shh, you’re alright.  Y’did so well for me, darling.”

The comforting praise comes easily to him, and as he continues to hold Y/N as she regains her previous headspace, Harry begins to wonder just how far he’d be able to push her before she reaches her limits.  How far into subspace can she go before she hits the point of no return?  Could Harry successfully guide her there and lead her back?  Could she ever trust him enough to submit fully to his every request, taking solace in the knowledge that he can take care of her as well as— or better, even— she can take care of herself?  Harry wants to think yes, but he can’t dwell on the idea any longer; Y/N’s beginning to shift against him again, and he’ll never be able to earn that wholehearted trust if he doesn’t tend to her now. 

Lifting his hand to his own lips, Harry wraps his tongue around his drenched fingers, lapping at the sweet wetness that coats them down to his rings.  He hums in appreciation, stippling another tender kiss to Y/N’s neck when he retracts his fingers from his mouth. 

“Taste so sweet, y’know that?” He whispers, the question half a test to see how aware Y/N is as her head begins to clear. “C’mere, I want you to taste.”

Y/N lazily tilts her head to the side, a small smile playing on her lips as they meet Harry’s for a slow kiss.  Trailing his fingers down her side, Harry skillfully buttons the side of her overalls again, adjusting the fabric to lie comfortable against her skin.

“How are you feeling, hm?” He murmurs, rubbing his large hand soothingly over her belly as her breathing begins to regulate again. “How was that?”

“I feel…” Y/N struggles to make sense of her swimming head, resting it against Harry’s shoulder as she tries to form a coherent response. “Good.”

Harry sighs with relief, smearing a quick kiss to her cheek as he grins. “Good.  That’s good.” 

With his right hand still wrapped around her middle, he carefully lowers himself and Y/N from the ladder, keeping a tight grip on the girl until he knows her feet are planted firmly on the ground. 

As the afterglow of her climax begins to fade, a heated flush begins to crawl up Y/N’s spine to settle on the apples of her cheeks. “I, um—” The corners of her lips tug upwards with a bashful tone, and she twists around in Harry’s arms to shyly meet his canopy green eyes. “I can’t believe I did that.” 

“You didn’t do anything.  It takes two to tango, pet.  And, honestly…” Harry flashes a boyish simper at her as he yanks her closer to him by her hips. “I think I did most of the work.” 

“That’s true.” A breathless laugh stutters from Y/N’s chest as she curls her hands around Harry’s bulging biceps, steadying herself from the after effects of her orgasm, which are turning her legs to jelly. “I could, um…” She flicks her eyes from the door to the prominent bulge in Harry’s black slacks before capturing his gaze in hers again. “Return the favour?”

Harry snorts as he gives a quick shake of his head, his teeth catching on his bottom lip while he runs his hands down the back of her rumpled shirt. “Not here, baby.  How about we wait until we’re back at my place for you to show me how my sweet girl sucks cock, hm?”

“So it’s alright for you to distract me from my book search to finger me in a public area,” Y/N fakes indignation to distract herself from the ache that’s starting to pulse in her core again at Harry’s proposal. “But the moment I want to suck you off, you say ‘not here’?  What kind of double standard is that?”

Lips twitching in amusement, Harry stifles a laugh as he turns the girl in his arms, pressing her back to his chest once again before wrapping his arms back around her waist. “You’re right.  I distracted you from your book search. How rude of me.” He coos, nodding up to the shelf as he grazes his teeth against her pulse. “Think I see a pretty copy of Sense and Sensibility up there.  Y’think you can reach it, or do you need me to do it, sweetheart?” 

The shuddering of Y/N’s heartbeat contrasts with her heated reply. “I can reach it just fine if you behave yourself.” She shoots back, smacking the hand that’s beginning to wander towards her center again. “Or is that too difficult for you?” 

“It’s extremely difficult when I’m near you.” The reply, while truthful, sends a quiver down Harry’s spine, and he presses a chaste kiss to the human girl’s shoulder before releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll get the book.”

Y/N tugs the hair tie from her locks, shaking them out before pulling them back again in a neat manner. “You know, I never thought I was one for antiquing, but today was fun.” 

“Well, it doesn’t usually involve getting finger-fucked on a ladder,” Harry states bluntly, glancing over his shoulder with a dimpled smile on his face. “So I’m not really sure if today can be the marker for an average antiquing session.”

Y/N’s face boils at the brazen comment, and she tucks a strand of loose hair that she’d missed behind her ear as she swallows hard. “No.” She replies with a soft and timid laugh, shaking her head gently. “I suppose that’s true.” 

Harry hums in reply as he snags the old copy of the Jane Austen novel from the top shelf, climbing down the ladder effortlessly and landing back on the ground with a soft thud. “But I’m glad you had fun.” Harry steps towards Y/N with a satisfied air, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger as a teasing smile plays on his ruby lips. “And I’m even more glad we found a replacement for that terrible tapestry of yours.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she smacks Harry’s hand from her chin before snatching the novel from his hands. “Stop being mean to Amanda!  You’ll hurt her feelings.”

A snort boasts from Harry’s throat as he recalls the day she had told him what she’d named the piece hanging from her wall, and he bends down to scoop up the Monet print while shaking his head impassively, clutching it in one hand as he snakes the other around Y/N’s waist once again. “Well, I hope Amanda doesn’t have feelings, because I’m going to burn her.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not, because I’m going to hang her over your bed, just so you can stare at her while you fall asleep each night.” 

Harry groans loudly as he guides his lover from the music room and back to the open space of the antique mall. “Please.  If anything is going over my bed, it’s a mirror, not a college freshman’s poor excuse of an attempt at interior design.” 

Y/N wrinkles her nose at the comment, shaking her head at the crude suggestion. “A mirror?  That better be a joke.”

“It was, but now that I’m thinking about it…”

“You’re disgustingly conceited.” 

“Oh please, you lo—” Harry catches himself just before the word love rolls off his lips.  Though he’s said it before when referring to certain aspects of their sex life (like how he loves the way her mouth feels, or how she loves the way he stretches her out), it just seems oddly repulsive to say at this very moment. Too intimate, almost.

Therefore, the creature bites back the offensive phrase and tugs her closer by the waist, covering up his sudden hesitation with his signature smirk. “You like that idea, don’t you, dove?”

Y/N keeps her face neutral as they pass by an older couple examining a grandfather clock. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Sure you don’t.” Harry laughs sharply, nuzzling his face into the top of Y/N’s hair and pressing a casual kiss to the crown of her head. “Need I remind you that your request for my interior design skills is what started this whole thing?”

“And if you had suggested I mount a mirror over my bed, this whole thing would’ve been over before it even had a chance to start.”

“You say that now, but if you were to see the way my cock looks while it slams into your—”

“Harry!” Y/N hisses, blood rushing to her cheeks as he guides her around a corner stacked with porcelain dolls. 

“Fine. No mirror.” Harry relents, a disappointed sigh falling from his lips as he palms Y/N’s waist closer to himself. “But the tapestry needs to be burned.”

“No.”

“Thrown away.”

“No.”

“Folded up and tucked under the bed?”

“Possibly.  And that’s as good an ending as you’ll get.” 

That night, after Harry has satisfied his craving for both Y/N and the sweet liquid that pumps through her veins, and has settled in for his usual nightly routine of rhythmically caressing her back to lull her into a deep slumber, and as he counts the breaths the mortal sighs between nightfall and sunrise while her soft snoring sings a lullaby to his ears, he can’t help but think that…

That yes, this really is as good an ending as he’ll ever get. 

[trashyswitch]

The 1st (and Last) Time the Afton's Buy a Parrot

Go to the pet store, they said! Buy this talking Parrot, they said! It'll be fun, they said! Well...William slowly learns the pros and cons of buying their blue and grey Indian Ringneck parakeet.

So...Things have not been going so great. I've hit a severe road block in my steps into finding a job, and now...I'm starting the resume process all over again. Kinda pissed about it, not gonna lie. But, typing up this fanfic has helped me keep some of my sanity. So, I owe it all to my patient family members and friends who have had to deal with my agitated and unusually impatient self during my job struggles AND my period week amidst that.

Thank you so much. I am now past that, and looking for something new. While I wait, here's a brand new, super long FNAF fanfic for you. Enjoy!

“He said my name! Daddy! He said my name!”

“O-Oh my! Did-did it just make a smooching noise? That’s so cute!”

“Can we pleeeaaaase get him?”

“*ahem* How much for a parrot?”

“$400.”

“$400?!”

“This Indian Ringneck is actually quite cheap compared to the average price which can be between $500 and $700.”

“I...Oh.”

Before he knew it, the parrot was in a take-home cage, saying bye to the pet shop workers as they left with their new friend: Dexter the parrot. It was already taught a name beforehand, and the kids seemed to love it! So, they kept it. The family took the time to set up the bird cage and the climbing items so the bird can fly around and join in the house drama.

It sure didn’t take long for the parrot to start picking up on words either! Dexter’s first word had been “Good morning!”, which he repeated to everyone in the house! It was really funny hearing Dexter pick up on certain repeated words. Sometimes, there were moments when Michael or Elizabeth would play peek-a-boo with Dexter!

“Peek-a-boo!” Michael cooed.

Dexter bobbed his head down, before popping it back! “Peekaboo!” Dexter said quickly.

“Yaaaay! He did it! Peekaboo!” Elizabeth cheered.

Dexter bobbed his head down and brought it back up again! “Peekaboo!” Dexter reacted.

Michael chuckled. “Yaay! Go Dexter!” he cheered.

At one point, Dexter had been watching William tickle little Chris. “Coochy coochy coo! A coochycoochycoo! A coochycoochycoochycoo!” William repeated over and over again. Chris was laughing happily and giggling at William’s silly words, while Dexter was studying his words very carefully.

The next morning, Chris ran down the stairs with his backpack. “Hi Dexter!” Chris greeted.

“Good morning!” Dexter replied.

“Hi!” Chris said again.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter teased suddenly.

Chris bursted out laughing and pointed at the parrot. “HEHEHE TEHEHEASED MEHEHE!” Chris yelled.

Clara heard the whole exchange from the kitchen, and was giggling as well. It didn’t take long for William to come downstairs in his work shirt. “Hey William...I think Dexter may have learned your teasing method.” Clara warned him with a smirk. William’s eyes widened in horror before he turned to look at the bird on the table.

Dexter looked at William. “Hi Will!” He greeted.

“Hi Dexter!” William said back.

“Hi Dexter!” Dexter repeated.

“Yup, that’s what I said.” William replied.

Dexter let out a whistle. “Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter cooed.

William was taken back, while both his wife and his youngest were laughing themselves silly. “How dare!” William reacted, going closer to the parrot.

“Bye!” Dexter said back.

“Nope. I’m not leaving.” William let him know.

Dexter bobbed his head down, and looked back up. “Peekaboo!” Dexter exclaimed. William hung his head and held back a laugh. “Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter added.

“Hey now! No Coochy coochy coo.” William warned.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter said back.

“What did I just say?” William asked.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter repeated.

“NO coochy coochy coo!” William yelled at him.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter repeated.

“Quit the teasing.” William ordered, pointing his finger at the bird.

Dexter looked at the index finger, before jumping his legs onto it and looking William in the eye. “Coochycoochycoo!”

Finally, William tapped out of the argument. Chris was laughing his head off, and his wife was giggling and shaking her head.

Ever since that little argument, William would sometimes get into ‘arguments’ with the parrot. As Dexter’s vocabulary got better and better, the arguments became more word-oriented and fleshed out. The arguments were still meaningless, but it was still fun to watch and laugh.

“I love you!” Dexter said.

“You love me?” William reacted.

“I love you!” Dexter repeated.

“How dare you love me.” William teased. Dexter jumped onto his shoulder and pecked his cheek, making a kissing sound. William smiled. “Shucks, Dexter! You’re making me blush!” William reacted.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter cooed.

William sighed. “Aaaand we’re back to the teasing.” William muttered.

“Peekaboo!” Dexter said after.

“Peekaboo? Alright.” William covered his face with his hand, and uncovered it. “Peekaboo!” Dexter let out a laugh, that sounded a little like a witch. William wheezed and laughed at that. “What was THAT?!” He reacted. “Is that what your laugh sounds like?! It’s demonic!” William reacted.

Dexter bobbed his head down and lifted it back up again. “Peekaboo!” Dexter reacted.

William only giggled at that. “You’re so weird.”

“I love you!” Dexter repeated.

“I love you too, Dexter.” William replied, scratching under his chin.

A little bit later, Dexter managed to learn a few new sounds! The latest sound was like a snoring sound...Almost, to the point where Elizabeth wondered if Dexter had learned William’s snoring sound. But, William mentioned how short the sound was. Therefore: it couldn’t have been his snoring sound.

Things finally clicked when some of the family members started laughing together. Picking up on the social signal, Dexter started laughing in his witchy laugh as well! Usually in the middle of the laughing, Michael’s signature snorting would show up. This would end up putting the family into hysterics all over again! And then the moment Dexter heard that, he started making the short snore sound! Suddenly, everything made sense!

Michael covered his mouth in horror! “Oh no!” Michael whined. “He learned my snort!” Michael exclaimed. William and the family LOST it after that! Michael was absolutely embarrassed! Now whenever Dexter would laugh, he could snort exactly like Michael would in between laughs!

Speaking of Michael embarrassed, Dexter quickly learned that he could get the best reactions to his teasing out of Michael! Dexter would hang out on his shoulder and either just sit there and watch Micheal do homework, or he would talk to him in his own little way.

“Math time!” Dexter declared.

Michael laughed. “Dexter, this is english!” He reacted.

“Hi Michael!” Dexter greeted.

“Hi Dexter.” Michael replied, petting his head.

Dexter jumped down off his shoulder and stood on the corner of the table. Dexter bobbed his head down and lifted it back up. “Peekaboo!” Dexter declared.

“Not now. I’m busy.” Michael told him.

Dexter let out a chirp. “Time for work!” Dexter said.

“Yyyup. Time for homework.” Michael told him.

“Pleeeeaaaase?” Dexter asked, imitating Elizabeth’s whiny begs.

Michael chuckled. “Please what?” he asked.

“Math time!” Dexter repeated.

“This is english. No math time. I did my math already.” Michael told him.

Dexter hopped up to Michael’s cheek, pecked it with his beak and made a kissy noise. “I Love you!” Dexter said to him.

Michael smiled. “I love you too, Dexter.” He replied.

Dexter repeated his kiss. “I love you too!” Dexter repeated.

Michael started to blush a little. “I know you love me.” Michael replied.

Dexter gave him another cheek kiss. “Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter teased.

Michael whined and dropped his head into his writing arm. “Ihihi cahahan’t fohohocus!” Michael whined. Dexter let out a little laugh and a snort. That just made Michael’s face turn even more red. “Stahahap repeating my snort! I know it’s stupid! I don’t need a living record player repeating that for me!” Michael whined.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter repeated.

Michael whined again and pushed him a little with his finger. “Staaahahap.” Michael whined.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter said yet again.

“Moooom, Dexter’s teasing meee!” Michael whined.

William chuckled from the other room. “Can’t handle the coochycoochycoo’s?” William asked, walking out to the kitchen.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter repeated.

“Dehehexteher, I swehehear!” Michael whined in slight agitation.

“Awww! Micey’s getting all flustered now!” William teased, walking up beside his son.

“NOhoho, Dahahad, don’t you dahahare!” Michael warned. “Ihihi’ll gehet you back!” Michael threatened.

“No you won’t.” William replied back. “Not if Dexter keeps up the teases.” William added as he started squeezing his sides.

“HEHEHEHAhahahaha! Dahahad nohohohoho!” Michael laughed, wrapping his arms around his sides and wiggling around in his seat.

“I think what you’re trying to say, is Dad YES!” William replied as he wiggled a finger in his belly button.

“NohohOHOHOHO! NAHAT MYHYHY BEHEHELLY BUHUHUTTOHOHON!” Michael shouted.

“Coochycoochycoo! Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter was repeating to Michael.

“Yeah, you tell him, Dexter. Coochy coochy coo! A coochy coochy coo!” William teased further.

“Coochycoochycoo!” Dexter repeated.

“STAHAHAP IHIHIHIT BOHOHOTH OHOF YOHOHOHOU!” Michael begged.

To make matters worse, William had grabbed Dexter and placed him on the top back of the chair. “There! Get his ear, Dexter! Tickle his ear!” William encouraged while holding his son back against the chair so he couldn’t move forward. Dexter started pecking at his ear and his neck, making Michael squeak and shake his head around.

“NOhohohoho! Stahahahap ihihihit Dehehexteheher!” Michael begged.

In reaction, Dexter laughed and imitated his snort. Hearing Dexter be such a teasy nut, made William laugh like there was no tomorrow.

“Hi Michael!” Dexter greeted.

“Stahahap tihihicklihing mehehe! Ihihihi hahahave hohohomewohohork!” Michael giggled at them both.

Dexter suddenly grew distracted. “Math time!” Dexter said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” William said to Dexter.

“Ahagain, it’s ENGLISH!” Michael yelled at Dexter, getting right into his face.

Michael stared at Dexter with intense eyes. Dexter tilted his head to the side slightly, before leaning in…

“Mwah! Kisses!” Dexter declared. “I love you!” Dexter repeated.

Michael whined and smacked his head against the desk in defeat, while William just laughed at them.

One time, Henry had been visiting. Dexter had grown to LOVE Dexter, and surprisingly, vice versa as well! Dexter started adding the name ‘Henry’ to his vocabulary.

“Henry!” Dexter said, flying to the man and standing on his head. “Hi Henry!” Dexter greeted.

Henry laughed a little and tried not to move his head very much. “Hi Dexter!” Henry greeted back. William tapped onto the stair rack to show Dexter where to go. Catching onto the signal, Dexter flew there. “Okay. Come here, Dexter!” Henry encouraged the bird by showing his somewhat curled hand to land on. Without a second thought, Dexter flew to Henry and landed on his finger. “Hi little nerd!” Henry greeted, scratching under his chin.

“Hi Henry!” Dexter greeted.

“Awww...Of course you’re choosing the guest over us.” William complained a little.

“A little jealous?” Henry joked.

“No way, me?! Naaah.” William replied, keeping a confident front.

Henry laughed and allowed the kids to overwhelm him.

“Hi Uncle Henry!” Elizabeth greeted.

“Uncle Henryyyy!” Chris yelled.

“Hi Lizzie! Hi Chris!” Henry greeted.

“Come play with us!” Chris begged.

“Yeah! We’re playing tea party!” Elizabeth told him.

“No we’re not! We’re playing cowboys!” Chris whined.

“Tea Party!” Elizabeth fought.

“Cowboys! And Henry can be the horse!” Chris declared.

William widened his eyes. “Now wait a se-”

“Henry might not wanna be the horse!” Elizabeth interrupted. William waved his hand to Elizabeth, showing Chris she’s right. “You need to ask him first before you jump onto his back!” Elizabeth told Chris, recalling the same situation from when she was younger.

Chris turned to Henry with his famous puppy eyes. “Henry? Do you wanna be the horse?” Chris asked.

Henry giggled and shook his head. “I’d love to!” Henry replied.

William sighed and let a small smile grow onto his face. “How are you so patient with them?” William asked as he followed a child-surrounded Henry to the living room.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just who I am.” Henry replied as he went into the crawling position. “Now, no kicking. Okay? Don’t kick me to get me to go, use your words.” Henry warned before he started playing the horse.

“Go horsey go!” Chris declared excitedly. Henry started crawling on his request. As he was crawling around and being the horse, Dexter flew to Elizabeth’s hand.

“MOOO!” Dexter declared.

Elizabeth turned her head to Dexter in pure confusion. “Whaaaaa?”

William bursted out laughing and doubled over, while Henry hung his head and giggled. “Thahat’s not the sound a horse makes, Dexter.” Henry told him.

Suddenly, Dexter made a car alarm sound! Henry lifted an eyebrow and looked up at William. William’s laughter had stopped, and he was now hiding his face in his hands. “I set off the car alarm one time...and Dexter catches on and starts imitating the sound.” William admitted.

“Wow! This bird’s amazing! He’s smart, yet dumb all at once!” Henry reacted.

William chuckled as Dexter flew up to him on the couch armrest. “Hi Dexter.” William greeted.

“Hi Dexter!” Dexter repeated.

“Mm hmm...That’s what I said.” William told him.

“Pleeeeaaaase?” Dexter asked.

“Please what?” William asked.

“Math time!” Dexter replied.

“Math is boring.” William told him.

“Pleeeeaaaase?” Dexter pleaded.

