#the fact that she keeps talking about butterflies in her stomach when pepper's around.

[morninkim]

everyone SHUT UP RIGHT NOW!!!!!

pepper and shadowheart :))

[mystoz]

hey there! could i have an angie yonaga x gn!reader prompt where angie falls in love w/ reader and starts to get a bit more clingy and affectionate with them before confessing her love?

— epiphany of love.

A/N: AAA ANON IM SO SORRY THAT THIS REQUEST IS SO LATE !!! yonaga is such a delight to write for, such a sweetie !! again, im so sorry that this is late. moving forward, i hope you enjoy !!

SYNOPSIS: headcanons for yonaga angie becoming clingy whilst falling in love with you.

PAIRING: yonaga angie x gn! reader 

CONTENT WARNINGS: religious talk

WORD COUNT: 636

ADDITIONAL INFO: reader is gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns

to fall for angie yonaga is like riding a rollercoaster.

there are many unexpected twists and turns that will leave your heart dropping down to your stomach, but will leave your heart racing and mind fuzzy, cherishing the experience for a long time.

yonaga is such a sweetheart !!

she loves holding your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours and putting her free palm atop your guys’ hands

she loves to kiss you !! both before and after dating, kissing you is everything she lives for

kisses all over !! she’ll squish your cheeks together softly and bring you close to her face and just begin peppering kisses all on your face, smothering you with nothing but love and adoration

one of her limbs has to be touching you at all times. her hand on your shoulder, arm linked with yours, you name it !! she is always attached to you somehow

she’s quite touchy in general with everyone, so to you, it would be no surprise that she was so touchy with you

her peers think otherwise

it turns out, yonaga’s not this touchy with everyone.

her classmates will point out the fact that she doesn’t hold everyone else’s hands, let alone kiss them

but you dont pay mind to it, using the excuse that you two just happen to be closer

…they all mentally facepalm at your obliviousness to figure it out.

(yonaga secretly does too, but she’ll never tell you that.)

oh my, she absolutely loves nicknames.

she has so many for you, it’s hard to keep track of them all.

her favorites consist of ‘my treasure, sunshine, dearest, beloved, my prince/princess/highness, sweetie, my beautiful, and my butterfly’

she makes sure to refer to you as one of these daily

if you listen to yonaga’s religious rants or support her in her consistent praise in atua, she’ll fall for you harder

she makes a valiant attempt to tone down her religious practices for you because she’s aware of the fact that it can get annoying quite fast, but she finds that you always listen

she’ll never tell you, but she’s so grateful that you listen to her rambling. the last thing she would want to be is a burden to you, so it fills her with happiness to know that you’ll listen to her

when it comes to confessions, it won’t take much time for yonaga to tell you her true feelings

but when the time does eventually come, she is such a nervous wreck.

she’s so scared she’ll mess it up and scare you away somehow

so she inevitably does it over text. it’s not the glamorous gesture she wishes she could do for you, but she still manages to get her message across

‘ y/n, would you allow angie speak to you about something? ’ ‘ of course! what did you want to talk about? ’ ‘ well, in actuality, it’s more angie telling you something. angie will just tell you head on! ’ ‘ you can tell me anything angie :) what is it? ’ ‘ this has been on angie’s mind for a while now, but angie would just like to tell you that she likes you more than the platonic relation! it is quite alright if y/n doesn’t reciprocate these feelings, angie just wanted to let you know (●^∀^)♡ ’ ‘ really? ang, of course i reciprocate your feelings. i like you a lot too <3 ’ ‘ ah! that is a delight to hear!! well, angie isso glad angie has the pleasure to call you hers <3 ’

you two start dating not long after, and are quite definitely the cutest couple around.

falling for yonaga angie is a cherished moment in your lifetime that you forever hold dear to you. hold angie close to your heart, she is a sweetheart and will give you all your hearts desire.

[goldentournesol]

Operation Make Believe

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Spencer and Reader go undercover as a couple at a fancy restaurant to catch a prolific unsub.

Length: 5k 

A/N: enjoy this lil fic while i take a short break from my series :D

masterlist

“Okay, so we’re looking for a guy who targets rich heterosexual couples.” Morgan stated from his seat at the round table. Looking at the photos almost made Y/N sick, she nervously twirled one of her rings around her pointer finger.

“He’s quite violent, too. Removing the men’s fingernails and chopping off the women's’ hair? That’s a pretty specific signature.” Emily spoke, glancing at the file.

“So let me get this straight, this man has killed 7 couples and we’re hearing about this just now?” Rossi questioned with indignance.

“Unfortunately, local PD has found it incredibly difficult to track this unsub down. That’s why we’re being called in.” Hotch replied, without even a twitch to his brow.

“So the guy’s good, how are we gonna get him?” JJ asked, leaning back in her chair.

“We know he frequents the local high-end restaurants because that’s where he picks his couples, he almost always picks victims who have just gone to dinner together, judging by the contents of their stomachs thanks to the autopsy reports. We should canvas the restaurants first and ask waiters if they find anyone suspicious. After that, we are sending in two undercover agents to try and lure him out.” Hotch explained and then a short silence ensued.

Y/N looked up from her file to find most of the team’s eyes on either her or Reid, “What?”

“You and Reid are the obvious candidates.” Hotch put it simply. Y/N glanced at Reid nervously, who happened to look just as nervous as she felt. He cleared his throat.

“Can I ask why us?” Spencer inquired.

“You two are the most compatible, considering your friendship and how close you are in age, and it would look the most realistic. We need to be as realistic as possible with this unsub, he is extremely picky. Make it believable. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch answered, straightening the files on the table and promptly leaving the conference room.

Spencer and Y/N both flushed and avoided each other’s gazes until they were on the jet.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay with this? I’m sure Hotch would understand if you’re not.” Spencer leaned over to ask softly once the briefing had ended and everyone settled in for the flight. Y/N looked from the window to him.

“No, yeah, yeah, I’m totally fine with it. I was just a little nervous because I haven’t gone undercover before, but how hard can it be, right?” She sent him a small smile and a shrug, hoping it would hide the nerves.

It turned out to be very hard.

Standing in front of a gross bathroom mirror in a police precinct, she analyzed herself in her fancy dress and elaborate makeup and some part of her found herself wishing it was real. All of it. She wondered what it would be like to actually go on a romantic date with Spencer. If she was being honest, it wasn’t her first time wondering that. Not long after she’d joined the team, she found herself growing more and more attracted to a certain endearing genius. At first it started as a normal friendship, but then he got too sweet, too good to be true. She found herself living in daydreams with him too often. Those daydreams never quite disappeared, they just seemed to permeate other aspects of her life.

Love made you stupid, she was aware. There was not a single moment that passed by that she wasn’t thinking of Spencer. She couldn’t help it, she was like a moth drawn to a flame. Except the flame was Spencer, and she’d never wanted to be burned so badly before. But she’d learned to suppress her feelings. They were coworkers and close friends after all. A romantic involvement could ruin both those relationships if it ended badly.

But now her team was depending on her to act extremely in love with Spencer and she wasn’t sure she could do it without actually raising suspicion to the fact that it was real the entire time. So it’s safe to say she was panicking a little.

“Y/N? We’re ready, you feeling okay?” Emily stuck her head in through the door to ask.

“Huh? Oh yeah, totally ready. I’ll be right out.” Y/N checked her makeup, made sure her earpiece was well hidden, and adjusted her fancy dress to hide her firearm one last time before stepping out. Across the room, Derek immediately finished up his conversation with one of the local officers just to walk over and provide her with a whistle of approval.

“Damn, Y/L/N! Looking good!” Derek outwardly announced, making her cheeks redden immediately.

“Oh shut up, Morgan, I’m still armed.” Y/N snapped back, although he was unable to take her seriously with her flushed features. He sent her a signature dazzling smile and she found it hard to keep one off her own face. 

She turned a little to see Spencer staring at her with wonder. He was dressed in a black three-piece velvet suit with a bowtie. He looked simply exquisite. They both smiled wide as they neared each other, Spencer extending his hand to her in the most gentlemanly of ways. She let her hand slip into his, somewhat glad for the support he gave her because of her high heels while simultaneously getting butterflies at the slight touch of his hand.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Spencer smiled and spoke quietly to her, proud that he wasn’t a stuttering mess just yet.

“And you look...expensive.” She let her eyes roam over his outfit before letting out a harmonious laugh. Spencer couldn’t help but grin in response as he adjusted his waistcoat with his free hand. They’d decided that Y/N would be the one carrying a firearm instead of Reid because her dress hid it better than his suit could have.

“Alright, kids, settle down. Now, let’s go over the plan. You’re going to go into the restaurant, sit at a table where you can be sure our unsub, George Mendoza, has a perfect view of you. You’ll have to make it super believable, he has to believe you guys are head over heels for each other.” 

Shouldn’t be hard, they both thought, sharing a glance even though they didn’t mean to. 

Morgan was really selling this. Y/N wondered if he knew…

But then again, if Garcia knew, Morgan knew. She also may have been forgetting that she was on the A team of profilers and just maybe the heart eyes she often gave Spencer gave her away already.

“Now, we know he corners his victims in the parking lot. We have to make sure he follows you out. Prentiss and Morgan will be by the door to follow you two out and hopefully ambush Mendoza.” Hotch explained and the two of them nodded.

“Got it.” She said, already shifting her weight from one foot to the other, the heels making her feet ache. Spencer noticed and dropped her hand, only to wrap his arm around her waist in hopes of steadying her and giving her the extra support she needed. JJ and Emily shared a knowing glance as they watched the subtle interaction between the two lovebirds. Y/N smiled to herself but avoided looking at him in order to keep the redness of her face at a minimum. 

Spencer led her to the black SUV parked outside and they both hopped into the backseat, with Morgan and Emily in the front.

 “Ready?” She asked, looking over to see a nervous-looking Spencer beside her as the car came to a halt in front of the restaurant.

He took a deep breath and nodded, “Ready.” He got out of the car and jogged around it to open her car door. She mirrored his actions and took a deep breath as well before plastering a huge smile across her features as she stepped out of the car. Morgan and Emily drove off to keep from blowing their cover. She and Spencer walked towards the greeter behind the podium, her arm tightly wound around his.

“Reservation for Dr. Reid.” Spencer spoke confidently. Y/N had to keep from biting her lip at how much she loved the sound of that. 

The greeter smiled, “Right this way.” he led them to a table and Y/N was in Mendoza’s direct line of sight.

“I’ve got eyes on Mendoza. He’s sitting with a woman and two bodyguards are guarding his table.” She spoke with a smile to Spencer and also to the team through her earpiece.

“I’ve got him.” Morgan confirmed from wherever he was, apparently he could see inside the restaurant.

Spencer turned to look ever so discreetly and pretended to be looking for the waiter. He noticed Mendoza ogling Y/N and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Spencer asked, visibly uncomfortable.

“What, why? Are you okay?” She replied.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m...fine, I just thought you might be more,” he cleared his throat, “comfortable if he wasn’t looking at you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest for a moment before glancing over to Mendoza, “Well, I’m fine, besides I think it’s better this way..that I’ve caught his eye.” She said with a slight roll of her eyes, making Spencer break into a grin.

“Don’t switch seats, that’ll look suspicious.” Emily spoke into their ears, “Now, don’t be so stiff. Relax, order some food or some drinks, whatever.”

“Alright, alright...relaxing.” She spoke mostly to herself and looked up at Spencer. Somehow looking at him made her feel at ease. His soft brown eyes brought her the reassurance she needed. Her gaze was intoxicating and Spencer could feel his hands starting to sweat as he wiped them on his pants. 

 “So this place is really, really fancy.” She said as she looked over the menu, which she could barely understand, “Wonder why he likes it.”

“He has an intense fixation on rich couples. Perhaps he sees his parents in the couples he chooses.” Spencer said, looking over the menu as well.

“Stop talking about the case!” Morgan’s voice boomed into their ears.

“Right, right! Sorry!” She whispered, “Okay, okay. Spence, tell me about these dishes, I have no idea what to order.”

“Um, okay. Well, I think you’d really enjoy the gnocchi in roasted red pepper sauce, Rossi’d made the same sauce and you’d really enjoyed it then when it was paired with pasta. Also the flavor of gnocchi is pretty neutral so it pairs really well with pungent sauces. Did you know that gnocchi originated in Northern Italy because the climate was better suited for growing potatoes rather than grain?” he continued to speak about gnocchi and all the different sauces one could eat it with.

Morgan had every intention to interrupt Spencer’s ramble but then Emily noticed the heart eyes Y/N was giving him, “Wait, no stop. Look at her, she’s into it.” Morgan chuckled and shook his head at the couple.

“Sorry...you should have stopped me.” Spencer ended his spiel, shyly taking a sip from his glass of water.

“Stop you? Why would I ever do that, you know I love your little tangents. Being with you makes me feel smart, actually. Except when you go on about quantum physics, I cannot keep up with that no matter how hard I try, I’m sorry.” She laughed and Spencer felt his confidence returning, “I can’t believe you made gnocchi sound so good. Now, I have to try it!” She grinned at him and Spencer swore he saw her eyes twinkle.

“What will you get?” She smiled at him, playing with her earring, a nervous tick of hers. Was she really that nervous? Why did she look so good doing it?

“Spence?” She noticed him zoning out slightly but he zoned back in.

“Huh? Oh, sorry um, I was a little distracted.” He blushed a little.

“Oh, by what?” She glanced over her shoulder to see if there was anything distracting behind her.

“Nothing, you just look very pretty.” Spencer complimented and she could not control the intense rush of blood that raced to her face. 

Morgan and Emily both drew in breaths through their teeth, “Daaaaamn, pretty boy’s got moves.” Derek whispered to Emily, their mics off.

Y/N giggled bashfully and looked down at her menu, shaking her head. This is all an act, Y/N. Get it together! Spencer reveled in her flushed cheeks for a moment before glancing down at his menu again, “I’ll probably just get the steak.”

For the next hour, they both made small talk with more encouragement from Emily and Derek. When the food came, she leaned closer to him and he fed her a piece of his steak, completely overlooking the fact that he’d just shared his fork with someone else. The sight of the two of them acting so hopelessly lovesick nearly made Emily and Derek sick themselves. During dinner, Spencer had migrated closer to her and they could barely keep their hands off of each other without any prompting from their earpieces. Y/N now had one hand on Spencer’s thigh and the other was intertwined with his as he draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer ever so slightly. 

Hey, he was probably never going to get to do this again, might as well enjoy it.

They giggled together over stories of their pasts, “I’m serious, my leg was on fire and Morgan had to put me out!”

“Oh come on, you expect me to believe that?” She laughed, her head leaning onto his shoulder.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, laughing. In the midst of her laughter, Spencer felt the overwhelming need to press a kiss to her wonderfully flushed cheek, so he did. He placed a soft kiss to the side of her cheek and made sure to linger enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin. The feel of his lips on her cheeks almost sent her in a spiral but she refused to meet his eyes, knowing that her eyes would most definitely give her away. Give away the longing and yearning she felt. She almost didn’t want to catch Mendoza because she knew that meant she’d have to give this up.

“Okay, lovebirds, Mendoza is losing interest. You have to up the ante somehow.” Derek spoke into their earpieces. Y/N was a little confused as to what more they could do to get his attention back to them, but she could practically hear the gears turning in Spencer’s head. She suddenly felt him separate himself from her and get up to walk around their table to be on her other side.

“What is he doing!” Emily whispered to Derek and he shrugged.

“Spence, what are you doing?” Y/N asked as he stood before her, offering his hand just like earlier in the evening.

“Y/N, do you trust me?” Spencer whispered as she put her hand in his. She felt him tug on it for her to stand with him and she finally nodded.

“Of course I do.” She whispered back, glancing around at people’s gazes who were now stuck on them.

“Then just go with it.” He smiled mischievously as he knelt down onto one of his knees. Y/N immediately caught herself hoping that it wasn’t the knee he injured before she realized what was happening. Her hands flew to her mouth in genuine shock. He was proposing, well, not actually proposing, but still! In his hand, Spencer held the ring she usually wore on her pointer finger, he must have taken it off without her noticing.

“Y/N, I have never doubted for a second that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. From the moment I met you, you consumed every piece of my mind, body, and soul. And at first I was afraid at how willingly I’d give it to you, but then I realized that there is not another person on this planet that I’d rather have my soul. You are the light of my life, Y/N. When I wake up in the morning, you’re the first person I think of and when I fall asleep, my thoughts are only occupied by you. There are around 170,000 words in the English language, and no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to express to you just how much I love you. Y/N, will you marry me and make me the happiest man alive?” Spencer stared up at her, hoping the weight of his words would somehow reach her through the guise of the assignment.

Y/N stood there, tears gathering in her eyes from the sheer overwhelming-ness of it all. Never had she imagined (because she has imagined it, if we’re being honest) that the day Spencer Reid would propose to her, it would be fake. The tears slipped out, she felt like sobbing at the artificiality of it all. Luckily those tears were in her favor to sway external witnesses. She suddenly remembered that he’d asked her a question.

“Yes! Yes, a million times yes!” A heavy sob escaped her and Spencer quickly slipped the ring onto her finger. Spectators clapped wildly and cheered for them. That definitely caught Mendoza’s attention. 

She threw her arms around his neck while he hugged her waist to lift her off the ground slightly. Spencer momentarily allowed himself to believe that this was real. In a moment of giddiness, he set her down again on the floor and pulled her in for a celebratory kiss by her waist. It took her a moment to realize what was happening, but soon reciprocated the tender kiss. Although it was short, it was unlike any other kiss she’d had. They pulled away from each other when the clapping and commotion had died down. Spencer had smiled graciously at people who were congratulating them, while she was still completely dazed from the kiss. They both went back to their respective seats, Spencer now back across from her rather than beside her.

Emily had lowkey been hitting Derek’s arm as they kissed, a moment she and JJ were surely going to tease Y/N to the ends of the Earth about.

Y/N had just barely composed herself enough to wipe the remnants of tears from her cheeks which resulted in a low whisper coming from Spencer, “Are you alright?” She nodded and flashed him a smile, one that told him just how not fine she was, but Spencer decided to let it go for a moment. He hoped he hadn’t crossed the line with the kiss.

“Good job, kids. You are definitely back on Mendoza’s radar.” Morgan spoke into both their earpieces.

They waited another 10 minutes before making their exit, their meal already paid for. Spencer had his arm tight around her shoulders as they walked out of the restaurant and pretended to wait for the valet. Derek and Emily still had eyes on Mendoza inside, who waited exactly one minute before he and his bodyguards were on the move.

“Mendoza’s on the move. Y/L/N and Reid, get ready for the signal.” Emily spoke, still in their hiding position.

Y/N took her gun out of her thigh holster and kept it out of view. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand as Mendoza approached them from behind.

“Congratulations to the lovely young couple. Can I just say how well you two suit each other?” Mendoza’s slimy voice began and it made their skin crawl.

“Now!” Emily spoke and both she and Morgan emerged with their firearms raised at the three men.

Y/N swiveled around and aimed her gun at him, “FBI, hands up, now!” She yelled and Mendoza’s men came forward to attack the two of them when they all heard the clicks of Emily and Derek’s guns from behind them.

“Uh-uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Derek taunted. Mendoza visibly deflated and Spencer was quick to cuff him and read him his rights.

“George Mendoza, you are under arrest for the murder of 14 people…” Spencer went on as Emily and Derek cuffed the other two men. Y/N took a deep breath as she watched her teammates stuff them into police cars. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Hotch.

“Nice work, Y/L/N.” He gave her an approving nod and led her back to one of the SUVs. She immediately relaxed back into the seat and took off her heels.

On the jet back to Quantico, Y/N was teased quietly by Emily and JJ but they could tell that something was off about her. She wasn’t as bright as she usually was. Her eyes didn’t shine with the triumph that came with solving another case. Instead she was reserved and proceeded to retreat into herself when the teasing had stopped.

Oh how she wished it was real. She found herself keeping the ring on her ring finger rather than returning it to its rightful place on her pointer finger. She wanted to live in the daydream for as long as she could. Spencer’s words swirled around in her head with no shame or trepidation. She didn’t have an eidetic memory, but she would remember those words forever. Hearing them over and over seemed to have cracked and broken her heart and she was frantically trying to piece it back together. On the far side of the jet, Spencer was in a pool of regret. He wouldn’t have kissed her if he knew it’d make her uncomfortable. She has barely spoken to him since they closed the case and it didn’t seem like she would be talking any time soon. 

Hotch had given them two days off to cool off from the case and get some much needed sleep. Y/N thought that spending time away from Spencer would somehow heal the cracks in her heart, but they only seemed to make it worse. She knows she shouldn’t have cried into that tub of ice cream, but she couldn’t help it. She thought back to her friend who’d just gotten engaged the previous month and while she was never the jealous type, she found that feelings of envy were inevitable. She wondered if Spencer had meant anything he’d said. What did it mean if he did? No, no, she wasn’t even going to entertain the thought that he might feel anything for her. That would only lead to false hope and possibly deeper heartbreak.

But…

The way he’d looked at her when he said he loved her. That couldn’t be faked, right? She was a profiler for goodness’s sake, she should have been able to tell, but it was abundantly clear that her feelings for Spencer got in the way of her profiling skills.

Going back to work was relatively easy, except for the fact that she couldn’t look Spencer in the eye without hearing the words he’d said to her. It was ridiculous of her to even consider the fact that he might have not been just acting. She’d spoken barely two words to him and Spencer was itching all day to speak with her, but he just couldn’t. They were both avoiding each other for the wrong reasons. Unfortunately, their coworkers noticed the obvious shift in behavior. It was so unlike the two to be so awkward around each other. JJ had even caught Spencer doing a 180 and returning to his desk as soon as he saw Y/N at the coffee machine.

Something must be done.

They’d all decided to leave quietly 15 minutes early, minus Hotch and Rossi who were already cooped up in their offices. They hoped the empty bullpen could give them the privacy they needed to talk about whatever they needed to.

“Hey, Em, could you look at this for me? I think--” Y/N trailed off as she glanced up from her paperwork to see an almost completely empty bullpen, “Oh, where did everybody go?” she asked herself and technically Spencer, who also seemed to be totally engrossed in his work.

“Hm, I think everyone left already.” Spencer stood from his desk, bones cracking as he did so.

“That’s weird…” she shrugged and tried to get back to work.

“Um, so what did you need Emily for? I could take a look at it if you want.” Spencer offered, walking over to her desk and leaning on the side of it.

“Uh..y-yeah, sure.” She stammered as she looked for the file she just set down, having him in close proximity was making her mind go numb for a second, “Here, um...I think it was filed in the wrong folder. I’ll just--uh..give it to JJ tomorrow or something.” She swallowed, avoiding his eyes as she showed it to him. 

“Hold on a second, I think...this...goes in here with this case…” he trailed off as he grabbed a folder from his own desk.

“Huh, someone must have accidentally placed it on my desk instead of yours.” She nodded.

“It was probably Anderson.” They both said at the same time, making them both laugh.

 It felt right to laugh with him again. Spencer’s heart skipped a beat when she finally looked up and grinned at him. He felt like the air was somehow restored to his lungs. He watched as she shyly looked back down and tucked some hair behind her ear. He cleared his throat and fumbled with the file in his hand.

“Hey, I--uh...never got the chance to apologize...for uhm, how things went when we were, y’know undercover.” 

Wow, real smooth Spence. Great job.

He watched as her brows furrowed together, eyes lifting to meet his, “What do you mean?” 

“I...shouldn’t have...kissed you, I’m sorry. I just thought...I don’t know, it seemed like most couples usually kiss after proposals and I thought if we didn’t kiss it would have looked weird. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Y/N.” He apologized and Y/N’s heart might have definitely exploded in her chest. Here was this sweet, sweet man who was apologizing because he felt like he made her uncomfortable, as if that’s the reason she’d been acting weird.

“No, it didn’t make me uncomfortable at all!” She laughed it off, shaking her head. My God, Spencer Reid, there really is no one else like you. 

He fought off a relieved smile, “Oh, it didn’t?” She shook her head, laughing wholeheartedly now.

“No, on the contrary, I quite liked it, Dr. Reid.” She rolled her eyes, still giggling.

“Why have you been avoiding me and acting all awkward then?” He laughed with her.

“God, Spencer, did you really think I was being awkward because you kissed me?” She spoke, her arms lifting up and coming back down in disbelief.

“Yes!” he nodded, crossing his arms and shifting as he leaned on her desk, “I thought I’d made you uncomfortable…”

“No...Spencer, that’s not it at all…” She smiled softly but it began to fade as she stared at him.

There are around 170,000 words in the English language, and no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to express to you just how much I love you.

“Then what is it, Y/N? What’s going on?” He pursed his lips, wanting to absorb any and all the pain she’d ever felt in her life.

She had to know.

“The things you said...while you were uhm...proposing. Did--did you mean any of them?” She looked up at him with the largest doe eyes he’d ever seen. Her eyes began to shine with tears as her shoulders tensed with anticipation.

He shifted again uncomfortably at the question and her unfaltering gaze, “I--uh, I did, actually.” The heat rushed to his face and ears, “I definitely did mean them, Y/N. Does--does that make you feel weird?”

“No, no, not in the slightest,” her face broke out into another grin, this one with hints of relief, as she stood up from her desk chair to be at eye-level with him, “actually, if I’m being honest, I wanted you to mean them.”

Spencer smiled as he uncrossed his arms, “Is that right?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, placing both her hands on the sides of his neck, his hands now resting comfortably on her waist. She watched as his gaze never left her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes briefly flickered upwards to hers for permission.

“Please do.” She smiled before he connected their lips.

It felt right this time. She knew it did because she could finally savor the feeling of her stomach doing somersaults. She knew because she could finally know the feeling of his large hands roaming the expanse of her back in efforts to pull her closer. She knew because she could finally feel the incredibly soft tufts of hair at the base of his neck as she weaved her fingers through them.

In the distance, Hotch and Rossi simultaneously checked the bullpen through the blinds of their offices at the suspicious silence. Both of them shook their heads and laughed at the blooming of young love.

[bcdwhcre]

“Lies & Affairs,” Pt 3 Levi x Reader

Since it’s been requested so many timesssss

Summary: After Levi found out Petra (his gf) cheated on him, he sleeps with you and you overthinking he’ll run back to Petra— you go to support him while he confronts her.

Warnings: confrontation that turns into smut oop

PART ONE

PART TWO

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After the shower, Levi had decided to go back to his own place considering he had no change of clothes and Petra was sitting in there like she owned the place and that had made him a little more pissed off than usual.

He asked you to tag along and at first you didn’t want to, who would want to go confront Levi’s girlfriend after just sleeping with him. But he had convinced you that he needed some support and you gave in.

The way your hands started to get shaky as you both walked into his place, looking around at the clean area and Levi had laughed at the fact that the clothing that was scattered before was now gone like nothing ever happened.

“Levi is that you?” Petra had walked out of the kitchen, stopping when she saw Levi then you standing behind him.

“What happened? You didn’t come home, I was worried.” She put on the sweet little act and that had made him tense up a bit, another laugh leaving his lips.

“We need to sit down and talk first.” He gestures towards the kitchen table, leading you to it and you sat beside him.

You did not want to be here right now, you felt completely awkward at the fact you were a third wheel.. kinda like a side chick while he yells at his girlfriend for cheating. It wasn’t the most romantic situation.

“About what?” She spoke, her eyes had moved to look at you and she was genuinely confused as to why you were even here.

“Kinda over playing dumb, Petra. Who did you sleep with last night?” He abruptly said, making your eyes go wide and you tried to look at anything other than them two.

“Wait.. what?”

“I said I’m over playing dumb, who the fuck was in my bed with you last night?” He asked again, leaning towards the table as he rested his arms on it, the look of amusement on his face.

“Nobody? I was here alone.”

“Yeah, right and I wasn’t deep in Y/N’s guts just an hour ago either huh?”

The way your eyes almost popped out of their sockets, glaring over at Levi and Petra had glared at you. Suddenly the tension grew thicker and you were very close to getting up and walking out of here. You didn’t sign up for this mess.

“I came here last night, clothes everywhere and noises coming from the room. You’re telling me that was just you?” He laughed at the stupid excuse, her eyes looking at him and suddenly the realization had hit her.

“Oh.” She simply said, her eyes now full of sadness but he didn’t feel sorry for her- he felt nothing.

“I want you and your shit out of here, unless you want to be here while I rail her a third time.” He gestured to you beside him and you slapped his arm.

“Levi,” You warned but he was having fun with this, fun humiliating her and watching her put on this guilty act as if she regretted what she did.

“I’m sorry- just please, hear me out.”

“I’m sick of hearing you out, our relationship has been dead for months and now I want you gone, Petra. It’s over, done, never happening again. Get the fuck out of here with the bullshit apologies and tears and go to that guys doorstep you were just fucking in my bed!” His blood boiled at the sight of her tears, she wasn’t sorry, she didn’t feel bad while she was laid up with someone else and he wasn’t sorry for being harsh to her or sleeping with you.

Petra had finally shut her mouth, her eyes looking over at you and you tried not to meet her gaze as she gave you a nasty look, like she was blaming you for everything that is happening right now.

“Well, I’ll get my things.”

“Good, you have twenty minutes to get it and leave.”

Levi crossed his arms over his chest, watching her rise from the table and leave the room to go in the bedroom they once shared together but he just felt sick. He didn’t even want to sleep in that bed again, it was sickening to even think that another man had slept in his spot.

His eyes moved to yours, the look of embarrassment on your face and he sighed as he reached over to caress your cheek.

“Thank you for being here.”

“Yeah, thanks for putting our sex on blast.” You mumbled, making him laugh again and he shook his head while rubbing your cheek.

“Sorry, slipped out.” He said teasingly but you knew he brought it up on purpose, he wasn’t phased by it.

As twenty minutes went by in a heartbeat, Levi had called out for Petra to leave his place. He didn’t care if she wasn’t finished packing, he wanted her gone and she continued to cry as she walked towards the door.

“Levi,” He raised his hand to cut her off, another sarcastic laugh coming out of his mouth.

“Just please leave, I’m not in love with you and I don’t want you.” He said coldly, making her heart break into pieces but she understood, she betrayed him.

She finally walked out of the house while dragging her things. Levi shut the door, his eyes moving to yours as you stood up from the table and cleared your throat at the awkward tension.

He cupped your cheeks, instantly peppering soft kisses on your lips and around your face which made your nose scrunch your as you tried to pull away.

“Now that she’s gone,” He mumbled, his lips landing on top of yours and your face started to heat up.

“We can continue where we left off in the shower.”

“Levi, you’re so humiliating.” You laughed against his mouth, making him pull back and give you a cute genuine smile.

“So? You seem to like it.” He brushed your hair back, leaning down to pick you up with ease and force your legs to wrap around his torso.

You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press your lips back on his and you couldn’t explain why you were like this around Levi. The fact not even five minutes ago his ex lover had left his house in tears and now you were here kissing him endlessly.

He had sat you down on the edge of the kitchen table, his lips dancing with yours and in no time his tongue was inside of your mouth before he had pulled back to fully look at you again.

His fingers combing through your hair, giving you a small smile and he had tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling your face closer to pepper a few kisses around your face.

“I hope you know that you’re mine now.” He had mumbled quietly, making your eyes move down to his while hooking your arms loosely around his neck.

“Oh yeah? Since when.”

“Since today.”

“Are you trying to ask me out in a special Levi way?”

“Yes,” He said almost breathless, his eyes sparkled and stared deep into yours like he was trying to read your thoughts.

The longer you stayed quiet, the more he started to panic. Did he say something wrong? Were you going to say no?

You laughed as his face got all flustered, making his eyebrows furrow and give you a playful dirty look, you were teasing him.

“Is that a yes then?” He asked again, leaning forward between your legs as you sat there watching him lick his lips, waiting for your answer.

“Yes, Levi.” You mumbled, bringing your small hand up to his face and cupped one of his cheeks.

Your heart had swelled up, full of love and happiness and the way he smiled at you in a way he’s never done before- it made you believe he felt the exact same way.

Soon his lips were back on yours, this time he was a bit more rough with it but it still had a lot of passion behind it, making your body almost rock backwards onto the table but you held onto his body to keep you up.

Levi wasted no time to pepper kisses down your neck, not bothering to leave anymore love bites considering you had enough from yesterday underneath your shirt. He smirked to himself just by the thought of it as he placed a hand on your chest and pushed you down on the table.

“This one is about you, baby.” He said in a low tone, his hands grabbing onto your pants and yanked them down your legs in an instant.

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies as he stared down at your half naked body with admiration, it made your cheeks heat up the more he was staring down at you.

The soft touches of his hands had tickled your skin as he trailed them down to your thighs, spreading them apart in front of him and he chewed down on his lower lip, trying to hold himself back from completely devouring you instantly.

His fingertips hooked underneath the waistband of your underwear, teasingly dragging it down your legs and tossed it behind him in one swift movemnt, his eyes meeting your gaze and the lustful look he had given you made your core throb.

Just by sleeping with him twice, he already knew what turned you on in seconds and what edged you on more. It wasn’t hard for him to find your soft spots or pleasure you continuously, it was like he was an expert on your body already.

As your eyes stayed on him, he dipped his head down and placed gentle kisses on your inner thighs, even playfully biting down on your skin hard enough to leave a mark but also send a breathless gasp to leave your lips.

Levi laughed to himself, bringing his two fingers up and ran them through your slick folds, the coldness of his fingers made you shiver slightly and gave you the urge to close your legs but he kept them spread with his other hand, his eyes burning into you as he watched your pleasured facial expressions.

He finally took it upon him to latch his mouth where you needed him most, not hesitating to roam his tongue around all while his two fingers had teased at your entrance, making you throw your head back on the table and grabbed a hold of his hair.

His tongue had worked on your clit, flicking at it and wrapping his mouth around it to softly suck on the bundle of nerves, making you almost squirm uncontrollably underneath him.

The way you gripped his hair tightly had made him continue his fast movements, thrusting his fingers inside of you and pumping them in and out at a even pace.

“Levi,” His name had slipped out of your mouth in a long moan, your legs clinging around his head while your eyes fluttered shut.

He had pulled his mouth back, feeling the salvia mixed with your juices dripping down his chin as he licked his lips. He continued thrusting his fingers, using his other hard to rub circular motions on your clit.

“Thats right, say my name.” He praised you, making your heart pound in your chest as your breathing got heavy.

His fingers twisted and curved up against your halls, instantly hitting your spot that sent a much louder noise to fall from your lips which fed on his ego, the confidence rising as he watched how much pleasure you were in with just his fingers.

He couldn’t help himself, the way his mouth drooled at the sight of you like this in front of him- he might just cum inside his pants with you like this. It made him crazy.

He latched his mouth back on your dripping core, running his tongue around the hole his fingers were plunging in, the taste of you had made him weak which only made him quicken his pace, wanting your cum on his tongue.

The continuous moans that had slipped out, your legs almost shaking as you felt the familiar knock in your stomach, making you clench around his fingers. He knew just by that you were close, licking up to your clit and spent his time sucking and nibbling down on it gently while his fingers did most of the work.

“I’m gonna-“ You couldn��t even finish your sentence before the pleasure had washed over you, making your eyes squeeze shut and your back arching off the table.

He moved his fingers just to replace them with his tongue, tasting every drop of you and collecting it as he savored the taste and hummed against you which made you shudder under him.

He pulled back, wiping his mouth with his thumb and licking the remaining cum off that as well before he leaned over you, reaching his fingers towards your mouth and you parted your lips. Levi had put his two fingers in your mouth, feeling your tongue swirl around them as you tasted yourself.

“My good girl.” He mumbled, removing his fingers and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

.

.

.

Idk about this part but ???? hope it’s okay.

Pls if there’s spelling errors, I’m so sorry I don’t feel like reading it over dhdhdhd

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: IV

“I had a few, got drunk on you

And now I’m wasted

And when I sleep, I’m gonna dream of 

How you tasted.”

— Medicine, Harry Styles

A/N: if i said i’m apologizing for the way i left off ch3, yes i did ❤️ no i didn’t ❤️ it was fun ❤️ as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! and if you enjoy the piece, please reblog it!!! it keeps content creators motivated!! without further delay, hope you enjoy what’s in store for Sherlock and Watson this chapter cause it’s uhhhh quite a bit of uhhhh ~stuff~ 😌

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

word count: 26.4k

content/warnings: a mild addiction to sexting, some pretty sparkly lingerie, a very interesting photo, a strange but satisfying gift, rough sex and degradation, pillow talk about the validity of the men in Twilight, the satisfying gift being put to even more good use, Y/N going over to Harry’s apartment for the first time, mild mentions of blood, and an impromptu Hamilton re-enactment amidst more lemon blueberry pancakes

///

For the next three days, the sexting grows more frequent. 

Harry feels somewhat humiliated by it, really. He’s an adult— a full-grown, two hundred and nine year old man— and trading nudes with a simple girl shouldn’t be getting him as worked up as it does. He should know how to handle his hormones better, and the thing is, he usually does. But no one in the last few centuries has made him feel as desperate as Y/N does; he hasn’t felt this helpless for someone since he was alive. The vampire just wasn’t prepared to handle the needy responses she so easily yields from his body and he’s horribly rusty on how to skate this thin sheet of metaphorical ice. It’s like he can feel it cracking and crunching beneath his feet, but he has absolutely no power over how to stop it. Any minute, it’s bound to take him under, and he has no choice but to allow himself to drown in it. 

The following seventy two hours are full of so many dirty promises and explicit images, his phone might as well be a porno hard drive.

After coaxing Y/N into a few orgasms through the phone and receiving just as many in return, a dangerous game is set into motion that Harry knows is probably unhealthy not only for his self-worth, but for the sensitivity of his anatomy. He can only get off so many times before his joints are begging for a break. 

He wakes up Wednesday morning with a stiff ache running along his inner thighs and ebbing across the underside of his balls, but there’s an undeniable contentment stewing behind it. He doesn’t truly mind the throb, comforted by the fact that Y/N is probably facing similar issues at the moment. He finds himself smiling coyly as he flips an omelette onto one of his marble-print platters, recalling the events from the night before. 

According to what he’d heard on the other end of the phone, present throughout the array of shaky gasps, cracked whimpers, and wet sounds of pleasure that had echoed from the speaker, Harry had made Y/N squirt. 

