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lovee-infected · 4 years ago

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Hello!! Can I request headcanons about gn mc who got sick (with fever or something to the point they can't go to school) and the twst boys decided to visit and take care of them? I've always enjoyed your headcanon! Thank you!!

Riddle Rosehearts

He's got much of a weak immune system himself so he's usually prepared for unexpected situations like this. He knows what to do.

Just lay back against your pillow, do exactly as he says and you'll return to full health in no time

He'd probably be really angry if he finds you out of bed without his permission or spending too much time over your phone and reading books; he insists on you resting and much as possible.

He agrees on being possibly a -bit- over protective but he doesn't mind. If this will do any good at your healing process then he's more than okay with it.

Whenever you tell him to stop over stressing himself because of you he just goes: " Me ? Over stressing? Of course not! If you wish me to be calmer than I already am, then stop playing around and rest well till you get better."

He truly does work his hardest for you while you need him, from takings notes of what has been teached during your absence to spending at least 2 hours a day with you, making sure that nothing goes wrong.

As the strict leader of Heartslabyul, he usually spends most of the day watching over students and checking whether they are doing good at school and exams or not, but for now he cuts back on these responsibilities to take care of you. He may not shout that out loudly, but he always puts you before any other responsibilities he might have. Perhaps he enjoys spending time with you just as much as he enjoys having fresh strawberry tarts.

Trey Clover

You were still trying to catch up with the classes but Trey just knew that it'd be too much. It was him who made you forget about the school and instead, rest in your room.

You are a bit stressed out about not being able to take care of your chores, but thankfully he is there for you. He isn't known as heartslabyul's mother for no reason, make sure that he knows how to caress and pamper you better than anyone else.

Aside checking on you every day and bringing you additional medicines and food, he makes sure to collect notes of everything that is teached during your apsence so you won't have problems catching up with the studies afterwards . No need to mention that his cooking on the other hand is stunning, 5 star chef Trey at your service.

He understands that it might be a bit boring laying down in bed without anyone to talk to, so he often comes to you as you need someone to talk to and also brings you your favorite books to read so you won't get any bored when he can't be there.

He never says a word to make you feel any bad or frustrating about being nursed by him, instead he knows how to motivate you to get better even sooner: " Nursing you is absolutely adorable, but I don't want my dear (y/n) stuck in a bed all day while I'm willing to show you way more exciting things than a just couple of books,"

Cater Diamond

Clones, clones and clones :Time to get to work! The best part with it is that he can always make sure to have at least one of his clones watching over you even if he's busy with school or stuff, not that he lets you know what he's doing though.

You wonder why Cater's staying with you 24/7, as a third year student, isn't he supposed to be like, really busy with studying? Cater assures you that there's nothing to worry about, and it seriously isn't. He can always catch up with everything even his actual self stays all night at yours.

While his use of clones might seem a bit tricky, he still makes sure to provide you with anything you as long as you're sick need and even more: Bringing you roses and chibi, stuffed animals as gifts, along with sweet chill chats whenever you're awake, sending you soft love quotes with a bunches of colorful hearts and kisses via text even as he's right beside you, He enjoys how you'll need to look up your messages to see what he texts you allthough he's sitting just a few meters away from you. Aw, the way you blush whenever youlok at your phone, how cute~

Ace Trappola

What's the purpose of going to school when he does not understand a single word of it while his mind is all stuck on you? What are doing now? Are you fine? Does your chest Still hurt? Has your pain gotten any worse? Is there someone with you right now? What if you need help??

He's about to lose his mind, he tries asking someone free to check on you but there doesn't seem to be such a person available at the moment. 'That's it , I'll go on my own'

With the help of the year gang ( Jack, Deuce and Epel) he fakes breaking his leg during a PE session and yeets off the school for an entire week. YES!

He is moving to your place for a couple of days and Deuce will cover up for him whenever someone asks where Ace is.

Ace just knows that you're sick, he isn't sure of the exact name or type of your illness. On his way to yours, he fills a bag with anything he finds at Heartslabyul's cabinets with any title as -medicine- for you. He'll later look for the right one you need between them.

When you get to look into what he has brought, you aren't sure if he's kidding or not and when you ask, Ace realizes that he's really goofed up: what he actually brought was nothing else than animal medicines, and he he literally brought you each and every of them existing in Heartslabyul; how come didn't he see the pets/only label-??

You're lucky that you already have your medicines prepared, so you tell him not to worry about it. He feels so damn embarrassed wanting to melt into earth right now, but you have to admit he really lifted up your mood. You're happy to have your cute, Crabby-haired idiot besides you while you're sick, and he tries his best to help you with cooking and making sure of you taking your right medicines on time to make up for the mess he made on his first day:" Ehehe...at least...you can use some of them when Grim gets sick, right ?"

Deuce Spade

He really wants to stay there taking care of you but... he has to go to school as well. He has to get much higher grades this semester if he doesn't want to have to spend another year as a first year.

He can't skip any of classes, but promises to spend the rest of his day after school.

He rushes with his school uniform still on to your place, not wanting to be even a second late . He has to carry some casual clothes along with his books since he wants to stay over nights if you need him.

Due to get getting in trouble a lot back at the time, he's rather educated in medical field so he knows much and less of what he'll need to do as you're sick?

His cooking isn't something he can rely on so he goes to Trey, telling that he needs some soup for Ace since he seems to be looking a bit sick lately?

He prepares your food, brings you warm towels, repeatedly checks your body temperature and when you're finally asleep, gets to his own studies. He ends up Having fewer than 3 hours of night sleep multiplr times and once, he didn't get any sleep at all.

He tries his hardest to look his best in front of you so you won't notice how terrible he actually is; when you question the bags under his eyes, he claims them to be left from the mascara which a couple of guys put on him a few days ago for fun and consistently laughs. Damn, this boy doesn't even know how to lie huh? He is literally dying, but he won't tell you a word. He can handle worse...

When you finally return to full health you realize how terrible he's been doing lately and you take rule of his nurse this time. Making sure that your cinnamon roll would finally get some sleep.

Leona Kingscholar

"My room, now". You look way too terrible to be able to make it to the classes therefore he has to make sure that you won't do anything stupid while you need to be taking some rest.

Bringing you to his own room wasn't his main intention since he just wanted to keep an eye on you but couldn't afford to visit you everyday if you didn't live any close to him so, easiest solution to the problem would be you staying with him.

He lets you use his bed but keeps on reminding you that it's just because you're sick so you better not be expecting such things to ever happen again. He would fall asleep in less than a minute at whatever he lays his head on, so sleeping on the ground isn't as hard as it seems. He just had to make sure that you would't step on him or his tail when you walk out of the bed.

He can ask Ruggie to nurse you and all, but decides to do most of your stuff on his own because it'd be a lot worse if Ruggie too gets sick. Sharing the same room with you has already put him on a pretty high infection risk so, that wouldn't really matter if he's the one nursing you or not. He doesn't really mind getting sick either, a free chance to take some days off school and chill; why not ?

He turns out to be pretty good with board games and there's no need to worry about getting bored while you can go for 100+ chess matches with Leona winning you each and every time; a bit ironic, but entertraining nonetheless.

He's actually really enjoying spending time with you, but isn't really expressing it. The only time when he actually shows some direct affection is when he plants secret kisses on your forehead as you're asleep.

Ruggie Bucchi

He has grown up in an awfully poor family with multiple siblings, so he's pretty familiar to the pain of seeing those you hold dear sick .He has turned into a not only responsible but also supportive boy toward friends and family, so you can make sure that he can take the best care of you while you're sick.

Perhaps his only problem is...Leona. He'd need Ruggie around even during school time and the hyena boy can't even have a full 30 minutes away from him which makes it impossible for Ruggie to take his time checking on you at least once a day.

Well, he has to find a way to babysit both of you at the same time so, -Let's take you to his own room-

Great ! He no longer needs to worry now that he can take care of you both. Leona too agrees on you staying at his as long as you don't cause any trouble.

Poor Ruggie has to sleep on the floor but assure you that he rarely gets to be the one sleeping on bed back in the home so, he is kinda used to sleeping on the cold ground.

He knows how to cook? Much and and less of it but who cares? He just asks you what you want and returns with it in 30 minutes; guess why: Because he'd just borrow the food from someone else. He doesn't mind his dirty ways indeed, you're sick so, you're more important than some dude wanting to chill on his food during lunchtime.

He just takes a list of medicines you may need and returns with all of them in his bag. He has to come at the right time on his own every time you have to take any of them since you'd most likely either fall asleep or forget to take them on time.

Enjoy your time with him, because it's gonna be a real luxury. He'd treat you nothing less than the way he treats Leona as he's sick so, you may consider yourself a part of a royal family at his service.

Jack Howl

Fluffy tsundere wolf is ready to give up on all he's got for you, what on earth might be sweeter than this ?

The moment, no, the second he realizes that you're not feeling well, Jack would immediately take you to the nurse office to see if you're. It's such a relief that it isn't thst serious, all you need to do is to take some rest.

Meanwhile you're resting in bed, he'll do the shopping and asks the kitchen for some soup ( You're sick you can't have too salty or sweet foods like normal cafeteria meals ) He gives up on his own meal to get some for you instead, it's just hunger of course he can handle it.

He feeds you and makes sure that you'll finish your entire meal, reminds you to take your medicines on time, brings you your favorite books to read and, most importantly, listens to... anything you'd ask him for.

He hardly ever lets anyone touch his ears or tail but if it's you, why not? You even fall asleep hugging his tail like a doll and he just patiently waits for you to wake up, blushing as he appreciates how cute you look while asleep.

Damn he has to keep the distance otherwise he as well would end up being sick but, it just seems impossible to say no when you ask for cuddles.

Jack tells you stories of his home town and national legends making your mouth drop in fascination. His stories seem to amaze him just as they amaze you and it makes him unbelievably happy to see you liking things he's been appreciating all over his life.

He even gets to the point of talking about his will to become all mighty and strong just like the magicians he looks up to, especially Leona. Just watching his strength gives you the will to overcome your illness and be at least a bit like Jack; he's really great, isn't he?

Azul Ashengrotto

No no no- Unacceptable! You shouldn't be sick, you shouldn't -get- sick- He told you to watch what you eat and what you wear as it's raining out there - HE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES- But now what? You are sick.

Azul panicks, he keeps on exaggerating the whole thing even if it's just a normal cold. He just isn't the type to easily deal with sicknesses. Whenever he catches a cold, it'll take him weeks to return to full health due to how weak his body is and, he's so worried about you being the same.

Soup, warm water bath, Medicines , magic potions to reduce the fever, ultimate revival spells... he showers you in all of them. Even if the virus won't kill you Azul's overprotection will most likely do, and he'll get really mad if you tell him that he's exaggerating it.

When you regain half of your full health, you ask him to let you return to school and- He immediately pits you back in bed: "No leavings, not until you're done with this troublesome fever or whatever."

You feel like an adult forced to stay in a cradle and wear diapers meanwhile Azul thinks that you're too naive to take your health seriously.

When you finally manage to pull him over, you realize how sick and pale he's gotten since you got sick. The bags under his eyes proved that he hasn't been getting much of sleep recently. "God what have you done to yourself-"

You finally tell him that he's the one who needs help , not you. You plant a kiss on his cheek and force his head to your lap, wanting him to get some sleep. He slowly understands that he might've been taking it a bit too seriously, but since you are fine now, he's kinda glad that he took it hard on you. He just wants you to be safe and sound; even if his it's going to cost his own health on the first placd.

Jade Leech

Humans get sick? It's pretty rare of aquatic creatures, especially eels to get sick so Jade's pretty new to this . 'wow , pathetic , aren't humans?' he thinks . Well anyway he can't just stand back and make fun humans while you seem to be in serious pain, but what can he do? He still has a lot to learn about human life and it's his first time having one of them sick, oh man.

Well, they tell that you should get some...rest ? Well maybe he should take you to bed. First step done , let's go for the rest. He blocks several of his classmates in the corners asking for... information. He simply takes notes . Possibly useful medicines and meals, hours of sleeping, allowed activities, useful tips, warnings, etc.

He has to read the list several times to make sure that he's got it all right. Let's nurse (y/n).

He unexpectedly goes from 0 to 100 like bam- bye eel boy hello nurse Leech. He'll turn your room into a hospital room, a good one though, filled with dolls and flowers and anything he was told to add because they send away positive vibes.

His cooking on the other hand is amazing. He'll look for several light meals for sick bodies but- chooses those which match your tastes . You can't help but to love everything he cooks . Chef's kiss.

He changes your bed pillow and cloths everyday, returning with washed, silky pillows and covers . A warm, smooth bed is what you need for a good sleep.

If there was such a status he would've been the god of nursing; wow you would've needed pay him off a lot for his service if he wasn't giving it all to his darling for free.

When you finally regain your health, he just has one more question left to ask before leading you to your daily classes: "Now now dear, would you mind rating me , and my nursing service?"

seem like he's really curious to see whether he's done it correctly or not.

Floyd Leech

Things seem so uncool when you're not as energetic as always , pale skin as if you're choking on lack of oxygen and bizarreness in your movements like a doll, smh, so boring.

Just like Jade, he's pretty new to surface life and watching you bear with illness looks pretty weird in his eyes?

When Jade, finally, informs him on what exactly happens to human body while struggling with an illness and what he must do to you to get rid of this annoying mode, he understands. Floyd still finds human's body shitty for how weak it is but decides to use Jade's words as a guide to deal with you.

A warm bed, fluffy pillows and stuffed animals, these seemed to be enough for step one: Enough of rest and sleep. He can't blame you on this one though, sleeping is always amazing. Something that never gets boring. Everything seems to be pretty fine to begin with, sadly it won't last any longer than a few hours-

He's told to bring you food, but when he returns with 4 bags filled with chocolate, candy, soda and chips; it's obvious that he didn't get the point correctly. Jade explains that your body is still way to weak for too salty or sweet foods, even highly cooked meals would worsen your immune system and make it take much longer to be healed.

Floyd goes for a second pick up and this time: this time returns with raw potatoes and frozen meat- Raw potatoes and frozen meat-. Well, he just followed everything Jade told him...? Neither too salty nor to sweet, and raw because Jade told him not to bring over-cooked stuff. Even if the virus did you no harm you would've probably died under his food selections if Jade wasn't there to stop him...

While his food choices might be horrible, Floyd's still one of the best mutuals you can have close when you aren't feeling well. With him beside you, giggling and chuckling as he rambles on how boring his day was, you've got to admit that you'd rarely feel sick when he's around. Although you're sick at the moment, nothing seems to have changed between the two of you, he enjoys spending time with you now just as much as he enjoys it when you're all safe and sound.

Well...maybe he can't be the best nurse you'd get to have , but one thing's for sure: No one can ever make you laugh like he does and, you know what say: Laughter is the best medicine~

Kalim al asim

He can't be any more worried, he stresses out whenver a friend is sick and now, it's not just a friend, it's -you-, one of the dearest and closest ones Kalim had ever had; just how can he keep calm ???

He is being raised under severe health protection and hardly ever catches even a simple cold, several people had taught him strict health routines and he had to follow them all over his life, so he is considerably familiar with ways of overcoming and illness , and that's what he's here for!

Jamil forbids him from cooking since it's too dangerous if he needs to use any knifes, but that wouldn't hold him back from finding enormous food recipes based on your favorite condiments to make your meal more pleasant.

He makes sure to prepare anything you need in a matter of seconds, golden peacock or 5000 camels, doesn't matter ! He's got way more than enough and what use would be better than giving them to you?

He can take care of you on his own, but Jamil insists on Kalim leaving it all to him and stay away from you as much as possible (No need to mention the high risk of infection for Kalim since he's almost sticking to you all the time)

Jamil as well would caress you meanwhile you rest at Scarabia (Right, Kalim proudly brought you there ) and Kalim, makes sure to stay close to you as much as he can, mostly when Jamil isn't around to tell him off- He doesn't want to put Jamil in more trouble but, you are his first priority.

You're bound to your bed, but just having Kalim around brings way more fascinating adventures than what you might get to see out there. His stories really do show you to a whole new world and takes the pain in your lungs and chest way further that your mind could catch . Perhaps Kalim is he one and only who can make your mind fly, even as your body's laying lifelessly in bed.

Jamil Viper

For the first time, someone stressed him out more than Kalim always does. He's always expecting to be scared to death because of him, but because of you? Damn he didn't see this coming.

Depending on what your illness is, he manages to freak out even more or clam himself down to his sane self, but the main point is how he's got to serve you all the best until you're totally safe.

He soon prepares any kind of medicine and chemical you may need and you have to use them all properly, don't even think of rejecting any single one of them otherwise Jamil would force feed you: "Don't be such a baby, you won't get any better unless you have these"

Just like Azul, he might be a bit overprotective with your health since he doesn't even let you leave the bed for more than a few minutes. He insists on you avoiding any sort of activities that may be tiring or heavy to your body.

To be honest, the thought of using his snake whisper on you when you don't behave or ask him to stop being so strict over a simple illness crosses his mind. Luckily, he refuses to use it. You're still his lover that'd be too heartless of him to take advantage of you like this just because you can't see how much he loves you.

He needs to keep the distance, but has to admit that it can be really hard to avoid hugging and kissing all over your face when you're gazing at him with that sweet smile.

Having you close makes Jamil realize how affectionate he actually is: How much he misses the healthy and happy you who he was never in a danger. Well maybe this nursing days gives him a lesson to at least try to have some sweeter time with you while you are all safe and sound - and not tiredly laying in your bed.

Vil Schoenheit

You can consider yourself nothing less than a Prince/ Princess when Vil of all people is caressing you. Your body is still way too weak to have control of anything going on in your life at the moment, and that's how Vil takes control over all of them- all in your life. Which means that you now have to live and do as he wishes.

He will take no effort in turning you into one of the fairest of all students in school (Not that you'll ever reach him though) as long as he can have his eyes over you. His rules are way more than just -beauty- ; just as he can be the all fair and powerful Queen who steps on you, he knows how to play the role of the nurse like a Queen would do~

A royal maiden is only to serve the royal family, so it's time to show how much of a princess /prince you can be in bed. You don't need to worry about your medicines or meals since Vil's always organized and on time with them, not to mention that his cooking too seems to be pretty good. He uses light yet, nutritious recipes that you'd enjoy and you're really surprised because these kinds food don't really look tasty.

Perhaps he just needed an excuse all this time to get this close to you, so he can take care of anything he's been dreaming to do with you all this time. Pedicure and manicure, trying on new fruit masks, resting face and body muscles to have a smoother, cleaner skin, etc.

Your room is a beauty salon at this point and you usually forget that you're actually sick.

He works on not only your physical beauty but also your manners, he doesn't care if you're sick or not . It's the best time to take away your poor manners and habits.

Well the scary Queen has got his own soft spots too; while indirectly giving you beauty lessons, he enjoys teasing you as you sometimes look pretty naive and new to all dos and don'ts of a high-level life like his, and he's more than pleased to teach you: "Pull yourself together , potato."

Rook Hunt

He isn't really into the whole nursing game but- If it's an opportunity to stalk caress and admire you all night, why not?

He is lowkey familiar with the basics so, it isn't supposed to be that difficult to handle . Finding pills and medicines isn't hard either since they can all be found at mister S's shop. ( He would've liked it better if he had to get them from a moster or something, anything more adventurous)

Though he doesn't really like quiet and safe journeys he'd actually appreciate it if it's with you. And of course, he won't let anyone else take advantage. Let it just be with the two of you and all~

He isn't about to hurt or scare you in any sort way; it's true that he just loves it when things get a bit dangerous but, he knows how to manage excitement as well. You want him to be a soft gentleman? Then that's what he's going to be.

Rook would be the softest Rook you could've ever imagined when he plays the nurse. It can't even be called nursing: It's about a passionate lover spending all his time with his darling who isn't feeling well. Even his expressions are taken to a totally different level, the mysterious smile he always puts on is replaced with a worried and, mildly sad gaze that makes your heart melt.

Might sound too dramatic bug he may even sing you to sleep. Sweetest words ever dancing to the rhythm of his unique accent that make your cheeks hurt at trying not to blush. This isn't the only drama he's up to though, even his normal speaking often ends up with your mind drowning in feelings. He won't bother giving you soft kisses on hand and forehead when you don't expect it. He likes surprising you, even if it's in a romantic way.

And...the real Rook, is only out when you're asleep. Sitting on a chair just a few inches away from your bed, a pair of eyes carefully follow the pace of your chest as it rises and falls. He's never tired, a huntsman gets no sleep as long as his prey's close by. Wow, if sweetness is all he needed to approach you, then he should give it a try more often~

Epel Felmier

His first reaction to hearing of you being sick is summarised in :Gasping, Blushing, Questioning, Sad puppy eyes. "It's just a simple fever...right? (Y/n) will soon be better..." , Epel confronts himself. He isn't getting overly emotional, but when it comes to you, he does have a sensitive spot.

At first, it is his anxiety over your health that makes him want to come over to your house to check up on you everyday but , it soon ends up being more serious. What if this is an opportunity to prove his reliability? You'd finally get to see how much of a strong and helpful man he can be. Even as he looks soft.

While Epel's trying his hardesr to seem a tough as possible, you can't help but to adore his cuteness as he is doing his best while you're sick. He bakes you the best of apple pies you've ever had and you have to admit; being sick can't hold you back from enjoying the sweet taste of fresh, caramelized baked apples melting in your mouth.

Growing up to be a country boy, he never really relied on chemicals as a useful cure to any illnesses. He's more into organic ways of helping human body into regaining its lost energy, which can be put as : 1) Healthy food 2) Enough of sleep and rest 3) Lifted up spirits and enough of humor. He'd be really protective over the last option, he wants to make sure that your self-esteem and spirits would be way better than ever

He has to keep the distance, but some small cuddles would not hurt, right? Perhaps some small forehead kisses before bedtime too. He's still pretty uncomfortable with kisses but, since you're sick...that can be counted as an exception.

Idia Shroud

He's been away from humanity for too long; long enough to almost forget that humans get sick. Robots sometimes have their codings crashed or their gears damaged, that's when they'll need an engineer to repair them . How did the cure system work with humans?? He can't really remember. Due to spending time with almost nobody except Ortho (who happens to be a robot) and hardly ever leaving his room and as the result, barely getting sick, Idia is pretty new to human body's metabolism; he isn't sure of what he might be able to do for you. But, humans have something called...immune system, right? Ah something that heals body on its own. Well maybe relying on that would be enough.

He decides to give you some far distance support instead of comimg all way down to your dorm . He can't be any more happier of technology's existence for such cases. Your immune system can heal you on its own, all he've got to do is to send some motivation your way. The summary of most of his extremely motivational texts would be : "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger! Keep it up (y/n)!!👊✨💥" and when you reply telling him how terrible you're feeling he'd just try to look for strongers sentences-

He repeatedly mistakes humans and robots and accidently texts you:" why don't you get someone to repair you?" several times. Then goes to bang his head against the wall realizing how dumb he's acting.

When you get worse he gives up. Maybe those sentences wasn't enough of motivation . Idia really does want to come visit you in person but he seems to be bound to his area. Well at least, Ortho isn't, right? He comes up with a way better idea to program Ortho to take care of you while Idia can't do it himself. He copied hundreds of anatomy, human biology and medicine to Ortho's data list. Well that seems to be enough. He can now cook, wash clothes, brings you your medicines and most importantly, remain by your side all the time as you may need help. Idia puts s small camera on Ortho so he'd be able to watch what's going on as long as you need Ortho's his help. He feels quite guilty for not showing up on his own but- maybe it's just better this way. Coming in person would do no good but him freaking out at not knowing what to do which would end up in making you feel worse. Long distance watch as he controls Ortho around is way better, even if he has to keep his eyes on tablet 24/7. He cuts back on his sleeping to make sure that nothing would go wrong. Even long distance watch seems to be stressful at this point...

He does care about you, a lot, but right now, he's no prepared to show physical affection. Let him show his love through his very own ways, he's just taking baby steps with you <3

Malleus Draconia

"Now now little one, don't give in so easealy. I know you're stronger than this..." Malleus motivates you. You certainly aren't going to die just because of a simple fever but still, wow. Humans -are- truly weak and fragile. He shouldn't really be caring for a mortal being especially if it's a human, but you are an 'exception'; you always are.

He could just leave you to Lilia and Sebek and you would've been under their watch and care 24/7, but he prefers to do this on his own since you are his favorite creature. He doesn't mind seeing how you'd overcome the pain even if it's with a simple cold. He wants to get more of you and your expressions.

He doesn't really have much to do, magic can do it all. All it takes to turn your depressing room into a prince/princess's dreamy bedroom is a twist of a finger. Go on and tell him what you want , you shall have in within a second. "All the best for you, child of man~"

While his significant magic skills are all truly stunning and helpful, his presence on his own seems to be the best part of him nursing you. He is your tsunotarou, afterall~ Not the descendant of Mistress of all Evil but only when it comes to you.

Sometimes he'd make you wish you'd stay in bed forever and ever, all to have him here, by your side. Just to have his soft, slender fingers brushing against your cheek and playing with the tip of your hair.

He does talk, but most of the time being is spent in silence since he doesn't want to bother you if it's hard for you to talk. He may pretend to be busy with something else but it's just to take your mind over the fact that he's watching you all the time. His small gestures are just as sensual as his words. Kisses on forehead, locking his dragon eyes with you , brushing your soft hair with hand as you lay on his shoulder (not that he cares about keeping the distance although you're sick. Your human illnesses are way too weak to do any harm to him, anyway~ )

His favorite time of the day is when you're asleep. You're adorable and lovely all time but, your sleeping pose, it's unimaginably beautiful to him. Watching your calm face empty of any emotion followed by the calm, yet, organized pace in your breathing as your chest falls and rises. He barely gets any sleep during the night, he doesn't need it. Watching you is way more pleasing: "Sweet dreams, my precious little human~"

Lilia Vanrouge

The most experienced, dedicated nurse here. He's been raising many of baby faes and struggling with a young, fireball shooter baby Malleus over the years. Nursing a fragile ill human like you is no more than a warm-up for him.

Chill on your bed and let him take care of everything, from the warm towels to fluffy blankets and pillows. Smooth music playing in your room as you take short naps, plushies and teddy bears around your bed giving you feelings of a newborn baby sleeping in a warm and fancy bed.

That's not all, along with his professional nursing skills, having Lilia himself around would take it all to a whole new level. He is so full of contrasts; Young and old, quite and wild, wise and careless, serious and silly and probably hundreds of other adjectives you can name.

Where else would you find a nurse who'd play you your favorite rock tracks on his guitar in the afternoon while at night, brings you cookies and hot milk to have while listening to his old but -gold- stories before going to sleep?

Lilia has got it all, old, new, calm, wild, and perhaps that's how it's never boring when he's the one you are spending time with. 'Sickness with benefits' to call. But, don't forget his horrible cooking skills.

Better hide some canned food under your pillow to save yourself from starvation when he's not around, refuse to eat his food st any cost (otherwise you'll need another 2 week hospitalized because of food poisoning-)

Make sure to thank your adorable bat nurse when you're back to full health; even if your stomach's still in pain because of his nasty cooking.

Silver

It's...his first time taking care pf someone. He is neither experienced nor educated when it comes to human health... especially because of how he's been living with fairies (who barely get sick) all over his life. The only reliable source for him would be his own memories; how Lilia used to take care fo him when he was a child. There isn't much he can remember but that'd do

Nursing doesn't seem to be that hard when he actually gives it a try - Mostly about you sleeping all day. Wow if sleeping this much is considered to be a symptom of being sick, then Silver himself has to be sick as hell 24/7. He isn't really sure if that's concerning or not

He is doing good since he seems go be pretty responsible and calm toward the whole thing, but don't expect him to be on time.

Silver wants to make sure that you'll take your medicines on time but he often fails to. He oversleeps most of the time and when he's up, he'd panic knowing that you missed your hourly medicine again.

He'd lowkey feel frustrated and useless when he misses stuff because of his sleeping issues, especially when it comes to you. He have to go for a stronger method so, he ends up in using 7 different clocks and alarms to make sure that he won't miss anything anymore; you're sick. He has to do all his best to take care of you. Nobody matters more than you do. Alarm clocks he uses are freaking loud and give him a heart attack whenever he uses them to wake up. Poor guy would need a long sleep when you're better.

He often falls asleep next to your bed after making sure that you are having a peaceful night sleep. He places a goodnight kiss on your forehead lays his head at the bottom of your bed. Who knows, maybe he would dream of you tonight, again.

Sebek Zigvolt

There's no way that you'd ever come close to master Malleus but- he still cares for you, a lot. Perhaps as much as he cares for Malleus although he refuses to confess to it. He is trained and skilled for all possible emergencies so he's all prepared to take the best possible care of you and make sure that you'll return to full health in no time.

He just knows what he is doing and makes sure that things would run smoothly. He is keeping each and every aspect in consideration and can organize everything like no one else can. From your sleeping schedule to light exercises required as you're sick. He insists on you starting to develop a better life style so that you won't end up in bed and lose time like this.

It's nice to have someone keeping the balance of your life when you need it, but when it's Sebek we're talking about, know that he might go a bit -too far- with it. He'd be overly protective and strict while you need a considerable deal of sympathy and softness too since you're sick - He collects notes of everything that was teached while you were sick and brings them to you to study, telling you that it'd be impossible to keep up with the rest of the lessons unless you study them right now, in your bed. And when you complain of it being hard to read and sit due to how weak your body is, he returns with the solution: Audio books (He isn't giving up... deal with it )

Studying isn't your only issue: he's being protective over each and every muscle you move. He'd wake you up early in the morning for a light, morning work out and doesn't let you out of the bed for the rest of the day. Whenever you complain, that's what his answer would be: " Master Lilia has blessed me with these , gloriously impressive lessons he's learned through experiences within his long- lasting life!! I believe in his words from the bottom and there's surely no cure greater than this if he says so" poor boy isn't considering he possibility of Lilia tricking him again at all.