“No math. No homework. It’s playtime.” William told Dexter.

“Mooo!” Dexter shouted.

“That’s not a cow. That’s a horse.” William told Dexter, pointing to Henry.

“Hi Henry!” Dexter said.

Henry chuckled and shook his head as he made a neighing sound.

“Hi Michael!” Dexter greeted.

The kids laughed at that. “Henry’s not Michael!” Elizabeth reacted.

William sighed and rubbed his nose. “Michael’s not even here right now.”

“Hi Michael!” Dexter repeated.

“Michael is gone.” William told him.

“Hi Michael!” Dexter repeated again.

“Dexter. Mike, is NOT, HERE.” William repeated, getting close to his face.

Dexter stared at William for a moment. “Coochycoochycoo!”

“Oh. Now you’re teasing me. Newsflash: teasing doesn’t work on me.” William told him.

“Time for work!” Dexter declared.

“I’m done work, Dexter.” William told him.

“Peekaboo!” Dexter declared.

“No.” William said back, growing visibly angry.

Dexter bobbed his head down and rose it back up. “Peekaboo!” Dexter declared.

“No peekaboo.” William told him.

Suddenly, Dexter squawked and opened his wings to him! William actually jumped and yelped! But that just ended up making William frown even more. William waved his hand towards Dexter to get him off. “Get outta here.” William ordered.

“No.” Dexter said back.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she looked to Chris with worry. “Uh oh…” Chris muttered to her.

“Leave. Me. Alone. Bird.” William warned.

“I’m Dexter!” Dexter greeted as if he was introducing himself to William for the first time.

Finally, William flicked Dexter’s chest and knocked him onto the floor. “Dad! Be nice!” Elizabeth yelled at him. “He doesn’t know much better.” Elizabeth told him as he tried to take Dexter away. But Dexter refused to go down without another fight. He flew up to the armrest and squawked at him again. William flinched a bit, and…

...smirked?

William leaned in towards the parrot. “How would you like to be cooked?” William asked.

Henry dropped his jaw. “WILLIAM!” He shouted.

“Time to eat!” Dexter replied.

“Oooh yes, time to eat...You.” William said with an eeeeevil grin.

“Seeds please!” Dexter asked.

“Oh? You want some sunflower seeds surrounding your roasted body? Oohoho…” William leaned back and placed his index fingers onto his lips. “That can be arranged.”

“Daddy! Stop it!” Elizabeth yelled.

“What? Worried I’m gonna fight him? Tie him down? Cover him in oil?” William asked her.

Elizabeth whined and threw a pillow at him. “It’s not funny!” Elizabeth yelled to him.

“Food time!” Dexter said happily.

“See? He wants to become food!” William told her, pointing to Dexter.

“No he doesn’t! He wants to EAT food! Not BECOME food!” Elizabeth told him.

“Why are we even JOKING about this, Will?!” Henry asked him.

“Fight me!” Dexter yelled at him.

Suddenly, everything stopped. Both kids were staring at the parrot with big smiles on their faces. Henry was smirking and ready to cheer the bird on, while William looked awestruck by Dexter’s sudden ability to stand up to himself. “What did you just say?” William asked him, dumbfounded.

Dexter jumped at William again. “Fight me! Fight me!” Dexter yelled at him.

Elizabeth bursted out laughing and rolled all across the floor. Even Henry was laughing a little. “He’s getting smart, even for a parrot! You’d better be careful, William. He’s reaching droid-levels of intelligence.” Henry warned with a smirk.

“You want me to fight you?” William asked.

“Fight me! Fight me! Fight me!” Dexter repeated, jumping around.

“You wanna fight me? I could easily end you.” William reacted.

Finally, Henry grabbed William’s foot. “Aaaaalright, that’s enough.” Henry told him as he pulled him right off the sofa and flopped him onto the ground.

“HEY! What was that for?!” He yelled.

Henry laughed. “You’re threatening the bird a liiiittle too much. You need to cool it.” Henry told him. “Kids? What do ya say we tickle pile him?” Henry suggested.

“YES!” They both declared excitedly.

William’s eyes widened in fear and horror. “Wait, WHAT?! No, no no no HOLD ON-”

Elizabeth and Chris puppy-piled their father while Henry went for William’s feet. “Does Willy Wonka have ticklish walkers?” Henry asked, skittering his fingers on both of his arches.

“NOHOHOHOHAHAHA! GUHUHUHUHYS!” William yelled, falling into a laughing fit. Elizabeth started raspberrying his belly, making up for all the raspberries he’s blown onto her. “WAHAHAHAIT! EHEHELIHIHIZABEHEHEHETH!” William shouted. “NOHOHOHOHOHO RAHAHAHASPBEHEHEHERRIHIHIES!” William begged.

“But Daddy needs ALL the raspberries!” Elizabeth told him right back.

“Yeeeaaah! And Daddy also needs his speeecial ribby spiders!” Henry declared, skittering his fingers up and down his ribs like spiders.

“NOHOHOHOHO GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” William’s laughter quickly went silent as he rolled himself onto his stomach.

Henry quickly retreated his fingers and laid down beside him. “You okay? You calm now? You done threatening Dexter?” Henry asked.

“Nope!” William started squeezing Henry’s side and got up to keep tickle attacking him.

“Whahahat thehehe- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WIHIHIHILLIAHAHAHAM NOHOHOHO!” Henry yelled, laughing and wiggling around under him.

“I think the right answer is, William yes.” William replied proudly before blowing a raspberry onto his side.

“YYYAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Henry shrieked in pure surprise. Henry continued to fall into the rabbit hole of endless hysterics! And to make things even funnier…

“YYYAAAAAAAAAA!”

...Looks like Dexter added yet another sound to his vocabulary.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Five

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut and Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Your alarm goes off at four the next morning. Harry groans like you’ve never heard him before.

“Why are you up so bloody early?”

“I’m going to the gym before work.” You whisper. “Go back to sleep.” You change and pack up everything you’ll need.

“Why?”

“Too dark in the evenings right now, I have zero motivation after work. I’ll be back before I go to work.”

You ran three miles. You have no idea why, but you did. You lifted some weights, and then got back to your apartment by 6:30 to shower. Harry was still in bed when you got back. He rolled over and saw you. You strip yourself of your clothes and he thought you looked like a runway model with the way you were strutting around.

“Right, so I’ll be showerin’ with ya.” He says getting up. You turn to grin at him.

“We have to be super quick.” You fix your hair into a bun so it won’t get wet. “Niall and I are going to carpool today, and he leaves super early.”

“Well, enough talkin’ then, let’s go.”

You turn the water on and wait for it to heat up. You stand under the warm water to wash the sweat away. Harry gets on his knees and pulls you towards him. You giggle, and then gasp when you feel his mouth on your clit. Your hands rake through his hair. He moves one of your legs over his shoulder so he can lick your center easier.

“Ugh, Harry.” Your head rolls back. “Feels so good.”

He dips a finger up inside you while his mouth focuses on your clit again. He curls it up inside you making the “come here” motion, and you’re not sure how much longer you’ll last.

“Harry, shit, don’t stop.”

You feel him smirk while he flicks his tongue faster on you. It’s when his second finger slips inside that you lose it. You gasp loudly, and practically scream while your stomach coils. One of your hands grasps at the tile on the shower wall. Your release comes and he continues to pump in and out of you while you ride it out. He stands up as you catch your breath. You lean your forehead on his chest.

“Shit.”

He lifts you up quickly and puts your back flush with the wall. You wrap your legs around him and he thrusts up into you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Always so reactive in the mornin’.” He smirks. He starts moving in and out. He grabs one of your hands with his and laces your fingers together.

“I love you so much.” You kiss him while he fucks up in to you.

“I love you too.” He says into your ear. “Love this tight little cunt too.” You moan at his words.

“Keep going.” You breathe out. He could feel you pulsing against him.

“Feels so good wrapped around me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, s’like it was made just f’me.” You tighten around him.

“Fuck, Harry.” You start panting while he moves in and out of you faster. “I wanna come at the same time, can we do that?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Harry, it’s gonna, I’m, oh god!”

His come shoots up inside you as you release around his cock. He stays pressed against you for a moment before pulling out, and setting you down. He kisses you before stepping into the water to rinse off. You give his bum a little pinch as you step into the water.

“Oi!”

“I love that ass.” You giggle.

You get dressed quick and throw some makeup on. It was already 7:15. You made a quick smoothie and kissed Harry before heading out the door. Niall had just pulled his car up.

“Mornin’.”

“Good morning.” You smile big at him. You certainly didn’t seem the way Harry had described. But it was a new day after all.

“You seem perky.”

“I went to the gym really early, I feel so energized.”

“That’s good. Wish I could do that, I get every last drop of sleep I can possibly get. Plus, Sarah usually gives me a good work out.”

“Don’t be gross.” You nudge him.

“As if Harry doesn’t give you a parting gift in the morning.”

“Oh he does, did this morning in fact, but that’s none of your business.” You smirk.

“Mhm, yeah.”

You and Niall stop for coffee and head to the office. You liked carpooling already. It was nice to have that time together in the morning. You decided to switch off every other day. You get to your desk and get through some lingering emails. Harry texts you a kissy face and it makes your heart flutter.

//

Harry gets to work around nine. Isaac says good morning like he usually does.

“Harry! We missed you last week.”

“Thanks, wish I could say the same.” He smiles along with his joke.

“Very funny.”

“Actually, I would have much preferred you had come with us. We coulda had a lot of fun.” Isaac blushes as Harry walks into his office.

His coffee was already waiting for him. He sighs with relief. He logs onto his computer and loads up some of the pictures he started editing. He gets them onto a flash drive and walks down to Mykenzie’s office. He taps on the outside of the door.

“Hey.” He says to her.

“Hi.” She says looking over at him.

“Got the pictures from last week for yeh.”

“Thanks, you can just leave that on Julia’s desk.”

“You’re not even gonna look ‘em over?” He pouts.

“Why do I need to? She’s the one writing the pieces.”

“You’re gonna look her shit over though right?”

“Yeah, when she’s done. I’m working on something else right now.”

“Alright then.” He turns on his heel and leaves her office. She hated when he’d pout like that. It was too cute. He walks over to Julia’s desk where her eyes are glued to her computer screen. “Hey, here are the pictures from last week.” He places it on her desk.

“Thanks.” Her cheeks heat up looking at him.

“Ya good?”

“Mhm.”

“Thanks for the coffee.” He winks at her and walks away.

//

You were too busy jamming out to your Glee cast playlist playing loudly in your ears to notice Harry standing in your door way around lunch time. He got a kick out of you bobbing your head around, mouthing the words that he knew you desperately wished you could be belting out. He makes a coughing noise, and you look up at him.

“Oh! Hi, sweetie.” You pause your music and get up.

“It okay I came by?”

“Course! Wanna eat with Niall too? He missed me all week.” Harry goes to speak but you’re already walking down the hall to Niall’s office. “Hey, come to my office for lunch, Harry’s here too.”

“Sounds good!” You come back and get your lunch out of your lunch box.

“What?”

“Nothin’…” He sits down in one of the chairs by your desk. Niall comes in and sits next to him.

“Hey mate.”

“Hey. How was car poolin’?”

“Good! We’re going to do it every day.” You say sitting down.

“It’s a nice way to start to day off.” Niall says.

“Agreed.” You smile at him. “How’s work today, babe?”

“Good, everyone really liked my pictures.”

“That’s great! They were beautiful. Niall, Harry got to dive under water.”

“Ohh, he likes doin’ that.”

“Shut up.” He nudges him. You roll your eyes at the inside joke. “Hey, Niall, you ever notice how much Y/N rolls her eyes?” They both smirk.

“Oh, all the time. She should have an award for it.”

“I really don’t even notice I’m doing it!”

“The best is when I catch you doin’ it in a bad meeting, I have all I can do to not start laughin’.”

“Good to know I can be so entertaining.” You stick out tongue out at him and he sticks his back at at you.

“You both wanna come over tonight to watch The Bachelor?”

“Or you could come to our place! Is that okay Harry?” He nods yes.

“Perfect. Sarah can’t come over tonight, and I hate watchin’ it alone.”

“I cannot believe you like watching it.”

“It’s addicting as fuck! Y/N actually got me into it. When she first started here she was talkin’ about the Bachelorette like all the time.”

“Mhm, so I started Niall off with Bachelor in Paradise that summer.”

“It was wild.”

“Jesus, you two are a married couple.” Harry chuckles.

“We’d be one of the couple’s from the fifties that have the twin beds instead of like a normal bed.” You joke.

“Yes! That’s exactly how I’d picture it.” He laughs.

Niall leaves you and Harry to hang out alone around 12:30. He closes the door behind him, and you move to sit in Harry’s lap.

“Hi.” You nuzzle your nose to his.

“You’re in a good mood today.”

“Hard not to be when you gave me an earth shattering orgasm this morning.” You blush as you say it.

“Earth shatterin’ huh?”

“Didn’t you hear me scream? Jesus, I’m still thinking about it. You have magic fingers. Actually, you have magic everything.” You giggle and lean down to kiss him.

“Would love to do that for ya again, now.” You stand up immediately.

“I already told you I’m not going to fuck you in my office.”

“Can we make out then?”

“Yeah, okay.”

You sit on the edge of your desk and he stands between your legs. Your hands stay on his hips while he kisses you.

//

Harry left your office with swollen lips and a fresh hickey on his collar bone. Isaac smirked at him as he came back up to the studio. Harry grabs a mint from the top of his desk.

“What’s that face for?” He asks him.

“Nothing, I just think it’s cute that you have this like high school romance with your girlfriend.”

“High school romance?” Harry scoffs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone ready to pounce like you, you’re a like a teenager going through puberty.”

“Come off it. Can’t help that I’m with the most gorgeous girl in the world. Need to her to kiss me any chance I can get.” He shrugs.

“It’s nice seeing you so in love, H. It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, mate.”

Harry shakes his head and goes into his office. He was genuinely over the moon happy.

//

Niall drives you home at the end of the day, and says he’ll be over around 7:30. You get home before Harry, so you decide to start dinner. You get your music going and start a pot of water on the burner. You were thinking egg noodles with mushrooms and peas. Harry comes home to the smell of your cooking and sits down at the island in the kitchen.

“Hi sweetie.” You say to him. “Dinner’s just about ready.” You kiss him on the cheek. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Good, no complaints for once. How was yours?”

“Pretty good. Had a few meetings. I hate afternoon meetings, people are exhausting after lunch.” You plate up the foot for the two of you and sit next to him.

“Mm, this is delicious, thank you.”

“I made enough to have leftovers for tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. What time is Niall comin’?”

“7:30.”

“Perfect, plenty of time for a shag.”

“Harry.”

“C’mon, let’s go. Need t’save time for a cuddle and all that.”

“Okay, can we just clean up first?”

He practically throws the plates in the dishwasher, and yanks you into the bedroom. Your legs were over his shoulders before you knew it. Your back arching upwards several times. This man truly knew how to fuck a woman right, there was no doubt about that. When you were both done you laid their facing each other, legs tangled up in each other. Light pillow talk, giggles, and stolen kisses.

Around 7:15 you both get up and throw on some sweats. You decide on wearing Harry’s clothes. He notices you’re not wearing a bra.

“Hey, could you put somethin’ on under that?”

“It’s a sweat shirt, you can’t even tell.”

“Yes you can.”

“That’s because you’re looking. He won’t be.”

“Y/N.”

“Harry, I don’t know how else to say this, but Niall has seen me without a bra on several times. It’s really not a big deal. It’s not like I’m wearing a tight little white shirt. I’m wearing one of your sweatshirts. I’ll even keep my arms crossed. See?” You hear the buzzer go off. “I’m gonna let him up. Could you make some popcorn?”

“Mhm.”

“Hey!” You say to Niall as he comes in. He had his glasses on and was also clad in sweats. Harry comes out of the kitchen. “Look, he’s got his glasses on, full relaxation mode for the Irish lad.”

“Shut up, I was done with contacts for the day.”

“Want a glass of wine?”

“Wouldn’t be the bachelor if we didn’t.”

“Perfect! Go sit, I’ll get it.”

Harry felt like he was intruding on a date or something. He sits next to Niall on the couch and puts the popcorn on the coffee table. You come over with three wine glasses and pour it for them both, and yourself.

“Harry, could I please sit in the middle?” He shuffles over. “Thank you.”

The show starts and Harry is already bored. He really felt like a third wheel while you and Niall made comments to each other.

“He’s lettin’ her come back?!” Niall shouts.

“I thought we were free! I’m gonna say it, Peter’s a stupid bitch.”

“You’re right, and you should say it.”

“He literally just wants to bone, I don’t know why he wanted to do this.”

“Probably for that exact reason. Just wait for the fantasy suites.”

“What in the fuck are fantasy suites?”

“When he gets to the final three women, they each get an overnight date with him.” You explain.

“But only if the girl accepts.”

“And it’s no cameras. So the couple can talk all night without the producers meddling, or they can fuck.”

“And there’s no cameras at all?”

“Mhm, it’s like the most crucial date.”

Harry found himself getting more invested with the show. It reminded him of one his novels. You felt your eyes start to get droopy. You had been up really early, and the wine was making you sleepy. Your head falls on Niall’s shoulder. He looks down at you and chuckles. Harry’s jaw tenses. Niall nudges his shoulder up to wake you.

“Hm? Sorry, dozed off for a second.” Harry hooks his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “Ya good?” You ask looking up at him.

“Yup.” Niall shakes his head, but keeps his attention on the TV.

When it ends the three of you are exhausted. You and Harry say goodnight to Niall, and you both shuffle into the bedroom, and into the bathroom to do your nightly routines. You take the sweat pants and sweatshirt off and get into bed. You couldn’t wait for Harry to wrap his arms around your soft skin. You sigh with relief when he does.

“That was fun tonight.”

“Yeah, s’not the worst show I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s very addicting.”

“Clearly.” He yawns.

“Love you baby.” You kiss his cheek.

“Love you too, goodnight.”

//

You were sort of embarrassed when you went to see Dr. Mara. You had called her office last week and told them you were too sick to come in.

“Hi, Y/N, are you feeling better?” She says to you as you sit down.

“I wasn’t really sick last week.”

“Oh?”

“I just didn’t feel like coming in and talking.”

“Well, that’s alright. Do you feel like you don’t need weekly appointments anymore?”

“No.” You sigh. “I definitely still need weekly appointments. I’ve been sort of depressed, and I’ve been trying to repress all of it.”

“What are you depressed about?”

“I don’t know…could be my seasonal thing. Harry and I have had sex from behind a couple times and I’ve had some bad flashes. I kept it to myself, but I told him about it…so I’m a little better. I was just feeling really low for some reason. I don’t know if it was because I was keeping something like that to myself, so I was just making it worse?”

“Why do you think you kept it to yourself?”

“Because I didn’t want him to worry, or treat me differently. I could tell he was really enjoying it, which made me enjoy it too…”

“You don’t have to put yourself through anything just because you know he wants it a certain way.”

“I know that, and he’s said the same thing to me.”

“So why try to force it?”

“Because I just want to be able to do things!”

“And you will, but not if you force yourself before you’re ready. I mean look at you, you look depressed.”

“I’m feeling better.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I’ve been sleeping just fine, getting up early, going to the gym.”

“Are you fatigued?”

“A little.” You sigh. “I’m going to Aruba in April…Harry and I got into a fight about it.”

“Why? Isn’t that a family trip?”

“Yeah, he was upset because he had just gotten back from a work thing in Florida, and he felt like I wanted to get away from him by bringing up my own trip. He really missed me. I missed him too, but he like really missed me.” You pause for a moment as she nods along. “He felt really bad for leaving because we were supposed to have the week off together to move. I told him it was no big deal, it really wasn’t. I honestly didn’t care, it was out of my control.”

“You usually like being the one in control.”

“On a person to person basis, yeah. But something like this, a bigger picture thing, like there’s literally nothing either of us could do, so it was whatever.” You shrug. “I don’t think he handles being out of control very well. I think once there’s a plan in place he gets really upset when it changes drastically.”

“Do you think that’s why he was upset when you brought up Aruba?”

“I think his family is supposed to come here for Easter, and he hasn’t truly accepted that I won’t be around for it. I don’t think he fully understands the relationship I have with my Nannie, even though he’s seen me absolutely sob over her…I hate it when we fight. We fight over the stupidest fucking things. We were in a restaurant over the weekend and he threw my fucking degree in communication in my face! Can you believe that?! And then when we got home he put on this big show of making it known he was going to sleep on the sofa. Good! I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him not to. An hour later he comes back in and starts yelling at me. So we talk some shit through. I mean, he drives me crazy sometimes. I know I’m not the easiest person sometimes, but Jesus neither is he.”