That was a tremendous stroke to his already huge ego. The idea that he’d been able to make her cum so hard that she’d soiled her brand new sheets had been circling around his head for the last couple of hours, fluffing his confidence. It’s a milestone achievement, to be honest. He’d done something that very few men have the skill to achieve in person, meanwhile he’d done it just by using his voice and extensive imagination. The arrogance he’s sporting right now is more than justified. His cheeks are starting to ache from how hard he’s grinning.

The vampire is so lost in his recollections that he nearly misses the chime of his phone, the unique ringtone that beeps out being as welcomed as ever. 

Harry scoops up his device while spooning a piece of his green pepper and mushroom egg dish into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he swipes into Y/N’s text conversation. He smoothers the giddiness fluttering in his stomach; he’s not a child. 

As it turns out, he’d killed those butterflies for no solid reason because the instant her message pops up, they come right back to life. 

Morning! Thought I’d show you what I’m planning on wearing to work today. 

Harry roughly swallows down his breakfast at the attachment following the caption, a shiver coiling down his spine. “Fucking hell.”

The photo is a mirror shot, taken in her tiny bathroom. It’s a full body image where she’s clad in a matching set of bra and panties, the material sparkly bright red lace. The bottoms are high-waisted, hugging her tummy and hips in a way he deems perfect, the lace decorating her skin beautifully. The bra is see-through, so he has an unrestrained view of her chest and he doesn’t know why, but he thinks he might love the way her breasts look in lingerie more than without it. Make no mistake, he’ll willingly drool over her no matter what, but there’s just such a refined beauty in seeing her figure in such an elegant piece. She’s like a present set out for him to unwrap, preferably with his teeth. 

Then he notices the garters and the next forkful of food lodges in his throat. They hug around her legs deliciously, the bands settled midway down her thighs as the straps run up the sides and clip onto the hem of her panties. Yeah, he would definitely use his teeth. 

After gawking at the artwork for a minute, Harry finally gathers himself enough to type back a decent reaction.

I’m pretty sure that outfit doesn’t apply to the workspace dress code. 

Y/N shakes her head in amusement at his response, giggling softly as she finishes shimmying into her black skinny jeans, buttoning them over the skimpy lace. 

I’ll cover up for the sake of the customers. But it’s just such a nice set, I figured someone else should get to appreciate it with me.  

Harry sets his utensil down on top of his plate, omelet only half eaten. His appetite has molded into a very different type of hunger. He pads out of the kitchen, feeling the ten AM sunlight filter through the glass wall of his living room and warm his bare chest and back. He heads for the bathroom that branches out of the entrance corridor, coming to a stop right in front of its mirror. He begins to clean up his appearance, combing his bed head into a presentable state (he hadn’t slept, per usual, but rolling around his pillows last night while he indulged fantasies about Y/N had done his curls in something fierce), fixing his royal blue briefs along his hips and dragging the waistband down to show off the dip of his prominent pelvic bones.

Once the immortal is done, he taps back with eager strokes of his thumbs. 

I can’t believe you’ve never worn that for me. That’s a criminal offense. Literally worth capital punishment. 

Oh, really? Capital punishment? And who are you to decide my verdict?

I’m the executioner, obviously. I’m in charge of dispensing the verdict and I promise you, I’ll see to it that you get what you deserve. It’s my civic duty.

Y/N scoffs at his quip, tugging her navy polo shirt over her torso and quickly running a brush through her hair. She puts it up into a neat ponytail, sighing lightly as she stares at her tired reflection. She wishes she could ditch work for the day and entertain more conversation with Harry, but she literally can’t afford to.

Well, you’re gonna have to wait while I go perform my own type of civic duty. Making the world a better place, one grilled panini at a time. 

Harry’s lips jolt. She’s so clever and witty, he doesn’t know how she could possibly be from such a dull, monochrome town. 

I understand. Justice calls. But before you go, can I send you a picture of what I’M wearing today? Could use a few style tips. 

That’s pretty ironic coming from someone whose last name is literally ‘Styles.’

I know, I know. But even fashion icons have their insecurities sometimes. 

Fair point, nobody’s perfect. Lemme see your OOTD, then.

The outfit of the day appears to be no outfit at all, according to Harry’s picture. It’s taken on a mirror, like her own, and it depicts him standing with one hand holding his phone in front of his face while the other seems to be doing jazz hands down his body playfully. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of deep blue briefs (probably because he’d completely ruined the maroon pair he was wearing last night, if his broken moans and heavy panting had been any indication) and they hug his frame flawlessly. The fabric is bunched around his lean thighs, tiger head tattoo peeking out to accompany the rest of the collection, which includes all the inkings running the length of his left arm as well as the butterfly and swallows across his torso. His v-line is evident as ever, dipping below the elastic band teasingly. His chest is broad and his biceps are taut, despite the fact that he’s not even flexing. He looks like a Greek statue and Y/N is positive the higher powers designed Harry with that specific thought in mind.

Y/N doesn’t realize drool is gathering in her mouth until it tickles the inside of her bottom lip. She snaps her jaw closed, clearing her throat sheepishly. Over a minute has passed of her just ogling and she can feel heat layering across her cheeks. She knows Harry probably has the cockiest expression on his face at the moment, obvious in the tone of the next comment he delivers. 

Damn, it’s that bad, huh? Guess I’ll have to change. 

No, it’s perfect. Simple, but effective. Very professional. 

Why, thank you! 

My pleasure.

Here, take this as a token of my appreciation. Hopefully it can help get you through the day. 

This specific photo is taken from an above point of view, as if Y/N were looking down at Harry’s body along with him. His pectorals and stomach muscles appear more defined, tattoos darker and skin more evidently sunkissed. Lower down, there’s the obvious outline of what lies within his boxers, snuggled up against his thick thigh and tempting her to let out a soft whine. Then, resting casually against his abdomen is his free hand, sporting a thumbs-up that gives a purposefully goofy vibe to the risky image. He’s such an idiot. 

The mortal’s answer is just as silly and lighthearted as his gesture. 

Thank you, I’ll keep it locked in my heart forever. 

I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

That’s the first interaction of many that further opens the door to their virtual sex life. Things hardly stay that innocent. 

That night when Y/N gets home from work, they undergo another round of phone sex. It starts off the same: cheeky banter that leads to cheeky pictures that eventually leads to utter filth. 

And that’s how they spend the next few days— taking care of each other’s needs digitally until Friday rolls around. There’s plenty of those encounters, but there’s definitely favorites. 

A session during one of Harry’s self-care baths, when he puts her on speaker and she talks him through tugging one out while the scent of lavender salts— which he’d chosen because they smell like her— leave his heated skin feeling soft and supple. Another instance where he makes her orgasm while she has gotten bored watching a scary movie marathon on her couch, the screams of the horror film mere background noise compared to all the sweet nothings Harry huskily mumbles into her ear, his dominant voice filtering through her headphone and instructing her on how to make herself feel good.

Harry messages her at three A.M. at one point, wide awake as ever, all of his thoughts occupied by the concept of Y/N laying on her tummy between his thighs and sucking him off at a slow pace. He can practically see her small hands wrapped around his girth, stroking up to meet her pretty lips, her tongue lapping at his tip eagerly as she whines around a full mouth. She’s always just so eager. Even at the crack of dawn, she’s awake by some miracle, and happily willing to delve into that fantasy with him. Her soft, timid tone drifts across the shells of his ears, explicitly sketching out how she’d take him all the way down her throat until she gags, and how she’d kiss all over the head of his prick just to smear his precum over her lips to then lick it off, and how she’d rock against his lap fast and hard while he takes her nipples between his teeth. How she wouldn’t stop until he’s dripping down her thighs and groaning into her throat. How she’d let him fuck her as many times as it takes to tire himself out. 

Harry obviously repays her, and it comes in the form of him painting out a scenario where she’s gotten home from a long day at the café. He tells her about how he’d be there waiting for her in nothing but his underwear, sitting back on his elbows in her bed, touching himself over his briefs just at the thought of pleasuring her. About how he’d lay her out and taste every inch of her body with his tongue, and how he’d run his teeth across her inner thighs tenderly while his fingers play with her clit, and how he’d have her ride his face deep and sloppy until she’s shaking and sensitive. How he’d tie her to the bed and toss her legs over his shoulders while he pounds her into the mattress, marking bruises across her neck as she sucks on his fingers and tightens around his cock like “the snug little thing you are.”

They even take their fun out of the confines of their houses and into public settings, just to give it an adrenaline high. Those situations are foreplay; it’s how they prep each other throughout the day for when they’re both finally alone and can truly help one another to the fullest. 

It happens Thursday on two occasions. 

First, to Y/N, who is sitting in the backroom on her lunch break, though she’s barely touched her food. She’s much more interested in what Harry has to say. Much more interested in how he says he wishes he could be there with her right now. That she could sneak him in through the back door of the restaurant and they could lock themselves in that tiny supply room, making sure no one would disturb what he’s about to do to her. That he would drop to his knees and drag her jeans down her legs, pressing damp kisses in the denim’s wake, biting hickies in the areas he knows she loves to receive them. He would mount her knees over his shoulders and bury his face between her thighs, looking up at her through heavy lashes as he licks into her desperately. He would have her grab onto his curls and guide his tongue just the way she likes it, and she’d have to bite into her cheek to keep from getting caught. 

He talks about how he’d take her against the supply shelves, one hand clamped over her mouth while he pants praise into her ear, her body jolting roughly upwards against the surface as she clings to his back. How he’d hold her up with the other arm and slam her down onto his cock, cooing things like, “Gotta keep quiet for me, sweetheart. Can’t make you cum if we get caught.” and “Such a filthy girl, sneaking me in here just to fuck you. Baby just wants to walk around the rest of the day full of me, doesn’t she?” 

That fantasy leaves her in a bothered haze the rest of the work day. It’s bad enough that she almost drops her tray three different times and has to ask multiple customers to repeat their orders. 

Y/N gets back at Harry, though. That revenge is the second occasion. 

The vampire had mentioned that he would be going out with his friends that evening to a bar and she takes full advantage of that. When the picture comes through, Harry nearly spits out his Manhattan drink. 

He’s sitting in a booth surrounded by his entire group and he’d been talking shit with Niall about golf. The vampire doesn’t care for the sport, but Niall loves it, and Harry loves getting on Niall’s nerves, therefore it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Mitch and Adam join in, with Mitch obviously supporting Harry, when he randomly decides to check his notifications. Even in the shrunken little banner, Harry can immediately tell the photo is graphic. Xander asks if he’s alright, telling him he looks freakishly pale and to get his eyes under control because they're in public. Harry blinks the red from his irises, hurriedly excusing himself and clambering up from his seat, jetting across the restaurant towards the restrooms. It’s occupied, much to his luck, so he settles for simply pressing his back against the wall of the corridor, leaning his head against the bricks and taking deep breaths to calm the raging in his stomach. He gingerly opens the message and his knees nearly give out. 

The image is taken from the back, probably using a timer. Y/N is wearing one of her big tees and another pair of cheeky lace panties, but this time around, they’re pastel peach and crotchless. She’s bent over with her ass up and spine arched, knees parted for balance, her shirt bunching downwards due to the angle. Her arms are pulled behind her back and her chest is flushed to the bed, wrists crossed submissively as she gazes at the camera over her shoulder. There’s an unmistakable sparkle in her eyes and he can tell she had sent this now on purpose just to fuck with him, knowing good and well that he was out and occupied.

The shot is more than he can handle and he has to swallow down the urge to stomp out of the bar, get into his car, race to her flat, and make her rethink her decision. Preferably, in the form of harsh spanks and overstimulation. He can see everything— the intentional rip at the crotch of the panties are meant for that sole reason. The closer he looks, he comes to realize that she’s wet, which in turn means she had been touching herself. She’d set this up perfectly, knowing that he’d easily be able to deduce that fact and that it would haunt him for the rest of the night. 

The monster releases a quivering exhale, typing back slowly and carefully, sight bleary. 

You’re going to regret that. 

Pinky promise?

///

When Harry arrives at Y/N’s apartment the next night, as he has for the last three Fridays, he doesn’t saunter up to her door and bang on it angrily. He doesn’t grab her by her hair and drag her into her room, how he’d intended. He doesn’t even have a single cinch in his sculpted brows. 

Instead, he raps softly on the door with one jeweled knuckle and waits calmly. 

The human goes to answer, her stomach twisting in excitement at all the possibilities of what punishment she might face for her antics. A small, sly smile buckles the corners of her lips at the thought, her fingers trembling as they wrap around her cold doorknob. She expects to find a furrow-browed, intense-eyed, red-faced Harry behind the threshold, who would shove past her, nab her by the arm, and throw her onto her bed. She expects him to yank his belt from around his hips while a distinct darkness swallows his emerald irises, his mouth curling into a sinister grin. She expects him to roughly command she get on her hands and knees, his palm finding the back of her head to shove her face-first into the sheets while he rips her panties down her legs and drags the cool leather of his accessory over her backside tauntingly.

What she gets is something— and someone— completely the opposite. 

When her door swings open, Harry is standing standing there, sure. But instead of looming over her with flaring nostrils and cruel intent, he’s decided to lean against the door frame with his arms folded casually. His body is completely empty of tension, his ankles are crossed offhandedly, and a small, bright red paper bag full of sparkly black tissue paper is hanging off his wrist. His expression is a relaxed facade of indifference, lips set into his usual signature smirk, no explosive emotions present whatsoever. 

That startles Y/N. This has to be an act; it feels like the calm before a violent storm and it has her shifting in her socked feet. Did he...Did he forget what she did? 

There’s no way he forgot. It was too brazen a move to dismiss.

Harry steps forward into her home, comfortable enough that he no longer has to wait for an invitation. Y/N moves to the side to let him through, hesitantly closing the entrance behind him, contemplating the man as if he were a ticking bomb. She does a quick sweep of his physique, looking for some other clue as to what he could be plotting, aside from the mysterious gift bag in his hand. He’s wearing a pair of flared denim jeans, a white tee with a royal blue cartoon bee printed in the center along with the words Enjoy health! Eat your honey! surrounding it, his white Vans, and an oversized colorful patch-work cardigan. The outfit is surprisingly domestic compared to his usual taste, but she finds it’s easily one of her favorite fits on him. He just looks so boyish adorable. 

The human comes up with nothing suspicious, glancing back up to lock eyes with her guest. Harry beams at her innocently and she knows for sure he’s planning something, but she can’t place what. 

“I got you this.” The vampire speaks up first, holding out the paper bag towards Y/N with his index finger, bouncing it encouragingly. “Take a peek.” 

The girl accepts the gift gingerly, giving him one more hard look before breaking away to investigate what lies beneath the tissue paper. She pulls out a small cardboard box, her eyes squinting slightly as she reads its print and surveys the label. The image on the surface appears to be of five silicone finger gloves, each about the size of a thumbtack, tiny metal plates embedded into the pads. She’s voicing her curiosity before she’s even finished studying the container. 

“What...What are these?”

Harry rolls his eyes jokingly, tapping the object for emphasis. “Read the fine print, love.” 

Y/N focuses on the region he’d pointed out, reciting aloud. “‘Vibrating silicone finger gloves. For the use of personal pleasure or with partners.’”

Then it all clicks. 

“Oh my God, you got me— what?!” Y/N’s head snaps up in shock, mouth parted and brows creased. “Harry, what?”

The young man laughs airily, gently opening the seal of the box in her hands, which she is now holding as if it were a weapon of mass destruction. It’s such a weird present to give in general, moreso all out of the blue, so she can’t be blamed for her reaction.

He uncaps the packaging, rummaging through its contents and pulling out two of the tiny rubbery gloves. They’re transparent and ribbed, obviously meant to deliver as many sensations as possible, and they’re about two inches in length. He slips them onto his index and middle finger, making scissoring motions for the purpose of symbolism, but mainly just to watch Y/N fidget. “I remember how you said you don’t have sex toys because you’d never really thought about buying any, so I went and picked these up down at my favorite shop. Jessi said they’re good for beginners.”

“Jessi?” Y/N’s voice is tight. She’s not sure how to respond to this; she’s never been in this situation before. No one has ever just given her a sex toy as if a were a candy bar. “Who’s Jessi and why do they need to know about my sex life?”

“She’s the manager.” Harry says matter-of-factly. He doesn’t seem to find anything strange about this encounter. “She helped me pick out my first pocket vag, so I trust her with my soul. Here, look. You just slip them on and—” He makes finger thrusting motions in the air, wiggling his digits playfully. “Big O. Not as good as what I can give you, obviously, but close enough.”

“Harry, you do realize this is a little…odd, right?”

The boy blinks at Y/N blankly. “What? Why? Sex is literally the basis of this whole thing.” He signals back and forth between them with his gloved forefinger. “It’s really not that weird at all, if y’think about it.”

“I just...it’s like…” 

Her argument fizzles to an end the longer she stares at him. He has the most wholesome expression painted across his handsome features, his eyes glossy with excitement. He looks genuinely elated about the present and she can’t find it in herself to question him any further. As unorthodox as this may be, it’s the first true act of kindness anyone has shown Y/N since she had moved to California. It’s the first time anyone has given the girl anything without her having to request it. She comes to the realization that Harry really is the only friend she has at the moment, and she refuses to pick and prod at that, lest he retract from her on the grounds that she’s ungrateful. Yes, this is a little atypical, but so is their whole dynamic. In his own twisted way, this is how Harry shows his friendship. 

The more she ponders on it, she starts to understand that this truly is something she should accept. He went out of his way to get her this gift, which solidifies their acquaintanceship. It’s sweet.

“You know what, never mind. Thank you! I love them.” 

The giddy smile that cracks his face melts her heart. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Harry then softly grasps her hand with his, tugging her down the entrance hallway, his intentions set on her bedroom. His voice takes on a deeper sultry twang, the corners of his mouth twitching suggestively. “Because on my way here, I was thinking, yeah? And I figured: who better to teach you how to use these than the person who picked them out.”

“Of fucking course.” Y/N huffs in amusement, shaking her head but allowing herself to be guided forward. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.” 

“Heyyyyy!” Harry’s whine is offended, but the coy simper dimpling his cheeks ruins any defense he could possibly try to spin. “This isn’t an ulterior motive, it’s simply a supporting one.”

“Right.” Y/N states flatly, shuffling forward slowly as he backs down her corridor, momentarily glancing over his shoulder to orient himself. “Buying a fuck buddy a sex toy is totally selfless and mutually exclusive of the agreement.”

Harry takes a turn and crosses the threshold into her bedroom, releasing her arm and instead, he opts for wrapping his fist into the loose material of her large Transformers tee, twisting the fabric around his knuckles and giving it a sharp yank. She stumbles into his chest and almost drops the box. 

The vampire gazes down at her with half-lidded eyes, long lashes tempting and plush lips the color of roses. “I never said it was mutually exclusive. I just said it wasn’t meant to be evidently inclusive.” 

He takes the box from her grip, sliding it onto her nightstand so that any obstacles between them are eliminated. He beckons her closer with a flick of his wrist, feeling heat erupt across his chest as her palms slap down against it to steady herself. She’s always so warm, almost like a furnace. It’s a nice contrast to his ever-present coldness.

Harry’s cupped fingers nurse the slope of her jaw, tilting her chin up to level his, Cupid’s bow ghosting over her own teasingly as a grin threatens to betray him. His accent is thick, heavy with condescension. “Now do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Y/N gulps audibly, the sudden jump in her heart rate causing Harry’s cock to give a foreshadowing twitch in his designer jeans. Her eyes soften with a form of weepy desire, head nodding in his grasp. 

Harry’s top teeth catch on his lower lip as he appraises her from over the crest of his defined cheekbones. “I don’t think I heard you, pet. Must be the AC draft.”

The mortal’s eyes fall shut as she composes herself, a shaky sigh faltering past her nostrils. She tips forward onto her toes, connecting her itching mouth to his. Harry allows it, listing his head to the side to grant her more access, his free arm roping across the dip of her spine and pressing her front flushed to his. The kiss is soft and heated, full of drunken tongues and muffled whimpers. It’s tame compared to most of the others they’ve shared, but Harry likes it. It’s sloppy and intimate; only the beginning of what he knows will be a long night. 

Her words sting the ridges of his lips, hot and bated. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Harry speaks into her mouth, tone gentle but packing a punch. “Get my belt off for me, will you? I’m tying you to the bed tonight.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, a dark chuckle vibrating across his tongue when her fingers immediately begin to fumble with his belt buckle. 

Once Harry has looped the leather tightly around Y/N’s wrists and has knotted them to one of the wooden railings of her headboard, he sits back on his heels to admire his work. Y/N is splayed out across her mattress with her arms suspended above her head, bare thighs clasped in anticipation as her t-shirt gathers around her waist. Her hands are curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as she watches Harry leisurely shrug off his cardigan, keeping eye contact with her the whole way through. His tattoos stand out against the buttery light of the single lamp on the table, tanned arms flexing sinfully. 

He shifts around, laying down onto his stomach and coasting his palms up her quivering legs, kissing over her kneecaps and along the crease of her inner thighs, bunching her shirt further up her body as he goes. As soon as he spots the first garter, he blacks out for a millisecond, vision washing red. 

“Fuck, wait— did you…?” His voice is strained and desperate as he shoves the rest of her clothes up her torso, pulling her shirt over her head and letting it rest at her elbows. He hums appreciatively when he’s met with the full cherry-colored lingerie set from a few days ago, garters and all. “God, you did.”

Y/N’s gaze falls timidly, a sheepish smile brushing over her face. “I thought you’d want to see it in person, since you seemed to like it so much.” 

“Mm...” Harry struggles to swallow, fingers hooking under the straps that clip to the hem of her underwear, pulling the fabric from her skin and letting them snap back into place. He revels in the tiny noise she lets slip, the pads of his digits now toying across the frilly bands encircling her upper legs. After a thoughtful heartbeat, Harry speaks up, wistful but vehement. “I’m going to make you soil your sheets again.” 

Y/N bucks a tad at his promise, wrists stressing against the leather belt, but Harry’s practiced enough bondage in his lifetime to know she won’t be getting out anytime soon. He parts her knees open with his palms, dragging his silicone-covered fingers down her clothed clit and tutting when she lets out a stuttery gasp. 

“Always so sensitive, aren’t you, angel?” The vampire pets at her core patiently, heat pooling at the base of his abdomen as he feels her panties damped with every stroke of his touch. “Christ, you’re already soaking through.”  

“Want more.” The girl’s plead is strangled as she actively forces herself to keep her legs wide open, knowing that if she were to allow them to snap shut, Harry would only pry them apart again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week. Please.”

“All week?” Harry drags tongue across the inside of her thigh, nipping at the flesh tauntingly, the amber specks in his eyes glittering amidst his lashes. He continues to rub through her underwear, drinking up all the little noises streaming from her throat. “Tread lightly, dove. You’re swelling my ego.”

“I just…” Her hips give another jerk when he wriggles two rubber-clad fingers into the crotch of her bottoms, spreading her open just a bit and grinning against her skin at how wet she’s become. “I just need it hard tonight, Harry. Need you to leave me sore.” 

“I always leave you sore.” The monster reasons mockingly, taking one of the garters between his teeth and tugging, releasing so it stings her like before. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.” 

Y/N trembles out an exhale, gathering herself enough to give him what he wants. “I need you to fuck me like you hate me.”

Harry grabs onto either sides of her panties, slowly peeling them down her legs and then scooting closer forward, planting an open-mouthed kiss right onto her bare clit. She mewls in return, her restraints creaking the bed. He continues pressing messy wet pecks to her cunt, feeling her tense up each time his soft lips suckle her fervently. 

“Is that why you sent that picture?” Harry wonders aloud, pausing his motions and raising one eyebrow at her. “Because you wanted me mad?”

The human nods, face wracked with guilt. It’s cute that she feels bad, especially because Harry had, in actuality, enjoyed her little stunt. Seeing her bent over like that, in a position that shows she couldn’t wait to please him— that she couldn’t wait until Friday came around so he could do to her whatever he deemed fit...It was the best form of edging he’s ever experienced. But for the sake of giving her what she wants, he’ll bite the bait. 

Harry rises up onto his knees, parting her thighs further as he fits himself between them, the pads of his gloved digits dancing across the thick of her damp clit. He bends down until his nose smudges over hers, the breath of his low words hot against her parted mouth. 

“Well, it fucking worked.”  

Harry taps his index and middle fingers against his palm in one quick flick and the tiny metal plates situated along the tips purr to life. He sinks knuckle-deep inside of Y/N, cold rings catching on her folds as he curls upwards to get at that special spot that resides along the pit of her tummy. The moan she releases it so raw and broken, it sends a zip of lightning through his veins. 

He fucks her like that for a while, with his strong chest poised against her heaving own as he marks love bites onto the cleavage spilling from her lace bra, his skilled fingers pumping into her at a harsh pace that has her legs shaking on either sides. He thumbs over her clit messily, the silicone molds sending waves of vibrations through her clenching walls as he relentlessly toys with her g-spot, her arms thrashing against his belt. Fragmented sounds of bliss freely stream from Y/N’s mouth without shame, his name intermingling amongst the whimpers as her head throws back against the headboard. Harry grips her throat in one hand, holding her to the sturdy surface as his other bobs between her thighs roughly, the bed groaning as a result of their intense actions. His wrist begins to ache from how hard he’s going, but the tears trickling out from the corners of Y/N’s eyes and the way she’s panting into his mouth are enough to keep him going.

“Look at me.” Harry squeezes her jugular tighter, garnering attention. She forces her eyelids open, inhales hiccuping when he braces his cool forehead to hers, his irises the color of a forest at midnight, pupils blown out of proportion. His teeth dig into her bottom lip just to feel it swell, a growl stirring the gravel in his chest. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Y-Yes.” Y/N boggles her head feverishly, glimpsing down over her sweaty cheeks to see the way his veins are chiseling along the forearm that is flexing between her drenched thighs. “Fuck, it’s so g-good.”

“Yeah? How about we go a little higher, hm?” Harry scrapes the pads of his fingers against that spongy place inside her, pressing the vibrators down and the motion clicks the toy into a higher level of intensity. 

Y/N writhes in his grasp, back arching off the headboard as deeper, more concentrated rumbles lap throughout her body. “Harry— I— that’s— God, just please!”

Harry takes ahold of her jaw as he continues finger-fucking her without remorse, his short breaths warm against her burning lips. “That’s my girl. Taking it hard and loving every second.” 

Y/N’s eyes lull back into her head. She doesn’t know why, but hearing Harry call her his girl satisfies her in a manner so deep, she didn’t know it existed. Just hearing him recognize her as his— as something he claims for himself, almost like an extension of who he is— stirs a foreign form of fulfillment in the back of her mind. 

“I’m—” The girl chokes on her sentence, finding it difficult to concentrate with so much pleasure coursing through her system, as well as with Harry painting hickies across the side of her strained neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

The immortal’s voice is stern and authoritative. “No, you’re not.” 

“I am, I can’t hold—”

“Yes,” Harry’s grip firms, pace sharpening into unapologetic slams, “you can. And you will. If you cum before I let you, you’re not getting anything else from me for the rest of the night. Do I make myself clear?”

Y/N’s cunt tightens around his fingers, warning him that she’s about to peak. “Harry, I’m sorry—but— but I—”

“Do I make myself clear?” 

Y/N has no hope that she can keep it in, but she adores the darkness swirling in Harry’s eyes at the moment and she’ll do anything if it means getting to witness it for a while longer. “Yes.” 

“Good.” She winces when she feels his teeth skim her earlobe, his whisper dripping with arrogant amusement. “I told you I’d make you regret it.” 

And he really does keep his oath. Minutes simulate hours as Harry continues to flirt her just along the seams of relief, pulling her back every time he sees her about to tip. Whenever he feels her begin to spasm around his slick fingers, he gives her a cautionary quirk of his brows accompanied by a testing, throaty, “Don’t you fucking dare.” or a simple, silent shake of his head. By some miracle, she manages to reign herself in every time, but each ruined orgasm makes it harder and harder to stifle the next. She doesn’t know how many times it happens; she stops counting after four. 

After what feels like decades of torture, Harry finally releases his hold around her jugular, allowing her to properly gulp air for the first time in a while. He sits back against his heels, pulling his hand from between her thighs with a sarcastic sympathetic hiss. “Poor thing.” 

He watches as a trail of her juices strings from his digits to her cunt, eventually snapping in the middle as he lifts his hand to study his work. Her release drips down his knuckles and palm, gleaming in the dim lighting. A mildly sadistic glint washes over Harry’s irises and for a split second, they look almost red, but Y/N dismisses it. Her brain is too fogged to trust right now. 

The boy’s sight flickers past his hand to where Y/N lies limply, wrists bruised from the bonds, arms quivering weakly, and legs trembling in overstimulation. He’s never seen her look more beautiful than now. 

He locks his bright eyes to her exhausted own, watching them shatter to pieces when he pushes his drenched fingers past his pillowy blushed lips. His lashes flutter as her taste washes across his tongue, sweet and decadent as always, a soft groan thrumming deep in his throat. God, he can only imagine how delectable her blood must be at the moment, honeyed by the plethora of endorphins he had repeatedly coaxed into her. He can't wait to feel its warmth fill his mouth later tonight.

Harry removes his fingers with a wet pop, licking across the back of his hand with finality and giving her a daring once-over. “Do you still want my cock? Or are you too sensitive for it, darling?”

He sounds so conceited and self-assured, it causes Y/N’s pride to flare. She wants to make him eat his stupid words.  

The mortal licks her chapped lips, wetting her dry throat and clearing it softly, wiping away the sweat on her forehead with her shoulder. “I still want it.” 

An impressed expression decorates Harry’s features. “You think you can take it?”

Y/N’s jaw clenches with dedication, her thighs spreading open a tad more and she wills herself not to flinch. Her chin cocks upwards. “I know I can.” 

Harry’s brows kink challengingly, a borderline evil smirk sewing onto his face. “Let’s see, then.” 

As it turns out, Y/N can take it. However, she knows for a fact she won’t be able to walk right for at least the next week.

Harry lowers his jeans and kicks them off, reaching into his navy briefs and tugging himself out, giving his length a few pumps for good measure as he shifts forward toward her. He flips the girl onto her belly as easily as he’d turn a sheet of paper, tying one arm around her hips and lifting them up as he slides a pillow below. He situates her accordingly onto the cushion, her ass slightly elevated to give him more range of depth. He pats at her backside lightly, telling her to part her knees and she does so obediently, gripping onto the leather strap around her wrists anxiously when she feels the bed shift with his weight. Harry lowers himself over her body, the tee covering his broad chest soaking up the thin sheet of sweat on her back. He moves all of her tangled hair to the side, burying his fingers into her roots and yanking her head back cheekily. He runs his nose across her damp cheekbone and chuckles when she jumps slightly at the feathery sensation. 

“You’re pretty stubborn, aren’t you?” 

Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip as she struggles to swallow, throat taut from the angle he’s put her in. Her voice carries a confident bite, despite her compromisable position. “I like to think I am, yeah.” 

“Well, you know what that makes you, right?” Harry murmurs as he lines himself up with her entrance. 

“Mm-mm. What?” 

The vampire presses a lingering kiss to the tittering pulse in her temple, feeling it thunder below his skin as he forms his next comment slowly with an ominous edge. “It makes you a brat.” 

He feels her heartbeat trip. 

“And you know what I do to brats?” 

Y/N shakes her head as much as his dominant grasp will allow, body tightening in suspense. 

“I fuck them until they break.” 

Y/N learns that he’s telling the truth. The first thrust Harry delivers is swift, hard, and unbelievably deep; it causes her to let out a choked scream that no one else has ever drawn from her before, except for him. It’s like he can tap into certain aspects of her body she was unaware of; parts of her waiting for the right person to come along and reveal them. She feels that stroke rip into her tummy, but the pain of his size is something she’s become accustomed to in the last three weeks. She hardly feels it anymore; it had molded from a sharp throb to a dull ache, due to how often she’s experienced it. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time, quickly picking up a sloppy, adamant pace that has her hips bouncing against the mattress. He twists her hair around his fist, mouth pressed to the side of her head as his hot pants of exertion send a prickling through her scalp. His other forearm keeps him anchored to the bed as he pounds into her with absolutely no hesitation, the sound of skin slapping, cracked whines, and raspy grunts filling the tense atmosphere of her chilly room. 

“Is this what you were hoping would happen when you sent that slutty picture?” Harry grits out, short nails digging into the comforter beneath. “Wanted to get me all riled up just so I’d do your back in?”

Y/N mewls weakly in response, hands clinging to each other within the makeshift cuffs. 

“If you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you, you could have just asked. I’m more than happy to give you whatever you want. You don’t have to tempt me.” The vampire gives a particularly deep slam, laughing breathily when the girl’s back instinctively arches forward, paired with a watery yelp of, “Oh!”

Harry’s tongue grazes across the shell of her ear, teeth catching the skin. “But since you did, I’ll give it to you just— like—that.” His thrusts match to each word, fingers coiling harder into her locks. “You deserve it. Especially when you had the nerve to act like such a spoiled little brat right to my face.” 

Y/N’s not sure what emboldens her to speak, but her snarky remark is already halfway down her numb tongue before she can stop it. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

Harry hums tauntingly, circling his hips in long strides that urge a series of fractured whimpers to scrape out of Y/N’s sore throat. “Say it again. Go ahead, say it. I want to see you try.”

She remains silent, spine shuddering as she bites down on her tongue to avoid making any more noises that might condemn her.  

Harry roughly cranes Y/N’s neck to the side, buttoning their lips together in a filthy kiss that has her cheeks boiling. “That’s what I thought. The only thing that sharp tongue is good for is licking down my cock.” 

She gasps against his mouth shakily, tears of sheer bliss gathering along her waterline. “You’re such a fucking asshole.” 

Harry can tell her comment holds no true malice behind it; she’s too sweet on him— too whipped on what he gives her— to ever mean it. She’d only said it to provoke him into a power dynamic struggle. But the thing is, Harry’s dealt with feeling powerless before, so he had spent years teaching himself how to win. How to always win. 

“Am I, now?” His next line dismantles her entire plan. “Would an asshole let you cum?”

And just like that, her whole demeanor crumbles. “I take it back. I’m s-sorry.”

Harry releases her hair and nips at her ear mockingly, beginning to withdraw himself. “Oh, I think it’s a bit too late for that, minx.”

“No, no! Harry, please. I’m sorry. Genuinely. I promise I won’t say it again. Just…” She tugs helplessly at the belt restraints, trying to twist around to look at him directly. Her voice is wringed out. “Just please.”

The boy pushes a few stringy curls out of his eyes, pressing his tongue into his cheek coyly as he glances down, suggestively smoothing one hand over her ass. He gives it a firm squeeze, lifting his palm teasingly and feeling her tense in anticipation. “Do you want it?”

Y/N glimpses at his bejeweled hand with hunger, then back at his eyes. “Yes.”

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it.”

“Sorry, I seem to have forgotten what ‘it’ was, exactly. Jog my memory, will you? What is it you want?”

Her irises harden in spite at his shit-eating comment. He’s well aware of how shy she can be when it comes to admitting she wants a spanking, and he’s playing that to his advantage. He’s swimming in the way she squirms. 

“I...I want you to spank me.”

He tsks, shaking his head as he twists his HS rings around to face inwards. “You forgot something.” 

Y/N’s fingers tighten into begrudging fists. “I want you to spank me, please.”

“There’s a good girl.” His low, accented purr sends electricity through her nerves. “You’re so cute when you beg.”

Harry’s hand comes down swiftly, digits fanned out so that all of his rings print across her backside. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to leave a satisfying sting. He loves the way she jolts forward with a hushed curse of surprise, and he adores seeing the shape of his initials marked across her clammy skin. It’s poetic, almost.

“So pretty.” His mumble is wistful as he massages deeply over the region he had just bruised, but it holds unyielding authority. “Whose is it, doll?”

“Yours.” 

“And don’t you fucking forget it.” The creature lifts one palm to do it again, pausing once more just to rev her further. He reaches forward with the other, shoving her face-first into the mattress to get her back to straighten out. “Look forward and don’t make a single sound.”

Y/N obeys, but manages to sneak a peek at his reflection through the waxy wooden surface of her aged bedframe. He looks so good perched behind her with bare heaving shoulders, looking down at her exposed figure over the crests of his sharp cheekbones, brows furrowed into a starved expression that gives away he’s enjoying this probably more than she is. Her voice comes out small and weak. “Yes, sir.”

Harry’s entire face tightens at the word and she feels him throb against her backside. 

“Now beg me to let you cum.”

///

The next morning when Y/N’s eyes flutter open to the grey light streaking in through her curtains, the first thing she senses is a pair of eyes staring at the side of her face. 

She turns her stiff body over toward where the sensation stems and sure enough, she’s met with a pair of sea glass irises filled to the brim with humor. Harry’s laying on his side with his hands tucked below one of her pillows, tousled ringlets sticking up in wild tuffs (thanks to the activities they’d engaged yesterday), he’s completely bare since he likes sleeping nude (though he’d had the decency to cover himself with sheets from the waist down), and his voice is slower and raspier than usual (a result of being dormant for the last eight or so hours). 

“You drool in your sleep.” 

Y/N tucks her hands against Harry’s cold pectorals, snuggling deeper into his chest and pinching at one of his nipples in playful revenge. “No, I don’t.” 

“Yes,” he reaches up and shoos her hand away, proceeding to wipe at the side of her mouth, where dried spit had accumulated. He makes a theatrical gagging face, cleaning his thumb off across the collar of her t-shirt. “You do.”

Y/N sighs in exasperation, making a bold leap to a different topic to avoid talking about her embarrassing sleep habits. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you staring at people while they sleep is weird? Like, serial killer weird?” 

Harry tucks a few matted strands of hair behind the human’s ear, thumbing over her cheekbone tenderly. He hardly ever indulges in such actions, simply because they’re typically reserved for actual couples, which he and Y/N are definitely not. But last night— after he had finally finished being a prick and allowed her cum along with him, and after she had fallen into the bed with exhaustion taking her under, and after he’d had his greedy fill of her blood for the week— he’d gotten bored of playing on his phone. He’d burned through three cold case documentaries on Netflix and played enough Mario Kart to memorize the race charts; it had grown old quickly, and he eventually just locked the device and placed it on her nightstand. He spent the next hour staring at her hideous ceiling, and the one after that fantasizing about taking down her tapestry and burning it in the oven. And finally, after hours of mindless daydreams and letting his eyes chase the city lights dancing across the walls of her room, he had settled onto his side and watched her sleep. 