This puppy means good, even if he fails to show it as great as you might be expecting him to. In fact he is just following all that he's told to, meanwhile he's pretty inexperienced and new to it. You may find it a bit unfair but, consider that he would've never gone out of his way to take care of you for plenty of hours everyday if it wasn't for you (Or Malleus-) seeing you sad on its own gives him wet puppy vibes let alone having you sick . He may act like a coward but, it's all because of how much you mean to him.

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mythiccheroacademia · 5 years ago

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A/N: Thank you hottie❤️ Tumblr was fucking with the format, so I had to repost. Anyways, I looovveee this request. I’ve been waiting to be in the right mood to write this. Like, jealous muscular himbos completely head over heels for their s/o? Sign me up.

Sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy this, sugar plum

All characters are 18+

Warnings: smut below the line!

Katsuki Bakugo:

SFW

bakugo doesnt get jealous

he usually felt secure in your relationship

yeah he got annoyed when kaminari would jokingly flirt with you

and yes, it made him angry when the dekusquad would literally stare at you with puppy dog eyes

and it pissed him off when kirishima suddenly became the funniest guy in the room when you were around

but he wasn’t jealous

how could he be? he’s bakugo katsuki

you agreed to go out with him. the strongest. the best. you couldn't get any better than him

right?

lmao no

the bigger the ego, the more fragile it was

bakugo doesnt handle jealousy well

there’s a small part of him that knows he can be an asshole

he’s not the most...affectionate person

but damn it, if he doesnt try his hardest for you

you notice that he gets quieter but his actions become a lot more aggressive

he’s glaring at anyone that smiles at you

it’s honestly scarier than his threats

forces you to hold hands

is suddenly into PDA??? when he kissed you in front of your friends you literally made a face

you didn't know what was up with him, but you were really confused when you told him to chill and he visibility wilted

once he came around to telling you that he wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to leave him, you were quick to reassure him

give him a couple kisses and rub his ego just a tad, and he’ll be back to normal

acts like he didn't just look like he was about to cry two seconds ago

NSFW

there are two things that happen when bakugo gets jealous

at first, he’s very rough and handsy

he likes to talk big and say things like

“imma fuck you up when we get home”

“you like when daddy does that, sweetheart?”

“kiss it right there, baby”

“youre mine. tell me your mine”

he’s doing everything he can to get you screaming and thrashing

he’ll go down on you for hours, leave you trembling, only to tell you that was a warm-up

there’s this dark look in his eyes when he’s pounding into you, gripping the headboard so he can angle himself in the best position possible

it’s like he’s trying to prove himself by wrecking you

in the midst of your fucking, just when you feel like youre about to pass out, bakugo’s head falls on your shoulder

he’s still thrusting into you, but it gets slower and deeper

needier

now it’s not just fucking

looks into your eyes with the most adoring gaze and kisses the breath of out you

he can’t speak, too deep into your lovemaking to express how much he loves you

how he’s so scared of losing you

but you don’t need his words to understand

lock your legs around his hips and tell him how you’ll always be his and he will let out a moan that makes your toes curl

when you reach your high, it’s a vulnerable moment

lots of soft kisses and hugging

wont admit to the tears that sting his eyes but is willing to express his adornment for you through his embrace and aftercare

Todoroki Shouto:

SFW

todoroki doesnt have a lot of experience with jealousy

he knows what anger is

he’s felt insecurity

and he knows what it feels like to long for something or someone

but envy was a foreign concept to him

that was until he got into his first romantic relationship with you

don't get him wrong, he trusted you with everything

you gave him no reason to question your loyalty

and it never occurred to him that you would leave him for someone else because of how strong your love was for one another

however, his insecurities always got the best of him

he had a lot of baggage

he knew that

and when someone would approach you, someone that looked free-spirited and independent, he’d wonder if he was holding you back

even then, he can’t help but think that no one is worth the ground you walked on

not even himself sometimes

he never brings it up

but you notice that he started touching his scar a lot more

todoroki would try to act more extroverted thinking it would be better if he was livelier

youre deep talks about family matter diminished little by little

he tried to fill your comfortable silence with awkward conversation

you were so confused why your bf was acting so different

it took a couple attempts to get him to spill his thoughts

once he did, he’s stark quiet, looking away, fearing that you’d be so disappointed in him

but you just take his face in your hands and tell him

“you’re my whole world shouto. why would i ever give that up?”

he holds you in his arms for a long time after that

NSFW

behind his jealousy of onlooking eyes is a deep steed of low self-esteem

and you can feel it when you get intimate

he’s always looking to please you, but now he’s desperate, trying so hard to think of what will make you feel good

it makes you sad bc he already knows the answer to those questions

but he overthinks it

he’s noticeably shier

his touches are hesitant as he second-guesses himself

is continuously asking if you’re okay or if he’s doing it right

at one point, you have to take charge and push him down on the bed

“let me show you how much i want you. just you”

licks his lips as you kiss down his body

one of those guys that believes sucking his dick is a chore 💀

“you don't have to do that” face ass

so when you suck the soul out of him, he’s SPRUNG

would write a song about it if he could LMAO

quickly says he loves you before kissing you like the world depends on it as you ride him

twirl your hips in the way he likes and he’ll hiss out curses

run your hands through his hair and kiss his scar and he’ll give you such pretty moans

please tell him how beautiful he is and how much you love him

my mans will nut on the spot

after the first round, he regains his confidence and flips you on your hands and knees

before you even know what’s going on, he’s pounding into you, gripping your hips like a lifeline

now that he’s reminded that he’s your man, he spends the night realigning your spine

bc who could do it better?

Togata Mirio:

SFW

mirio is one of the most confident people ever

not only is he secure in himself, but he’s secure in your relationship

he knows he bagged a baddie

ofc people would be all over you

he couldn't blame them! i mean, look at you!

when people approached you, he usually let you handle it

if they were persistent, he would just put an arm around your waist

“you’ve got good taste, but they’re taken! sorry!”

it’s so wholesome that the other person can’t even find it within themselves to be upset

there was only one time he recalled getting genuinely jealous

it was during the time you two weren't exclusively dating

just going on dates to see how things went

at the same time, he overheard from your friend that your ex was trying to get back with you

when he heard that, he started sweating

it wasn't jealousy, but more like fear

he was determined not to lose you

not when things were going so well

mirio literally goes above and beyond on your dates

mans deadass learns how to cook all your favorite foods to bring to you

youre crying bc the seasoning was just *chef’s kiss*

brings you flowers at random times of the day

sends you pictures of things that remind him of you

you’re just soaking up all the attention

he’s always been an extra person so you didn't think much of it

it wasn't until you two were cuddling and watching a movie in his apartment that he confesses to you

“i know that i’m competing against history between you and your ex, but i want you to know that my feelings for you are strong, y/n. and i’ll do everything to prove to you that i can be the man of your dreams”

you stare at him before bringing him in for a kiss

“there’s a reason my ex is my ex”

“but--”

“just ask me to be yours already, mirio”

he didnt have to be told twice

NSFW

it was actually that same night that cuddling turned into something a little nastier

honestly, from then on, if you cuddled for more than 20min, there was a 99% chance yall end up fucking lmao

but that night, when he was kissing your neck and grinding his dick against you, he noticed your phone light up on the nightstand

you were too caught up in his fingers between your legs but he saw the text from your ex

it read: “i know this might be out of the blue, but would you wanna catch up over dinner sometime?”

now, mirio wasn't one to be spiteful

but he couldn't help but get a little heated

knowing your ex was trying to get back with you was way different than seeing it

a tiny switch goes off in his head and now he’s ready to make it known that you and him are together

you’re in heaven as mirio’s lips suck and nip at your neck and body

his head game is immaculate

turns you on your stomach so he can massage your back and ass before sliding into you

mirio holds your neck and gives you sloppy kisses as his hips swim into you

your phone lights up again and you can barely think straight when he gets rougher

starts pounding into you like he’s tryna put a baby in you whether it’s possible or not 💀

youre grabbing for anything you can hold as he starts whispering sweet nothings about how he’s gonna take care of you

whew...what a man yall 🥴

the entire time he’s wearing a shit-eating grin

bc he knows he won

might have accidentally sent your ex a voice recording of you moaning his name

oops

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sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years ago

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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.

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inhuman-obey-me · 4 years ago

Text

The Agony & The Ecstasy

Can also be read on AO3 here

Word Count: 5.2k

Description: #HappyBirthdayAsmodeus 2021!! Before he was the Avatar of Lust, he was the Jewel of the Heavens. A journey from the angel Asmo used to be, to the demon he's become.

[cw: sexual mentions]

The Agony

He sat before the mirror of his bedroom, sketching his lean cheeks with their high bone ridges, his soft lips, the gentle curls of his champagne-toned hair, the light in his orange-yellow eyes.

The Jewel of the Heavens, they called him. The most beautiful of the angels. So lovely that even Jophiel, the patron angel of artists, had asked if she could have a painting to keep of him. And so, here he was, trying to capture his image on canvas for the archangel.

Asmodeus was proud of how everyone admired him, but truthfully he didn't think it was anything so special. Rather, he was more focused on how lovely everyone else around him was. He wouldn't say that he wasn't beautiful, but so was anyone, in one way or another. There was so much to admire in everyone that his heart ached every day. He longed to help them see themselves the way he saw them.

The lilting notes of a bird's song through the open window broke him out of his thoughts, and he set his sketch down for the moment to greet it.

"Well hello, bluebird dear," he greeted it with a smile, holding his hand out. "How are you today?" The bird trilled with delight in response, rubbing its head against his fingers, and he laughed, petting the creature. "Your singing is so lovely, my dear. What a beautiful day to hear your song."

"Oi, Asmo, good, you're here!" he heard his brother call from below the window. "Lilith and the twins snuck off down to the human world again, could ya go get them? Geez, those troublemakers...I've gotta help Lucifer with somethin' so I need you to go, okay?"

"Whaaaat, they went and they didn't invite me?" he pouted. "I can't believe them!"

"Hey, hey, that's not the point," Mammon groaned, rolling his eyes at his younger sibling. "Gabriel is looking for Beel and Belphie, and you know he'll flip if he finds out they went down to the human realm without permission."

"Okay, okay, I got it. I'll get them, don't worry! Walk with me to the portal?"

"Agh, I'm busy you know," Mammon groaned, though he didn't seem all that upset. "But fine, I get it, ya wanna spend some time with your big older brother! Leave it to Mammon!"

"You tell yourself that," Asmo giggled. He hopped down from the window, fluttering down gracefully on the lightness of his robes. "So where in the human world do you think they went this time?"

"Well, you know, Belphie always wants to go to that circus he likes. He mighta dragged the other two along with him."

"Ooooh, right, the circus! The acrobats are so graceful, with the way they glide around in the air. They don't even have wings, but they figured out a way to look like they're flying! Humans really are interesting, aren't they?"

"You think so? I think it's kinda scary, man," Mammon shuddered.

"Well just because you might trip over yourself even on the ground doesn't mean everyone's that clumsy!" Asmo teased.

"Oi! Take that back! I can walk just fine, thank you!"

"Heehee!"

"Anyway, if they're not at the circus, maybe one of those restaurants? Beel's been eating a lot lately, maybe he wanted to try some human realm food."

"Ah, yeah! The fancy restaurants down there make such pretty dishes! The chefs are such artists," Asmo said admiringly, eyes glittering. "I'd like to try one too..."

"Hey, don't forget you're goin' there to get the twins to come back! Don't get distracted by running off down there yourself!"

"But I never get to go down to see the human realm! And the three of them like it so much, you know, it'd be nice to see how pretty everything is for myself," Asmo smiled innocently.

The two of them stopped as they reached their destination.

"Oi, Asmo, I'm serious. You better not go off hitting on everyone you see again," Mammon warned.

"Hey! I'm not hitting on them, I just think everyone is beautiful, and they should know it," Asmo protested. "You're just jealous because they like me more than you. But if you saw the good in everyone you met like me, they'd love you too! You should try it sometime!"

"Ugh, Asmo...don't be gross. And seriously, come right back once you find them. Gabriel's gonna have my hide too if they don't report to him soon, after he asked me to send them over."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, I'll be back before you know it!"

The younger brother waved breezily as he stepped through the portal.

When the light of the portal faded from his vision, Asmodeus found himself in a quiet, hidden spot of a sunny park. Birds chirped, dogs were playing, and he could hear the screaming laughter of children from farther away. In the distance, he could see a news board by the nearby street, which seemed as good a place as any to start checking for information about the circus.

Before he could make it over there, though, a young woman stopped him. "Ahh, excuse me! I just, um, y-you're really handsome, and um...I-I just wanted to say hello. Are you visiting our town? Would you like to spend some time together....maybe come with me to the bakery down the street?! I want to get to know you," she blurted out.

He laughed with delight. "Oooh, aren't you adorable! Forget me, you're so pretty yourself! Your skin is so radiant, and your eyes are so sweet," he cooed. She blushed bright red at the compliments immediately. "Oh! But...I don't have time to go to a bakery right now, I'm looking for my little siblings. Unless you've seen a pair of boys with a girl around there? A tall guy with orange hair, and a sleepy black-haired boy?"

"I, um..." she paused, mind racing on how to keep him interested. "You know, I-I might have seen them. Or maybe, um...maybe the baker has! P-people are going in there all the time, you know, s-so maybe he might have seen them...? I'm sure he'll be able to help!"

It was fairly obvious that she was lying, but Asmo couldn't help but be charmed by her shy attempts at staying with him. His heart tugged him to go along with it anyway, just as it tugged at anyone he came across, especially those who were so drawn in by him too. He couldn't help it, even if it got him into trouble at times. So he agreed.

"Hmm, is that so? Okay! Let's go then."

She led him along the road to the bakery, an extravagant little spot for the size of the shop, where the man at the counter unhelpfully told them that he'd seen a lot of boys around and couldn't possibly remember them all. "Maybe if you buy some bread, I might remember better. I recommend some of these tarts...and you'd better take this big loaf right here too, to be sure I don't forget again," he said with a vicious grin. "We charge by the ounce, of course."

The angel gave him a bright smile back. "Oooh, they do look delicious! You must be so talented to create such beautiful things, sir! Oh, but...I don't have any money on me..."

This clearly irked the man, though something about Asmo's cheerful expression at least stopped him from throwing the pair straight out of the shop, as he usually might with people like this, who came in with no money. He eyed the golden bangle on his visitor's wrist. "Give me that then," he demanded, pointing. "I'll give it to my daughter. She'll like it."

Against his better judgment, the angel obliged. After all, it was just a part of the human world disguise he wore - he could just make another one later. And the baker was going to give it to his daughter, which was certainly kind. Or at least, he thought that was better than just selling it, like most people would. How lovely for a father to want to give his daughter nice presents. "Here, you can have this then. So, about my brothers...?"

The human greedily snatched the bangle from his palm. "Sure, they came in, just about an hour ago probably. The orange-haired one bought more bread than I thought I would sell all day. The girl, she was talking about wanting to visit someone in town. She didn't mention where, but it sounded like it was near the square. And the boys, they wanted to go to the circus that's visiting. They're over at the edge of town."

Satisfied with this new information but not exactly pleased about what the exchange had cost him, he thanked the baker and excused himself from both humans.

Frustrating as it was, this was how it always went. Asmodeus felt himself filled to the brim overflowing with love for everyone, painfully so. And no matter how they lied, or tried to trick him, or took advantage of him, he still loved them so much. It wasn't that he was naive, or that he didn't notice, but just that he always still saw the good parts of them too.

At least he knew where to head from here, though. It sounded like Lilith had probably split off from the twins, but since Mammon had only asked him to send Beel and Belphie back, he'd worry about her later. First, the circus.

Luckily, by this point, Belphegor had been caught dragging his twin to such shows often enough that Asmo could pretty easily predict what area of the audience he'd find them in. He made his way into the tent and quickly located the pair. "You two!" he hissed quietly from the row behind them. "You know you shouldn't be running off to the human world while everyone is still working! Mammon said Gabriel was looking for you. You'd better get back, right now!"

The twins looked at him guiltily, two sets of apologetic eyes. "Sorry, it's my fault...Lilith said she wanted to visit someone, and you know Lucifer always scolds her not to go down alone. So I said we should come too," Beelzebub explained quickly.

"It's my fault too, Beel," Belphie added. "After she met up with them, I wanted to come see the circus again...sorry."

"Ahhh, okay, okay! I can't be mad at such cute younger brothers! Just hurry up and go!" Asmo said, waving away their apologies. "I'll find Lilith to make sure she comes back okay too."

Relieved at his easy forgiveness, the two of them slipped out quietly to head back.

The elder brother sat there a while longer. He'd never actually been to a circus himself before, and he was curious. It was entrancing - contortionists twisting their bodies in fascinating ways, trapeze artists flying gracefully across the air, the balance of the tightrope walkers and the authority of the ringmaster. Though he didn't know them, his heart ached with admiration at the performers below. It was easy to see why their youngest brother loved coming to these so much.

Before he knew it, he had stayed to the end of the show, and the audience was filtering out around him. But he didn't want to leave just yet, and longed for more. Without really thinking, he wandered out to the back of the tent, to the performer's entrance.

"Oh? A fan?"

He blushed a little as realized his mistake, meeting the eyes of the acrobat who had addressed him. "Hi there! I guess you could call me a fan, yes? Your performances out there were just sooo beautiful!"

An amused smile crossed her face. "Well aren't you a cutie. What's your name, hon?"

"I'm Asmodeus!" he replied cheerily. "But my brothers call me Asmo."

"Asmo, eh? Heh. Well, thanks for the compliments, Asmo," she said, leaning in to play with a strand of his hair. "I'm Naamah. Glad you enjoyed the show."

From this close, he could see every detail of how stunning the woman was. Her makeup was thick, as it needed to be for the stage, but it suited her somehow, like her face had always been meant to wear it this way. A tight bun of dark hair sat atop her head, ringed by a blue and red crown of feathers that matched the bright colors of a costume that showed off every curve of her slender, athletic body.

"In fact, Asmo, my dear fan," she continued, "today's your lucky day. I don't feel like sticking around for another of the top hat's fucking lectures about how we need to do better tomorrow. So what do you say we go find ourselves a party, love?"

He thought guiltily back to Lilith, who he had promised to find and escort home. But on the other hand, she had come to see someone, and he didn't really know when she'd be done meeting with this person, or where they were at this point. And he'd never actually been to a party before...

"Have another drink, Asmo, I insist," Naamah laughed tipsily, passing him another cup of wine. "You act like you've never let loose before!"

Truthfully, he sort of hadn't, and for his part, Asmodeus was having a magnificent time. A quaint little band of musicians played upbeat, joyful music from the edge of the courtyard, which was packed with merry folks in all sorts of costumes. His new friend had mentioned on their way here that it was a costume party, and the costumes truly did not disappoint - people here were dressed up as angels, demons, all kinds of animals, and even as things he'd never heard of before. Even after changing partially back into his angel form to let his wings free, he didn't feel like he stood out any more than anyone else.

And the dancing! The overflowing love he felt had an outlet for once, here where he could feed the energy back through his movements, passing from partner to partner without anyone to scold him for being too loose with his love. He couldn't help but think that the Celestial Realm felt so stuffy by comparison - all music back home being generally restricted to choirs to their father, and none of the raucous laughter and chatter filling the air the way the humans were doing here. The seraphs were strict on the lower angels, insisting on upright perfection at all times.

"This is so much fun," he said as he clinked his new cup against Naamah's with a laugh, giggling even harder when she then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Pass it on," she dared in a whisper to his ear.

Being the Jewel of the Heavens, always filled with love as he was, it didn't take long for him to find another person to pass the kiss on to. He got up and lightly pecked a man by the sidelines on the cheek. "Hi there, darling. Would you like to dance?" he asked sweetly.

The man reddened slightly at the kiss but agreed quickly to a song, and Asmo found himself soon in another round of dancing, whirling between partners until he had probably danced with each person at least three times. Mid-step as he was about to pass to Naamah again, he noticed a figure moving quickly by from across the road.

A very familiar figure.

"Ack, I'm sorry - I've got to go," he said quickly, leaving his companion very confused as he dashed off from her and the rest of the party.

"Lilith!" he called out, chasing after her in the now-fallen night.

His sister startled at the sound of his voice. "Asmo? What are you doing here in the human realm?"

"You know, really I should be the one asking you that, sis!" he responded, patting her on the head as he caught up. "Mammon sent me here to find you and the twins. Although I, hehe, might have gotten a bit distracted on my way to find you after I sent the twins back. Okay, your turn, what were you doing here?"

She looked away shyly. "I was just, um...meeting someone."

"Ooooh? Tell your big brother more," he teased.

"Well, um...a-actually, Asmo, you love everyone, right? But how do you know you're in love with them?"

That certainly caught him off-guard.

"Hmmm? I never really thought about it," he mused. "I guess it feels kind of warm and fuzzy, right? Or...sometimes it's stronger. Like fire! Like your whole body is in flames, and you're going to burst apart in one biiiig explosion!" Teasingly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and mimicked some explosion sounds. "Why, my dear sister, have you fallen in love with somebody? Were you down here to ask the humans for loooove advice? Who is it, hon? Uriel? Israfil?? Camael?? Or - don't tell me it's Michael?!"

"N-no!" she said, eyes wide. "Ahh, no! No, it's not like that! And don't tell Lucifer or Mammon that I asked about this either!"

Her older brother just giggled mischievously in reply. "Well, let's just get back," he answered, placing his hand on the tree by where he'd landed earlier to open the portal back up.

When they stepped through, their two eldest brothers were waiting for them with scowls.

Lucifer spoke first. "Where have you two been, exactly?"

"Eep! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay out so late!!" Lilith squeaked, quickly hiding behind her other brother. "I just, um--I just wanted to go meet with someone. And I lost track of time."

"What about you? Don't tell me ya got distracted hitting on people again," Mammon said, turning his attention to the other just-returned angel. "I've been havin' to cover for ya all day! Raphael is not happy."

"Hey, you're the one who sent me down there to find the twins!" Asmo argued back.

"Yeah, and they came back ages ago! So where have you been!"

"Well, one of the acrobats from Belphie's circus invited me to a party, so I--"

"A party?" Lucifer growled. "You were out late for a human party?"

"I mean...! I didn't know where to find Lilith or when she'd be done meeting her person, so I just thought I'd have some fun while I was down there," Asmo pouted.

"You still shouldn't be going to human world parties, Asmo," the eldest lectured, refocusing his gaze on their sister. "And as for you, about that person you went to meet...why are you meeting with a human?"

She just looked away.

Lucifer sighed. "Never mind, we'll talk later, Lilith. Just go back to your rooms for now, it's late and the next patrols will be by soon. You're lucky Mammon was the one on duty tonight and reported it straight to me so the other seraphs don't know yet."

With relief, the two of them scurried away back to their respective living quarters.

Back in his room, Asmodeus looked over the sketch of himself he'd been working on earlier that day. After the excitement of the day and the party, it looked so bland now that he looked at it again. It was perfectly in line with the classic portrait style of paintings all over the Celestial Realm, but it felt so flat. He saw the good in everyone, right?

And the best thing about him wasn't his face, or his hair, or the way the sunlight fell perfectly across his face at noon. No, the good thing about him was how he loved everyone, wasn it? The love that filled him to bursting at every moment, the love that felt like heavenly fire coursing through his heart every time he looked at someone. That was what made him the universally admired angel that everybody loved back. This painting needed to show that overflowing love too, didn't it?

He tore the canvas off, stretching a fresh one across the frame to start again.

When Lucifer came to the brothers to say he was going to rebel against their father, Asmodeus didn't hesitate. All of them had heard about what Lilith had done, and how she was set to be punished for it with obliteration. Utter destruction, wiping her from existence. And for what? For her love?

Well, Asmo was intimately familiar with getting in trouble over love. He'd certainly felt the sharp end of Raphael's spear enough times to know that love was not especially prized or respected in the Celestial Realm. Their father had created him with this overwhelming burning of love towards all, yet that same father commanded the angels without regard for love. It was his rules that forbade Asmo from having outlets to express his love, and it was those same rules that would now destroy his sister.

Lucifer had already tried arguing for mercy, to no avail. It didn't matter if it was out of love; all the worse, in fact, because Lilith wasn't supposed to have gone down to the human realm in the first place, let alone fallen in love with one of them. Their father didn't care about love. So, Lucifer would fight.

And so would Asmodeus.

The Ecstasy

When he came to, the first thing Asmo felt was weightlessness.

It wasn't just his clothes, which had transformed from a billowing mass of white robes to a slender, form-fitting black tank top and pants. Nor was it how his large, elegant wings were now turning to four smaller, curled bat-like ones.

No, it was the lack of burning fire in his chest. What normally felt tightly contained within him was looser, freer, like something had unlocked inside of him, allowing it to spill out.

It was such a jarring, unfamiliar feeling that he gasped out for air.

"Asmo!! Beel, Belphie! Levi! Are you all okay?!" Mammon called out at the sound, rushing over. He had landed not too far away, and seemed to have undergone his own transformation, his usual softly draping outfit now full of sharp, cutting lines instead. In fact, it looked like everyone had either changed or was mid-transformation.

"Where's Lilith?" Beelzebub asked immediately, sounding panicked. "She got hit by an arrow earlier and fell during the battle, is she here?! Is she okay?!"

Belphie sat up and looked around before shaking his head. "I don't think she's here," he said softly. "What happened?"

"Mmm, well judging by how we all look, I guess we're...demons now?" Asmo chimed in.

"Aaagh, dammit! I saw Lucifer fly down all of a sudden while we were fightin', but I don't see him here either. He's gotta be around here somewhere though," Mammon said. "C'mon, get up, guys. Levi, you okay over there?"

A pitiful mumble of affirmation came from the cerulean-haired lump. Levi had awoken but, it seemed, simply opted to stay laying on the ground, as if laying there would erase away everything that had just happened.

After a quick check over each of them, Mammon seemed satisfied that there were no major injuries, at least. Aside from, obviously, them all having lost their angel forms, and seemingly having transformed into demons here. Which meant...

"Welcome to the Devildom." A demon in a crisp black and red uniform walked up to them with a polite smile. "Lord Diavolo has requested for all of Lucifer's brothers to come to the RAD student council room at once. Of course, Lucifer himself is there as well."

Ignoring the confused chatter of the brothers, he led them to a grand building, through beautifully sculpted hallways, and into a large courtroom-like chamber.

A large, dark-skinned demon in what looked to be a red school uniform was seated at the judge's seat, and beside him...Lucifer, in a similar uniform as the man who had led them here, as well as a scary-looking blond individual they didn't recognize.

Five piles of cleanly folded uniforms sat on a table in the center of the room.

In what felt like a whirlwind of explanation, the demon at the center introduced himself as Lord Diavolo, confirmed that they were indeed demons now, and explained that, as the demon prince and current ruler of the Devildom, they were now part of his domain. This was RAD, a school for demons, and the demon who had led them here was Barbatos, his personal butler. His father, who had passed the reigns of power but still commanded more respect among the nobles, would help work out the details of their new positions here in the Devildom, but he wanted to welcome them as members of the RAD student council.

It was a lot, but most importantly, they would stay together down here. They would live together, with Lucifer working out the details of their new home, and they would attend this school. Apart from this, they would be eventually assigned other responsibilities, but they would be otherwise free to enjoy the Devildom as they pleased.

As they pleased. Asmodeus wasn't sure what this all meant for them, but he liked the sound of that phrase.

Asmo sighed happily, gazing at himself in his vanity mirror. He looked perfect. His outfit was perfect, with pearly flower earrings perfectly matching the flowery sleeves of his shirt.

After they fell, Mammon had worried and fussed over everyone - not that he would ever admit it outright. Still, the worry had been unmistakable, checking in on each brother every day to make sure they were adjusting okay. But for Asmodeus, things were more than okay. It was like a blindfold had been removed from his eyes.

When he looked at himself now, he understood why everyone had always fawned over his looks - he was gorgeous! How had he never seen it before? He was dazzlingly beautiful. No wonder they had called him the Jewel of the Heavens! And though he was no longer part of, well, heaven, he was still the most stunning being to exist, in all the three realms.

That being the case, it was only right to share himself with everyone, right? Everyone had always wanted to gaze upon him, and at last, with the chains of celestial modesty shed from him, he understood that it was his responsibility to share this gift of his beauty with all.

"I'm heading out!" he called out to his brothers in the common room as he skipped out of the house with excitement. By this point, he'd been to tons of parties, but the joy of it never really wore off. The energy, the dancing, the drinks, the new people, and most importantly? Getting to do whatever the hell he wanted.

The pumping music and the flashing lights of the club greeted him as he threw open the doors. "Who's ready for an Asmo party?! Your Avatar of Lust has arrived!" he cheered.

Everyone in the club went wild immediately, as they always did for these. A night of partying, hosted by the Avatar of Lust, filled with dancing and drinks, and inevitably ending in a wild orgy at some nearby hotel room with as many bodies as could be crammed in? The demons at the club always went wild for an event like that.

Cambores, his good friend, came up immediately to give him a kiss on the cheek and pass him a drink. "Asmo, baby, we've been waiting for you! There's a whole line of succubi who have been begging for a dance with you tonight!"

"Only a dance?" he giggled impishly, as he waved to the line his friend pointed out. "Well, they do have to take turns, since a beauty like mine has to be shared with everyone. But we'll have to see if any of them can tear themselves off of me after a dance!"

Wasting no time, he grabbed the hand of the first one and whirled her onto the floor. "Bothothêl, you're back for me again tonight," he teased. "Didn't get enough of me last night?"

"No, never, Lord Asmodeus," she responded, gazing adoringly into his eyes. She shimmied against him, pressing herself close against his body, and he responded in kind. "I want you every night if you'll allow it."

"Well, I'm flattered, my dear," he answered in a sultry whisper against her collarbone, "but I'm afraid you can't hog beauty like this. But maybe next time I eat you out, I'll eat your heart along with it so I can carry you with me, if you want to stay beside me so badly." He felt the lust emanating from her at that, and took the opportunity to give her a little nibble against her neck, before twirling her away to pull forth the next two succubi from the line at once.