“Do you want to break up with him?”

“What?! God, no. I love him too much. The thought’s never even crossed my mind.” You sigh. “We had sex after our fight, it was good, but I got really emotional. It wasn’t like we had made love, it was almost angrier than that. Like a hate fuck or something. Only I was in control the entire time, all of it was coming from me.”

“Maybe you hadn’t resolved everything like you thought you had when you talked.”

“But I don’t want to have angry sex with him. Sure, a little rough is okay, but not angry. That shit doesn’t solve anything. It sure as hell didn’t make me feel better after.” You cross your arms and look away. “The next day I didn’t get out of bed until nearly one in the afternoon. I knew he was worried. I went to take a shower and he told me he needed to go to Niall’s for something. I know he went there to talk about me, why else would he have slipped out like that?”

“What do you think they would have talked about?”

“Why I was acting the way I was, I’m sure. I don’t like that it feels like I’m not allowed to not be okay. I can’t be okay all the time. Besides that, Sarah was with them and she texted me.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Incredibly annoyed, but she told me what they talked about…I chose to just let it go.”

“What did they talk about?”

“Every depressive episode I’ve ever had. It was like a fucking team of doctors or some shit.”

“Y/N, we’ve talked about this before, but do you think you’d like to try going on some kind of medication? We could start you on a very low dosage-“

“No…that’s like a last resort. That stuff just fucks with your mood.”

“There are some side effects sure, but-“

“I said no.” You both look at each other for a moment. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. So you know Harry went over there to get some information on you, and you chose not to freak out about it. Very different from a couple months ago.”

“I honestly just didn’t have the strength or energy to fight with him again. Now he knows these things about me. Awesome, I really don’t care.”

“But you do care. You look pissed.”

“Of course I’m pissed! How would you feel if three people who were really close to you had a conference to talk about every time you’ve ever been sad? It’s embarrassing. You think I like getting like that? I’d say it’s the only thing about living with someone I don’t like. They can see every time you’re vulnerable.” You groan. “And I lied to Niall last week. I told him I came to see you, and Harry had to have told him I lied.”

“Are you going to talk to him about it?”

“I don’t know. It’s sort of a moot point now…but now who knows if either will believe me when I come here.”

“Niall’s opinion of you really matters, doesn’t it?”

“We love each other, I don’t want him looking at me differently because I fibbed one time.”

“How does Harry feel about the way you and Niall love each other?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes he cares and sometimes he doesn’t. He gets jealous really easily. But he’s just a clingy, needy, guy.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not at all…until it starts some shit. I think it’s cute he wants me all to himself. God, you don’t think we’re toxic do you?”

“No…but you two need some boundaries set. He shouldn’t get upset with you because you’re going on a trip with your family. But you’re not off the hook either. I know how you can be. You need to cut him some slack once in a while too. He’s not a mind reader, remember?”

“But I’m not one either.”

“Exactly. So, instead of biting each other’s heads off, just try communicating more clearly. If you notice him act a certain way, don’t just call him out on it. Take a step back and think about why he may be acting that way, and go at it from another angle. I know you do that work, bring it home with you.”

//

As you drove home from your appointment, you knew she was right. She was always right. The doorman greets you as you go inside, and you check your little mailbox just in case Harry hadn’t. You say hello to the desk attendant, Michael, as you head up to the elevator. You had gotten to know Michael well during the week of moving.

You key into your place. Harry was up in the loft working. You go right for the kitchen since you were starving. You take out the leftovers from last night, put some in a bowl, and heat it up. Harry comes into the kitchen to greet you.

“Barely heard ya come in.” He kisses you on the cheek. “How was it?”

“Annoying.” You say under your breath.

“Hm?”

“Good, it was good. Actually, it exhausted me.” Your mood had soured. “I just wanna chill out and watch Chopped.” The microwave goes off and you take your food out.

“Why was it exhausting?”

“Um…I told her about what happened over the weekend.” You say taking a bite of food.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Would you, um, like some time to yourself?” You smile at him.

“That would be kind of nice, actually.”

“Alright, I’ll just be upstairs.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

After you eat, you change into some of Harry’s sweats, and plop down on the sofa. You turn the TV on so you can watch Chopped. After the two episodes, and some time to yourself, you looked up towards the loft. You get up from the sofa and climb the spiral staircase. Harry had his headphones in and he was playing a video game. He pauses it when he sees you. You crawl right into his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your face into his neck. He wraps his arms around you as well and rubs your back.

“My sweet girl.” He coos.

“Miss you.” You nuzzle into him more. “Can we go cuddle in bed?”

“Mhm.”

You stand to get off him, and you both go down the stairs. You both go through your routines and get into bed.

“Harry, can I just lay on you for a bit?”

“Course, love.”

You shift and lay completely on top of him. Head resting on his chest, and legs on either side of his. His hands move up under your shirt just to rub your back. You sigh happily.

“So soft.” He coos. You smile against his chest.

“Harry?”

“Yes, love?”

“I love you more than anything, I hope you know that.”

“I do. I love you too.” He holds you a little tighter to him.

You fell asleep on top of him. He didn’t mind. He actually really liked when you were needy for a change. You were his sweet little angel.

[bxcketbarnes]

Teeth

gif made by @tothemoonmikey

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader

Words: 1200+

Author’s Note: This fucking music video and song is so fucking fire. It has inspired me to write this and I like this. This is cute. I hope you like it too! xox

My phone ringing and vibrating against the wooden nightstand is what woke me from my slumber. I groan a bit, squinting my eyes open as the sun shines through the blinds. I reach my hand out to where Ashton usually sleeps, finding the space empty and cold as I perk my head up a bit more.

"Ash?" I call out loudly while sitting up in bed, glancing towards the ringing phone. Ashton's picture is front and center as he was calling, meaning he's not at home. "Hey, baby," I say after answering the phone and run a hand through my hair.

"Hi, lovely. Sorry, I'm not there but the guys wanted to meet up for the release of Teeth," he mentions and I smile, shaking my head even though he can't see it.

"It's okay. I guess our morning cuddles will have to become evening cuddles," I tease and bite my lip.

Ashton lets out a chuckle and my heart melts at the sound. His laugh is one of my favorite things about him, among many other things. "I'm totally okay with that. We're gonna go to dinner tonight and the guys are wondering if you wanted to join us," he asks.

"Are they sure? It's more of a band thing and I don't want to intrude," I mumble while leaning back onto his pillows, inhaling the scent of him that was left behind.

"Yeah, of course! You've been by our side for years so this accomplishment is yours along with ours. Plus, I want you to come, of course."

A laugh leaves my lips, "of course you do. Alright, as long as you four are okay with it I'll go." I tell him with a smile.

"Of course it is! I'm gonna come home before the reservation so you can ride with me in Frankie," he lets me know and I nod my head, muttering an okie dokie before my phone beeps.

I pull it away from my ear, seeing Ashton trying to FaceTime me. "Ash! I look like garbage," I shriek after answering it, burying my head into his pillow.

"Now, that's impossible. I actually like how you look when you first wake up," he smiles and I scoff a bit and take a peek at the red-haired beauty that's on screen.

"Are you crazy?" I question him with an eyebrow raised.

"Crazy for you," Ashton winks and I let out a loud cackle, shaking my head.

"You're so fucking cheesy," I tell him and he shrugs his shoulders. "I love you."

He grins and blows me a kiss. "I love you so fucking much, baby girl. I'll see you later, okay?" I nod my head and hums an mhm while giving him a shit-eating grin. "Don't forget to watch our new video in fifteen minutes!"

"I will, I will!" I wave him off and he blows me another kiss before saying goodbye. My lips make a kissy noise and Ashton hangs up afterward.

I set my phone down on the bed, letting out a yawn as I hug the pillow I'm laying on. I end up falling back to sleep since it was still pretty early.

-

"Y/N, babe!?" Ashton's voice yells and I moan, shifting a little bit as I open my eyes slowly. Our bedroom door cracks open and his red hair is the first thing that comes through. "Baby? You okay?"

I nod my head, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What time is it?" I ask groggily as he sits down on his side of the bed where I'm currently laying.

"About 2:30," he mentions and combs his fingers through my snarly hair. "Did you sleep well last night?" Ash inquires and I shrug my shoulders.

"Kinda. I did toss and turn a lot, but these past few days at work have been exhausting, so maybe it's just catching up to me," I point out and he hums.

My hand reaches out towards him, fingers grazing his arm gently as Ashton smiles softly at me. He scoots closer to me, dipping his head down to press a gentle kiss to my lips. A giggle leaves my lips after he pulls away and my eyes widen as I realize I haven't seen the new music video yet.

"Shit, babe," I curse and sit up quickly before leaping out of bed to grab my computer. He looks at me with a confused expression and I continue, "I fell asleep before your video came out, so I haven't seen it yet."

A laugh leaves his lips and he shakes his head, moving to sit beside me as we rest our backs against the headboard. Ashton rests his large hand on my bare thigh as I bring up YouTube, seeing it's one of the first videos listed on my home page.

As the video starts and the opening begins to play I notice how fucking incredible Ashton looks in it. I bob my head to the music, quickly learning to the lyrics of it. The part where they're "playing" it live begins and I can't help but bite my lip as I watch the bits of Ashton slamming on the drums, his red hair going everywhere with his signature drumming look on his face.

Wow… That's… hot. 

I had my bottom lip between my teeth until it ended and the recommended videos pop up. I close out of Google Chrome, shutting my laptop and moving it to the side as I can feel Ash's hazel eyes staring into the side of my face.

"So?" He questions and I look towards him, feeling my heart pound a bit faster in my chest.

"I, uh, I have no words. It was amazing. The song? Incredible, babe. Catchy as fuck. Love the lyrics and the video? Fucking amazing, literally. You looked… so hot," I blurt out all at once as Ashton's lips form into a smirk.

"You thought I looked hot?" He asks and I nod my head, licking my lips.

"God, yes. The way your hair looked and how handsome you looked in the suit. And the way you banged on those drums? Fuck," I confess as I'm suddenly turned on.

He bites his lip a bit before his hands land on the back of my thighs, ushering me to move onto his lap. I straddle his hips and wrap my arms around his neck while my fingers dig into his hair.

"You want me to bang you like that?" He teases, his lips grazing mine. I nod my head beggingly, grinding myself on him as his fingers dig into my thighs and a groan leaves his lips.

Ashton moves, holding me against his body as he gets up and moves us to the en suite. "Shower sex?" I ask with a raised brow and he nods, smirking.

"Yeah. We have to shower for dinner anyway, so why not kill two birds with one stone?" He mentions and I chuckle.

I press a rough kiss to his lips as he sets me on the sink, both of us getting rid of the clothes we were wearing. "What a great idea, Mr. Irwin," I wink and he hums, leaning up to bite my bottom lip.

"You know it. Now, are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

I nod my head, biting my lip after he pulls away to turn the water on. Ashton walks back towards me, lifting me in his arms before bringing us into the shower, pressing my back against the cold wall.

"Please, Ash," I breathlessly moan as his lips attack my collarbones and breasts, "please take me."

-

Taglist: @h0tsos @thebookamongmen @ashtonsunshine @bumblebet-20 @asht0ns-world @singt0mecalum @maddz-world @gotta-try-something-new @twilightparker @ashs-cheergirl @therainydays4 @thatcheekychic @dashlilymark @shower-me-with-roses @aftermidnightclifford @lukeskisses @fayesfairylights @morningfears

[camiddletonxox]

Just One Goddamn Kiss

Pairing - Avery Wilshire x Charity Middleton (Platinum)

Rating - Teen I guess as sex is mentioned 🤷🏻‍♀️

Note - This is my vision of Charity’s family and who they are I guess. This is post book 1

Tag list - @drakewalkerfantasy @ao719 @princess-geek @polishchoicesfan @binny1985 @desireepow-1986 @adriansbiss @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @hatescapsicum @itscassandral @gardeningourmet @thequeenofcronuts @heauxplesslydevoted @kaavyaethanramsey @choicesolivia @choicesolivia @regencylady1810 @dailydoseofchoices @storyofmychoices @sushiharrington

—————-

Summary - Taking Avery to her grandparents farm, all she wants is to give one kiss! JUST ONE!

Word Count - 1057

——————————

Avery and Charity had took a visit to Charity’s grandparents farm where her mother, Catherine and her father Graham were. She was so excited to see her parents as she hadn’t seen them in so long, they had fallen out before One in a Million and had now made up. Charity’s brothers Nicholas, Kyle and Matthew were also there with their wives and children. The family, excluding her grandparents had previously met the British star at

Arriving at the scenic farm, Charity led her boyfriend across the field leading up to a beautiful looking farm house, the wall decorated in wall flowers, the stables were close by.

“This feels very cozy” Avery observed, squeezing his girlfriends hand as they walked, he was in amazement at how beautiful the scenery was.

“Its amazing, wait till you see the field behind the house” Charity answered, turning to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and she went to kiss him when the door opened, her grandfather Bob chuckled.

“I thought I heard you, missy” The older man chuckled and Charity turned around before throwing her arms around her grandfather who she was super close to.

“Granddad! Hi!” She beamed, the older man wore his grey v-neck jumper and his black trousers, the 71 year old looked good for his age. She pulled from the hug, kissiing her grandfathers cheek.

“Hi buttercup, who is this dashing gentleman?” The older man looked at Avery.

“Granddad this is Avery, my boyfriend. Avery, this is my granddad Bob. He is my dad’s father” she beamed.

“Wasn’t Avery your teacher on one in a million buttercup?” The older man questioned, he was getting old, it was hard to remember what his son would tell him.

“He was my mentor, Granddad. We got together after One in a million” Charity explained.

“He seems to make you happy, you are beaming” her grandfather chuckled, putting a hand out for her boyfriend to shake, “Welcome to the family, lad. My wife and I have a lot of photos to show you of when my buttercup was only a little buttercup” The older gentleman beamed as he spoke, he was a proud grandfather, and his youngest granddaughter was his secret favourite and the fact he could tell all the men at the navy club his granddaughter was a pop princess just made it better.

“Its a pleasure to meet you, Charity always talks about you” Avery smiles.

“Oh, I’m sure she does, she spent a lot of time with us when she was growing up, never could stop her singing” Her granddad smiled at the fond memory of his granddaughter.

“She told me it was her who convinced you and your wife to get horses” Avery smiled as he spoke. For him, meeting little Charitys hero was more intimidating then he ever had expected it to be but her grandfather was so down to earth, clearly had a soft spot for his youngest granddaughter

“Yes, my youngest granddaughter is definitely persuasive, please come in both of you” The older gentleman stepped back to allow them to walk in the house

Once in the house, Charity’s grandmother greeted them both.

“Charity, sweetheart” she beamed, her grandmother was a beautiful lady for her age, and it was clear Charity’s beauty was inherited from her grandmother.

“Hey Grandma, this is my boyfriend Avery, Avery this is my grandma, Sue” she smiled as the older woman hugged her granddaughter.

“Its a pleasure to meet the crush who became the boyfriend” Sue beamed and hugged Avery too. Once her grandmother had gone to get them a drink Charity pulled Avery close to her and was about to press her lips to his but a little boy bounded in.

“Harry, its Auntie Charity” the overly excited little boy beamed and ran into his aunt, hugging her legs, couldn’t they just have a kiss

“Hey Max, oh you have grown up so much, can I have a hug?” Charity spoke softly, hiding her annoyance at not getting to kiss Avery, all she wanted was one goddamn kiss, was that too much to ask.

“You brought him, eww” the little boy pulled a face at his auntie as he held onto her as Catherine walked through. Avery found the idea off her nephew being a bit cheeky towards him adorable, he hoped one day if it ever came, him and Charity could be parents.

“Come on Max, finish your food like your mummy asked you too” she spoke and the little boy groaned and ran off, muttering. Catherine gave her a daughter a smile. “Hey honey, Dad is through in the lounge” her mother spoke.

“Oh I’ll go see him” Charity smiled, a smile on her face, she felt like shouting just let me kiss my boyfriend but she knew her father would take great pleasure in teasing her and making silly kiss noises. What a family she had she thought to herself, she loves them dearly but she just wanted one kiss from her boyfriend. When she walked into the living room, she found her oldest brother Kyle with his son, Jordan.

“Hey look its my amazing pop princess baby sister” Kyle hugged his little sister. Graham greeted Avery, the two of them seemed to get on. The moment he met his only daughter’s boyfriend, he immediately welcomed him to the family.

“Its so good that my princess remembers her roots, now shes so famous” her father teases as her brother released her from that big brotherly hug and her father enveloped her in a big dad hug. Once he pulled away, Charity insisted she must introduce Avery to the horses and managed to drag him away and Avery chuckled.

“It seems your family don’t want us to kiss at all” He joke and Charity rolled her eyes, she on one hand just wanted to press her lips against those luscious ones he possessed.

“Ugh, its not like we want to have sex infront of my father” Charity rolled her eyes, she was a tad dramatic at times but Avery loved her all the same.

“Maybe we can kiss now” Avery whispered softly and the two of them kissed just outside the stables, the feeling of kissing one another was a delight every time they kissed but something about their location made it romantic...

[chromecutie]

Cable x Reader - burlesque fluff!

A/N - unedited because I got sleepy but I still wanted y'all to be able to enjoy it for Saturday Night!

Tag: @starman-thorsus-canos-jock @emma-frxst (idk who else would want to be on a Cable taglist if I had one, but here y'all go!)

________

It was a Saturday night, and the team managed to not have a mission. Colossus tried to suggest a board game from the fancy high-strategy collection, but was quickly shot down by Wade (“What, so Domino can ruin us all again? I don’t think so!”). Wade tried to suggest a movie, but Cable cut him off before he could finish his suggestion (“I cannot watch the porno version of Predator again.”).

Domino hoped you might make a suggestion everyone could agree to, and finally asked, “Where the hell is Y/N?”

Wade howled at the top of his lungs, “YYYYY/NNNNN???”

“SHE’S NOT HERE,” Cable practically roared to make himself heard.

Colossus couldn’t help glancing around. He hadn’t noticed when you left, and felt a little embarrassed like he’d made a rookie mistake. “Do you know where she went?”

Cable fixed his gaze back on the gun he was cleaning. It was already clean; at this point he was fidgeting. “If she wanted us to know,” he hedged, “she would’ve said something before she left.”

“Ohhhh my god,” Wade gasped, “You do know!” He clapped his hands, excited to play a guessing game. “What’s she up to? Underground boxing? Secret meth habit? Robbing a bank?”

“No.”

“High stakes poker? Cock fighting?”

“No!”

They all said some variation of, “Then what??” in unison.

Cable sighed. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to see you, but he was pretty sure you wouldn’t want the whole gang showing up. Surely, if you had, you would have dropped some kind of hint. “We gotta dress up,” he said finally. “Black tie. And we gotta pick up flowers on the way.”

…

The gang had done their best on short notice. Domino wore a short, black cocktail dress cut so tight it was a wonder it didn’t split when she got in and out of the car. Colossus still wore his cargo pants and work boots, but classed up with a dress shirt, black suit jacket, and a tie. Wade, to no one’s surprise but everyone’s quiet exasperation, was in full Deadpool gear with a bow tie. Cable had managed to find a full three-piece suit, and though it wasn’t a perfect fit, he made it work. In his metal hand he held a bouquet of roses. They weren’t the freshest flowers, but they were the best that the store had.

They stood in the parking lot of a shabby strip mall and Domino said, “Looks like a nice neighborhood to sell your kidney.”

“This way,” Cable led them to the back door of one of the suites. He knocked and was quickly greeted by a drag queen in green glitter eyeshadow and three-inch long lashes.

“Hi honey,” the queen made a kissy noise and asked, “Who y’all with tonight?”

“Liz Lugosi,” Cable said as if he had been here several times.

The queen lit up with glee and put a long-fingered hand on Cable’s shoulder. “Ohhh! Lizzie didn’t mention anyone coming tonight!”

Cable gestured vaguely to the roses. “She’s not expecting us.”

The queen made a purse-lipped smile and shimmied her shoulders, hardly able to wait until she could spill this tea later. The team paid for their tickets and were ushered inside to pick a table.

The floor was full of glammed up people milling about, sipping cocktails and snacking on Chex Mix. The tables all faced a makeshift stage with a curtain made of cheap velvet. “What is this place?” Colossus folded himself into a chair that was too small for him, but he wouldn’t complain.

“It’s a kids’ ballet studio during the day,” Cable replied. “This is probably how they pay rent, though.”

Domino caught on and grinned, “It’s a speakeasy burlesque show.”