Harry did it simply because he had nothing else to distract him. He figured it would eventually bore him enough that maybe— just maybe, if he was lucky— he would fall asleep alongside her. But he didn’t, so he just ended up gazing at her slumbering face until dawn. He had been surprised by how oddly beautiful Y/N looked sleeping— how relaxed and tranquil, with her features soft and skin seemingly made of flawless porcelain. That intrigue had bled into the moment they share now, resulting in his touch drifting down the curve of her jaw and across the faint dimple on her chin. He follows the slope of her neck and admires the smoothness of her flesh with the ridges of his fingertips, hearing her breathing stutter ever so slightly. His heightened senses make it feel as if he’s running his digits over velvet and the only concept he can compare it to is touching forbidden artwork at an exhibit. It’s exciting, but he knows that if he keeps going, he could end up getting himself into a crock of shit. 

When the pads of his fingers land on two prominent purple bruises he’d forgotten existed, he’s broken from his soft stupor. He retracts his touch as if she were made of iron, forcing himself to ignore the pout that automatically plumps her delicate lips. 

He clears his throat awkwardly, a tight chuckle stringing his vocal chords. “Staring at someone in their sleep seemed to work just fine for Edward Cullen, though.” 

Y/N snorts sharply, rolling her eyes up towards her headboard. When she sees his belt is still hanging off of it from the night prior, she hurriedly glances back down, pretending not to have seen it. 

“It’s funny you say that because as I recall, he literally admitted to being a murderer. I believe his exact words were,” she exaggerates her voice into an angsty cry, grasping at her chest dramatically, “‘This is the skin of a killer, Bella!’”

Harry bursts into boyish giggles, falling fully onto his back and swiping his palm up his face, fingers remaining perched over his closed eyes as he laughs. He sighs airily, shaking his head as an afterthought. “What a moron.” 

“Truly. His dad was hotter.” 

“Way hotter.” Harry agrees passionately, burying his hand into his messy curls, attempting to comb out some of the tangles. “And he was a doctor. What a man.” 

“Bella really fucked that one up. She had a midlife crisis over choosing between a sad vampire who looked like he had chronic constipation, and a yappy dog with a shirt phobia. All when Carlisle was right there. Brain damage, honestly.” 

“A moment of prayer for the mentally incapacitated. Couldn't be me!”

“Couldn’t be me, either.”   

“Fuck, yeah.” Harry throws his hand up, inviting Y/N to give him a high five. “To good taste.”

She gladly delivers. “Exquisite taste.”

An instance of comfortable silence suspends between the pair of lovers, filled with the soft thrum of the air vent and the distant chirping of birds outside Y/N’s windowpane. She traces her index nail over the wings of the swallow tattoos along Harry’s collarbones, seeming to be deep in thought. She then speaks up once again.

“Emmett was pretty hot, as well.” 

“You know what? I’m happy you mentioned that ‘cause— full disclosure here— I’d ride him like a fucking bull.” 

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to explode in a fit of giggles, nose scrunching and eyes crinkling shut as she loses herself at Harry’s graphic confession. 

“Why are you laughing?!” The fact that he sounds genuinely appalled only spurs her sounds of glee. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t take that chance if you got it. Like, okay, he’s an airhead, yeah? I’m aware. But fuck’s sake, look at his body. I’d happily let him beat me at arm wrestling if it means I get that celebratory dick afterwards.”

The mortal manages to calm down a handful of heartbeats later and Harry feels strangely proud of how he’d made her pulse spike. 

“You’re valid for that, don’t worry. I couldn’t have said it—” A single giggle interupts her sentence, but she reigns it in before it can spiral. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Literally. There’s no way to express it better than exactly how you stated it.” 

Harry smirks softly up at the ceiling, folding his free arm behind his head as the other wraps securely down Y/N’s back, absentmindedly rubbing in gentle soothing circles. “My mind. It’s amazing, innit?”

“It’s definitely something.” 

Another span of cozy quietness fills the atmosphere of the room, longer than the last. Harry doesn’t mind. He finds it appeasing, and he continues to delight himself with running his touch up and down Y/N’s spine. He’s not sure how much time passes, but he’s aware that it’s probably a bit. His theory is supported by how he witnesses the beam of watery light that filters over the duvet gradually fade from silver to a sunflower yellow, indicating full daybreak. 

Even then, he doesn’t say a word, too caught up in this innocent bubble of domestic bliss to pop it so suddenly. He just lays there and listens. Listens to the birds harmonizing with each other across the branches of the tree outside. To the steady breaths that fill Y/N’s lungs with cool air, faltering past her nostrils in the same manner and fogging the metal of his cross necklace. To the faint sound of footsteps trotting down the staircase outside her apartment, and to the vague spritz of the sprinkler system going off at the front of the complex. To the distant honking of car horns in traffic, and to a random conversation between two friends as they walk past the pavement just under Y/N’s balcony. He hasn’t felt this at ease in eons. 

Harry just allows himself to grow in tune with the world around him— a world he’d been convinced was against him for the longest time. A world he was convinced stole his happiness and replaced it with the shackles of a blood-driven afterlife, for no other reason than because he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and met the wrong person. But now, he feels like he’s in the right place, at the right time, spending it with the right person— or at least a half-decent person— and he doesn’t want to let it slip between his fingers so soon. He wants to bask in it, even if he knows it’ll pass. 

And eventually, it does pass, and Y/N is the one who brings it to an end. 

The girl slowly peels away from Harry’s side, his lips dipping downwards slightly at the loss of the warmth she radiates. He thinks she’s about to get up to probably go use the bathroom or to make breakfast, but instead, she just bends her upper body over the edge of her bed to retrieve something from the floor. She comes back up with the box he’d brought her the evening before (which had ended up on the ground as a result of her bed rocking violently), setting it in the small space between their laps. She then returns to her place cuddled into his torso, looking up at him with an expression that Harry can only interpret as expecting. 

The vampire glances down at the container and then back up to Y/N’s face, raising his eyebrows curiously, voice tinged with comedy. “What did I say about bringing sex toys to the dinner table?”

Y/N stares up at him flatly for a second, fighting off a smile. “I just wanted to thank you again. It’s nice of you to bring me a present, even as strange as this one.” 

Harry sucks at his teeth, waving a hand dismissively, blinking down at her with slyness sparkling around his pupils. “What are friends for, if not for buying you vibrating finger gloves and then fucking you with them until you cry?”

Despite having been acquainted with Harry’s crude humor for three weeks now, it still manages to make Y/N’s cheeks sizzle. It could also be the fact that this is the first time Harry has openly accepted Y/N as a friend. It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned her name and that word in the same sentence, meaning that she can now shake a weight off her shoulders— a weight that had insisted he was only using her for sex, that he would eventually grow bored of her, and that he would throw her away once he was done. It’s good to know that’s not the case, and that the friendship aspect of their agreement is true to its name. 

“Right.” Y/N’s smile is full of so much genuine warmth, Harry feels like she could outshine the sun. “What are friends for, if not that. Thanks, Harry.” 

He wonders what she’s thinking, and he finds himself wishing that he had the one valid trait that idiot Edward Cullen possesses: mind-reading. But he doesn’t have it, so he simply returns her gesture and skates the conversation how he best deems fit. “You don’t have to call me ‘Harry’ all the time, you know?” 

Y/N’s brows cinch in entertained confusion. “What would I call you, then? Sherlock?” 

Harry scoffs lightly at the inside joke, shrugging one shoulder casually. “I mean, you could, if you want to. It might take some getting used to, but I think I can shoulder a full-time second identity. Just for you.” 

“How chivalrous.”

“You ain’t ever met a man like me, sweetheart.” He boasts in an over-the-top American southern accent, prying another round of laughter from Y/N, similar to the one before. “But you could also just call me ‘H.’ It’s what most of my other friends use.” 

“H.” Y/N repeats, getting a taste for the new nickname. It’s simple, unlike him, but it somehow fits. She then recalls something from a show she’d watched when she was younger and she can’t help but bring it up. “So, like, just your first initial? Like in Gossip Girl?”

Harry’s face immediately drops at the comparison she makes to the cringey teenage soap opera. “You know what, I take it back. You’re not allowed to use it. Illegal. Banned. By an official court. Gavel and all.”

“I’m just making a point!”

“Yeah, a shitty one.” 

“Oh, whatever. You’re just mad I debunked your little hipster alter ego. ‘That’s a secret I’ll never tell. Xoxo, H.’”

“Restraining order.” Harry pinches at one of her love handles, an evil grin dimpling his cheeks when she squeals. “Actually, nevermind. We’re going straight to the electric chair. Immediately.” 

“You don’t get to decide my punishment, remember?” Y/N slaps at his wrists, trying to ward off his attacks but failing miserably. “You’re just the—stop!— just the executioner.” 

“That’s right. I get to strap you to the chair.” Harry finally lets up on the tickling, his lighthearted grin taking on a slightly seductive hue as he momentarily glimpses upwards towards where his belt is hanging. “Though you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck off.” Y/N smothers her palm against his face, breaking eye contact as she feels her ears bristle with heat.  

“Mm, exactly.” Harry gnashes at her hand playfully, but she manages to yank it away before he gets a bite in. “You can’t even admit you like being called a whore.” 

“Hey!”

“What?” The vampire gives her a cocky look, wagging his head knowingly and then mimicking her voice in a higher pitch. “‘I’m just making a point!’”

“You’re a dick, you really are.” 

“And yet you still ride mine, so who’s the one with the real issues here? Specifically, daddy issues.”

“I’m done with this conversation.” Y/N huffs, returning her attention to the box beside her thigh, muffling the twitching across her lips. 

She takes the cardboard into her hands, tracing over the small flap used to pry the top open. Harry watches her with interest, pondering as to what could possibly be scurrying around her skull that she seems so caught up with the context of the gift. He’d gotten it because he knew they would both benefit from it. It’s as simple as that. 

“You know,” she starts, but her gaze remains glued to the box, “I feel kinda bad ‘cause, like...You got me this gift, I have nothing to give you in return.” 

Harry’s face contorts into a silly frown for a moment, tone humorous. “It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t have to give me anything back. I got it ‘cause I knew we’d enjoy using it together, and because this way, you have something to play with when I’m not around. And you can send me videos of said instances. It’s truly a win-win. A double-ended gift.” 

“I suppose.” She mumbles softly, continuing to pick at the lip of cardboard sticking out. “But I feel like it’s only fair that you get to use it, too, don’t you think?”

And then the reason she’s insistent about this dawns on Harry. The way she’s avoiding looking at him directly, how her heart rate is slowly ebbing upwards, how she is gradually scooting closer to his body, how he can feel her thighs are clasped tightly below the comforter. How the scent of honey and lavender has intensified. How she keeps glancing towards where the sheets are crumpled messily around his hips in a haphazard attempt to remain civil. 

When the monster speaks, it carries all the arrogance brought forward by his discovery. “If you wanna give me a handjob with the toy on, just say so.” 

The human’s head snaps upwards, her expression one of utter alarm at his lewd comment, but he can see right through her act. It’s obvious that was her intention all along— the desire in her eyes is poorly masked. She looks so adorable, pretending not to know what he’s referring to, her palms gripping the box slightly tighter than before. 

Harry twirls a strand of her hair around his finger nonchalantly, giving it a jesting tug. “I just find it funny how much of a horny menace you can be.”

“What—?”

“And it’s not even ten A.M. yet.”

“What do you—?” 

“Y/N,” Harry sighs tiredly, giving her an omniscient look, “I’ve slept with you enough times to know when you want something. It’s written all over your body language and you’re pretty shit at hiding it in your eyes. Just admit you want to and I’ll let you.” 

The faux shock slowly melts off her face, replaced by sheepish humiliation at being so easily sussed out. She chews on her bottom lip pensively, struggling to sew together the appropriate words to communicate the very inappropriate activity she wants to engage in. Harry has to withhold from leaning down and taking a bite from her tempting mouth.  

She inhales a deep breath through her nose, puffing it out slowly and tapping her fingers across the box nervously. Her voice pipes up so softly, it’s almost inaudible. “I want to give you a handjob with the toy.”

Harry gently cards his fingers into the mussed roots along the back of her head, using that hold to guide her sight upwards until it meets his. He leans down, smearing his lips over her own, feeling static pass through the ridges of their skin. “That’s all you had to say, darling. Go ahead, then. Make me cum.” 

Y/N swallows thickly, lashes fluttering bashfully as she pastes her mouth to his in a soft kiss. It’s a simple action with just their lips and nothing else. No tongue, no teeth, no sucking, nothing sloppy or desperate— not yet, anyways. He can tell she does it as a way to ease herself into this. She wants to, that much is arousingly obvious, but for some crazy reason unbeknownst to him, she’s still shy about it. That’s what happens when you come from a conservative raising: you get intimacy issues. He of all people— with his Victorian era background— would know. 

The hand Harry has cupping the nape of her neck shifts over a smidge, ending up splayed across the side of her face. His palm rests on her cheekbone and his fingers in her locks, his wrist cradling the back of her skull as he patiently deepens the kiss. His chest begins to heave slightly, a familiar sensation already frothing at the trench of his stomach. Harry can feel Y/N’s clumsy movements as she unboxes the vibrators, digging through the packaging and trying to slip them on blindly, not wanting to break away from his embrace. The way he’s flirting his tongue along the inside of her top lip is just too consuming to leave. 

After a few seconds of grappling and a string of annoyed curse words, Harry giggles lightly into her mouth, nudging the tip of his nose across the bridge of hers. The jade tint in his irises is waltzing with amusement, all at her expense. “Sometime today, love.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I just— I can’t— they won’t—” The mortal releases an irritated growl into their kiss, reluctantly splitting away when it becomes clear she won’t be able to get the rubber gloves on without giving the task her full attention. “God, I’m such a...Sorry.” 

Harry rolls his eyes in mirth, pecking sweetly along the angry creases present over her forehead and between her brows. He thumbs over her cheek affectionately to soothe her nerves, his other hand scratching distractedly at the back of his neck. He filters curls through his fingers as he waits, bicep jolting in the process. “It’s fine, I’m just teasing. I’m not going anywhere, babe.”

“Thanks. Just give me—” The girl pauses her actions for a second, jutting her chin back up towards him and locking the vampire into another quick kiss, solely for the purpose of keeping him interested while she figures herself out. She breaks away again, returning to her mission. “Just give me a minute.” 

Now that she can see, Y/N successfully wriggles all five of her fingers into their designated molds. She prods at them gingerly, copying Harry’s actions from the night prior, using that experience as a manual. The mini-vibrators purr to life, a buzzing sensation trickling down her fingers. She glances back up at an awaiting Harry, who gives her such an easy, good-natured smile, she instantly reaches up and glues their mouths together again. 

“You’re so eager.” The boy grins into the kiss, jumping a bit when he feels her tittering fingers duck beneath the covers around his lower torso. “It’s hot.” 

“I just want to make you feel good.” Y/N mumbles, one palm braced to his strong shoulder as the other rides down his bare abdomen. She can feel his grip on her hair tightening the closer she gets to his cock. “That’s all.” 

“Guess I’m just the luckiest— shit.” Harry’s quip is interrupted when Y/N wraps her digits around his length, giving it one slow, testing pump. His jaw drops open and he begins panting into her mouth, the corners of his lips ticking upwards into a smirk as an intense pleasure swells between his thick thighs. “Jesus fucking Christ, that feels— fuck, that’s incredible, oh my God.”

“Yeah?” The human asks timidly, gazing up at him dreamily from below her lashes as his eyes lull back into his head. “Not too much?” 

Harry loves how attentive she is— how she’s checking to make sure he’s alright before continuing. If he had a heart, it would surely be glowing right now. 

Harry gulps down the lump in his throat, voice more strained and needy than she’s ever heard it. “No, I’m good, I’m good. Keep going.” 

Y/N gradually sinks her palm back down to his base, feeling his cock twitch desperately as the vibrators work their magic. She slowly slinks back up to his tip, thumbing over it carefully, pressing the toy on her thumb pad right over his slit. The garbled moan that emits from Harry is a sound her ears will never forget. It’s a sound she wishes she could record and listen to on a loop. 

“Fucking hell, don’t— please, just— oh—” Harry stutters through a plead, voice bleeding, naked chest now heaving wildly against her own. His hips buck forward into her hand, but she maintains a steady grip, keeping the vibrator pressed to the center of his cock’s head. 

“Don’t what?” She whispers into his mouth, suckling at his Cupid’s bow and reveling in the little broken noises he pours onto her tongue. 

Harry’s breaths are shallow and pained, the grip on her hair stronger than she thought possible as the fingers of his opposite hand yank at his own feverishly. He’s barely able to choke out his next sentence. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Y/N begins to fish for a solid rhythm, her strokes setting into medium pace and gauging the receiver's reaction. “How’s that?” 

Bright colors web across Harry’s eyelids and he feels like his soul is being torn from his body. “Y-Yeah, that’s perfect, baby. It’s so good— you’re so good.” 

“I am?” Y/N swipes her thumb over his tip again, and when he whimpers brokenly against her lips, she does it again. It urges the same exact reaction, but more shattered. So she does it again. And again, and again, and again. And each time it happens, his hips jerk more violently, chasing her intoxicating touch. She can feel Harry’s precum drip down his length and leak between the cracks of her fingers. 

“You are, you’re just so fucking good to me.” Harry’s spewing words at this point, brain half conscious, half floating in bliss. Whatever dam of common sense holds his mind together crumbles, all of his thoughts rushing out in the form of jumbled phrases and cracked whines. “You get me going like nothing else, pet. You get me going so easily, it’s embarrassing. You make me cum so hard, it feels like I’m touching h-heaven. And your mouth— God, y-your mouth. It’s the best I’ve ever had. It’s so soft and warm, and your lips are so pretty and silky. I could kiss you for hours. And your tongue— you know how to use it so well. You lick me once and I’m already on edge. And every time you get down on your knees, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Y/N sighs shakily at Harry’s string of confessions, staring up at him with wide eyes as his own stay shut loosely, long lashes perched on his rosy cheekbones, handsome features slack with euphoria. She doesn’t halt her motions, continuing to pump him excitedly. The girl passes her thumb over his tip every time she gets to the top, and gives a hard squeeze every time she thunks down against his base, twisting her wrist as she glides back and forth between the two points of reference. That combination seems to work well, evident in the steady stream of vulgarities falling from Harry’s swollen lips as he thrusts upwards to match her pace. His groans splash across her tongue, traveling down her throat and burning into her stomach. She wants him to cum probably more than he does.

Y/N glimpses down, watching her sheets tent as she works Harry over, the outline of her knuckles pressing into the turquoise fabric. It’s such an erotic scene and she knows it’ll be branded across the front of her brain for years to come. She cranes her neck back up to look at the vampire, her breath catching in her lungs. He looks so pretty with his dark pink lips parted in pleasure, his damp ringlets matting along his sweaty hairline, his structured jaw ticking, and his usually sharp traits softened by ecstasy. She’ll do anything to make that image last.  

“Tell me more.” Y/N murmurs, swimming in the praise he is so willing to dish out. 

His eyes flicker for a heartbeat and in that instance, they look oddly darker than normal. Almost crimson, but she knows it’s due to the shadow of his lashes. The words that spill from his mouth next make her forget all about that occurrence, his voice melodic and dark, sticky against her wet lips. 

“Your hands are one of my favorite things about you, I think. They’re smaller than mine and I love how your fingers don’t touch when you wrap them around my cock. I love how they leave my back raw with scratches, and I love how they look tied to the bedpost. I love it when they press flat against my chest when you ride me, and how you lean back on them when I’m on my knees with my head between your thighs. I love how they yank at my hair when you’re about to cum, and how they grip my upper arms when we make-out. I love how your nails dig into my thighs when you're going down on me, and how they look fisting at the sheets when I’m taking you from behind. And I love how they feel tugging me off, like you’re doing now. I just love how perfect they are— how perfect you are.” 

Y/N is left speechless, Harry’s monologue ringing in her heated ears as he gazes at her intensely amidst heavy, barely-cracked eyelashes. His broad chest gasps for air and he takes it upon himself— despite his wrecked appearance— to smush their mouths deeper together, pooling moans across the roof of her own.  

“I’m—” His breathing throttles, voice coming out softer than she’s heard it in the last three weeks. “I’m gonna cum.”

Y/N nods her head numbly, strokes becoming lazy and fast, eager for him to finish. “I want you to. I want you to cum for me so bad. Please?” 

Harry’s hips writhe in a tell-tale sign that he’s about to tip. His whimper tastes sweet on her tongue, the meaning behind it pure syrup to her ego. “You’re the only one who makes me feel this good.”

The mortal whines gently in return, eyes falling shut as she feels him grow heavier in her palm. “You’re the only one I want to make feel this good.” 

The knot of white hot pleasure in his belly begins to unravel, his entire spine shuddering as a result, all strain beginning to wash out of his system in spurts if blissful electricity. He can feel his orgasm racing up his prick, pulling his composure along with it. He gives one last jerk against Y/N’s cupped fingers, feeling her press her vibrating thumb over his slit one more time for good measure. When the first milky ribbon spurts out, that’s when he feels it. 

Harry’s eyelids fly open in alarm as black veins protrude along the whites of his eyes, all his muscles contracting at once, defense mode activated. Y/N’s lips are on his neck. 

His first instinct is to do what he always does and guide her away from that sensitive, highly forbidden area. His fist tightens in her hair and he’s about to yank her back up to his mouth when suddenly, the icy tension present in his veins disappears. It’s replaced by a soothing warmth, which travels through every crevice in his body and kindles his climax, his impulsive hatred for being touched in that specific region funneling away completely. He can’t remember a time where this has happened before. 

Harry’s grip loosens hesitantly as he treads into this unexplored territory, allowing her to continue suckling along his throat. The sensation would usually garner a reaction similar to that of a molten metal brand being placed on his skin, but now— for some startling reason— he doesn’t feel any contempt. He just feels relaxed and cradled in the best way imaginable. The impact is pleasant this time around, and he finds himself wanting more of it. So, he lets her give him more. He lets this strange girl kiss and gasp and lick against his jugular while she finishes getting him off, his own desperate sounds of need bouncing around the brick walls of her bedroom. He lets her coax wave after wave of cum out of him, feeling it splatter against her bedspread and coat over her hand. He whines and grunts into the hair along the crown of her head, tears blearing his eyes as her scent of sugar and flowers clouds his mind. And when his release finally sputters to an end, he lets out an elongated groan so deep, it makes his chest ache.

“Fuck. You’re...You’re an absolute angel.”

Y/N draws her hand out from beneath the bed sheets, turning off the vibrating finger pads by pressing them against her palm. She looks down at the milky substance covering the toys and before Harry can make even a sound of encouragement, she’s already licking it off each individual piece. The girl looks up at the vampire as she cleans every trace of him off her fingers, swallowing it all down with a doe-like tint across her hazy gaze and murmuring a soft, “You taste good.” over a full mouth. Harry just watches silently, heavy breathing slowly starting to even out. God, she really is such a fucking godsend.

The next couple of minutes list by in a blur, all of his focus taken up by the feeling of unsettlement pricking at the back of his brain. Why had he let her touch him there? Why had he let her touch him in a place no one has since before his death?

Y/N puts the toys back in their box, putting them off to the side to thoroughly clean later. She reaches down, bunching up her bedspread in her hand and wiping Harry’s pelvis, thighs, and tummy down until he’s decently clean, as well as whatever is left on her hand. She then snuggles up to his side once again, laying her head into the crook between his arm and pectoral muscles, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully along with him. The irritating red tint across Harry’s chest, stomach, and neck gradually fades away, and he barely flinches when he feels her sponge her lips against his Adam’s Apple. She lulls the tip of her middle finger up along the vein of his cock one more time for finality, smiling slyly when he hisses in sensitivity.

The immortal tilts his head down to appraise her, sniffling lightly and allowing a weak, watery smile across his raw lips. His tone is feathery and detached. “That was…Christ.”

Y/N giggles softly, nodding along to his unspoken opinion. “It was fun. Really fun. We should do it again sometime.” 

Harry splutters into a drunken laugh, mind still floating around the room. “I don’t think I could survive that again.”

Y/N grins up at him cheekily. “Pussy.” 

Her friend breaks into an expression of utter offense, cheeks still slightly rosy. He shoves her head roughly as vengeance. “Hey! Piss off. Don’t blame it on me, blame it on the male anatomy.” 

The girl shakes her head up at him, eyebrows shrugging mockingly. “Excuses, excuses.” 

“Whatever.” 

A moment passes, and then Y/N speaks up again, her index finger poking playfully into the center of his bare chest, right over the butterfly tattoo. “Also, you’re washing my sheets. Your mess, you clean it up.”

Harry grins against her forehead, scratching lightly at the back of her scalp. “Fair enough…Wait, is that why you wanted to do this? ‘Cause you knew I’d soil your sheets and you could force me to do your laundry?”

That hadn’t been her motive at all, and Harry knows that, but she plays along anyways for the hell of the joke. “Perhaps.” 

“Wow. I feel used.” 

“Too bad. Go do it. Now. Before it stains.”

Harry stares at her like she’s sprouted a second head. “I literally can’t walk right now! I can’t feel anything below my waist.”

Y/N lifts the comforter off her body, symbolically showing off the bruises his fingertips and rings had left the night before. “Well, neither can I!” 

Harry reaches down and touches the marks, chuckling to himself. “How unfortunate. Who’s gonna make breakfast, then, if neither of us can even stand?”

“We could UberEats some iHop.” 

“Who’s gonna get the door?”

“Well, I can’t solve everything on my own, now can I?!” Y/N slaps his hand away from her body. “Contribute! You’re the lead detective, after all.” 

“I am, aren’t I?” Harry cocks his head to the side in recollection, remembering his role in their imaginary dynamic duo scenario. “And because I’m the lead, I say…” He ropes his lean arms around the human and buries his face into her warm neck, pulling her close and intertwining their legs together, trapping her to the mattress along with him. “I say we just bum around for a bit longer. Just until one of us can actually muster up the strength to leave the bed.” 

Y/N makes an exasperated noise in the back of her throat, but makes no apparent attempt to leave his embrace. “Fine.” 

“Mystery solved, then! Elementary, my dear Watson.”

“You’re so dumb.” 

The pair stay cuddled for a bit, with Y/N’s hands loosely gripping Harry’s forearms, tracing across his mermaid tattoo absently. She wanders in her thoughts for a period of time, lost in the sensation of Harry’s warm breath fanning down her neck, his hot lips pressing small kisses behind her ear every once in a while. She likes their morning after routine; it’s innocent and fun and sharing moments like this makes it easy to forget her troubles. She wants more of this, and she finds herself trying to come up with ways to convince Harry to spend the night more often. This is only the fourth time he’s stayed until morning and she wants that number to grow. 

An idea dawns on her and she’s voicing it before her inhibitions can kill it off.

“Do you...Do you maybe wanna stay over the rest of the weekend?”

Harry draws his face from the alcove of her soft neck, eyebrows poised in curiosity. “The rest of the weekend?”

“Yeah!” Y/N shifts her gaze up to look at him, hope swirling around her pupils. “Like, spend the rest of today and tomorrow over, and then leave tomorrow night ‘cause I have work on Monday. Does that, like...Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” Harry says slowly, mulling over her offer, thinking back to his schedule. He doesn’t think he has any commitments this weekend that would require him being home— none he can’t cancel easily, anyways. He’d told Mitch he’d go see him play again at the pub later today, but it’s the same set as last time, so he doesn’t think his best friend would mind if he missed it just this once. Niall was planning a barbecue at his place on Sunday, but the Irish bloke does one almost every other week so it’s nothing Harry can’t make up. Plus, what type of idiot would pass up two day’s worth of amazing sex? The more, the merrier.

Y/N watches the vampire’s expression carefully, trying to interpret whether her request was out of their boundaries. She doesn’t want to make him feel like she’s trying to tie him down or suffocate him, she just wants to spend a bit more time in his presence, rather than through a phone screen. Her tone comes out dismissive, with just the tiniest hint of panic. “It’s okay if you can’t, though. Like, if you have other plans and stuff, I totally get it. Or if you just don’t want to, that’s fine, too! I just thought it’d be a fun little thing we can do since we already talk so much on the phone and everything, so I guess I just kinda figured you wouldn’t mind—”

“I get it, Y/N.” Harry interrupts Y/N’s unhinged word vomit, voice amused and nonchalant. “I think I’d like that, yeah.”

Y/N blinks in giddy surprise. “Really?” 

“Well, don’t sound so shocked.” Harry laughs lightly, fingers toying with the pearls laying across his clavicle. “The sex is pretty fucking good and I’m more than happy to have it at my disposal.” 

“Right.” Y/N gives him a deadpan look, shaking her head at his bluntness, reaching forward to fiddle with the chain of his cross necklace for the sake of having something to distract her from smiling like a fool. “Great, then. I have some old boxers that I know will probably fit you and an unopened pack of toothbrushes under the sink, so I think you’re set.” 

Harry’s lips purse at the mention of the men’s underwear, brows creasing a tad. “You just casually have men’s boxers laying around?” 

“They were my ex’s and I kept them out of spite. But don’t tell anyone, I don’t wanna get locked up for robbery.” 

The tightness in his chest— which he hadn’t even realized had formed— melts away. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good, or else I’d have to kill you.” The girl states darkly, a theatrical seriousness to her appearance. 

“Oh no.” Harry wails sarcastically, knotting a fist into her oversized tee and pulling her closer, connecting their lips and grinning into the kiss. “I’m shaking in fear.” 

Y/N gives in without much of a fight, hands still clinging to his forearms, a smile of her own creeping across her cheeks. “Asshole.”

“The only thing I’m relatively afraid of is my dick falling off. You have the sexual drive of a rabbit.” 

“Oh, like you’re any better?” 

“I’m innocent in all this! You’re usually the one instigating. I’m just a mere pawn— a poor, unsuspecting nun led astray.”

“God, I can’t believe I let you fuck me.” 

///

The following weekend, Harry officially invites Y/N over to his house. 

It had been talked about in passing a while back, and he figures it's only fair considering all the time they’ve ever spent together has been solely at her place. Plus, he could tell she was curious to see what his living situation is like, which is valid. You can tell a lot about people through their home, and when you’re sleeping with someone on the regular, you want to learn as much about them as possible. It’s important to know who you’re getting into bed with. Literally. 

Harry’s proud of his condo. He keeps it clean, he keeps it organized, and he keeps it styled in a manner that combines his Victorian gothic roots with modern day aesthetics. The floorboards of the apartment are made of waxed light-wash wood, most of the expanse of his living room covered in a furry dark grey rug. The lightness of the ground is contrasted by the matte mahogany walls, of which the largest is covered in Harry’s collection of first edition artwork. He had picked out every single piece himself throughout the span of the last two centuries, ranging from modern digital technique canvases to nineteenth century oil paintings, all arranged in neat alternating rows from oldest to newest. He can’t help that he’s such a stickler; his mom had raised him so. 

Though his art wall is his pride and joy, the glass wall that overlooks the city skyline comes in at a close second. Harry loves the city, despite the fact that he was born in a seemingly irrelevant town whose only redeeming quality was the bustling public market. Urban regions are just full of so much life, excitement, and potential, which are all concepts he never really got to explore before he transitioned. Cities represent everything he wanted as a young man, when he thought he had prosperous years ahead of him and an entire life left to build; they represent diversity, unique experiences, and endless possibilities. When that was stripped from him, he began to bounce around different countries and cities all over the world, seeking a place that would fill the hole his dreams had left behind. Los Angeles fit that space like a puzzle piece. 

That glorified window just means more to him than anyone could possibly know. Sometimes at night, he’ll just stand by it with his arms relaxed across his chest, watching the city gleam and glitter as individuals from all different backgrounds go about their business, blissfully ignorant to the beautiful concept that they all contribute to something much bigger— a concept that only centuries of wisdom could reveal. When he’s not wracked with jealousy and spite, looking out that window and witnessing the world change and evolve is therapeutic, in a way. It allows Harry to live vicariously through others who get to have what he never did. 

Aside from his art collection and the glass wall, the chandeliers that hang from his cavernous ceiling are third on his list of treasured possessions. They’re special and no one on this earth owns anything like them; Harry made sure of that. They were created by a Swedish interior designer Harry commissioned about ten years ago, so they are custom-made in every aspect of the term. They took months to construct and finalize, which is hardly difficult to believe, given their grandeur. Each chandelier is made of two extensive layers of delicate golden chains, all arranged around a wire center, connected by light bulbs at each peak. It gives his home a chic, avant-garde atmosphere that mirrors his personality down to the last chain link. 

The rest of his flat is tailored to compliment these three major determining factors. The wood paneling all around his apartment is carved with intricate, loopy designs, his two rounded coffee tables are made of the same marble that resides across his kitchen counters, and his kitchen sits directly under the second story ledge with elongated fluorescent poles embedded into the room’s ceiling, eloquently highlighting the creme walls and polished detailings of all his appliances. His sectional couches are made of an off-brown leather, covered in large rectangular couch cushions with a checkered print embroidered across the pillow cases, and weighted fleece blankets litter some areas of the elegant sofas. A wide staircase leads up to the second floor, made of grey glass steps and metal railings. 

The top story of his condo is less Victorian era, more modern composition. The ground is dark maroon carpeting, and the ledge leads to one singular corridor that splits into two seperate rooms at either ends. One is the master bedroom, and the other is an accompanying bedroom which he uses for storage. His room isn’t anything extravagant, per se. It’s big, but his decor is minimalistic, covered in all different muted shades of blacks and greys, from the comforter on his king-sized bed to the tall dresser. A fifty inch flat-screen is mounted on the wall, but he hardly uses it since the one in his living room is larger; it’s only really there as an ornament. Starburst lights hang from his ceiling— smaller, downplayed versions of his chandeliers— and his walk-in closet stands parallel to the entrance of his bathroom. 

The humongous bathroom was meant for two people, pretty obvious in the double-sink set up, but he doesn’t dwell on it much. He isn’t one for dating, and he’s just happy to have that luxury because it comes in handy the morning after one night stands. He has a jacuzzi-like bathtub, lined with water jets and all, and a big walk-in shower with a large overhead panel instead of a regular showerhead. The whole room is made of dark marble and porcelain, and he couldn’t possibly adore it more. Some of his best experiences had happened in this room, explicit and otherwise. 

In the end, Harry has every right to be arrogantly proud of his apartment. It had taken him months to decorate, years to fill with fond memories, and an immortal lifetime to find. He loves it with every trace of his soul, even when others disagree. Namely, Niall, who had mocked his sophisticated relics and old-timey architecture from the first time he’d set foot past the threshold; “You went the dark gothic route? Really? Way to feed into the stereotype, Dracula.” 

But no matter what anyone says, this is who he is, and he couldn’t be happier. After decades of migrating and aimlessly searching the globe, he’d finally found a place he could call home, and absolutely no one could take that from him. Especially not some Irish moron who doesn’t even know the definition of “foyer.”

How Harry manages to afford his flat is a whole other intriguing tale.

It had come up in a pillow talk conversation with Y/N once, and he had told her the story he feeds to any human who asks. He’s a regional manager for an offshore company and it’s mainly a lot of online work. Handling duties through business emails, videochat meetings, job portals, and things of the such. It paints a valid image as to why he’s home all the time. He also claims to be the company’s lone contact stationed in California, so he handles all of the responsibilities that would normally be bestowed upon three or four people. This paints a valid explanation as to how his imaginary position would tether such a high pay grade, which justifies his luxurious living arrangement.

That story is part of the truth. Harry does indeed have ties with corporate businesses. That is, ties to their CEOs’ pockets. It’s surprisingly easy to get past secretaries and security dressed in a nice suit and thousand dollar leather shoes, especially with the help of compulsion and Harry’s golden charisma. Thanks to those tools, he has managed to convince some of the biggest leaders in corporate California to quietly deposit generous sums of money into his bank account once a month. And with his persuasive supernatural abilities, he convinces them to write it off as regularly scheduled charity donations in their minds. That’s how he makes a living for himself— by scamming the rich. Xander likes to take the piss and call him a sugar baby, but Harry sees himself as more of a modern day Robin Hood, instead. 

Mitch says his charade is unlawful, but considering how corrupt the business world already is, the vampire feels next to no guilt. The one percent have always taken advantage of those poorer than them— that was obvious even back in Harry’s time— and he doesn’t see anything wrong with taking advantage of them right back, now that he has the means to. How’s that saying go? “Fuck the bourgeoisie” and all that. 

Everything taken into consideration, Harry’s pretty excited to show Y/N his condo. Watching people’s faces break into awe the second he turns the lights on always gives him such a deep surge of satisfaction. It makes all the hassle worth it.  

The immortal is currently sitting in his vintage car, flicking through his Spotify playlist to find something to entertain him while he waits for Y/N to finish her shift. He had offered to pick her up, knowing that it’s what any courteous host would do, and she had appreciatively accepted, telling him she’d be out by eight P.M. It’s seven fifty-three now and Harry had arrived around seven fifty, taking the slot right in front of the cafe’s entrance so she can spot him as soon as she walks out. These ten minutes are the longest he’s ever had to endure, which says a lot considering he’s endured tons of patience-testing moments in his two hundred years.

Harry swipes his thumb down the glass screen of his phone, sampling songs left and right to see what will stick. After listening to the first few chords of an array of forties dance music, seventies rock and roll, and twenty-first century bubblegum pop, he settles for Rodeo by Lil Nas X. Harry has a very intricate taste in music— it’s one of the traits he’s most proud of— and Mitch often tells him he’s too snotty when it comes to his preferences. He’ll admit it freely that, yes, he can be a piece of work musically, but just because he thinks the industry peaked in the seventies doesn’t mean he hates modern music. He likes most of it, including rap, and Lil Nas X happens to be one of his favorites, much to everyone’s surprise. Most of the artist’s songs are eccentric not only lyrically but also instrumentally, to the point where it’s almost comical— who names a song Panini, of all things?— but the music is catchy and Harry can let loose to it easily. 