By the tenth or eleventh song, he was about ready for another drink - and some actual action, rather than the intimate but very short flirts he was having with his dance partners. "Sarabocres, darling," he greeted the bartender cheerfully. "Can I get a Brimstone Kiss? And...a Death Tequila Sunset for this new friend of mine right here," he added, tugging over a random demon who had caught his eye from further down the bar.

"O-oh, um, Lord Asmodeus! T-thank you," the demon sputtered in surprise.

"You're welcome," he smiled sweetly back. "So you know my name, what's yours?"

"Kamusil, sir," she answered. Her eyes sparkled as she took him in, though she quickly scooted back and looked away. "Wow. You're even more beautiful than everyone says."

Smirking, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze back up to meet his. "Well, no one can accurately describe perfection, after all. But no need to be shy, cutie, you can drop the sir and all those formalities. Tell me, what kinds of secret desires are you hiding? If you could have, hmm...let's say, ten demons here in your bed tonight, who would they be?"

As if in a trance, any hesitation in her dropped away immediately. She pointed out various demons to him, some he recognized and some he didn't, all of them drop-dead gorgeous.

A mischievous smile spread across his face. He gave her a quick smooch, and whispered, "Okay, wait for me just a bit then, and don't you leave before me. Okaaay? We'll have a good time tonight, I promise."

With that, he downed his newly arrived drink and returned to join the throngs of dancers.

What a fun plaything she'd been, truly. Despite having been so shy, Kamusil had really had a knack for spying some of the wildest partners he'd been with in quite a while. He lay idly in the bed, tracing the sleeping form of one of the many sexed out demons beside him.

It would be an exaggeration to say they'd all explored pleasures together he'd never dreamed of - he was the Avatar of Lust, after all - but certainly there were some obscure things he got to try out that night. And there was always tomorrow, or the next night, or the next.

After all, there was nothing stopping him anymore. No shame, no modesty, none of the rules binding him. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

And he loved it.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #om! asmodeus #obey me asmo #om! asmo #happy birthday asmodeus #asmo angst #angel asmo #obey me fics #writings #mod chaos in the devildom

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Leave the Cooking to Me (Sam x Rose x Reader)

Request: Sam x rose x reader. Where R was a part time chef so she’s always cooking their meals and the team is jealous of the good food

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We had way too much fun doing this one and spent way too much time looking up random food things. Gotta say that we are both a sucker for writing for Sam.

Sam and Rose were lucky and they would tell that to anyone who would listen to them. You weren’t just the sweetest human being they had ever met, or the most thoughtful. You were all of those things, and you knew how to cook. Not just recreationally either. You were the full fledged winner of Top Chef season 19, and the Sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“How can you make such good food dressed like that?” Sam asked, leaning over the island and resting her chin on her hand.

“What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows at the woman, continuing to run your knife along the onion without looking at it.

“Don’t all of your skills come from your chefs coat?” Rose asked, sliding up beside you, her hand trailing under the back of your shirt. You shivered at the cold hand touching your skin.

“I’m not Iron Man. I can function without an outfit,” you said, rolling your eyes, as you grabbed an egg. You happened to like wearing an oversized pajama shirt and short-shorts while cooking. You never felt bad about spilling anything on them, since you didn’t exactly wear them in public. “Sam, since your hands aren’t literal icicles-” Rose stuck her tongue out at you playfully “- can you hold this and warm it up to room temperature while Rose helps me hold the pastry?”

“Ohhh what kind of pastry? Why is that filling purple?” Rose squealed. You knew how much she loved when you baked for them (especially considering those croissants you made them for special occasions). She pulled the bowl closer to her, and scrunched her nose when she saw the contents.

You may have had a good track record, but that color was crazy.

“It’s Spanakopita, but we’re going to experiment just a little bit. If you don’t like it you have to eat it anyway,” You shrugged, rolling out the dough onto a cutting board, and positioning Rose’s hands right where you wanted them.

“If you make it, we’re going to like it.” Sam snorted, and Rose raised her eyebrow at her.

You bit you lip, wilting just slightly. “I just got inspired, cause the beats are going to look so good in the risotto for the Arancini,”

“If it’s anything like that curry you made last time you got inspired, I think we’ll be ok,” Sam said, kissing your neck with a grin while you worked. You squeaked a little and jumped, hip-checking her to keep her away from accidentally touching the food.

“It’s just a shame Valentine’s day already happened,” Rose said, looking at the three bowls of filling in their various places on the counter or in the fridge, “Pink, red, and purple dishes would have made great themed appetizers for your restaurant!”

You snorted and shook your head. “I wish, we could do anything this interesting.” The arancini, maybe. The other two would probably be avoided like the plague for fear of any garlic or other lingering spices. “People are too bougie to enjoy the simple things like strangely colored foods.”

“Good thing we’re not!” Sam smiled broadly, stealing a piece of orange-colored pork from the bowl to your right.

“Yeah, we get all the sass and none of the class,” Rose giggled, barely avoiding your slap at her hand as she also stole a piece of pork.

Just then you heard singing from the couch. “We are family,” Sam stuffed the piece of pork in her mouth and jumped up to grab her phone from where it was wedged between the cushions. “I’ve got all my sisters and me.”

“Tha’s Kwsten,” She spoke through her mouthful then swallowed. Do you mind if I go take this?”

“Go for it, we’re about to stick this stuff in the oven anyway,” You nodded, giggling when she tripped over a chair on her way to grab the phone. “Make sure you swallow before you answer,”

“Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to find your pants?” Kristie’s voice rang through your apartment the second Sam answered the call. You smiled when your girlfriend’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“No, Y/n is cooking. She’s so good with her hands Kris, it’s not fair,” Sam said shaking her head.

Kristie snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at the woman. “I’m sure she is,”

“Stop trying to turn everything I say into a euphemism.” Sam groaned, sending a glare at Rose who was cackling like a madwoman.

“But you make it sooo easy,” Kristie teased, “I mean what was it you said last time, ‘she kneads aggressively?’”

“Bread, Kris. She was making bread. And you’re supposed to do-I mean knead it aggressively, that’s how gluten develops.”

“Stop trying to explain it babe,” Rose sang, her voice bubbling with suppressed laughter.

“You’re just making it worse,” You nodded along.

“You know, I’m not this mean to you when Emily and Lindsey pull this shit with you. I was even sympathetic with the Sketchers thing,” Sam pouted.

“We agreed to never mention that again,” Rose said menacingly, but Sam was distracted as you handed her a plate with the Spanakopita.

Sam’s pout melted off her face at the sight of the plate. “Ooo goodies. Thanks babe,”

You kissed her cheek and waved to her sister on the phone before heading back to the kitchen to finish the next set.

“What is that?”

“Just course one of the amazing appetizers lunch my wonderful girlfriend is making for me.” Sam bit in and rolled her eyes at the taste, holding up the other half of the Spanakopita so she could see the gorgeous and delicious purple filling.

“For both of you Sammy. Don’t leave Rosie out, that’s mean,” You called out, your tongue poking between your teeth as you stirred the pot on the stove.

In the background of Kristie’s call, Sam could see other teammates gathering around the phone to see her food. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, turning the facetime camera around so they could see the two trays out of the oven and then you stirring at the stove. You waved your spoon but stayed focused. The rice was just at the point when it was most likely to burn and you needed to make sure the texture didn’t go from delicious to goopy. Risotto wasn’t for the faint of heart.

“Look at how fluffy this Bao is!” Sam said, slowly tearing one of the dumplings in half in front of the camera. Sisterly torture went both ways- her sister may turn half of what Sam said into sex jokes, but Sam could rub the delicious food in Kristie’s face.

“Why is it so orange?” Emily asked, piping in from behind the older Mewis sister.

“Some awesome Indonesian spices that Y/n thought would be good,” Sam said, taking a huge bite out of the bun.

“Tamarind and Turmeric in the mix,” you called out from behind her.

“It’s not fair that your girlfriend is a literal chef who enjoys cooking in the weekend,” Emily whined, followed shortly by a “shut up Sonnett” from Lindsey and a thump.

“Experimenting apparently,” Rose said, mischievously.

“Not helping dear. Anyway, what were you calling about Kris?” Sam said pointedly.

“We just wanted to know what you eta for camp was?” Kristie asked.

“Um, the flight leaves tomorrow at what time was it again Rose? 8 am?”

“Try 4:30 am Sam,” You rolled your eyes. It was going to suck, but you were going to make sure to pack some tasty overnight oats so no one was grumpy on the plane.

“Ugh. That’s bullshit. Anyway, takeoff at god-awful early in the morning, and then we’ll see you when we land!” Sam said. She hung up the phone and moved back towards the counter.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll schedule the flight next time,” You leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Now how bout you help me roll some balls?”

*****

“I don’t know what we did wrong this time?” Kelley said, poking the overly pale cinnamon rolls that had just come out of the oven. Then she turned the roll over to see a crisp black scorch on the base. “It looks like we took them out just in time though?”

“They’re pale on the top and burnt in the bottom,” Rose whined, tapping the middle of one of the rolls experimentally.

“Kind of line you Rose,” Sam laughed, patting her shorter girlfriend on the back.

“Haha, at least they’re not hockey pucks like the last batch,” Rose grumbled.

How they had let their teammates talk them into this, she didn’t know. What she did know was that cooking with you was way more fun than doing it with this bunch. At least with you everything turned out tasty in the end. And if she accidentally messed something up you always knew how to fix it.

“Stop that,” Kelley swatted Alex’s hand away from the bowl of icing. “That’s unsanitary. Let us drizzle it on the rolls first and then you can clean the bowl.”

“But then what are we gonna do with this caramel you insisted I stir?” Emily asked, looking up from the pot in front of her.

“It’s for the next batch. You put it in the bottom before you bake,” Sam answered, beginning to roll out the next set of cinnamon rolls.

“And technically, we didn’t insist you do anything Sonnet. We mentioned our idea to make caramel for the cinnamon rolls and you jumped up and said “I volunteer as tribute”” Rose grumbled. “You didn’t even let us suggest a recipe.”

“Which considering the success of the other recipes you picked, might have been a good idea,” Emily said, frowning slightly at the bubbling mixture in front of her. She was stirring but the bubbles weren’t going away like they did with pasta. Maybe because it was thicker? She stirred faster to compensate.

“Hey guys, what are you-... oh shit,” You raced over to the stove, nearly barreling into Emily as you grabbed the practically overflowing pot of molten sugar and moved it off the heat, praying you had gotten to it before it was too late. You really didn’t want to have to explain to the trainers why you and Emily had third-degree burns if the pot exploded.

You spun towards the group of older players, glaring at them. “Who let the child do the most dangerous job?”

“Dangerous?!?” Kelley and Rose sputtered. Sam just blinked at you

You shook your head and pinched the space between your eyes. “If it crystallizes and you don’t take it off the heat it can explode. You don’t stir sugar,”

“Oh. Well. At least there’s still icing?” Sam grabbed one of the better rolls and gave it a hearty helping of icing before handing it to you.

“What did you use, because Alex is vegan and she’s been eating it?” You narrowed your eyes at the offered plate, glancing sideways at a set of very pale rolls and a set that were very burnt and flat.

“Flaxseed and applesauce instead of eggs and oat milk instead of milk. And margarine instead of butter.” Kelley said, automatically. She and her fiance had been making vegan substitutes for a while now, and while they might not have been traditional cinnamon roll ingredients, she knew the measurements by heart, so that’s what they had used.

You bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you reached out and swiped a bit of frosting from on top of the bun and put it into your mouth.

You gulped when the salty substance hit your tongue, trying and failing to conceal your wince after the flavor. Your girlfriends were a lot of things, but apparently good cooks wasn’t on that list. “Hey, what container was the powdered sugar that you used for this in?”

“Um, this one?” Kelley said, sliding you a container.

Your eyes widened at the blue-lidded container. You had been experimenting for a new dish at the restaurant and had gotten a hold of some micro powder salt flour for it. You thought it would give the new cracker-jack-themed desert a better taste, and help to balance out all the sugar from the Caramel ice cream.

“That’s not sugar,” you said weakly.

Alex dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted it, gagging. “It’s salty!”

Sam frowned down at the plate in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to do this, to begin with, but the team had insisted. Assured her they knew what they were doing and that you would love the surprise. Instead, Emily had almost burnt down your kitchen and everything was a mess.

“Is none of it alright,” Rose asked softly from behind you, her lip jutting out.

You scanned the kitchen, looking from the still ominously bubbling ooze on the stove, to the cinnamon rolls so undercooked you could catch salmonella from them to the icing, then finally to a glass on the counter. You grabbed it and took a large swig of vanilla oat milk.

“Your milk tastes great!” you said enthusiastically, as the others started laughing.

Sam and Rose just wilted further. You sighed, wrapping your arm around your taller girlfriend and holding your hand out to Rose. “It’s the thought that counts guys. And I love the thought,”

“That’s what your parents tell you when you give them shitty presents so you don’t feel bad,” Rose grumbled, and Sam nodded.

You sighed, unable to keep your lips from tipping up in a smile. It was just. It was so bad it was funny. “Maybe next time start with something a little easier? I’d love some scrambled eggs and toast!”

Sam sighed. “You hate eggs,”

You laughed again. “But I love you, even if you two can’t cook,”

You leaned up to kiss under Sam’s chin and over to Rose’s cheek. You loved them and would remind them that their skills were on the field. They should leave the kitchen stuff to you.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #sam mewis imagine #sam mewis x reader #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine #sam x rose x reader #literalhedgehog

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under-sedationnn · 3 years ago

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the arcana: main 3 reacting to mc bringing them breakfast in bed

anonymous: Could you do main three (arcana) reacting to reader surprising them with breakfast? Feel free to ignore this!

thanks for the request!! i generally don't ignore requests unless i, for some reason, feel uncomfortable fulfilling them :) so i definitely wouldn't pass up something this cute!! i'm assuming you wanted a headcannon simply because you didn't specify otherwise, but if you would like for this to be converted into imagines for each of the characters, just let me know!!

requests for the kissing prompts and physical affection prompts are STILL OPEN. please send them in with the character of your choice (which could be any character from any series i write for) and i will create an imagine!! thanks and happy reading!!

- i feel like this would be a little new to him

- because he's usually the one who brings you breakfast in bed

- to the point where it's not really a surprise anymore, like it's low-key expected

- you look forward to it

- however

- he had a really long night last night

- new inventory for the shop had gotten a little out of hand and he spent quite a few hours stocking shelves, sweeping the floor, cleaning glass, etc.

- you helped as much as you could, but he sent you to bed after it got dark

- so waking up with him still in bed was a nice surprise, and allowed you to return the favor

- he stirred a little in his sleep at your movement, but dozed back off immediately

- you decided on a lighter breakfast, something that would be refreshing

- the oven salamander toasted some bread from the market

- and you laid out slices of fresh fruit on a cutting board, placing the bread along with it

- you decided on a bright, citrusy tea

- he was still asleep when you brought it into your shared bedroom

- "asra? hey, wake up"

- shaking his shoulder kinda did nothing, i feel like he's a heavy sleeper

- a small kiss on his forehead

- that's what woke him up, love that

- when he saw the breakfast waiting at the end of the bed, two cups of tea steaming, he smiled sleepily and kissed the inside of your wrist

- "are we feeling generous this morning?" he mumbled against your skin

- "why wouldn't i? i thought i should repay the favor at some point"

- "it's not a favor when i bring you breakfast, i enjoy doing it"

- "well so do i, we can start taking turns from now on"

- he laughed lightly at that, and shared his breakfast with you

- most certainly fed you, and you did the same for him

- he really appreciates it, and thinks it's sweet that you would want to take care of him

- the morning is filled with quiet conversation, soft touch, and the rustle of bed sheets against bare feet

- so one

- this man can't cook

- soooooo this is not like asra

- he's used to you making breakfast for the two of you because the other option isn't really worth it

- you don't usually bring him breakfast in bed though

- and he honestly usually barely touches the breakfasts you do make because he's always in a rush to get out the door

- he gets up hella early to get to the clinic

- but you had planned this

- once the sun began to creep through the windows, you were up and out of bed

- did he protest? 100%

- "trying to escape me so early in the day? really, y/n, that's just cruel"

- "i have a surprise for you, so you're gonna have to deal without me for just a little bit"

- a sleep smirk ensued

- "a surprise?"

- "oh really, julian, nothing like that"

- a peck on his chest

- "that's for later"

- with a groan, he rolled over the other way and was back to sleep by the time you slipped out of your bedroom

- when he does make time to eat, julian really enjoys hardy breakfasts

- eggs, black coffee, some sort of breakfast meat, and lots of toasted bread from the market

- fruit platters really have no place in this meal for him, much to your protest

- you got to work, the steam from the poultry causing a greasy film to line the air

- it smelled delicious

- when you brought it in to him on a small tray, he was getting dressed

- dropping a boot to the floor, he smiled and asked, "is this my surprise?"

- "yes, and you had better eat every bite, i worked hard on it"

- "oh, so demanding," he teased, "if my appetite is just as taxing, i'll try and eat you up, as well"

- "only after you've had your breakfast"

- agreeing to your terms, you sat down on the bed and ate the filling plate of food with him

- the morning was filled with the pungent scent of black coffee, the crack of market bread, and the sound of julian's soft laughter

- i don't really think nadia is used to breakfast in bed

- she is used to being served her food

- but more so in a formal dining room, with guests, and in proper clothing

- so when you executed your plan of bringing her such a meal in bed, her servants were as shocked as you knew she would be

- the chef literally didn't even know what to tell you

- "you want to what?"

- "i want to make her breakfast, and then bring it up to our bedroom"

- "oh okay, uh, do you want me to help?"

- "no, you can start preparing lunch if you'd like"

- while raiding the pantries, you realized just how much food you kept in the palace kitchens

- spices, herbs, oils, grains, poultry, fine cheese

- it was all a little much

- so you decided on something simple

- an omelet was easy enough to make, and adding leafy greens and strong cheeses to the center of it was enough to make it look fancier than it was

- plating it alongside a bowl of fruit, diced and fried potatoes, and a glass of fresh squeezed lemonade, you made way for her sleeping chambers

- "milady, your breakfast is served"

- you tried your best to sound like portia, though it came out a bit silly

- lifting the sleeping mask from her eyes, she took in the sight of you standing beside the bed with a large, silver tray

- "y/n, darling, what in the heavens are you doing?"

- "i made you breakfast!"

- bending down slightly, you showed her the platter full of food

- her cheeks blushed slightly, and her eyes gazed at you lovingly

- "i think this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me"

- although you knew that your cooking skills didn't even come close to that of her professional chefs in the kitchen below, she ate everything with a smile and thanked you many times over

- the morning was filled with your voices echoing off the marble of the sleeping chamber, the clink of glasses, and the scent of nadia's sleep ridden body wafting throughout the air

#nadia the arcana #the arcana asra #asra the arcana #the arcana nadia #the arcana julian #the arcana imagines #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #arcana game

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atlafan · 4 years ago

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It’s Electric - One Shot

a/n: I have no idea what this is or why I thought of it, but enjoy CEO!Harry with a blue collar!Y/N

Warnings: Smut (slow burn, I’m so sorry.) Not proofread, sorry!

Words: 15.2K

Being a female, blue collar worker was interesting to say the least. Most of the guys you worked with were either fresh out of college and starting their apprenticeship, or they were in their mid-forties, married with kids. You did the college thing, and got a degree in mathematics, but you didn’t want to be a teacher, and you sure as hell didn’t want to go into computer science. Your father was an electrician, and you asked him for help getting into his union. Electrical work involved a lot of math, especially trigonometry.

You were in your mid-twenties, able to live alone, and working a job that had good benefits. A lot of your friends didn’t quite understand it because you sometimes had to work traditional holidays, and you really couldn’t take time off. But the overtime pay was incredible, and when you were able to take a vacation, you had plenty of money for a good time. The one thing you were sort of missing was companionship.

Most of the guys on the job just assumed you were gay. It was a stupid stereotype. To be fair, you did have to wear a lot of flannel and you never wore makeup, and you constantly had hat hair from your hardhat. Again, a lot of stupid stereotypes.

Your union had gotten a contract together to do maintenance on a specific building in the city. It happened to also be where one of your best friends works so you’d be able to go on lunch together.

“Y/N!” She squeals. “Look at you, I’ve never seen you on the job before.” She tugs at your flannel. “I think you’re the reason mom jeans came back into style, you look so cute.” She was the best hype man there was.

“Thanks, Stacey.” You chuckle. “I don’t wanna get in trouble, I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

You had never changed so many lightbulbs in one sitting. You hated maintenance work, but it beat being on unemployment. Next on the list was to run some tests on the electrical outlets. You make your way through specific people’s offices. You see your friend again, her desk was outside the CEO’s. She was his executive assistant.

“Let me just make sure he’s not on a call.” She says and you nod. She knocks on the door and opens it. “Mr. Styles? The maintenance crew is here to run inspections in your office.”

“Thanks, send ‘em in.”

She smiles and gestures for you to go in. She grabs you first, pulling you back.

“Remember, he’s British, and very hot.”

“Stacey…you have a boyfriend.”

“I’m well aware, I’m just preparing you.”

You roll your eyes and walk in.

“I’ll try to keep it brief.” You tell him and he nods. You click your pen and make a few notes on your clip board. You grab your outlet tester from your tool belt and get to work. He tries to continue typing at his desk, but curiosity gets the better of him.

“This might sound rude, but I was expecting some old guy to come here for this.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” You smirk at him and continue around the room. “This office is huge.”

“Well…it should be. Worked hard enough for it.”

“Right, you’re the CEO?”

“That’s right, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that.” You make a disgusted face.

“Sorry, it’s just something I say.” He blushes.

“I need to get under there.”

“Excuse me?”

“Under your desk, I need to check the floor outlets.”

“Oh.” He stands up and moves his chair out of the way. He looks away as you get on your hands and knees, but he’s a man, so his eyes flicker down to your ass. He looks away immediately. You stand back up and make some notes.

“Alright, all set. Have a good one.”

“That’s it?”

“Pretty routine inspection. You all take good care of your offices. Nothing to worry about. We replaced all the lightbulbs that needed it, made them all LED.”

“Thanks.” He smiles.

You walk out and confirm with Stacey where you’ll be meeting her for lunch. Harry notices this. After you’re gone, Harry goes out to Stacey’s desk.

“Stacey, you’re friends with that woman?”

“Yeah! We go way back, Mr. Styles. She’s my best friend, actually. We’re having lunch in a bit, would you like to join us?”

“No.” He chuckles. “No, that’s alright. Um…so she’s an electrician?”

“Mhm, she’s really smart. She was top of her apprenticeship program a few years ago. She’s part of some union now that he dad was in. She likes it.”

“Ah…” He looks away for a moment. “You and I know each other pretty well at this point, right?”

“I’d say so. I mean, my boyfriend and I have been to your house for parties.” You giggle. “Why?”

“Is she single?”

‘Y/N? Yeah! Totally single.” She beams. “Not that she can’t get a date, she can. She’s just been busy lately.” She bites her bottom lip. “Do you…want me to give you her number?”

“Only if she wants to. See what she thought of me on your lunch, would you?”

“I’m on it.”

You and Stacey meet up at a Panera Bread not too far from the office building. You’d be doing inspections there all week, on every floor.

“Alright, I’m just going to come right out and say it. Harry wants your number!” She squeals.

You nearly choke on your salad.

“Who?!”

“Harry! Mr. Styles, my boss. The CEO of-“

“Okay, okay. What the fuck, I talked to him for like two seconds. He also called me darling, I didn’t like that.”

“He calls everyone darling, or love. He’s British, remember.”

“What does that have to…? Never mind.” You shake your head.

“He must think you’re cute. He hasn’t dated in a while, as far as I know. He’s super sweet, Y/N. Can I give him your number, please? He could really sweep you off your feet.”

“I’m not looking to be swept, I’m looking for a partner, someone to spend time with. Not someone who flashes cash around.”

“You’re making excuses.”

“Fine.” You shrug. “Give him my number.”

Stacey can’t wait to get back up to her office to give Harry your number. She knocks on his door and enters. He’s just finishing his lunch.

“Here.” She slaps a piece of paper on his desk. “That’s her number. I’ll warn you, she’s stubborn, so…play it cool.”

“Don’t I always?”

“I said cool, not suave. She hates that shit.”

“When should I call? I don’t wanna seem too eager…”

“She might think you’re playing around if you don’t call her tonight. Call her after work.”

You were hanging out on your couch, fresh out of the shower in a tank top and shorts, digging into a pint of ice cream. Your phone goes off, and you see it’s not anyone you know. You swipe to answer and stick your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“Hello?”

“Hi, uh, is this Y/N?”

“This is she.”

“It’s Harry.”

“Who? Oh! Mr. Styles from the office building.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “That’s me.”

“Stacey gave you my number?”

“She did. I hope it’s alright that I asked her for it.”

“Hey, however your relationship works is none of my business.” You take a bite of your ice cream. “So, why’d you want my number anyways?”

“So I could ask you out.”

For the second time today you choke on your food.

“Excuse me, one second.”

He hears you coughing and he tries not to laugh. You get a glass of water, and sit back down.

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

“Why do you want to ask me out?”

“I, well, to be blunt I’m attracted to you.”

“Why?” You scoff. “Got a thing for girls in loose jeans?”

“They weren’t that loose.”

“What?”

“Nothing, listen, I think you’re pretty and I just thought-“

“Pretty? Wow.” You scoff.

“You’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” He sighs.

“Hard work doesn’t seem foreign to you. It’s how you got that nice office of yours isn’t it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to go out for dinner with me some time?”

“I’m free Saturday if you are.”

“I’m free.”

“Pick me up at seven, I’ll text you my address when the time comes.” You hang up before he has a second to say anything else.

You text Stacey to let her know you’d be going out with Harry on Saturday. You were actually sort of excited.

On Saturday, you go to your hairdresser for a blow out, and to have your nails done. It was a very nice treat. You get your make up on and pick out one of the dresses you never get to wear. It was black and simple, but you were exited to wear it. You get a call from Harry right at seven.

“Hello?”

“Just pulled up, I’m downstairs.”

“Be down in a second.” You grab your purse and head down.

Harry had a suit on and was standing outside a black car. His jaw nearly drops when he sees you. All he had to go on was that day in his office. You looked like a completely different person.

“You look…lovely.”

“Thanks.” You smile. “I don’t get to dress up very often.” You blush slightly.

He opens the back door of the car for you and you raise an eyebrow.

“I have a driver.”

“Oh…fancy.”

You slide into the car, and Harry comes around on the other side. He taps on the partition, and the car moves.

“I hope you like Asian food.”

“Love it.” You say. “Oh! Are we going to that hibachi place?”

“No, but it’ll sort of be like that.”

“Do you always use a driver?”

“For city stuff, yeah. When I’m out at the beach or upstate I drive myself. Sometimes I get my picture taken when I’m out, learned a long time ago it’s best to just have a driver.”

“Like…paparazzi?”

“Yeah…sometimes. Not that often anymore. There was this, uh, model that I dated a few years ago-“

“Tell me again, why were you so attracted to me?”

“You caught my attention. Not a lot of people do.”

Your cheeks grow slightly red. You feel the car come to a full stop. The driver gets out and opens the door for you. Harry slides out after you. You watch as he tells the driver how long you’ll roughly be. As you walk into the restaurant, the hostess greets Harry almost immediately. You follow her past the main dining area, and are brought into a private dining room. There was a table for two set up already. You give him a confused look.

“I like my privacy.” He pulls your chair out for your and you sit down.

“Is there any particular reason we’re sitting next to each other.”

“The chef is going to make our food for us in a few minutes. Told you it was sort of like hibachi.” He grabs the bottle of wine on the table and opens it. “Would you like some? It’s plum wine, it’s delicious.”

“Um…sure.” He pours you some and you take a small sip. “Hm, different.”

“So, how does one become an electrician?”

“How does one become a CEO?” You smirk. “Lots of hard work, school, and luck.”

Before Harry can speak again the chef walks in, and a few other follow him in with a cart. There was a flat top where he’d be able to make whatever you wanted. One of the waiters brings over a tray of sushi to start with. You grab your chopsticks and take a piece.

“Oh, that’s good. I love sashimi.” You say.

“Good evening, folks.” The chef smiles. “Tonight I’ll be preparing a delicious steak, kale salad, and for dessert fried banana ice cream.”

“That all work for you? I sorta had to tell them ahead of time.”

“Sounds amazing.”

You watch as the chef prepares the steak and the kale. It smelled delicious already, and it was cool to watch as it was done. You and Harry continue to enjoy the sushi in the meantime.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“About what?”

“Becoming an electrician.”

“Oh…well, my dad was one, and he was in a union. I have a B.S. in Mathematics, but I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with it, so I asked my dad for some help getting into the union, and the rest was history. I get to use my degree every day. Not a lot of people can say that.” You smile and take a sip of the wine. “Do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Schmooze on a first date.”

“I’m not schmoozing.” He gasps.

“I’m just saying…this is, like, really fancy. You could have taken me to a burger joint, I’m not picky. I just don’t want you thinking you to need to flash your cash around. I get it, you’re reach and do well for yourself, you know? I wanna know what’s underneath all that.”

Two plates are put in front of you.

“Thank you.” Harry says to the chef and everyone else leaves the room. “I wasn’t trying to flash my cash.” He cuts his steak and takes a bite. “I just wanted to show you a good time.”

“By booking a private room at a really nice restaurant?” You smirk and take a bite of your steak. “Although, this food is delicious.” You use your napkin to pat the corners of your mouth gently. “How’d you get into the business that you’re in?”

“Well, I always wanted to be in sales, do a little bit of traveling, that kind of stuff. When I was in uni, the idea of property management sort of intrigued me, so I looked a little more into that. I started off in the mail room while I was getting my MBA, and then just sort of worked my way up. I bet my company has provided a lot of work to your union, other than just maintenance.”

“It definitely does, I recognized the name. You guys have put up buildings all over the place. You’re kind of like Richard Gere’s character in Pretty Woman.”

“I suppose I am! I love that movie.” He clears his throat. “So, you didn’t want to become an engineer or anything?”