Wade cracked up laughing in earnest. Pretending to wipe away tears from his mask, he said, “What’s her act? Kicking off her boots and sexily peeling off a spandex onesie?”

“You’ll see,” Cable said impatiently. “Shit like this is probably why Y/N - Liz - never mentioned it, you assclown.”

The show started soon enough. Three performers in sparkly costumes made a show of sneaking out from behind the curtain. Each held a microphone. “Good eeeevening, daaaarlings!” the one in purple sequins drawled. The crowd applauded, some hooted.

The second performer wore something like a green velvet bikini with a lot of feathers. She tossed her blonde curls and said, “Who here has been to our show before? Come on, make some noise!” Almost everyone gave a shout except Cable, Wade, Domino, and Colossus.

“I don’t know that we should have come here,” Colossus whispered. Domino hushed him quickly.

The third performer wore a long, black satin robe, trimmed in purple rhinestones that glittered in the stage lights. She wore a wig of bright pink waves and cocked a hip as she turned toward their table. “I understand we’ve got some new blood in the house tonight.” The pink-haired performer sauntered between tables as she continued in a sultry purr, “So let’s go over the ground rules. If you’ve been here before, say them with me! Rule One!”

The audience responded, slightly drunk and mostly in unison, “No photos or video! We do this show live and only live!”

“That’s right,” she let out an easy giggle. “Rule Two?”

“No touching the performers unless you are specifically asked!” One young woman added in a buzzed, but enthusiastic slur, “Consent fucking matters!”

“YES, HONEY!” the blonde in the green bikini agreed.

The pink-wigged woman beamed. “Wonderful. You know, just to make a point,” she went over to the buzzed woman’s table. “Why don’t you give me a good slap on the ass, huh? Not too high on the cheek now, nice and low.” She leaned over, sticking out her round butt. When the patron gave a smack loud enough for every table to hear, the performer snapped straight again with a surprised hoot. “That’s how I like it! Haha, and Rule Three, let’s go!” She gestured grandly, long sleeves swaying.

The veteran audience chorused, “If you see something you like, make some noise!”

The three performers gathered in front of the curtain again and struck a sexy pose that showed off cleavage, thighs, and arched spines. The crowd made a good ruckus of whistling and applause, the X-Force gang included.

The show continued - there was an opening group number, the drag queen from the entrance sang a parody cover of a popular love song, there were a few aerial silks numbers, and of course classic burlesque striptease. Domino and Wade had gotten comfortable quickly, cheering and applauding each performer like they were the sexiest they had ever seen. Colossus took a while to loosen up, but even he enjoyed the athletic fluidity of the silks performers. Strength, flexibility, and making it all look beautiful with a big showgirl smile? Gold star in Colossus’s book. Each performer had gotten a funny and colorful introduction by the drag queen, who was emceeing most of the show.

“Our last lady of the night,” the queen teased, “has a slither that’ll make you shiver and she has NOOO idea how to just SIT in a chair!” The crowd chuckled. The drag queen bobbed her head and gave a wide flourish, “Just make sure you check for fangs before you kiss her - it’s Liiiiz Lugosiiii!!!!” The crowd hollered and clapped as the curtain drew back, revealing the pink wigged woman with the black satin robe.

Something steamy and full of saxophone blared over the sound system as Y/N, aka Liz Lugosi, swirled her robe - and disappeared. She reappeared a few feet away in a puff of smoke, similar to Colossus’s friend Kurt. As Liz Lugosi swirled, floated, and poofed around the stage, Colossus couldn’t help but note that where Kurt’s ability was abrupt like popping a balloon full of smoke, Y/N was smooth and soft, like drips of ink in water. A simple folding chair was on the stage, and in another few beats, Liz let her robe slide from her shoulders, down her back, and onto the floor. Domino glanced over at Cable and saw his face was relaxed in a gentle smile, eyes shining in the light.

Liz Lugosi turned to the front - and revealed that she appeared to be wearing nothing but black and purple rhinestones. Of course, her thong and pasties were there, but they matched her skin tone and the stones and beads had been carefully stitched and glued to cover them. The crowd screeched their appreciation. Wade yelled, “Holy shit!” but Cable barely even registered it.

“How did you find out about this?” Colossus asked him.

Cable answered without taking his eyes off Y/N, “I followed her to rehearsal once, to see where she goes.”

The stage floor filled with rolling fog as Liz Lugosi tossed her pink waves and slid over the chair so her chest was on the seat and her legs arched over her head. The rest of her routine was a series of acrobatic rolls and stands on and around the chair. Just when it looked like she would sit normally, she would turn and suddenly she was upside down, nearly sitting her butt on her head, with her legs in a deep split.

“Is that a mutation?” Domino asked, astounded.

“No,” Cable beamed, absolutely smitten, “she can just do that.”

Wade clapped for a particularly unexpected roll off of the chair. “I can’t believe she’s been holding out on us!”

Colossus agreed, smiling despite the awkwardness of seeing a coworker mostly naked for the first time, “You can tell how much she’s enjoying herself.”

As her number ended, Liz Lugosi bowed, dramatically tossing her pink waves. The team cheered louder than any other table and drew her attention. If she was caught by surprise, she didn’t let it show, maintaining her stage persona. She swayed her wide hips over to their table, and made the rounds expressing her thanks. She kissed Colossus on the cheek and left a red print on his chrome skin, though he froze when her boobs touched his arm. Domino soaked it up when she got a kiss on the cheek too. Wade didn’t get a kiss until he laid his palms on the table, and he all but squealed with delight. Cable, subdued and a little sheepish, offered the roses when she got to him. Instead of kissing his cheek, she pressed her lips to his and made it steamy enough that the crowd hooted and whistled louder than ever.

Y/N pulled away and teased in Cable’s ear, “Do I need to learn to cover my tracks better?”

“Aw, I hope you never do,” he was still grinning like a fool, “I’ve been wanting to bring you flowers for a while.”

She pulled away and she was Liz Lugosi again. Bouquet cradled against her heart, she winked and sashayed back to the stage to pick up her robe. The curtain closed, and Cable didn’t even try to hide how light and pleased he felt after getting to kiss the woman he’d been quietly pining after for months.

[gimmesumsuga]

Sweeter Than Sweet (17)

Pairing: Jimin x reader, Yoongi x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: Mild angst

Word count: 3.4K

Previous / Next 

When you get back to Jimin’s room you’re thankful to find it stood empty, pushing the door behind you with a sigh of relief.  At least this way you’ve got a moment to collect your thoughts and think about what on earth you’re going to say to him when he finally does reappear.  You want answers for the way he acted last night - to know if he’d meant those things awful things he’d said so you’re able to figure out what that means for you if he did.  You’d rather not hang around somewhere you’re not wanted, even if every fibre of your body tells you otherwise.

For now you head towards the bathroom, figuring that getting out of these clothes would be a good start to whatever tonight might bring.  Showering always helps you clear your head and think, even when everything outside of the cubicle might seem overwhelming.

Before you can even reach the door, however, it suddenly swings open toward you.  Startled, You jump back from Jimin as he appears in the doorway.  He’s topless, towel-drying his wet hair, and you curse yourself for the way your body betrays you, becoming immediately weak-kneed at the sight of him.  How does he always manage to make you feel this way, even when you should feel nothing but anger?  You swallow hard as he passes, turning on the spot to watch him go and frowning when you notice the dusting of purple bruises along his ribs.

“You’re hurt,” you observe as Jimin discards his wet towel, throwing it onto the bed.  He twists, looking down at his ribs with a wry smile and then glances over to you.

“It’s nothing.”  You ‘hm’ in response, not sure what else to say but quickly coming to detest the awkward silence that’s stretching out between the two of you.  You both just stand there looking back at one another, unmoving and unspeaking as the seconds drag on.

Eventually, it’s Jimin that speaks first.

“You spent the night with Yoongi-hyung?”  he asks, coming straight to the point.  He’s already looked you up and down and taken in what you’re wearing, the way his jaw had tightened when he did so was impossible not to notice, and when you roll your eyes at him Jimin’s gaze darkens.

“Some of it,” you reply defensively, folding your arms across your chest.

“Oh?”  He takes a step towards you, sneering coldly, “Just how many different beds did you go hopping into?”  The accusation hiding in Jimin’s question really gets your blood boiling, roaring in your eyes, and you clench your fists as your temper starts to flare.  It’s a rare occurrence for you, but you’re not about to let that stop you.   

“Well I figured, why not?  It’s not like I’m welcome in your bed anymore, is it?” you snap back and Jimin’s eyes narrow, his chest heaving with the anger you know he’s holding back, biting his tongue inside his mouth.  You stare back at him in defiance, daring him to say more, but Jimin doesn’t take the bait.  

He turns away from you, raking his fingers roughly through his hair, all the muscles of his back knotted tight.  He looks like he’s struggling to contain his temper, just like you, so as he’s pacing and huffing you try your best to take a few deep breaths and calm down.  It won’t do any good having both of you as angry as one another, so it falls to you to try and be the bigger person.  

Eventually, Jimin comes back to stand in front of you and takes a second to close his eyes and exhale heavily before speaking, letting his shoulders relax and sag.  It reminds you of the way he had to calm himself when he’d been arguing with Namjoon, and it makes you sad that it’s come to this between you.  When Jimin opens up his eyes again he looks much more collected than he did before; regretful, even.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, and you can tell that Jimin doesn’t find those words easy to say. “The way I spoke to you last night was… harsh, to say the least, and I feel like shit about it.”  As if he’s expecting you to recoil, Jimin cautiously reaches out and places a hand on each of your arms, squeezing gently.

“You really hurt me,” you whisper as you look down to the floor, trying to hold back the tears that are prickling in your eyes.  You don’t want to cry now, not when he’s trying to make it right, but just the fact that he’s being nice to you is getting you all choked up again.

“I know.”  You’re glad Jimin’s acknowledging the pain he caused, and that he’s gracious enough to look truly sorry about it.  It still doesn’t explain why he acted like that in the first place, though, and you’re just about to questioning him when Jimin starts speaking again, releasing your arms.  “That’s why I got you something.”   Suddenly he’s smiling brightly, full of excitement for whatever it is he has to show you.  

You’d almost forgotten just how beautiful his smile is with everything that’s been happening between the two of you, so despite feeling a little frustrated about getting side-lined from the issue at hand you decide to let it go for now, watching Jimin curiously and wondering what he has in store.

He walks around to the opposite side of the bed and lifts a plastic box off of from the floor, placing it down on the bedsheets with great care and quickly you realise it’s not just any box.  It’s an animal carrier; you can tell by the grated door at the front.

“Come see,” he encourages, beckoning you over, and as you approach, bending low to look inside, excitement starts to bubble in your stomach.  Kneeling down at the end of the bed you peer into the box, squinting hard, and at first you can’t see anything at all until the slightest of movement catches your eye, right at the back. Suddenly two wide, green eyes open up, peering back out at you through the darkness.

“Oh!” you exclaim, your hands coming up to your mouth with surprise, eyes darting upward to look at Jimin watching you with glee, smiling so hard that he’s all teeth and cheeks and not much else.  “A cat?”  You feel yourself start to grin too, barely daring to believe your eyes.  “You got me a cat?”  He nods, leaning over to unlock the carrier door and open it wide.

“I heard you telling Taehyungie you’d like one.”  You almost falter for a moment then, realising that if Jimin was awake to hear you say that then he must have been awake to witness the whole Taehyung-tickling-fiasco, but if it had bothered him back then it certainly doesn’t look as though it’s bothering him now.  “I thought she could keep you company when I’m not around.”

You don’t know what to say.  You’re completely overcome by how unexpectedly thoughtful he’s been, gazing up at him speechlessly with a stupid, goofy smile on your face.  He laughs, patting the top of the box softly and bobbing his head toward it.  “Call her out then, she’s yours.”

Yours?  She’s really, really yours?  You’ve always wanted a cat, but your parents never really liked pets and your apartment was always too small to get one yourself.

“What’s her name?”  you ask, peering inside again.  She’s still watching you from the back of the carrier, her tail flicking nervously to and fro.

“The woman at the shelter said they’d been calling her Nova.”

“Nova,” you repeat, trying it out, and you see her ears swivel at the sound of her name.  “Nova,” you call, your voice high and sweet, and when that doesn’t do the trick you start making kissy noises too, alternating between that and her name in an attempt to lure her out.   

“Try these,” Jimin suggests, shaking some fishy smelling treats from a packet into your hand.  She immediately looks more interested, starting to creep forward out of the box towards your open palm.  

“Come on Nova, good kitty,” you beckon, moving your hand further backward to tempt her out.   When she’s finally out Jimin removes the box from the bed and you let her catch up to your hand, keeping it very still as she takes the treats one by one.  She’s a gorgeous; black from head to toe, fur shiny and sleek, and she’s so slinky and delicate that you wonder whether she might have some Siamese breeding in her.  

Once she’s done eating she sits back on her heels and starts to preen herself, looking surprisingly at home already.

“She’s beautiful Jimin, thank you,” you smile, gingerly reaching out your hand and running it along her spine.  She flinches away from it initially, but with a little gentle persistence she soon becomes accustomed to you, going back about her business whilst you stroke her to your heart’s content.  

“I’m glad you like her,” Jimin smiles back, coming to stand beside you and mirroring the way you’re stroking Nova’s hair with your own.  “Come here, kitten,” he beckons, taking your hand and helping you to stand, so close to one another that your chests are touching.  As always, Jimin’s close proximity makes it a struggle for you to breathe, so overwhelmed are you by his presence and the intensity of his gaze.  He takes a gentle hold of your chin.  “Am I forgiven?”  You’re not sure he is, but you can’t find your tongue to tell him so, your eyes flopping closed as he leans in to kiss you.

When his lips don’t meet yours, halting just a breath away, your eyes re-open.  What’s stopped him?  Jimin pulls back, letting going of your chin and stepping away from you wearing a grimace as though he’s stepped in something unpleasant.

“Jimin, what’s wrong?” you ask, anxiety skyrocketing.  You can’t take another rebuffal, not again, please.  

“I can smell Yoongi-hyung all over you,” he replies, wrinkling his nose as he once again glares at what you’re wearing.  “Go shower and take off those clothes; my scent suits you far better.”  

Clearly Nova’s arrival hasn’t fully repaired the damage that was done last night because hearing Jimin speak to you that way – like you’re some piece of property – riles you right back up again, your skin prickling all over with irritation.  Jimin seems utterly oblivious to the way you’re frowning, happily bending down and starting to unpack the bags of various cat accessories he’s bought.  There’s a lovely blue velvet cat bed, a scratching post and lots of little toys; some dangling on string, some with feathers, some stuffed with catnip to drive her crazy.  It’d be easy to let yourself get distracted – the idea of playing with Nova far more appealing than starting another fight – but you know you need to get to the bottom of what happened before you lose the chance once and for all.

“Jimin?”  He looks up at you from where he’s crouched on the floor.  “We need to talk about yesterday.”

“What’s there still to talk about?”  he asks, lifting his eyebrows, “I said I was sorry.”  He gets up and comes to stand nearer to you, but you almost wish he wouldn’t.  Feeling brave was easier when you were taller and able to look down on him.

“You can’t just buy me a cat and expect everything to magically be ok,” you explain, trying to be reasonable, but it comes out sounding whinier than you would have liked.  Jimin sighs, pushing his hair back with exasperation and moistening his lips.

“Ok.  Talk.”  He looks at you expectantly and you shift your weight from foot to foot, glancing down at the floor, suddenly full of nerves.  You’re not even sure what to start, really.

“Lately, I’ve sort of been feeling like there’s… something… between us,” you begin, pausing to gauge Jimin’s reaction and sagging a little when there is none,  “Like with the other night in the garden, and when we...”  A blush rises on your cheeks as you gesture towards the bed where Nova is lying, curled up and fast asleep, and when you turn back to Jimin you see the tiniest of smirks creep onto his face.  “It didn’t feel just a casual thing, not at all, not until yesterday.  I’m so confused, Jimin; you blow hot and then you’re cold, you push me away but then you do the sweetest things.”  You sigh, looking up at him beseechingly from under your eyelashes, but Jimin seems to be doing all he can to avoid your gaze.  “I need to tell me how you feel … so that I can know how I should be feeling, too.”

Jimin swallows as he wraps his arms around himself, looking away from you.  You’ve never seen him look like this before; so small and unsure, like a lost little boy.  You want to wrap him in your arms and kiss it all away, but you know that’ll never get you the answers you need that way.  It’s far too easy to get lost in him if you let yourself, and before now you’d always thought you’d be able to read how he feels through his actions alone, but that’s obviously not the case.  Right now only words will do, so you maintain your distance and wait for an answer.

It doesn’t come, though, and the seconds stretch into minutes before your patience finally wears thin.

“Do you even care about me at all?!” you ask sharply and with that Jimin’s head snaps back to face you, scowling hard.

“Of course I do!” he growls, like you were stupid to even have to ask.

“Then are you pushing me away?”  You step toward him, closing the small amount space left between you and place your hands on his forearms.  “What are you so afraid of?”

“You!”  Jimin shouts, jerking away, turning on the spot and running his fingers through his hair.

“Me?” you scoff.  Why the hell would a creature like Jimin be afraid of you?

“Yes, you!”  Jimin looks frantic right now, like a cornered animal, hands remaining fixed in his hair as he paces back and forth.  When you look a little closer, stepping forward, you’re shocked to see that he’s almost on the verge of tears, his pretty eyes glimmering with moisture.  “I’m afraid of you getting hurt, of being the one that hurts you. Of losing you, of-“ he hesitates, coming to a standstill and dropping his hands so his arms dangle limply at his sides, “-Of the way you’re making me feel.  I haven’t felt anything in so long… I’m frightened of what’ll happen if I really let myself go.”   Jimin presses his lips together, turning his face to the floor with a defeated shake of his head.  You’re dumbstruck, stood there rooted to the spot whilst your heart pounds away in your chest, too stunned for words.

So that’s why he acted the way he did.  He wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt you - he was just trying to protect himself, to keep himself from becoming too exposed, too vulnerable.  Your poor, sweet Jimin… he really is just as soft as Yoongi said.

“Jimin,” you whisper, aching with the need to touch him.  He looks up at you, a wet tear line trailing down each of his cheeks, bottom lip practically trembling, and seeing him that way forces you into motion.  You throw yourself into his arms, clutching at his bare back and squeezing him in the tightest hug you possibly can.  “I know you’d never hurt me,” you tell him fiercely, your words muffled by the kisses you’re placing on his chest over and over again. His arms come to rest around you too, holding you just as tight as he presses his face to the top of your head.  “And I will never, ever hurt you, either, Jimin.  I promise.”  You feel Jimin’s chest swell with feeling against yours as he presses a kiss to your hair, and you know that he’s listening - that he’s trying to believe in what you’re saying.  You tilt your face upward to look at him, butterflies whirling in your stomach when your eyes meet and you see the sheer amount of emotion shining down back at you.  

You want to tell him that you love him, the words lingering like a lump in your throat that you can’t push down, but it’s too soon.  You can’t risk scaring him away, not now; not when he’s opened himself up to you like this.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” you tell him honestly, holding his gaze and loving the little smile that lights up his face when he hears your words.  “This is scary for me too.”  Jimin’s hand comes up to cup caress your cheek, grazing his thumb along the angle of your cheekbone.

“You don’t ever need to be scared of me,” he says in the softest, sweetest of voices, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, and you know it’s true.  You know now that Jimin would never hurt you deliberately, be it physically or emotionally – you just wish you’d known it before.   Jimin brushes his pillowy lips against yours in a chaste kiss, curling his arm even tighter around your waist to keep you close as you melt against him.  

You wish you could make him realise just how much he means to you.  When he stops kissing you and places his forehead back to yours you raise a hand to his face, gently wiping away the remnants of tears from each cheek and smiling up at him as you do.

“I want you to know... I didn’t sleep with Yoongi.  I mean, we slept together but not like that.”

“You didn’t?”  Even though it didn’t necessarily need saying you’re immediately glad that you’ve told him, because the look of relief on Jimin’s face is heart-breakingly sweet.  Sticking with honestly, you nervously disclose the kiss to him too.

“But I stopped it,” you assure him, placing the flat of your palm against his chest, “I do care about Yoongi, and I know he cares about me too… but with you it’s… more.”  Jimin’s face had initially hardened when you’d mentioned the kiss, but the longer you talk the more you see his features relax again, that little smile of his cautiously reappearing.  “There’s another thing I didn’t tell you, too,” you add, biting your bottom lip as he cocks his head to the side curiously, waiting.  “You were my... first.”