The vampire also happened to meet the musician, on one occasion. He ran into him at a club and after a few drinks and some banter, somehow ended up getting invited over to a party at the celebrity’s Malibu mansion. That night is a blur, definitely due to the copious amounts of alcohol and psychedelics, but Harry remembers they had fun and that the guy was worth a listen. In fact, he was the genius that came up with the theme for the rapper’s Rodeo music video. 

A light knocking on the passenger’s seat window brings him out of his memories. Y/N stands outside, hugging her arms loosely over her tummy, decked in her usual work uniform of a navy polo and black skinny jeans. When the two lock eye contact, she gives him a soft wave and a tired smile. Harry lifts two fingers in greeting, returning her polite gesture and swiftly lowering the window. He leans forward across the center console, his grin taking on a playful hue, voice carrying the same effect. 

“Uber for Y/N?” 

The girl snorts and rolls her eyes, but plays along, reaching forward and jiggling the handle of his black Cadillac symbolically. “That’s me, yes. Open up.” 

“Eh, eh, eh.” Harry tuts, wagging a finger in her direction and then making a motion that tells her to back away. “I’m gonna have to see some ID. It’s one of our new safe driver policies. Gotta make sure you are who you say you are, miss.” 

Y/N’s expression drops flatly, eyes half-lidded as he smiles up at her brightly, batting his eyelashes innocently. “Open the door before you end up sucking your own dick tonight.” 

Harry’s shit-eating face falls so fast, it causes her to burst into laughter. A soft click vibrates through the handle below her fingers. “I’ll waive the background check. Just this once.”  

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Y/N taunts, yanking the door open and ducking into the shotgun seat, gently tugging it closed behind her. 

Once the human is situated in her spot, she releases a lengthy sigh, sinking down against the cushions as she grabs her seat belt and clicks it into place. 

Harry puts his cell phone down into the cubby hole below the stereo set, setting the car in reverse and slinging an arm behind her headrest to get a better view as he backs out of the parking space. His gaze momentarily flickers to her slumped form as the car retreats slowly, tone curious. “Long day?”

Y/N glimpses over, giving him a quick once-over and taking in his olive green Nike jumper, ripped denim boyfriend jeans, and pastel yellow Vans. He looks so boyishly cute, which is ironic given the premise of tonight’s rendezvous. The shoes (which he had worn the night they’d met all those weeks ago) and the position he’s in (perched above her with his sharp jaw and neck flexing as he cranes his torso to look for oncoming traffic) flashes her back to the first time she had been in his car. They had been way less acquainted, she had been much less relaxed, much more nervous, but the encounter very much carried the same exact intentions. That recollection makes her lips quirk a bit. The pair had grown so comfortable with each other since then, that Friday evening feels like it happened decades ago. 

“Yeah.” Y/N murmurs softly, gladly indulging a deep inhale of the vanilla and tobacco scent she had become familiar with, allowing it to soothe her nerves and wash away the stress of a hard day. “I’m just happy it’s over and that the weekend’s finally started. Wanna forget all about it.” 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, love!” Harry plops back into his seat, shifting his car into drive and gifting her his famous brilliant smile, dimples winking to life as he taps his ringed fingers across his steering wheel humorously. “I’ve made you forget your name plenty of times before; I’m pretty sure I can erase one shitty work shift just fine.”

Y/N scoffs at his pompous claim, reaching up and prying the hair tie out of her locks, looping it over her wrist and shushing her stiff roots. She tucks strands behind her ears, the corners of her mouth twitching in endearment at the giddiness of his aura. “Just drive, Sherlock.” 

The mortal isn’t surprised to find that building in which the vampire lives is one of the tallest in the city, and that it’s basically smack in the center, as well. One look at Harry and anybody could immediately tell he thrives off being the center of attention, so of course his home is a direct reflection of that. Refined boy, refined personality, refined environment. It’s practically a law of science. 

Once Harry’s car is parked and the ignition rumbles to a smooth stop, Y/N unbuckles her seat belt and goes to unlock the passenger’s side door. Right as her hand is wrapping around the handle bar, the door swings open of its own accord and she just barely manages to stifle a blood-curdling scream full of shocked fear. When her eyes focus, Harry is standing there holding the door open for her, features painted with cocky amusement. 

“How did you—?” The girl whips around to look at the empty driver’s seat, eyebrows cinching in bewilderment as she turns back to face him. “How did you get around so fast?” 

Harry shrugs his shoulders offhandedly, reaching one bejeweled hand down to aid her out of the vehicle. “I did track when I was younger. Made me a fast walker.” 

Y/N hesitantly takes it, body language still slightly tense from the jump scare. With his help, she gradually climbs out, the door shutting behind her as she sweeps her sight around the parking garage in wonder. This is the first time Harry has ever invited her anywhere, let alone to where he spends most of his life. She doesn’t want to miss a thing. Even the simplest aspect can tell you a lot about a person. 

Y/N jerks a tad when she feels her friend’s cold fingers slipping down her palm, sifting between her own. She glances down at their intertwined hands for a second, a warm glow bursting through her chest. She’s always admired how his are so much bigger. 

Harry tugs her forward toward the elevator at the other end of the parking lot, bottom lip caught between his teeth in a sly smirk. “C’mon, Watson. Let me show you around.” 

Y/N stumbles after him, allowing the boy to guide her to where she needs to go as he weeds through cars effortlessly. She suddenly chimes up from behind, asking a random question to fill the leftover silence their footsteps spare. “That car next to yours had such a weird license plate. What the fuck does ‘craic’ mean?” 

Harry chuckles knowingly, perfectly aware of whose car she is referring to. “It’s this odd thing Irish people say. Utter rubbish, honestly.” 

A comfortable quietness fills the air of the elegant elevator as it shoots up towards the twenty-fourth floor of the skyscraper, the only other sound being the gentle lullaby of a nameless tune wafting through the speakers above their heads. Harry finds himself studying Y/N as she looks out at the city through the glass walls, the lights of the exterior buildings casting a beautiful buttery gleam across her relaxed characteristics, along with a radiant glint over the surface of her glossy eyes. Despite the slightly smeared mascara staining her waterline and the inherent frizziness her hair carries after being pulled into a tight ponytail all day, Harry finds that she looks nice. Pretty, even. 

The girl senses him staring, craning her head to return his gaze, the edges of her lips lilting upwards lightheartedly. He returns the gesture, peeling away to focus on something— anything— else. He deems the control panel a worthy replacement.

As the numbers on the dial drag by, Harry finds himself absentmindedly thumbing over Y/N’s knuckles. She doesn’t seem to notice or mind, so he continues doing it, massaging the crest of each bump and pressing down gently along the troughs. He enjoys the sensation of her silky warm skin heating his icy own, and he ponders whether she likes how cold his touch is, or if she hates it as much as he does. He expels that notion from his mind; he refuses to let such a stupid concept upset him. He just keeps caressing her hand, restraining his mind from ambling too far into its meaning. It’s just to pass the time. 

He keeps the movements going until their ride skates to a joltless halt with a sharp ding! and then he steps out, having to give his full attention to leading her down the long corridor to his flat. Y/N is so caught up in drinking up her surroundings, she almost bumps into the creature when he comes to an abrupt stop in front of the entrance of what she can only deduce is his home. Harry drops her hand, much to her disappointment, fishing into his back pocket for his keys. He patiently filters through his keychain, picking out the right one and working it into the lock, a soft click emitting from the mechanism. 

Harry pushes the door open with his palm, standing off to the side just outside the threshold and tilting his head towards it, posture bowing slightly. “Ladies first.” 

Y/N thanks him quietly, taking a cautious step forward into his hallway. She can’t help the way her heart skips a beat at his gentlemanly tendencies; she rarely meets anyone as respectful as Harry seems to be and she finds his old-timey attributes to be refreshing. Helping her out the car, taking her hand to guide her through the parking lot, rubbing at her knuckles innocently, holding the door open for her— it’s all such an archaic form of chivalry she wishes she’d see more often these days. She doesn’t know if it’s a British thing, if he had just been raised like that, or if he simply does it to get laid, but she’s thankful for it either way. 

With one last glance at her friend over her shoulder, she begins wandering down the dark narrow path unsurely. The sound of the door slinking shut behind her and Harry’s footsteps ease her. 

She stops once she senses the corridor open up into a larger space, which she guesses is his living room. A soft gasp escapes her at the sight before her. The whole area is washed in darkness, the only source of light stemming from the large glass pane that stretches from the floor of the apartment to its tall ceiling. Dozens of buildings and cars glimmer below, the breath-taking image of the lively city looking almost like a snapshot from a professional movie. It’s absolutely gorgeous and she feels like she could stare at it for eons. 

A chilly hand suddenly presses along the dip of her spine, ushering her forward an inch or two, Harry’s invisible voice and warm breath hitting the shell of her left ear. “S’cuse me, dove.”   

The boy reaches behind her for the light switch and the condo bursts into radiance with one simple flick of his wrist. 

“Oh...my God.”

Harry’s home is something straight out of a luxury catalogue. The light floorboards and the mahogany panels. The massive leather couches and hand-sewn cushions. The extravagant chandeliers and glass staircase. The marble kitchen and generously packed liquor shelves. The ginormous wall of priceless artwork, littered with pieces from all different eras of history. It feels like stepping into a decor wonderland.

“Not too bad, huh?” Harry pipes up playfully, anchoring her back into reality from the floaty stupor that had consumed her mind. 

“Not too—? Are you kidding?” Y/N sputters incredulously, whizzing her head to the side sharply. “You were keeping an entire Four Seasons royal suite from me?!”

Harry belts out a bundle of childish giggles, the edges of his eyes crinkling and the tip of his button nose twitching. “I never thought of it much, to be honest. I’d grown to like your place.” 

“Right. Because a creaky mattress and a kitchen the size of a broom closet is so much more satisfying than chandeliers and a fucking glass wall.”

The vampire glimpses around his flat indicatively. “Okay, I see your point.”

“Exactly.” 

Y/N drifts forward, running the tips of her fingers across the backrest of the aged leather sofa and along the corners of the throw pillow, doing a slow circle at the middle of his home, taking everything in a second time around to make sure it isn’t a mirage. “Fuck, this is incredible. Is your boss looking for any more regional managers, by any chance?”

Harry follows after her, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his boyfriend jeans, chewing along the inside of his cheek to suppress a proud smile— a result of her explosive reaction. “I’m afraid my position is the one and only, sorry.”

Y/N droops her shoulders in exaggerated contempt, presenting a shitty English accent to tease him. “Bollocks.”

It garners the designated feedback, her tummy somersaulting at Harry’s exorbitant laughter. 

The boy comes to stand before her, cocking his head to the side questioningly towards his kitchen. “Can I offer you a drink?”

Y/N glimpses over at his bar area, eyes dancing over his extensive array of fancy bottles. “Oh, please do.”

Despite only having known Y/N for a few weeks, Harry has gotten quite acquainted with her tastes, even outside of sexual matters. She doesn't like the taste of alcohol, but she likes its effects. And he likes them, too, if he’s being honest. Her blood always begins to smell more appetizing after just a few sips and the way her cheeks heat up so easily when she’s buzzed always makes his breathing trip. 

He works his extensive skills, pulling from his liquor cabinet and mixing flavored liquids and syrups until he comes up with something that he thinks the girl will enjoy. It’s fruity, with hints of peach, lime, and strawberry, but also warm and fulfilling, with a rich whiskey and a few dashes of bitters. He plunks in a couple of ice cubes and mixes it together with a bar spoon, tapping it against the rim with finality and swiping it over his tongue in a quick taste test. He’s pretty happy with his concoction. 

Harry glances up to where Y/N is leaning against the armrest of his couch, her legs crossed before her as she stares at one of the abstract paintings mounted on his wall. It’s an original, as are the rest of them, which he had purchased some odd seventy years ago from a barely known artist whose talent had gone to waste in the world. It’s a deconstructed sunflower, with the color palette inverted and the strokes of the brush uneven and jagged. Odd and complicated, but beautiful, nonetheless. Its complexity is what makes it significant. 

The vampire slowly wanders over from his kitchen, holding her drink in one hand and a cloth napkin in the other. He takes the spot beside her along the armrest, speaking wistfully as if recalling a fond memory. “It’s a flower.”

Y/N nods slowly in recognition, peeling her gaze away with the corners of her lips jilting. “Mmhm, a sunflower.”

Harry’s brows jump in shock. Barely anyone ever guesses the identity correctly. He’s found that as time passes and humanity becomes more reliant on technology rather than cognizant knowledge, society in general has reduced to a more pea-brained state than ever. As a result, the amount of people who can interpret and understand the meaning behind complex artwork has greatly diminished, unfortunately, so he’s pleasantly surprised to find that one of the few who still possesses that talent happens to be the girl he’s shagging. “Wow, that’s a first. It’s so unusual, no one ever really gets it.”

“I guess I just have an affinity for the unusual.” His guest quips, giving him a jesting shrug of her eyebrows and a suggestive grin. 

You have no idea.

“You underestimated me, Holmes.” 

“That I did. My sincerest apologies.” Harry returns her joking simper, proceeding to then dip an index finger inside the stout glass in his grasp, bringing it up before her face. “Taste.”

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N parts her lips and allows him to coax the wet digit in, the tangy flavor of the mixture making her taste buds tingle. She encloses her mouth around his finger, lulling her tongue along it slowly with a mischievous glint shining across her irises. 

Harry’s prominent jaw clenches as he watches the scene unfold, breath bated and a moan threatening to betray him. She truly wastes no time.

He gradually pulls his finger from her tongue, struggling to clear his throat, missing its texture already. “How is it? More syrup? More biters?”

Y/N gazes up at him drunkenly, though it’s definitely not from the liquor. Her lips quirk cheekily as a result of how visibly frazzled she’d gotten him. “It’s perfect. Better than anything I’ve had at a club, that’s for sure.” 

“Yeah?” Harry taps his opal ring against the bottom of the lowball glass, trying to reign in his previous composure. “Think I could be a bartender?” 

“You don’t hit me as the type of person who has the patience for it.” The girl remarks wittily, slinking her head to the side and biting back a giggle when Harry makes a face at her.

“You make a valid point, I suppose.” The vampire responds with an airy sigh, nodding in surrender. “The stupid blabbing from drunk morons and impending fear of being vomited on would be too much for me. I wouldn’t last a day.” 

“You wouldn’t last a single night, let alone a whole day.”

“Alright, pipe down!” Harry deadpans, bumping her shoulder with his vengefully. “You’re bruising my ego.”

“It’s humongous,” Y/N snorts, shoving him in return, “it can take a few hits.”

The pair sit there in silence for a suspended moment, just taking in the expanse of the art before them. Harry then turns his torso towards her once more, bringing the drink in his grip up to her mouth. “Here, have a proper sip. Put my all into it.” 

Y/N obliges, looking up at him with her signature doe-like air of trusting innocence, allowing him to tip the hem of the cup against her mouth. The cool beverage filters through her taste buds and down her throat, the sweet and sour mixture leaving an enjoyable tingle in its wake. A few streams of the liquid bead out of the corners of her lips and Harry impulsively gathers them with the side of his index finger, the napkin in his other hand completely forgotten. 

As he goes to pull back in order to clean up, Y/N leans forward and traps his digit between her lips like before. This time, there’s a more insistent sultry hint sparkling around her pupils. 

“Christ...” Harry pants, watching Y/N work her way down his forefinger with a silent groan hinging on his teeth. 

He doesn’t deny himself from indulging the dirty action this time around. Her mouth is as soft and warm as ever, sending chills racing down his spine despite the sweater hugging his body. His mind slips for a second, reminiscing in all the other ways he’s felt the inside of her mouth before, a faint red tinge splattering across his cheekbones. 

Y/N draws his finger out, kissing messily across its length and over the pad, looking up at him through tension-heavied lashes. She doesn't speak a word, but her intentions are clear in the electricity between them.

He can’t hold back any longer, his next comment coming out as a pained growl. “God, you’re such a filthy little thing.”  

She hums softly in the back of her throat at his explicit compliment, suckling at the center of her bottom lip needily. “I like being your filthy little thing.”

Harry swallows thickly in order to keep himself somewhat tame, fangs suddenly pricking his tongue in warning.

The mortal scoots closer to him, sifting her fingers between his around the drink and bringing it upwards, downing the last couple of inches in one go. She draws the cup from his grasp, reaching over to set it down carefully on the coffee table before turning back and snuggling deeper into his heaving chest. 

Harry scoffs in amusement, but he can feel a certain charring scratching at the back of his throat. “Drinks like that are meant to be savored, darling. You’re not supposed to just pound them.” 

Y/N stretches her neck upwards, taking his earlobe between her teeth, lips wet and cold from the alcohol. His lashes flutter when her warm breath hits his skin, contradicting the sensations from before. 

“Why don’t you let me worry about how I drink, and you can worry about a different kind of pounding.”

And that’s all it takes, really. That’s all it takes for Harry to completely drop any self-control he has left. 

The creature jars his face towards her, large hand shooting upwards to grip her jaw firmly, holding her in place as he crashes their mouths together. It’s all tongue and clacking teeth, desperate whines and stuttered gasps. Y/N’s hands fumble for something to tether to while Harry takes it upon himself to grasp at her opposite hip with his free hand, yanking her onto his lap. She buries her fists in the cotton fabric of his jumper, balancing her knees on either sides of his parted thighs. The boy’s fingers coast from her jaw down to her throat, tightening ever so slightly. The action is minimal, but it reveals that flare of dominance Y/N has become addicted to. 

“Do you want it here?” Harry rasps against her eager tongue, smirking into the kiss when he feels her start to rock along the bulge that is beginning to tent his denim pants. “Do you want me to bend you over the couch and fuck you, baby? With the chandelier making your skin glow? Where we can put on a show for the whole city to see?”

It’s a tempting offer and his words obviously have some form of impact, seen in the way Y/N’s grinding takes on a hungrier, deeper pace against his clothed cock. 

“I want…” Y/N finds it difficult to voice her desires, the responsible party being the manner in which Harry glues cracked mewls onto the roof of her mouth. “I want it in your bed.” 

She doesn’t know why, but she just wants him to take her some place where the moment they share is intimate, unseen by the prying eyes of others. She wants to christen his bed exactly how he had done hers; she craves that strange connection, for some reason. Y/N isn’t naive, she knows she’s not the only person Harry has had in his home and in his sheets. But she wants that experience, nonetheless, even if it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She knows she’s not his only, but at least she’s one. 

Harry slowly breaks their kiss, brushing the tip of his nose across her own in a small comforting gesture. He blinks at her groggily, the copper specks in his eyes glitzing under the golden hue of the lighting. When he speaks, its soft and low, almost as if he doesn’t want to risk another soul overhearing. “Okay. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” 

Y/N almost doesn’t get anything she wants, given that she nearly kills herself on the trek up the stairs, courtesy of her weakened knees and wobbly ankles. Harry just barely manages to save her, but he finds the occurrence too hilarious to spare her the embarrassment. 

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny!” She exclaims indignantly as he helps her up the last few glass steps, clinging to him like a scared puppy, her hands still shaking with adrenaline. “I could have died!” 

Her shrieking only makes him laugh harder and he nearly keels over, palm clutching his stomach as if to keep it from popping. “I’m sorry, I really am, but it’s just— your face when you— and how you tripped sideways— I—”

Y/N shoves him hard towards the corridor where his bedroom lies, but it’s hard to maintain an angry demeanor when the young man’s giggles sound like bells and when he looks so cute with his curls flopping across his forehead. “Dickhead.” 

They’re almost at his bedroom door when Harry grabs onto her wrist, tugging her roughly so that she lurches forward into his chest. He plants a wet kiss onto the bridge of her nose, expression entertained. “Stop being such a bad sport. It was pretty funny.”

“Yeah, okay.” She huffs begrudgingly, glancing down impatiently at his plump lips as he walks backwards down the hallway with her in tow. “You can invalidate my rage once you have a near death experience yourself.”

The irony of it all. 

Harry kicks the door open, ghosting his mouth over Y/N’s and watching her sight do a quick sweep around the area. “Welcome to my lair.” 

The human likes his aesthetic. The room has different hues of the same color, so it all ties together nicely, and the hanging lights look like miniature versions of the two large ones downstairs. The bed is huge, which is a relief because for once, they won’t have to actively worry about accidentally rolling off the edge mid-fuck. “It’s nice. Very chic.” 

“Thanks.” Harry reaches up and cups either side of her neck with his palms, dragging his damp lips over her chin and down the center of her jugular, smiling against her skin when he feels her shiver. “It doesn't have a bookshelf wall like yours, but I make due.”

“Yeah.” Y/N wisps out weakly, leaning her head back as he speckles his mouth across that sensitive point on her throat he discovered ages ago. “I bet.”

She feels Harry’s touch travel down her torso, cold fingers suddenly smearing across her love handles beneath her work shirt. His grip tightens at the hem with the intention of pulling the polo off, breath hot as it washes over her collarbones. “Wanna find out just how good I make it work?”

Y/N’s arms instinctively raise on command, her reply shaky and fragile. “Yes, please.” 

Harry makes it work. He makes it work so fucking well. He doesn’t need crazy positions or any vibrating toys to make her feel good; he just knows her so thoroughly by now that he’s able to tend to every single one of her needs like it’s his sole purpose. The sex is missionary, with her splayed out across her back upon his mound of feathered pillows, her thighs clamped over his hips as he slams into her at a harsh, curt pace. Her calves are tied around the backs of his thighs, her nails are carving memories into the broad expanse of his shoulders, they’re both panting curse words and encouragement into each other’s mouths, and he’s cradling her to his chest as if he wants to absorb her heartbeat right through her ribs. If only obtaining one were that easy. 

Y/N allows her head to fall back against the cushions, drawing away from the prolonged kiss only because she needs air to continue. Harry’s lips busy themselves elsewhere, running down the valley of her chest and toying with one of her pebbled nipples. Y/N’s back gives a sharp arch the second he brushes across the sensitive nub and the taunting coo he releases goes straight to her core. 

“Liked that, darling? Like it when I kiss you there?”

The girl’s lashes have fallen shut, her eyes lulling around in their sockets as he maintains a steady rhythm between her thighs, ramming into her with so much force, the headboard is knocking into the wall. It’s loud and intense enough that Harry has to fit one of his palms between the railings, bracing the weight of the bed in order to prevent a hole from forming. 

Y/N’s voice fills the dense atmosphere, so shattered and raw, she can hardly understand herself. “It feels so— so good, H.” 

“I love it when you call me that. Sounds so pretty coming from your lips.” The vampire’s tongue flicks over her nipple a handful of times, dark veins momentarily webbing over the whites of his eyes at the cracked whimper she lets loose. “And of course it feels good. I always make you feel good, don’t I? Always make my girl cum so—fucking—hard.” 

Y/N’s trembling fingers card into the curls along the nape of Harry’s neck as he thrusts to his words, twisting them around her knuckles and swimming in the throaty groan he pours over the clammy skin of her breasts. Her whisper sounds distant and dreamy. “Please...Please don’t stop.”

Harry gazes up at her through heavy lashes, lapping at her chest more fervently, accent thick and deep. “I won’t, baby. Not until I have you dripping all over my sheets.”

After a few more minutes of fractured moans bouncing around the panels of the room and the noise of wet skin slapping together, something catches Y/N’s bleary eyes. She wills past the blissful fog in her mind, focusing on the intriguing object hanging from one of the railings of Harry’s bedpost, swaying back and forth wildly due to his strong tempo. 

“Are those...Are those handcuffs?” 

Harry’s attention jumps to where hers is pinned, his powerful stride coming to a gradual stop. He’s heaving and shuddering above her, ringlets matted to his jaw and across his temples, cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of cherry red. His Adam’s Apple bobs once and he gives a short nod. “Y-Yeah. I’ve had them for a while...”

The hope dripping from his voice is practically palpable and Y/N interprets it easily. She glances down at him as he takes quivering inhales against her chest, his eyes bleeding lust. Her mumble is so quiet and soft, he wonders how it’s possible for her to make some of the preposterously loud sounds he’s used to hearing whenever he’s buried this deep. “Use them on me. Please?”

Harry bends to her request without hesitation. He locks her wrists into the restraints, sponging a kiss onto each before giving them one hard tug to check for security. He then regains his rough slams, but with more fervor than before. 

The monster sits back onto his heels, groping her waist roughly and working her against his thighs, watching welts form on her flesh along the pads of his fingers. Y/N unconsciously begins circling her hips to match his speed and the fractured groan that rips out of him makes her walls tighten. He looks incredible looming in front of her, head toppled back between his shoulder blades, bouncing to his every ram. His throat flexes with the weight, jaw taut and inked pectorals glistening with sweat under the dim lights dangling from his ceiling. “That’s it, pet, just like that. Love the way you ride it. You’re so fucking tight and warm and...and just— Christ, just fuck me.”

She wishes she could frame this moment in time and drag it out forever.  

Harry swings his head forward again, blinking the blurriness from his vision to take in the image before him. Y/N just looks so fucking gorgeous like that, tied down at his beck and call, her chest bouncing pertly as her fingers bunch around the chain link, thighs clinging to his waist as she chews her bottom lip raw in an attempt to control her noises. 

The vampire ducks down, connecting their mouths in a sloppy kiss that cajoles her into spilling all the moans she had been withholding. He feels them trickle down his lungs and diffuse into his bones, flames lapping across his insides as their foreheads bump and noses smudge, ragged breaths intermingling. “Let it out for me, hm? Wanna know how I’m making you feel, don’t care who hears.”

As if that isn’t enough, there’s an instance where Harry’s animalistic senses suddenly enhance and he comes to the realization that the metal cuffs have made a tiny laceration along her skin. 

A thin trail of blood travels down her suspended arm, but she doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in the pleasure Harry is pounding into the pit of her stomach. So he simply leans upwards and licks the sweet droplet clean, feeling heat spark across every fiber of his being. He laps up the entire stream and then presses a tender kiss to her palm for good measure, grunting out a gentle, “There’s a good girl.” when she whines at the affectionate gesture. 

The release Harry is getting from between Y/N’s legs mixes with the ecstasy her blood brings, and it shoves him over the edge in a manner he hasn’t experienced since that first time they slept together all those weeks ago. Since the first time he tasted what lies in her veins, while also simultaneously getting to taste the indescribable relief her body so readily brings him.

After all is said and done that night, something peculiar happens. After they both milk their orgasms for everything it’s worth, and after Y/N gives into exhaustion in his arms with her wrists bruised and a content watery smile on her face, and after he gets a heftier drink from her neck and heals the two little puncture wounds with his own blood...The most bizarre, unexpected event occurs. 

Harry falls asleep soundly for the first time in months, and all he dreams about is how Y/N tasted. 

///

Y/N wakes up the next morning to her body covered in Harry’s Nike jumper, to an empty spot beside her in the messy duvet, to a familiar tune tinging her ears from a distance, and to a satisfying ache between her thighs. 

As soon as she cracks the bedroom door open, the smell of pancakes wafts in through the chilled morning air. Specifically, lemon and blueberry pancakes. Her grandmother’s lemon and blueberry pancakes.

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine the second she sets a toe along the cold glass panels of Harry’s staircase. She takes a deep breath, pulling the extra length of the sweater’s sleeves over her fists and tugging the hem of the article downwards as if she could convince it to cover more than just half her thighs. She carefully works her way down the steps, flinching at the iciness that travels up her legs with every motion. When she finally thunks down emptily onto the light-wash floorboards, her body has grown accustomed to the temperature. As she pads across the furry rug in Harry’s living room, she finds herself wondering why everything connected to him is always so unusually cold— colder than any normal person could withstand. His touch, his lips, the tip of his nose, his forehead, his chest, even his thighs; everything is always freezing, and she doesn’t understand how he can bear it. It’s such an odd affinity to have. 

The human gradually wanders into the vampire’s kitchen, peeking inside the room from behind one of the archway’s walls. What she sees throws her for a loop. 

Harry is cooking breakfast, as she expected from the sweet scent she’d awoken to, but he’s doing it in a manner she never really expected from him. 

Music stems from a portable speaker he has situated at the center of the marble kitchen island, blaring loud enough to fill the entire giant home with high notes, guitar chords, and acapella riffs. The young man is dancing across his kitchen as he cooks, clad in nothing but a set of black Calvin Klein briefs and a pair of fuzzy magenta socks. Y/N rakes down his body, admiring the crimson and purple love bites she had left on his chest and the raspberry red scratches zig-zagging across his back, the marks flexing with the movements of his muscles. They’re strangely faint, for some reason. Practically barely there. 

She chalks it up to the fact that maybe she hadn’t bruised him as much as she’d thought. 

Y/N forces herself to keep her mind from straying onto anymore explicit topics; it’s probably not even ten A.M. yet. She needs to get herself under control.

Grooving while in the kitchen isn’t necessarily weird (she’s guilty of it herself), but Harry’s dancing techniques very much are. The only accurate depiction of it is that for a boy in his twenties, he dances like an old geezer in his eighties. His moves are choppy and old-schooled, almost like what you’d expect to see in a nineteen fifties disco hall, and watching him ebb and flow across the tiled ground to choreography similar to that of Dirty Dancing and Footloose... It would send anybody into a fit of laughter. Especially since Harry is so tall and lanky, so how he manages to move in such a way is beyond her understanding. 

Aside from that, his choice of music is baffling, as well. Not only because she recognizes the soundtrack, but because she would have never expected someone like him— with his cocky behavior and overly-confident caliber— to be into these types of songs at all. She always pegged him for the seventies rock and roll type. 

“You like Hamilton?” 

Harry’s actions creak to a halt and he whips around towards where the disturbance had stemmed, spatula clutched in one hand and a marble plate stacked with pancakes in the other. His face breaks into a bright smile, voice slathered with dramatic friendliness. “Well, look who finally got up! I was starting to think you were dead, Sleeping Beauty.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him mockingly, walking over to the kitchen counter and propping herself onto her elbows, chin in hand as she watches him set down the platter of food before her. She tips forward onto her toes, taking a deep inhale of the homey, sugary smell, letting it wash over her in flashes of childhood memories. “Are these like the ones I make?”

“Lemon and blueberry, yeah.” Harry bobs his head casually, turning around to place his metal spatula down into the sink, as well as to retrieve a glass bottle of maple syrup from one of his cupboards. “They’re pretty close, I think. I’ve never seen you use a recipe or measuring cups or anything when you make them, so I kinda eyeballed it to the best of my ability. Hope I did your nan justice.”

He pours a decently-sized glop of syrup over the mountain of treats and Y/N watches excitedly as it trickles down all the layers. He then pushes back from the table, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through, continuing to whistle along to the tune of Satisfied as he bops the cabinet closed with his hip and sets down an extra pair of forks and knives beside the plate. 

Harry cuts a neat triangle out of the pancake at the top, pointing at her with his fork as he shrugs his brows nonchalantly. “And to answer your question from before: yes, I do like Hamilton.”

“Hm. Interesting.” Y/N murmurs, going cross-eyed as Harry offers her the forkful of food in his possession, poking at her mouth playfully and getting maple syrup all over her lips. She opens obediently, allowing him to feed her the piece. “You don’t really seem like the type of guy— oh, wow, these are actually really good!”

Harry bites into his lower lip with his two front teeth, a proud smile dimpling his cheeks as the light draft from the air vent ruffles a couple of his sex-mussed ringlets across his forehead. “Yeah? You mean it?”

The mortal nods her head vigorously as she finishes chewing and swallowing, wiping away some of the leftover syrup from her top lip with her middle finger and sucking it clean. “Yeah! You hit it spot on.”

“Aces. I should be on The Great British Bake Off.” Harry makes a small, celebratory fist bump next to his hip and the childish gesture makes Y/N snort softly. 

“Like I was saying, you don’t really strike me as the type of guy who would be into musicals.” The girl comments, watching her friend cut another triangle out of the first pancake and pop it into his own mouth. 

The vampire chews thoughtfully for a second, lifting one shoulder offhandedly and swallowing fully before talking. “I’m really not, to be honest. But this specific musical is pretty good. The songs are catchy.”

He nudges the other pair of utensils across the counter for emphasis, silently inviting her to dig into the dish along with him. She accepts, slicing down the other side of the stack as he leans forward onto his elbows, mimicking her stance. He gives her a curious glance. “What about you? Do you like musicals?” 

Y/N shrugs, poking a few chunks of food onto her fork. “Not really, but I had a major Hamilton phase back in college. That’s why I recognized it.” 

Harry hums in understanding, picking a blueberry off and chewing it slowly, a sly smirk beginning to tweak the corners of his mouth. “So were you, like, a nerd back then?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say a nerd, but I had decent grades and was pretty quiet.”

He swallows down audibly, blinking impassively. “That’s literally the definition of a nerd.” 

Y/N returns his flat expression. “Fuck off.”

Harry throws his palms up in peaceful surrender, but he still has that shit-eating grin present. “Alright, fine, fine...It’s okay if you were, though. You were probably one of those cute ones, y’know? With the clunky glasses and innocent goody-goody face.” 

“Shut up.”

“Oh, and with one of those short little plaid skirts?” He releases a pained groan, clutching his chest and closing his eyes for a second. She has no doubt he’s sketching some type of graphic image of her in his mind. “God, I bet you looked so good. Do you still have it? Can you wear it for me?”

“I said shut up!” Y/N reaches forward and stabs at his tummy lightly with her fork, ignoring the warmth crawling up her neck and across her cheeks. “Fucking perv.”

Harry smacks her utensil away with his own, giggling lightly as she tries to prick him again, continuing to fight her off. “I’m just asking a question! For science!” 

Y/N twists her fork around his, trying to outmaneuver him into dropping it. “How could my fashion sense in college possibly contribute to science in any way?” 

The vampire easily catches onto her play, slipping himself out of her grasp and trying to trap her makeshift sword down against the tabletop. He purses his lips into a simper, glimpsing up at her through his lashes and quirking his brows cheekily. “Biologically, of course. It contributes to my solo reproductive activities.”

“You are vile.” 

“Really? ‘Cause you seemed pretty happy to help with said activities last night.” 

Y/N drops her fork onto the brim of the platter, reaching up to massage at her temples and keep herself from swatting Harry’s eyeballs out of their sockets. “I’m finished.” 

“Yeah,” the jade of his irises glimmers coyly as he sets down his utensil beside hers in a ceasefire, “you definitely finished.”

Harry chuckles boyishly as Y/N drags her palms down her face, trying to hide away how flustered he’s getting her. She decides to change the subject, not caring to steer the conversation smoothly at all, but rather jumping to another topic right away. “So does this mean you have all the lyrics memorized? Since you like them so much?” 

“I do, yeah.” Harry taps his fingers against the marble counter to the beat of the song currently playing. “Do you?” 

“I was obsessed, so of course I do.” Y/N reasons, her own digits following in tune with the immortal’s. “I think Non-Stop was probably my favorite to sing. It made for a good shower concert.”

“Well, it’s settled then.” Harry quips happily, reaching for his phone and tapping across the screen. “We’re duetting this. Right now. C’mon, Burr.”

Y/N’s motions stop, shyness creeping in from the back of her brain. “Oh, I don’t know, Harry. I never really—”

Her refusal is interrupted by the beginning of the arrangement mentioned, the notes blasting through the speaker as Harry purposefully turns up the volume to drown her out. He taps at his ear symbolically, mouthing, “Sorry, I can't hear you!” and he doesn’t even attempt to ward off the evil grin creeping across his face. 

“Harry, I’m serious—” 

But it’s already too late. Harry juts his hand out in front of him, pointing at his companion with a theatrical edge as he begins to serenade, picking up the slack of her part. 

“After the war I went back to New York. A-After the war I went back to New York. I finished up my studies and I practiced law. I practiced law, Burr worked next door!”

He looks at her expectantly, urging her to jump into the next half as her assigned role. Y/N muscles down her hesitation and recites the lines timidly with her brows creased in hesitation, but at least she’s participating. “Even though we started at the very same time, Alexander Hamilton began to climb. How to account for his rise to the top?”

Harry joins her in the next stanza, grabbing her hand midair in encouragement, trying to shake her out of her rut. “Man, the man is non-stop!”

Y/N is surprised at how well they sound harmonizing together, and she can feel her discomfort slowly begin to melt. She watches as Harry freely boasts his solo with absolutely no remorse, making grand gestures as he slides down the side of the counter, his movements dragging her along. 

“Gentlemen of the jury, I'm curious, bear with me. Are you aware that we're making history?” The boy taps at his chin to symbolize that he’s thinking, acting out the story the lyrics construct. “This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation, the liberty behind deliberation.”

He points at Y/N once again and she does the supporting vocals, gradually beginning to gain more confidence. “Non-stop!”

“I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, with my assistant counsel—”

Harry doesn’t even have to cue Y/N this time around; she picks up her half immediately, falling into line with him flawlessly as if they’ve done this a million times before. “Co-counsel. Hamilton, sit down. Our client Levi Weeks is innocent, call your first witness.”

Harry quickly rounds the corner of the kitchen island, giving her body a grand spin as he draws closer, coming to stand right before her. She gives him a fake exasperated look to match the attitude her character depicts, shaking her head in disapproval. “That's all you had to say.”

“Okay…” The creature yanks Y/N forward into his bare chest, leaning down and flirting his lips right over hers tauntingly, eyes half-lidded in amusement. “One more thing—”

“Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?” The girl rolls her eyes dramatically, shoving past Harry’s shoulder and she finds it humorous how these lines fit so well, almost as if they were actually directed at him, calling him out on the arrogance he always seems to dote. “Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude may be your doom.”

Harry swivels on his heel, following her as she scurries outside the kitchen entrance, running into the living room. 

“Why do you write like you're running out of time?” Y/N grabs onto one of the couch cushions, pretending to scribble over it with a fake pen. “Write day and night, like you're running out of time? Everyday you fight, like you're running out of time.”

Harry swipes at her from across the couch, trying to grasp onto the jumper she’s wearing. “Keep on fighting in the meantime.”

Y/N ducks out of the path of his grabbing hand, chucking the pillow forward and it bonks him square in the face. She sticks her tongue out at him as Harry scowls dully, climbing onto his sofa and scuttling towards her on his hand and knees.

She jumps just out of reach, diving across the other end of the furniture. The vampire throws his weight to try and tackle her to the sofa, but she just barely escapes. He ends up toppling over the backrest due to his over-abundant momentum. 