“Nope, I like working with my hands.” You shrug and take a sip of your wine.

“Is it hard being in a male dominated profession?”

“Isn’t it pretty male dominated up in your office?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Most of the women up there were either assistants or other low ranking positions.”

“Are you saying your friend works a low ranking position as my executive assistant?”

“Stacey likes what she does, she feels fulfilled and needed, at least that’s what she tells me. I’m just saying, anywhere I would have gone, it would probably look the same. Besides, I’m not the only woman on the job, I’m just one of few, and I’m one of the younger ones. The guys are all nice enough.”

A few moments later a waiter comes in to clear the plates and someone else brings out the fried ice cream.

“I’ve never had this before.” You smile. “I’m excited to try it.”

“Fried ice cream is delicious, especially after eating a steak with so many spices in it.”

You both dig in. You lick your lips after taking a bite.

“Mm, that is so good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Harry squared up the bill, and out the two of you went. You thanked him over and over for paying. He wanted to ask if you felt like grabbing another drink anywhere, but he wasn’t so sure if you’d be into it. Maybe that could be saved for a second date. His driver brings you home and Harry gets out to walk you up the steps of your building.

“I had a great time.” He blushes. “I’m glad we could do this.” All you do is smile and nod. “Um, well, so I have your number, I’ll give you another call sometime?”

“Okay.” You get your keys out of your purse. “Thanks again for dinner.”

You key into your building and he watches you disappear inside. He was stunned. Not even a goodnight kiss, hell, even a hug would have sufficed. Usually when Harry took a woman out on a date at the very least he got a kiss on the cheek, if not that most of the time he would get invited up. Did he do something wrong? Were you not as attracted to him as he was to you?

“Tell me everything! I wanna know what to expect tomorrow morning and if I need to add a caramel swirl to his coffee.” Stacey giggles over the phone with you the next morning.

“It was…okay.”

“Just okay?! Didn’t he take you to that nice Japanese place?”

“Yeah, the food was excellent, but the atmosphere was weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had us seated in a private room and we basically had this personal chef. It was awkward when things got a little quiet. There was a little music in the background, but I would have felt more at ease in the main dining area.”

“He likes his privacy.”

“So he said. Apparently sometimes paparazzi follow him?”

“Yeah, about a year ago he was dating this Italian model. He started getting photographed. They followed him around a bit after they broke up, but we haven’t seen too many in a while.”

“I don’t know why he’d want to go from a model to me…”

“Oh, stop it. You’re gorgeous! So…are you saying you won’t see him again?”

“I don’t see why I would. I didn’t feel any sparks flying between us. He seems sort of hollow, Stace.”

“No! He’s so sweet! He can just be sort of…I don’t know…awkward. He’s amazing when he’s making a deal, but outside of work I know he can be a little social awkward.”

“I don’t think I wanna be with someone as rich as he is.”

“He was just trying to impress you, I’m sure. You didn’t have any fun?”

“I had a little…but not enough to go on a second date.”

Stacey swallowed hard. Harry was a very sweet man, and extremely respectful…but he wanted something he worked for it. There was no way he was going to let this, or you, go.

“Morning, Stacey.” He says to her with a smile. He grabs his coffee from her desk.

“Morning, Mr. Styles.”

“Have a good weekend?” He asks as she follows her in. He looks at the mail she’s already put on his desk.

“Yeah, Dan and I visited his parents out at the lake. It was nice.”

“Good for you guys.” He looks at her and smiles. “Been together a few years now, right? When’s he popping the question?”

“Oh, Harry.” She swats a hand at him as he chuckles. “Soon. Anyways, you’ve got a meeting at nine, and then this afternoon you’re to go to that new property we just bought. The construction workers will be there, it’ll be good for you to meet the crew.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. I’m dying to see the place again. Haven’t been since we saw it last.” He sits down at his desk. “Hate wearing those hard hats though, they always mess up my hair.” He smirks.

“I don’t think anything could mess up your hair.” She laughs and turns to leave to go back to his desk.

“Wait, uh, did you happen to speak with Y/N at all?”

“Oh! Um, was this past Saturday the big date?”

“You know it was, quit playing.”

“We spoke, yeah.”

“Did she mention me at all? Trying to gauge when I should call her next.”

“Oh, so you wanna see her again?”

“I do.” He smiles. “So, she say anything?”

“Yeah…um, she said she had a nice time.”

“Was that it?”

“Pretty much, but to be fair, we talked more about my weekend. Barely let her get a word in, you know how I can be sometimes.”

Stacey walks awkwardly back to her desk. She prayed that if he did reach out to you, you’d at least let him down easy.

Harry leaves around one in the afternoon to head to the property. He and the COO go together in a car. When they get there they both shake the foreman’s hand and walk around the property.

“The electrician’s showed up this morning. They’ve certainly got their work cut out for them.” The foreman says. “Great workers though, union contract just how you like.”

Harry nods and continues walking. He notices the electricians on their afternoon coffee break.

“Check out the suits.” Frank says to you. You smirk and look over your shoulder. You immediately look back at Frank. “What?”

“I know that guy…the one in the blue suit.”

“No shit, how?”

“He, uh, took me to dinner on Saturday.”

“What?!”

“My friend is his executive assistant, she gave him my number after we met last week doing those inspections.”

“No offense, but I thought you were gay.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Frank.” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“So…some big wig took you out? How was it?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, and I certainly don’t want to-“

“Y/N?”

You turn around slowly to look at him.

“Hi Harry.”

“Y/N, you should address him as Mr. Styles.” Your foreman says.

“That’s quite alright, we know each other.” He smiles at you.

“We sure do, excuse me.” You grab your hard hat, stick it on, and head inside with Frank.

“How do you know her?” The foreman asks Harry.

“She’s good friends with my assistant.”

The foreman brings Harry and the COO inside to show them the bit of progress that’s been made on the interior thus far. Harry sees you up on a ladder helping a wire get fed through a hole.

“Got it!” You yell up, and secure it.

Harry and the COO stick around for quite some time making sure everything was to their liking. He’s there until the end of the work day and sees you walking with your toolbox to your car. You wave goodbye to Frank as you get everything in your trunk. It was a nice size SUV. He watches as you unclip your tool belt and slightly rub at your hip bones. He decides to come over to you.

“Hi again.” He smiles and you nearly jump.

“Jesus, you’re just everywhere.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, darling.” You scrunch your face at the word. “Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.” You shake your head and throw your hard hat into your trunk. You take your hair out of its bun, and shake your hair out. “Can I help you with something?” You close your trunk and lean against your car, crossing your arms.

“I just, um, well, I was wondering when I could see you again.”

“You’re seeing me now.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I mean, when can I take you on another date?”

“Harry…” You look down, then back up to him. “I…”

“I should have texted you afterwards, right?” He sucks his teeth. “I didn’t wanna seem too eager.”

“You really had that good a time with me that you wanna take me out again?”

“Well, yeah. Didn’t you?”

You had two choices. You could either crush the man in front of you and walk away, or you could cut the guy a break and give it another go. Would it be so bad to let him take you out again? Maybe this time you could call the shots.

“I did.” You swallow. “I’d like to go out again.”

“Great!” He beams at you. “I was thinking we could-“

“I’d like to plan it.”

“Oh…well, alright. What did you have in mind?”

“You’ll find out Friday night. You’re free then?”

“I can definitely make myself available.”

“Perfect.” You turn on your heel and get into your car. Once again you leave him standing there, stunned.

“You’re giving it another shot?!” Stacey practically screams through the phone.

“Mhm.”

“What made you decide?”

“Well, he was just standing right in front of me. I felt sort of bad. I figured maybe I was being too harsh before. It can’t hurt to go out again.”

“Where are you going to take him?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I was thinking of going to that bar I’ve been to with Frank. I’ve taken you a couple of times.”

“Oh! That place with the darts and the live music?”

“Yeah! I think he needs a night to be a little less fancy, don’t you?”

“Definitely! He won’t know what hit him.”

Harry was on cloud nine all week. He couldn’t wait to see you again. He even had flowers sent to your job site. You were thoroughly embarrassed. The guys all gave you shit for it. He was a little surprised when you didn’t even text him to thank him for them, but he just brushed it off and kept his cool. When you did finally text him Thursday evening, he nearly squealed.

You: what’s your address? I’ll be picking you up around eight tomorrow

Harry: late start to the evening, where we headed?

You: that’s for me to know ;)

His stomach filled with butterflies all because you sent a winky face. He was having a few doubts that maybe you didn’t like him that much, but you were being playful with him now. This was good.

Your hair was down and wavy, you had a white tank top on with a dangly necklace, and some jeans. You drive to Harry’s building. It was much nicer than yours, naturally. You text him and let him know you’re on the street. He comes walking out moments later in a black silk shirt and a pair of yellow patterned dress pants. You squinted through the window and noticed they were sort of tight around his thighs. He waves at you and you wave back.

“This is fun already.” He says as he buckles up. He looks down at you. “I’m overdressed.”

“Not at all. You’re dressed like you, that’s good. This is how I like to dress.”

“You look cute.” He says.

“Thanks.” You start to drive off towards the bar.

“So, now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“To a bar, hope you’re thirsty.” You smirk at him.

As you continue to drive Harry takes note of the music on the radio and even the way you drive the car. You were only using one hand, on the bottom of the wheel. You were so easy going.

“This is a nice car.”

“Thanks, bought it last year. I used have a dinged up old truck.”

“Do you miss having a truck?”

“Not really.” You shrug. “I wanted something more like this. When you have a truck everyone always wants your help with stuff. It’s bad enough that I’m the handy friend.” You chuckle. “I’m always being asked to help repair stuff or whatever. I don’t mind, but sometimes it’s a lot.”

You get over to the bar and find a place to park.

“Can’t remember the last time I was on this side of town.” He comments as you walk inside.

There were a lot people around, and the bar itself was packed. There was some sports game playing, but it wouldn’t be on long once the live band would start. There were people playing darts and munching on popcorn.

“Go snag a booth, I’ll get us some beers.”

“Oh, uh…”

“What’s a matter?”

“I don’t really like beer.” He takes his wallet out. “I can grab the drinks, tell me what you want.”

“I want you to go grab us a booth. I’ll get you something other than beer.”

You turn and go up to the bar. You greet the bartender who knows you pretty well. You decide that if Harry didn’t want beer, then you wouldn’t get one either.

“Two long islands.” You grin.

You get your drinks and find Harry at a booth. He stuck out like a sore thumb, he wasn’t hard to find. You place the glasses on the table.

“I’ll grab us some popcorn. We’ll grab some real food later.”

You go up to the popcorn machine and grab a bowl to fill up. You say hello to some people you recognize and head back to the booth.

“What made you decide on a long island ice tea?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Thought it would be fun to just get drunk.” You smile. “What sort of mixed drinks do you usually get?”

“I don’t. I usually just get a scotch or something.”

“Ew.” You grimace and then take a sip of your drink. “This is much more fun.”

“You could have gotten a beer still.”

You toss a piece of popcorn into your mouth and take another sip. Harry takes a sip as well and coughs when he’s done.

“Bit heavy handed.”

“I can get you something else…”

“No, it’s fine.” He smiles. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Sometimes. Some buddies from work brought me here, and I liked it. They have free darts, and live music. The band should be starting soon.”

You were two drinks in, and you both were giggling messes. The band was loud, but fun. You had gotten into a little game of getting popcorn into the other’s mouth. Maybe Harry could let his hair down a little and act like a normal person.

By the time you each were on your third drink, you definitely knew you were drunk, and so did Harry. He was having a great time.

“I’m hungry, are you hungry?!” You had yell over the music.

“Starved!”

“Come on!”

You grab his wrist as you walk out of the place. It’s a bit chilly outside, and without thinking, Harry wraps his arm around your shoulders as you walk. You wrap yours around his waist, and he feels butterflies again. You lead him to a McDonald’s and walk in.

“Two medium big mac meals, please.” You slur as you walk up to the counter.

“I’m paying.” Harry insists.

“Nope, I got it.” You slap your credit card down. “Go fill up our drinks, I’ll wait for the food.”

Harry shuffles over to the drink station and fills the paper cups up with coke. You come over to the table he found and you both dive into the greasy food.

“Mm, I can’t remember the last time I had McDonald’s.” He grunts as he eats the food.

“Right?! It’s like, the perfect drunk food.” You suck down the coke. “I would have gotten us some flurries but the machine’s broken.”

“I have ice cream back at my place…got stuff to make sundaes actually.”

“Are you kidding?!”

“Nope, always keep that stuff around. Never know when you’re gonna need some hot fudge.”

“Well, I know where we’re going next.”

“What about your car? We’re both way too fucked up to drive.”

“It’s called uber.”

“Nonsense, I’ll call my-“

“He’ll be here in two minutes, finish up your fries.” You say, looking at your phone.

“You’re very impulsive.” He chuckles and throws some fries into his mouth.

“Live a little.” You yank him out of the booth and go outside.

You both crawl into the uber, and giggle during the ride. Harry hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. When you get to Harry’s building, he says hello to the doorman, and you just smile and wave. He keeps his hand on the small of your back as he leads you into the elevator. It was a beautiful lobby. You watch, through your foggy eyes, as Harry presses the button for the top floor where all of the pent house suites were. He leads you down a hall and keys into his place. You jaw nearly hits the floor.

“I didn’t know they made apartments this big. It’s like…a house in here!” You walk around. “Is this a staircase?!”

“Yeah, it’s two stories. There’s four bedrooms total. My main guest room is down here, and then upstairs are the rest. Got an office down that way, nice big balcony.”

“What’s a single guy need all this space for?”

“Got family and friends that come to visit. I end up hosting functions quite a bit too. Catered events, and all that.” He grabs your hand to lead you into his massive kitchen. “Can I get you some water?”

“Nope, got any alcohol?”

“You want more to drink?!”

“We’re going to have ice cream right? How about some kalua?”

“You know, I do have some. I could put it into some shot glasses.”

“Works for me.” You smile.

Harry get everything out for the sundaes. His kitchen looked like it belonged in a restaurant, but it made sense since he did say he had catered events. If he had cooks come they’d need state of the art equipment. He runs the scoop under some warm water, rolls up one of his sleeves and scoops the ice cream into two bowls. Your eyes widen as you see the veins in his hand and forearm peek out. He adds the warmed up fudge, sprinkles some nuts, and then adds some whip cream.

“Why do you have all this stuff?” You ask as you make up the shots.

“We had an ice cream social here a week or so ago. I like having themed parties.” He bites into his ice cream and moans. “I hate throwing out leftovers.”

“This fudge is really rich.” You lick your lips after taking a bite.

“Shoulda made milk shakes with this.” He takes his shot of kalua and so do you.

“Next time.” You spoon my ice cream into your mouth.

“Next time, eh?”

“Sure.” You smile. “I’m having a good time.”

“Better than last time?”

“Harry.” You put your bowl down and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll admit, I was pretty skeptical, but when you let your hair down, you’re a lot of fun.”

“So…you didn’t have any fun last time?”

“It’s not that I didn’t.” You say, shoveling more ice cream into your mouth. “But I feel like I got to know you better tonight.” You hop up on his counter and sit there comfortably as you finish your ice cream. A little bit of hot fudge lingers on the corner of your mouth.

“You have a little, uh…” He taps the corner of his mouth to show you. He moves to stand between your legs and you look up at him.

“Did I get it?”

“Not exactly.” He cups your cheeks and leans in. You can feel his breath on you. He runs his thumb over the spot. “Got it.” He sucks his thumb into his mouth and smirks at you.

Just as he’s about to turn to grab the bowls you grab at the collar of his shirt, and pull him to you, crashing your lips to his. He sinks into it, only for a second before backing away. He presses his forehead to yours.

“What’s wrong?” You breathe.

“I don’t want this to happen like this.”

“Like what?”

He steps away and looks at you.

“We’re both pretty out of sorts, Y/N.”

“It was just a kiss…”

“But it could lead to more, and I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

“Are you really going to tell me you’ve never hooked up drunk?”

“I have.”

“So…I’m sorry, I’m just really confused.” You hop down so you can stand on your feet.

“Y/N.” He cups your cheeks so you’ll look at him. “I want to be completely sober so I can fully enjoy you.”

“You’re…such a weirdo, Harry. Who says shit like that?” You step away from him.

“You know, most people find me charming.”

“Well, then I guess I’m not most people.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “Ugh, I didn’t mean for that to sound like I’m not like other girls, that would be a weird thing to say. I feel like you say things you think I’d wanna hear.”

“No, I really feel that way. I don’t want…look, if we decided to do it, I’d wanna remember it, that’s all I was trying to say.”

“So just say it like that!” You start laughing. “That I can understand.”

“I don’t know what to say around you. It’s like everything I do is wrong.”

“Not true.” You grab the whip cream can and spray some into your mouth. “You make a mean sundae.”

“Don’t hog it.” He opens his mouth and you spray some whip cream into his mouth. You both giggle.

“So…you don’t even want to keep kissing?”

“I do, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“What do you wanna do instead? My car’s all the way back at the bar, I’m way too fucked to drive…”

“You could stay here if you want. I could give you some pj’s and-“

“No, I’d rather sleep in my own bed.”

“I could call my driver.”

“This late?!”

“He’s on call.” Harry takes out his phone and sends a text. “It’s his job.”

“You’ll come for the ride?”

“Of course!” He smiles. “I have a question for you…”

“Alright.”

“Did you get the flowers I sent you earlier this week?”

“I did.” You move some hair from your face. “I’m sure you meant well, but you shouldn’t do that while I’m working again.”

“Why?” He frowns.

“It was embarrassing. Some of the guys gave me shit for it. Just…if you do it again, I mean, I like getting flowers, just have them sent to my apartment. I don’t need gifts at work. I didn’t even know where to put them.”

“So, we’re definitely seeing each other again?”

“I’d like to.” You smile.

“Great.” He smiles back. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Do you want me to have someone fired? Cause I can do that.”

“No.” You laugh. “But thanks.”

Harry leads you down to the car and you both get in the back seat. You sit really close to him. You were incredibly riled up and horny. It was the alcohol, but you were sort of disappointed that you wouldn’t be getting laid, and it sort of turned you on that Harry was being such a gentleman. You look up at him.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He looks down at you.

You move his arm to put it around you, and you look up at him with big eyes. He sighs and leans in to kiss you. His lips were so soft, and he still tasted like the hot fudge. Your hands slide up to his hair and tug on his curls. You just wanted his tongue in your mouth, but he was being so timid. His other hand goes down to your thigh, and he squeezes it, his thumb digging in to your inner thigh. You whimper slightly and then he lets go of you. The car comes to a stop, and your door is opened by the driver. Harry gets out to walk you up to your door.

“I’m going to be out of town for the next ten days.” He says, tucking some hair behind your ear. “But when I get back, I’d love to see you again.”

“Me too.”

“Good.” He gives you one last kiss before getting back into the car. He makes sure you’re inside the building before he lets the driver go. He presses the button for the partition to go down. “Charlie, I had my doubts, I really did, but she likes me, mate.”

“That’s great, sir. I’m glad she agreed to see you again.”

“Me too. She’s so…different! She’s sort of blunt too. I like that. I feel like women always just like me for my money, but she could care less! This could really be something, I can feel it.”

You told Stacey all about your date with Harry, and how good of a kisser he was. You weren’t sure how’d you last the next ten days without his lips on yours again, but you’d find ways to manage. Work was a great distraction. However, your friends continued to shit on you. One of them snuck a magazine that had Harry on the cover into your toolbox.

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes as they laugh. “What’s so funny that he likes me?”

“It’s not funny, think they’re just jealous.” Frank smirks and looks at the magazine. “It’s just odd that you’re into him.”

“He’s not exactly the type of guy I’d usually be interested in, but he means well. He’s sweet…in his own weird way. He’s quirky. I took him to that bar we’ve been to on Friday, we had a great time.”

“Look at you, trying something for a second time. When do you see him next?”

“I don’t know. He’s out of town for a couple of weeks.”

“Doing what?”

“How the fuck should I know? I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“It’s none of my business. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but he is the guy you’re seeing.”

“I’ve been on two dates with him, nothing’s set in stone.” Your morning coffee break ends you sigh. “Great, time to go into this stupid basement.” You put your hardhat on and a mask and head in with Frank.

On Thursday evening, you were just hanging out, watching TV after a long day of work. Your phone goes off and you see it’s a call from Harry.

“Hello?”

“Hi, beautiful!”

You’re sitting there with your hair up in a messy bun, pimple patches on your blemishes, and a raggedy t-shirt with stains all over it. You roll your eyes.

“What’s up?”

“Well, I finally got a free moment, and I wanted to call you. Are you busy? Should be about eight o’clock, right?”

“Yeah it is…where are you?”

“I’m in London.”

You think for a moment and you gasp.

“Harry, it’s like two in the morning over there!”

“Like I said, I finally got a free moment. I’m just getting into my flat, getting cozy.”

“What did you go to London for?”

“Business of course…and to see some family. Killing two birds with one stone.”

“Do you travel a lot?”

“Sometimes. There were some buildings I wanted to look at out here.”

“How come you didn’t bring Stacey?”

“She doesn’t always need to travel with me. We’ve connected, don’t worry. I’m not one of those helpless idiots who can’t survive without their assistant. Besides, need her there to hold down the fort.” You hear some shuffling and then the creaking of a bed, and a big sigh from him.

“So…what kept you out so late?”

“Business.”

“What Business could you possibly need to conduct at two in the morning?”

“Things operate differently over here. People like to go out late. I actually left early because I was tired.”

“That’s wild.”

“Very.” He chuckles. “What are you up to?”

“I was just watching some TV before I hit the sack.”

“Anything good on?”

“Not really.” You laugh and turn the TV off. “Kinda like hearing your voice.” You slap your forehead because you literally don’t know what possessed you to say that.

“Like hearing yours too. Sorry I haven’t been able to text much.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, really. I wouldn’t want you to think I wasn’t interested or something.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good, because I’m still really interested.”

“When do you come back?”

“Monday evening, then it’s back to the office Tuesday.”

“You never stop, do you…”

“It’s hard not to, but I like what I do.”

“I would hope so.”

“How’s your week been?”

“You should get some sleep.”

“Can’t, too awake now. Tell me how your week was, how’s the building coming along?”

“I’ve been in a dimly lit crawl space in the basement feeding wires all week. Tomorrow’s the last day of doing that. Then next week my group of people will move up to the regular basement, and then after that we’ll move on to the lobby. Other people are working on the outside as well, and then once all that’s done we’ll be able to move on to the individual offices inside.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.”

“Mhm, but it’s honest work. I can take a step back at the end of the day and see what I’ve done. I like that.”

“You’re a visual person, then.”

“I am.”

“So am I.”

“Nice to know we have one thing in common.”

“We have other things in common.” He sounds offended.

“Like what?” You giggle and sit with your knees hugged to your chest. His voice over the phone was oddly soothing to you.

“Well…I’d say we both enjoy a good joke. We both like food, although, I have to say, my stomach was pretty angry with me after I had that bic mac.”

You burst out laughing.

“So was mine. It’s always good going in.”

“Mhm, and we like each other.”

“Oh, we do?” You ask sarcastically. “Teasing. I like you.”

“You didn’t at first though.”

“You didn’t make a great impression by calling me darling in your office.”

“If I knew how derogatory it was going to come off, I never would have said it. It’s just…part of my vocabulary.”

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“When I get back, I’d love to see you again. Maybe we could have lunch or something.”

“On my jobsite? I don’t think so.”

“We could go out for dinner, then? I mean, I’ll be coming by the site next week to check out the progress.”

“Please, don’t even acknowledge me if you see me. I want things to be professional.”

“Reputation to uphold?”

“Sort of. I have a couple good friends, but not all of the guys are so accepting of women on the job. I don’t want any of them thinking I’m getting special treatment or anything because I know you. Someone put a magazine that had you on the cover in my tool box as a prank.”

“I’m sorry…I don’t really know what the big deal is though.”

“It’s like I’m in elementary school and everyone found out about my cruck. Boys never really grow up, so I’ve come to find out.”

“Can’t say I can argue with that. We’re an immature lot.” He chuckles and then yawns.

“You should really go to sleep.”

“But I like talking to you.”

“You can call me this weekend.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight…sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You sigh as you hang up. Your stomach felt weird. Did you have butterflies? You never had butterflies. Harry was definitely growing on you.

Wednesday morning, Harry came to the jobsite to check things out. He stayed in the trailer with the foreman with quite some time before going inside the building. He didn’t see you, and he was sort of sad about it. He hears a whistling noise and sees a bunch of people filing out and taking their hard hats off.

“Morning coffee break.” The foreman explains. Harry nods and squints at everyone. His eyes widen when he spots you.

He watches as you grab your thermos and pour your coffee into the little cap that works as a cup. He desperately wants to go over and say hi, but he also wanted to respect what you asked of him.

“Hey, Y/N, isn’t that your boyfriend?” One of the guys says and makes kissy noises. “Go say hi, give him a big wet one for us. Show him some appreciation for giving the union so much work.”

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’ve been out two times.”

“That guy’s dated models, what’s so great about you?”

“Bob.” Frank says, warningly. “Don’t be a prick.”

Harry watches as the group laughs, and Frank puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Everything alright over there?” He asks the foreman.

“Yeah, they’re just giving her a tough time. They seem to think you’re her boyfriend.”

“And what if I was? Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No, sir, of course not…it’s just…up until a couple weeks ago everyone thought she was gay, or at least, just not into dudes.”

“Why? Because she didn’t try to fuck one of the other guys? She’s a beautiful woman, and-“ Harry stops himself. He can feel his blood boiling. He wasn’t your boyfriend, and he knew that, but he still wanted to defend you.

“What’s it like fucking a dude with so much money? Surprised you haven’t quit yet to become his live in lady.”

“Bob, I’m about two seconds away from ripping your balls off.”

“Not a very nice thing to say.”

“You’re being a dick, Bob.” Frank says. “Why do you wanna know what it’s like to fuck Mr. Styles for? You like him too?” He smirks.

“Frank.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What’s happening here, you’re going to turn this around to make some gay joke to defend me? Not cool. You all need to grow the fuck up.” You finish your coffee, put your hardhat back on and storm off.

Harry watches the scene and goes over to the group of men since you now left.

“Everything alright over here?” He asks them. The foreman was shaking behind him.

“Just fine, sir.” Bob says.

“Are we sure? Because that worker seemed a bit upset. I hope you’re all working as a team, I hate to see people not being team players. It makes getting a job done well very difficult.”

“The guys have been ragging on her because of you.” Frank says. “Apparently they think it’s funny that you’ve been out a couple of times.” He turns to all of them. “I think you all forget that she works with us and has fun just like the rest of us, but she’s still a woman. She’s allowed to go out on dates with people not like us. Just because she doesn’t want any of you doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve to find someone.”

Frank huffs and storms off himself. Harry was impressed by him.

“I don’t have much to add to that other than that her personal life is just that, personal. Please remember that, and keep things professional. Then, none of his will have a problem.” He says sternly and walks away. The foremen glares at all of them and follows Harry.

He just wanted to make sure you were okay. He saw you inside, back to work, as if nothing had happened. Frank was holding the latter you were on. He still wanted to respect what you had asked, so he turns and walks back out of the building.

Stacey had her phone out when Harry got back to the office. She was texting furiously with someone. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had a frown on her face.

“Everything alright, love?” Harry asks, concerned.

“With me, yeah.” She looks up at him and smiles. “I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“For not stepping in to defend her. She’s good at taking care of herself.”

“So that’s who you’re texting?”

“Mhm. I’m gonna meet her after work for some drinks. When do you see her next?”

“Friday.”

“Good, that’ll be nice.”

“So I shouldn’t show up while you’re having drinks?”

“No! She needs girl time. You mean well, but keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t suffocate her.”

“It was so hard to not run over to her earlier. We chatted a bit over the phone while I was gone. It was so nice.” He sighs and leans against her desk.

“You’re a romantic, Harry, and I love that about you. But…Y/N…well, she prefers to save that for the movies.”

Harry’s eyes widen and he gasps.

“I just figured out what I’m gonna take her to do Friday!” He hugs Stacey quick. “Thanks, Stace!” He rushes into his office and closes the door.

By the time Friday rolled around, you were exhausted. You really didn’t want to do anything crazy, and Harry assured you that you’d just be hanging out at his place which put you at ease. His car comes for you around seven. You come out in a pair of jeans, a nice shirt, and your hair down. He gets out and practically runs over to you. He takes you in his arms and kisses you.

“Missed you.” He says against your lips before kissing you again.

“I guess I missed you too.” You smile. “Thanks for being so cool at the site the other day.”

“No worries, I just hope those guys have cooled it.”

“They have.”

“Good.” He smiles and leads you into the car.

“One of these days I’m going to see what you look like behind the wheel.”

“That just means you’ll have to come out to my beach house.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible. It’s getting warmer out by the day.”

“I hope you’re hungry, I’ve got something good prepared.”

“Did you cook?”

“God, no. I’d burn the house down if I made something other than a frozen pizza.” He chuckles. “No, I had someone come and make everything I wanted.” You make a face at him. “Oh, stop it. You’ll be thankful once you see it, trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Once you’re at Harry’s place, he leads you inside. You take note on how he always says hi to all of the workers. You liked that he was so kind to them. When he gets you inside your jaw drops. There was a popcorn machine full of popcorn, hot dogs on a rotisserie, and all of the fixings on a table next to it, a nacho station, and homemade candies and chocolates.

“So, this is, like, the concessions area, and then down the hall is my home theater. Thought I’d bring the movies to us. Do you like it?”

“This is so…extravagant.” You walk up to where all of the sweets are.

“I had my chef make up those chocolate covered cookie dough bites, I thought you might like them.”

“I love those…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He kisses you cheek. “Well, let’s make up what we want and then we can go find our seats.” He chuckles at his own joke and it makes you giggle.

You each make up a tray of snacks, and head down the hall. You gasp when you see a movie poster on the wall outside of the door.

“Pretty Woman?”

“I remember you mentioning it on our first date. Would you like to watch it?”

“Sure!”