Jimin’s eyebrows crease in confusion for a moment as he tries to work out what you mean, thinking so hard you can almost see how hard his brain is working behind his eyes.  Suddenly, his brows spring upward again, his whole face opening up wide with surprise.

“You were a virgin?”  You nod, biting your lip again to hold back the laugh that’s trying to escape.  He looks so adorable when he’s shocked, his mouth hanging open comically.  “The thought had crossed my mind, I’ll admit, but… but you did so well, I never thought…”  You blush at his praise, glancing down to the floor, so glad to hear that your inexperience didn’t give you away, but when you look up you notice that his surprise has quickly morphed into dismay.  “And the way I spoke to you afterwards, after your first time…” He trails off, his eyes looking off elsewhere as he becomes lost in thought.  Jimin releases you and takes a step back, as though he feels he doesn’t deserve to touch you.  “God, I really am a fucking jerk.”

“Jimin, it’s ok.  Really,” you tell him, attempting to soothe his conscience as Jimin drags a hand through his hair.

“It’s not ok,” he disagrees, his eyes landing on you again, something urgent entering his expression as he says your name, stepping close to you and taking both your hands in his.  “Let me make it up to you, kitten.”  He lifts your joined hands to his mouth and rains kisses down on them, all over your knuckles and your palms, dragging his teeth along your skin to make you shiver. “Let me make you feel good.”  You’re lost already, breathless as you agree with a nod of your head and a softly whispered,

“Ok.”

[xukunstellation]

Perfect || Li Quanzhe

Title: Perfect Pairing: Reader x Quanzhe Genre: fluff Word Count: 1848 words Summary: Seeing how insecure your boyfriend is breaks your heart, so you have every intent in telling him how amazing he actually is.

A/N: You guys have no idea how soooooft Quanzhe makes me. This little hamster is literally one of the cutest beings I’ve ever laid eyes on. This request had a loooot of specific details to it, so I did my best to try and do him justice in this fic. I also tweaked the request just a little bit in order to make the fic more realistic. This ended up becoming super long, so I’m putting this under the cut. Please love and support this baby!

help

the gif for him for this fic makes me so :(((

how can someone be so cute ??

he looks so squishy i cry

so you and quanzhe have only recently started dating

you both were relatively new to the whole relationship thing

which means lots of awkward and shy moments between you two

but you both really like each other and make each other happy so it was worth it

if anything, it made you like him even more

it was a bit of a surprise that the two of you were dating to begin with due to the fact that it seemed like you and quanzhe came from two different worlds

quanzhe attended yuehua academy with his six childhood friends, who all varied in grade levels

at his school, he was what people called the “nerdy” type 

which honestly meant he excelled in his studies, usually placing at the top of his class

we love a smart boy

he was more on the quiet side and preferred to be in the shadows unlike his more exuberant friends such as justin and chengcheng

who are always teasing and pulling pranks on him jfc zhengting control your kids

not many people pay attention to quanzhe since he was literally just another face in the crowd (unless they knew him as the really smart kid from class)

but that was perfectly fine with him since all he needed was his own close knit of hooligans friends

meanwhile you attended oaca academy where you were relatively popular since you were an absolute social butterfly

in short, you were a complete ray of sunshine and positivity so people naturally flocked to you

your best friend was zuo ye who eagerly introduced you to his own group of friends (peiyao, zimo, mubo, and qin fen)

with you and zuo ye being the babies of the group, they’re always teasing the hell out of you two

but if anyone else tried to do the same, you’d better be ready to catch these hands watch out

they’re so overprotective of you

it’s all out of love tho

they were also the ones that helped get you and quanzhe together

but that’s a story for another time (hint hint) 

since you and quanzhe went to different schools, you had to find other ways to see each other

no one outside of your friend groups knew the two of you were dating, mainly because you always met up during times when not many other outsiders were around

you always showed up with food and drinks for him during his vocal and dance practices after school

his group of friends literally adore you as much as they adore himself since you’re always taking care of him

zhengting basically adopts you

congrats you earned yourself a boyfriend plus a mom and five brothers for free

quanzhe does his best to return the favor by walking you to and from school since you lived relatively close to each other

sometimes he comes over to your place to hang out or help you with your school work

the oaca boys have a tendency to show up at your house during these times no matter how hard qin fen and mubo try to stop them smh

you had to stop zuo ye and zimo from continuously pinching your boyfriend’s cheeks bc it’s lowkey annoying to him

but he lets only you get away with it bc he likes you so much

however, sometimes it was really difficult to see each other whenever your schedules didn’t line up

although texts and calls made up for some of it, you wished you got to see more of your little hamster

as luck would have it, you ended up moving to your aunt’s place in order to help her run her shop 

guess what was down the block? 

yuehua academy

so as a surprise, you decided to transfer over to yuehua academy in hopes that you were able to share some classes with your boyfriend (which you did luckily)

you peeked into your new homeroom that you knew you shared with quanzhe, scanning the room for his figure

his back was turned away from you, so you slowly crept your way to him and put a finger to your lips to hush chengcheng, justin and xinchun from shouting and giving you away

placing your hands gently over his eyes, you whispered in his ear “guess who”

quanzhe jumped in fear from the surprise attack before spinning around and staring at you with wide eyes, unable to comprehend that you were standing right in front of him

“surprise!” 

“(y-y/n)? oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“it just so happens that i go here now. are you not excited to see your girlfriend?” you pouted playfully just to tease him

activate panic mode

“no! i mean, yes! uh, i mean, i’m just really shocked that you’re here and ah-”

poor boy was about to cry omg 

you immediately hug him, wrapping your arms around his torso lovingly, “i know i know, i’m just teasing you, sweetie.”

you leaned up and kissed his cheek causing quanzhe to flush red in an instant at the pda

the three other boys were making kissy noises and hugging each other like the immature children they were smh

although you transferred in the middle of the school year, your reputation as a social butterfly at oaca continued at yuehua where you were easily able to fit in with the crowd

although you were able to make new friends, you preferred staying near the comfort of your boyfriend and his friends (who has already accepted you into the group long before)

now that you got to see him more often every day, you took the chance to be more openly affectionate with him since he was so shy and innocent-like

you knew that quanzhe wasn’t the best at showing his affection

he was always worrying about whether or not he was pushing himself onto you or if you would think he was weird for initiating something

was his hand too sweaty in yours? was it okay for him to hug you before you entered class? oh gOD YOU CAUGHT HIM STARING AND NOW YOU PROBABLY THINK HE’S CREEPY ASDSHJD

being the good significant other you were, you knew all of this so you never pressured him into acting a certain way just because you were dating

you learned to read when he was too scared to ask to hold your hand or even hug you, so you didn’t mind taking initiative

he nearly faints whenever you kiss him, even if it’s a simple peck on the cheek

you have zhengting on speed dial in case quanzhe does faint but he doesn’t know that

bc you learned to read him so well, it didn’t take long for you to notice him start to act differently around you

you noticed how his hand would falter or even pull away from yours whenever someone attractive merely glanced your way in the hallways

he would grow really quiet whenever you’re talking to zeren, wenjun or any of the other guys

you could tell his smile was forced every time someone made an off-hand comment about your relationship, usually people wondering how the “nerd” was able to date the popular chick (he always held you back from throwing hands at those people tho)

all of this worried you so you confronted him about it as you walked back home from school

“sweetie, can we talk?”

you saw him become uneasy with your words but nodded, “sure. what’s up?”

“you’ve been acting really strange lately. you’re not acting like yourself and i’m really worried. you know you can tell me whenever something is bothering you, right?”

“i’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me”

“i worry about you because i care for you, quanzhe”

those words seemed to resonate with him bc you watched as his face fell and his resolve snap in a second

“it’s just... i feel like i’m not good enough for you. you could literally have anyone in the entire school. i look at you and see how amazing you are. then i look at myself and i’m just... me. i’m not strong. i’m not assertive. i’m not very good at expressing my feelings even though i really really like you. i wish i was different so i could be enough for you. i don’t understand why you’re with me”

he looked completely heartbroken and wounded as he relayed this all to you

if you listen carefully, you could hear the sound of your heart shattering to a million pieces

“quanzhe... i didn’t realize that you had been holding this on your shoulders this entire time. i’m so sorry. i’m sorry for ever making you doubt that i don’t want to be with you or that i’ll leave you for someone better”

“but honestly, there isn’t anyone better bc you are the best. it doesn’t matter to me that you aren’t any of the things you mentioned. you care about me and i care about you, so that’s all that matters. i love every single amazing thing about you from your strengths to your flaws. you’re more than enough to me. you’re everything i need and want”

that was all it took for quanzhe to realize that you were quite possibly the best thing that has ever happened to him

the following day, quanzhe asked you to help give him a little make over

although you assured him that he didn’t need to change how he looked because he was already stunning as he is, he said that the change would be good for him and his self-esteem since he’s looked the same for the longest time and he wanted something new

after agreeing, you did your best to merely enhance the handsome looks he already had rather than change anything about him

all you did was tousle his usual rounded bob into a more casual yet classy hairstyle and added a few fashionable items such as new shoes and a new jacket to add to his attire 

which you may have stolen from the oaca boys’ closets but what they don’t know won’t kill them

before you walked through the school building to get to class, you were pleasantly surprised when quanzhe confidently slipped his hand into yours and pressed his lips to your forehead sweetly

the “nerd” of the school was shy no longer

despite the differences you two had, you worked well with each other

you taught quanzhe how to be more confident in himself, constantly reminding him of all of the good he has in him

on the other hand, he never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated 

to you, quanzhe was perfect

sorry i didn’t know how to end that

it’s almost 4am and i’ve spent hours writing this

lowkey delirious rn

i apologize for any mistakes i missed

also

pls give this little hamster lots of love and support

stan li quanzhe

[pandatypewriter]

Day6 Reaction: When their GF kisses them alot

OMG This was owed to the precious, patient nonnie that requested this basically half a year ago? Maybe? I’m not too sure! So much time has gone by, I’m so sorry! I know I can give yall a bunch of excuses but it all boils down was that I was unfortunately busy and was also being a lazy ass. But anyways further ado here is this cute Day6 reaction for the patient precious NONNIE! (A/N: went to their EveryDay6 in December and their vocals slayed me TT0TT)

Nonnie:

day6 reaction to gf kissing them a lot

Jae:

He would playfully tell you stop and that you’re being clingy, but in actuality the boy is loving the attention and affection. He would just love feeling your lips against his skin, whether it would be a full on kiss on the lips or just the slight brush of your lips against his cheek. They all sent his heart in a flurry. When you did stop your kissy action, you can bet that this sassmeister would would drop his jaw in confusion, not knowing you were messing with him since he kept teasing you. He’d try to coax you back into being so affectionate and kissy, but not be too obvious about it cause the man’s got his pride on the line too. More than likely though he’d cave and wrap you up in his giant body and pepper you with kisses.

Aye, I thought you didn’t like being all touchy feely *chuckles*

That was before you deprived me. I think that’s spousal abuse *kisses cheek*

One, we’re not married, Jae. And two, it's your fault for calling me clingy. *pinches his nose*

Ouch! See, more abuse. Gosh, I demand compensation or else Imma call my lawyers.

*rolls eyes* And compensation would that be?

*taps lips* this kind *cheeky grin*

*scoffs and smiles* You are ridiculous.

Ridiculously amazing *kisses your lips*

Young K:

LOVING IT. He would adore you being so kissy and affectionate cause one, he loves you, and two he loved you showering him with affection. He would just be lying on the couch writing some lyrics and you’d suddenly plop beside him and give him a kiss on a cheek before going on with your own business. A small, proud grin would spread on his face as he glance back you, debating whether to kiss you back or tease you….obviously he chose the latter. He’d ruffle your hair and joke about how he didn’t know he was dating a kissing monster. You’d just look up at him and flash him a grin before making a kissy face, telling him that it was too late to back out now.

Too late to back out if your scared, Brian~ *cooing*

Who’s Brian? Whoever the poor guy is, it looks like he’s stuck with such an adorable kissing monster *chuckles*

*Rolls eyes* yeah such an unfortunate guy *sarcasm* he gets stuck with these lips all to himself *makes kissy carp face*

*leans down to kiss you, but is immediately stopped by your hand*

Ah, these lips are reserved for Brian, remember? *giggles*

Well it just so happens that my names Brian as well. *Grins at your silliness*

Oh really?

Yep, now bring your adorable kissable lips over here *pecks your lips*

Sungjin:

Would be a grinning mess. He couldn’t help but smile everytime you’d nonchalantly kiss him on the lips every time the two of you met. It seemed very domestic like you two were a married couple, not that the two of you already didn’t act like one. He would always be in such a pleasant mood after you kiss him the maknaes would start to freak out. Earning them a glare from their Bob the Builder leader. With how elated he was from your affection and kisses, you can bet the other extreme occurs if he doesn’t get this TLC. He’d be a grumpy puppy, moping away and tuning his guitar for hours even if it was already tuned. The group would be perturbed by the now scary leader, but they knew exactly what to do to make their leader all bright and smiley again.

*dials phone* Hello? Y/N?

Hmm? Wonpilie? Hi! Whats up? Everything okay?

Uh not exactly….

Sungjin?

Sungjin.

Pass the phone to him *chuckles*

*passes the phone to Sungjin*

Sungjinnie~ Are you causing trouble for the group again?

Jagi! *mood automatically +100* How is your trip!?

*chuckles* Its good, its good. I heard that you’re missing me though.

I always miss you....I feel like I lost my daily dose of vitamins.

Wow, my kisses have been reduced to vitamins. *teases*

You know what I mean *scoffs, but smiles*

Well then let me give you your daily dose of vitamins *makes a kiss noise through the phone*

I guess that will do for now, but I expect the real thing when you get back. *chuckles*

Of course. *laughs* I have to go now. Tell the boys I miss them too and I’ll talk to you soon. Muah! *hangs up*

*Grins like a fools* Okay guys, let’s get practice started!!

*Jae whispers to Young K* Our Bob the Leader is whipped af.

Wonpil:

This precious little angel would be giggling and smiling at every brush of your lips, even if was as simple as a simple peck on the forehead. He would just immediately pull you into a hug and give you a kiss back. Just as you were a kissing addict he would be the same to you either more so or equal to you. You guys would be so cutesy and kissy that Jae would make gag noises every time he walked by the two of you. You would tease the giant elder by saying that he was just jealous, which would cause the elder to scoff asking why he would be jealous of Wonpil, which you would tease back saying that he was jealous of you. The elder would be immediately flustered and be like ‘You cray girl’ before rolling his eyes and going back to tuning his guitar. You and Wonpil would just giggle at how you managed to beat the sass meme king.

Nice! That’s my Jagi! *Grins and pecks your nose*

Of course! I’ve trained long and hard to beat Jae-hyung. *Chuckles*

That must have been so draining, Jagi

It’s okay cause I got all my energy from you *pecks him on the nose*

Then let me give you more energy *peppers your face with kisses*

*Young K, Sungjin, and Jae stare at you two deadpanned* I think I got a damn cavity…

Dowoon:

Awkward pup. Awkward pup times 1000. He would be so caught off guard by the sudden kisses no matter how long you two had been dating. You would find it so cute and endearing everytime jumped slightly at your pecks or even hold the spot where you kissed him. You remember one time he even dropped his drumstick because he was clutching his cheek in awe. Of course the hyung line would tease the lost little pup, but he paid them no mind. Were they getting kisses from the most beautiful girl in the world? No. So he won in the end. Though he might be as kissy as the other boys are he would definitely return your affection with cuddles. Everytime you kissed him on the cheek or lips he would pull you into a cuddle, letting out a low chuckle every time your hair tickled his nose. He would enjoy your warmth so much that the pup would even fall asleep.

DOWOON!

SHHHH! Sungjin-ah, Dowoon is sleeping *chuckles as you put your finger against your lips*

We have practice in 10 minutes and we need our drummer *chuckles and rolls his eyes*

Okay, okay, give me a sec...*Lightly shakes Dowoon* Dowoonie *shakes* Dowoonie *Shakes again*

Zzzzzzzz

Out like a rock like always *rolls eyes and heads towards the door* I’ll leave the alarm clock job to you, Y/N *chuckles*

Dowwwoooooonnnnn! *pokes his face* Gosh, am I dating a snorlax? *giggles* Ah! *Light bulb moment* *peppers his face with kisses*

Huh!? What!? *jolts awake*

Morning sleeping beauty *giggles*

Hi prince charming *grins*

I feel like something is a bit wrong with this fairytale *chuckles as you bopped his nose*

Hmmmm? Are we missing a witch cause I can go grab Sungjin hyu-

Oh God, Dowoonie, if you finish that sentence you might just be dead *chuckles*

Thanks for reading! Comments and Critiques are supper appreciated since I haven’t done these in a while XL

[jinjikook]

Best Of Me (M)

🎃 word count: 3k

🎃 genre: smut + fluff ; domestic au

🎃 pairing: reader/jeongguk

🎃 warning(s)/kink(s): pet play, kitten + master, punishment, degradation, praise, oral sex, fingering, come eating, choking, bruising, use of collar + leash, aftercare 

🎃 summary: you had just a few tasks to do at home and you forgot to complete them for your boyfriend/master; he seems to think a punishment is the most fitting way to treat the situation.

🎃 requested by: anon - “Kinktober... do you write pet play? If you do jungkook and his gf who’s a kitten (it doesn’t have to be ears and tail it could just be a collar/leash) with degradation/praise, some light bruising, maybe some breath play(?) with aftercare like cuddles and kisses falling asleep w/him as a protective big spoon”

🎃 music: ko ko bop + sweet lies - exo

🎃 masterlist + kinktober 2017

His keys sounded against the faux marble countertop, a sign that he’d returned from visiting his aunt who was in the hospital for some strange reason. Jeongguk had reassured you that she was alright and that it was mostly a precaution that they took her there, asking you to continue today as normal.

As normal as it was for the two of you.

Jeongguk clicked his tongue, making kissy noises to coax you out of wherever you were. At the noise, you poked your head up from where you lay on the couch, catching up on some reading you’d meant to do earlier.

“You’re home!” You chirped, Jeongguk’s smile stretching across his face at the sight of you on the other side of the sofa.

“There’s my girl,” Jeongguk approached, hands coming up to pet at your hair as you stayed put, not having been told to move otherwise. “Did you behave while I was gone?” You nodded fervently, hands gesturing to the house to show that nothing was an inch out of place, having been a fairly tame day as you stayed in the same general vicinity of the living room while your boyfriend was out.

“I’m so glad to hear that, I’d assume you did your chores as well since you seem so satisfied.”

At the words, you swore your entire body froze so visibly that Jeongguk picked up on your tense figure almost immediately.

“Love, what’s the matter? Did you not do what I asked?”

You fidgeted on the couch, book long forgotten as you fiddled with your fingers, finding them exceedingly more interesting as the awkward and frustratingly long silence stretched with every second you didn’t answer Jeongguk.

“Oh no, it looks like I have a bad kitten on my hands, huh?” If you had ears to match your title with Jeongguk, they’d definitely be drooped and flat against your scalp by now.

As much as you’d been happy to have been good, you turned out to be quite disobedient without even meaning to. You had seriously lost track of time as you read chapter to chapter, so indulged in the storyline that Jeongguk was home before you’d even considered the small list of chores Jeongguk had asked you to take care of.

They weren’t even hard or took very long; things as simple as moving the clean dishes from the dishwasher to the cupboards or balling up the clean socks on top of the washing machine that he’d even made easier for you to do by already putting them in pairs for you to just grab and go.

“You know what bad kittens get, right Y/N?”

With a dejected sigh and a drop of your head, you nodded and looked to the floor as you answered.

“Yes, Master. Bad kittens get punished.”

“That’s right, and you know I’d prefer to praise my little kitten but unfortunately, you’ve ruined that opportunity for us. I can’t say I’m not disappointed but what else can I expect when your head is always in the clouds instead of where it should be, right on your shoulders?”

You gulped audibly, trying to keep your excitement to a minimum. Even though this was a punishment, it still always managed to fill your veins with a thrumming fire, a frosty burn that sent shivers up and down your spine at the mere thought of what Jeongguk was going to do to you with his strong hands.

“Since you need to learn some focus, how about I give you something to practice on?” Jeongguk’s hands began to work on his belt and tugging his zipper down, the sound reaching your ears and making your head nearly snap up just to catch sight of him undoing his pants. It was a slight obsession you had over his hands, watching the long digits on each hand deftly pulling his jeans down and pulling himself out of them. Even though he was visiting his own mother’s sister, it didn’t seem to be deemed necessary to wear underwear to the occasion, according to your boyfriend.  