“Non-stop!” Y/N waves her middle up at him triumphantly as he pushes himself up off the ground, giving her a challenging look as he takes off after her once again. 

The pair continue to sing back and forth, with Harry chasing Y/N around the living room and kitchen as he belts out his part of the song, Y/N always somehow managing to slip from his grasp as soon as her turn hits. They’re a mess of giggles, silly faces, and boisterous actions as they reenact the play and neither can recall a time they had ever had more fun. There’s never been an instance when they felt so comfortable with another soul that they are willing to run around half-naked, screaming lyrics at each other in their underwear, not caring who sees or overhears. It just feels so second-nature.

A section of the song comes up where a woman is singing and Harry immediately takes up the part, placing his hand on his bare hip and standing in the most feminine fashion he can possibly muster, fanning at his face. “I am sailing off to London, I am accompanied by someone who always pays.” 

The exaggeration makes Y/N bend over laughing and her distraction allows Harry to nab her. He pulls her into his embrace by her forearms, cackling through the following stanza as she wriggles and squirms to try and get free. “I have found a wealthy husband who will keep me in comfort for all my days.” 

Y/N finally gives up on trying to thrash herself free, going limp against his chest and glimpsing up at him with begrudged annoyance, but a fond smile is unmistakably buckling her cheeks. Harry leans down, singing right in her face just to flaunt his victory, their noses brushing. “He is not a lot of fun, but…”

And then, there’s a shift in the ambiance between them. 

Harry gazes down at her as she giggles up at him from his arms, full of so much genuine warmth and excitement, she could power the entire city if she wanted. Her shoulders are heaving slightly as a result of all the running, there’s still faint traces of black mascara smeared under her waterline and down her cheeks from the previous evening’s exertions, she has some acne scarring littering her cheekbones that look fairly recent, and her hair looks like it could nest a family of at least ten birds. But despite these imperfections, Harry finds himself feeling oddly endeared by it all. These flaws are all things he’s gotten used to and has grown to treasure in Y/N. They make her who she is. They make her witty, and they make her clever. They make her fun, as well as trusting. They make her likeable, and energetic, and kind. They make her a good friend and a generous lover. They make her... her. Harry gets the feeling that if she didn’t have all of these traits— if even one was missing— this little arrangement they have going wouldn’t have flourished the way it did. 

Yeah, maybe he would have slept with her once or twice more just to scratch an itch, but he most likely would have let it fizzle to an end after the fact. Her personality paired with these small details— albeit, not all entirely attractive— that make up her existence play a key role in the dynamic they share. And he wouldn’t trade them for anything else— wouldn't trade Y/N for anyone else. Not anytime soon. 

A warm surge travels through his chest, filling his veins like kerosine, heating him from the heels of his socked feet to the tips of his ice cold fingers. An unorthodox swelling sensation twists inside his ribs, right where his heart used to beat, and he finds himself reciting the next line in a soft voice packed with more emotion than he’s shown or felt in the last two centuries.

“There’s no one who can match you, for turn of phrase…”

Y/N seems oblivious to all of the unsettling experiences he’s undergoing, her amused expression not changing in the slightest. Harry allows the rest of the song lyrics to pass by, the lump in his throat too heavy to fight. Instead, he just keeps staring down at Y/N with brows frowning in confusion, his breathing coming out bated and shaky, and that knot in his chest continuing to tighten until it becomes painful. He gets the sudden urge to kiss her— to feel her lips press to his and feel her give into him the way she always does. The way she has for the last four weeks. He doesn’t want it to be sloppy or desperate or sexual; he wants it to be intimate, soft, and caring. He wants it to be special. Something they share. Something only they share.

Then, that moment passes. That flicker of weakness that had leaked through vanishes and Harry feels like he can breathe properly again.

He breaks their locked eyes, releasing Y/N from his hold and taking a swift step back, coughing awkwardly to try and rid the tickling sensation in the back of his throat. He scratches at the nape of his neck nervously, fiddling with his baby curls and attempting to piece himself back together after that unexpected and unwelcome intrusion of his innermost feelings. Though, he doesn’t know if that spectacle even files under the category of emotions; from what he remembers, they aren’t supposed to tangibly attack you in such a manner. It felt more like a violation— like someone had gone in and started poking and prodding at his subconscious with a metal skewer. 

“Harry…?” Y/N inches closer to him, concern prevalent in her voice and across her features as she stretches her hand out caringly. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.” 

“I-I’m—” His voice comes out higher than usual and quivering, so he coughs once again to get it under control, taking another step back. He's scared that if she touches him, that horrible burning sensation will come back. “I’m fine. Just...Just forgot the lyrics.” 

“Oh, okay…” The girl doesn’t sound convinced with the answer, but she lets the subject falter anyways, her hand dropping back down beside her thigh. “Just checking.” 

“Yeah, I got that. Uh, thanks. But I’m all good now.” He holds up a clenched first and juts out his pinky, wiggling it for significance. “Promise”

Y/N scoffs gently at his playful deed. “Alright, then.” 

Harry eyes her attentively as she returns to her previous spot in front of the plate of pancakes, retrieving her fork and starting to pick at them like before, as if nothing had happened. As if Harry hadn’t just almost had a cardiac arrest, despite the fact that the organ responsible had crumbled to dust ages ago.

“Are you gonna eat anymore?” Y/N signals down at the stack of pastries before her questioningly. “Because if you don’t get some now, I’ll eat them all myself. Don’t think I won’t. They’re better than the ones I make and—”

The vampire suddenly feels like bile is rising up his throat and his words spew out before he can think to stop them, though he’s not so sure he would. 

“Do you want to stay over the rest of the weekend?”

[kpop---scenarios]

Same Time (1)

Pairing: Changbin x Reader / Minho x Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers sort of, Friends with benefits

Warnings: Eventual Angst and Smut

Word Count: 2.5k

Authors Note: This is now a mini series! It will consist of 7 or 8 parts! Hope you look forward to it! If you would like to be tagged, let me know!

Taglist: @binnieboyswhore @f4ncyvelvet @skittlez-area512 @biaswreckingfics @buttvi

You walk through the empty dorm, heading to a specific room, one you had frequented quite a few times before. 

You walk into Changbin's room, seeing him sitting on his bed, playing in his phone. 

"Finally." He groans, standing up and walking towards you. 

"No one can know about this." You gasp as Changbin's lips attach to your neck, gently sucking, allowing a small moan to escape from your lips.  He removes his mouth from you, looking you in the eyes with a knowing look. 

"Why do you keep mentioning that?" He huffs. "I haven't told anyone anything." He finishes, moving his face back towards your neck, peppering kisses up and down.

"I heard you with Bangchan." You breathe heavily. "Talking about the girl you're fucking, the one with the tight pussy." You gasp. "They're going to want to know who it is, or meet her. So stop." 

He doesn't reply to you, instead his hands reach down for the hem of your shirt, tugging at it before beginning to lift it, exposing your stomach and then your breasts. He moves his body away from yours, and you raise your arms letting him fully take your shirt off and throwing it onto the floor of his room. 

"I'm serious, Changbin. The guys can't know." You say as he looks down at your breasts, pushed up with the help of a lace bra. 

"My favorite color." Changbin laughs, reaching behind you with one hand and undoing the clasp of your bra like a goddammit magician. You stare at him in disbelief as he smirks back, pulling the lace cloth from your body and dropping it down to the floor to join your shirt. "I have always loved your tits." He exclaims, cupping both your breasts with both his hands before opening his mouth and wrapping it around your nipple. Your hands run through his hair as he sucks slowly, flicking the tip with his tongue. 

"Changbin?" You both hear from the otherside of the door. "Are you in there?" 

He releases your nipple, his head shooting straight up as the two of you begin to panic. You scramble to hook your bra up, grabbing your shirt before running to the bathroom, quietly closing the door just before his door opens. 

Changbin sits on his bed with a pillow sitting on his crotch, hiding his very large erection. 

You press your ear to the door of the bathroom, doing your best to hear their conversation. 

"What?" Changbin asks, clearing his throat. 

Minho walks into the room, looking around, before looking at Changbin with confusion plastered over his face. 

"Is Ayn here? I thought I heard her giggle." He asks, a small blush spreading across his face.  

"Yeah, she's in the bathroom." Changbin says, pointing to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, continuing to listen. "What were you guys doing in here?" He asks. 

"Just talking about shit. Did you need something?" Changbin asks, getting annoyed. 

"Yeah, I have something to ask Ayn." He answers. Changbin tenses up at is reply, feeling like he knew what he wanted to ask. He knew Minho had feeling for you, even before you and he started fucking around, but hey, it wasn't his fault Minho didn't get to you first. 

You turned on the tap, quickly walking your hands and flushing the toilet before opening the door to make your appearance. 

"Oh, hey Minho." You smile, as you walk out of the bathroom, drying your hands on a towel you had found laying on the bathroom floor. 

"Hey you." Minho grins widely. "A few of us were going for lunch, if you wanted to join?" He asks. 

"I'd love to." You smile, walking towards him. 

"Hey!" Changbin yells. "What about me?" 

"Uh yeah, if you wanna come you can." Minho says, smiling at you while he talks to Changbin. 

You had yet to confirm it, but you had a bit of a gut feeling that Minho had a thing for you and honestly if he ever asked you out, you'd probably say yes. Changbin had made a sort of agreement from the first time the two of you hooked up that whatever the two of you were, you would just be two friends fucking and nothing more. 

*Flashback; 6 months ago* 

You were walking through the dorm, looking for anyone, but it had seemed like everyone was out. You checked almost all the bedrooms, and with your hand on the door knob, you turned and opened Changbin's door. Your eyes immediately fell to the bed, seeing Changbin laying there with his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it fast. The sounds of his grunts and moans echoing through the room. 

He looks up and sees you, panic mode setting in. "Ayn.. uh.. I.. " he stutters, trying to cover himself. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" You say, squeezing your eyes shut. You had heard the door close behind you as you walked into the room. You turn your body facing where you thought the door was, reaching your hand out, trying to find the door knob that had just been let go but you were struggling. Even with your eyes closed, you pictured his cock, making your pussy throb, it had been months since you had been fucked, and seeing how thick and long his dick was, it instantly soaked your panties.

You gave up on finding the door knob and just began to back out of his room, whispering apologies. 

"Wait." Changbin yells. 

You stop. 

"Would you want to.. fuck around?" He asks. 

Your eyes open. You look down, seeing him pump his cock. 

"As friends.. with benefits." He says. "I know it's been a while for you too.." 

"Two friends helping each other get off.." you whisper. 

"Yeah, a friend helping another friend." Changbin smiles. "No feelings involved. We're just friends." He says again. 

"Yeah." You say forcing a smile. "Got it. Just friends." You knew this was a bad idea. 

You knew you shouldn't do if, considering you had a very sizeable crush on him, but you'd never be able to tell him. You knew this would likely end up ruining you, and your friendship. 

"So what do you say?" He asks, a smirk appearing on his handsome face. 

Say no. Ayn don't. 

"Absolutely." You answer. 

Having him this way is better than not having him at all. 

"So Ayn, anywhere in particular you feel like for lunch?" Minho asks you, holding the door open for you. 

"It doesn't matter to me." You smile. "Wherever you guys wanna go is fine with me." You finish, motioning to the rest of the guys who were waiting in the hallway. 

"Pizza!" Hyunjin yells, raising his fist in the air. The rest of the men begin moving down the hallway, Minho waiting for you, and you were waiting for Changbin. 

"Lets go or we're leaving you." You yell into the living room. 

"Yeah yeah, stop rushing me or I won't eat your pu.." he pauses seeing Minho still standing there. "Pizza.. uh.. When you make homemade pizza next time I won't eat it." He coughs, trying to hide his slight embarrassment. 

"When did you make homemade pizza?" Minho asks as you began walking downg the hallway after glaring at Changbin. 

"I um, I'm not sure what he's talking about. You know him, always making things up." You tell him. 

Minho just nods his head, but you can tell he's trying to figure something out. "What kind of pizza are you going to get?" You ask Minho, trying to distracy him. It seems to work, he perks up, smiling at you. "Wanna split one?" He suggests. 

"Sure." You say, smiling back at him. 

While you were too busy looking at Minho, you missed the scoff and eye roll from Changbin who trailed behind you. 

**

A few days later, you sat on the couch at the dorm, laughing at a show with Bangchan while the rest of the members muddled around the dorm doing whatever they were going to do. 

"Hey, Ayn?" Minho calls you from behind the couch. You turn your head to look back at the nervous looking man. 

"What's up?" You ask, resting your chin on your hand on the back of the couch. 

"Could I talk to you for a minute?" He asks. "Over here?" He says, nodding his head towards the kitchen. 

You get off the couch, heading towards the kitchen with Minho following behind you, closing the small door separating the kitchen and the living room. 

"You okay?" You ask the man who stands there, his hands fidgeting in front of him.

"I'm going to ask you something, and I need to lose it before I lose my nerve." He says in in semi panicked voice. 

"Okay, go a head." You laugh. You can feel the butterflies floating around in your stomach as you wait for the question he needs to ask you. You already have a feeling you know what it was going to be. 

"Would you.." he pauses. Just as he's about to finish his sentence, the kitchen door opens revealing Changbin, who walks in, heading for the fridge. "Go on a date with me?" He says. 

Changbin freezes, his hand on the fridge door as he anticipates your answer. 

"I would love too." You smile. You can see the change in Minho's demeanour immediately as he processes the fact that you said yes. 

"Awesome.. wow. Okay, cool." He excitedly says. "Tonight? Like an hour?" He asks. 

"An hour works great." You nod. 

"Movie?" He asks. 

"Perfect." You smile, watching Minho exit the kitchen with a giant smile on his face.  

"A movie with Minho?" Changbin asks, turning around to face you. 

"Yeah, so what?" You say, shrugging your shoulders. 

"It's a date." He reminds you. 

"I know that." You laugh. "I heard when he said the word date." 

"Interesting." He mumbles, his hand gripping his bottle tightly. "You're really going to go? He asks. 

"Why wouldn't I?" 

"Cause you and I.." he trails off. 

"Are just friends, remember?" You say, patting his chest before walking out of the kitchen, getting more excited about your date. 

 ** 

Later that night you are standing outside the movie theater with Minho after the movie had finished. 

"That was a good movie." Minho says.  

"Oh yeah, really good." You agree but truthfully you hadn't paid much attention to the movie. You had been far too focused on on fact that the two of you were sitting so close to eachother, and your heart was beating so fast you thought he would most definitely be able to hear it from where he was. 

Your hands touched a few times as you both reached for popcorn, making the butterflies in your stomach flutters faster. You both nervously laughed, pulling your hands away. But it didn't take long for him to do the move, the one where he pretends to stretch, and places his arm on your shoulder, pulling you in close. You stayed like that for for rest of the movie, not to mention the fact that he held your hand when you were walking out of the theater. 

Minho was someone you could definitely see yourself with, but unfortunately you still had one problem. After he dropped you off at your apartment complex, he watched you go up the stairs until you were out of sight. You smiled at the ground as you walked towards your apartment. You looked up to see a figure leaning against your door with his arms crossed. 

You roll your eyes as you approach Changbin, nudging him over with your hip so you can put your key in your lock. 

"How was your date?" He asks, his face close to yours, a smile on his face. 

"It was really nice." You say, opening your door. You stand in your doorway on the inside while Changbin stands in the door way in the hallway, his arms on either side of the frame, leaning in close to you. 

"Will you see him again?" He asks. 

"Probably, yes." You laugh, walking into your apartment. 

"What about me? What are you going to do with me?" He asks, walking into your house, closing the door behind him. 

"What about you? Why do I have to do anything with you? Me and Minho aren't anything." You say. "As of now." 

You look at Changbin, a grin spreading across your face. "Why do you care, it's not like you're jealous, or are you?" You laugh. You grab your phone, reading the text from Minhk asking if you made it into your apartment okay. 

Changbin doesn't say anything, but stalks towards you, sliding his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in until your lips meet, making you forget all about your date with Minho. 

With your lips attached, he moves you both into the living room, sliding his tongue into your mouth, pressing himself into you. You can feel his cock pushing into your through his pants. You just wanted him to fuck you now. 

"Fuck me." You breathe, breaking the kiss, your phone still in your hand. Changbin bends you over the back of your couch, hiking up your skirt to expose your ass. He drags your panties down your legs, pooling them around your ankles as he forces your legs open. He moves his head under you, licking a your pussy with the flat of his tongue. He spreads your lips, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue as he begins to slurp up your juices. He brings his hand up, pushing two fingers inside of you, making you gasp. Your head is laid on the back of the couch, your hand still gripping your phone as Changbin continues to eat your pussy and finger you. 

Your phone rings loudly, startling you. "It's him." You moan as Changbin sucks on your clit. He removes himself from you to say two words. 

"Answer it." Before going back to latch his lips to your clit. 

"Hello?" You breathe, your legs shaking as Changbin picks up the pace of his fingers. 

"Hey you." Minho replies. "You okay?" 

"I'm good." You say. "What's up?" 

"Have you heard from Changbin?" He asks. "We have rehearsal but no one can find him." He says. 

"Oh, Changbin is supposed to be at rehearsal?" You partially moan. "No he's not here but I'm sure he's on his way." You say, squeezing your eyes closed as you cum all over Changbin's face, letting out a small moan over the phone. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later." You quickly say, hanging up the phone.

Changbin stands up, licking as much of his face as he can before he walks towards the door. 

"Until next time." He winks, walking out the door, leaving you there panting and feeling slightly guilty about doing that to Minho. Although, that night you went to bed dreaming about one person, and one person only.

[miss-smutty]

A/N - I've literally been gone for months 😱😭 I've been so busy with my business I lost my writing mojo again. I'm sorry @swaggysposts you've waited so long for your request but here it is, I hope you like it.

Request- "How about Thor x reader wedding night....Having a wedding in the Avengers Facility with the Avengers.....And Tony letting them use his Malibu home for their wedding night....

The reader is a virgin and nervous about the whole sex thing.....Thor feels her nervousness.... Thor eases her nervousness by playing and dancing around in the Malibu Mansion and they do tequila body shots between each other and they have skinny dipping in the pool And they both get turned on and they have a intimate first time by Thor's sweet gesture 😍😍

Word count- 4,651 (sorry it's so long 🙊)

Warnings- Swearing, smut, unprotected sex

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap

Posted: 29th April 2021

18+ only!!

Blushing Bride

"3… 2… 1!" Everyone in the room shouted gleefully.  You reached down and threw your beautiful sunflower bouquet back into the crowd. Turning around to watch where it lands, smiling from ear to ear as you watch your girlfriends scramble to catch the falling flowers.

Nat clambers over people unapologetically, elbowing your cousin in the face as she reaches into the air and catches the bouquet with one hand. There's cheers as she arrogantly side-eyes the other girls shamelessly, you notice as she catches Bucky's eye from across the room, confirming the suspicions you've had for a while. Hopefully you'll get chance to question her about that later on.

You scan the room until your eyes lay on the person you were looking for - your handsome husband.

Thor can't take his eyes off of you, his beautiful bride, you blush under his stare and laugh when you realise the cliche of now being his beautiful blushing bride.

You've never seen him in a suit before and he looks completely ravishing, his broad frame filling out the navy blue, fitted suit, impeccably. He's talking to Tony and Pepper and by the way they all keep looking over at you, you realise you're the subject of their conversation.

"So, you're finally Queen Odinson" Tony greets you as you make your way over to join them, hitching up the long train of your dress. You feel like a queen in your exquisite wedding gown, the way it drapes on your curves perfectly. It's a little difficult to walk in especially with how clumsy you are but it makes you feel amazing.

"Wow, it feels so strange when you say that." You smile widely, reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss Thor's cheek.

"You've always been my Queen." His grin is equally as wide as yours as he wraps his arm around you, gazing down at you proudly.

"Don't mind us" Tony says sarcastically, rolling his eyes and then laughing when Pepper playfully hits his arm.

"Oh don't worry, we won't. I've been waiting for this day since… Forever" 

"I know, Thor what took you so long?" Tony jokes.

"I have wanted to make Y/N my Queen since the first moment I set eyes on her" Thor says seriously, Tony's rhetorical joke going straight over his head. 

"Yeah, we get it Point Break. Now I have a wedding gift for you both." 

"Ohh yes, you're going to love it" Pepper adds excitedly, clapping her hands together enthusiastically.

"We want to invite you to spend your honeymoon in our Malibu mansion, so what d'ya think?" Tony asks.

"Oh my god! No way! We'd love to." You exclaim, looking at Thor for his approval and squeeling excitedly when he nods in agreement.

"Good, now you better go mingle. I can see your mom shooting me daggers for hogging you both for too long" he smiled warmly. You reach up to kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around pepper tightly.

"Thank you so much you two, you're the best" you say excitedly.

"Yes we are and don't forget it" Tony laughs.

Thor takes your hand in his and leads you to the dancefloor to join your friends. As he wraps his arms around your waist he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"You look radiant, my love. I can't wait until we're alone" He says sincerely.

You feel a tightness in your throat at his words and quickly try to swallow it away, gulping nervously. You were a virgin and the thought of Thor having literally hundreds of years more experience than you, terrifies the life out of you. 

"Your brother looks like he's having a good time" you say sarcastically, changing the subject strategically when you spot Loki over Thor's shoulder. Of course he didn't look happy at all, stood in the corner on his own with a face like thunder.

Thor spins you around so he can see for himself, a smile tickling the corner of his mouth when he realises you were joking.

"You know Loki, he can't stand anybody else being happy. Especially me. This must be torture for him" He laughs, the smile on his face crinkling the corners of his eyes as he gazes down at you. Your own cheeks aching from the smile that hasn't left your face for the whole day.

"Are you sad that the rest of your family and friends aren't here?" You ask, resting your head on his chest and feeling his heart beating.

"Of course not, my love. We will see them soon." he smooths his hand down the back of your head.

Thor had promised to give you your perfect wedding, everything you'd ever dreamed of and then later you would go to Asgard and have a traditional Asgardian ceremony too. The thought of it made you extremely nervous, you had no idea what to expect but imagined you would be surrounded by beautiful Gods and Goddesses and the idea of it made your stomach sink.

You danced the night away with your friends and Thor until your feet could no longer hold you up and you collapsed, exhausted into Thor's arms.

"I think it's time to get you home, my love" Thor whispers into your ear.

"I don't want it to end yet" you whine, clasping your hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn. The tiredness suddenly washing over you all at once.

"Don't worry, the night has only just begun" Thor said his eyes glistening with excitement. Butterflies flutter in your stomach with anticipation, nerves and excitement mixing together until you didn't quite know which was the most dominant feeling. 

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

You can't contain your excitement as you finally see  Tony's mansion set upon the cliffside, over-looking Malibu beach. The futuristic looking building with the glass walls is absolutely breathtaking, definitely everything you imagined Tony's house to be.

As you step inside the house the first thing you notice is how open and clean everything is. The glass wall runs the entire length of the room, it's like you could practically walk out into the sea.

"Welcome to your honeymoon home, Mr and Mrs Odinson. I am J.A.R.V.I.S and I am here to assist you with anything you may need during your stay." J.A.R.V.I.S says through the integrated speakers. 

"Oh my god!" You squeel.

"Who said that?" Thor asks looking around the room, confused. The look on his face is comedic but you stop yourself from laughing to save Thor from embarrassment.

"It's J.A.R.V.I.S" You answer shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.

"But who is Jarvis? Are we not alone?" Thor asks, eyes wide, still scanning the room for an unseen person.

You giggle at Thors innocence. "I think it's one of Tony's intelligent system thingies, am I right J.A.R.V.I.S?" You laugh when Thor looks at you like you're mad.

"You are right Mrs Odinson, I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System but you may call me J.A.R.V.I.S. Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"Not right now, thank you J.A.R.V.I.S" 

"I don't like the thought of somebody watching us, especially on our wedding night" Thor gets that glint in his eyes again.

"He's a computer babe, I think we're safe." You chuckle light heartedly, gliding along the smooth marble floor to stand in front of the enormous window.

"Wow! I bet that view is beautiful in the daylight." You say, changing the subject. 

"Not even half as beautiful as you" Thor says as he comes up behind you and pushes your hair to one side so he can press his lips softly to your neck. Your hairs stand on end as he sends shivers through your entire body. You feel electrically charged by his touch, your body tingling with energy.

Thor feels your body go ridgid against him, he can sense your nervousness and does his best to calm you.

"Are you ok, my love?" He whispers softly as he strokes the goosebumps that have appeared on your arms.

You turn around to face him, placing your hands on his chest to reassure him but avoiding those piercing blue eyes.

"I'm ok." You lie.

"You are not ok, please tell me your worries" he lifts your face to look at him and you cave when you see that gentle, pressing look on his face.

"Fine." You sigh "This is my first time, but you… You've been with hundreds. No, probably thousands of women. How could I not be worried?"

"They will never compare to you" He smiles genuinely. You're not going to lie, the thought of him with even one other woman makes you feel slightly sick.

"You don't know that." Looking away again, unable to concentrate when you look into his deep blue eyes.

You didn't want to believe that he was being sincere, how could he be? Thousands of women, there's absolutely no way you could even slightly compare. Thinking about it was making you even more nervous, you had experience with other sexual things but you were still a virgin. Growing up with religious parents that had drilled it into you that you mustn't have sex until you were married. You knew it was possibly all bullshit, just another thing made up to control women but still there's always a chance it wasn't and you didn't want to take the risk of spending your afterlife in hell. So you'd been a good little girl and restrained yourself through the absolute torment of college and the multiple boyfriend's who had never been able to last longer than a couple of months before they dumped you or cheated on you. Then you met Thor, he was different to anyone you'd ever met and not just the fact he was an actual god - but he was a gentleman.

"I do because I have never loved anyone the way I love you." You look up at him slowly, smiling shyly when you catch his eye. The things he said definitely helped ease your mind a little.

"Just don't worry about it, ok my love? We'll take things slow." He adds, kissing your forehead.

"Ok… Now can we try and find some alcohol to loosen up a little?" 

"Do you not think you've had enough?" He asks, cocking his head to the side to examine your level of drunkenness.

"I think my nerves have sobered me up." You pout playfully, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Well then what are you waiting for? Let's find this alcohol." He grabs your hand and hurries through the room, dragging you along, laughing behind him. You have to run to keep up to him, his long legs making him much faster than you. 

"Oh my god, Thor. You almost pulled my arm out." You laugh stopping to catch your breath, the house so big that it took a lot longer than expected to make it to the kitchen.

You spied a hamper that had been left on the kitchen counter, behind Thor. A bottle of champagne with two flutes, some bottles of spirits and a huge crate of Thors favourite ale - Peppers idea you guessed.

"Wait! Stop!" Thors tone makes you freeze on the spot, the bottle of champagne ready to be popped in one hand.

"What's wrong?" You say, concerned. Is there a spider? Oh my god. You shake your hair and pat your body in a frantic manner. "Thor what is it?" he was just stood there looking amused.

"Nothing. I just realised this is the first time that I've had you to myself all day. I need a kiss" he moves over to you with his lips pursed in an exaggerated way.

"You idiot, I thought there was a spider" you say, giggling when he grabs hold of you and wraps his arms tightly around your waist. He rubs his rough beard against your cheek playfully, making you giggle and squirm as his bristles tickle your skin. His hands are clasped around your stomach, lifting your feet from the ground, while you try and fail to get away from him and his tickling.

"Thor, stop. I can't breath." You laugh breathlessly. 

Lifting you up effortlessly, he sits you down on the kitchen counter and nestle's himself in-between your legs. Looking at him closely, you realise just how beautiful he is and how lucky you are that he's your husband. 

"What are you thinking?" Thor asks, making you realise you were day dreaming and lost in a trance when Thor spoke.

"I'm not telling you." You tease, closing your mouth tightly.

"You do know now we're married, you have to tell me everything" 

"Everything?" You probe.

"Yes, absolutely everything."

"Fine, I was thinking about how lucky I am to be married to you." You roll your eyes at how soppy you sound, you're not usually one for romantic gestures and Thor knows that. You find it hard to take a compliment and even harder to give one. 

Thor on the other hand, found it completely natural to take and give compliments. He did however have a lifetime to perfect it, so had a slight advantage. 

"I am the lucky one" Looking in your eyes confidently as he speaks, there was definitely no denying the way he felt about you "Now stop rolling your eyes and give me a kiss." 

Thor pulls your face towards him, his lips parting when they connect with yours. The alpha in him taking control of the kiss. You follow his lead heartily, your lips moving together in perfect synchronisation. 

The way you kiss easing your mind a little, your bodies moved together fluently like they were made for each other. The excitement began to rise in you, everything was so effortless when you were together. You know now you were silly to feel worried, that as long as you let your body do the work and don't over-think things, your love for each other will lead the way. Your bodies spoke to each other like old friends, it was just your damn mind that was the problem. Which is why you planned on shutting it up with alcohol, lots of alcohol. 

"Can we go see the pool?" You break away from the kiss too quickly, leaving Thor with his lips still pursed and eyes still closed. The adrenaline was taking over and there was no time to waste.

'Anything for you, my love." He makes his way towards the stairs that lead to the garden.

"Wait, let's take this." You say holding up a bottle of tequila, limes and a couple of shot glasses, then rummaging around the cupboards to find the salt.

"Tony certainly has good taste in liquor, how did he know tequila is my favourite? Or did you have something to do with this?" You ask Thor, the mischievous grin on his face already answering your question.

"Nothing to do with me" he lies, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Mr Odinson?" You say sultrily, smiling when you see excitement flashing in his eyes.

"Of course not Mrs Odinson, now come on let's drink." He takes your hand and leads you to the stairs, you have no idea which way to go but Thor's instincts seem to know the way. The house was so big you thought it would be pretty easy to get lost in it, you wonder how many rooms there are? How many bathrooms? You couldn't wait to explore tomorrow but tonight was all about you and your husband.

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

As you turn the corner, the enormous infinity pool comes into view. From where you're standing the pool appears to stretch out into the ocean, you can't wait to see the view of the ocean in the daylight. The pool is illuminated with underwater spotlights and dimly lit, warm solar lights surround the edge of it. 

"Oh my god, this is amazing!" You stand with your mouth agape looking around you while Thor comes up behind you and places his hands on your hips.

"Shall we try it out?" He asks, whispering against your neck and making you shudder in the warm breeze.

"Yes! But first…" You dangle the bottle of tequila in front of Thor.

Thor pulls a couple of sun loungers out, lifting them into the air effortlessly, like he was moving a feather and not two big, heavy, wooden sun loungers. You swoon at the sight of him, his biceps bulging against the tight fabric of his suit. The thought of running your hands all over his naked body making you feel hot and bothered. How could this beautiful man be your husband?

You realised you still had your wedding dress on when you tried to bend to sit down on the low sun lounger. The tight fabric of your dress restraining against you, threatening to tear.

"Thor, will you unzip the back of my dress please? I need to take it off" you ask nonchalantly, stretching your arms behind you and trying to reach the zip. 

"What? Here?" He asks, his mouth agape as he watches you trying to undress.

"Yes, there's no one around for miles and I can't move in this thing" 

You can hear him gulp from where you were sitting, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows back air. You take note of the way he tugs on the collar of his shirt, loosening it slightly. Were you making him nervous? You had to admit, it made you feel good to watch your big, tough man with years of experience become nervous at your words.

"And as hot as you do look in that suit, I think it's time to take it off." 

"What do you mean?" Thor looks shocked at your forwardness. The suprise on his face almost comical.

"Have you ever done a body shot?" You ask while he unzips your dress, teasing him and enjoying it more than you should.

"What is that?" He asks, his eyes drawn to you while you step out of your heavy dress, folding it carefully and putting it on the back of the sun lounger.

"Take off your clothes and I'll show you." You smile, standing confidently in the lingerie you bought especially for this moment - a lacy, ivory all in one.

The way his eyes lingered on your body made you feel like a goddess and that hungry look in his eyes made you want to rip his clothes off.

Thor took off his jacket hastily and paused while unbuttoning his shirt, looking up at you.

"I thought you were a virgin?" He looks hurt, like you'd been lying about being a virgin for all this time.

"I said I was a virgin, you know I have experience with other things." You lift your eyebrows at him and roll your eyes.

"You just don't seem very nervous anymore?" 

"Only because I'm comfortable with you Thor, I know I can be myself with you and there's no one better for me to have my first time with." You watch Thor's tension ease, the tightness of his arms relaxing. "Now lay back." You demand, unscrewing the lid on the bottle of tequila.

Thor lays back on the lounger with his arms resting behind his head, holding his neck up so he could watch what you were doing fascinatingly. The sight of his bare chest made you feel weak, the chiselled abs sent tingles through your body. You tried to push your thoughts aside while you concentrated on pouring a shot of tequila, your hands visably shaking and spilling some of the liquid on the floor. 

You place the cut lime into Thor's mouth, the juicy part facing out and pause to giggle at how silly he looks.

"Just hold it there, ok?" Thor nods his head, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

Grabbing the salt from the side of you, you carefully pour a trial down his torso, stopping when you get to the hem of his boxers but secretly wishing you could go lower. Your pussy clenches as Thor's abs tense, restraining against the tickling of the grains of salt against his bare stomach.

Your eyes remain fixed on his as you lean over Thor to lick the trail of salt from his torso, making your way down to the hem of his boxers slowly. You quickly pour the burning liquid down your throat before snaking your way up his body, making sure to grind yourself against him as you take the lime from his mouth, he groans and pushes himself into you desperately.

"Mmm…  Well that was..  arousing. Is it my turn now?" He's already getting up from the lounger, hastily waiting for you to take his place and lay down.

Thor straddles over you, barely waiting for you to lay back and get comfy before he's pouring the salt along the swell of your breasts. You're thinking about his improvisation when you're distracted by the sultry smile and glint in his eyes as he licks his full lips with the tip of his tongue. 

You don't have time to think before he's leaning over and licking the salt from your cleavage, he downs the shot and takes the lime from your mouth. You stare wide eyed at the almost other worldly speed of your husband - why the rush?

Thor sucks on the flesh of the fruit before throwing the skin to the side and leaning in to give you a sticky, citrusy kiss. Leaving your mouth parted and wanting more when he stands up, yanks down his boxers and jumps straight into the pool. The whole thing passed by in a blur and it took you a moment for your brain to catch up and process what was happening.

You smile down at your husband in the water as he comes up to the surface and smooths his wet hair back from his face. He looks like a damn model, the water dripping from his face.

"Come on, the waters lovely." He urged.

All of a sudden you feel shy again, you know you're not going to be able to resist each other for much longer. Understanding now why Thor was so hasty, his adrenaline was in overdrive and come to think of it, so was yours. 

Your hands begin to shake and you don't know if it's from the cool breeze or the nerves. You're feeling a little reserved now, all your big girl talk fading now the moment is almost here. You pour yourself a couple more shots and down them both one after the other, hardly whincing as the liquor burns your throat.

Finally you bite the bullet and shimmy out of your lingerie, you try to do it sexily but the tight fabric clings to your skin making you clumsy. Still, when you look up shyly through your lashes, Thor is completely oblivious to your fumbling. The way his eyes have lit up when he watched you undress fills you with pride. One last shot for good luck before you jump into the pool to join him.

The cold water sends shocks through you, making you rise to the surface gasping for air. How the hell did Thor make it look so sexy? When you look like a spluttering fish out of water.

"Let me warm you up." He glides over to you, smoothly, moving through the water like it was his natural domain. Maybe you were trying too hard? Thinking about things too deeply, you need to calm down.

The feel of his strong arms around you instantly calm you, you wrap your legs tightly around his stomach. You can feel his cock growing against you and by the way he's biting his lip you know he's struggling to restrain himself.

Thor can feel the heat of your pussy so close to his aching cock, he wants to dive inside but knows he needs to go at your pace. His feet touch the bottom of the pool and he moves over to the edge, pushing your back gently against it.

You can feel his heart racing almost as fast as yours. He kisses you deeply, pushing himself against you. Your fingers brush against his cock making him moan in your ear. The size of him makes you even more nervous.

He kisses down your neck , your bodies grinding together. This is it.

"I want you now, Thor." You say breathlessly, panting his name while his lips press to the sensitive spot on your collar bone.

"Here?" He pulls away slightly to look at you, waiting for your approval.

"Yes" you moan, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against your opening eagerly. Your pussy ready to suck him in.

He eases in slowly. The size stretching your walls in an agonisingly pleasurable way. A breathless squeel escapes your lips making Thor stop suddenly.

"Are you ok? I'm not hurting you am I?" He stops, searching your face for an answer.

"Thor it feels amazing." You whine deeply, looking into his eyes with strong, burning love. It hurt slightly as his cock stretched you open - going where no man had been before. You were so glad you'd waited and that Thor was your first but you wish you hadn't waited this long to make love to Thor.

All that time wasted, when you could have been doing this all along.This is a whole new level of love, your bodies finally coming together as one. You feel emotional with the euphoric sensations of built up tensions. 

Thor is so gentle with you, stopping to make sure your ok as he gently thrusts himself into you. The slow pace making the pleasure even more intense as his length repeatedly hits your spot. You feel your face screwing uncontrollably as a unknown sensation rises through you, making your head feel dizzy. This new feeling feels amazing but it's something you've never experienced before. Is this normal? 

You try to push your thoughts away, reminding yourself to stay in the moment.

"Are you comfortable, do you want to go inside?" Thor asks, obviously seeing the turmoil going on inside your head.

"Please. Don't stop" You urge, hoping to feel that gripping sensation once more, desperate to explore it more.

Thor bites his lip as he carries on with his slow love making, trying more than ever to keep up the slow pace even though it is torturous for him. The way your tight walls cling to his length with ferocity, making it harder for him to contain himself.

"You feel so good" he says through gritted teeth, concentrating on the way your pussy grips onto his cock.

You're taking his cock so well, the pain has disappeared and all you feel is ecstasy. You're feeling confident that you can take more, you can let him take you freely.

"Thor, fuck me faster." You say shyly. You can see his eyes light up at your words, he was waiting so patiently for you to take the lead. Your eyes roll back as he gives you his full length, groaning into you as he grips onto your ass with both hands. The sensation takes over you once more and you ride it out, giving in to it as he continues thrusting into you faster.

"Fuck." He moans, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you as you release your orgasm, screaming out his name while his cock pumps into you.