You walk inside the room. He wasn’t kidding, it really was a home theater. Three rows of luxurious recliner seats, a large screen and a projector in the back.

“Where would you like to sit?”

“Middle row?”

“Works for me.” He smiles and follows you up. He sets his food down on the chair next to him and takes his phone out. “There’s an app linked to the projector so I can just it play from here and even dim the lights.”

“Pretty cool.”

“Very cool. Makes things so much easier.”

The lights dim, and previews start playing.

“Previews from when the film first came out, makes it more immersive.”

“Nice touch.” You saw, biting into your hot dog. “Oh, wow. This is delicious.”

“All freshly made with a natural casing. Still not the best for you, but at least it’s made with good ingredients.”

You sip on your soda and toss some popcorn into your mouth as well. Once you both finish up some of the cookie dough bites, you set your trays aside, recline the chairs, and get comfortable. Harry lifts the armrest between you and puts his arm around you.

“This alright?”

“Mhm.” You cozy up to him and sigh as you watch the film.

Even though you thought he was flashing his cash again, you knew he wasn’t doing it for bad reasons. He wanted to give you a nice evening, and this was how he knew to do it. You appreciated him putting all this effort in just for you. It made you rethink your first date completely. He was just trying to show you a good time, and you felt bad for being sort of rude. You’re happy you gave him another chance.

You sling your arm over his lower stomach, and put one of your ankles over his. His cologne smelled so good, you just wanted to have him closer to you. Harry was swooning. He hadn’t felt this happy in so long. His hand strokes your arm and shoulder mindlessly as the movie goes on. You both laugh and giggle at the funnier parts. When it gets to the part of the film where Vivian goes down to where Edward is playing the piano, and she sits on top of it and they start having sex.

You bite your bottom lip and look up at Harry whose eyes are glues to the screen, but you could feel his heart beating rapidly. He notices you looking up at him and he looks down at you with a slight smile. You reach one of your hands up to the back of his neck to pull him down to you. His lips brush over yours, and then you both sink into it. You tug him by the collar of his shirt so he’s hovering over you on the large seats. You wrap your legs around his waist to have him as close as possible. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip and he opens up for you. You both groan into the open mouthed kiss, happy to feel the other’s tongue.

He kisses down your jaw and makes his way to your neck. Your hips buck up towards his when he starts to suck on your skin. You crane your neck to give him more access, and you practically push his head further into you. You whimper and bite your bottom lip as your hips move up towards his again. He sits up and pulls you on top of him so you can straddle him. Your lips find his again as you roll your hips down on his growing bulge. You tug at his hair as you suck on his bottom lip. His hands were press on your back to keep you close.

“Y/N?” He breathes.

“Mm?” You mumble as you kiss on his neck.

“Do you wanna take a break so we can finish the movie?”

“What, why?” You pout with your now swollen lips.

“Well, it’s just, that scene where Jason Alexander tries to…um…you know, is coming up and I’d feel weird making out while that happens.”

“Oh.” You chuckle and move off of him. “Makes sense.” He puts his arm back around you as you both catch your breaths.

Eventually the movie ends and the lights come back on. You have to blink a few times to get used to it. You and Harry grab your trays and go out the kitchen to clean everything up.

“Did you enjoy that?” He asks as he loads up the dishwasher.

“Yeah! I mean, I love that movie, and it was cool to watch it privately like that.”

“That room used to be another bedroom, I had it renovated shortly after I moved in. I’m glad I did. It got difficult to go out once the paparazzi started following my every move. Plus, it’s fun for parties. My family loves it when they come to visit.” He dries his hands on a towel and tosses it on a counter.

“Do they still follow you around?”

“Not as much anymore, thank god. At least, not to see who I’m dating. Sometimes after I do an interview for a magazine they follow me to see if I’m going out to get drunk or something.” He scoffs and shakes his head.

“You end up on a lot of thirty under thirty type magazines.”

“Yeah…I’ve done those, made it onto Forbes too, that was pretty cool. Then in a couple of years when I do turn thirty, it’ll be forty under forty. It never ends.” He shakes his head.

“How’d you end up dating some Italian model?”

He steps closer to you and tucks some hair behind your ear.

“Is that something you really wanna talk about?” He asks, just above a whisper as he starts to kiss on your neck again.

“No.” You gasp as his hands squeeze your hips. “Can we go to your bedroom?” You hear him sigh against you and he leans back against the counter.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Not ready for that yet?”

“You make zero sense!”

It’s true. Harry wasn’t making much sense. He was used to moving too fast with women, and it always went wrong. He really liked you, and he didn’t want it blowing up in his face.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” He squeezes your hand. “I just think we should go out on a few more dates before we get to know each other like that…don’t you?”

“No, I’d like you to take me to your room and fuck me.” You cross your arms.

“Y/N.” He chuckles. “I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”

You knew he was right. You felt his fully erect dick when you were grinding on him earlier.

“I just want us on the same page, make sure we both want the same things before diving into all that.”

“God, of course you’re, like, a good person.” You roll your eyes. “Fine, let’s go out a few more times.”

“Great.” He smiles. “I want you to know, too, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

“Neither am I.”

“And you won’t start, right?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs.

“Harry, I barely have the time to juggle one guy, I don’t think I’d have the energy to entertain more than one.” You laugh.

“Alright.” He blushes slightly. You step closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m surprised there isn’t a line of women knocking at your door.”

“Oh, there is, I just ignore it.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Kidding.”

“Mhm.”

You both smile and stand there kissing for a little while. Harry makes sure you get home, giving you a ride in his car. Just like last time, you spent most of the ride making out in the back seat. You really didn’t want to leave, but it was late and you needed to sleep. You say goodnight to each other, and he makes sure you’re inside before letting Charlie drive away.

“Mr. Styles, don’t forget you’ve got that gala this weekend.” Stacey says to him Monday morning.

“Shit, I’ve completely forgot about that.” He sighs. “Do I have to go?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I saw the guest list and…Carina’s going to be there.”

“Of course she is!” He groans and slumps into his chair. “Fuck, and I don’t have a date.”

“You could ask Y/N.”

“Do you think that’s something she’d wanna go to? She’d need a ball gown and-“

“She’s an electrician, but she’s still a woman. She has a lot of pretty clothes. I actually borrow a lot from her when I have events to go to.”

“She’s having me over for dinner tonight…I suppose I could ask her then.”

“Wait, she’s having you over?!”

“Yeah…” He raises an eyebrow of confusion at her.

“Wow.” She smirks. “She must really like you. She never invites guys over.” She winks at him and leaves his office.

After work, Harry has Charlie drive him over to your place. He rings your buzzer and you let him up. Your door was open a crack for him already, so he goes tight in, loosening his tie.

“Hi, Harry!” You smile.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you still had all your work clothes on, but your flannel was unbuttoned, revealing your white tank top and plenty of cleavage. You go over to him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Not as big as your place, but it has what I need.”

“It’s lovely. One bedroom?”

“Mhm, and two bathrooms.” You say proudly. “I hope you like food from the crockpot. I set up some chili this morning before I left.”

“Chili sounds amazing, I love spicy food.” He takes his suit jacket off and throws on your couch.

“Great.” You smile and grab some sour cream and cheese from your fridge. You grab a couple of bowls and some spoons and you both serve yourselves. You both sit down at the small table you have in your kitchen.

“This is delicious, thank you.” He smiles.

“Oh, I’m so glad you like it.”

“I’m happy we could get together tonight.”

“Me too.” You smile.

You had fully warmed up to Harry at this point. You’d been seeing each other for a few weeks, and you had let many walls down. You liked him, you really liked him. You two also hadn’t done more than make out, and it was absolutely killing you.

“Do you have plans Saturday evening?”

“I don’t believe so, why? Another movie night?” You ask sort of excitedly and he chuckles.

“No, I wish. I have this charity gala to go to that I actually forgot all about until Stacey reminded me this morning. I’d love for you to join me.”

“Oh…a little fancier than I thought, but, sure.” You shrug. “I could do that. I’ll have to call my hairdresser to see if she can squeeze me in, I’m assuming I’ll probably want my hair done?”

“Only if you feel comfortable…”

“Will I need a gown?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I have a couple to choose from in my closet. Do you know what suit you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” He takes his phone out to show you. It was pink with a design on the front. It was beautiful.

“Hm, I think I have a green dress that would look good with this. Pink and green look so nice together.” You use your napkin to wipe your mouth and stand up. “Come on.” You nod towards the hallway.

“Come on what?”

“I wanna show you the gown I have.”

“Oh, alright.”

He follows you into your room, but he stands in the doorway as you go into your closet. It was much smaller than his, but he liked the way you decorated. You utilized a lot of space. You can always tell when a tradesperson lives somewhere because everything always looked really nice. Here were built in shelves and storage units.

“You make those?”

“Mhm, and I made this closet twice as big.” You find the gown you’re thinking of and hold it up in front of your body to show him. “What do you think? Will it do the trick?”

“It’s beautiful, Y/N. Why do you have it?”

“When I was younger I used to participate in pageants. The scholarships were super helpful for college. Anyways, past winners get invited back pretty often and you’re supposed to dress really nice when you go, so I have a couple of formal gowns for when I get those calls.”

“I never would have taken you for a pageant girl.”

“I’m not really…but I needed the money, and I figured out how to play the game. I came in first twice in two different competitions. However, the girls I participated with weren’t very nice, so I wasn’t exactly sad when I got too old for it.” You hang the dress back up. “Don’t worry, I’ll be able to look the part with all your fancy friends.” You smirk and walk out of your room. You sit on your couch and he sits next to you.

“A lot of them aren’t really friends. Acquaintances really. Um, Stacey showed me the guest list today and my ex is apparently going to be there.”

“The model?”

“Yeah.”

“Wonderful.” You scoff. “So are we finally going to have the conversation?”

“What do you mean?”

“She was your last relationship right? Tell me what happened.”

“Not much to tell. We met at a dinner party for a mutual friend. We met in London, actually, but we both had places here in the city, so we kept seeing each other. I didn’t realize how well known she was, so that’s when the paparazzi started. We were together almost a year before it just got to be too much. She wanted me to basically give it all up for her so I could travel with her, but I thought it was selfish of her to ask me to do that, so we broke up.”

“Did you love her?”

“I did.” He says bluntly. “But it wasn’t the type of love I wanted. I don’t have any feelings for her whatsoever, I want you to know that.” He places his hand on your knee. “I just know she’s going to come over to me and look you up and down, and she’s going to be really snotty. She’s…well, she’s a bitch, to put it simply.”

“And you dated her for a year because?”

“Vanity. On paper, we were the perfect match, but I realized it felt like I wasn’t living my own life anymore. I’m much happier now.” He gives your knee a squeeze.

“Alright, well, I’m sure we’ll have a good time. Is it a sit down dinner?”

“It is.”

“Open bar?”

“Yup.”

“Dancing?”

“A little.”

“Sounds like a good time to me.” You smile.

“You’re amazing, thank you.” He leans to kiss you and that was that.

The day of the gala, your hairdresser was able to squeeze you in for an updo. You showed her the dress you’d be wearing, so she gave you an elegant bun. You had your nails done as well. You were glad you did because you had a nasty bruise on your thumb. That’ll be the last time you use a regular hammer and not just a nail gun.

When you get home you take out an old pearl necklace that was your great-grandmother’s that would go perfectly with the green dress. It was strapless and fit to your form, with a nice slit starting at one of your thighs. You found a pair of heels that went perfectly with it, and a white shall. You apply your makeup, and take a step back to take yourself in. You looked perfect. You take a selfie to send to Stacey.

Stacey: omfg!!! You’re gonna give Carina a run for her money, have fun!

You smile at the text and find your clutch that goes with the dress. Harry picks you up around seven. You gasp when you see a limo, and not just the regular car he usually picks you up in.

“All this for the two of us?” You ask as he gets out of the car. His suit looked so good. His jaw drops when he sees you.

“You look stunning, Y/N.” He gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, and help you into the limo. “The limo’s just to keep up appearances. We’re essentially walking down a red carpet into the building. Know how to pose?”

“Oh, I can give face when I need to.” You smirk. “It was fun getting all dressed up since I don’t get to often.”

“I like your flannels too, I hope you know how sexy you look in your work clothes.”

Your cheeks heat up. Harry didn’t really talk like that to you often.

“I’ll have to wear my tool belt for you sometime…just my tool belt.” You whisper in his ear and then face forward. You send a shiver up his spine. He couldn’t wait for that.

When you pull up to the event, Harry gets out first. Cameras start flashing, and he extends his hand out to you. You stand up and nearly feel blinded, but you get through it. You walk with him, his hand on the small of your back. You’d stop occasionally to be photographed. There were reports asking Harry what your name was and other questions, but he didn’t answer a single one. Once you were inside you took a deep breath.

“You did amazing, thank you.”

“No problem. How come they wanted to know who I was?”

“So they can print some story about us. I don’t wanna give up your privacy, so my lips are staying sealed for now.”

You’re brought into a large ball room. There were silent auction items all around the perimeter that Harry would need to put some money down for.

“I hate these things. I’d be happy to just donate without having to get anything in return, you know?”

You walk around with him to look at the items.

“How come you’re not writing anything down?”

“I’m waiting for other people so I can put a larger amount down. They deduct the value of the item from the actual donation, so I wanna make sure enough money gets put down.”

“That’s…really philanthropic of you, Harry.”

“All the proceeds tonight go to inner city schools to get them new computers and other technology they’re in desperate need of.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever meet Harry’s mother, but you hoped you would just so you could thank her for raising such a kind man. You both mingle with a few people, and eventually Harry puts his bids down for a few different items.

“If I win I’ll just donate this shit. I don’t need anything else.” He shrugs.

Waiters come around with h'orderves and drinks. You snatch a flute of champagne and a shrimp puff.

“Good, babe?” He smiles at you as you lick your lips.

“Very.” You giggle.

His smile fades when he sees Carina from across the room. She had a lovely blue gown on, and some man’s arm was snaked around her waist. She sees Harry and she sends him a small wave. He clutches your hip a little tighter. You look up at him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, uh, wanna find our table?”

“Sure.”

You find your table and you both take your seat. You chat with the woman sitting next to you, and other people begin finding their seats. As the event gets started, waiters come around with food. Someone on a stage comes out and announces who has won what items. People clap. Harry won a couple of the items he bid on. He stands as people clap, and you clap as well. You kiss him on the cheek as he sits back down. Once dinner is through, some people start going out to the dance floor, and others stand around to mingle.

“Well if it isn’t the CEO himself.” Harry turns around the second he hears the accent. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hi, Carina.”

She takes him in for a gentle hug, and kisses him on both cheeks. You want to gag, but you know it’s just a cultural thing.

“And who might this be?” She looks you up and down.

“I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand and she shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you.” She smiles and looks at Harry. “I’m surprised to see you here with someone.”

“Could say the same to you.” He nods over to the man she came with. He was over talking with some other people.

“Oh, that’s Richard. He’s lovely. We met a few months back. He works remotely so he’s able to travel with me. It’s perfect.”

“Good for you.”

“What do you do?” She asks you.

“I’m a union electrician.” You say with a bright smile. “I got a degree in Mathematics and then I joined the trades world.”

“Oh my…I never would have guessed.” She smiles nervously. “Harry, may I borrow you for just a moment? Andrew is here too, and he misses you so much.”

“Um…sure.” He looks at you.

“Go ahead, I need to use the ladies room as it is.”

He watches you walk away and turns back to Carina.

“Andrew’s not here.” Harry says to her.

“I know, I just said that so we could chat. She’s not for you, and you know it.”

“What makes you think you have the right to say that to me?”

“Harry, you can’t be with some blue collar worker.”

“And why not?” He scoffs. “I’ll have you know she’s lovely and elegant, but she’s also not afraid to go to McDonald’s and stuff her face. In fact, she’s not afraid of food at all.”

“I’m on a very strict diet and you know it.” She huffs.

“Why don’t you worry about yourself and Richard?”

Harry turns on his heel and walks towards the restrooms. You were just coming out when you see him waiting.

“Are you alright?” You ask him.

“Yeah, feel like having a dance?”

“Definitely.”

You take his hand as he leads you back into the ballroom and onto the dance floor. The band was only playing slower songs, but that was just fine. Harry was really light on his feet. It made you smile as he led you around.

“You about ready to get out of here?” He whispers in your ear.

“Mhm.”

He smiles at you and leads you out. He says goodbye to a few people, and gets you outside. There were still reporters, but he gets you into the limo quickly.

“So…your ex…was she civil with you?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about.” He throws his arm around you and kisses your hairline. “Okay to come back to mine?”

“Definitely.”

He gets you up into his place and gets you a glass of water.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You tell him.

“Me too, you definitely made it more fun. Those things can be so dreadful.”

“I just look at it as a free dinner.” You laugh.

“Oh, is that all it takes with you?” He smirks.

“Pretty much. I’ll go to a party like that with you anytime.”

“Good to know.” He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him. Yours go around his neck and you start kissing. You giggle when you let go of him and see your red lipstick all over his mouth.

“Sorry.” You try to rub it off with your thumb.

“No worries.” He chuckles. “Would you like to come upstairs?”

“I would.” You take your heels off, and follow him up.

He leads you into his large bedroom. You gaze at the beautiful furniture.

“I’ve got a walk in closet too.” He says. “You’d probably appreciate the craftsmanship.”

He opens the door for you and you step inside.

“It’s beautiful. I love built ins. Whoever did this did a great job.”

“I only hire the best, but you knew that.” You grip at his suit jacket and push him up against the doorframe of the closet. You slot your lips over his and he welcomes it.

“I want you, Harry.” You say against his lips.

“I want you too.” He kisses on your neck and bites down on your shoulder.

He walks you over to his bed until your legs his the frame. He keeps you steads as his hands find the zipper on the back of dress. You push his suit jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. He unzips your dress, but holds it up.

“Are you okay with all this?” He asks.

“God, yes.”

Your dress falls to the ground and pools at your feet. Your fingers work to unbutton his shirt. His eyes widen as he looks at the underwear set you’re wearing. You were wearing a strapless black bra with a black lace thong to match. Of course you still needed to wear a bra, your breasts were too large to without. You get his shirt off and you take a step back to admire his tattoos.

“I didn’t know you had so many.” Your hands trace off the ones on his collar bones, his torso, and his hips. “Even your arms.”

‘Got a few on my legs too.” He loves the way your hands felt on his body.

“I thought you just had the cross and the anchor. These are so cool.”

“Thanks.”

Your hands move to his belt buckle and get it undone, his pants drop to the floor moments later. You lick your lips when you see his tight boxers.

“Fuck, Harry, I want you so badly.”

You push him down on the bed and straddle him. His hands go to your hips, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He reaches up to unhook your bra, and tosses it to the floor. You switch positions so you’re lying on your back. He caresses your breasts and kisses on each of them. He puts his face between them and just enjoys the way your skin feels on him. You start giggling and he looks up at you.

“Breast man, huh?”

“Sorry, was that weird? You just have such a beautiful body.”

“Not weird at all, they’re yours to play with.” You grin.

“Oh, I like the sound of that a lot.”

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks harshly. You gasp as your hips buck up towards him. He does the same thing to the other before kissing down your body. His hands tug your thong below your hips.

“Can I take this off?”

“Please.”

You lift your hips to help him. He looks down at you and then up to your eyes.

“Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Make you feel good.”

“Sure, but I wanna hear you say what exactly is going to make me feel good.”

His eyes darken as he looks at you.

“Y/N, I’m going to lick into your cunt until you’re screaming that you can’t take it anymore.”

Your mouth falls open as he parts your legs. He kisses from your knee to your inner thigh. Sucking on where he pleases. He uses his forearm to hold your hips down when he finally gets his tongue on you. He licks a flat stripe from your center up to your clit. You clutch at the soft blankets on his bed as you watch him. He makes eye contact with you when he starts to suck on your clit.

“Oh my god.” You moan as your head falls back. You feel him smirk against you. You start to tug at his curls when he swirls his tongue around you and then flicks it quickly on the nub. “Christ.” You say through gritted teeth.

His tongue moves back to your center where he licks into you. He groans at the taste of you. His middle and index finger move to rub your clit in circles while he uses his tongue to essentially fuck you. Your body was starting to feel hot all over, and you could feel a familiar knot tightening in your lower stomach. He assumes you’re starting to get close because you were starting to tighten around his tongue. He licks back up to your clit, and plunges his fingers inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out as his fingers work your insides. Your eyes roll into the back of your head when you feel him knuckle deep. “Harry, it’s so good, don’t stop!”

He groans his response as he sucks on your clit again. He curls his fingers up against your front wall where he knew you needed it. He feels you pulsating around him. He could hear you panting and it was music to his ears.

“Shit, oh, fuck, oh my god!” You scream as your orgasm washes over you. He continues to pump his fingers slowly to help you ride it out.

He sits up on his knees and wipes the slick away from his chin with the back of his hand. He licks his lips and smirks at you. You catch your breath and look up at him. You sit up slightly and grab at the band of his boxers.

“Do you want me to-“

“Next time, I really just want to fuck you.”

You bite your lip and nod at him. He takes his boxers off and your eyes grow wide when you see his full length. You spread your legs back apart for him, and he lines himself up.

“Shit, uh…condom.” He backs away from you and rummages through his night table for one.

“I’m on the pill…”

“Found one!” He looks at you. “What did you say?”

“I’m on the pill…if you didn’t feel like using one.” Your cheeks were starting to grow red. “I’m clean. Wouldn’t have let you go down on me if I wasn’t.”

“I’m clean too. So…you don’t want me to use one?”

“Nah, I kind of want you to come inside me if I’m being honest.”

“Jesus.” He grunts and tosses the condom aside. He gets back between your legs and rubs his tip along your slick folds and clit. “You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

He leans down to kiss you as he slowly pushes inside. He swallows you gasp and moan once he bottoms out. You tighten around him involuntarily. He gives you a moment to relax and adjust to him. You hadn’t been stretched out like this since god knows when.

“Go on.” You whisper.

He smiles into your neck as he starts to rock in and out of you. Your arch up into him. Your hands search for a nearby pillow.

“Hold on.” You tell him and lift your hips up, sliding a pillow under you. “Okay.”

“You’re killing me.” He breathes.

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth as his thrusts pick up the pace. You wrap your legs around him and move along with him. Your hands slide down to his ass so your nails can sink into the fleshy area. He bites down on your collar bone as you keep moving along with him. He was used to women just starfishing under him, this was so nice. He felt really connected to you.

“Oh, shit.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Harry.” You moan.

“Gonna come again?”

“Mhm.”

He snakes a hand between the two of you so he can rub your clit, and that pushes you over the edge. Your nails rake up from his ass to his back as you come, making him moan out at the overwhelming feeling of being marked up by you.

“Can I bend you over the bed?”

You moan out your response. He pulls out of you and gets you on your feet, bending you over. He grips your hips and slips back inside you. All you can hear is his skin slapping against yours. You prop yourself up on your elbows and arch your back. He was hitting so fucking deep, and his tip was brushing against your g-spot. One of his hands goes back to your clit while the other grips the back of your neck while he pounds into you.

“Taking it so well, Y/N.” He grunts.

“Feels so good, fuck!”

He watches as your back arches more and sweat slides down your spine.

“I’m, I’m close.” He says.

“Yeah? You wanna come?”

“Yes, fuck.” He moans out and fills you up while you come again with him.

He had you screaming just like he said he would. He hold you close to him for a moment, his chest flush with your back. He kisses your back before pulling out. You clamp your legs together before anything has a chance to make a mess.

“Let me get you a rag.”

“S’okay, I’ll just use the bathroom.” He helps you stand up and you turn to face him. You grab him by the back of his neck to kiss him. “That was really nice.” You giggle.

You waddle to his bathroom while he grabs a fresh pair of boxers. You clean yourself up and come back out.

“Can I give you something to wear?”

“Please.” You smile. You couldn’t stop smiling, really.

He hands you one of his bed shirts. It had his initials embroidered on the chest pocket. He watches as you button it up.

“Comfortable?”

“Very.” You crawl onto the bed with him. You throw a leg over his and rest your head on his chest. He looks down at you and cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss.

“You make me really happy, Y/N.”

“You make me happy too, Harry. I may even let you stay over at my place sometime.” You chuckle.

“I’d like that.” He kisses your forehead. “But only if I’m staying over there as your boyfriend.” He grins.

“I think I’d feel comfortable with that.” You kiss his soft, swollen lips.

“Really? You’re into all this, you’re not just saying that because we had some hot sex?”

“Harry.” You giggle. “The sex was really hot, and I may have had my reservations about you, but we’ve gotten to know each other well, I’d like to be your girlfriend. Let’s make it official.”

“I have to warn you, I’m gonna want to spoil you rotten. You may get annoyed with me.”

“You can’t buy my affection, just remember that.”

“I know, I just can’t help wanting to just give you everything you want.”

“You’re what I want. I don’t care about all this.” You gesture to his extravagant bedroom.

“I know you don’t, I think that’s why I like you so much. You could care less!” He laughs. “It’s amazing. You’re totally not shallow. It’s refreshing.” He settles down further into the bed and you kiss him a few times on the cheek.

“I get busy a lot. When there’s over time I take it. I may have to break dates once in a while.”

“Same here.”

“If you’re traveling, I won’t be able to just drop everything to go with you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. I like that you work hard and that you actually want to work. You have an honest job, and I really admire that.”

“Thanks.” You kiss on his chest. He liked that you were a kisser. Harry loved being loved on. “However, if you want to plan a trip to that beach house of yours…I certainly could put in for some vacation time.”

“You’d love it out there. It’s nice and private, we’d have our own beach. I have a boat too with a kitchen and bedroom below deck. It’s great.”

“This will definitely take some getting used to.” You laugh. “I’ll have to keep bringing you to dive bars so to knock you down a peg.” You joke.

“Whatever you need to do.” He smirks.

“I’m also going to teach you how to cook. We don’t need to have a catered meal every time we hang out here.”

“That seems fair. Could we start with that chili you made? It was so fucking good.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

You sigh happily and snuggle into his chest as he holds you. You both slept really well that night. You weren’t sure what exactly being a girlfriend to a CEO would entail, but as long as the both of you stayed on the same page about your values, you saw this relationship lasting for a very long time.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles slow burn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #ceo!Harry #harry styles au #pls tag if you reblog #feedback is always appreciated!!

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lovinkiri · 4 years ago

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Bone Breaker

Tenya Iida x Reader

Warning: Injury (broken bone).

Description: Reader gets hurt and worries long time crush, Tenya Iida. She can't spend Valentines with Tenya but he makes her feel special nonetheless.

Tagging: @coleluuviida

Author's Thoughts: I'm sorry if it's not very great! I finished it today to fit the theme and to get this to everyone on Valentines! I hope you have a great day! 💞💞💞

You sighed and winced, laying in the hospital bed. Not how you wanted to spend your time. If it weren't for that villian attack during your work study, you wouldn't be here. The patrol was going well until the two villians showed up. They were attempting to rob an old woman, but you wouldn't allow. So, with no heroes around to save the day, you stepped in.

You managed to get one down and hold the other back until the pros showed up. That was how you ended up with one rib broken and two fractured. Can't forget the head trauma either.

Breathing hurt a bit, and the tiniest movement sent a sharp pain. But you just wanted to go to school.

~~~~

"They aren't answering calls or texts, ribbit." Asui said with worry. The two of you were close and often texted or called on your way home. You should have been on your way by now. So why weren't answering?

Midoriya looked over in confusion. "Is it about that time already?" His head tilted slightly.

The question earned a nod from Tenya. "Yes. Y/n should have left their work study about 11 minutes ago."

Bakugou looked over with a cocky grin. "11 minutes? That's specific. Must really like them or something."

His teasing words caused Tenya to blush. He attempted to hide it by reaching up and adjusting his glasses. "I simply pay close attention to my classmates, Bakugou." He lied swiftly, though terribly. His face gave it all away.

Smirking, Bakugou looked back to the book he was studying. "Whatever you say, Glasses." He waved him away.

Tenya sighed. The relationship you two shared was a bit complicated. You knew very you liked each other. Hell, sometimes, you allowed yourselves to act like a couple. But the both of you were a bit too shy to go pass that. Instead, you chose to go with the flow of things and see where life took you.

That's when Aizawa walked in. "All of you, listen up." He spoke calmly. Even with the chatter, everyone silenced. It'd became a habit to pick out Aizawa's voice from a crowd. It was what was expected, as no one ever wanted to defy him.

"Y/n is currently being hospitalized. They were injured during their work study, broken ribs and head trauma. They will recover over time, but visiting hours are currently open. Would anyone like to go?" Aizawa watched as almost everyone stood to their feet, worry etched on their faces. "I figured. Get dressed, I'll be waiting by the front gate."

~~~~

There was a sudden knock on your door. "You have visitors." The nurse said.

"Um, send them in." You weren't expecting anyone. It was probably Aizawa. Maybe Asui. Or even Tenya.

What you didn't expect was for almost your entire class to show up. Your eyes widened at the many get well gifts they held.

"Are you okay? Ribbit." Tsuyu rushed over to you, handing you a card and a stuffed animal. You smiled down at the cushiony frog.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Tsuyu." You put a hand on her shoulder. "Everything is just a bit foggy. My ribs hurt a bit too, but nothing major. Definitely not as bad as it sounds."

Tenya walks over, already doing a chopping motion. Oh boy..

"What were you thinking? How could you be so reckless? You could have been killed!" He lectures. Rather than argue, you watch as he scolds you. The others occasionally pitch in too, but leave most of it to Tenya.

"Do you remember when you broke your arm not that long ago?" Tenya crosses his arms.

You finally decide to speak up. "Oh, I was fine. I am fine." You give a cheeky smile that puts a stop to Tenya's lectures.

Tenya sighed. "Sure you are, Bone Breaker."

From the outside, the name would come off as intimidating. But it was your own bones were you breaking.

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname though, as Tenya rarely gave out nicknames. Izuku was the only one to receive a nickname before today.

"I am, I promise." I chuckled softly, looking up at him with sweet eyes.