“C’mon kitten, have a taste,” He beckoned for you to get on the floor at his feet as he sat and settled on the slightly lumpy sofa. You scrambled down to get eye level with his length, watching with a tantalized gaze how it beaded precome and how it continued to swell in size as Jeongguk pumped it more and more. “But, don’t get distracted. No matter what, you stay focused on this.”

With a determined nod, you surged forward and began to lick kittenishly—no pun intended—along his cock, loving how it jumped with the contact of the wet muscle. One hand rose to hold him at the base, keeping him steady as you wrapped your lips around the head and sucked until the heady taste of his precome washed over your taste buds. You moaned around him, the vibrations nearly making Jeongguk forget what he’d planned and he had to regain his composure and tug at your hair to get you back on track.

His hands were playing with your locks—petting, pulling and stroking; seemingly innocent and the usual when you went down on him but he was punishing you, and it’d certainly have to be something more than just making you blow him because if you had to be entirely honest, that was something you loved to do; half the time he didn’t even have to ask you for such a thing.

While you were focused on getting him off, bobbing your head and running your tongue on the underside of his member, Jeongguk began to slide his hands further down, forcing him to bend forward some and push more of his cock into your mouth.

The intrusion was far from unwelcome but it was unexpected and you had to take a moment to adjust to the weight in the back of your mouth, just shy of your throat. In the meantime, Jeongguk had already started touching the skin of your neck, rubbing along where the collar he’d bought you laid.

It was velvety, soft to the touch but still tight and firm around your throat, so it wouldn’t slide off or anything. At the front was a small charm, a little silver heart with your named etched in. Something to claim you as his, as a kitten only for him.

Normally, you’d be able to suck Jeongguk off with ease, even taking him far into your throat and letting him fuck your mouth until you drooled and dribbled down his length. But this time was different, made harder by what Jeongguk had decided to punish you with.

His long fingers snuck under the band of your collar and already it was snapped tight against the column of your throat, taut enough that it made you aware of the tightness in your esophagus. But as he started to pull away from you, it only served to make the collar tighter, making air harder to take in especially with an intrusion already in the way.

You choked and gagged on Jeongguk, sputtering as you tried to pull off but Jeongguk wasn’t letting up.

Instead he spoke, in a dark and low tone that told you he was in the headspace of your Master and not your sweet, soft spoken boyfriend that’d returned initially.

“Where do you think you’re going, kitten? You have a task I’ve asked you to do. You already shirked on your responsibilities once today, and now you’re going to learn to stay focused.” To add more to his words, he tugged harder on the collar and effectively cut off your airflow as the same time as he thrusted into your hot, wet mouth. The sound was absolutely sinful and your hands found purchase on his defined thighs as you closed your eyes and focused on taking everything he was giving you in stride.

You had to obey, to be a good kitten for him.

“Atta girl, keep on going. Make Master come and maybe I’ll let you do the same, love.”

He gave your collar some slack, as a form of praise for not completely choking on his length and he pulled back a little, letting air greedily fill your lungs before he’d inevitably take it away again.

This game was back and forth, like ping pong for the sweet taste of oxygen. As he’d tighten his grip more, he’d only go further until you swore he was touching the complete bottom of your throat. It wasn’t possible, his size only being so big but it still felt like you were swallowing him whole, the lack of air only intensifying the sensation.

Your vision was becoming blurry, from the asphyxiation or the tears now beading along your eyes, it was anyone’s guess. It felt like it spanned for ages, having mere seconds to catch your breath before his hands and cock were back where they were previously, insistently pushing you along an edge that was both precarious and arousing.

“Gonna come, baby.” Jeongguk felt the need to step up the punishment, if only to fulfill the slight sadistic fire he felt brimming in his fingertips. His hands wrapped around your neck fully this time, no longer toying with the material of your collar and instead tightening there. It was so much more electrifying, a more gratuitous grip that caused butterflies to swarm in your brain.

At least, it felt like butterflies, though with the lights fluttering in your eye line, you thought they could easily be lightning bugs.

“Such a good slut, a good kitten for Master aren’t you?” Your boyfriend muttered, thumbs grazing your throat and feeling where he thought he’d be pulsing through. He vaguely wondered if when he came down your throat, would he be able to feel its warmth through your skin? As the thought pushed insistently in his mind, you whimpered and whined around his length, feeling him throb as your own consciousness waned.

His gripped didn’t falter, punishing pace still making headway into your mouth until he ultimately tightened, head jerking in your throat as your tongue milked him through his orgasm. You had no choice but to choke on his come, trying to breathe at the same time as he finally released you and his load at once.

Jeongguk pulled off, strings of saliva and creamy white come connecting to your sloppy, dirty mouth and he slumped back into the couch cushions, feeling satisfied both with the punishment and your performance.

Some instincts told you to clear your airways of his fluids and wipe your face clean from his remnants but the others knew better; you had to sit still and look pretty with your Master’s come for him to appreciate before being able to reclaim some of your dignity.

“Pretty kitty,” Jeongguk moaned appreciatively from where he sat, looking at you with what you could only name as love and lust intermingled into one. With two gorgeous fingers, he beckoned for you to come up to the couch with him and you wasted no time joining him.

He chuckled at your eagerness, helping you wipe away some of the mess on your face before kissing you long and drawn out, letting you lick around his mouth and make him taste himself on his tongue.

The good thing about being Jeongguk’s kitten meant you could lounge around in your underwear and collar, just as you were now. So this opened up to plenty of options for yourself—for ways for you to come, that is.

“Kitten, how do you wanna come? You took your punishment so well, I think you deserve a reward.” You nodded at his musings before grabbing his hand in your own, running your fingers over the veins and callouses he’d gained over years of labor. “My hands, is that what you want?”

You hummed appreciatively and started to guide his hand into your underwear but Jeongguk had drawn it back, snatching it from your grip and making you pout and whine like a petulant child.

“Now, now, no need to pout like that, love. Just want you to go get your leash, s’all.” He drawled, and you nearly bolted off his lap to head into your bedroom to retrieve the leather leash he’d gotten to attach to your collar at times when deemed necessary.

Within seconds, you were back on his lap and eager to proceed and finish where you’d left off. Jeongguk chuckled at the speed at which you’d moved, wasting no time in snapping it into place on the silver ring by your heart charm and tugging a bit, checking if it was working right.

He seemed satisfied with it and pulled you further up into his lap, seating you at the crook of his hip, before pushing his hand into your underwear and giving you a few tentative touches. The wetness there didn’t surprise him, knowing you’d loved taking the punishment as much as he’d loved dishing it out.

Jeongguk licked his lips and pressed his fingers further, shallowly thrusting up inside you to feel exactly just how wet you’d gotten for him.

“Mmm, my little kitten just loves to suck Master’s cock, hmm? Look at how wet you are, love. Just absolutely drenched, my fingers are slipping right into this hot, little cunt of yours,” And with that, he’d began to fuck his fingers into you at a languid pace—nothing too rushed or hurried, just enough for you to come comfortably.

He let you move on your own accord, grinding and rubbing his fingers where you needed them the most. Jeongguk just sat back and enjoyed the show, his own desperate kitten fucking herself on her Master’s finger for sweet, sweet relief.

Ecstasy washed over you as the pads of his fingers touched the tightening walls inside you, wetness dripping down his digits the more aroused you got. You didn’t dare hold back any of your moans, for fear of what Jeongguk would do to you if you did.

To his satisfaction, you bounced on his lap, shamelessly working yourself until you finally came, whimpering his name in a thousand different shades and octaves. Jeongguk smirked at your body curled tight around him, feeling you get infinitely tighter before the sensitivity got to be too much and you rose off his hand, seating next to him breathlessly.

Jeongguk brought his hand up to his face, inspecting the glistening digits and the state you’d left them in before pushing them against your lips and looking you dead in the eye.

“You’ve made a mess of my fingers, be a good slut and suck. Get them clean for me,” He pushed past the seam of your lips and you made sure to lick around every nook and cranny, not a crevice left untouched. Once it was to his liking, he yanked his hand out from your mouth and got up, not even bothering with redressing in the jeans that he left pooled by the sofa. He instead went to the bedroom to dress in his pajamas, ready to sleep the night away.

You felt a little vulnerable, having been left just shy of nude on the couch, underwear wet with past arousal and a slight feeling of shame burning in your belly. You pushed it aside and bent down to pick up Jeongguk’s abandoned clothes, taking them to the laundry hamper in the bathroom before doing what you were supposed to do earlier.

Once finished, you joined Jeongguk in the bedroom, stopping in front of the vanity on the dresser to inspect the damage from your punishment.

Underneath your collar was a bruised imprint, a metaphorical collar etched into your skin. Just under that was the shape of Jeongguk’s hands—the very thing you loved so much—matching the light bruise of your collar.

“Baby, c’mere.” Jeongguk called you over and you snuggled into the covers with him, trying to will away the gross feeling in your tummy.

“You did so well today, ‘m real proud of you.” He petted at your hair again, though this time there were no dirty advances or filthy intentions. Instead, it was all good natured; meant to calm you down as he cooed kind praises and eased the flip-flopping in your midsection. “My lovely little kitten, the best I could ever ask for.”

He smiled into your hair and gave you a kiss on the forehead before turning you over, spooning you and rubbing circles over your tummy—oddly enough, right where you felt the unease burrowed. He seemed to will it away with his soft touch, telling you all the things about his day and making your heartrate go down.

You interrupted, feeling bad for doing so but still feeling the incessant need to apologize.

“I’m sorry.”

He paused mid-sentence to stare at the back of your head.

“And what exactly are you sorry for?”

You gnawed on your lip, feeling both stupid and weak for admitting having done wrong.

“For not doing what you asked of me. I shouldn’t have let myself get so distracted. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

He began to laugh breathlessly behind you, unable to show you his expression in this position. It only made you want to shrink smaller—he was laughing at you, how shameful is that?

“Love, you don’t need to apologize for that. It’s not like you have to do that stuff, you know it’s okay for you to do your own things, right? This was just a little playtime, you’ve been only the best kitten, I swear.”

You burrowed deeper in Jeongguk’s embrace and he held you tighter, speaking sweet nothings and making you finally feel those lightning bugs inside your stomach instead of your brain.

The two of you drifted off to sleep, his dreams consisting of work and friends and being with you, while your own were of fluffy clouds and leather collars, Jeongguk pulling you along to play in the spooly puffs and making you giggle as he’d fall face first into mounds of the white pillows.

Jeongguk simply held you all night and with his warmth, you slept the entire night and half the morning away.

[muffindaddystyles]

Please write more of Dove and Harry ? You’d earlier written in ne where she gets lost and Harry can’t find her…. Please some more like that. I really like reading protective Harry for his kids especially daughters!

HARRY HATES A CERATIN PINK BICYCLE BUT DOVE THINKS OTHERWISE :D

Harry has never been this stingy towards things. You don’t hold a beef with stuff round you, right? You hold beefs with actual hell of people who're mighty pests in the name of human being.

But, this. Oh damn this. Four wheeler little pink bicycle, that have sparkling pom-poms around it’s handles, a cute yellow basket corked to it's front and rainbow coloured cups hanging from the back of it’s seat that cackles whenever the wheels roll.

It’s the most obnoxious transporting vehicle, Harry had seen in his whole life. He's kind of grousing in the corner that why out of trillion of toys auntie Gemma had to prove herself the best aunt in the whole world alive and chose this hideous gaggingly pink bicycle.

It just doesn’t makes sense to gift it to a three years old! And when that three years old’s a headstrong little thing, with wilfulness of her daddy and the marbles of kitten in replacement of those eyes.

“Daddy we’ll ‘ve fun, promise!” Her ‘r' vanishes into a whistle since she’s still wary onto speaking huge words, babbling her daddy’s ears off with random shite doesn’t count.

Sometimes Harry thinks; that his 50 years old mum's prisoned and captured into a dainty body of three years old -- and his time has come to get bossed around and scolded for his own good sake.

His mommy in the guise of his little dove.

“How’s tha’ missy!?” Harry squints down at her with his hands fisted on his hips. His fake scowl breaks into a fluttery smile when dove with her grubby pudgy hands pushed the bicycle around, her boot clad feet stomping against the hardwood floor, “Like this daddy!” Her chest heaved from getting tired of pushing it around in circles.

“Y'gonna put y’old man to labour?” When she sees her dad’s strictness resolving into contemplating the idea she squeals out giggles making Harry flinch and cover his ears, He’s sure he’ll end up deaf in his fifties.

Harry feels his chest warm and gooey with fond when she jumps on her tippy toes and wraps herself around Harry’s calves.

“Kay, teddy bear enough of butterin’ dada up.” Harry grunted through his nose ducking down to scoop her up in his embrace and she instantly loops her arms around his neck, her button rosy nose twitching with happiness as she patted his cheek with a toothy grin.

Harry shook his head at her brains, his eyes closed and lips thinned while he tries to announce it to her in the most dramatic way.

“Why’re you the way you’re dovie? He sighs and her response doesn’t baffles him any, “’Cos you.” She whispers into his ear as if it’s the most secretive thing in the world getting his cheek and earlobe wet with her drool.

“Yeah, cos' ‘m your inventor. My bad.”

.

That’s how they ended up here in the living room since Harry’s still hesitant and scared to let her ride the bicycle outside.

She makes sweet and loud kissy noises dangling her feet in a rhythm messing the already bombed up curls of Harry while he puts protection pads around her knees, he leaned more onto his shins adjusting the strap of her helmet and pinched her chin to make her look at him.

“Hello baby –..,” He opened his mouth to give her instructions when she cut him off with a cute whiny huff and the fold of her arms round her small body, “Daddy ‘m no baby.” Harry rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and bats his lashes.

“F'me you’re.” He tuts with a coo and took her wrist gently to help her slide down the sofa before she could possibly terrorise him more, sometimes Harry has this aching urge to laugh at her statements but it’s not right to his lil bean so he does it when he’s alone to not to hurt her feelings.

She refused any kind of guidance from him with just a single gesture of her palm (he doesn't know how she manages to behave like a 30 at her 3) and he ended up helping her wiggle her bum up the seat anyhow, “Hmm. Y'already know the deal dovlin'.” He knocks on her pink helmet which has tiny cows on it.

She bobbed her head and puckered her lips, Harry being her best telepathic communicator gets the sign and forwards his cheek for her to kiss it.

“Love y'daddy.” Her affection for her dad muffling against his stubble and in droopy voice he mimics her with bright teasing eyes, “wuveee you daddy.”

“Back to work!” Harry commanded moving towards the end of cycle and squeezed her neck tenderly before pushing her around and giggles happily when she squealed out in utter thrill.

“Weeeeeeoiiii!!” Harry joins her putting aside the fact he was very against it moments ago, but the little fun does no harm, right? He did think so.

It has always happened to him in this particular order whenever the things gets into their happy track a downfall is always written for them, just like the time when dove got sick and wouldn’t get any better taking her to hospital got crucial only for them to come back to their family being there for them her grandma and auntie Gems were their to get her recover but she got sick again.

“Alone!” She grumbles trying to move Harry’s hands away but he grips it tighter, “’M big!” She complains feet reaching for the paddles that took a swing.

“Hands on handles!” Not in a mood for her to throw a tantrum after such exhilarating moment Harry dismissed her off with a bit of frown, “Hands on handles! Hands —--,” He shouts anxiously heartbeat racing painfully against his ribs and he feels time slowing down as he watches dove losing her balance – but – puffs out in relief when she thumps against the sofa.

“Shit!” He cries out when the cycle tumbles along dove and falls on her, the poor baby didn’t even got time to process what's happening before the metal basket hits her bottom lip and her elbow hard.

Harry’s fear reeling infront of him, deafening him for a moment.

Immediately, He throws it away from over her half assed about where it lands and bunched her in his arms protectively. Cradling his sweet baby’s face in his palm and his eyes watered up at the bleeding lip and more abrasions on her elbow.

He sucks in a whimper when she tries even not to sniffle being a brave girl for her dad and goes to wipe his tears with her trembling lil hands, “It’s otay daddy.” Harry hiccups into her wrist smacking kisses upon kisses into her palm.

“’M sorry me lil dovlin'.” He sulked wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed her forehead.

It physically pains him to see his Dovie hurt, it makes him sad till long hours.

Call him sensitive but with Dove he’ll never able to hold his tears back, she pulls onto his heart strings the most agonisingly, she comes before anyone else and her safety too.

“No cry.” She pushed him away and pouted leaning to peck his lips and Harry giggles when she wipes the subtle blood stain she got on his mouth with a sheepish smile, “Lets fix your boo boos honey pot.” Harry gave her a weepy smile and pet her head taking them to his room.

He’s really surprised and well very proud that she was so brave for him, in times like these Harry realises if nobody got him his daughter’s gonna be there for him always.

“’M really reallyyyy proud of you sweet pea.” After putting Dove's favourite rapunzel bandages on her gashes Harry showers her in kisses that are loud and exaggerated but full of pride and love for her, making sure to do ‘mwah!’ at each one.

.

Harry made her chicken nuggies and let her drink orange juice (even though it gives her an achy throat) she’s such a good little briber.

She’s all snuggled in his bed, her face hidden in his chest out of shyness as Anne asks about her accident with a sad pouty smile.

“You gotta be careful next time okay sweetie?” Anne told her. Harry groans when her head perked up with gleam in her eyes, “There’s no next time!” He quips making his point clear.

“Gran’ma you wan’ see?” She blubbers excitedly crawling out from under the covers but carefully Harry catches her ankle and tugs her back towards him which causes the phone to fall from her hands onto the floor.

The clumsy cutie.

“Oh Grandma, you otay????” Her curly head pops from over the mattress and the room fills with laughter at her innocence and dumbness, she's just three, you prick.

“My silly little bear.” Harry’s laugh fades into giggles while he settles her bum on his chest and cuddles her tightly into his neck despite of her whiny protests and squiggles to let her free.