You're both left panting, while you rest your head on his shoulder. You feel like giggling, is that normal? You're overcome with emotions all at once. This was without a doubt the most amazing feeling you have ever felt, you don't want it to stop. Lucky for you, your husband has the stamina of a god.

[booksarelife-stuff]

Dancin’ is a Dangerous Thing

James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (jily)

The moments in which James Potter and Lily Evans danced with each other. Pure fluff. 

Word Count: 2,556

Read on AO3

The first time Lily Evans danced with James Potter, it was a complete accident. 

It was fifth year, Gryffindors had not only won the Quidditch Cup, but the House Cup as well. The music is loud and blaring some wizarding band that Lily thinks is trying way too hard to be Queen. 

She’s tipsy, but not drunk. Her fingertips are tingling and she knows her face is flushed. She just finished her second firewhiskey of the night before Mary pulled her to the part of the common room where most of the other Gryffindors were dancing. 

She’s passed from partner to partner. She remembers Sirius at one point, watching him trying to teach Peter how to swing his hips. She laughed hysterically before Marlene pulled her back in.

She was sweaty when she spun right into James’s chest, almost knocking him over. He grabbed on to her to save himself from falling, his hands on her back, Lily’s face in his chest. 

“Oof,” Lily said. 

“A bit drunk there, Evans?” James asked as Lily pulled away.  She was so close he could hear him over the music. 

“Nope,” she said, stumbling. He snorted just as a new song started. This time it was Killer Queen. 

“I love this song!” she yelled. Lily would deny that she was the one to grab James’s hand and pull him in to dance, but all she could remember was the warmth of his hand in hers and how she laughed when he twirled her. 

The second time started with a question. 

“Do wizards even have their own dances?” Mary asked, scrunching her nose. All the sixth year Gryffindor’s had snagged a table in the common room and were quietly doing their work until Sirius asked a question about Muggle traditions for his Muggle studies class. 

“Nah,” James said from beside Peter. His feet were kicked up on the table as he leaned back in his chair. Alice had been doodling on his shoes, which Lily was sure James knew, but didn’t tell her to stop. 

“I mean, we have the same,” Sirius said with a shrug, “Just use them in different places.”

“These pureblood boys had to take dancing lessons,” Marlene said, smugly.  Sirius scoffed. 

“Yeah, so we could dance with whatever cousin Mummy and Daddy picked out for us,” he said. 

Lily blanched at that. 

“Mum made me do it to get out my energy,” James said. “Never worked. I would just waltz around until I broke something.”

The table laughed. 

“Lily, don’t you know how to waltz?” Mary asked. Lily sighed and nodded. 

“We learned in primary school for some reason,” Lily said. “Like anyone one of us in Cokesworth was going to need that knowledge.”

“Show me,” James said, his bright hazel eyes meeting hers. Lily raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What?” she asked, feeling the heat of a challenge from him. He smirked at her, a hand reaching up to his hair to mess it up. 

“You said no one from Cokesworth was going to need that knowledge,” he said. “So I’m asking you to show me.”

She knew what James was doing. It was plain as day. It was either a challenge or an excuse to dance with her, but frankly, she really didn’t care which it was, based on the way the butterflies erupted in her stomach. 

“I need a partner,” she said, sticking her hand out towards him. 

“You’re on,” he said, closing his book and dropping his feet to the ground. 

The warmth of his hand made her whole body tingle and she hoped her face wasn’t bright red as she felt his other hand appear on the small of her back, the starting position. Lily wondered when he got so tall, as she would have to crane her neck up to look at him. She decided to stare at the knot of his tie that was peeking out from his gray jumper. 

Marlene started humming, and they started off clumsily, but it was fine. 

“So, um, bad time to tell you Evans,” James started, glancing down at their first. “I’m bloody rubbish at dancing.”

He stepped on her foot and punched him in the arm. 

~~~

The third time they danced, Lily realized she was in bloody love with the bloke. 

Seventh year had brought a lot of surprises to Lily, including James as the head boy. It seemed since he walked into the prefect compartment on the very first day on the train, he was all she could think about. 

But they were just friends, she reminded herself every time he would playfully knock her shoulder during patrols, or stay up past midnight talking. 

When Petunia’s wedding invitation arrived at breakfast, Lily didn’t want to go, but an accompanying letter from her mother confirmed that Lily had no choice in the matter, but she could bring a date. 

When she asked James to go, her palms were sweating and her heart was jumping in her throat, but he had said yes, like it wasn’t a big deal. 

Petunia's wedding was on New Year’s eve, going into the new year. Lily had been in a bad mood as a result of her family bossing her around to get the wedding all ready. 

But when James arrived, everything seemed to change for Lily. He was dressed in nice muggle clothes and Lily could tell that he had tried to manage his hair. She hugged him tightly. 

He charmed her whole family in minutes, besides Petunia. Whether because he was a freak like Lily or because he had brown skin, Petunia glared at him constantly, her mouth pinched in a sour expression. 

Lily wanted to apologise for even bringing him into the situation but he wouldn’t hear of it. She instead, grabbing his hand, lacing her fingers with his, and didn’t let go of it once. 

During the ceremony, Lily could only focus on James’s hand in hers. He had always been fidgety, normally bouncing his leg, up and down, but he instead used Lily’s hand. Either drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb or just playing with her fingers. Lily didn’t mind it one bit and she realized that she let him do it forever. 

At the reception, Petunia and Vernon cut the cake before quickly going to their first dance. James leaned over from his spot next to her. 

“I thought Muggles smashed the cake into each other’s faces,” he whispered. Lily nodded. 

“Yeah, sometimes, but I highly doubt Petunia would go for that. Especially with how much her dress cost,” Lily replied. James pouted a little. 

“I came to see cake smashing,” he said. “I was going to write a whole paper on it for Muggle Studies.”

Lily laughed, causing a few people to give her some nastly looks because Petunia and Vernon were still doing their dance. 

“I’ll gladly smash some cake in your face,” she said. James squeezed her hand. 

“Save it for the wedding, Lils,” he whispered. 

If Lily’s heart could have leaped out of her chest, it would have in that moment. 

When James pulled out to the dance floor, she knew that she was in trouble, especially when a slow dance came on. She couldn’t help herself as she got closer to him, their bodies touching. 

“I don’t want to step on your feet,” he said, his hazel eyes sparkling as he looked down at her. 

“I don’t care, James,” she replied. “I wore closed toe shoes for a reason.”

He chuckled, Lily feeling his chest move. 

“Sorry I’m a horrid dancer,” he replied. “I practiced with Mum yesterday and I about broke her toes.”

“You practiced with your Mum?” Lily asked, feeling like the whole world stopped. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I didn’t want to make you look like a bloody fool out here.”

She loved him, every doubt leaving her body. She stopped their lazy swaying and pulled away to look up at him, smiling like a fool. James, who had no idea what Lily was thinking, smiled a little confused. 

“Evans?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“I bloody love you,” she replied. His eyes widened for a second, but they quickly closed as Lily pulled him into the best kiss of both of their lives. 

~~~

James’s hands were sweating profusely the next time they danced. 

Their small little cottage in the village of Godric’s Hollow was slowly becoming more like home to them, despite the random boxes that still linger two weeks after they moved in together. 

It had been a learning experience for both of them, despite the fact that they practically stayed with each other every night since they graduated Hogwarts some six months ago. 

Lily was a bit messy, rivaling James’s need for clear space. Lily walked through the house on light feet, but James seemed to make as much noise as possible, despite his efforts to be quieter. But all in all, they were happy and adjusting to each other. 

James did a once over of their house again, making sure things were in place. He used his mirror to talk to Sirius and Remus, basically nervously rambling until Remus looked James in the eye and told him he needed to calm down. 

But when the fireplace turned bright green, James quickly stuffed the mirror under the couch cushions and waited for Lily to emerge. 

He smiled widely at her when she stepped through. Her robes were covered in stains and she had a smear of something on her face. She immediately sat her bag down and started taking off her robes. 

“You would not believe what happened today!” she said, barely looking at James, who was smiling like a fool. 

“Was it that Cormic fellow?” James asked. Lily gave him a look, expressing her exasperation. 

“I have no idea how he even got this internship!” she said, her robes finding the ground. “He tried to put mercury in a pepper up potion. Literal poison James!”

Lily stepped forward, hugging James tightly. He squeezed her. 

“And when I put a gram of extra valerian root to increase the time of a pain relief potion, I have to write a whole report to justify it so I don’t get fired. I’m sick of it!”

“It’s absolutely not fair love,” James replied as Lily buried her face into his chest. He ran a hand through her hair. “Why don’t you go unwind in a bath, and I’ll take care of dinner, yeah?”

Lily nodded against his chest. Once she was up the stairs, it was go time. 

James quickly went to the kitchen, and lifted the spells that were keeping the smell contained. He knew if Lily smelled his Mum’s special curry when she first got home, she would be suspicious. The treacle tarts, Lily’s favorite, were kept warm in the oven. 

James quietly transformed their living room, dimming the lighting and starting their fireplace instead. He turned their coffee table into a dining room table, and shrunk the couch, placing it on the mantle for it to return to its normal size later. 

Lily was never long for baths, as she hated getting pruney, but he was adjusting the candles on the table when Lily descended down the stairs. 

“James?” she asked, causing him to jump. Lily was standing on the bottom step, nothing but her dressing gown on, which was tied tightly around her waist. 

James felt a lump in his throat as he took her in. She was so gorgeous and even though James had explored every part of her body, he still felt giddy. 

“I thought a romantic evening would be nice,” he said, gesturing around. Lily smiled. 

James went to the stairs and offered her his arm. 

“What is on the menu tonight?” Lily asked, leaning her head on his shoulder for a moment. 

“Euphemia’s special curry and rice, along with a treacle tart dessert,” James said. 

Lily beamed at him as he pulled out her chair. 

It wasn’t until the plates were empty and her dad’s old record player was playing an Elton John record. 

Just as Your Song by Elton John started, James finally mustered up the courage to start speaking. 

“It’s weird how we’ve been together for less than a year,” James said. Lily hummed in question. 

“Why?” she asked, snuggling up to his chest as they swayed back and forth. 

“It feels like we’ve been together forever,” he said. Lily thought quietly for a second. 

“Yeah, I feel that way too,” she said. “It’s weird. How we went from barely standing each other to missing you every second we’re apart.”

“Still can’t believe we thought we could live apart,” he said. Lily laughed again. 

“Won’t happen ever again, that I’m sure of,” she said. James' heart fluttered happily and the weight of the ring in his pocket seemed a thousand times lighter. 

“Living together forever, then?” he asked softly. 

“I plan on it,” she said, confidently. 

James released her. She looked up with questions in her eyes, but they quickly got the answers as James got on one knee. 

“I plan on forever too,” he said, looking at Lily who’s eyes were filled with tears. “We’re not even 19 yet, but Merlin Lily, I can’t wait. I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives together. I just know that you are the only person for me.”

He pulled the ring out of his pocket. It was a family one, but one that his mother had brought from her own family in India. Euphemia had insisted that this was the right for Lily. It was a simple opal ring, with an intricate band.

“Will you marry me?” he asked. 