With one more look, Tenya took a balloon and a pillow from Izuku, thanking him for holding them. "These are from me. Some of us are missing, but that's mostly because they wouldn't let too many of us in. But we've brought their gifts."

The balloon reads "Get Well Soon" and the pillow has a sweet message sewed into it.

"Thanks, Tenya." You hold the pillow close.

You receive the rest of the gifts, happy that they cared so much. While you did feel a bit bad for worrying your classmates, you'd do it again to save that old woman if you could.

~~~~

The next few days go by quickly. You get visits from your family often. And with Tenya being the one to bring your homework, he's met them.

Your parents love him. They weren't very sure at first, but they noticed how well-mannered he was. How he seemed to have your best interest in mind.

They saw how he looked at you. Like you were the world. Especially when you smiled.

They definitely liked him.

But it didn't take long for Valentines Day to roll around. You didn't even know it was that close.

When you woke up, you were surprised to see so many gifts. Had they visited you early this morning? It made sense, as maybe some of them had plans, like Ochako and Izuku. Or Bakugou and Kirishima.

Checking your phone, you notice you'd gotten many texts, all of them sweet and detailed.

With a smile, you looked through all of your gifts. There were chocolates, balloons, stuffed animal, and many other things.

You picked up a bento box and noticed a note attached. Detaching the note, you read it:

I'm sorry I couldn't come see you today, Aizawa had us training extremely hard today. Be careful next time, then we could maybe spend the day together. I know hospital food isn't the best, so I made your favorite lunch. I don't cook very often, so it may not be the best. Please be sure to get well soon. And as I said before, be careful next, Bone Breaker.

It was signed with Iida's name. You couldn't help but smile widely. He had his own chef and he cooked it himself? Not only that, he wanted to spend next Valentines together?

Yeah. You'd be extra careful.

#tenya iida x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #tenya iida

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couchpotatoaniki · 4 years ago

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One Year ❣︎ Seven: Never Ask Friends for Help

Chapter Summary: As San expected, he caught a cold after your little prance through the storm in Hallim Park the previous day. Luckily, you're fine, which gives you the wonderful opportunity to look after him and the even more wonderful opportunity to let your chaotic nature shine.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, (this chapter is pure fluff and crack) Word count: 3.2k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Six For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Silence filled your room when you woke up the next morning. It was strange, since San had said he would be waking you up, and there you were, still lying in bed by the time noon rolled around.

It wasn’t as if you were waiting for him to come and get you, but you just wanted to take advantage of the time in such a warm blanket. Yeosang often joked about how you became a cold-blooded reptile whenever you felt sleepy, body temperature dropping and your tongue sharp like that of a snake.

Basically, it was his long-winded way of calling you a cranky, heat-stealing bitch.

Not that you minded at all, since Yeosang was a cranky bitch himself when sleepy.

But then half an hour passed, and there was still no sign of San. Throwing the blanket off your form, you slipped on a pair of slippers and got ready for the day, finding him becoming the very next thing on your agenda.

And the state you found him in was certainly laughable--to you anyway.

“Did you seriously get sick after a little storm?” you chuckled, eyes taking in San wrapped in the covers as if he was a baby, sniffling every few seconds.

“Oh, shut it,” he glared at you, speaking with a nasally voice.

You took a step into his room, one looking fairly similar to yours, with little pictures or much personalisation in general. Must not have stayed here often then, or had many memories he wanted to keep.

That thought... it made you feel a little sad.

Once you reached the edge of his bed, you sat down beside him, noticing just how sickly-looking he was. Skin paler, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, flush cheeks and nose, uneven breathing, soft whimpering.

Your smile faded slightly. “How long have you been like this?”

“Since last night,” he coughed, brushing away your hand as you reached out to check his temperature. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want you to catch whatever this is.”

Clicked your tongue at his response and did so anyway. “Holy shit, you’re burning up. More than you should be. Has anyone seen to you yet?” Instantly, you brushed the hair from his eyes, simultaneously wiping away the sweat. Was pretty gross, but you didn’t mind at all.

San relaxed under your gentle touch, finding it cool and soothing against his muddled senses. “N-No. I texted Hongjoong to tell everyone to leave me alone. Clearly didn’t do a good enough job if you’re here.”

Lightly hitting his chest over the blanket, you scoffed. “You’re happy I’m here, don’t lie.”

Grinning, he sighed. “Can’t hide anything from you, now can I, Hun?”

“Nope,” you huffed as you got up. “Now, I’m going to prepare something for you to eat since you probably haven’t had anything since yesterday.” On cue, his stomach grumbled painfully loudly, making the man visibly cringe as he was about to decline your offer so you would stay with him for a little bit longer. “Looks like Mister Tummy’s already answered for you.”

“Mister Tummy doesn’t know shit.”

“Mister Tummy knows more shit than you do. In fact, it processes all of your shit for you.”

“Gross.”

“I know. Mister Tummy’s gross. But full of wisdom.”

“You know what, just go. Leave me be for a bit.”

Evil chuckling reached his ears. “Now that you’ve said it, I’ll just be here to annoy you as much as I can. But before we do that, keep yourself bundled up and make sure you’re sweating buckets. It’s the most effective way to break a nasty fever like that.” You began wrapping him up in the thick blanket like he was a burrito.

With that, you left for the kitchen, calling Seonghwa’s number. As the ringing continued, you looked around, noticing how there were few guards and servants around the place. Not even Wooyoung, Jongho, or Hongjoong could be seen in your trek to make food.

“What do you want, troll?”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that. Whatever happened to ‘hello’? Too mainstream for you?”

“...Hello, troll. What do you want?”

Narrowing your eyes ahead of you, smirk pressing against your lips, you tried to look around for the chef. Not there either. “Much better. Now, can you give me a recipe for that soup with ‘magical healing properties’ you used to give me?”

“Bone broth?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m on adventure to nurse a sociopathic cuddle-demon back to health, now are you going to give me the recipe or am I going to get Yunho to drag it out of you? Because I know very well that he will.”

Seonghwa’s sigh was loud enough to be audible through the phone.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Just text me the recipe, thank you, love you, byeeeeee.” Immediately ended the call, looking in all the cupboards, the pantry, the fridge, and the freezer. This place was stocked to the brim.

Shortly after, your phone began buzzing, Seonghwa requesting to video call you. Swiping the green button, you were met with a (slightly laggy) picture of Seonghwa’s chin, hearing him yell off screen. “--UNHO. MINGI. I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU BETTER PUT THAT DOWN BEFORE I SHOVE IT UP BOTH YOUR ASSES.”

You could make out the response, “Hehe, kinky.” Most likely Mingi from the very nature of the comment.

“What do you want, troll?” you echoed his words back to him, catching his attention--the other boys most likely long gone into the depth of the house.

“Well, well, well, how the tables have turned,” he smirked, moving the camera so you could see him better.

“It’s ‘how the turntables’.”

He looked at you with an unimpressed expression, not pleased with your Office reference, and carried on to ignore it. “So there is no way in hell I’m sending you the recipe through text, since people can easily hack that--”

“And by people, you mean--”

“Yeosang, yes, who else? Little rat bastard keeps trying to steal my recipes.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

“As if he hasn’t heard it already about a million times.”

You chuckled in response, knowing how true it was. “Fair enough. Now spill your secrets and bless me with the ability to cook.”

One word to describe the last hour of your life would be... Well, you couldn’t really think of a word. It was purely of Seonghwa screaming over the phone and you screaming back. And panicking. Both of you definitely panicked.

But all in all, the bone broth was made and tasted fairly decent--a worry you had after fucking up so many times in making a simple recipe.

With a pale and dreary look upon his face, Seonghwa looked at you through the phone, narrowing his eyes on you pouring some of the hot mixture in to a bowl. “You’re actually gonna feed him that? Sure you’re trying to nurse him, or was this a master plan to kill him after that ordeal? Because if it’s the latter, then there were much easier ways of doing so.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, whispering prayers in your head that it would actually help San’s fever. “And goodbye.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Is that it? You’re gonna use me and then lea--”

You hand pulled away from the phone screen, after having pressed the red button. Chuckled to yourself with your comedic timing, completely forgetting the earful you’d get of the elder the next time you call him.

Gathering a tray, you placed the bowl of bone broth on top of it, as well as a packet of painkillers, a glass of water, and some turmeric tea; why San has it, you have no idea, since he seems to be a hot coffee-kind of person.

Would’ve added a flower, because you felt like being extra, but that would seem more like a romantic thing than a... well, whatever the hell you two were right now.

This situation wasn’t exactly common enough for it to be given a name.

Wafting away the thought, you grabbed the tray and walked quickly to the mobster’s bedroom. Didn’t need to worry about any spillage since you’ve had years of practice being quick and precise with movement.

Holding one hand beneath the tray (feeling a little heavy, but again, you’ve had practice), you used the other to open the door, finding San still swaddled in his blanket, sweating like a pig.

“Y/N...” he whimpered, an eye opening at the sound of you entering. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state was different to how he usually was--and you weren’t sure if you liked it.

“I’m right here, San,” you replied in a soft tone, brushing back his hair once more as soon as you placed the tray on the bedside-table beside you. “Brought you some food too. Can you sit up for me?”

Letting out soft whines, he tried to lift his body up, but was too weak and too caged in to get his back even a centimetre off the mattress. You saw the issue, and pulled the covers apart slightly so he could move a little more, both hands pulling gently at his shoulders so he could sit up properly.

Never had you seen someone this unwell from a simple fever. Sure, you’ve felt like shit before, but San’s condition was a little worrying. “Is there some private doctor I can call?”

“What,” he huffed, a smile etching onto his face as he looked into your eyes, “makes you think I have a private doctor?”

“Oh, I dunno, you’re a rich asshole?”

Chuckling, he let his head flop to the side, neck suddenly too weak to hold it up properly. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Annoying, but funny, but sarcastic, but beautiful.”

“Okay, do you wanna continue with that word vomit or are you gonna eat?” You cocked your brow, head tilting to match his posture. “Also, you’re not gonna flatter me by calling me beautiful. That shit doesn’t work on me anymore.”

It had slightly upset San knowing that you had said ‘anymore’--upset him knowing that there were others complimenting what his. But he couldn’t blame them. You really were beautiful in his eyes, even if he hadn’t thought so when he initially laid eyes on you.

“Don’t wanna eat.”

Sighing, you fixed yourself and picked up the bowl, mixing it as you blew to cool it down a little. “You’re not well, you gotta.”

He looked at you with big wide eyes and a small pout--and you couldn’t help but think it was a little cute. “Don’t wanna... unless you feed me?”

Okay, maybe it was a little less cute.

You exhaled, still stirring. “If I do, then you’ll have it all?” He put his hand over his heart, nodding with a sincere look on his face. “Fine then.” You lifted a spoon full of the bone broth to his lips, which he look into his mouth promptly--eyes glued to yours as he did so.

San hummed earnestly. “It’s...actually pretty good.”

Eye twitching, you lightly pushed him. “Why? Did you expect it to be shit?”

“I mean, I heard faint screaming and what I assume was swearing, which could have only come from you because I let everyone have a day off for today. So, yes, forgive my assumption that it would murder me,” he chuckled, opening his mouth once more, in which you carefully put more broth in.

“Be happy that I’m doing this much for you.”

“Because you feel guilty for getting me ill?”

“No, it was your fault for not taking a hot shower when we came back, like I told you to--and your immune system for being so shit.”

“Okay, first of all, I can’t help it if my immune system wants to act out. I usually don’t get this ill.” You sent him a ludicrous look, continuing to feed him. “What? I really don’t!”

“Tell that to the rain.”

“I-- nevermind. But the second thing is that I offered to take a shower, but you said no!”

“That’s because you wanted to shower with me. No way in hell I was gonna let that happen!”

“You have the shower room for it!”

″Yeah, and I've already passed on my grievances to you yesterday about that hell-room!”

“Well, at least with me with you, you don’t have to worry about--what did you call it? Oh yeah--’Casper the fuckin’ Perverted Ghost’.”

“I’d take a ghost over you any day.”

“You won’t be saying that in a year.”

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t be choosing Casper over you. After all, I’ll be spending time with him as well.”

San scoffed, slightly amused but annoyed at the same time. “Are you actually trying to get me jealous of something that doesn’t exist?”

“Who said Casper doesn’t exist?”

“‘Cause ghosts don’t exist.”

“Tell that to Casper. You’ll find him in my shower room.”

Amidst the conversation, neither of you had noticed how the bowl and cup was now empty, their contents now residing in San’s stomach. But when you did, you got up--ready to walk to the kitchen and put everything away--until his very warm hands wrapped around your elbow gently.

“Please don’t go. You can put all that stuff away later. Just... stay with me.”

Sighing, you decided to listen to him for once an put the tray down before tightening the covers around him again--making him whine. “Noooooo, I wanna hold you.”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?”

“I’m ill, stop taking my muddled brain so seriously.”

Your brow cocked up, amused while you looked over his flushed face. “So you’d be willing get me sick too?”

Another pout formed on his face. “Of course not,” he mumbled. “You know what, you’re right. You can go.”

He avoided looking at you, instead fixing his saddened gaze at the window. Your natural scepticism told you that he was just faking it, only putting on an act to get your attention and affection. Yet, for the first time in a while, doubt began to seep in.

Maybe... maybe you could give in. Just this once.

Sighing, you slipped off your slippers and lay down beside him, an arm and leg wrapping around his body to bring him closer to you. A stronger tint of red covered his face as he looked at you, flabbergasted, as he tried to wriggle out of your touch. “What are you doing, you’ll get sick--”

“My immune system is much stronger than yours, I’ll live. Besides, you look cosy,” you muttered, nestling your face into the soft blanket. Even his blanket smelled like a garden in the rain, despite the amount of sweat that’s probably seeped into it.

Truly, he did, and you couldn’t deny that you wanted to hug the human burrito.

San had, instead, found you cute, cheek squished against the fabric surrounding him. Let his mind wonder to the image of you pressed against him--without the covers coming between you two.

Again.

Would you look this peaceful, sleeping on his chest, on a regular day--he thought.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna get some rest?” San could feel your voice vibrating through the covers despite the thickness of it.

“Hard not to stare at you, ya know?” he relaxed himself, despite feeling like he was baking beneath the blanket, and let his head rest on the pillow, cheek pressed against your forehead.

“Goddamn, you’re hot. Did you take any medicine while I was cooking?”

“Oh, Hun, there’s no cure for sexiness,” he coughed, a smirk pulling at his lips from the joke he made.

Another sigh was pulled from your throat as you got up to look for any painkillers he could take. Sane began to whine once more, rolling over since he could barely had enough energy to move with his arms when he was this tired--a full belly of warm broth and tea not helping what so ever.

“No--wait. Come back...”

“You need painkillers.”

With a straight face, he stared deep into your eyes, slightly glossy and sparkling under the dim sunlight coming into the room. “But you’re my painkiller.”

“Yeah, I’m going to get you some meds,” you deadpanned, scooping up the tray to leave the grown-ass mafia boss whining and rolling around, throwing a tantrum.

After some hard thinking and remembering that Wooyoung had given you his number, you called him up as you stood in the doorway, looking at San’s calm state of sleeping.

“My dear sister,” you heard a voice finally say over the phone, “what requires my assistance?”

“...Wooyoung?”

“Yes, dear sister?”

“What in the world has possessed you call me your ‘dear sister’?”

“Because you’re gonna be my friend’s wife some day, so I need to get used to seeing you as my sister-from-another-mister.”

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you decided to not comment on his outlandish claims. “San’s not feeling well.”

“Is that why he sent us all away?” he laughed, somehow finding this situation amusing--since this is what his best friend tends to do; finds his weakened state as vulnerability, and if there was one thing San hated, it was feeling vulnerable.

But if he truly hated that, then why pursue this why you--when he know that it would force him to bring his guard down?

“I think so. No one was here when I came out of my room. Not the cooks or the maids or even the guards,” you said, taking another gander as if there might be someone roaming the halls to disprove your statement.

There wasn’t.

“Okay then. You want me to give you our private doctor’s number?”

Chuckling to yourself because you knew you were right (immediately confusing Wooyoung), you hummed, “yeah, that would be great.”

“O-Okay. Lemme text it to you. But do you need anything else? I know from experience San can get a little clingy when he’s not in his right mind,” he said, a boisterous giggle passing his lips.

“Nah, it’s fine.” You let your gaze brush over your captor’s figure. “Just send me the number and I’ll take it from there.”

“Okie dokie then, dear sister. I’ll leave you to deal with that enigma.”

“Alright, Wooyoung. See you tomorrow?”

“Call me ‘dear brother’, then maybe I’ll hang u--”

You shoved your phone into your back pocket after ending the call, thinking that it would take him a few minutes. Proving you wrong, the phone buzzes to life within the next ten seconds, Wooyoung sending you a couple of messages.

Wooyoung: Well that was a rude Wooyoung: No matter, I still love ya, dear sister Wooyoung: Probs should clarify that it’s platonic in case San sees it and gets all jelly Wooyoung: Anyway, here’s the number Wooyoung: XXXXXXXXXX

Y/N: Thanks, bro

Wooyoung: 🥺🥺 You called me ‘bro’

Smiling a little, you called the number--which had indeed taken you to a doctor’s clinic. After hearing of his exact temperature and other symptoms, the woman over the phone had concluded that it was as you first suspected--the common cold.

She told you to keep giving him painkillers and he should be fine within the week. Ending the call with a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, you left to get San more broth and medication, and hopefully you’d lay down with him again.

Which is exactly what you did for the rest of the day, opting to stay with him for the night too in order to make sure he really was okay. Thankfully, the worst of his fever had passed by the time morning came around and he was feeling much better.

You, however, were exhausted after looking after him, deep in your slumber as you shifted closer to San, who had broken free of his blanket prison and wrapped it around the two of you. The sunlight peeking through the window paled in comparison to the faint smile of glee San had adorned when he saw you.

Cheeked pressed up against his shoulder, and arm and a leg draped over his body like a koala clinging to a tree.

Just like he had thought the day before.

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby , @sparklychangbin , @shawkneecaps If you wanna be tagged, feel free to ask!

66 notes · View notes

radiorenjun · 4 years ago

Text

kitchen frolics || lee jeno

➶ pairing: lee jeno x reader

➶ genre: fluff, crack, romance, twitch streamer!au, (slight)YouTuber!au, non idol!au, college!au, established relationship

➶ word count: 14.8k

➶ synopsis: you and your boyfriend, Jeno, decided to do a Christmas cooking live stream on twitch with no cooking experience whatsoever. It's safe to say you two were just two loud, idiotic simps obnoxiously trying to cook with 6k people tells you say to do.

➶ warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, absolute clownery, jeno being a funny boyfriend, inaccurate recipe I found online, y/n accidentally inhaled yeast?

“Babe!” Jeno shouted, adjusting the camera in front of him before checking his phone for the time. “I’m coming! I’m coming hold up! You can start without me for a bit!” you exclaimed from the bathroom, finishing the final touches of your makeup.

“Alright then!” he responded, opening the live stream on his twitch account. Typing ‘Kitchen Frolics’ as the name of the live stream before pressing the spacebar to start the live with a click of his tongue. He waited and started staring at the screen as he watched the view count increase on the screen in a matter of a few seconds.

He let out a charming smile as the chat started flooding with greetings and calls of his name in caps lock or a large amount of emojis. “Hey everyone!” He greeted, leaning back and away from the camera so that his viewers could see his whole form as he clapped his hands together enthusiastically.

“It’s lovely to see you all on this lovely day!” he grinned, rubbing his hands together before pausing for a small moment to replay his words. “Fuck, did I just say ‘lovely’ twice?” he laughed lightly to himself.

Jeno leaned his arm on the counter beside the laptop, taking a moment to make sure he was still in the camera’s view before leaning his head down to read the comments flooding through the chat box. “‘Jeno, you look so tall’,” he read, squinting his eyes to read the small text on the corner of his screen.

“Oh, well thank you. I’m on my journey of being taller than Jisung,” he joked, looking around bashfully to cover up how flustered he felt at reading the comment. He examined the clean kitchen counter and adjusted the camera he set up so it can record his hands mixing like in those Tasty cooking videos on youtube.

“Anyways, not many of you know this. But I am an extremely talented cook. I’m a professional chef! Like, my cooking skill is at a professional level, okay? Gordon Ramsay complimented on my cooking skills multiple times in my dms, the man practically looks up to me,” Jeno said in an exaggerated tone, picking up an opened can of coke and pulling it to his lips. “So, me and y/n were bored and we decided to do a live stream today,” Jeno clears his throat, putting the can down on the counter behind him.

“So today, we’re going to cook! Using the finest ingredients and the finest cooking utensils that I could gather from my kitchen,” Jeno then grabbed a large wooden spoon behind him, waving it from the camera with a proud expression on his face. He chuckled when his eyes scanned the chat for a moment, people commenting random emojis and sarcastic replies rapidly filling the chat box. “What? You guys don’t believe me? The audacity!” Jeno placed a hand on his heart, pouting like a wounded puppy.

“Stop being so dramatic. Quite frankly, even I don’t believe you.” You snickered, walking into the kitchen as you tied the white apron around your waist. “Hello to everyone in the chat!” you waved at the camera eagerly, watching as people spam the chat box with your name. “You’re so mean. You know very well my cooking expertise is very much immaculate,” Jeno whined, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pressed his body to your side, jutting his bottom lip.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you pushed your boyfriend’s face away with your palm. “You’re such a crybaby. No PDA in the livestream, you simp.” You laughed, pinching both of his cheeks as he glared at you, brows furrowed cutely. “Whatever,” Jeno rolled his eyes at you, retracting his arms from your waist to look back at the camera, attempting to conceal the blush on the tips of his ears and cheeks when his eyes darted to the chat box on his laptop screen which was practically filled with people gushing how cute you two were.

“Anyways, what are we doing today my love?” You asked, as if he hadn’t told you this a couple hours before you started the live stream. You leaned your elbow against his shoulder, letting your arm limp over his chest casually as you stared at the camera with a wide smile. “We’re cooking today, Y/n!” Jeno smiled at the camera, placing his arm back around your waist. “And what are we cooking exactly, Jen?” you asked again, not tearing your eyes away from the camera lense.

“Since it’s going to be Christmas very soon, I decided that we should cook something that could fit the occasion,” Jeno exclaimed, watching as people spammed the chat box with guesses of food relating to the holiday. “Which is?” you mused, stretching out the vowels to tease your viewers a bit. You watched as the view count increased with every passing minute. “Pizza!” He cheered, giving the camera enthusiastic jazz hands, ignoring how his words made you furrow your brows, feeling equally as confused as the viewers.

“Wait what? I thought we were making those chocolate balls on tik tok?” you furrowed your brows pulling away from your boyfriend to glare at him with a perplexed expression. “Yeah, we were. But then, I realise we got to add some spice to this live stream and some originality,” Jeno grinned mischievously, causing you to pucker your lips in disappointment. “But, how is pizza even related to Christmas?” you asked once again. “Because I said so,” your boyfriend stuck his tongue out teasingly.

You let out a dramatic sigh, looking down at your cat slippers before letting out loud sniffles to show how distraught you were over the sudden change of plans. “Aw, man. I was hoping to make some hot chocolate. Can I get an F in the chat for the chocolate balls we’ve never had?” you exclaimed dramatically, putting a hand on your chest and raising the other as if you were making some sort of pledge as you looked at the chat box, watching as it blew up with a bunch of Fs.

“Thank you, everyone,” you wiped an invisible tear from your cheek, ignoring your boyfriend who rolled his eyes at your dramatic actions. “Shut up, babe. Anyways, before we waste any time, let’s get started!” Jeno rubbed his hands together, picking up a piece of paper in his hands which was a hand written recipe he probably found online. “I got the recipe from some random website, I’ll send the link to the recipe in the discord chat after the stream if you guys want,” he said, showing you the recipe in his hands.

“Well, this is going to get really messy. Are you sure Jaemin won’t mind us trashing the kitchen?” you asked, looking up at him with a raised brow. Jaemin was Jeno’s roommate who was an excellent cook. You couldn’t even count how many times he would kick you out of the kitchen to prevent you from eating any snacks whenever he was cooking something. Therefore, he definitely wouldn’t hesitate to ban the two of you from the kitchen if you make a huge mess.

“Oh come on, Jaemin is in his room editing his latest video. Even if we do manage to make a huge mess, we should be able to clean up before he finishes. What’s the worst thing that could happen, really?” Jeno chuckled, shrugging simply.

“YANGYANGsImp has donated $4! Says ‘Famous last words’” the speech bot said monotonously.

You let out a loud laugh, clapping your hands. “We’ll see, then” Jeno huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, how do we get started on the pizza dough?” he asked, leaning over you to look at the laptop screen. You furrowed your brows once again, turning your head to your boyfriend to give him a deadpan expression. “We have instructions! Why are you asking them?” you asked with a laugh, causing Jeno to snicker.

“Listen, I only have the recipe written down. Not the whole ass instructions, I’m too lazy to do that.” Jeno waved it off, eyeing the chat carefully to see if anyone has given you information. “This isn’t a handwritten essay, Jeno. We have a printer,” you chuckled. “Hush, y/n,” he puts a finger to your lips, silencing you in an instant which makes you sigh heavily. “Okay, so. It says here that we need to boil some water,” he read, getting a large cup from the dispenser.

“I love how you didn’t hesitate to fill up a random cup with water just because someone told you to,” you snickered, looking at the camera with a hand on your hip before going back to read the comments in the chat. “Are you sure that’s even remotely correct?” you asked, turning to see Jeno coming towards you with a jug of warm water in his hands. “Beats me. Y/n, come help me pour the water to this huge ass cup,” Jeno ordered, earning a nod from you as you pulled out a large cup from the cupboard and watched as Jeno poured some water into it.

Jeno was a little bit clumsy so it was safe to say he spilled more than ‘a little’ water.

“Shit! It got on the fucking notes!” your boyfriend cursed, pulling away to put the jug back in the sink, ignoring your laughs as you waved your hand in front of the slightly wet paper in an attempt to dry it. “How did that even happen?” you giggled, blowing on the piece of paper as the chat started calling Jeno ‘an adorable klutz’. “Ah, shit.” Jeno wiped his hands against the fabric of his sweatpants. “They say it’s supposed to be two cups. That’s about the size of two cups right?” he asked, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up his arms.

“I don’t know. Suddenly I’m Jared,19.” you joked, earning a soft flick to your forehead. “Dumbass. Jared 19 can’t read, not count.” he snickered, picking up the notes from your hand, cringing at the feeling of the wet paper in between his fingers. “Okay so, it says here that we should add a tablespoon of sugar.” he read aloud, pointing at the paper to show you and then proceeding to show the camera his notes.

“I didn’t know pizza had sugar in it,” you mumbled, walking over to the drawers to find the measuring tools. “I guess we learn something new everyday,” Jeno shrugged, watching you bring over some measuring spoons and lay them on the counter in front of the camera. “Wait, so which is which?” you asked, picking up the measuring spoons that were stuck together. “A tablespoon is for eating right? Just pick the one you usually use to eat,” Jeno shrugged, looking through the chat box.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten with such spherical spoons before, Jeno,” you commented with a small giggle. Jeno sighed, grabbing the measuring tools from your grasp to examine them himself. “This just proves my point even more. I have immaculate cooking skills, indeed,” he boasted, pulling out what seems to be the biggest measuring tool you had given him. You furrowed your brows at this, “wait, are you sure that’s a tablespoon?” you asked.

“Well it has a number one in the middle here,” Jeno pointed at the inner part of the measuring tool, showing you the small number printed on the plastic. “That seems like a lot for a table spoon,” you mumbled watching as Jeno shook the powdery substance into the measuring tool. “I didn’t know pizza had this much sugar,” you added on. “You didn’t know pizza had sugar to begin with, y/n,” Jeno deadpanned, walking over to the cup of warm water.

Before he could pour it, your eyes wandered to the screen of your laptop only to widen your eyes at the amount of people telling you to stop. “Wait, Jeno. Why are they saying stop?” you exclaim, putting a hand on his arm to halt him from doing anything else. Jeno let out a noise of confusion, turning his head to the screen as well as he furrowed his brows to read the small text. “Wait, what’s going on? What did we do wrong? Why is everybody telling us to stop?” Jeno asked, eyes scanning the chat room to see if anyone was pointing out what you were doing wrong.

“Listen, you guys aren’t the one risking your lives sneaking into Jaemin’s territory here okay? You’re not the one putting your lives on the line just to cook a pizza,” Jeno huffed, waving a wooden spoon at the camera with a pouting frown on his lips as you scanned through the chat box. “This is a very futile attempt of being the next Gordon Ramsay,” Jeno laughed, turning his head at you.

Then it hits you like a truck.

“Jeno! I swear we’re absolute fucking morons. That is not a tablespoon,” you let out a loud laugh, taking the other measuring spoons into your hands as Jeno let out a small ‘oh’, laughing along with you. “Wait a sec, is this a cup?” he exclaimed, finally realising his mistake as he examined the measuring tool which he had now placed on the counter in front of you. “Oh shit, it is a cup! Whoopsie! Our bad! Our bad!” you laughed, showing him an actual tablespoon which was about 4 times smaller than the cup. You both started laughing at your own stupidity, putting a tablespoon of sugar into the warm water.

“Wait, let’s add a little more,” you grinned, picking up an eighth of a tablespoon of sugar and dunking it in with no hesitation. “Babe, no don’t-” Jeno wasn’t able to stop you before dumping the sugar into the water. “We’re going to have really sweet pizza, huh?” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he let out a soft laugh.