[the-fiction-witch]

The Deputy and The Inventor

TV SHOW: GODLESS COUPLE: WHITEY WINN  X READER (INVENTOR) RATING: SMUTTY AF

WHITEY’S POV:

I wondered though La Belle as many Ladies wondered the streets most of them not paying any attention to me till I suddenly heard a few little screams and a huge clatter and I saw y/n with another contraption trying to go down the streets so I ran to her making her stop “what the Hell is that!” I ask her

“I call it the go-atron” she giggles hopping off this device

“what does it do?” I ask her

“it works like a train, it’s kinda like a train and a bike bad a baby” she explains

“does it work?” i ask her

“Mostly” she giggles “it cuts out sometimes, and it tends to drop red hot coals on the ground behind it, and it tends to overheat” she explained

“Y/n take it home, work on it and test it up in the hills not though town” I tell her

“Oh...your starting to sound like bill” she sighs “what happened to fun whitey” she giggles

“I don’t know, all I know if you cant ride that thing though town” I tell her so she sighs sticking her tongue out at me turning it back on and turning it around going back to her house 

“that girl’s gonna bring the whole town down someday” Sheriff McNue sighs

“well she tries to help” I shrug 

“your just saying that cause your sweet on her” he laughs

“I am Not!” I answer 

“Ohh Please whitey, you and the inventors daughter have been sweet on each other since you where kids” he laughs

“I just like hanging around with her, even when we where kids, she was like the only person around my age around here” I sigh and just as I finish there was a huge bang 

“Best go see what’s she done” he sighs so I grab my jacket rushing off to the hill to Y/n’s little house bangs and clatters coming from the back of the house so I go around and see her hitting and working with a huge machine 

“Y/n are you alright?” I ask her

“Ohh fine whitey, nothing to worry about just the generator playing up again” she explains as it blew again sending bits of metal everywhere and a small fire to start 

“It doesn't look alright” I laugh

“It’s fine it’s meant to be on fire” she smiles “thats how it works” she laughs putting all the little bits of metal back covering the thing completely “so..what did you want?” she asks

“not a lot sheriff went me up is all” I tell her

“ohh come on in then I’ll make you a cup of tea” she smiles rushing inside so I slowly followed her the house full to the brim with little inventions she or her father had worked on at some point she problem is she’s rather forgetful she’ll start something put it down and then completely forget what it even was so her house is a bit dangerous when her father was around he used to make sure she kept up with things and made sure she didn’t kill anyone or herself with these things but...she’s all alone now, her mother passed away giving birth to her little brother and her father died down in the mines her brother, I haven’t seen him in years he ran off to find work in the fields on some ranch out west, I guess I’m really all she has now, I’ve known y/n almost as long as I could remember she was only a few months younger then me her father used to drop her with me when they went down into the mines leaving us to sit outside playing together till they came back “Ohh be careful the pipe is hot” she says 

“which one?” I ask her

“Uhh most of them, I forget which one” she says as she pours tea so I carefully sat on a chair at the table and she sat across from me bringing the tea I took a sip at it tasted awful like hot wet mud so I quickly put it down leaning back on the chair “Oh no whitey don’t-” she begins as the chair fell backwards making me land on the floor “the back has a gear so it reclines, its broken though” she says

“its fine” I sigh in pain getting up and sitting again making sure to lean on the table when suddenly something across the room starting beeping very very loudly “WHAT IS THAT!” I ask her

“WHAT!” she yells

“WHAT’S MAKING THE NOISE!” I yell

“I DON’T KNOW IT JUST DOES IT AT 3PM EVERYDAY FOR A MINUET OR SO”  she yells

“WHAT!” I ask her just as it stopped “you really need to clean this place out go knows what you’ve got in here” I tell her

“look who’s bloody talking I’ve been to yours whitey i’m pretty sure you have a animal living in there” she laughs

“yeah me” I laugh “but seriously y/n do you even know half the stuff you have in here?” I ask her

“Not really-” she begins as the lights began to flicker “Oh not again” she sighed grabbing a broom and going outside “go On shoo, shoo you little theifs” she yells trying to shoo some raccoons away from her generator so I got up wondering around the house looking at all her little things the only clear space, from the door to the kitchen and table and from the kitchen and table to her bed everywhere else covered floor to ceiling in little inventions so I followed the cables on the floor two leading under her bed, what’s she hiding under there? I followed the cable with my hand it giving me a tiny shock 

“Oww” I complain before trying to follow the cable again

“Whitey what are you doing?” she asked 

“Ohh nothing” I laugh getting up “I should be uhh getting back” I tell her 

“Oh yes go on back to work then” she giggles so I give her a tight cuddly hug before going to the door “whitey?...where’s my kissy?” she giggles

“alright...” i laugh “come here” I sigh and she runs over jumping into my arms so I gave her lips one tiny sweet kiss and she happy kissed back she tried to kiss more but I pulled away “you said one you got one you greedy girl, now get off I got to get back to work, the sheriffs already starting to ask questions I can’t be to long” I tell her 

“fine” she sighs letting go so I gave her one more kiss before going back off into town...what? fine I’ll come clean, I am in love with her, we started dating only a few months ago but we agreed to keep it a secret from the rest of the town these ladies are already nosy in our business anyway dont need them knowing whats going on with us, well I say going on the most we do is kiss we haven't even done anything yet funny how I’ve known her so long and have seen her naked thousands of times over our lives, when our parents send us down for a bath by the river and I had to...Keep watch, well I watched that bit was right, not much of anything else, but we still haven't done anything 

TIMESKIP: Y/N POV:

I stood cooking up some dinner until there was a knock at the door “who is it?” I ask going over and looking though the spy hole 

“It’s me Y/n, let me in” whitey says clearly in pain so I opened the door and he looked rather hurt scratched in places and even bleeding

“find the animal in your house?” I ask and he nods “did you try to get rid off it?” I ask and he nods “did you lose?” I ask and he nods “do you need a bed for the night?” I ask 

he nods “my house belongs to the Bob cat now” he sighed

“come in” I laugh and he happily came in so I shut and locked the door “have you had dinner? or did the bob cat get your dinner too?” I laugh

“the he got it” he sighs so I giggle serving the now done dinner and giving him half 

“here, you can stay tonight, I’ll take the cat trap I made over tomorrow morning” I laugh eating some dinner “I’ll fix you up after dinner” i tell him tapping his hand and he smiled at me taking me hand tightly once we had finished up dinner I bandaged his little ingures up and giving him some pain killers and went sitting on my bed in my little nightie reading my book whitey slipped off his shirts sitting beside me in the bed and cuddling me closely “why are you so cuddly?” I laugh

“I dont know, maybe its you being beautiful, maybe its the pain killers” he laughs

“it’s the pain killers whitey” I laugh

“Ummm I love you” he smiles

“no you don’t its just the pain killers whitey, there making you all giggly” I laugh “what’s in theres anyway?” I ask grabbing the bottle “Cocaine, Heroin, sativa, Eww water plants” I read “you’ll be fine it will wear off in a hour” I tell him 

“Your very sexy when your being smart” he giggles 

“Oh am I?” I laugh “you’ve not told me that before” I laugh

“snuggle” he giggles holding me closer to him 

“aww you get so cuddly when your on these things, I might keep you on them” I laugh

“Ummm snuggly y/n” he smirks pulling me closer and I felt it 

“WHOA! Whitey!” I yell moving away from him

“what? what did I do?”he asked

“your-” I begin looking down

“Ohh...can I blame that on the pain killers?” he asked

“No” I laugh

“fuck!” he sighs “well...I uh...I don’t know what do to now” he sighs

“relax whitey, i get it your a guy hormones and stuff I get it” I giggle

“Okay....Y/n can I ask you something?” he asks

“course whitey” I smile

“what are the hidden inventions under your bed?” he smirked

“there arnt any under my bed” I giggle 

“really?” he smirked ducking under my bed “Whoa! what the hell are these?” he smirked

“nothing” I giggle

“come on tell me” he laughs 

“there sex toys” I explain

“you made a sex toy? does it work?” he asks

“yes” I giggle 

“but why did you make two?” he asks

“well” I giggle putting my book down and sitting on his lap shuffling down him so I sat over his thighs getting one of them and smirking at him undoing his pants

“Y/n, I’m not sure about this” he says a little scared

“it’s okay whitey, if you dont want to-” I begin

“No no it’s not that, I want to believe me, its just I know what your inventions are like for....going wrong” he explains 

“Hey!” i complain “trust me I use these everyday, they work” I giggle

“everyday?” he smirks “you dirty girl” he smirks as I give him a little kiss pulling his pants down far enough for his cock to jump free hitting him in the stomach I sat shocked for a moment surprised by his size

“Umm whitey, so thats what you’ve been hiding all these years” I giggle UN plugging the decided and setting it up on him he looked both excited and scared “Relax it’s not like it’s going to cut your dick off” I laugh

“It might” he laughs as I plug it in again and turn it on “Uhhhh FUCK ME! I take it back! I take it back this is so good” he moans his head hitting the pillow his hands gripping my bed sheet tightly his eyes rolling back in pleasure until his hand moved to turn it off “fuck...it feels so good, I’m sorry I doubted you” he smirks

“its fine whitey, you can keep using it if you want too” I giggle

“I will, but...where’s your’s?” he smirks so I grab the other one and hand it to him laying in the other side of the bed “Okay your gonna have to explain this to me” he asks

“its easy whitey, first pull that bit up” I tell him and he does “Now...just keep going forward till i tell you stop” I giggle and he looks very scared slowly doing as Ive asked him “Uhhh Whitey!” I Moan 

“should I stop?” he asks

“No keep going” I giggle “okay stop” I giggle “then put that down and clip the clips on the sides to the bed sheet” I explain and he does that so I pull him closer giving him a sweet kiss as we kiss his hand moved to the little switch on mine turning it on “UHHH WHITEY!” I moan

“Holy shit! it actually fucks you...” he says in suprise

“what did you think it would do?” I laugh

“i dont know” he laughs turning it off again making me groan in annoyance “how about...I’m in charge of your little machine, and you get mine” he smirks so I giggle moving my hand to his and 

“three, two one” we both giggle both of us turning them on at the same time 

“UHHH Y/N!” he screams

“Uhhh Whitey!” I scream

“Ummm Baby baby please stop it...its too good!”he moans and I just giggle shaking my head 

“Your just not used to it” I giggle betwen my breaths “have you not been giving him much attention whitey” i giggle

“Not lately” he smirks “haven’t had too...just imagine you is normally enough” he smirks

“me doing what?” I giggle

“pretty much this actually Y/n” he maons so I giggle moving his hand still ridgit on my machine moving his hand alittle down “OHhh theres another speed” he smirks quickly turning it on high

“UHHHHHH WHTIEY! UHH WHITEY PLEASE PLEASE!” I scream

“Ummm Y/n I’m close baby” He moans

“ohh are you” I giggle turning his up to high too

“UHHHHH Y/N Y/N Y/N UHH Y/N MY DARLING UHHH!” I screams as he came so I quickly turned it off taking it off him letting him pump himself trying to elongate his climax it made me giggle seeing my lose control like that only one world could decribe how he looks right now...Orgasmic, “come on baby why wont you cum” he smirks kissing me 

“I’m close whitey” I groan 

“Lets just see how close you are?” he smirks turning off my toy and pushing his fingers inside me and that was it I came squirting a little on my bed roughly pulling him to kiss me as I orgasmed till I began to fall from my high and he removed his fingers “you where close” he smirked laying beside me both of us sweaty and exhausted “you need to like pattern them y/n, make a lot of money out of them” he smirks 

“Maybe” I giggle putting the toys away and laying my head on his chest cuddling him closely “but for now, we can keep it our little secret” I giggle “our little play things” I smirk

“no need, you are my little play thing my darling” he smirks holding me close to him “when did you make them anyway?” he laughs

“well I made mine a year ago, been using it ever since, I started work on yours when we started dating only finished it yesterday” I laugh

“you hadn't even tested it yet! and you just put it on me like you knew it would work! I could have lost my dick y/n” he yells

“did you?” I giggle

“No” he sighs

“see so stop complaining” I laugh “you liked it didn't you?” I giggle

“Of course I did, can’t wait to really have you doing that to me” he smirks

“one day whitey, if your good” I giggle giving him a kiss “Night night” I smile snuggling on his chest

“Night” he smiles giving my head a kiss 

WHITEY’S POV:

y/n had been asleep for a while now, she was so peaceful laid on me i was kinda half asleep awake enough to think but asleep enough to not move till I heard gun shots from down in town so I carefully moved y/n’s arm from around me and her head off my chest laying my pillow there instead and she happily snuggled there like nothing had changed so I quickly got my pants on properly as more gun shots fired only putting one shirt on I dont have time for two grabbing my guns giving y/n a little kiss before rushing out down into the town as many men rode around firing and trying to grab ladies “where the hell have you been whitey?” the sheriff asked as he tried to fire missing completely 

“Long story” I tell him trying to shoot too not doing to well they where too fast I moved to stand in the road trying to shoot but I ran out of bullets “Ohh fuck” I sigh but suddenly y/n stood beside me in her nightie with a huge gun she had clearly messed with it firing like five shells a second taking them down and the others run off “what the hell is that?” I ask her

“super gun, takes shells direly from this wired set, if your holding the trigger it keeps firing” she explains 

“I love you” I laugh pulling her by her waist to kiss me she happily kissed back

“i love you too” she giggles before the gun began firing again making us pull away after a few little ties she made it shot “sorry” she said to everyone who she just gave a heart attack too in town

[thiamfresh]

Long Live Lester

This is for the prompt - Theo is in his full wolf/coyote form idk and he's just been chilling in the woods for awhile and Liam gets worried and ends up finding him like hanging around one day on a run and gets him to shift back and explain his absence?

I’m making it into a multi-chapter because I wanted to write Theo as a wolf. So..chapter 1 is here.

(what the actual fuck is this)

It wasn't that Theo didn't like being a human but..being a homeless human was a lot more difficult than being a homeless wolf. He tried the homeless human thing. Really, only for about two weeks but that had been enough. He just..didn't have the money to be a homeless human, not that any homeless person does, but most homeless people could beg, Theo couldn't. Sure, a lot of that was his pride but the best places to loiter and ask for money were around the high school or the centre of town and he wasn't about to go to his old school and ask people for money, Nor was he going to sit in town and do the same, not when the McCall pack would be wandering around or deputies who'd seen him locked in a prison cell a few months prior.

Without money he couldn't get food, or wash his clothes, hell, he could barely wash himself beyond sneaking into the school after hours to use the showers in the gym and he'd seen enough in the school to know it wasn't the sort of place you wanted to be alone at night, even as a Chimera. His car was decent to sleep in, if he ignored the way he could full fit across the back seat and that his blanket was riddled with holes and his clothes and the car were starting to smell, and the police that knocked on the window every five fucking seconds telling him he couldn't sleep there.

So as a wolf, it was just...easier, he didn't need clothes, or blankets, or showers or a too small back seat to sleep in. He could scurry into hidden caves and sleep there his fur keeping him warm. If he needed to he could wash off in the lakes and rivers that dotted the preserve and well, despite raw rabbits not being very tasty it was fairly easy to catch them. It was easy to stay out of the sites of people, apart from the few times he'd padded over to people having a picnic and stolen the cooked food they had.

Sure, it wasn't a glamorous life but at least no one could see how far he'd fallen, and if Malia could live happily for years in the preserve he knew he could survive long enough to come up with a plan on what to do next. Or barring that find himself a nice cave to call home and live out his days chasing his tail and pretending things weren't going extremely bad for him. Not that he chased his tail...Much.

He had a routine, a life. Not a good one, but had one none the less. Sure, a fair bit of it was spent soaking up the sun on a boulder he'd found that was hidden enough to be out of sight from passers by but high enough to get nice warm beams of light hitting it for most of the day. He could lie and watch the closest path from there, a few lone dog walkers and joggers passing from time to time, enough to keep him entertained.

An old Lady brought him sausages. It was probably a bad idea, having someone know where he'd be every day but after her Corgi had managed to sniff him out and she'd spotted him while coming after it. She'd been friendly enough and he was fairly sure she thought he was just a large dog judging by the way she'd kept calling him a good boy and making kissy noises to try and attract him close enough to stroke. He'd left the first time, growling lowly and stalking off into the woods but the next day she'd been back, bag of sausages in hand and when her Corgi, Betsy, had started to bark at his boulder again she'd taken a sausage and tossed it up towards him. After a week of that he'd be lured enough to sneak down to her, if only so she'd give him more sausages.

So he'd sun bathe then when he heard the old lady and her corgi coming closer would march down to meet them on the path. He'd be greeted with a happy “hello Lester, are you hungry?” And gorge himself on the sausages and other little tit bits of meats she'd bring for him. He'd let her run her hand through his silky fur while he dug into them and follow her up the path until they were nearing the town. After that sometimes he'd go and watch the lacrosse practise, slinking through the bushes and watching hidden amongst the foliage. After that he'd go chase down a squirrel or rabbit for dinner and then return to his rock before returning to his cave and scurrying deep down into the depths to sleep.

It was simple, easy. He wasn't Theo, the evil chimera who everyone hated. He was Lester the wolf, friend to old lady Edith and Betsy the corgi, king of the sun rock and owner of a decent cave. He liked that when Edith saw him she would smile, that she'd call out for him if he'd gotten distracted as if she actually wanted to see him. He couldn't remember the last time someone looked happy to see Theo, but Lester, Lester was loved.

Theo knew he'd fallen further than he ever could have imagined but he couldn't really bring himself to care, hell, he'd even found himself wishing he could shift into something other than a wolf or a coyote, something boring enough that he could follow Edith home and live out the rest of her life on her couch that no doubt smelt like dust.

He could be her guard dog. It would give him something to do for a few years until she would undoubtedly kick the bucket and it was beacon hills, he was sure there would, at some point, be need for him to actual guard her from things other than the mail man.

Theo let out a huff, burrowing his snout into the soft fur between his front paws, chin scratching against the rock as he peered over the forest glowing golden with the afternoon sun. When had he gotten so pathetic that a life as someone's pet actually sounded like a good idea.

Although, thinking about it, it was what he was good at. He'd been a pet to the dread doctors most of his life, their little experiment. At least parading as someone's dog he'd get some affection.

He didn't miss much about being human, a real bed sure, but it wasn't like he'd have one if he changed back, he'd still be stuck in his truck, a homeless kid who'd never even graduated high school. Maybe if he lived with Edith when she did die he could take some of her stuff. A large diamond ring sat on her finger, he could have that, pawn it off and use it to get back some semblance of a life, it'd be his wage for keeping her safe. He snorted, a soft hiss through his nose that ruffled the fur and made it tickle.

You can't stay as a wolf forever Theo reminded himself. He needed to make a plan to figure something, anything, out, so he could go back to his life as a human. Theo span, scratching his back against the boulder tongue lolling out in a way that would be truly embarrassing if anyone saw, he looked up watching clouds pass slowly. He should think about something other than what Edith might bring him as a snack tomorrow, but he just..didn't see the point, couldn't bring himself to try. This was easier, he was happier, maybe, probably, or more likely he'd just stopped caring. He was doing the minimum needed to keep himself alive and he was...okay with that. Why bother trying anything? It was clear his plans weren't exactly winning ones.

Theo's ears perked up at the sound of soft footsteps, tiny paws scurrying along with it. He sniffed, the scent of ham and dust and Edith's perfume hitting his nose. Theo turned back over, hind legs kicking in the air for a moment before he managed it. He padded down his rock, hopping over boulders until the soft pads of his feet hit the forest floor. His claws sank into the ground for a moment, toes spreading out before he continued on. Reaching the path just as Edith hobbled around the corner, Betsy tumbling after her lips pulled back in a way that made the dog look like it was smiling. Theo sat down, back straight as he watched them approach, tail slapping hard against the forest floor.

“Afternoon Lester.” Edith hummed, hand already fishing in her pocket for the zip lock of food. Theo let out a bark of greeting. Edith let out an easy laugh scooping out a hand full of ham and tossing it to him. Theo caught it easily, sharp teeth snapping through it easily. “I got you a treat.” Theo's head bobbed back up. Eyes catching Edith's her eyes crinkled even before she smiled. Theo's head tilted as she pulled out a bone. “You want it?” Betsy barked. “No it's not for you sweetheart. You have one at home don't you.” Edith cooed. Holding the bone out for Theo.

Theo eyed it curiously. He should turn it down, despite being a 'wolf' he was still human and most humans wouldn't think it was normal to accept a bone that's no doubt been bleached and painted at some point and chew on it. But then, nothing about Theo's current situation was particularly normal and judging by Betsy's heart rate a bone was something to get excited about. Theo reached for it slowly, mouth opening revealing a row of razor sharp teeth that Edith didn't seem to be bothered by. He eyed her as he clamped his teeth around it, pulling slowly so she could let go.

“Who's a good boy?” Edith asked, Theo's tail gave another embarrassing wag. “Mind if we stay a while?” She sat down as she was talking, moving slow her hands white knuckled around a tree trunk as she sunk to the floor, joints cracking as she went. Theo was sure part of the reason he wasn't going completely insane was that Edith talked to him constantly when she would see him. Nattering away about beacon hills and her friends and what illness Ian was now suffering from. It wasn't exactly interesting but it was nice, friendly, left Theo feeling like he was actually socialising even if all he could do was let out the occasional snort or whine when she spoke. Betsy flopped in her lap, heaving deep breaths as Edith started talking. Theo lay down next to them, bone nestled between his paws as he chewed on it. It wasn't too bad, the scratch it made against his teeth seemed to tickle in his ears as it rattled. Edith's hand found his back, fingers carding into the thick fur.

“You'll never guess what Gina did Lester.” She begun. Theo let his tail wag once more to show he was listening and then Edith talked, fingers working gently in his fur while he chewed on his bone, stopping from time to time to accept Edith's fingers scratching behind his ear.

Theo let out a soft sigh. Maybe staying as Lester wasn't that insane, he could pass for a husky, could live out the rest of his days as a family pet, he knew Edith had a few grandchildren and one would probably take him after she died. He wouldn't have to fight, he could just...mosey through life, watch clouds and chew on bones. Theo's eyes shifted to Edith. It's not like anyone would miss him if he did follow Edith home one day. He'd been gone months and it wasn't like anyone had even noticed he was gone.  

Or maybe..Maybe he'd already gone insane. He wasn't sure but he couldn't bring himself to care. Crazy or not he was surviving, he didn't have anyone waiting for him to do something wrong. He was getting by without hurting anyone, maybe it would be better for everyone if Theo never came back.

[sfgfics]

Three Hearts Are Better Than One;

pairing: FinnxReaderxSami summary: You three have always been close, but that changes on Valentine’s Day.  warnings: swearing word count: 2,740 notes: So, first of all, this is the first wrestling fic I’ve written in years, and I’m really excited to get this out in the open. I was inspired by the picture that Finn posted of him and Seth on Valentine’s Day and this is what happened. Got a little out of hand, honestly. There may or may not be a sequel, I’m not sure, but there probably will. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

It’s been well known in the WWE universe about how close Sami Zayn, Finn Balor, and yourself are. Of course, Bayley was apart of your little foursome and your closest female friend, but it seemed like the friendship between you, Sami, and Finn went deeper. You all had a connection and you were all pretty much attached at the hip. So it’s been a sucky couple of months without Finn on the road with you and Sami but you all managed to make it work. Constant texts and Skyping and phone calls, it was just like old times, even though Finn was off recovering.