Lily nodded, words failing her. She practically tackled him to the ground with kisses. 

~~~

Lily’s eyes opened up. She couldn’t identify the source of what woke her up, but as she turned over on her other side, there was no James besides her. It took a second before she heard the creak in the floorboard, coming from Harry’s room. 

She got up, knowing that Harry normally slept through the night with no problem at his age of a year and a half. The last time he woke up in the middle of the night, he was sick. Lily slipped on her slippers and walked down the hallway. 

Standing in front of the window was James’s silhouette, swaying back and forth. She could see Harry on his hip.

“You just wanted someone to cuddle, did you Harry?” she heard James whisper. Lily smiled widely.

James started humming as he rocked Harry back and forth. He pressed kisses to the top of Harry’s head.

Lily stepped forward, the wood creaking beneath her. James turned around. 

“Did we wake you?” James whispered to her as she crossed the room to him. 

“Probably,” she whispered, a smile on her lips. “But it’s fine.”

She wrapped her arms around the side of James that wasn’t holding Harry. She rested her head against his chest, coming face to face with wide green eyes. She joined in on their swaying. 

“Hi Harry,” she whispered, taking the hand that wasn’t wrapped around James to pat Harry’s back. His eyes started to flutter close. 

“He really just wanted to snuggle, huh?” she asked. 

She felt James chuckled. 

“And dance with us,” he said.

[egcdeath]

campers’ quarrel

pairing: steve rogers x reader (ft. mentions of other avengers)

summary: who would’ve guessed that a camping trip with your team and a man who you couldn’t stand would go south so quickly? (that’s a rheotical question.)

warnings: mentions of a broken bone, kind of enemies to lovers, swearing

word count: 2.4k

author’s note: i’ve honestly never gone camping before. hopefully that’s not to obvious. enjoy! 

You and Steve never really clicked. From the start of your work as an Avenger, he’d clearly been wary of you, and being new, you didn’t want to make his disdain any worse than it already was.

This didn’t go unnoticed by your teammates. The more adjusted you became to the team, the more the teasing from them grew. And unfortunately for you, it mainly revolved around your tense relationship with Steve.

Tony constantly paired the two of you up on missions, specifically ones where you’d have to pretend to be in a relationship. Sam and Nat would tease you relentlessly at parties, sitting the team down, looking at both you and Steve, then declaring that playing spin the bottle was a necessity.

With no thanks to your teammates behavior, Steve’s wariness towards you quickly turned into animosity. At least once a week, you’d both butt heads over something as small as leaving cupboards open, or as severe as not carrying your weight during a mission.

When this tension came to a head, Tony suggested that the team go on a ‘bonding’ trip to the woods. You were not completely thrilled at this, but you were a team player, and you knew for a fact that if you refused, you’d be accused of not wanting to be around Steve for an extended period of time.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a Subaru, looking at the window aimlessly while attempting to drown out the intense conversation between Natasha and Bucky over the efficiency of some gun you’d never heard of with the music in your headphones.

“Hey,” you felt a little tap on your shoulder, and you lifted one of the earbuds out of your ear. Steve gave you a right smile, “Can you turn it down some? I can hear your music from over here.”

You sighed softly. It was always something with the super soldier. “Sorry, Steve. Not all of us have super hearing.” You turned your music down regardless, but sent a bitchy text about Steve to Wanda after doing so.

“It doesn’t take a super serum to hear all of that,” Steve muttered quietly to himself. Fortunately, for the peace of everyone in the car, you didn’t hear the comment. However, you did notice Sam looking back and forth between you and Steve, and it did make you ask yourself what exactly you’d missed.

You really were not looking forward to this trip.

——

Soon after your car arrived, the camper containing the rest of your teammates made it to the campsite as well.

“All right guys,” Tony announced while rounding everyone up in a circle, “We need to experience the full camping experience. That means no powers to create whole campsites, looking at you Wanda. It also means now crushing small game with metal arms to feed the rest of us.”

“Wonder who that’s directed at,” Bucky muttered.

“Now, everyone has a part to play in setting up shop. Take it away, Pep.”

You couldn’t help but to giggle at the fact that Tony and Pepper were treating this like some sort of Keynote presentation.

“Thanks, Tony,” Pepper looked down at the clipboard she was holding. “Okay, Bucky and Sam, you’re on tent duty. Nat, Wanda, find us something to eat. Y/N, Steve, grab some firewood for us. Banner, Rhodey, once the firewood is here, you’re responsible for starting the actual fire. Good luck everyone!” Pepper said cheerily, before waving a dismissive hand to send you all off.

To say you were pissed about being paired with Steve was an understatement. But you refused to make a scene. You silently began walking behind Steve, who seemed to not want to interact with you either.

That’s how the majority of your trek for wood went. Silent and tense. You really just wanted to find any piece of wood, but it was just your luck that the ground was extremely damp, and all the wood that you came across was similarly damp and unusable.

It was strange, because time seemed to be going by very slowly, yet extremely fast at the same time. You swore that in a matter of moments, the sun was already making her way down, indicating that night was near.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” you broke what felt like the century long silence between the two of you. “Can we just give up already? I mean, we’re clearly not gonna find any good wood, and we keep getting further from camp, and we’re about to be in complete darkness.” “It’s fine, Y/N. I brought a flashlight and I’m sure that we’ll find something somewhere. Stop being such a downer.” You swore you could hear Steve roll his eyes as he went about crouching in the dirt in his search for fallen tree branches.

“I’m not being a downer, I’m being realistic. We need to go soon. We can just explain to the team that all the wood was bad,” you stood up straight, pacing around the area Steve was searching in.

“You really wanna let everyone down?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You’re not being dramatic enough. Look, I just found some dry wood. Come’ere and help me find some more.” He beckoned you over with his hand.

On your way over, you failed to notice a rather large log, and tripped rather forcefully over it, twisting your ankle dramatically in the process.

A sharp, searing pain traveled up your entire leg, and you yelped out in pain before falling onto Steve’s back, which hurt almost equally.

“OW! What the fuck!” You yelped before rolling onto the damp forrest floor.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Steve quickly turned around, and leaned over your sprawled body.

“I swear to God I just broke my ankle. And then your back decided to cripple me some more. Did you even feel it?”

“Of course I felt it. Hey, get up. Let’s see if you can walk. It’s probably not even broken,” He stepped back then stood up, extending a hand down to you to help you up. You hesitantly took his hand, somewhat nervous of what holding this man’s hand could awake in you, then attempted to stand up.

The moment you felt the weight shift to your left foot, you collapsed back onto the floor with a groan. The pain made tears well in your eyes, and you quickly became embarrassed with the emotions you were displaying in front of Steve.

“I can’t Steve. Can you call 911 or like, Tony or something?” You turned your face away from Steve’s eyeline so that he wouldn’t see you cry, but you knew the waver in your voice was betraying you.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket, then shook his head, “No reception. I’m sorry, Y/N.” The apology felt genuine, and it was kind of throwing you off. The air of annoyance that had seemed to always be between the two of you felt like it had faded away, for just a moment of seriousness.

“Can you, uh,” you awkwardly rubbed your warm cheeks at the thought of what you were about to ask. “Can you carry me back to camp?”

“I guess we don’t really have any other option.”

“Let’s just… not mention it. If anyone ever asks, this never happened. And you need to forget about it ever happening too,” as Steve began to scoop you up, you  added one more thing. “I’m not even joking, Steven. I swear to God I’ll make Bruce make an amnesia serum so you forget this ever happened.”

You could feel the laugh vibrate from Steve’s chest as he carried you bridal style. You just hoped he couldn’t feel the butterflies fly throughout your stomach.

----

A few hours into being carried, the situation began to lose its novelty, and you were beginning to become more annoyed as you realized that Steve was very lost.

“Steve, do you have any idea of where you’re going?” You questioned.

“Of course I do. Just have a little patience, okay?” He glanced down at you with furrowed brows.

“Mhm.” You said sarcastically. “I swear I’ve seen this exact tree like, three times already.”

“I’m sure you have.” He responded drily.

“What’s up with you and that attitude, Steve? You’ve always had a problem with me, and I never did anything to you.”

Steve scoffed, “what attitude?”

“That attitude!” You gestured wildly with your hands.

“Well, you’re no better. It’s not like you ever tried to be my friend or anything like that.”

“That’s not true at all. I remember during one of our first team bonding nights, I kept trying to talk to you, and you kept shrugging me off.” You pushed a finger into his chest.

“That’s because you kept asking me stupid shit, like if I’d heard of Beyoncé before or if I knew what garlic powder was. Put that finger away.”

You obliged and shrugged, “maybe I don’t remember that night as well as you do. But asking you questions like that can’t be the only reason why you dislike me so much.”

“I don’t dislike you,” Steve began while walking up a new path.

“So why do you act like that to me? How was I supposed to know that?” You looked up at Steve, and in the dark, you were still impressed by his sharp facial features.

“Can we talk about something else?” Steve glanced down at you.

“Yeah, let’s talk about how this is all your fault. If you weren’t so stubborn and just gave up on finding this damn wood, I wouldn’t be here with a broken ankle and spine. And I wouldn’t be feeling your heart racing like a hummingbird’s against my back.”

Steve blushed at this, he hadn’t considered that you could feel his heart racing. If your eyes weren’t deceiving you, you could almost make out a light red tint on his face.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Okay, Steve was definitely blushing. “If my heartbeat is annoying you so much, would you rather me leave you out on the ground for the bears to find you, and for you to become worm food?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” He stopped in his tracks, then began to lower you down, excruciatingly slowly.

“Steve! Okay, okay. I’m sorry for pointing out your heartbeat. I just wouldn’t want your geriatric ass having a heart attack on me. Now hold me.”

The both of you erupted in laughter. You honestly wondered if you and Steve stopped being such sucks to each other, if you could actually form some kind of relationship. You could see yourself being good friends with the man.

Once you both stopped laughing, a comfortable silence flooded the air. It was late, and exhaustion was clearly beginning to plague both of you. “I’m so tired,” you whined, breaking the silence.

“Me too. Should we sit down somewhere and call it a night?” Steve’s pace began to dwindle.

“I guess. It’ll probably be easier to find our way back to home base in the sun.” Steve nodded at this comment.

“I’m gonna set you on this log while I roll out the tarp. Give me a sec,” Steve followed through with his statement, then looked through his backpack to find the blue tarp for you two to lay on.

You waited patiently for Steve to roll it out, then when he did, you slid onto it, wincing in the process at your throbbing ankle.

“You okay?” Steve asked, a genuine concern in his voice as he sat down next to you on the tarp.

“‘m fine.” You mumbled, throwing your arm over your face and sighing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you to the campsite.” Steve said softly beside you. “Really.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away from you as you turned your head to look at him.

“It’s okay Steve. I’ll probably be fine. Nothing a night in medbay can’t fix, right?” You smiled a bit, even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

Even in your uncomfortable position, sleep was quickly overtaking your body. Your brain was barely functioning at this point.

You reached a hand over onto Steve’s chest, and you once again felt his heartbeat pick up. “I’m sorry that I act like this,” you mumbled, your words slurring together. “I think you’re really great.”

Steve’s hand landed on top of yours. “You’re not so bad either,” he slurred sleepily. “You know, the reason why I act like I don’t like you is ‘cause I like you a lot. You’re pretty… cool. You’re pretty and cool.”

“Aw Stevie,” you sighed happily. Steve turned his head to you and gave you a smile that you could only faintly see in the dark. “Are you cold?” you asked abruptly, interrupting the moment you two were having.

“Yes! I thought it was just me. It’s like negative 500 degrees out here-“

“Spoon me. Let’s conserve our warmth,” you hummed out, and Steve quickly and happily obliged. With that, the both of you were out like lights.

——

“Fucking finally!” Bucky cheered, making your eyes open abruptly.

“And to think we thought we’d lose our lovebirds forever.” Rhodey laughed.

You had to blink a few times before your vision (and brain) finally cleared enough to acknowledge what was happening in front of you.

The sun was up, and your whole team had showed up in front of you and Steve, watching you two spoon affectionately in your sleep.

“Ew, what?” You scooted away from Steve, then groaned at the persistent throbbing of your ankle. At this point, Steve shot up as well.

“What is going o-“ his eyes practically bulged out of his skull when he saw his teammates. “Oh shit.”

“You two have lots of explaining to do,” Sam laughed at the situation.

“Let’s start with this: I think I broke my ankle yesterday. So who wants to help me get back to camp?”

——

You sat at the kitchen table of the camper on your way back to the compound, a mug of lukewarm coffee sitting in your hands while you contemplated the weird ass night you’d just had.

While deep in your thoughts, a seat was pulled out, and none other than Steve Rogers sat right down in it.

“So, are we gonna talk about what happened yesterday?” He asked you with a bit of a smirk.

“No. I don’t think we will.”

[loserholland]

𝐀 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 | 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➺ Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark!Reader ft Morgan Stark (platonic)

Warning ➺ Slight TFATWS spoiler, some angst, pure fluff, Morgan being a comedian 

Word Count ➺ 2.9k

Summary ➺ After the blip and loosing his best friend, you were there to keep Bucky grounded.

A/N ➺ Based off the song “I hear a symphony” by Cody Fry, such an amazing song. I’M ALSO SO SORRY IF I’M A LITTLE RUSTY 

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou​@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv​ @spider-mendes​ @jessybellsworld​ @quaksonhehe​

☞  Masterlist  ☜

Five years.

It had been five years before everyone returned, five years since Thanos snapped his fingers and wiped nearly 50% of the content. Five years of darkness, questioning whether or not those who turned to dust would come back. The thought of those who disappeared never coming back scared everyone, the thought of never seeing your mother, father, daughter, son- your friends and siblings again?

(Y/N) was one of the lucky ones to not turn to dust, but watching those around her slowly disintegrate never failed to bring her to tears every night. She was lucky enough to fight along side everyone, disobeying Tony’s order of staying put and “letting the adults handle it” she instead convinced Rhodey to let her follow, claiming if he let her he’d be her favorite uncle.

That’s where she saw him again, after nearly two years since Berlin. She had of course stuck by her father’s side and when he had gone to Sibera she stood with him. That’s when they had learned the winter soldier had killed her father’s parents. (Y/N) never entirely blamed Bucky, he never did it. It was the Winter Solider, not Bucky.

Tony always said she had her mothers heart and if her mom was still around she’d be proud of her, for always trying to see the best in people whether they’re good or bad.

“Wow, you’ve grown kid.”

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

A voice all too familiar spoke slowly she turned on her heels, his hair was still long it grew merely a few inches. He had also grown out his beard, the last time she had saw him it was more over stumble. She chuckled lightly stepping forward but keeping some distance between them, “Kid? I’m twenty-one James, plus we’ve been over this- I hate it when you guys call me kid!”

Bucky let out a small laughter showing off his pearly white teeth, there was always something about Bucky that made (Y/N)’s stomach fill with butterflies. I mean- who wouldn’t? Bucky was a handsome man.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

“How have you been old-man?”

(Y/N) was the only person who had called Bucky by his first name, of course you had seen his files and even read about him smithsonian exhibit. She just felt she didn’t have the right to call him Bucky due to not knowing him long enough.

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes” she read to herself, reading the following description of the man.

That’s when you first saw how handsome this he was. And, when you first met him in Berlin it was amazing to see him up close. Well it’s not so amazing when some dumbass breached the centre and turned him back into the winter solider for a minute causing him to well fight everyone in his path.

After your dad’s ass was handed to him, he surely handed your ass to you he had you in a choke hold against the wall, your feet was a few inches above the ground.

“James, please.”

He’s eyes widened every so slightly tightening his metal hand around your throat, you felt yourself slide down against the wall gasping for air watching as T’Challa and him fought one another.

“I’ve been good, I’ve never felt so- calm an at peace in a while.”

(Y/N) smiled, that was good, it was good to see him happy for once and not afraid he’ll hurt someone again. He was brave and strong, from what she had read in the smithsonian exhibit and what she had seen in the past two years.

“Guys lets go, and kid stop leaving my sight your dad will kill me if anything happens!” (Y/N) groaned and stomped her feet to the ground “Uncle Rhodey! Stop calling me kid!” Bucky only chuckled at her, a sense of warmth filled his body- an uncommon warmth.

𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸

(Y/N) knocked on Bucky’s apartment door, “Why aren’t we at the zoo yet?” Morgan questioned looking up at her older sister in confusion- Pepper was out of town dealing with business so she had to bring Morgan along to her.

When everyone came back, she had grown closer to Bucky. They had both lost someone, she had lost her father and he lost his best friend. Ever since her father’s death, she would dream about him often it started to become a regular thing after she started hanging out with Bucky. Last night’s dream, he had told her that if she got with Barnes he would be okay with it and to also apologize for blasting his arm off. Maybe it was just her subconscious playing tricks on her.

She crouched down slightly to be the same height as her sister, “Babe, remember I told you that my friend James would be coming along?” just then the door opened causing (Y/N) to fall back at the sudden movement. Instead of helping her sister up or asking if she was okay, she laughed and said “You fell on your booty.” oh, she was definitely Tony Starks daughter.

Bucky quickly helped her up apologizing for giving her a small fright, she noticed something different about Bucky he had cut his long hair. Just a few days ago he had it up in a man bun, “You cut your hair?” his brows furrowed, he ran his gloved fingers through his freshly cut hair “Does it look bad?” worry laced his voice.

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “No! It looks good!” Morgan looked between the two adults standing in front of her before she let out a dramatic sigh, “Can we go now?” with that Bucky locked grabbed his keys and locked the front door as they proceeded towards the elevator.

The Central Park Zoo was in walkable distance, so (Y/N) left he car parked in the garage of Bucky’s apartment. Morgan stared at Bucky gloved hand she tilted her head slightly before asking, “Why are you wearing gloves? Aren’t your hands sweating?” (Y/N) eyes widened looking at the top of Morgan’s head then to Bucky who was laughing.

“Morgan!”

“It’s a serious question.” she shrugged as she kicked her feet awaiting for an answer, “Well because, this arm-” he lifted his left arm “is made out of vibranium.” Morgan looked up at him before saying, “Cool- now swing!” she grabbed his hand causing (Y/N) to look at Bucky. She knew he was a bit touch sensitive, “Mor-” before she could say her sister’s name again Bucky cut her off “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” he took her small hand into his before pulling his arm back then forward.

𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶

Bucky watched as you smiled whenever Morgan would let out a small giggle, he felt the same warmth he did back in Wakanda. The same warmth she could only give him. He was grateful to have her in his life, she gave him the benefit of the doubt seeing the good and accepting the bad. He knew that she knew his history but still befriended him anyways saying, “there’s good in everyone even if you can’t see the good in you, I do.”

“How has therapy been going?” They stood behind the four year old who was admiring the penguins. Bucky shrugged lightly fixing his gaze to his shoes, “‘ts been good.” he mumbled. It had been about two weeks since he started therapy with Dr.Christina Raynor, you knew he had trouble opening up and well at most times never opened up at all. 

Morgan came running back to the two, “I wanna see the red pandas.” she grabbed theirs hands and began to drag them towards her current favorite animal at the moment.

She wondered if he still had nightmares, there were times he’d call her just to talk because he couldn’t go back to sleep. The sound of an old sitcom could be heard in the background anytime he’d call.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦

Bucky watched as (Y/N) carried Morgan in her arms pointing at the red pandas, red pandas? How are they even pandas? Bucky thought to himself, watching as (Y/N) made Morgan giggle loudly she must have said some kind of joke. He watched as she turned her head slightly catching her eye, he began to notice this twinkle whenever she was smiling or talking about something she’s passionate about or enjoyed.

"So, what did you think?” the credits of Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone began to roll in.  As far as Bucky knew, the only wizard he had read about before was Gandalf in the hobbit. Who would’ve thought about writing a book about a 11 year old wizard?

“It was surprisingly good.” He watched as her eyes lit up the corners of her lips tugging upwards.  He loved to see her smile, to see the twinkle in her eye just before she spoke on about how much she loved something.

“I knew you would like it! Gosh it’s amazing- I could go on about the wizarding world but I’m sure you would rather not-”

“I have the time.”

(Y/N) had concluded Bucky would belong in Hufflepuff and basically forced him to take the pottermore test in which she was correct, he was in fact a hufflepuff. She had gone on why he’s in hufflepuff- though he didn’t really care about the reasons he just wanted to hear her talk.

“You have a lovely family.”

The comment caused Bucky to turn his head slightly pulling him from the recent memory, an elderly woman who seemed to be in her late sixties gave him a warm smile. “Uh- she’s actually my-” what is she to me?  Before Bucky could answer (Y/N) had walked over with Morgan still in her arms.

“Hey, ready to go?”

Before Bucky could answer the lady spoke again, “I was just telling your husband you have a lovely family.” (Y/N) eyes widened her mouth slightly agape before responding, “We’re actual friends and, she’s my younger sister.” friends.

“Oh, my apologies. Have a great rest of your day.”

(Y/N) gave the lady a warm smile watching as she walked away, “Well, I think you’ve seen enough animals don’t you think?” Morgan tapped her index finger against her chin pinching her brows together, sometimes she was just a mini version of your dad or sometimes Pepper- but mostly Tony.

“Yeah- I’m hungry.” 

Making their way towards the exit the gift shop had caught Morgan’s eye, specifically a red panda plush she shrieked loudly causing (Y/N) to jump with caution thinking something was wrong with her little sister, while Bucky stood there with his eyes widened.

“I need it!”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed, “Morgan- you know mom is gonna be mad at me if I get you yet another red panda plush. Remember, you have like a billion of them.” Morgan pouted slightly crossed her arms across her chest and stomped away.

“Dad would’ve gotten it for me!” (Y/N) frowned at the comment, of course he would’ve- he loved seeing the smile on your face anytime he got you something whether you were five or nineteen. 

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦

“I’ll meet you guys outside- I’m gonna use the restroom.” Bucky spoke, watching as she ran after her little sister. Well- he didn’t actually need to use the restroom- he had gotten the plush Morgan was head over heels for. He waited a couple minutes before finally exiting the zoo spotting (Y/N) holding Morgan in her lap as they sat on a bench not too far from the exit.

He held the plush behind his back, as he drew closer he could hear Morgan sob quietly. He sat down next to (Y/N) leaning his head slightly onto her shoulder, “Hey Morgan.” the five year old pulled back slightly wiping the back of her sleeve across her nose lips still in a pout.

Slowly he pulled the plush that was hidden behind his back into view, watching as Morgan’s eyes widened an a huge smile paint her lips quickly she snatched it from his hand and hugged it turning her body from side to side.

Morgan hopped out of her sister’s lap and onto Bucky’s wrapping her arms around his neck, “Thank you, thank you!” she chanted catching Bucky off guard as he slowly wrapped his arms around her.

“Anytime kid.” 

They walked back to Bucky’s apartment in comfortable silence, Morgan squealing every here and there every time she hugged her new plush. Once they had reached his apartment, Bucky offered for the two to stay for pizza which Morgan quickly agreed to. 

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘳

(Y/N) and Bucky situated themselves in the kitchen cross from each other- (Y/N) sat on a stool while Bucky stood. Meanwhile Morgan was in the living room distracted with her new plush, “Thank you for getting her the plush- I- I just didn’t know how to react when she said-” Bucky placed his hand over hers squeezing it reassuringly, she squeezed back giving him a warm smile. They stayed like this for a few minutes before (Y/N) cleared her throat causing Bucky to pull his hand away. 

“You never answered my question earlier, about therapy.” She watched as he tensed at the word therapy, truth be told. He was struggling, he was still having nightmares and he was having trouble opening up to his therapist. He gets annoyed whenever she pulls out her notebook and starts to scribble stuff down.

“I made amends with um- Senator Atwood. No one got hurt.” (Y/N) nodded, “That’s good! Any progress with Dr.Raynor?” Bucky sighed lightly, running his fingers through his hair, “Kind of? I mean every time I tell her I haven’t had a nightmare she gets all aggressive and writes in her notebook.” 

𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦

She frowned slightly, taking his hands into hers “James, you sometimes talk to me about your nightmares right?” he nodded slightly ushering her to continue, “You have to slowly open up- it’s gonna help James. And If you want, I’ll go with you. I’ll wait in the waiting room- whatever it takes to get you to talk.”

She cared so much about him, it made her chest feel heavy. She would do anything for him.

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

He had spent nearly seventy years as someone else, he was afraid that after he erased his past it would still catch up to him someday. That he would still become the winter solider even after all this therapy and time away.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

But you were there to reassure him that would never happen, that he was a good person and no longer the person he use to be. She was there to reassure him that he was James Buchanan Barnes and not the winter solider.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘺

You were the light in his darkness, you were there to guide him and to stay by his side. He thought you’d run away after what he had done to your grandparents but you’re there to remind him that he had no choice that HYDRA had control over him but you knew deep down he tried to fight it.

Bucky tugged his hands back quickly pulling away from the counter and walked around to engulf (Y/N) into a hug, he was afraid that if he were to allow himself to love someone they’d only end up hurt. He didn’t want to loose her, he didn’t want to scare you away.

“Please don’t leave.”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “Why would I leave? I would never leave you Bucky.” he pulled away slightly, did he hear that right? “Did you just call me Bucky?” her eyes widened, “Oh I’m so-” he cupped her cheeks closing the gap between the two placing capturing her lips. Something he had been waiting to do.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

It was exactly like how people described sharing a kiss with someone they’ve longed to be with, fireworks and butterflies the way your skin heats up and your cheeks turn into a tomato red.

(Y/N) wrapped her hand around his wrist pulling back slightly for air a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “Hello? Did you guys not here the door? Someone pay the guy!” Morgan carried the huge box of pizza and placed it onto her sisters lap before turning away to the living room. She quickly fetched her wallet wanting to beat Bucky from paying- but he knocked her wallet out of her hands and quickly rushed to the door.

She had given her sister a slice of pizza and ushered her to go back to the living room, “You make it seem as if I never saw people kiss before.” Morgan stuck her tongue out at her sister before returning to the living room.

“So-” Bucky began leaning against the doorway of the kitchen (Y/N) running up to him to wrap her arms around his neck the impact causing the two to fall to the ground with a loud thud. “You know- know a days people usually go on dates before the first kiss.” (Y/N) joked causing Bucky to smile, “Well in that case. (Y/N) would you like to go out tomorrow?” she quickly pecked his lips.

“I’d love to Bucky.”

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘈 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

[mandoalorian]

Hi 👋 hope your staying safe! Can I request something with Santi, please? Could you write something where Santi and reader used to be friends as kids, Santi having looked out for reader when she was picked on or if she fell over at school, but then after he graduated they lost contact until years later reader reaches out to him randomly and they reunite, maybe fall in love??

Sorry if it's strange, I'm going through something similar but I'm trying to get the guts to reach out to the guy, it's nerve wracking!! 😳😨 Maybe reading something will give me a boost 😂

Tinder [Santiago Garcia x F!Reader]

Word count: 1,700

Rating: 18+ I guess? I don’t know. Nothing explicit, it’s just Tinder is an 18+ app.

Warnings: food mention, tinder mention, allusions to sex

Masterlist

Tinder. It was so tedious. An app that had gained it’s reputation for being nothing more than a “hookup app” or even a “sex app”. It was associated with superficiality and laced with sexual innuendos. It was the app that had been accused of igniting modern day hookup culture. It was the app that Santiago Garcia frequented every damn day. The man even paid a premium! It was a quick and easy way for him to meet girls for drinks and a quick fuck. It’s all a man like Santiago had time for. Falling in love wasn’t an option for him. It was something he’d never considered until Games Night last week. 

Once upon a time, Will’s small living room was just filled with him, Santiago, Frankie, Benny and Tom, but the head count had grown extensively over the past few years. Tom had reconciled with Molly, Yovanna and Benny had something going on, and now even Frankie was engaged to the blonde haired, blue eyed girl who sat quietly in the corner sipping tea and doodling in her sketchbook. 

Santiago didn’t mind the girls. In fact, he actually enjoyed their company, but their presence only had him yearn for something more. He’d never been one to think about settling down or starting a family of his own, but he felt an indirect pressure. Maybe trying out one long term relationship wouldn’t be so bad after all? But he was so used to his flings. How was he ever going to grow out of his commitment issues and find someone he could really connect with.

Truthfully, he’d already found her, about fifteen years ago.

You and Santiago Garcia were the best of friends. You used to do everything together; walking home from school hand in hand, singing and dancing when you thought no one was around, playing LEGO and building up jigsaw’s. He was your soulmate, in every sense of the word. But you can’t stay young forever and eventually Santiago left your small neighbourly town to join the military. And you never saw him again.

Which is why it was a surprise when you, half asleep at 2 am, and drooling on your pillow, lazily swiped right on his profile. You weren’t even paying attention. Just another tanned skin man with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. It was a haze, and your desperation to move on from your ex boyfriend had you yearning to meet someone new. You groaned tiredly, deciding you were never going to find someone as good as your ex, switched your phone off and shoved it under your pillow before finally getting some sleep.

At around 3 am, Santiago still wasn’t asleep, thanks to his roommate Frankie and his fiancée keeping probably the whole apartment complex awake. He pulled out his phone from his nightstand and checked Tinder. That’s when he saw you. Before even checking your name, he could tell it was you by that familiar sparkle in your eyes, and the way your perfect lips curled into a smile. It might have been fifteen years since he’d last seen you, but just looking at your photo made it feel like yesterday. He couldn’t contain his wide grin as he flicked through your photos. You looked just as beautiful as ever, and Santiago recalled the crush he had on you when you were both kids. He wondered how come you hadn't settled down already. He knew you always dreamed of getting married and having kids, with a big house and a big dog. So why were you on Tinder?

In a simple spur of the moment, Santiago swiped right.

‘It’s a match!’ the words blew up on Santiago’s screen and illuminated the dark bedroom. Streamers and confetti exploded around your photo; the typical thing that always happened when he matched with women on Tinder, only now it actually felt like celebrating. This meant that you must’ve swiped right on him too. 

You spent the morning the same way you always did, laying in bed and checking the notifications on your different social media. Just before you were about to get up, you remembered how you’d impulsively installed Tinder the night before and, on a whim, you opened the app to see if you had matched with anyone.

You scrolled through the eight matches you’d gained through the night, frowning and twisting your face in disgust at some of the profiles. You really hadn’t been paying attention to who you were swiping.

Your eyes went comically wide when you read the name at the end of the list.

‘You have matched with: Santiago Garcia! Say hi!’

It was like time had frozen and you read the words over and over again. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. You wondered how many Santiago Garcia’s lived in New York City - or more specifically, only three miles away?!

You hammered your thumb into your screen to view his profile and you were blown away as you went through his photos. That was definitely him. That was definitely your childhood best friend. Although his hair was once dark and curly, it was now short and slightly salt and peppered. He had a slight graze of facial hair in all of his photos, and in most of them, he was seen to be hanging out with a bunch of other guys. Wait- was that Francisco Morales too? They were still friends?

You were so nervous to say something. Truthfully, if you had come across his profile at any other moment where you weren’t half asleep, and hopelessly desperate for love, your fear would’ve stopped you from swiping right. You’d been in love with Santiago since pre-school. It had been over a decade but you still thought about him every single day and cherished those long lost moments you spent together. 

But the reality was, that he’d swiped right on you too. He was interested in you as well! Which had to count for something. You took a deep breath and typed out the words “Hello :)” before quickly turning your phone off and throwing it across your bedroom. 

You sat bolt upright in your bed for a few moments, contemplating what you had done. You told yourself it would be okay and asked yourself what was the worst that could happen. You sighed and forced yourself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

Turning off your phone was a good idea because you’d actually forgotten about messaging Santiago until about lunch time. You flicked through the television channels, holding a lazily put together sandwich in your free hand, and landed on a dating game show. You considered applying, thinking about how fun it might be, when you remembered you might already have a shot with someone else. Santiago. You dropped your sandwich on the coffee table in a frenzy, ran to your bedroom and turned on your phone. The painful minute it took to completely boot up sent butterflies rampant in the pit of your stomach.

Santiago: Hey! How you doing? I gotta say I was really surprised to see that we matched last night. It’s been a long time!

Oh my god. He’d replied. He’d replied three hours ago and you hadn’t said anything back. Shit. You wondered if you had already blown your chances, but little did you know, Santiago had been holding out for a message from you for a long time.

You: Right...almost fifteen years, I think! I’m okay. How are you?

You pressed send and took a deep breath. It was okay. Just casual small talk. It would be okay. You slid your phone into your pocket and went back to eat your sandwich. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the game show, you just couldn’t stop thinking about Santiago.

“Santi! You got a new message!” Frankie called from the other room, taking a huge, messy bite out of a candy bar and picking up his phone.

“Frankie! I’m literally on the toilet… can it wait?” Santiago cried, face palming and chuckling incredulously. Living with his best friend for five long years meant that Santiago had become accustomed to interactions like this.

“No, I don’t think so,” Frankie mumbled, knotting his eyebrows together as he read the notification that had popped up on the screen. “Hey, are you talking to Y/N L/N from high school?”

“Wh- what?” Santiago asked, feeling his cheeks flush.

“Oh my God you are!” Frankie gasped excitedly, typing in his friend’s passcode for his phone and getting inside. “On Tinder!”

Santiago finished up washing his hands and walked out the bathroom, an unamused scowl drawn upon his lips. Frankie swallowed at his best friend’s expression.

“This has to stop,” Santiago warned, taking his phone from Frankie’s hand. “I love you buddy, I really do. But you’re getting married next Summer. You can’t keep trying to talk to me while I’m on the toilet!” 

Frankie laughed and rolled his eyes before getting back to his video game. 

Santiago was shocked to be reminded that you had remembered exactly how long it had been since you last saw each other. He began to compose his next message. You practically screamed when you felt your phone vibrate at the notification.

Santiago: I’m well, thanks for asking. Would you be interested in meeting up sometime for a few drinks? I’d love to catch up.

Drinks. A catch up. It sounded perfect. You already found your mind racing as you wondered what to wear.

You: That sounds great!

Santiago’s reply came fleetingly.

Santiago: Are you free tonight? X

Tonight was so soon… but you were free, and it felt like you’d been waiting forever to reunite with your childhood crush. And he felt the same way. It was so exciting for both of you.

You: Tonight sounds great. See you then :) x 

You and Santiago spent the rest of the day in anticipation to see one another. You didn’t know then, but the accidental Tinder encounter turned out to be the long lasting and perfect relationship both you and Santiago craved. The soulmates were reunited at last.

Taglists - let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

[fandomout]

Frenchie x Reader

Not my gif

I have seen way to little content about the boy so here’s one for Frenchie

You and Frenchie are close friends.  

As the loss of Kimiko’s brother happened recently, it sent Kimiko into fits of rage and desire for revenge. While everyone was worried about her, Frenchie was the only one trying to get involved. You and him being close, he confided in you about it. This time he mentioned tailing her as he knew she was going out today. 

“Frenchie, I think you should stay here. If it makes you feel better, I can tail her. No one knows I’m a part of your group.”

“I have to go.”

“Frenchie, you could get caught any moment. Kimiko at least has her abilities-”

“I’m going. Are you coming or not?” He gave you a playful smirk that you couldn’t resist. You nodded your head at him hesitantly. He rushed forward to bring you into a chaste hug with the added few chaste kisses to the cheek. You immediately went red, and you were grateful that he went off to another part of the basement. 

Currently, you and him were trailing behind Kimiko. Despite, the focus being Kimiko, you hadn’t forgotten the fact that he was the one most in danger if anything happened. Thus, you were cautious to make sure his hoodie covered him properly. You were trying to stay 5 steps ahead if at any point he got noticed by the police. As Kimiko stops to look at Stormfront, Kimiko looks like she’ll attack. The momentary distraction let's Frenchie slip past you and over to Kimiko. As Stormfront flies off, Kimiko rushes off and away from Frenchie, who goes deeper into the crowd much to your discontent. You noticed a wandering side-eye from one of the police men and saw him gesture toward Frenchie. You quickly rush forward and pull him close as you drag him roughly through the crowd. You shove him into a small store nearby. A large marble column hiding him as he’s behind the glass. Immediately, you see the police getting closer. You muster up the loudest scream you can. Everyone looks over at you. You scream, “I saw one of those wanted psychos on tv running over there!” One of the police asks you to walk along in the supposed sighting of the criminal. As the team confirms no ones around, they say you have to go for questioning. You're worried as is; however, your blood pressure spikes when you see the Vought tower in sight. You try not to hyperventilate. Visibly, you seem fine, but you're trying to figure out how you’ll play this out and calm down. 

They lead you into the team meeting room. By then, your biggest concern is your heart. You're well aware that Homelander will be the one questioning you as he’s a literal human lie detector. It’s not so much caring about what’ll happen to you, but they might find a way to use you to get to everyone else. You couldn’t bear that thought. You decided your strategy would be to think of something to calm you down. You tried animals and cute things. Ultimately, you stopped on Frenchie. He could always make you feel better. He made you feel safe and comforted. Something about him was familiar and like home. You chose him, and you were going to try your best with white lies. 

As Homelander walks up, you immediately try to imagine Frenchie was with you. 

“Hello.” He says kindly, but his smile was unsettling. You knew the truth behind it. Knowing your heart was going to spike from the thought, you cover it up by acting excited and say, “I-Wow-I didn't expect the Homelander to be here. You're the one questioning me. I can't believe I’m meeting you.” You want to throw up from the words.

“I know I’m a sight to behold, but we really need your help.” He says more firmly. You nod slowly. 

“How can I help?”

“First. I need you to I.D which criminal you saw.” He pulls up pictures on the table your hands lay on. You act scared as your hands shake, and you point to Frenchie’s photo.

“Did you see him trying to do anything specific?”

“I think he was following someone.”

“Was it anyone on this list?”

“Yes. It’s the girl.”

“Do you know where they went?”

“No.”

“You don’t know anything else that might be important?”

“Like what? What’s considered important? I just was in the crowd hearing the speech Stormfront was giving, and I saw his face. That’s all.”

“Well, if you happened to see him again, let us know. There’s a number you can call on the Vought website.”

“I hope I don’t see him again. I was scared he was gonna do something, but I know what you mean.”

“Are you sure there is nothing else to say?” He lowers himself down to your level. He holds the top of the chair roughly and looks at you sternly. You imagine Frenchie making a funny face and you shake your head. You’d hoped it kept your heart under control. He pulls away with another fake smile. “Thank you for your help. I have hero duties. Bye.”

“Bye. Nice meeting you!” You say. You are led out quickly from the tower, but you don’t let your heart give out any true feelings until you're in your apartment. You shut the door and let out a breath. You close your eyes and try to calm down for real this time. When you open your eyes and walk though your small hallway, you turn on the lights. You stop in your tracks as you notice all of your curtains were down. You hadn't left them like that. Immediately, you took out your taser and pepper spray and continued walking forward. You round the corner about to use both when you see Frenchie. His arms raised in defense.

“Let's not hurt Frenchie!” He says rushed in a weirdly cheerful tone. 

“Frenchie?” He gave you a bright smile. You hit him softly and tell him, “I could have tased you!” 

“But, you didn’t, mona mi.” You huff at him before walking over to your kitchen counter to put your things down. Suddenly, you're more aware that he’s here and say, “Wait! Did something happen?! Are you okay?! Is everything okay back at the-” He covers your mouth with an adoring smile planted on his face.  

“Nothing happened to us or me while you were gone.” You speak forgetting his hand was there, and it all gets muffled. He removes his hand to allow you to say, “Good. You shouldn't be here. It’s dangerous.” You rush toward the window to make sure all the curtains are secure. You are happy that you  don’t have a television. You would have covered it up. You dim the lights. He lets out a small laugh at the erratic behaviors, but he lightheartedly, says, “I came to make sure there was no harm done to even a hair on your head.” You give him a weird look. “I was worried. You could have gotten hurt.”

“As you see, I am fine. I’ll drive you back to the store.” He holds his hands out to gesture for you to stop.

“I’m already here. I might as well spend a little more time.” He says and sits right on the couch.”

“Frenchie, you being here is dangerous...” He just keeps his smile. You let out a sigh and hand him a bottle of water. You sit next to him. 

“Tell me what happened.”

“I got questioned and came home.”

“Homelander talked to you?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you make it out of there? I would of shit myself if he was standing right there.” You let out a small laugh and shrugged at him. “Come on, admit you were scared.”

“Of course. I was...I got through it though. I knew my heart would give everything away, so I tried to stay calm.”

“How did you do that? I need to know your secret.”

“I just thought of something that I liked. An image of something I liked to calm myself with.”

“What did you think of?”

“A person was better since I have some kind of attachment.” He sat up straighter in his seat and asked, “Who?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“But I do. Don’t be embarrassed. You can't be with me.” 

“You. I thought of you since you're really nice and stuff.”

“It worked?”

“Yeah…” You looked away from him as you felt awkward and weird. You hear shifting on the other side of the couch. You want to facepalm yourself as you think you’ve made him uncomfortable . Actually, what you hadn’t seen was he made himself even more comfortable. He made himself sit right next to you. You turned your head to see his face right in front of you. His arms reached over to wrap his arms around your shoulders. Your heart beats quickly at the situation at hand as you don’t know where it leads. You look to his lips as he smiles. His smile reassures you, but it sends butterflies to your stomach. You meet his eyes. He uses his free hand to boop your nose, which manages to relieve all the stress of the situation's you burst into laughter. He states, “You're adorable.” You don’t have much time to process before he kisses you. You stand stiff at his actions. He pulls away and asks, “You do not like kissing me?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand a kiss?”

“Not that.” You remove yourself from him. “I thought you liked Kimiko.”

“I have feelings for her?”

“Yeah.”

“We are friends. I understand her because we are friends.”

“Okay...but your saying you like me?” He crouches down with a smile on his face, and he takes your hands. 

“I like you very much. J’adore ton sourire. Tu es charmante. Tu me rends heureux. Je veux être avec toi.” You give him a loving look, despite not knowing what he was saying. You squeeze his hand back. He lets out a chuckle and asks, “Do you know what I said?” You shook your head, cheeks flushed, and said, “No but it sounded heavenly.” 

“I love your smile. You are charming. You make me happy. I want to be with you.” You reach out for his face trying to find words instead you let yourself take the reins this time and kiss him. An intense hot sensation fuels from your throat, down to your chest, though your arms and continues to spread until your whole body is hot. You pull away breathless. The only words you can muster are, “I love you.” 

I hope your day got a little bit better

[kyber-crystal]

➳ pickup lines || s.w.

summary: you’re oblivious to the fact that sam, your best friend is hopelessly in love with you. and it kills him inside because he’s been dropping hints for as long as he can remember. 

warnings: none, just fluff and a cliche best friends to lovers trope :) 

words: almost 2k

a/n: for @marvelsswansong​ ‘s late birthday present! sorry this was so late and that it’s so bad RIP i tried to write it in one go...anyway our boy sam deserves some more recognition sksksk

“Guess what this shirt is made of?” Sam smirked as he pointed at himself. “Boyfriend material.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a chuckle. “Oh, stop it.”

He slid into the seat next to you at the kitchen counter, swiping the spare muffin from your plate. “Y’know what’s on the menu today? Me-n-u.”

You just shook your head, spreading jam across your toast before biting into it. “Wow.”

“They say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth,” he cleared his throat, “well, apparently, nobody has ever been standing next to you. You are absolutely breathtaking.”

“I look gross,” you argued as you tried to hide your face with one hand, “I got three hours of sleep after helping Bruce in the labs and I’m a mess.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You always look beautiful. Especially to me.”

Even if he was joking, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at his comment.

“Oh my god, will you shut UP,” Bucky groaned. “You’re cheesy as fuck, Wilson.”

“You’re just jealous because nobody likes you,” Sam retorted. 

“Ooh, shots fired,” you whispered, cupping your hands around your mouth, “need some ice for that burn, Barnes?”

“He isn’t wrong, though,” Wanda shrugged, pouring herself a mug of coffee, “the chemistry is evident here. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten together yet.”

You let out a long sigh and went back to focusing on finishing your meal, not noticing the several glances Sam stole out of the corner of his eye at you.

...

“Y/N. “

“Natasha,” you replied without breaking your concentration on murdering the punching bag in front of yourself. 

“Girl, how long are you going to keep this act up for?”

You dropped your fists by your side, sighing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You and Wilson.”

“What about it?” you questioned as you began unwrapping the tape from your hands. She handed you your water bottle and you took a long sip, “We’re best friends. I don’t see anything special about that.”

“Best friends or not, he clearly likes you. I’m not gonna sugarcoat this: you’ve been the most oblivious idiot ever. If what he’s doing isn’t obvious enough, then I don’t know what is.”

“He does not. Sam’s just being Sam. That’s who he is. It’s in his nature to joke around.”

“Does he use pickup lines on me in every other sentence he speaks? No. Does he do that to Bucky? Never-”

“Because him and Bucky are rivals, and you guys are just f...”

“Just friends! Babe, you proved my point.”

“Oh, shut up...”

“If you don’t take matters into your own hands, then I will. You keep turning the poor man down and you don’t even know it. Tragic.”

“Natasha, I do not like any-” The redhead gave you her signature ‘look’, crossing her arms over your chest. Your shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.”

“What reason do you have to be scared? You’ve gotten shot, you’ve led countless teams into battle before, you’ve taken out aliens with the power of your fists alone. Hell, we survived the Red Room together, and you’re afraid of catching feelings?”

“What if I embarrass myself by telling him?”

“Are you nuts? He’d be over the moon if you did so much as react to what he said. Poor guy’s feeling discouraged by your poker face. Give him a chance. He’s your best friend, you don’t wanna ruin the relationship you have together.”

“Fiiiiiine.” You whined and tossed your sweaty towel at her. “Now leave me alone so I can go take a shower.”

She laughed and tossed it back. “Alright. Tell me when you’re officially dating!”

“I hate you!”

“Love you too, babe!” she called out after you as you left the facility.

...

“SAM!” you yelled from the bathroom “Get your ass over here!”

“Am I in trouble?” he asked innocently as he peeked his head through your doorway. “You need something?”

“I forgot to bring a shirt with me. Can you get mine from the laundry? The black one?”

“Yeah, of course.” You heard him shuffling around before falling silent, then there was a knock on your door. “Here. Take this.”

“Thanks,” you nodded before taking the shirt and closing the door behind you. 

You looked down and let out a groan when you realized he’d mixed up the shirts and given you his instead - a V-neck you’d seen him wear plenty of times when you, him, and Steve went on morning runs together. It was ridiculously tight on him and you absolutely hated it because you couldn’t help but stare. But you didn’t like him. Definitely not.

Right?

Right.

You trudged down the hall to the kitchen, walking into to see Bucky’s and Sam’s awaiting smirks.

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow at him, “Samuel, where is my shirt?”

“Dunno,” he feigned innocence, “I got mixed up.”

“Okay.”

“I’m no photographer, but I can picture you and me together,” he sent you a finger gun and a flirty wink. 

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re such a sap.”

“Y/N! Hi!” Peter dropped his backpack and rushed forward, tackling you into a big hug. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise but quickly returned the gesture, ruffling his hair playfully. “Hey, kid. How was school?”

He made a face. “Sucked. I actually need your help with an assignment. I’m supposed to interview three role models in my life about stuff and Mr. Stark is in the middle of a conference call right now so...yeah.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Me? I’m not special-”

“If you weren’t special then Ned wouldn’t constantly fangirl over you to me. He always asks me if it’s true you can shoot lasers out of your eyes and hands.”

You chuckled. “I feel honored. Count me in, Queens.”

The two of you headed off to the labs together, and as soon as you left, Sam let out a loud groan, his face falling into his hands. “She doesn’t get it. I keep throwing hints her way but she doesn’t get it at all. I don’t understand. What exactly am I doing wrong?”

“Y/N isn’t an openly affectionate person. She rarely ever tells people how she feels. She usually conveys her emotions through killing her enemies and channeling all her energy into punching bags,” Bucky replied simply. “And the occasional Mario Kart deathmatch. She’s not very easy to read.”

“Even I had a hard time getting to her,” Wanda admitted. “She’s very...private. Prefers to keep her feelings to herself.”

“Does she even have any sort of clue?” Sam looked over at the young woman with a desperate look in his eyes. “Otherwise I’ve been humiliating myself all this time, for nothing.”

“She likes you, but she’s too afraid to admit it,” Steve suddenly spoke up. All heads turned in his direction. “It’s a thing I picked up from my ma when I was young. I can read into body language. And hers, well...she likes you, Sam. She’s just very subtle about it.”

Hope glimmered in his eyes. “She does? So she doesn’t mind my pickup lines?”

The super-soldier laughed. “As terrible as some of them may be, yeah, she doesn’t. I’ve seen her walk away flustered many times.”

“What do I do now?”

“You’re gonna win her over, once and for all,” Natasha declared. “And we’re making sure of that.”

...

“Y/N.”

“Pete.” You glanced over at the teenager, who had stopped furiously scribbling notes down in his notebook, “what’s up?”

“What’s up is you and Sam.”

“What about us?” You quirked an eyebrow. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The boy wrinkled his nose, “I know he likes you, and you like him. So why do you keep pushing him away?”

“Peter-”

“Y/N, I’ve known about this since we first met. So why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s trying his hardest to win you over and you’re refusing to budge! I bet he feels so bad about it.”

“Oh, God, I know...” you rubbed your forehead and let out a long sigh, “I just don’t know how to react.”

“Send a pickup line right back at him! He loves pickup lines, so gauge his reaction on that!”

“Alright...”

"Back to Chemistry! Which you two clearly already have...”

“Queens!”

“Okay, okay!” You both burst into laughter. “Okay!”

The team had all agreed on an outdoor barbecue, so you all gathered outside on the massive rooftop of the compound to eat dinner. Tony, Thor, Steve, and Rhodey were busy flipping the meat, Wanda and Pepper were setting up the refreshments, while the others were lounging around and casually conversing with one another. 

You noticed Sam standing alone by the edge, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared out ahead at the horizon. He seemed to be deep in thought, but as soon as he turned around and saw you approaching him, his face lit up with a grin that the others knew he only had when you were around. 

“Hey,” you offered him a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as you locked eyes - the early evening glow only made him look better than he already was. “Penny for your thoughts, Wilson?”

“Are you a magician? ‘Cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears,” he stated.

“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you,” you replied smoothly, taking him by surprise. This was a first --

“Am I dreaming, or did Y/N just send me back a cheesy pickup line?”

“I did,” you laughed lightly, breaking into what he thought was the most beautiful sight on earth - a million-dollar smile. He’d never forget it. “How’s your week been?”

“Uneventful. You?”

Your face fell momentarily, and he felt his heart drop at the same time. “Could’ve been better.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You took in a deep breath before responding. “Fury’s got me leading Team Alpha in a recon down south in the Outer Banks. Then as soon as I get back, I’m called to represent the team at a press conference about disaster relief. After that I’m stuck filing reports for a solid six hours and I end up only eating one meal that day. So yeah...it’s been pretty rough.”

“Did you make up for all that lost sleep, though?”

“A little. Compared to my typical three hours, I’d say 5 is a good enough improvement.”

“Progress is what matters. And you did that,” he nodded. “Look, if you ever need someone to talk to...you know I’m always here, right?”