“Sweet like you,” you winked, causing your boyfriend to roll his eyes at you. “What did you say about the no PDA on live streams, again?” Jeno’s lips quirked up into a small smirk before shaking his head profusely at you. “Alright dumbass, let’s just keep going with this.” you both snickered at each other before stirring the sugar until it dissolves.

“Okay, what’s next-” Jeno clicked his tongue, leaning to the screen of your laptop before you decided to cut him off. “Jeno.” you called out, seeming lost in thought. “Yeah?” he hummed, turning to you for a split second before scanning his eyes through the chat box. “Babe, have you washed your hands?” you asked in a rather hesitant voice, turning to him slowly and eerily. Jeno opened his mouth to respond before furrowing his brows in thought as if to say ‘did I?’

He let out a loud dramatic gasp before turning to the sink. “Shit, right! Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” he rambled in a panicked tone, eliciting another laugh from you as you watch him frantically wash his hands. The chat box was soon filled with Jeno’s name in caps lock, either laughing or clowning at him for saying how he was ‘a professional chef’ but he still forgot to wash his hands. “Oh my god, so all this time you’ve been touching these ingredients with your filthy hands,” you wheezed, hitting the counter as you laughed. “And to think that this global pandemic was actually going to teach us the importance of washing our hands,” you laughed even harder.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m sorry. My hands are squeaky clean now! I swear I have not contaminated the water with my hands!” Jeno laughs, wiping his hands against the fabric of his black hoodie, pushing his glasses up to his nose before showing his slightly wet hand. “I assure you, Jeno’s restaurant is cleaner than my reputation!” Jeno puts his hands together as an apology, staring at the camera with his puppy dog eyes. “Great hygiene comes with great pizza,” you snickered, earning a death glare from the taller boy standing beside you, his lips forming an angry pout.

“Watch me get cancelled for forgetting to wash my hands,” Jeno puts his hand on his hip, chuckling at you. “Rest in peace your reputation, then. May covid-19 graciously carry you to the afterlife,” you waved him off without batting an eye, laughing hard after a few seconds of silence. “Go away,” Jeno snorted, pushing you out of the camera view gently as you both giggled.

“Jeno, we just started and you can already see how terrible this is going,” you commented with a soft snort. Jeno let out a light laugh of his own as he walked away to grab the yeast from the cabinet. “I think this wouldn’t be so bad if my girlfriend was actually helping!” he retorted, closing the door with an accusatory finger at you. “Hey, I’m actually helping!” you exclaimed with wide eyes before looking at the ingredient list he wrote. “Look! Two tablespoons of yeast! I’m definitely helping. Right, chat?” you turned to the camera with a proud grin, only to be faced with a bunch of ‘no’s or ‘whatever you say, y/n.’

“I love how they’re agreeing with me,” he snickered, pointing at the laptop screen. “Lovethe90s has donated $2! Says ‘y/n, we love you but so far, you’ve just been laughing at Jeno’,” the speech bot said, causing Jeno to laugh even more as he watched your jaw drop to the floor. “I love how none of you are taking my side. This is clearly favoritism,” you commented with a sad nod before feeling Jeno wrap an arm around your waist lovingly.

“It’s okay, boo. You’re still my girlfriend, no matter how unhelpful you are.” Jeno giggled, nuzzling his head against yours as you frowned at the camera. “That’s good to know,” you mumbled before smacking him on the chest and pushing him off of you. “Anyways, where were we?” Jeno rolled his eyes at you, opening the packet of yeast in his hands. “So two tablespoons of this?” he asked, looking up at you for confirmation.

“That’s what your ingredient list says,” you shrugged, showing him the now crumpled paper. He furrowed his brows, adjusting his glasses before shrugging. “Two tablespoons of yeast it is, then,” he chuckled, handing you the yeast and watching you scoop out the powdery substance into the large cup. You coughed, scrunching your face before turning away from the camera. “Oh fuck, I think I accidentally inhaled it,” you groaned, ignoring your laughing boyfriend as you went out of the camera view to grab yourself a glass of water.

“You okay, babe?” Jeno called out, turning his head to look at you with slight concern. You coughed, feeling the sting up your nose as you walked back into the camera with teary eyes, groaning as Jeno continued to laugh at your suffering. “Next is… Mixing!” Jeno exclaimed, ignoring how you continued your coughing fit behind him. “Babe, can you hand me something to mix?” he turned to you, watching you glare at him with the most angriest look you could muster.

“Fine,” you croaked, opening the drawer in front of you before taking out a wooden spatula and handing it to him. “Thank you!” he squeaked, grabbing the spatula from you oh-so-casually before stirring the mixture in the cup. “Now, we’re going to mix all this up until it’s thoroughly combined and incorporated,” Jeno exclaimed as you finally walked over to him, watching as your silly boyfriend continued to stir the yeast with (supposedly Jaemin’s favourite) wooden spatula.

“Just a word of warning, we’re definitely going to get banned from the kitchen if Jaemin ever decides to come out of his room at the time of this live stream,” you commented casually, leaning your elbow on his shoulder and leaning your head against him as you watched the chat box erupt with laughs and internet slangs. Jeno gulped, nodding with a nervous chuckle. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’m being Gordon Ramsay Junior here, y/n. Can’t you be more supportive for your loving boyfriend?” he pouted.

“I would if you didn’t laugh at my misery all the damn time,” you shot back, your free hand reaching out to pinch his cheeks gingerly. He huffed, rolling his eyes at you as he shook your hand away. “You know I still love you,” you grinned, turning your head so you can stare deeply into his dark eyes. He paused his stirring, mirroring your actions as he turned his head to gaze into your eyes and your lips. “Yes, yes I do,” he nodded, pressing a small kiss on your nose before pulling the spatula out of the cup.

“When Nicki Minaj said ‘yes, I do the cooking. Yes, I do the cleaning,’ I swear this isn’t what you think,” Jeno mumbled under his breath, causing you to let out a laugh. “Stop! Oh my god, we’re never going to finish this,” you wheezed, moving the cup away to let the yeast sit for a bit. “Wait, let me pour the sugar back into the container, you can rest for a bit,” you snickered, grabbing the container filled with sugar and the previous cup you used.

“Okay, don’t spill anything, love!” Jeno cooed, leaning against the counter and sipping his can of coke as he continued reading the comments with the occasional speech bot speaking whenever someone donated or subscribed to your stream. “‘Can you add pineapple on pizza?’” he read aloud, furrowing his brows in concern before looking at the camera. “Not to shit on your taste in pizzas, but what the fuck?” he cocked his head to the side to look at you slowly pouring sugar from the cup into the small opening of the container.

“I’m seriously concerned, right now,” you joked, closing the container once you got the sugar back in. “Great, now. We just need a bowl to mix our dough in,” you said, opening the dish racks to see if there were any clean bowls left. Jeno and Jaemin were two broke college students, just like you, so it didn’t surprise you much if you found that all the bowls were either still in the dishwasher or hidden somewhere in their rooms as they usually spent hours on their desks playing games while eating ramen on days end.

“Jeno, do you have any bowls left?” you asked, looking up at the male. “All there’s left here is a strainer. Also, why do you have a strainer?” you furrowed your brows in confusion, making Jeno click his tongue in thought. He opened his mouth to respond before closing it shut. “I’ll ask Jaemin if there’s any bowls left,” he mumbled, eliciting another light hearted laugh from you as he walked out of the camera to call out Jaemin’s name.

“HasbeenTaeil has donated $6.46! Says ‘You two are so adorable my single ass can’t- Love you both! Stay safe!’

You look up at the camera with a bashful smile. “Aw, thanks. You guys are cute too!” you exclaimed, spreading your arms open to give your fans (the camera) a hug. “Thank you all for the donations, by the way. We are always so grateful to everyone who subscribed and donated, you guys are seriously the best!” you smiled widely, watching as the viewer count increased to 6k. “I can’t believe 6 thousand people are watching Jeno and I attempt to make a pizza from scratch,” you commented with a proud grin.

“Okay so I asked Jaemin,” Jeno came back, adjusting the sleeves of his hoodie as he walked into the camera’s view. “And he said he doesn’t know either,” he grinned nervously, causing you to roll your eyes. “Oh my god, how are we going to make the dough without getting things messy now?” you groaned, scanning through the kitchen to find an alternative.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Right, chat-”

“Wait a minute-never mind!” your bo.yfriend laughed, pulling out a bowl behind the camera on the counter. “It was behind the camera all along, shit!” he wheezed, taking a step back to take in how idiotic the two of you are. “Damn, we really need to check our eyes,” you snickered, rubbing your temples as you suppressed the urge to facepalm. “This just shows how perfect we are for each other,” you added, earning a cough from Jeno.

As soon as you said that, the chat box was instantly filled with people commenting on how much of a simp you are. The worst part was that most of them were in caps lock, which made things even more hilarious. “Awe, y/n really be simping for me on a live stream. Someone play ‘Feel Special’ by Twice,” Jeno cooed, giving you a smug expression before earning a smack on the back from you. “Shut up! You’re a simp for me as well!” smacking him lightly with each word as he let out a small chuckle.

“I can’t deny that,” Jeno winked. You gaped at how bold your boyfriend was being. “You did not just ruin the fantasies of the people who wrote fanfiction about you!” you laughed, watching as the chat box erupted with comments of people saying how much you were whipped for each other. “Wattpad territory was terrifying. I swear, if you search my name up on that specific website. Most of them are like 18+. And I don’t know how I feel about that,” Jeno shook his head with a joking smile, bringing the flour to the counter.

“Oh come on. You were basically fangirling when we did that stream of reading fanfictions about each other,” you smirked at him, nudging his side softly as he opened the packet of flour. “That’s because it was about you and me! Despite how angsty it was, it was still very much intriguing. Plus, they basically gave me ideas on what to do on our next date, it’s a win-win situation!” Jeno retorted with an incredulous laugh.

“And that ladies and gentlemen, is the evidence I need to prove that our Jeno here, read fanfictions about me! A.K.A his precious girlfriend, let’s give him a round of applause!” you clapped your hands while shaking your head, watching as Jeno glared at you with a raised brow, his eyes darting at the chat box who were still calling him out for being a major simp. “This is misleading information, I should sue you,” Jeno said rather monotonously. But you all knew he was just joking.

“You can’t sue the person you simp for, Jeno-”

“Winderellaprincess has donated $3! Says ‘is this a cooking show or a battle of two simps? I mean- I’m not complaining’”

“Oh shit!” you both cursed in unison. “I totally forgot we were cooking, oh fuck!” you laughed, clapping your hands. “We really are simps,” Jeno teased, making the two of you laugh even more. “Go away!” you mused as you picked up the handwritten paper Jeno wrote. “Okay, so, your paper says that we need three cups of flour,” you read aloud, tossing the paper back on the counter. “Three cups?” Jeno asked, picking up the cup you both previously used for the sugar.

“A half of the packet looks like three cups to me-”

“Jeno, no, I still want to be able to walk into this kitchen without Jaemin whacking my head with a pan,” you shook your head, grabbing the packet from him and leaning it to the side. “Fine, I’ll just hold the cup,” Jeno giggled as you both continued to use the measuring cup to pour in the flour into the bowl. “Oh fuck! Shit, sorry!” you laughed after spilling a bit of flour onto the counter and some onto the floor. You both wheezed as you took a few steps back to compose yourselves.

“I fucking swear, we’re never cooking together ever again,” you shook your head, standing weakly as you tried to stop laughing.

“Kwangyaman has donated $2! Says ‘now I see why Jaemin doesn’t allow ya’ll to step foot into the kitchen’”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you wiped a tear from your eye as you tried to keep yourself from laughing too hard. “My stomach hurts from laughing,” Jeno scrunches his face cutely, showing his crescent moon-shaped eyes as he continues to laugh. “I told you we should just dump half of the packet in!” he exclaimed, dropping the packet of flour on the counter carelessly as he examined the mess you made. “Oh god, Jaemin’s going to fucking kill us!”

“itsjunrenhuang has donated $4.99! Says ‘we stan Gordon Ramsay’s walmart children’”

“We appreciate the compliment,” you snorted, waving your hand off as you tried to dust off the flour to the floor, inevitably covering your slippers in the process. “It’s the genes,” Jeno added with a soft laugh. “Shawn Mendes once said ‘it isn’t in my blood’ and Jeno clearly ignored him,” you teased, looking back at the handwritten paper on the counter. “I swear, if this doesn’t taste good. I’m just going to buy a personal chef,” you muttered under your breath, wiping the flour on your apron.

“You’re talking as if you could afford one,” Jeno shot back, earning a small huff from you. “Just so you all know, thank you so much for donating. We’ll read through all the donations after the live stream. The donations will be spent on this magnificent restaurant!” he exclaimed with his hands on his hips, moving to read the comments. “Alright, mister. Let’s get back to cooking before our real personal chef gets out of his natural habitat,” you patted Jeno’s shoulder, leaning over to look at the recipe with him.

“‘Three quarters of a tablespoon of salt’,” he read before reaching up to open the cupboard to find some salt. “I swear, we still have some salt leftover,” he mumbled, causing your eyes to go wide at his statement. “Imagine if you ran out though?” you mused, raising a brow as you turned to face the camera. “Shut up, I found it,” Jeno pulled the container half filled with salt from the cupboard and twisted the lid open with a small grunt before handing the container to you.

“Okay, three quarters of a tablespoon-” you stuck your tongue out in concentration as you dipped the tablespoon in and eyeballed it. “That’s about three quarters, right?” you showed your boyfriend the spoon who narrowed his eyes at it before nodding simply. “Yeah, I think so.” he nodded at you, giving you a soft shrug as you frowned. “By the way if you guys are wondering what salt we’re using. It’s the uh-” you turned the container of salt in your hands and furrowed your brows to read the label.

“You’re saying that as if they don’t have salt at home,” Jeno snickered. “Really shows how much you love salty foods,” he poked your cheek as you let out a frustrated huff. “Hey, at least I have some spice in my life!” you retorted with a shuddering laugh, raising the container of salt as if you were aiming to hit him. “Anyways we’re using Kosher salt,” you grinned at the camera, showing the salt container as if it wasn’t a famous local brand.

“moonhannah just donated $5! Says ‘who let these adorable babies in the kitchen? This is all so chaotic’”

You and Jeno looked up at the camera at this, brows furrowed as you stared back at the camera with offended expressions. “We’re grown adults!” you both whined in unison before turning back to the dough without a second thought. “Hey chat, do you guys think we should add more flour? This doesn’t look enough,” you asked, putting the bowl under the camera on the counter, making sure that your viewers could see it.

“Again, you should’ve listened to me and added half of the packet,” Jeno huffed, waddling over to you with the packet of flour in his hands. “But doesn’t half seem a bit too much?” your eyebrows quirked up slightly at him. “Once again, we need originality and creativity, love.” Jeno shrugged, finishing his coke before tossing it to the trash can and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before putting a bit more flour into the bowl.

“Hakuna Matata,” you chuckled, earning a loud yell from your boyfriend. “Stop! We’re going to get fucking copyrighted!” Jeno laughed, picking up the wooden spatula on the counter to wave it in front of your face. “A sexy lawsuit from Disney,” you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly as Jeno choked on his own spit. “Why am I dating you again?” he coughed, stifling a laugh.

“Next!” you exclaimed, peering your eyes at the paper on the counter once again. “Virgin oil,” you read aloud before turning to Jeno who was opening a new can of coke from the fridge. “Excuse me, what?” Jeno coughed, adjusting to the tingly sparks on his tongue as he drank. “Virgin oil,” you repeated with the same casual tone before Jeno furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Do we even have that?” Jeno mumbled to himself.

“Jeno, this is your kitchen! How do you not know?” you said incredulously, putting a hand on your hip and your other hand on the counter. He coughed, giving you an innocent eye smile before opening cabinets to see if he actually does have some virgin oil stored somewhere. “Shut up, Jaemin is usually the only one who actually does the grocery shopping around here. I don’t know shit about the kitchen!” Jeno laughed, ignoring the speech bot’s monotonous voice as people started flooding the chat box with how chaotic this was.

“Gordon Ramsay genes, huh?” you mused with a smirk on your lips. “Shut up, I found it, dumbass,” he stuck his tongue out childishly at you before grabbing the tablespoon you were using previously. “Okay, so three tablespoons of virgin oil?” he asked, turning his head at the paper in your hands, receiving a silent nod from you. “You better not poke me or anything unless you want a very oily pizza, y/n,” he chuckled, twisting the bottle open as he spoke.

You scoffed incredulously. “Wouldn’t think of it,” you said in a sardonic tone as you watched Jeno carefully pour in about three tablespoons of oil. “Now, we add the yeast right?” you asked, picking up the cup that has been sitting on the side for a while, sniffing it before cringing and holding back a gag. “Oh god, that fucking stinks,” you croaked, breathing from your mouth as you try to get the smell out of your mind.

“Why did you smell it?” Jeno chuckled, taking the jug away from you as you coughed. “Curiosity killed the cat, Jeno,” you stated as you came up to see that Jeno had formed a hollow space in the middle of the bowl with the flour and poured the oil in the middle to make it seem like some sort of small puddle. “So, do we like- mix it first or add the yeast first then mix it?” you asked with a cock of your eyebrow.

“I think we add the yeast first,” Jeno said in a more questioning tone than a statement. “Are you sure?” you asked, turning to your boyfriend who scratched his head in confusion. “Nope, that’s why you’re going to do it,” he handed you back the jug with a cheeky grin, putting his hands in his pockets as if you were going to shove it back to him. You raised your brows in surprise, “me? Why me?” you exclaimed with an incredulous laugh.

“Because, I’ve been doing this myself. It’s your turn now,” he grinned, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. You glared at him intensely, mumbling small incoherent swears under your breath as you started to pour the yeast little by little, cringing at the foul smell. “So we just start mixing, just like that?” you asked as you put the cup back down on the corner of the counter. Jeno hummed in confirmation, opening the fridge to fetch out three cookies.

He shoved one into his mouth before handing you the spatula he used for mixing the yeast earlier. “Just mix it all up until it's fully incorporated,” Jeno nodded, putting a cookie in front of your mouth as an offering. You furrowed your brows, leaning back to examine the cookie in his hands before biting down with a small ‘nom!’.

“Does this count as vegan pizza?” you asked, looking up at Jeno before you scraped the sides of the bowl to get more flour into the mixture. “Huh?” Jeno responded with a perplexed expression. “What do you mean?” he asked. “The yeast. It’s like tofu-based yeast, I think,” you cocked your head to the side to gesture at the packaging. “But, we’re going to put cheese and pepperoni on the pizza. Does it still make it vegan?” Jeno mused, a light chuckle eliciting from his lips.

You paused, clicking your tongue before waving it off.

“Moving on!”

“Compared to those cooking videos on youtube and instagram, I think it’s safe to say we suck at this,” you said as you began mixing the ingredients together with the spatula he gave you, trying to chew in between your words. “What are you talking about? It doesn’t look that bad. Plus, we’re barely halfway through the damn process, don’t judge a book by it’s cover, y/n.” he huffed, pointing at the dough that has started to form.

“Jeno, I’ve seen too many Tasty youtube videos. I know what a good pizza dough looks like,” you paused your mixing to look at him and give him a disbelief scoff. Jeno rolled his eyes at this before pushing his last cookie into your mouth. “Excuse you, I’m the chef here. We are streaming from my account, therefore, you have no place to say if it’s bad or not because you simply haven’t tried it yet!” Jeno huffed, pinching your nose gingerly as he scrunched his nose cutely at you.

You sighed, chewing the cookie in your mouth anyway as you continued mixing till a small dough started to form. “But this doesn’t look right, Jeno,” you informed, moving the bowl closer to your boyfriend and using the spatula to prove your point. From what you two have seen on youtube, pizza dough was supposed to be stretchy and sticky like those pizza makers who flips the pizza in the air with their hands oh-so-majestically.

However, compared to those videos, your dough was more like a literal embodiment of your lives. The dough was hard and rigid like hard cookie dough. It was tearing apart like dried play doh with every turn of your spatula and the dough appeared to be way smaller than the humongous amount of flour you added previously. Which was a big problem.

“Fnafenthusiast has donated $2! Says ‘the dough looks dry asf, are you sure that’s not play doh?’”

Jeno glanced up at the laptop screen at this, furrowing his brows at the statement. “Hold your horses there, buddy. This is not play doh! I assure you, it just needs a bit more mixing. At least I think-” he scrunches his nose with crossed arms, causing you to raise a brow at him. “You ‘think’, huh?” you raised a brow at him, shaking your head as you proceeded to mix the dough, cringing internally at how the dough kept breaking apart.

“Jeno, I’m not kidding. The dough looks more broken than my old Nintendo DS,” you commented, causing Jeno to click his tongue in thought. “Maybe you just need to mix it even more? I mean, we’ve been following the recipe,” Jeno scratched the back of his neck as he held the bowl and leaned it closer to him. “The recipe filled with only ingredients and no other instructions whatsoever, you mean?” you said sarcastically.

“Hey, listen. I was writing an essay that night as well, my wrists were about to snap off if I wrote down the whole recipe-” Jeno was soon cut off when you quickly dipped your fingers into the opened packet of flour and smeared it across his face and hoodie. “Hey!” he exclaimed, wiping the powdery substance off of his cheeks with a frown on his face.

“Shut up,” you grinned before Jeno swiped his fingers against the counter which was still partially covered with flour and pinched your cheek eagerly. “I hate you so much,” he stated with a soft chuckle, his previously taken aback expression morphing into one filled with love and adoration. “Of course you do,” you nodded before looking at the camera while wiping the flour off of your cheeks, unaware that some of it was still staining your cheeks.

“Itsoraanchhey just donated $4! Says ‘snort the flour’” the speechbot said monotonously.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, definitely not doing that,” you looked down at the dough, mushing it around with the spatula. “This is a family friendly live stream, okay. No snorting here!” Jeno laughed, tutting as he waved his index finger at the audience. “Don’t do drugs kids!” you both exclaimed in unison, giving the camera enthusiastic jazz hands. “Or it’s jail time!” you added before snickering to yourselves.

“Where are we even going with this?” Jeno snorted.

“Time to knead the dough!” you exclaimed eagerly. To be honest you were waiting for this part since he told you that you were making pizza instead of chocolate balls. “Alright then. I’m going to go wash my hands again,” Jeno nodded, smacking his hands together as he walked towards the sink, letting you divide the dough in half with your wooden cooking utensil. “I’m sure this is enough, right?” you looked up at the camera with a nervous yet hopeful smile.

“c-sanshone just donated $5.66! Says ‘no’” the speech bot said, causing you to frown involuntarily.

“You guys really should learn to be supportive of other people’s goals. The point here is to have fun and to chat with all you lovely people,” you huffed, putting your hands on your hips sassily in an attempt to scold your viewers. “I thought the point of all this was so that we could eat something that isn’t frozen pre-made food,” Jeno jokes, waving his wet hands at you, causing water droplets to hit your cheeks at the rapid movement.

“That too,” you nodded with a small hum.

“Okay but let’s get these out of the way, first,” you started picking up the measuring cups lying around the counter and putting them back in their place as Jeno helps put back the leftover ingredients into the cabinets. “We should never open a restaurant,” you concluded, looking at the evenly divided dough that was barely holding itself together. “As much as it pains me to say, I agree,” Jeno nodded with a heavy sigh.

“Gordon Ramsey, we’ll make you proud someday,” Jeno cried dramatically, scrunching his face as he let out a fake sob, wiping invisible tears off of his cheeks. “Gordon Ramsay went ham on Mark’s cooking show, do you think he’ll give us mercy if we tweet out the current conditions of our dough?” you asked, kissing your teeth as you recalled the iconic tweet Gordon Ramsay himself made when he reacted to your friend cooking a sunny side up egg for the first time in his life.

“Xiaojun was holding a fire extinguisher. I’m sure he would be proud of us for making it this far without fucking it up too much,” he shrugged, examining the mess of state your kitchen was in. “Oh bless the lord, hope we don’t end up burning the house or breaking the oven,” you groaned to yourself, rubbing your forehead in distress before a sudden realisation washed over you.

“Jeno,” you called out with wide eyes. “Yeah?” Jeno replied shortly, scrolling through the crowded chat box on the laptop screen. “Have we preheated the oven?” you asked, slowly turning your head towards him to increase suspense. Jeno’s eyes went wide for a second and you swore you could hear Renjun singing ‘wae naneun neoreul mannaseo!” and Taeil singing ‘apado gwaenchana’ flamboyantly in the background.

“Fuck, I forgot!” Jeno exclaimed, watching you rush to the oven to adjust the settings. “I’m sorry!” he laughed, watching you fiddle with the settings before turning it on to preheat the oven. “Fuck,” you groaned, suppressing the urge to bang your head against the kitchen counter as your boyfriend continued to laugh behind you.

“Wait, how much was it again?” you asked, looking back at your boyfriend who quickly grabbed the piece of paper and squinted his eyes at it. “430 frames per secon- I mean, fahrenheit!” Jeno squeaked, coughing at his small mistake, causing you to chuckle. “Jeno this isn’t an animation video, also 430 frames is a lot,” you pressed the button to turn on the oven before smacking your hands together with a heavy sigh.

“I need a vacation after this whole video,” you grumbled as you stomped back over to the front of the camera.

“Too bad, love. It’s covid season, you’re not escaping me anytime soon,” he planted a loud wet smooch on your cheek, pulling you close against his side for a brief second before letting you go as if nothing had happened. “Let’s stop this tomfoolery and get back to work, shall we?” Jeno smiled with a clap of his hands, picking up the packet of flour you used earlier and dipping his fingers in to sprinkle some of it onto the kitchen counter.

“Salt bae, indeed,” you snickered, making Jeno pinch his fingers together in an attempt to mimic the said meme, eliciting small giggles from the both of you. “Oh my god, Jaemin’s going to fucking kill us,” he laughed, realising that he should’ve sprinkle on the cutting board displayed right in front of you instead of the counter. “At least we managed to have fun,” you waved it off casually, ignoring how panicked you actually were on the inside.

“Goodbye, midnight ramen. You will be missed,” Jeno patted his chest sadly, clutching the fabric as if he was the main character in a play with a tragic backstory.

“Kainoticedme just donated $7! Says ‘the motto of this whole stream should be Sometimes It’s Okay To Give Up’”

“Hey! What do you mean ‘give up’?” you retorted with a scoff, putting your hands on your hips. “No one’s giving up anything today, okay?” you exclaimed with a firm shake of your head. “What a pep talk,” Jeno clapped his hands unceremoniously as he stared at the camera with a deadpan expression. “Insert that meme of Lady Gaga saying a bunch of synonyms of ‘amazing’, please!” Jeno clapped his hands harder before taking a step back to dodge your soft smacks.

“Shut up!” you laughed, retracting your hand as your boyfriend dodged your hits before watching Jeno come up with the bowl filled with dough. A proud smile stretching across his lips as he rhythmically taps his fingers against the plastic bowl. “Okay, check this out!” he exclaimed, flipping the bowl over with no hesitation before shaking it when the dough wasn’t coming out. “Stop, Jeno, that’s not a macaron batter. Babe, it’s gonna-”

The dough flopped on the counter not-so-graciously when it finally pulled away from the bowl, making the flour go everywhere: on your clothes, faces and everywhere else on the counter. “Lee Jeno!” you exclaimed, your mouth gaping open as you patted your shirt to dust the flour away. “Y/N L/N!” he mimicked your tone teasingly with a boyish grin, wiping the flour off of his cheek before smearing it even more on your clothes.

“Stop! I didn’t bring a change of clothes!” you whined, swatting his hand away with a laugh. “Oh calm down, you drama queen. You can use my clothes after this,” he rolled his eyes at you, putting the bowl aside on the counter as you continued to complain and whine about how you’re never going to forgive him for ruining your favourite shirt. “You’re the drama queen!” you shot back with a finger pointing directly at him. “Why did you have to do that?” you exclaimed with a whine.

“Originality and creativity, love,” Jeno shrugged, collecting the dough and playing with the mixture innocently as if he hadn’t made a mess of the kitchen and your clothes for laughs. “I hate you,” you mumbled under your breath, taking a few steps back to dodge his upcoming kisses when he turned his body to face you. “Aw man, I wanted to kiss your floury face,” he pouted, causing your heart to skip a beat at his words.

“Later,” you rolled your eyes at him, letting him off the hook for being an idiot. An adorable idiot.

Wait no, YOUR adorable idiot.

“Okay let’s do some teamwork and knead the dough together!” Jeno exclaimed, pulling you alongside him in front of the camera before kneading the dough closest to him. “Why is this harder than it looks?” you snorted as you began to slowly massage the dough with your palms. “Shh!” Jeno shushed, his lips puckering as he made soft shushing noises. “Let the dough do it’s work, all you have to do is knead it to perfection,” he spoke softly.

“I highly doubt that,” Jeno added almost inaudibly, making you chuckle at your boyfriend. “I love how you’re just exaggerating and blowing things up out of proportion,” he commented, turning to look at you. You glanced up at him with a small hum, cocking your head to the side in confusion which made Jeno’s stomach do somersaults. “Originality and creativity, babe,” you quoted, giggling slightly.

“Please, Rie McClenny would be screaming in pain if she ever finds this video,” Jeno rolled his eyes before leaning close to the mic above the camera to whisper against it. “Tasty please sponsor me, I swear I won’t burn down the whole kitchen,” he whispered loudly, eliciting laughs from your audience. “Tasty, we’re open for sponsors or collabs!” you joined in on his little joke, tossing the dough up in the air before letting it flop down on the counter, inevitably making a larger mess.

“Hey! You’re copying me!” Jeno whined, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “How quaint,” you replied in a bittersweet tone, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before focusing on kneading the dough again. “That’s it.” Jeno stopped kneading his dough to cross his arms against his chest with a small pout on his lips. “I’m terminating our friendship!” he huffed, looking away from you childishly, trying not to crack up at his pathetic attempts to act cute.

“So? Do you prefer us to be lovers instead?” you mused, wiggling your eyebrows instead before laughing hard when you saw your boyfriend letting out a loud groan. “God, you’re annoying,” he laughed, slinging an arm around your waist to give you a small side hug before pulling away to continue punching the life out of his dough.

“Nimoncross has donated $10! Says ‘the amount of tik tok and meme references in this live stream is astronomical’”

“Couldn’t agree more,” you both sighed heavily. “Why is the dough sticking onto the counter?” you chuckled nervously, looking up at your boyfriend who was dealing with the same problem himself. “Just knead it a bit more? At least that’s what Jaemin said when we ran through the recipe,” Jeno scratched the back of his head in confusion, not acknowledging how he got flour on his hair again until you began to dust it off for him.