You guys had spent Valentine’s day together last year, but now it was just you and Sami. After a work out together, you both had splurged on chocolate and gotten three stuffed animals (a cat for yourself, a dog for him, and a giraffe for Finn that would be given to him the next time you were all home) and went up to your hotel room, where you both had plopped down on your bed and turned on Bob’s Burgers to have in the background. Both of you had your backs against the headboard, but you were slightly turned so you can rest your legs across Sami’s and you kept your new stuffed animal close to your chest while you casually played your new mobile game obsession.

Sami’s hand was resting against your legs, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin. It was comfortable, but you were missing Finn in the equation. He’d either be snuggled in between the both of you or he’d be laying down on the bed, resting his head on your legs or stomach. And while being here with Sami was nice, you knew that you both missed Finn as well.

You let out a soft sigh, and glance up at him, a grin spreading across your face at the sight. Sami was fully invested in the episode that was playing, even though you both have seen it hundreds of times already. You just find it adorable and you quickly switch your phone to camera mode. You sneakily snapped a candid, and he didn’t even notice. It makes you giggle and he’s turning his head to look at you.

“What’s so funny?” He’s asking and you shake your head.

“Nothing important.”

“Oh really?” And now he’s grinning and he’s leaning over, trying to sneak a peek at your phone. You let out a noise of protest and then sink down into the bed, holding your phone close to your chest. “Nothing important but you won’t let me see it? What are you hiding?” He knows how to get to you, and he’s moving to hover over you, tickling your sides to try and get your phone.

“Hey! No fair!” You cry out, squirming underneath him as giggles leave your lips. It only takes you a couple of seconds to give up your phone, and he’s letting out a triumphant noise, holding the phone up in his hands. But it’s at that very moment when your phone decided to chime that Finn had texted you. Just a moment later, Sami’s phone went off, and you figured Finn had just texted the both of you. He raises an eyebrow and you nod, giving him the okay to get into your phone. He and Finn both know your password and there’s pretty much no secrets between all three of you.

He swipes open your phone, looking at the text. “He’s wondering if we’ve checked Twitter today.” You shake your head, and then grab your phone, closing the messenger app and heading to Twitter. You quickly look for Finn’s twitter and then let out a laugh at what you saw. A picture of him and Seth.

“I think we’ve been replaced,” you say, turning the phone so Sami can see. He’s laughing with you and then he’s moving to sit up. You join him, legs crossed and you shake your head, making your way back to messenger.

{ to Finny Boo Bear: Both Sami and I have just checked it now lol }

“Well, now we just need something in retaliation. Just to fuck with him,” Sami says, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh, I do love the way your mind works.” Your lips pull into your own mischievous smile and you’re pulling up your camera once more. You pull him to your side and you plant your lips against his cheek, one eyebrow raised as you look at the camera. Sami’s laughing, and you snap one picture, before his grin softens and you snap a couple more pictures. And then, because Sami’s Sami, he’s turning your head so he can kiss your cheek and you’re wrinkling your nose in amusement, snapping more pics.

You both take the time to find one that you both like, settling on one of him kissing your cheek and you head to Twitter to post it.

@FinnBalor Whoops, I stole your Valentine from last year. @iLikeSamiZayn

And then you’re sending Finn a text with winky kissy face. Sami’s pulling you into his side as you both relax back against the headboard.

“He’s going to kill us,” he’s muttering with a chuckle and you respond with a soft laugh of your own.

“Oh, of course. But at least we had fun, right?”

“Always.” And he’s bending to place a kiss to the top of your hair and you let out a content sigh, snuggling into his side. It’s so easy to be like this with him, and with Finn, too. And you love it, honestly. How you can be affectionate with them and have them be affectionate back with no worries that it’d turn into something more or that it’d ruin everything you guys had. Although it’s not like you didn’t want there to be something more between one of them… or both of them, if you’re being completely honest with yourself.

You know it’d never happen, you’re all just comfortable being close friends, but sometimes when you’re like this with Sami, or cuddling with Finn, or all snuggled together, you can’t help but to want more.

Your phone chimes with a Twitter notification and you’re heading there, only to see that Finn had posted a pouty face in return to your tweet. ‘Breaking my heart, you two are. This means war,’ was the caption.

“Good lord, the fans are going nuts right now,” you mutter, scrolling through all the notifications and showing some of the best ones to Sami. You guys spend a couple of minutes scrolling through that, before you even think about replying to Finn.

@FinnBalor @iLikeSamiZayn Bring it on, Finny Boo Boo, I’m ready for you.

Sami’s watching the exchange with his chin on top of your head, still holding you close. “The one downside to this is how many questions we’re going to get about if we’re dating,” he points out, and you let out a soft laugh.

“True, but would that be so bad?” It takes you a moment to put together that you did just say that but it’s Sami who pulls away to look down at you.

“What, the questions? Or us dating?”

“Um…”

Well, now you’re kind of fucked. You really don’t know what to say to that. Or what you really want. You three are all pretty quiet about the dating aspect of your lives and ever since you’ve met the two of them, you all three dating hasn’t really seemed to happen. You’ve been on a couple of dates here and there, just like Finn and Sami had with other people. But you never really had any serious relationships. In your case, you felt like you didn’t need to. Finn and Sami were great substitutes for a boyfriend, just without all the romantic and sexual aspects to it.

“I mean, we can deal with all the questions. We get it all the time, regardless,” you point out.

“Yeah, but we’ve never really posted a picture like that.”

“You got me there.” You’re moving away from his embrace, moving to sit at the end of the bed. You can’t really think when his arms are around you. “But hey, we’ve always been platonic friends. And friends kiss each other’s cheeks all the time. It’s not like we’ve ever had more than strictly platonic feelings for each other…” you pause, glancing up at him. “Right?” The last word is soft, and your heart is beating fast. Because fuck, of course your big mouth and actions would cause problems for everyone. Can nothing ever go right?

It’s Sami’s turn to go silent and he’s not looking at you and this is where you feel a little worried. “Sami?”

He’s rubbing the back of his neck now and letting out a breath. “Can’t really agree with you about that.” And you’re blinking at that.

“What?”

“Can’t really say that I don’t have just platonic feelings for you anymore. Or Finn, for that matter.”

“Well shit.”

That hangs in the air for awhile, the only sound in the background is the voices coming from the television. And then you realize how awkward Sami looks and he was being honest with you, so you have to be honest with him.

“My feelings for the both of you haven’t really been platonic in a long time, either, Sami.”

He's looking at you in shock and now you're both just awkwardly staring at each other. It's never been this way before and you're a little worried. “Well what are we going to do about it?” You ask softly.

Sami opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything your phone is ringing. You scramble for it and you see Finn’s name on the screen for FaceTime. You glance up at Sami before answering it.

“Hey, Finn,” you greet, fixing a smile on your face even though you’re sure it’s not the best. And of course, the grin that was plastered on his face fades as soon as he looks at you.

“Hey, love. What’s going on? Where’s Sami?” He’s concerned, you can tell, and you hesitate before moving over to sit next to Sami so you both can see Finn and he can see you both.

“I’m right here,” Sami says, with a fake grin of his own and a wave.

“What’s wrong?” Finn asks, and you glance up at Sami before sighing.

“We just kind of realized some things, that’s all. And we’re not really sure how to go about it,” you inform him. Sami makes a sound of agreement, and you bite your bottom lip. You wish Finn was here and in person, because it’d make things so much easier, but you weren’t lucky enough for that. He was still getting his strength back up, training, working his ass off to join you and Sami back on the road again. It was soon, you knew, but it wasn’t soon enough.

“What is it?” He’s glancing between the two of you and you can tell he’s confused and worried and you feel so bad, honestly.

“Well, we started off with the fact that we’re going to get a bunch of questions of if we’re dating, her and I, because of that photo. But then we kind of got into the fact that we don’t have platonic feelings for the both of us anymore. Or for you, for that matter. So we’ve managed to get our way into a giant cluster fuck,” Sami says.

Finn lets out a breath, almost sounding like he’s been punched in the chest, and you glance away, staring down at the hand in your lap. “It just kind of happened. Like, if I’m being honest, the fact that I’ve wanted more than friendship between the both of you for ages just kind of hit me out of nowhere. I don’t remember when it happened but it did. And now Sami and I are kind of stuck and we’re sorry that we got you into this mess with us, but…”

Well, you’re not sure why you’re bringing Finn into this, you and Sami both like each other, but it’s completely up to Finn on how he feels and you wouldn’t be lying if you hoped he had some feelings for the both of you, too. You’ve mentioned poly relationships before, and of course, Sami had asked a lot of questions about it, always wanting to know more. Finn had been pretty silent through the whole exchange that day, but he hadn’t looked turned off by it, just thoughtful. And now you were hoping he was thinking about that.

“No, no, I’m just… well, give me a second to take this all in…” Finn’s face is unreadable and you’re staring at him, anxiousness written all over your face. Sami’s reaching over to take your hand and you’re looking up at him for a moment, and he has much of the same look on his face as well.

You’re all silent for quite some time and it’s only broken when Finn begins to laugh. Your eyebrows are raising up in surprise and then furrowing together when he begins to shake his head.

“You know, when you brought up that poly relationship one time, I ended up picturing all three of us in one. I mean, we all act like we’re together anyway, right?”

Sami’s squeezing your hand and your heart is beating fast. “Yeah, we kind of do. Honestly, when you brought it up, I was thinking about all of us, too. That’s why I was asking all those questions. You seemed to know so much, and I thought you brought it up because you wanted to see how we’d react,” Sami says.

Here’s where you’re laughing and you’re looking down at your hand in Sami’s. “I kind of did, really. But I didn’t want to… fuck things up, so I didn’t go any further.”

“That’s what I was worried about, too. Because I love the both of you, and I don’t want to lose either one of you.” Finn runs his fingers through his hair, and you’re nodding in agreement.

“Well, we’re not gonna lose each other. I love you,” Sami pauses, kissing your forehead, “and I love you, Finn. We’re not gonna fuck this up.”

“So… we’re doing this?” You ask, first looking at Finn, then up at Sami.

Their answers are almost instantaneous.

“Fuck yeah we are,” comes out of Sami’s mouth.

“I don’t want anything else,” is coming from Finn’s.

“Okay… we’re doing this,” you whisper and then you’re letting out a soft laugh. “This wasn’t how I expected Valentine’s Day to go this year. Went from no romantic Valentine’s to two. How lucky am I?”

“Nah, we’re the lucky ones.” And then Sami’s cupping your cheek in your hand, turning your head so he can look you in the eyes. “And first things first, I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.” And then he’s bending so he can kiss you, lips soft against yours. You respond instantly, your other hand going up to tangle in his hair, the other still holding up the phone so Finn can see.

“Fuck, I wish I was there with you two. Kissing the both of you…” You’re pulling back, biting your lip, and then giggling.

“We’re leaving tonight. We’ll be back home tomorrow morning. And then we can kiss as much as we want,” you point out.

“Tomorrow can’t come soon enough,” Finn comments, and then Sami’s pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I agree. But hey, does this mean I get you both as Valentine’s now?” Sami’s asking, his voice hopeful, and you and Finn laugh.

“I guess we don’t have to go to war, now, do we, love?”

“Nah. Truce?”

Finn’s heaving a huge sigh, but then he winks at you. “As long as I get to kiss him first. Only fair, right?”

“Very fair. He’s a very good kisser, just so you know,” you say, reaching up to tug at Sami’s ear. He’s blushing and you’re cooing at him.

“Shut up,” he’s muttering, and you’re leaning up to kiss him.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” Finn pipes up and you’re both turning to look at him. “We won’t forget our anniversary, now, right?”

All three of you end up laughing, and you know, deep down in your heart, that you’re all going to be together for a long time.

[already-taekken]

Untitled ch3

Hope everyone is having a great day! I so happy so many people have actually read my fic so far! I really appreciate it XD

Chapter 3

Taekwoon was wearing loose-fitting, navy sweatpants and a black hoodie. Apparently the hoodie had gotten a bit warm on him because the sight that greeted Jaehwan as he walked into his hyung's room was a strip of pale, flat stomach and a belly button. Taekwoon was in the middle of removing his hoodie and the process had revealed some skin. Jaehwan froze with his back against the door. His plan completely forgotten, he suddenly felt the need to take a gulp of the water he'd brought for his hyung. Finally, the torture ended when he tossed the garment to the side and adjusted his t-shirt to fully cover his midsection.

"Jaehwan-ah? What's wrong?" Taekwoon's soft voice asked. He had calmed down since they left the kitchen and had the cutest look of confusion on his face and... Oh no! Jaehwan could feel himself smiling like an idiot and there was no way he'd be able to tell his hyung why!

"I-it's just been so long since I’ve seen you! Ah! Here's your water." Jaehwan replied as he walked over to his now seated hyung. He handed Taekwoon the glass and took a few steps back. As he stared as his hyung take a small sip, his mind, once again, traveled to their time spent together in Cambodia. Jaehwan didn't have to keep up his cutie main vocal image. Didn't have to be anything other than himself and it was a relief. He loved acting cute but sometimes he just wanted to be Lee Jaehwan and Taekwoon seemed to understand this more than anyone.

With that thought in mind, it shouldn't have shocked him as much as it did that he liked Taekwoon a bit more than as a band mate. But it did. The last evening they'd spent in Cambodia, Jaehwan had come to realize he could be happy spending the rest of his life like that. Walking around with Taekwoon at his side, trying new foods and visiting new places, laughing together and singing in harmony as they travel, bumping into each other, arms wrapped around shoulders, though holding hands would be nice too. His thoughts were cut short as his hyung began to speak.

"I'm sorry, Jaehwan-ah. I'm so sorry. I know you probably don't even want to be near me but, I just need you to listen ok?" Taekwoon practically begged. He peered up at Jaehwan to make sure he was listening and Jaehwan is sure Taekwoon had no idea he'd shocked his dongsaeng into silence. With no response coming from Jaehwan, Taekwoon continued.

"I'm supposed to be the hyung. Set an example for you guys. I need to be strong for you all when you feel too tired to move....I'm not supposed to just...dump extra work on you because I don't take care of myself. I need you guys to know that I'm sorry. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you, Jaehwan-ah. Not just singing your parts but handling mine as well." Taekwoon sounded ashamed of himself. When he took a break in his speech, Jaehwan used that moment to correct his hyung on a few things.

"What are you even saying?! Do you really think I don't want to stand next you? Or sing with you? True, we had to take a few extra parts but we're a team! You'd do the same for us, right? Do you know how many times we've felt rundown but looking at you made us feel like we could try again? What happened to you could happen to any of us. We need you to be healthy. That's what matters! We're not VIXX without you and if that means you need rest so we can be whole again, then so be it! You're so important to us.... to me. I need you with me...so much it hurts...." Jaehwan sagged after his last statement trailed off. He hadn't meant to say it but, he wasn't going to take it back. Not like he was known for being able to hide his feelings very well, anyway. He felt his eyes, which were staring blankly at his own feet, begin to fill with tears but he wasn't sure why.

It could've been the eminent fear he would be rejected, or that a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest with this revelation to Taekwoon but, at this point it didn't matter. His hands balled into fists as he stood there, waiting for his hyung to laugh in his face. Instead of hearing mockery, he felt a large hand cup the back of his neck, long fingers playing with hairs at his nape and a thumb that brushed lazily across his jaw. His hyung said nothing, and Jaehwan couldn't bring himself to break the silence.

After what seemed like forever, but was probably no more than 10 seconds, Jaehwan dared to lift his eyes and take a look at Taekwoon. What he saw took his breath away. Not only had Taekwoon been staring at him the entire time, he had the most gentle and adoring smile Jaehwan had ever seen. He felt his pulse speed up when their eyes met. He'd laughed at the fan accounts he'd read, describing Taekwoon's gaze as dangerous. After having lived together for more than 5 years, Jaehwan considered himself impervious to Taekwoon's eyes..... but boy was he wrong.

He inhaled to steady his wild heartbeat and gave a shy smile in return. That was when everything changed. Taekwoon took two small steps that brought him directly in Jaehwan's personal space, his other hand joined in the mix, cradling the opposite side of his dongsaeng's face. Taekwoon's eyes traveled down, starting from the younger's forehead. Jaehwan followed Taekwoon's gaze as it took in all of his features, from his eyebrows to his eyes, down the bridge of his nose and landing on his lips. There was an almost imperceptible bob of Taekwoon's adams apple as he swallowed, and Jaehwan saw that too.

He waited, pleading in his mind for his hyung to make a move but nothing happened. Taekwoon's eyes were still locked on Jaehwan's lips but he remained motionless, still cupping Jaehwan's face. His impatience getting the best of him, Jaehwan leaned in and softly pressed his lips to his hyung's. That was, apparently, what Taekwoon needed because he immediately took charge of the kiss. Tilting his head, Taekwoon slid his left hand down from Jaehwan's face and let it glide down his neck, over his shoulder and rest on the small of his back, simultaneously pulling Jaehwan closer until their bodies were pressed together from hip to lips.

A slightly embarrassing noise, one Jaehwan would never admit he was capable of producing, escaped him when Taekwoon bit Jaehwan's lower lip before gently sucking the sting away. Blushing more by the second, Jaehwan's hands began to creep up Taekwoon's chest. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he just needed to touch Taekwoon, to feel that his hyung was really there and kissing the breath from his lungs.

As the room started to heat, the moment was broken when Hongbin's voice could clearly be heard from the kitchen. When he roared "Ya! What have you done to Leo's food?!" Jaehwan felt like he'd been slapped. His hands, which had migrated to Taekwoon's shoulders in an attempt to hold on for dear life, pushed against his hyung, now in an attempt to create some distance between them. He didn't want the others to find out about him and Taekwoon. They'd never let him live it down in peace.

Jaehwan watched as Taekwoon stumbled back a few steps, that adorable look of confusion firmly back in place. Only this time, his lips were a beautiful shade of red and slightly puffy. Before he jumped on his hyung again, he figured he should try to explain why he'd put an abrupt end to their long-awaited kiss. At least, Jaehwan had been waiting for what felt like several lifetimes to kiss Taekwoon.

This was a dream come true. He'd finally been able to properly get his feelings across and then he went and ruined it only moments later. Simply to avoid the younger members' ribbing. It was just, he hated when the maknaes constantly teased him.

Usually he could brush off their comments but he didn't think he'd be able to handle it if they poked fun at his new relationship with Taekwoon. More than likely, that would include calling Jaehwan out during their interviews whenever he manages to slide up next to his hyung, purposely keeping them apart, making kissy noises at them in the back of the van and, worst of all, touching Taekwoon excessively. Everyone knew Jaehwan had a temper but, they hadn't seen anything when it came to sabotaging his time with Taekwoon. He really didn't want to have to strangle Kongs and Hyuk in their sleep.

Jaehwan wasn't the best with words, even when he was calm, so he knew he had little chance of coherency in this situation, but he also knew he had to try. Maybe if he made it sound appealing enough, his hyung would agree without too much resistance.

"Um, Hyung! I was thinking, maybe we could, uh, keep this between us....? I mean, there's no reason to tell anyone for awhile. Let's just enjoy the secrecy! Us being idols, don't you think it's part of our job to experience a secret love affair?!" He finished his rambling with a wobbly smile, hoping his hyung would go for it.

An emotion Jaehwan couldn't identify passed over Taekwoon's face. It looked a bit like understanding which is why it wasn't a surprise when his hyung slowly began to nod his head in agreement. Jaehwan grabbed his hand and led them to sit side by side on the bed. He laid his head on his hyung's shoulder and when Taekwoon started to hum a new song he'd been composing, Jaehwan closed his eyes in bliss. Things had turned out much better than he'd expected.

Both had been so wrapped up in their thoughts and each other that neither of them noticed when the door slowly opened. Their leader poked his head in to let them know they'd have to order takeout for dinner. When he saw their positions, a small smile bloomed on his face. He figured he shouldn't disturb them and closed the door as silently as he'd opened it. As he made his way back to the kitchen to grab all the takeout menus he'd collected over the years, he heard Wonsik, Hongbin and Hyuk in the living room, laughing about the mess he'd made of Taekwoon's pasta dish.

The smile fell from his face. It wasnt because of what they were saying. He was used to that and gave just as much sass as he could take. No, it was because of an unsettling realization. He knew he'd have to do something soon. There was no way he could continue on ignoring his feelings when his dongsaeng had been able to find happiness. He could definitely learn a thing or two from Jaehwan.