“Definitely. That doesn’t eliminate our weekly Mario Kart competitions with Bucky, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

You stood there in silence for who knows how long, until he spoke up again.

“Did you know that when you smile, you can’t breathe?”

“Really?” You looked straight at him and gave him the brightest smile your face could produce. 

“I’m kidding. I just wanted to see you smile.”

At that moment, all the Avengers immediately stopped what they were doing and froze on the spot. 

“I think you broke her,” Peter whispered as he poked you in the shoulder multiple times, and you didn’t move. “That was smoother than butter.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish but no words came out, face burning with heat - the butterflies in your stomach had turned to hummingbirds. Since when did he make you feel this way?

“Yup,” Bucky coughed, “she’s definitely in love with him.”

"I’m not in love with him, I love him. I have for a while,” you muttered so quietly that he almost didn’t catch what you said. 

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be left speechless.

[allegra-writes]

The Intervention

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

General audiences

Warnings: none

The Request:

Peter and Reader hanging out at the compound. They fall asleep together and Tony finds them. They insist they are just friends but have feelings for each other, even if themselves don't know it yet.

Tony ships it.

For @sovereignparker

MY MASTERLIST

Tony Stark was at his wits end.

He, who had built the first iron man prototype in a cave, invented time travel, and pretty much single handedly defeated Thanos and his army, didn't know what to do. And it was all your fault. Well, yours and Peter's, actually.

At first it had been… kind of cute. Endearing. The way you both were so obvious yet so oblivious. You and Peter had grown really close after the blip, a little too close, in fact: Always hanging out together, watching movies or playing video games, or just doing nothing. Tony had never seen Peter spend that much time at the compound before. And he was sure you definitely didn't use to hang at the lab so much before either. 

Then had came the most noticeable signs, like you wearing Peter's hoodies and Peter sporting one of your hair ties on his wrist. Peter's ringtone for you was "Uptown girl" for fucks sake! (some stupid punk-pop cover, cause his protegee had no taste apparently).

It had all reached its zenith during that mission in Bahrain, where the enemy had managed to land a solid one on the quinjet and the whole team had been stuck on land for the night. They had been forced to pile up in this cheap hostel, all six in the same room. And there were enough beds for everybody but you and Peter had started fighting over the top bed of the bunk and it had been vicious. Until you both had agreed to share it, that was. 

Every single one of the Avengers had been convinced you guys were a couple after that, including Tony. But the thing was, Peter Parker was shit at lying. And he insisted you and him were just friends, and he did look like he was telling the truth. So Tony had started looking through the security cameras, watching hours and hours of footage of Peter and you together. Pepper had scolded him, telling him what a horrible invasion of his firstborn's privacy it was, but the thing was there was nothing private there: No making out, no pda, NOTHING. Not even pecks on cheeks or hand holding. 

So he had resigned to the fact that you and underoos were completely platonic. 

Strangely enough, he had felt… disappointed.

"That's not strange at all, Tony. You love Peter like a son. Y/n dating him would be the perfect way for him to officially become a part of this family" Damn Pepper and her way to psychoanalyze him.

"Yeah well, apparently, when I wanna do that," Pepper raised an eyebrow at his husband's use of 'when', not 'if', "I'm going to have to adopt him. Cause I have to do everything in this house!"

The redhead rolled her eyes and went back to her book, leaving Tony to his brooding, blissfully ignorant to the ideas already taking shape in the billionaire's mind. 

But for the first time in his life, nothing Tony did seemed to work. He had tried sending you notes from a secret admirer, but you knew Peter's handwriting. He had tried pairing you both at galas and balls, but you both had disappeared with Harley and that crazy socialite Kate Bishop for an impromptu shooting competition. He had even tried locking the both of you in a closet, but since the vulture guy incident Peter had developed claustrophobia and a panic attack wasn't very inducive to romance. Steve had drawn the line at sending you undercover as a couple on a fake mission. 

"He just doesn't want to lose the bet" Clint had told him. Tony was too afraid to ask.

That's why he wasn't even surprised to find the both of you, asleep together on the couch that sunday morning. Oh no, what he was, was completely fed up. He walked past you, straight into the kitchen where the rest of the team was having breakfast, like a man on a mission, standing in front of the coffee maker, capturing every one's attention. He turned around, meeting Rodhey's eye. 

"It's time"

That was all he had to say for the Avengers to leave their plates and cups where they were and stand up, following the man of iron back into the living room. They formed a semicircle in front of the couch, with Tony standing tall (or as tall as a man who was 5'7 could stand while surrounded by gods and giants and supersoldiers) and assertive in the middle. 

Peter's tingle must have sense something was amiss because the boy immediately stirred.

"Oh, hey, mister Stark" He greeted, rubbing his eyes, voice hoarse from sleep and low, obviously trying not to disturb you, "sorry, we must've fallen asleep watching the movie.."

"Cut the bullshit, kid" Tony interrupted, unsmiling and straight to business, "this is an intervention"

"Wh-what?"

"We care about you and y/n very much," Clint continued, not giving him time to react, "but we can't go on like this any longer"

"This situation is hurting all of us, especially yourself, kid" Cap took over. Whatever this thing was, they had obviously rehearsed it, "There comes a time in every boy's life when he has to stand and take responsibility of his feelings like a man"

"So this is us, giving you an ultimatum," Bruce chimed in, "either you tell y/n how you feel…"

"Or we do" Thor finished. 

What. In the everloving. Fuck? 

"Guys, we're not… it's not… I-I'm not" Peter sputtered helplessly, very aware of what a light sleeper you were and how awkward things between you could turn if you heard this conversation. You were even shier than he was, even though you hid it better, and he didn't want anything to ruin your friendship, you were too precious to him. "I am not in love with y/n!" He whisper-yelled at last.

Tony crossed his arms, turning defensive.

"Why not? Is my daughter not good enough for the amazing Spider-Man?"

"What? No- I mean yes, I mean…" Peter sighed, rubbing his face with the hand not wrapped around you, still keeping you close to his chest throughout that whole… intervention debacle, "Your daughter is brilliant, and kind and amazing, and with all do respect mister Stark, she… well, she's hot! But not like in an objectifying kind of way, more in a she's really beautiful and I'm not blind kind of way and I don't care what the press says she is perfect and any body who can't see it is either blind or an idiot. If anything, I am not enough for her, but even so, I still want to be by her side because she's… because I…" Peter's rambling came to a halt, the boys eyes opening wide in horrified realization, "... Oh my god, holly shit, I'm in love with her, aren't I?!" 

A chorus of "finally" and "duh!" and "it was about god damned time" filled the living room, as Tony repressed the urge to roll his eyes and instead smiled kindly at the teenager holding his older daughter in his arms. He used to think that the day he saw something like that he would have felt dread, or anger, or at the very least protectiveness. But he felt nothing of the sort: he felt… calmed. He knew you were in good hands. Maybe that was what was making the difference. 

He patted the boy on the shoulder,

"Glad we could have this talk, underoos. Come on, team, I feel like getting donuts for breakfast. To celebrate, you know? Let's go get the jet!"

The room got emptied as quick as it had been occupied, leaving Peter stunned, his head a whirlwind of emotions. He was in love. With his best friend. With the most perfect girl he had ever seen.

With a girl in fact so perfect, so out of his league, he might as well have been playing a different sport. 

His heart sank into his stomach, killing most of the butterflies nesting there, and severely maiming the rest. He was screwed. There was no way you would like him back, just… none. He looked down, maybe your peaceful sleeping face could bring some calm to his disturbed brain, you usually had a soothing effect on his nerves.

But your face wasn't peaceful, or sleeping. No, you were looking back at him with a thousand different emotions flickering behind those pretty doe eyes of yours.

He closed his eyes, as if that alone could deny the reality of that moment, the moment his world was sure to fall apart.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?" 

"Yeah," You murmured, voice catching slightly in your throat, "yeah I did"

"Great. Awesome" he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He didn't want to ask this, he really didn't. But he had to know the answer. "Now what?"

Frozen in place, he felt you crawl over his body, until you were nose to nose with him.

"Now? I think now… we kiss" You breathed against his lips.

His heart skipped a beat. Right before starting running, galloping wildly, like an untamed horse.

Yeah, he liked that idea...

The end.

[pink-peony-princess]

You're My Life Now

Dawn had always been Peter's favourite time of day, he couldn't tell why, but there was something so peaceful about it. A time when the world seemed less corrupt,a time when you could just be still, be one with nature.

Nothing about this day had particularly stood out to Peter, there was nothing to suggest as he got ready for his usual early morning perimeter run to suggest that anything out of the ordinary was about to take place.

He'd been doing this run, every morning for almost two years now and nothing had happened yet. As one of the famous Mendes Triplets and Beta alongside his brother Raul to their eldest brother Shawn (Alpha of the infamous Shadowmoon Pack) Peter took his responsibility extremely seriously. He'd always been the sensible one out of the three of them, or at least the most level-headed one.

Shawn was an amazing Alpha,Peter had always admired his ability to lead,his empathy his compassion, but he could also let his emotions rule him, which could cause problems sometimes. Especially if there was a disagreement between the three brothers. Raul on the other hand, was, well, Raul. Fiery, and passionate and a bit of a trouble maker, he liked to stir the pot whenever possible and unfortunately for Peter he always seemed to be the piece keeper,to stop arguments (usually caused by some snide comment that Raul would make in the heat of the moment which he always regretted later).

Whenever anyone spoke of Peter the first things they'd say was that he was extremely loyal,always ready to help and would protect his loved ones with his life. He'd been like this as long as he could remember.

As Peter stood up from tying his shoe laces,putting his glasses on, he noticed the sheeting rain outside his window. It was so heavy that it was actually hitting the window,leaving large water droplets on the once clear glass. He sighed, it wasn't that he minded the rain, it didn't make a difference to him as to whether he got wet or not,he never felt the cold as a wolf anyway. But it would make it harder, more tedious to complete the run, he'd have to pay extra attention to his surroundings,to the sights, smells and sounds.

"I'm headed on my run," Peter called to Shawn and Raul as he past the kitchen where the two of them were making coffee and talking about day ahead.

"Thanks Pete," came Shawn's reply."I'll be in the surgery with Connor later if ya need me," Pete nodded as he made his way out the front door and into the rain.

The first part of the run was pretty easy, flat ground,open, easy to see the fields that sprawled unchecked for miles ahead. He made it in good time, easily nativagsting the familiar territory with no issues.

He was halfway home when he saw object up ahead. At first he couldn't make it out, even with his wolf-enhanced eyesight the sheeting rain was obscuring his view.As he made his way slowly closer,mindful that it might be some sort of a trap from the rogue wolves that were constantly trying to ambush their lands,he spotted the fabric.It was slightly covered by the truck of a tree, only half visible, but Pete was sure, it was definitely fabric from a tee-shirt.

It wasn't uncommon to find old clothes in random places around the lands, wolves would hide them in convenient spots so when they phased back to their human form they were able to dress themselves without hassle. Even Peter did it. But something about the way the shirt was sitting, haphazardly, carelessly, on the ground caught and held Peter's attention. Something told him it wasn't right.

As he made his way slowly closer the wind changed and he was hit with scent, overpowering his senses,causing him to falter momentarily.

It was the sweetest most intoxicating scent he'd ever smelt, like Rosewater and Ivy perfectly blended together. He took his glasses off pocketing them in the hope that not having the rain-covered glass in front of his eyes might allow him to see better.

As he stepped closer still, the clothing moved Peter stilled,watching waiting,a few seconds later it moved again,rolling over. It was then that Peter realised with horror, that this was not just an old disguarded set of clothing,this was a person, and a hybrid wolf at that, half human, half wolf he realised when another gust of wind sent a stronger wave of scent towards him.

He rushed forward no longer fearing an attack, only concerned for the welfare of this person. As he rounded the tree he got his first proper look at the person. It was a young girl. She looked to be about Peter's age. The first thing that struck Peter was not her bedraggled appearance- the way her dirty blonde hair hung around her face, sticking to her forehead and cheeks,not the mud that was caked into almost every part of her, not even the slashed in her faded green sweater that had obviously been made by wolves claws or the blood that was seeping out from the large wound beneath it and the several other cuts and bruises that peppered her small fragile body. No. The first thing that Peter registered was the look of fear, of terror as the girl made eye contact with him.

"D-dont come near me," the girl stuttered, a mixture of cold and fear Peter was sure.

He held his hands up in surrender, "Please don't be scared," he spoke softly, voice almost drowned out by the rain as he made his way closer still, now less than a foot away from the girl- young woman really.

Up close Peter could see the way her mascara was running from her eyelashes,leaving small black smudges under her red bloodshot eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, I only want to help,I promise. My name is Peter."

She looked at him for a moment, seeming to weigh up what he was saying. "But you're a wolf," she pointed out. She was perceptive, Peter thought.

"Yes, I am," he admitted, watching as her eyebrows knitted together with fear again.

"And the other wolves hurt me," she chocked on a sob, looking away from him.

Peter reached out, placing a finger on her jaw, gently turning her head to look at him again. As soon as he made contact his whole hand began to tingle,and he felt the butterflies that so many other wolves had spoken of so fondly."Mate," he heard his wolf Timbre purr protectively from inside his head. He felt dizzy, slightly intoxicated now and had to shake his head a few times to clear his mind, to keep himself on the task at hand. If he didn't do something soon, he would have no mate to protect.

"But these are my lands- my pack's lands,my older brother Shawn is the Alpha, when he hears about what happend he'll send out a group to go out and deal with them. I promise you you're safe with me, with us," he was almost pleading with her by the end, but he didn't know what else to do.

"Just, please let me get you some help," he added,feeling the sting of tears in his eyes as the thought of what would happen if she didn't go with him ran through his head over and over again.

"How?" she asked. Looking up at Peter with wide eyes. Her eyes were so blue,it was like getting lost in the ocean.

"My brother,Shawn, when he's not working as the Alpha, he's a doctor, he'll be able to help you. I'll take you to him.I promise you'll be safe.

She nodded, water flying off her face, still not seeming entirely convinced, but she relaxed a little, her shoulders loosening just a little,as she reached for Peter's hand, surprising him. He took it feeling the tingles again, more than happy to have any contact with her that she'd allow. He wasn't sure if she was ignoring the feeling or simply in too much pain to notice, either way she said nothing.

"What's your name?" he asked, not breaking eye contact.

"J-Josie," she answered clearly still apprehensive. She watched his every move.

"Okay, it's nice to meet you Josie. Can you show me where you're injuried? I don't want to cause you anymore pain when I lift you," he asked, "apart from the gash on your stomach?"

"My back hurts," she told him, and my head. I feel kinda dizzy," she added, almost as an after thought. Peter didn't know much about medicine, bit what he did know was that it usually wasn't good when someone said their head hurt and they were dizzy. He knew he needed to get her home,out of the rain, to Shawn. They'd only been talking 5 minutes, but already she looked more pale, and slightly drowsy. He had trouble hiding his panic as he spoke again.

"Can I see?" she nodded, so he let go of her hand reluctantly and made his way around so he was behind her, slowly peeling back the layers of fabric to reveal a large oozing gash that ran from her left shoulder to the small of her back. She let out a whimper as the air and rain but it, making Peter's heart squeeze. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt his mate, when one mate hurt the other hurt."I'm so sorry," he apologised when she sniffled.

"Alright,let's get you inside," he murmured, coming back around and squatting so he was in front of her, automatically holding his hand out for her to take again. He could see how tired and scared she was and his heart literally ached."I know you hardly know me, but I think the quickest way to do this will be if I carry you, will you allow me to do that?" he asked softly, patiently waiting for a response.

She nodded again, and he wasted no time in carefully picking her up, trying his best to avoid her injuries.

That didn't stop her from letting out a scream.

"I know, I'm so so sorry," he whispered trying to console her.

She didn't say anything, instead curling into his body further, head resting softly on his shoulder. Peter couldn't help the small smile that pulled at his lips as he thought about the fact that she was already seeming to seek his comfort, his warmth. This was what he'd dreamt of since the day he turned 18 and was old enough to have a mate.

He ran as fast as he could, trying to be careful not to move her too much, and to shelter her from the pouring rain. He knew that if he'd shifted he would have been quicker making it back to the house, but she was terrified, and clearly in no way to be holding onto his back as he ran, somewhere along the way she past out, head rolling unsupported as he ran, making Pete panic more.

After what felt like an age, the house came into site, spurring him on to run harder. He sprinted the last 20 metres,and up the front porch stairs, banging on the door to get someone, anyone's attention. Finally, Connor came to the door.

"The door was open, why didn't you just-" he stopped taking in the unconscious young woman in his arms. "Holy crap," he whistled. "Where'd you find her?" he asked as Peter pushed through the doorway forcing Connor to step sideway to avoid being hit.

"Down by the south border," he answered moving further into the house. "She needs medical attention is Shawn still in the surgery?" he asked as he went to go up the first flight of stairs.

"Here, let me take her, you can get changed and meet us up there," he offered, holding his arms out for him to hand Josie over.

Peter immediately recoiled, baring his teeth,a soft growl eminating from his throat.

Connor stepped back a look of deep shock and confusion on his face. "Peter what the?" he started before he connected the dots, a large smile wiping the look of confusion from his features."Pete, did you, is she?" he asked tripping over his words.

Peter nodded,"But she's a hybrid Con, so we need to get her upstairs," he spoke, wasting no time waiting for his reply. Connor rushed past him so he could open the door to the surgery. The familiar smell of disinfectant hit Peter's nose as they walked in.

"Shawn, we need you right now," Connor called out, as they rushed through the front area and into one of the many consultation rooms.

Peter could hear Shawn making his way through the surgery as he placed Josie down carefully on the table, immediately missing the contact.

"What have we got?" Shawn asked, walking through the door, before stopped short as Connor had minutes before. "Pete, where'd you find her?" he asked grabbing a pair of gloves from the dispenser on the wall and making his way over to the bed. "She's got some nasty injuries," Shawn muttered as he surveyed Josie's body. He went to move her shirt away from her stomach, an automatic response,to make a better judgement, but Peter felt an immense feeling of protectiveness wash over him again at another male, even his brother,who was trying to help, touching his mate.

He couldn't help the growl that slipped out as Shawn pulled back the fabric exposing her stomach and the nasty gash which Josie had shown Peter in the field.

"What's your problem Peter," Shawn laughed, turning to him, "I'm doing my job little bro,"

"You're touching her, you'll hurt her," he snarled very unlike himself. He knew logically that what he was saying wasn't true, but he couldn't help it.

"Peter, as if I'm going to hurt her, I'm literally trying to do the opposite," he stopped watching the way Peter's gaze never left Josie and something clicked. "Peter is she your mate?" he asked beaming.

"Yeah," Pete chocked on the word.

"Congratulations man," Shawn smiled again. "It's a big step finding your mate, what's her name?" he spoke knowingly. He'd found his mate Ava two years earlier,and Raul a year ago with Mia. They were both always so happy, so settled and finally Peter could have that too.

"Thanks Shawn,Josie, how, how bad is she?" he asked, almost wishing Shawn wouldn't answer.

"Well, from what I've seen so far, not great if I'm being honest, she's lost a lot of blood and the gashes on her stomach and shoulder look like they're getting infected, and if I'm being truthful I don't like the fact that she's not conscious. But I need to have a closer look. Will you trust me?" he asked.

Peter sat for a minute taking in what his brother had said," Can I hold her hand?" he asked embarrassed, cheeks heating up.

Shawn looked at him knowingly," Of course mate, here, sit on this. It'll actually be good. Having contact with you will help to keep her calm," he agreed, pushing a rolling chair with his foot for Pete to sit on."Where'd you find her, what happened?" he asked as he went to a cupboard and pulled a thick blanket out. Normally the wolves didn't need them, but they were kept on hand for the youngsters as a comfort tactic."She's freezing, borderline hyperthermic," he added as he took her temperature gently, Peter watching his every move as he then carefully lay the blanket over her.

"By the south border, I didn't realise it was her at first, I thought someone had left a pile of clothes," Peter admitted feeling guilty,"but when I got closer I saw that it was her and then her scent hit me and I knew. She was pretty reluctant to trust me at first," he added,"Shawn, she said wolves did it."

Shawn shook his head, as he went about hooking her up to different monitors,getting an I.V. with antibiotics in, listening to her chest and checking her pupils with a penlight. "We've had a problem with rogues recently, I'm so sorry Peter, I'll get a party together to deal with them," he added as Peter expected. "Connor," he called out, and it was only then that Peter realised that he'd left the room.

"Yeah?"

"Get Raul up here, I need to talk to him about the rogue problem," he was angry, Shawn was passionately against rogues and what they stood for and everyone knew it.

"I'm going to have to try and wake her up buddy, I need to know what sort of head injury we're dealing with."

Peter nodded, watching as Shawn placed a hand on her sternum and rubbed. He couldn't help the growl that once again slipped his lips. "I'm sorry mate, I wouldn't be doing it unless I had to," he looked genuinely apologetic.

A small whine left Josie's lips, and Peter was on his feet in a matter of seconds looking down at his mate anxiously.

"Josie, can you hear me, if you can hear me, give Peter's hand a squeeze."

Peter nodded, feeling his heart swell with relief as he felt her do as asked.

She opened her eyes, slowly taking everything in, before a panic set in and she tried to sit up."Hey, hey, take it easy," Pete, comforted, gently stopping her from sitting up and hurting herself further.

"You're safe here,do you remember me, I'm Peter?" he asked. She looked up at him with wide frantic eyes before recognition crossed her face and she relaxed into his grip.

"This is Shawn, my brother, he's the one I was telling you about," he added when she looked over warily at Shawn. "He's going to fix you up okay."

"It's nice to meet you Josie," Shawn smiled kindly at the young woman."How are you feeling?"

"Tired, sore,can I have some water?" she asked, voice strained.

"Of course," Shawn grabbed a disposable cup and filled it with water from the tap,holding it out to her.

Shawn went about checking her over,happily reporting that she only had a minor concussion, before numbing her up and carefully sewing her wounds closed. The whole time she clung to Peter like her life depended on it, but he didn't mind. He was happy to be able to provide the comfort.

There was a knock at the door and Raul walked in, not waiting for a response, only stopping as Shawn had at the sight of Josie.

"Who,what?" he looked between the three of them confused.

"This is Josie, she's Peter's mate," Shawn put emphasis on the word. "She was attacked by rogues and I need you to go out and find them, deal with them, do what you have to," Shawn spoke, not saying what both Peter and Raul knew he meant. End them.

Raul nodded, turning for the door, "Congrats little bro, best thing that'll ever happen to you," he smiled before leaving the room.

"Congratulations?" Josie asked looking up at him. Peter sighed, he hadn't wanted to tell her like this, he'd wanted to wait but he also didn't want to lie to her. He looked at Shawn who nodded."Josie,when we were in the field, did you feel anything when I touched your hand, a tingling?" he prompted.

Her eyebrows knit together, before she spoke,"Y-yeah?"

He took her hand again, "You're my mate Josie," he spoke carefully, waiting with baited breath for her response.

She was quiet for a moment, before a soft smile graced her features. Peter thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"I am?" she asked, teary,surprising both the men.

"Please don't cry," Peter spoke quicky. "I promise you, I'll look after you with my life."

She shook her head,"It's not like that,my dad was a wolf, that's how I knew you were a wolf when we met in the clearing. I'm happy," she laughed, leaning into Peter's chest a little more.

Shawn beamed as he took in the cute sight before him,"You're okay for now, I'll leave you two alone," he spoke before excusing himself.

They sat in silence for a while, just happy to be in each other's company, still getting used to the feel of one another, the smell, the presence.

"Thank you," she whispered, eyes half open as she lay abck on Peter's chest.

"For what?" Peter murmured.

"For saving me."

"No Josie, thank you, you saved me," he countered, gently running his hands through her now only damp hair, causing her to shiver. "You are my life now."

[oh-so-scenarios]

ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs...♠| 08

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Aɴɢsᴛ, sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ,

A/N: Unedited. This is kind of a filler chapter. Finally entering Phase 2 of this story. Lol yall don’t know what that means, but my goodness did it take a while. Please ignore any typos!

(Word Count: 6.1K)

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Y/N:

He hates me. I know it. I crossed the line. That’s probably what I did. I kissed him on the cheek? I confessed my feelings and probably made him even more uncomfortable? Way to go Y/n! Way to go!

It’s been 7 days since the Charity Gala, and while things were buzzing in the news about the transportation company that was being sued for the “loss” of the real artworks, Hoseok has been ignoring me like the plague. Or so I think.

Jennie and I are at the headquarters as much as we are at the hospital and in each visit, and I haven’t seen Hoseok once. No one said anything about him, or where he might be, so I can only assume I angered him. My heart feels...crushed? I thought there was a warm moment, a real moment somewhere in that night of fake hugs and smiles. 

It must have been the alcohol getting to my head, thinking that something was...beginning. It was silent as Jennie and I cleaned up the operating area, the patient still not woken as he rested in the recovery bed.

This is 3rd surgery Jennie and I have performed for the black market. I seem to be the only uncomfortable, seeing as Jennie hums calmly while stripping the dirty gloves off her hands and slipping off the disposable plastic apron to reveal the dark blue scrubs that I also wore. I copied her motions, slipping my gloves off and throwing the apron into the trash bin. 

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on my hips. After the patient was awake and well enough to leave, we’ll have to come back and clean the area better.

I looked over at Jennie who stared back at me with a knowing look, “Jungkook said he was buying fried chicken for everyone.” She spoke softly, glancing towards the knocked-out patient. I wordlessly walked past her to the sink, washing my hands with soap and drying them off. 

I moved to the side, giving her the space to do the same. Her hair was pulled up into a high bun, and though I nagged her about that being inappropriate for surgery, she looked like a chich college student. 

I stood by the sink waiting for her while she hummed to herself. She’s been very happy lately. It’s because of Jaehyun. He makes her happy, and the love radiating from her was depressing. She cheered me on, telling me that the kiss on the cheek was a brave move. It was a great move! I was being assertive! 

But why do I feel like shit? Not a single text, not a call or even an order passed down to Jungkook. Hoseok is missing in action, and no one wants to admit it. If he didn’t hate me before, he hates me now.

We walked out of the room and out the lobby area, finding a chaotic scene. Six men seated around the large round table, fussing and bickering with boxes of fried chicken sat between them. I snickered at the scene, watching Jin stood from his seat to yell at Taehyung.

“You said you didn’t like Lemon pepper! Why are they over on your side!” His voice echoed through the place, while his eyes widen. He shook his head vigorously and his face turned a bright red. Giggles emerged in the room as Taehyung pushed the basket of chicken across the table.

I quietly walked up to a seat beside Namjoon who showed me a kind smile. 

“Done with the surgery already?” Jimin chimes. I nod, glancing over the different types of chicken. Jennie sits about 3 seats away from me, digging into the food right away. Namjoon pushes a basket of some wings, silently offering it to me.

 “Is Hoseok avoiding me?” I asked softly, I was hoping they wouldn’t hear me. That the loud smacking of lips as they ate would drown out my words, but everyone stopped to look at me. Yoongi’s brows furrowed and he looked towards the others as if they had the answer. 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked from beside me. I sighed, leaning forward, looking over the wings once more. 

“I haven’t seen him since the gala, and he’s not ordering me around like he usually does…” I trail off as I realize I sound like a whining child.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at me, chewing the last of the food in his mouth before speaking.

“Boss traveled Y/n, I thought you knew,” Jungkook said a matter of a fact. My mouth made a small O shape, embarrassment consuming my whole body.

“He traveled?” I questioned, looking to Jin who was nodding slowly.

“He left 2 days after the gala, he has some business in Japan. I told him to tell you, but I guess he didn’t.” Jungkook adds with his eyes focused on the wing in his hands. His gaze flickered up to me knowingly. 

Jungkook hasn’t asked me what we were arguing about at the gala when he interrupted, the ride home is silent, while I sniffled and wiped my tears. I can’t be certain why I was crying. Maybe it was because he thought so little of my feelings? Or he found it so hard to believe that someone could like him?

“Why would Boss avoid you?” Namjoon asked, before pointing at the wings he set in front of me. It was silent order to start eating or he was going to take them for himself. 

I reached forward and grabbed one wing, twisting it around with my fingers. I can’t be sure what the flavor is, but that didn’t matter right now. The room grew quiet, some chewing and shuffling containers being all that’s heard. 

I sighed, “I kissed him--” 

“You kissed boss?!” Jungkook exclaims in...excitement? 

“--On the cheek!” I add quickly, not wanting him to jump to conclusions. 

“Wow noona” Jungkook said with his wide eyes gleaming, “and what did he do?

I shrugged, “Nothing. He didn’t say or do anything.” I took a bite of the wing, looking up to see all the guys at the table smiling slightly.

“So what were you so worried about?” Taehyung voices as he reaches for a napkin to clean his mouth. 

“I thought I crossed the line? I didn’t want to anger him or come on too strong.” I was hesitant to say anymore. I only really talk to Jungkook. This is the first time I’m really having a conversation with anyone. Other than Yoongi of course. I didn’t feel uncomfortable though. 

The older guys, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi, weren’t strangers; but they certainly weren’t close friends. They work the closest with Hoseok, so I don't see them as often as I do Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. They do the more of the details for Hoseok. They aren’t as eager to share as the younger guys.

“Hoseok will only protest never encourage.” When Seokjin says it like he’s solved the case, my brows furrow. I’m not following. 

After meeting my unclear facial expression, he sighed and leaned back in his seat. 

“He didn’t say anything, so he didn’t hate it. If he didn’t like it, he’d let you know for sure.”

“That’s just how Hoseok is.” Yoongi adds simply, “And if you are so curious to what he’s up to, just call him.”

“Call him?” 

“Duh. If you’re bothering him, he won’t even pick up. You’ve already gone ahead to do something bold like kissing him, you can’t get bashful now.” Yoongi starts to work on another wing, taking a big bite before reaching for the open water bottle on the table. He pushes his hair back, despite the thick headband that was already feeding that purpose. 

Jennie hadn’t spoken this whole time, too busy stuffing her face with wings. I kept eating while she wiped her mouth with her arm, my eyes widening at the uncharacteristic behavior. Jaehyun is rubbing off on her and that’s clear. Jennie used to be ...stiff. A bit stuck up but not enough to come off as a bitch. 

She had high standards and expected only the finer things, yet she would also go with the flow of things, not wanting on the chance to experience something she could later brag about. Since meeting Jaehyun, she has loosened up in terms of the proper chip that was on her shoulder.

“I say,” She takes a sip of water, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her water to take. 

She repeats herself, “I say you keep on with what you’re doing. Be forward. You have to be with a laid back guy like Hoseok. Call him, holding his hand, kiss his cheek and all that. If he says he doesn’t like it, stop.”

Taehyung claps his hands together, “We won’t say anything about it and act oblivious! Just do what feels right and we’ll act like it’s nothing new!” 

Taehyung pumps his fight up into the air, the whole action being something you’d expect if he was drunk.

“Operation ‘help Boss understand Y/n’s feelings’ is a go!” 

“He understands,” I mumble, “I told him that I liked that despite his lifestyle.” 

Taehyung shook his head, “No Y/n...we need him to understand!” He deepened his voice on the word ‘understand’.

“Hyung is very smart, but he’s also...dense when it comes to things like this. For him to understand, he needs to see actions. Once he feels like he’s got a handle on the situation, he’ll possibly respond or make a move.”

 I chuckled, “You really know Hoseok really well.”

Taehyung kisses his teeth, “I’ve been studying the mystery that is Jung Hoseok for 8 years now.”

 ~!~

It sounded so easy when the others were talking about it. Call him. Don’t text him, but call him. But now that I am lying on my bed, the butterflies in my stomach were overwhelming. I look at the clock on my wall to see that it’s nearing 10pm, I’m sure he’s awake. 

I grabbed my phone, scrolling and finding his contract. I pressed his name and watched the screen change as the number dialed. I placed the phone on speaker, staring up at the ceiling while I waited, hoping to hear his voice.

A few more rings later, and it went to voicemail. I sighed, hanging up before it could start recording. Of course, he’s busy. According to Namjoon, Hoseok is going for his actual investment work. One day I’ll get Hoseok to tell me more about his investment company. It’s thriving and doing well. 

I turned onto my side, sleep suddenly growing heavy on my eyes. It’s been a long day and I was finally feeling the tiring work of the day while my body relaxed and went slack against my bed and pillow. 

I don’t remember how long my eyes were closed before I felt a buzzing vibrating the bed. My eyes fluttered open, and though my vision was blurry, I could make out the caller ID. 

I grabbed my phone quickly, swiping to answer and hitting the speaker button. I set it down on my bed, staring at the black screen while soft breathing sounded through the iPhone speaker.

“Doc.” He said quietly. He sounded bored, with no sense of urgency or sleepiness. I looked at the clock again. It is 11:34pm. 

“Hi.” I croaked, eyes widen at my own voice. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could.

“I woke you up.” He said, almost sounding sorry. 

I shook my head slowly as if he could see me lying there in my bed, with my hair a mess and my baggy T-shirt and shorts. 

“I don’t mind. I don’t work tomorrow.” I answered. There a beat of silence, and I can hear cars zooming in the background.

“You called me?” He sounded annoyed, not because I called, but the fact that I wasn’t speaking. 

“Yeah,” I replied softly, “I didn’t realize you traveled.”

“I guess I didn’t tell you, it was sort of last minute. I had to handle some business.” He replied. 

“Oh, I see.” I pause for a moment, “I hope I’m not bothering you when you’re busy.” I rush out that last bit, my nerves getting to me. 

“No, you’re not.” 

“Ok, cool. Umm...how much longer are you staying in Japan?” My desperate attempts at preventing an awkward silence.

“Why?” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Do you miss me?” He chuckles soon after, showing that he was teasing. I bit on my bottom lip nervously as he laughed. I gripped my bedsheets in on hand and closed my eyes, thinking of how I should be bold. Without opening my eyes I spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I miss you a lot.” Hearing the words leave my lips caused my skin to tingle. My eyes remain closed while I listen to Hoseok on the other line. His laughter dies down and I heard a slight shuffle. He doesn’t speak for a short time, leaving me in my dread and fear.  

“I’ll be back in 4 days,” His teasing tone was no more, he spoke simply and plainly. My shoulders drop in relief. He’s ignoring my statement, which I regret even saying so him ignoring it is for the best. I heard more shuffling and what sounded like a car door closing.

My eyes stay closed as I speak again.

“Good,” My voice is light, sleepiness taking hold of me again. I yawned lightly, and we sit in silence for a little while.

“Go to bed, Y/n.” Sounding like he was ordering a child. But I was too tired to say something smart. 

“Good night Hoseok, sorry for bothering you,” I muttered. 

He takes in a deep breath, sounding like he made up his mind on something, “Y/n?”

I hum in reply, irritation rising as he was keeping me from falling asleep.

“Whenever you start missing me, just call me.” He said the words casually, but he spoke quietly this time. My eyes snapped open in surprise. He cleared his throat, showing discomfort with his own words. He’s nervous?  I looked at my phone in time to see the screen flash to black as he hung up the phone without a goodbye. 

What...did...he--

He said to call him whenever I start missing him? I laid there with my eyes wide and my mind empty. My heart racing to the point of my vision vibrating as I stared blankly at the wall opposite of me.

The conversation was short, awkward and almost forced but...it wasn’t awful. I would like to think that he enjoyed our conversation. He also didn’t say anything about the kiss or the gala. But it was nice to have a small normal chat. 

Whenever you start missing me, just call me. 

My lips turned up into a shy smile, “He’s too cute.” I say to no one in particular.

To say, nothing had changed...wrong. But to say things had changed would also be wrong. Hoseok hasn’t brought up the gala, the kiss or even the investigation being conducted on the small delivering company that is being accused of swapping the real art with fake art.

Hoseok wasn’t really attempting to make conversation, but he wouldn’t suggest hanging up whenever we sat in silence. He comes back from Japan tomorrow, but I’ve called him 2 more times in the past 3 days. Usually later at night, when he is on his way back to the hotel. Calling him the second time was harder than calling the first time. 

Whenever you start missing me, just call me. What was that? Where did that come from? He doesn’t make mention of it again, and neither do I. But it feels like his words loomed over us with every conversation we had. Like he wanted to say something about it but was waiting for me to bring it up. 

I stared up at the ceiling as I heard the shuffling of bedsheets and blankets. Unlike the other times I called, Hoseok was actually in his hotel bed this time. Since our conversations were barely conversations. I’d ask him how his day was, I’d get a one-word answer followed by me desperately trying to keep the flow of things going. I wanted to try and dig deeper. If he doesn’t want to tell me. He won’t. 

“Hoseok?” My voice sounds quiet and lacks confidence. When he replies he sounds distracted and I can faintly hear his fingers tapping away at his phone screen.

“Yeah?” He sounds distracted.

“So you took over for your father when you were 16?” I asked timidly, a slight tremble in my voice. I heard another shuffle, with a small sigh following after.

“Yeah,” He answered, “No big deal.” 

He was trying to brush it off, but I wasn’t going to move on that quickly.

“It must have been scary...dealing with the death of your father, but also being ushered into such a big role.”

“I don’t want your pity.” He hissed. My heart dropped a bit, feeling the peaceful chat turning dour. 

“I’m not pitying you, I just imagine it must have been hard.”

“I managed, I had the guys to help me out. I did what was expected of me and I turned out fine.” 

I opened my mouth to reply but he kept speaking, so I sat and listened.

“My dad was sick, and I knew what was coming so I was ready for it. I prepared and was able to move forward.” 

“How do you prepare for something like that? Taking such a big role I mean.”

He groans, “I don’t know. I just stopped hanging out with friends, I stopped my hobbies and things like that. My relationship with the guys also changed. It was...rough.”

My eyes perked up, “You knew the guys before?” 

Hoseok lets out a humorless chuckle, a bitterness underlying the action. 

“They were my best friends before I became their boss.” He sounded sad, and I felt sad as well. There was a longing in his voice. How much as his relationship with the boys changed? They seem...close, right? I wouldn’t exactly call their relationship the typical friendship, but I wouldn’t say it’s lacking. 

Before I respond, ready to reassure Hoseok, a thought enters my mind. I don’t know what their friendship was before, and how or why did the guys agree to do such work for Hoseok? Were they already aware of Hoseok’s father and the lifestyle he had? 

“They’re still your best friends now.” I inject, wondering why he was speaking in the past tense. 

He scoffs, “Nah, I wouldn’t agree.”

“Why?” 

“They just work for me at this point, I doubt they like me anymore.” The statement sounded so insecure. My brows furrowed and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The flashbacks to Taehyung’s cheeky smile as he spoke about Hoseok were battling the words I just heard.

“What?” I shake my head, “What would make you think that? Has the boss, employee overshadowed the friendship? Is that what you think?” 

He doesn’t respond, leaving me with his calm breathing as a sign of his distress.

“I don’t think it’s that way at all Hoseok! If you feel that way, I think you should talk to them about it.” 

When he still refuses to speak, my heart grows heavier. Does he go around just thinking everyone holds some sort of animosity, does he? The conversation at the gala makes sense, and a light bulb flickers on above my head.

Do you really like me? 

“Why are you so keen on having everyone detest you?” My tone comes out a bit rougher than I intended, but it doesn’t seem like he noticed.

“My line of work doesn’t really let me be a people person.”

“But that’s work, isn’t it? There’s a time where you gotta shut the work mindset off...right?”

Another beat of silence, my own breathing sounding louder than Hoseok’s. Another shuffle from his end and a grunt. I’m guessing he was changing his position on the bed. 

“Go to sleep, doc. You’ll see me tomorrow.” That’s all he said and the line disconnected. He hung up. 

Once again I’m left lying in my bed with my thumping heart and my thoughts. What a ball of secrets Jung Hoseok is. Just what is going on in that head and heart of his?

~!~

“We did the best we could,” I said to Jennie as we walked down the hospital hallway. We trailed behind Dr. Lee who was looking down at his clipboard. Our heels click against the tile floor, as we zoom towards room 323. We were on our way to check on a patient who just woke from a surgery we performed the day before. 

We already knew this was going to be a rough one. A terrible car accident has left a couple in a sad state. The wife, an older woman in her early 50’s had damage to her legs, leaving her partially paralyzed. Only temporarily. With proper physical therapy, Ms. Cho will be able to walk again.

As for Mr. Cho, he is stuck in a sleep-like-state. A coma, one could say, however it is believed that he can hear his surroundings. Though we did surgery to stop the internal bleeding, the seriousness of his injuries can’t be known until he awake. 

I glanced at my outfit, the yellow dress seeming too bright for the depressing atmosphere we were going to enter. However, the yellow dress was significant to my mood. The happy butterflies floating around my stomach were clouding my focus. 

It was a dress Jennie gifted me a few months back, and it sat in my closet collecting dust. The dress stopped right at my knees, it’s shaping being form-fitting with being skin tight. The hem of the skirt ruffled out, giving it a spring vibe. The whole dress was covered in white polka dots, less than you would regularly see for the pattern. The v neck wasn’t deep enough to be inappropriate, and the sort sleeves also had the same ruffle as the skirt hem. My white heels complimented the whole look.

When I strolled into work today, Jennie was sipping her coffee, only to have her eyes widen as she choked. 

“Wow,” She breathed, “You look hot!” I cringed, gesturing my hands for her to bring her voice down. She was being too loud. A few nurses turned their eyes, raising their eyebrows. 

“Mr. Jung must be returning today,” one of the nurses at the help desk muttered loudly, “I heard he hasn’t been at any board meetings because he traveled.” I turned my head towards the voice to meet a teasing set of eyes. 

I stared at her and she shrugged, “Am I wrong?” She giggled looking me up and down. The other nurses giggled along with her. 

“It is that obvious?” I whispered to Jennie. She took another sip from her Starbucks cup before she gave me a thorough once over. She takes a look at my outfit, a cheesy smile pulling at her lips while her eyes moved up to my face.

“Oh hell yeah.” She chimes. I grunt, covering my face with both hands.

“He’s going to think I’m such a try-hard.” I groaned then adjusted my white doctor’s coat to try to cover the dress more.

Jennie bites her lip, the red lipstick that painted them not smudging one bit. She brought her coffee cup up to her lips as if to take a sip. She raised her shoulders and turned her body to the side as if she was hiding something from me with her body.

“Y/n, I’d be more worried that you’d make him hard.” She whispers just loud enough for me to hear. My face heats up and a coy expression grazes my face.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so!” She exclaimed, winking at me.

We stood there waiting for Mr. Lee to arrive. He told us to meet him here at noon, and it’s already 12:23. The longer we stood there talking, the more I noticed glances my way from patients and fellow workers. 

“Is the dress inappropriate for work?” My face scrunches up and my insecure questions slip from my lips.

“No, not at all. You’re just giving off different vibes than usual. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you look good.” 

Before I could reply, Jennie spoke again, “You talked to him on the phone yesterday?” 

“Yup,” I said popping the p, “The conversation gets...better. It was very weird at first but it’s smoother now. You can tell he doesn’t usually do that kind of thing.” 

Jennie nodded in an approving manner, “That’s sweet.” She smiled and took another long sip of her coffee from tossing the empty cup into the nearby trash can. She turned back around just as Dr. Lee rounded the corner. 

“Took him long enough,” Jennie said under her breath. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, giving me a better look of her outfit. She wore a simple black turtleneck, the fabric looking too thin to protect from any cold, and a sage green skirt that was shorter than my dress with black heels. Her red lipstick popped and her slicked-back ponytail with the side part made her look so slick.

Jennie takes more risks with her outfits than I do. She dances right on the line of a provocative and voguish. No wonder this amazing dress I’m wearing is something she bought me. My hair was down today, Jennie telling me that pulled the outfit together more.

“Sorry for being late ladies. I-” Dr. Lee’s voice catches in his throat as he looked up from his clipboard. He gawked at me, blinking his eyes repeatedly and racking his eyes down my body. He snaps out of his trance not a second later, looking back to my face and shamelessly smiling at me.

“Dr. L/n, you are...breath-taking.” He said honestly. 

I roll my eyes, “Thank you, Dr. Lee.” 

“Let me take you out to dinner.” 

I falsely give it some thought, “Mh, sure! I’ll be sure to bring Mr. Jung along.” 

His smile drops at the mention of Hoseok, but the flirty nature in his eyes doesn’t change.

“Well, I’ll always be here.” He said with a wink, looking down at his clipboard again.

“And that’s unfortunate.” Jennie jeered back.

And that’s how we ended up where we are now, marching down the hallway to deliver not so good news to an older lady. By the time we reached the door of room 323, yelling could be heard. A thin and harsh voice was shouting while the calm voice of a nurse battled on.

Dr. Lee opened the door and all the noise stopped.

“Ms. Cho.” Dr. Lee said as he stepped in and we followed.

“Where is my husband?!” She shouts. 

Dr. Lee sighs, “Please Ms. Cho, give us some time to help you understand what is going on.” 

After she yells on for a few more minutes, Dr. Lee manages to calm her down. Her chest rises and falls intensely as lays back in her hospital bed. Her brows were furrowed and she glowered at us. Her gaze shifted between the 3 of us. Dr. Lee is going to do most of the talking, and we were just here to give the details of the surgery and the results.

Jennie and I took some time to explain to Ms. Cho the results of her surgery along with the condition of her legs. We had to pause for a moment as she cried. I made sure to give her a tissue and tried my best to comfort her. After we finished updating her on her condition, came the hard news of her husband.

There is no easy way to break news like that. And it’s always hard to see how people handle news like this. One of the nurses rubbed her back as she sobbed. Her black hair falling into her face.

We were in there for quite some time, setting up her physical therapy appointments. Jennie was discussing with Dr. Lee while I spoke to the nurse regarding the changes to Ms. Cho’s care.

“Young lady,” Ms. Cho suddenly says to me, sniffling in the process. I look over at her, showing a small smile.

“I know you have many patients to take care of, and you probably hear this a lot. But...my husband is my everything. Please do whatever you can to save him. Money isn’t an issue.” It’s hard to believe this soft-spoken woman was the same angry voice shouting earlier.

Her bloodshot eyes were tired and sad, but in general, she looked young for her age. Her skin lacked wrinkles or any significant sign of aging. 

I smiled at her, “Of course Ms. Cho, we will do our best.”

A small smile pulls at the corner of her lips and I watch her eyes move to my white coat, “Dr. L/n?” She reads my name.

I smile, “Yup, that’s me. Y/n L/n.” 

“A lovely name for a lovely girl.” She says softly. 

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I must say you’re also very beautiful.” 

She laughs slightly, having it fade off into a sigh, “My beauty is all I have at this point.” 

She throws a gentle punch at her legs, “These things are useless.” She mutters. 

“Ms. Cho, you won’t be in a wheelchair forever, we can promise you that,” I assured her.

She looks towards Dr. Lee and back at me, “Is that guy any good? His rehearsed smile and strong cologne are throwing me off.” 

I cough to hide my laughter while the nurse closes to me giggles with her hand covering her mouth.

“Dr. Lee is one of the finest doctors I know, he won’t lead you astray. His smile may be a practice, but if there’s one thing that is genuine, it’s his love for helping others.” She nods like my words put her doubts to rest.

“Thank you Dr. L/n, and I apologize for yelling at you earlier. That isn’t like me.” She looks down shyly, clearly embarrassed by her previous behavior.

“Don’t worry about it Mrs. Cho, I would have reacted the same way. You just went through a very disorienting series of events. I wouldn’t expect you to be poised.”

She smiles but soon gasps as if forgetting something. 

“And the other driver? How is he?”

While I explained the conditions of the other driver, who also had serious injuries, Jennie and Dr. Lee came back from the corner of the room they were standing in.

“Mrs. Cho, you’ll be staying with us here at Seoul Sky Hospital for some time and we’re happy to have you. We will do whatever we can to give you a steady recovery; we will also work to look after your husband.” She nods, showing a strained smile. After a few more words, we start to shuffle out of the room. I am the last to leave, giving her a small smile.

~!~

I’m sitting in the passenger's seat of the car while Jennie sits in the back with her arms stretched up across the seat. Her back leans against the door while her eyes are closed. Jungkook is driving yelling at Jin who is on speakerphone.

“Boss agreed to buy dinner, and you wanna eat chicken...again? Let’s get noodles!” Jungkook whines. I giggled as he pouts.

“Yah! He said we could order whatever! I’ll order chicken and you order noodles!”

“Why do we have to order from too different places?” Jungkook replies. 

“Just figure something out!” Someone barks in the background. It sounds like Yoongi. I can just picture Hoseok sitting among the chaos.

I laughed at their banter, but it came out a bit chopped. My nerves were getting to me. I was quiet most of the ride, but just like everyone said, be bold. Do whatever feels right. What’s the worst that could happen? He could reject me? Embarrass me in front of all the guys, and make the atmosphere?

Yikes! I just cringed at the thought. 

I shut the car door and followed behind Jungkook and Jennie as he did the regular door unlocking as well as the double doors.  Everyone was in the “lobby” area. Jimin and Taehyung stood around Yoongi who sat at the circular table. They were clearly annoyed him, as he sat there with a blank face as they poked at him. 

Jin sat a few sat away from Yoongi and had a smaller MacBook opened. 

Namjoon stood in front of the chalkboard, writing and a few things, and beside him was Hoseok. My heart hammered a bit. I could see most of his back, and a bit of his side profile. He on the circular table, some papers in his hands. He was looking between the papers in his hand and the words that Namjoon was writing.

He wore an oversized red t-shirt, and grey joggers with black sneakers. He wore one of those fancy Rolex watches on his risk and his hair was a bit messy.

There’s that same old focused face of his. 

Jungkook left my side, heading towards Jin who I guess was ordering food. Jennie gave me a knowing smile and nodded towards Hoseok. I walked further into the room, feeling self-conscious as I caught the guys' attention. I no longer had my white doctor’s coat to hide in.

One of the guys' whistle and I ducked my head down shyly. Namjoon turns around at the sound but Hoseok doesn’t seem to care. 

“Hi everyone,” I said shyly as I got closer.

Everyone says their hellos, well everyone but Hoseok. Namjoon smiled at me, his gaze flickering to Hoseok quickly. Namjoon turned back to the blackboard and continued with what he was writing.

Jennie also went about greeting everyone, saying her hellos before taking a seat at the table. She leans back and grins while crossing her arms. I act oblivious to the fact that everyone was secretly waiting for me to approach Hoseok. I walk around the table, ending up on his right side. 

“Hey,” I said softly. 

“Hey,” Hoseok replies pausing for a beat before looking at me. I don’t miss the way his eyelashes flutter and his eyes flickered down my body quickly. 

“How was your flight?” I asked just as his eyes met mine again. His eyes were narrowed  

“It was good.” Since he was seated on the table, his line of sight was my face, making us the same height at that moment. He refocuses on what Namjoon is writing. 

There’s that warmth I always feel when he’s around. His presence is so...comforting.

I stare at his profile for a second more and just...do what feels right. 

I take hold of his bicep while leaning forward and I did the same thing I did at the gala. I kissed him on the cheek. I pulled back, my face still close. He looks at me, eyes wide. I smile in response, almost wanting to laugh at the deer in the headlights expression that was on his face. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” I spoke softly. His eyes, no longer wide, scanned over my face. His eyes narrowed and he looked at me...wantingly? My eyes widen in response. Whoa. I drew back completely, taking my hand off his bicep and noticing just how the atmosphere in the room changed.

I faced the board, flustered by Hoseok’s gaze on me. 

“S-so what are you writing, Namjoon?” I asked quickly and my heart fluttered, wondering if Hoseok’s eyes were still on me. And they were. I could feel his eyes on the profile of my face. I drew in a deep breath, trying to seem interested in what Namjoon was telling me.

Something about someone going around Korea saying they are ‘Seok’ the mafia head and creating trouble. Someone is basically pretending to be Hoseok. 

I nodded understandingly. 

“Boss is looking hungry,” Taehyung sang playfully as he walked around the table.

Jennie snickers and to no one, in particular, says, “But not for food.”

I turn to look at Hoseok just in time to see his gaze move from me to the paper in his hand. He scoffs, in a light manner this time, and a small smile stays on his lips as he goes back to reading the document. Chuckles sound through the room at Jennie’s remark. Hoseok doesn’t say anything, focusing on the work at hand.

But the red color of his ears said it all. 

“Cute.” I cooed to myself, and Hoseok heard, his red ears getting even brighter. 

Hoseok,  I’m gonna break those walls down Brick by brick.

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Thank you for reading! Like, reblog and let me know what you think :)) I also have a question for you, how do you view “Y/n” in terms of personality and character? Also any predictions?