“Remember that video of Rie Mclenny cooking a pizza with zero waste?” you asked, turning to your boyfriend as you two began poking holes into the dough. “Not really, why?” he shook his head at you. “I remember her dough was super stretchy and squishy. Also her dough bounces back if you poke it, while ours… don’t. There’s something definitely wrong with our dough,” you laughed, wiping your hands against your white apron.

“Okay, that’s probably because we’re using a whole different recipe than hers,” Jeno shrugged carelessly as he continued to fiddle with the dough on the counter.

“Okay, but all jokes aside, it’s actually sticking to the counter. Jaemin’s going to fucking kill us,” Jeno stated with a light hearted laugh, pulling the dough back to bunch it up in his palms only for some of it to stick to the counter and tear apart. “Oh god, we’re never going to be allowed in this kitchen ever again,” you complained with a small whine, grabbing the bowl you set aside and putting your doughs back in.

“I think it’s best we leave those be till we decide what to do with them,” Jeno said, turning to wash his hands in the sink with you right behind him. “Leeteukspeaks has donated $8! Says ‘add more flour, oml. We’ve been telling you this for the past fifteen minutes!’” the speech bot said, attracting your attention back to the camera as you walked back to the counter. “Add more flour?” you asked, looking at the sticky doughs in the bowl with an unsure expression.

“If I remember correctly, it’s supposed to be like that, we just gotta let it rest,” Jeno said, cracking his knuckles as he spoke. “Chill out, chat. We know what we’re doing. My restaurant is a five star restaurant, just trust the process,” Jeno assured the audience who just continued to spam the chat box with a series of ‘no’s and ‘you guys are idiots, listen to us!’.

“Though, we got to leave it to rest for a whole hour. So,” he reached over to the other side of the counter where another bowl was wrapped with a sheet of plastic wrap over it and plopping it down in front of the camera. “We prepared another bowl that’s already been sitting for the past hour,” he grinned, causing you to furrow your brows and dilate your pupils at the bowl in his hands.

‘Where the fuck did that bowl come from?’ you thought to yourself but you didn’t want to think of it too much. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can log off and sleep. “If you guys saw my instagram story and my snapchat, you guys would’ve seen this coming,” Jeno grinned, shaking the bowl in his hand. “So this is what you were doing while I was writing my essay?” you asked with a chuckle, fidgeting with the plastic wrapper around the corners of the bowl.

Jeno hummed in response, giving you a cute eye smile as he lets you pull the plastic wrap away from the bowl. “Though it seems like the yeast didn’t rise,” you stated, poking a finger on the dough to see if it will bounce back. “This live stream is a very shitty version of a cooking mama game,” you mumbled under your breath which made Jeno laugh. “Babe, hush, you want to get this over with right?” he asked with a smug expression, putting his hand in the bowl to poke it as well.

“danishyi has donated $4! Says ‘Gordon Ramsay would not be proud right now’”

“What are you talking about? Gordon Ramsay is loving this. In fact, I showed him the dough earlier on twitter and he said it was way better than his! Right y/n?” Jeno nudged you with an amused voice, making you give him a deadpan expression, scrunching your nose in fake disgust as you slowly nodded to please your boyfriend. “Whatever you say, babe,” you agreed, going along with his joke.

“Alright, let’s get the dough out-”

“Wait, at least let me sprinkle more flour first, Jeno!” you halted him midway from scooping out the dough to quickly fetch the flour packet and sprinkle in some flour on the counter, inevitably making an even more larger mess in the kitchen. “Right, shit, sorry,” he giggled before putting the dough on the counter and using a knife to divide the dough in half.

“Damn, this is really oily.” you stated, starting to fold the dough over itself and ignoring the weird feeling that comes with touching the oily surface. “No shit, we added virgin oil, babe,” Jeno snickered with a shake of his head, following your actions with his own dough. “Did Jaemin help you with this?” you asked, looking up at him for a brief moment before starting to knead and massage your dough.

“Nope, he refused to help. He had some hope that I won’t burn down the kitchen if I do it myself,” he shook his head, flipping the dough upside down before pressing holes with his fingers. “That’s unfortunate, wait until he finds out you trashed the kitchen instead,” you chuckled, earning a soft glare from the boy beside you. “Hey, at least I didn’t burn it down like he hoped, give me a break.” He sighed exasperatedly.

“Wait so what are you going to do with the other dough that we made? You can’t possibly throw it out, right? That thing’s our new baby now,” you joked, pointing a finger at the bowl filled with the dough you made earlier. Jeno turned his head at the bowl before looking down at the camera with a boyish smile, “so you actually want to start a family with me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you before earning a soft push from you.

“You dumbass, be serious!” you groaned, suppressing a smile as you felt your heart skip a beat at the mention of starting a family with Jeno. “I can’t be Sirius, I’m Jeno,” Jeno said with a smug expression before letting out a squeal and running out of the camera view when he saw you lift your dough up in your palm threateningly as if you were going to throw it at him like a frisbee.

“I knew it was a mistake to watch Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban today,” you snorted, putting your dough down as Jeno walked back towards you with loud giggles. “I swear we’re never going to get this done,” you groaned, putting your elbows on the flour-covered counter, ignoring how the white powder clung onto the fabric of your shirt as you groaned, suppressing the need to bang your head against the wall.

“Look at the bright side, baby. At least you’re spending quality time with your precious boyfriend, right everyone?” his eyes lit up as he stared back at the camera, receiving enthusiastic responses of agreements from the chat box and the speech bot. “Bright side, huh?” you chuckled, standing up straight to stretch your back as you continued kneading your dough. “I think that’s enough kneading!” you ignored your pouting boyfriend to take a step back and admire your work, putting your hands on your hips proudly as if you just found the key to ending World Hunger.

“So do we combine our doughs together and shape the dough or what?” you asked, hearing Jeno hum in thought. “How about you knead our dough together and I’ll find the toppings we need for our pizza?” he suggested, causing you to frown. He gave you an innocent grin, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead before giving you his usual puppy eyes, the one you couldn’t say no to, which caused you to frown even deeper.

You groaned, sighing deeply and dramatically before nodding. “You’re lucky I love you too much,” you mumbled under your breath, pressing a small kiss on his cheek gingerly before coming up to the counter to mix both of your doughs together. “Hey, I made this dough all by myself, you don’t get to complain shit!” he laughed, running off to ask Jaemin where he usually puts the other ingredients. “We could’ve had a higher rate of success if we’d just stuck to making chocolate balls!” you yelled, using all of your remaining strength to knead the dough.

You didn’t know if Jeno ignored you or didn’t hear you because he didn’t respond back as he jogged to his roommate’s room. But you clicked your tongue and proceeded to flatten the dough out and make somewhat of a circular shape and folded over the dough for a thick crust, pinching your fingers to make the dough stick to itself as you spread it out. “Okay, so this looks more like a pizza now, right?” you asked, looking up at the camera.

“Now we’re just going to flat the dough out evenly, just like that!” you exclaimed, smacking the dough with your hand before looking at the laptop screen, watching as your audience continued to spill in jokes and words in caps lock in the chat. You purse your lips before continuing on shaping the pizza as Jeno then finally walked back into the kitchen and began opening the fridge and the cabins, pulling out some marinara sauce and some cheese.

“Seriously, that’s it?” you asked, raising your brows at the containers in his hands. “Yeah, basically. What? You want to add pineapples on it or something?” he raised his brow at you as the corners of his lips quirked up into a teasing smile. “Ew, no, stop,” you fake gagged at him, causing Jeno to giggle as he popped the lid of the marinara sauce open with his hands.

“Watch as Gordon Ramsay knocks on that door just to call us an idiot sandwich,” you snickered pointing at the door with a flour covered finger, making Jeno laugh, shaking his head at your nonsense. “Excuse you, if anything he’s going to praise us for making this delicious cuisine,” Jeno hesitated on the last part of his sentence when he took a look at your kitchen. “Are you sure this is cuisine? This radiates the same vibe as Hyuck eating ramen without cooking it,” you cringed internally.

“Floofybunbun has donated $3! Says ‘USE A ROLLING PIN, NOT YOUR HANDS!’”

Your heads shot up at this before exchanging confused glances. “A rolling pin?” you both asked in unison. “Do you even have a rolling pin here?” you asked as you and Jeno glanced around and started opening drawers and cupboards to search for one. “I don’t think so. Then, again, we’re broke college students I’m surprised we even have fucking mozzarella cheese in this place,” Jeno picked up the small container of shredded mozzarella before dropping it down carelessly on the counter.

“Okay, we gotta improvise then,” you huffed, looking around for any object that could be used to roll out your dough before you spotted Jaemin’s reusable starbucks cup. “This!” you exclaimed, rushing to take it in your hands and showing it to the camera. “I know, this isn’t a rolling pin, guys. But it could be if you just imagine it,” you grinned, ignoring Jeno’s gaping expression as he felt his skin run cold. “Do you have a death wish?” Jeno laughed nervously.

“Jaemin’s going to make us wish we were never born if anything happens to his favourite cup,” Jeno picked the cup from your hands and keeping it away from your reach by stretching his arm above his head when you attempted to snatch it back. “Come on, Jeno. Life is boring without a little danger,” you teased, stepping on your tippy toes to reach his arm but failing to no avail.

“Just use that pringles container,” Jeno cocked his head to the direction of his collection of snacks on the counter right below the cupboard out of the camera’s view. You glanced at the treat before raising your brow. “Wouldn’t the dough stick to the paper-ish surface?” you asked with a raised brow, making Jeno sigh in defeat. “Fuck, right,” he handed you back the cup, letting you roll the dough out evenly with the cup.

“Jaemin’s going to get so mad,” you laughed, humming a merry tune as you thinned out the dough, staining the cup with flour with every roll of your hands. “No shit,” Jeno huffed, leaning his head down in distress as he let out a loud chuckle.

“Itsokayman has donated $10! Says ‘the fact that you aren’t using a rolling pin physically hurts me”

“Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Everyone here watching the chat can relate to you, right now,” you and Jeno chuckled, stretching a hand to gesture at the camera. “That includes us, as well,” Jeno added with a tight-lipped smile, widening his eyes dramatically. “Wrap it up, Mike Wazoski,” you twisted your index finger in horizontal motions, laughing at your own joke.

“You did not just disrespect my man, Mike like that-”

“Anyways!” you cut him off abruptly, ignoring the pout he gave you afterwards. “The dough is falling apart but fuck it, it’s been thirty minutes since the live started and as much as I love talking to you guys I’m hungry,” you smiled, putting your hands on your hips once again with Jeno laughing behind you. “How straight forward,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and leaning his chin against your shoulder, leaning his head against yours and nuzzling against your hair.

“Honesty is the best policy, babe,” you pressed a butterfly kiss on his nose before getting back to forming the crust with your fingers, Jeno still clinging to your back like an adorable koala as he watched you with loving eyes.

“Tenshi-chanxx has donated $6! Says ‘stop ignoring us and listen! We’re trying to help you, the dough is literally falling apart. We won’t know what’s going to happen to your little play doh if you put it in the fucking oven!’”

You both looked up at his, eyes blowing wide before sharing the same flabbergasted expressions before turning to the camera and shaking your heads. “No,” you both said monotonously in unison before going back to your dough and laughing it out. “We’re just here to have some fun,” you shrugged at the camera with a casual expression. “Even if we end up going to our own funerals after this,” Jeno added with a harsh gulp.

“Okay, so now. We’re going to add this little baby,” you outstretched your arm to reach the marinara sauce, showing it to the camera and turning your head to look at your boyfriend with a small smile. “Can you open this please?” you asked in the most kindest tone you could muster, internally wincing at how cringey you sounded. He laughed at your pathetic attempts to use a sweet tone but nods nonetheless, releasing his tight grasp on your waist to open the jar of sauce with a small ‘pop’.

“Here you go,” he handed you back the jar before leaning his hands on the counter, not taking his eyes off of you. “Now, you’re gonna wanna put it like it’s mayo,” Jeno explained, pointing at the pizza dough as you grabbed two clean spoons from one of the drawers and handing it to him. “That’s a terrible reference,” you snickered, scooping a spoonful of the sauce and dumping it on the dough, tapping it against it to make sure all the sauce slips down.

“Shut up, baby, I’m doing an explanation here. Like those animal documentaries in Nat Geo Wild,” Jeno chuckles, scooping a spoonful of sauce himself and mirroring your actions, spreading it all over the pizza with a click of his tongue. “You got to make sure to spread it nice and evenly to get more flavor,” Jeno stuck his tongue out in the corners of his mouth in concentration as you two spread the sauce all around the dough.

You couldn’t hold in your laugh as he continued to do those monotone voices wildlife documentary narrators often use on TV. “I’m sorry but this looks like something out of an accident,” you laughed, pointing at the messy pizza on the counter. “It actually does. Oh shit, it actually fucking does,” Jeno puts a hand to his mouth to conceal his shock as he howled out laughing. “This was a whole mess,” you put your spoon back in the sink with a wheeze.

“Please, just cut the cameras already,” you clutched your stomach as it was starting to hurt from laughing too much. “The show must go on, y/n! Get a hold of yourself, my love!” Jeno said dramatically, grabbing some water to clear his throat as he continued to laugh with you. “We should be cast in a new ratatouille movie,” you snorted, wiping an invisible tear. “Or a new bee movie,” Jeno added with a soft chortle, handing you his own spoon.

“Disney, hit us up!” you gave the camera a dramatic finger gun, causing Jeno to double over laughing. “We’re open for sponsors, Disney! Emails and shit will be down in the description box below!” you gave them an awkward smile and jazz hands to add more flavor to your grand advertisement. “Yeah, don’t do that again. At this point, we’re never going to get sponsored by Disney nor Gordon Ramsey,” Jeno pressed a soft kiss to the corners of your lips, making you pout at his words.

“It’s a hard knock life,” you sang under your breath.

“For us,” he finished.

“Anyways! Why do we keep saying ‘anyways’?” you both couldn’t stop laughing the more you see your failure of a pizza. “You all know chefs make mistakes from time to time right? So we- more specifically, I came up with a back up plan. A plan B basically,” he marched unceremoniously to the fridge, opening the freezer and poking his head in. “Jeno don’t tell me you have another secret batch in there. We don’t have enough friends to poison if these doughs don’t turn out good,” you teased, turning on the tap and running your hands under the water to wash off any dough left in between your fingers.

Jeno then pulled out his supposed ‘plan B’ which turns out to be a box of frozen pizza he bought from the supermarket the other day. “Classic pepperoni pizza,” you read the label aloud with a soft giggle. “I don’t think that’s going to compare to the exquisite meal we made here, Jeno,” you gestured to the sloppy deformed pizza on your counter, which made Jeno snort. “Facts,” he agreed with a soft chuckle.

“I knew this pizza would come in handy. Now let’s compare this to our own pizza here,” he grinned, opening the pizza box and pulling the plastic wrapped food out of the box, setting it down beside your own pizza. The frozen pizza in comparison was making your homemade pizza feel like a shrivelled old 6000 year old snail and you didn’t know whether to cry or laugh about it.

“Out of context, if we ever decide to join a Master Chef competition. No guaranteed, with this lovely pizza of ours? We’re going to be the next Gordon Ramsay and rule the goddamn world,” you almost choked on your own spit as you laughed, Jeno shaking his head at you with a wide smile on his face. “I live for your sarcasm,” he reached over to pinch your cheeks gingerly, cooing softly at you.

“Come on, compared to our pizza. You can tell which one is better,” you said in a proud tone as if you weren’t on the brink of crying out of embarrassment now. Watching Jeno rip the plastic packaging open and pulling out the pizza, you couldn’t help but make more sardonic jokes about your own creation, amusing your audience as those who donated expressed their thoughts over the speech bot.

“Since we don’t have pepperoni in this house, we’re just going to borrow some from this pizza right here,” Jeno pulls out some chopsticks from God knows where and started picking up a few pepperonis from the frozen pizza, placing them right on top of the marinara sauce spread sloppily on your pizza dough. “Jeno I- you know you could just use other alternatives than just straight up stealing pepperonis from the frozen one?” you said incredulously with a slight laugh

“We’re professionals, y/n. If we don’t have a certain ingredient, we improvise,” he grinned cheekily, making you roll your eyes. “You could add the leftover sausages from the fridge and yet you decide to steal the pepperoni, real professional, Jeno,” you nodded with crossed arms as Jeno neatly arranged the pepperonis on your pizza. “Also why are you making the pepperonis stand up on the dough?” you asked, pointing at the vertical pepperonis piling up on the dough.

“Originality and creativity,” he stated without hesitation.

“Just so you know, neither of these pizzas are safe for human consumption,” you stated, pointing to the two pizzas on the counter. “Oh yeah, definitely. That’s the exact reason why I chose this for today’s Christmas cooking livestream,” Jeno nodded in agreement, giving you a small thumbs up before giving a small clap. “But honestly, what is safe for human consumption in this world?” he asked with a questioning look, waving his hand to the side as he furrowed his brows and gave the camera a ‘duh’ look.

“Cheese!” you exclaimed eagerly out of random, putting your hands on the counter with an excited smile. Jeno furrowed his brows at you. “Aren’t some people lactose intolerant?” he asked, receiving a deadpan expression from you . “No, you idiot. I meant, it’s time to pour the cheese!” you snatched the small container filled with shredded mozzarella behind him and waved it in front of the camera.

“Right. I forgot, I knew the pizza was missing something,” Jeno puts his palm against his forehead, shaking his head in disappointment as he lets out small chuckles. “How could you forget the star of the show?” your eyes grew wide at him, putting your hand on your chest as you looked at him in an almost offended expression. “Honestly, Jeno, I expected better from you,” you shook your head, making small ‘tsk’ sounds under your breath.

Jeno rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead gently before giving you a sweet smile. “Whatever, just pour as much cheese as you want so we can quickly pop these in the oven,” Jeno giggled, watching you rub the slightly sore spot on your forehead as you gave him a threatening glare. “I hate you,” you opened the container with a huff, putting your fingers in before generously sprinkling the cheese all over the pizza.

“I love how the chat box exploded with the word ‘cheese’,” you snickered, pointing at the laptop screen. “Jaemin and his lactose intolerant ass is probably crying right now,” Jeno added, nodding in amusement as he dipped his hand in the container to sprinkle more cheese himself. “That is, if he’s watching,” you chuckled, looking up at your boyfriend’s handsome face. “I pray to God he isn’t,” he added with a nervous laugh.

The oven then made a loud ‘beep’ to signal that it’s already preheated, causing you and Jeno to cheer loudly as your audience prays for the safety of Jeno and Jaemin’s apartment. “Oh, yay! Finally!” you cheered, walking over to open one of the cabins to pull out a long tray for your pizzas. “Okay, so we finally get to the interesting part of this whole live stream!” you exclaimed, placing the tray carefully in front of the pizza. “Not really,” you added quickly.

“Anyways, which pizza shall we try first?” you asked, pointing at the two uncooked pizzas on the kitchen counter. “Our baby or the store bought one?” you asked, pointing at the two pizzas to emphasize on your words. “Why not both?” Jeno asked with a raised brow, handing you a glass of water out of nowhere. “Drink water, kids !” he gave an enthusiastic thumbs up at the camera as you casually took the glass from him and gulped it down without hesitation.

“Alright then, both!” you agreed with a nod, placing your small pizza dough carefully on the tray, watching as bits of shredded cheese fell off of the corners of your pizza. “Fuck, the floor is literallt a mess right now,” Jeno chuckled, taking a step back to examine the state of your floor, internally noting to himself how much of struggle it’ll be to clean all this up later. “Just like our pizza right here,” you smiled awkwardly at the camera as you struck a pose with your sloppy pizza on the tray.

“Brookestoresle has donated $7! Says ‘SPRAY THE DAMN PAN!’”

“Spray the pan?” you repeated in a questioning tone, a perplexed expression glossing over both of your features. “What do you mean ‘spray the pan’? What is it for?” Jeno asked, looking through the comments to see if anyone could elaborate on that. “Do we spray it with Windex or something? What are we supposed to spray it with, exactly?” you said, half jokingly. “Definitely,” Jeno nodded, laughing at your suggestion.

“rouroul3l3 has donated $5! Says ‘put a fucking cooking spray. Put a fucking cooking spray before you pop it in the oven, idiots’”

“Oh. Right!” you both exclaimed in unison, running around the kitchen to find some cooking spray. “Do you even have cooking spray?” you exclaimed, shutting the drawers close as you came back to the camera’s line of vision. “Uh,” Jeno paused for a second before walking out of the camera view and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Jaemin! Do we have cooking spray?” he ran over to his roommate’s room once again.

In the distance you can hear Jaemin’s door being slammed open by either the man himself or your boyfriend. “What do you want now, Jeno?!” he exclaimed loudly, loud enough for you and the microphone to pick up, that is. “Do we have cooking spray?” Jeno’s voice was barely audible to the viewers, but luckily, you adjusted the mic so they could hear the conversation they were having. “No, we don’t. Could you two keep it down? I’m almost done editing my video,” Jaemin groaned.

“Okay, okay. But what should we use since we don’t have cooking spray?” Jeno asked once again, pushing on the poor boy’s buttons as you stared at the camera with an amused expression, trying hard not to burst out laughing. “I don’t know, just melt some butter or something,” was the last thing you heard before Jaemin’s door slammed shut, causing you to finally burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jeno chuckled, jogging over to pinch your cheeks as you continued to laugh. “So we don’t have cooking spray?” you teased before Jeno gave you an incredulous scoff. “I know for a fact you heard Jaemin yelling at the top of his lungs so don’t you even dare ask that question!” Jeno giggled, waving his index finger at you disappointingly. “I’m just kidding,” you smacked his hand away before grabbing some butter from the fridge.

“Let’s just put this in the oven for it to melt for about five-ish minutes,” Jeno said, carefully pulling the dough from the tray for you to spread butter all over it. He placed the dough back on the counter before lifting the tray and putting it in the oven, clasping his hands together loudly before turning to look at the laptop screen in front of the two of you. “Now we wait!” he exclaimed with a bright, tight-lipped smile.

“Wafflesisyou has donated $9! Says ‘You could’ve used olive oil, you know’”

You and Jeno froze in place as if your brains short circuited for a brief second before laughing it off casually. “You guys could’ve told us that earlier, it’s too late now. The pan is in the oven, there’s no turning back now,” you said in a sinister voice, laughing nervously as you moved over to peek at the tray through the door of the oven. “Like I said before, originality and creativity. We’re coming up with new scientific methods to cook our pizza,” Jeno added with an innocent smile.

You then grabbed a wet rag and opened the oven, pulling the tray out to show the camera that the butter has melted completely. “Okay, so now that that’s done. How do we fit two pizzas in one tray? That’s literally the only tray we have in this house,” Jeno pointed at the pizza then pointed at the tray as you carefully placed the hot tray on the counter near the pizza. “Uh, the store-bought one is a little too big,” you laughed, lifting the cold circular pizza to make a point before putting it back down on the counter,

“Does anyone have any advice? We really need your help on this one, chat,” Jeno giggled, dusting off the flour on his clothes. “‘Cut it’,” you read aloud, squinting your eyes at the chat box before humming. “Don’t you have a pizza cutter somewhere?” you asked causing Jeno to start looking around the drawers once again. “We really should have prepared this earlier. It’s been an hour and a half since the live stream started and we spent most of the live being idiots,” Jeno mumbled aloud, causing you to laugh. “Summary of our relationship, really,” you shrugged at the camera.

Pulling out a clean pizza cutter, Jeno raised it up like an adorable child and hopped on over beside you with a small ‘found it!’ coming from his lips. “You’re so adorable,” you gushed, you couldn’t help but reach over and pinch your boyfriend’s cheeks gingerly, causing him to swat your hand away with a roll of his eyes. He then cut the pizza in half before placing it at the edge of the tray, putting your smaller one right beside it.

“There! It fits!” he exclaimed. “Finally!” you groaned, grabbing the wet rag you previously tossed away when no one was looking and lifted the tray up. “Now to bake in the microwave! Gordon Ramsay, we’ll make you proud!” Jeno beamed, watching as you pushed the tray into the oven and pressed some buttons to turn it on and start the timer.

“You know that cooking show where people who are like- the worst cooks known to mankind are featured on? I believe there was a girl who cut an avocado along with the seed with a knife as if it was butter? I really do believe we have the potential of being the winners of that show,” you put your hands up in exhaustion, making Jeno wheeze and clutch his stomach in pain as he continued to laugh hard.

“The Worst Cooks In America was by far the most interesting cooking video in my youtube recommended feed,” Jeno wiped his tears away as he continued to laugh at your jokes. “Stop or else I’m kicking you out of the live stream,” Jeno threatened weakly, composing himself for a brief moment before meeting your eyes which were glinting in amusement. “Oh, really?” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively at him before snorting at your own cringey actions.

“I’m never doing that again,” you wheezed out. “Please do,” Jeno nodded in agreement as the viewers continued to watch you read comments and joke around while waiting for the pizzas to finally cook. At some point you and Jeno started sword fighting with cooking utensils on camera with your viewers commenting either how you were going to break your cooking utensils or supporting you individually in said battle.

But nonetheless it was still a funny moment considering Jeno whipped out a cutting board from the counter behind him to use as a shield. You ended up losing and Jeno insisted that you kissed the winner as the prize. But unfortunately for him, you were too much of a troll to give your viewers the satisfaction of seeing the two of you kiss on camera so you tugged him by the collar of his shirt and took a few steps back to give him his prize.

“Pizza’s ready!” you exclaimed, pulling away from Jeno who seemed to be in a daze after kissing you for a solid fifteen seconds as you ran up to the oven. Grabbing some gloves from the cupboard above you, you slipped them on and pulled out the pizzas with a proud smile etched across your face. “Voila!” you did a chef’s kiss as you plopped the tray down on the counter, adjusting the camera so your viewers could have a magnificent view of the cheese bubbling on the pizza.

“Bon appétit!" Jeno said, wiping the remnants of your lip gloss from his mouth as he walked back into the camera’s view. Glitter spread all around his mouth as he gave a boyish smile at the camera, waving at it as if nothing had happened behind the camera. “Okay, but- damn! It smells so good in here,” Jeno gasped as you sliced a piece or two of your pizza and placed it on a clean white plate with a confirmed nod. “Agreed. I actually take what I said back, this actually doesn’t look too bad,” you admitted with a sigh, handing him a plate before raising yours at the camera.

“This looks exquisite if I do say so myself,” Jeno picked up the pizza with his fingers, examining it. “Actually, it’s kind of burnt a little on the bottom but I loved how it turned out!” Jeno’s eyes twinkled with joy once he realised you two didn’t fuck up too badly in this cooking live stream. “I still would have preferred it if we made chocolate balls instead,” you muttered under your breath, receiving a glare from Jeno.

“Maybe next year,” he joked before taking a bite out of the pizza, humming in delight.

“Is it actually good? “ you asked him.

“A little undercooked, but it’s actually really good! ”

You gaped, leaning your head to the side in wonder as you watched him nod eagerly. You opened your mouth at him, gesturing for him to feed you as you let out a soft ‘ah!’. Jeno smiled, leaning his hands forward to put the plate under your chin and the pizza into your mouth, letting you take a big bite out of it. You chewed for a small moment, feeling Jeno’s eyes on you curiously.

You hummed as your eyes lit up in surprise, nodding as you gave him a thumbs up. “It’s rather burnt, but it’s not that bad! It has my seal of semi-approval!” you gave the camera a small thumbs up before, picking up your own plate which was supposed to be the store bought pizza. “Now let’s try this one!” you turned your plate around to let the viewers drool over your premade pizza before taking a bite out of it, not forgetting to feed Jeno as well.

You and Jeno hummed in unison, nodding as you both internally agreed that this pizza was way better than yours.

“The store bought one tasted like trash,” you said to the camera. “Ours was definitely better,” Jeno nodded, going along with your joke as you both continued to eat the store bought pizza together in front of the camera. “Ladies and Gentlemen, our recipe is a ten out of ten! We did it!” you both clapped graciously to your own success, cheering as if you just won the lottery and ignoring how Jaemin’s muffled shouts for you two to shut up fell deaf in your ears.

You coughed, grabbing a glass of water as Jeno continued to eat the pizza. He then decided it was your cue to end the live stream together. “Okay guys, it’s time for us to head out,” he started, dusting the crumbs off of his hands as he placed the half eaten pizza back on the plate. “Thank you so much for watching this stream! This video will be reuploaded to youtube for those who missed out on this chaotic adventure!” you announced with a clap, giving your boyfriend a glass of water for him to drink.

“Thank you for donating and thank you for guiding us in our cooking journey. And most of all, thank you for being here and have a good night!” Jeno finished as you both waved at the camera enthusiastically with wide smiles before you clicked on your mouse to end the live stream with a high pitched “see you guys later!”

Jenogames has uploaded a new video!

Itshaechanyoursun has commented : Nobody:

Literally nobody:

Jeno: origintality and creativity.

Itshaechanyoursun has replied: *originality

Jenogames has replied: if you’re gonna clown me at least spell correctly

y/nisfunny: this was a terrible idea.

y/nisfunny: let’s make chocolate balls next!

Jenogames has replied: Babe, ily BUT NO

Nanaplays has commented: JENO YOU DID NOT JUST LET YOUR GIRLFRIEND USE MY NEW STARBUCKS CUP

DancingPWARK has commented: As a boy who only cooks instant ramen for a living, this video made me feel like I could be the next Gordon Ramsey

Jenogames has replied: AIGHT BET

Conspiracieswithyaboi has commented: the donations you made in this stream should be used for you guys to take culinary classes, this whole video was painful to watch

Leleflex has commented: F to the chocolate balls y/n never got to make

y/nisfunny has replied: THIS.

Markleevlogs has commented: Burn this.

TAGLIST: @moonbeamsung @hansolstea

a/n: LMAO WHAT IS THIS FIC

#NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #neo-constellations #neoculturecafe #nct x reader #nct jeno x reader #nct dream jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #jeno fluff #nct u x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream scenaios #lee jeno scenarois #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios

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