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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

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The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning.

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing.

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job, ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office.

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention.

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe.

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play.

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square.

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code.

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles.

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms.

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob.

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads.

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

“He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.”

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him.

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor.

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Crushing - Harry Styles

a/n: just a little something that was inspired by a tiktok and @pastequeharry !

pairing: Harry X Famous!Reader

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

“Welcome back, I hope has everyone returned from our little break because we are playing a fun little game with Y/N, who by the way won a Grammy award for best new artist this weekend, so congratulations on that!”

Ellen smiles at you widely as she claps along with the audience and you’re just smiling shyly, still not quite used to the sound of it.

“Thank you,” you nod looking around.

“Okay, we are going to play a round of who’d you rather. Are you familiar with the game?” she asks you.

“Yes, I’ve seen others play it before.”

“Great. For those who don’t know the game, two people will show up on the screen and Y/N will have to choose one. Whoever she chooses will come with us to the next round and at the end we’ll know who is her ultimate crush.”

“Ah man,” you huff, feeling a little nervous about who they are gonna show you and the audience laughs at your reaction as your fingers dig into the armrest of the armchair you’re sitting comfortably in.

“Are you ready?” Ellen questions with a smile that tells you just how much she is enjoying this.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be, but let’s get started,” you chuckle nervously.

“Okay, let’s see our first pair,” she starts and two pictures show up on the big screen and on the smaller one at the front of the stage so you don’t have to crane your neck. “So we have Zendaya and Tom Holland. Who are you choosing?”

“You really had to start with two of my biggest Marvel crushes?!” you whine and the audience starts laughing again as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to decide. “I love them both, but I’m gonna have to go with Zendaya, because in height, we would be better. I’m sorry Tom, I still love you!” you declare, looking around all cameras, hoping they all got your confession.

“Alright. So now we’ll keep Zendaya and move on to the next person, who is… Harry Styles. Zendaya or Harry Styles?”

The blood rushes out of your face as you see a picture of Harry, memories of the two of you meeting at the award show in the weekend flooding back to your mind. Harry has been a crush of yours since probably forever. You’ve been a fan of his since his One Direction days and your career started to take off sometime around the time he started his solo career, only difference is that it took you a little longer to earn yourself a name in the industry. But this weekend you finally met him for the first time, in real life, without you just watching him on the stage with four other men.

You spotted him at the area that led to the red carpet, he was about to step out when his eyes laid on you and though he was wearing a mask, you still knew he was smiling from the little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, stopping in your track as you were holding up your gown so you wouldn’t trip and fall with all the cameras around.

“Y/N! Hi!” he greeted you stepping closer, as if the two of you were old friends.

“Hi!” you managed to speak up, feeling completely starstruck.

“Love the gown! You look wonderful!” he complimented you and you could feel your cheeks heating up so fast.

“Oh, thank you, but I think you’re stealing the show with the boas,” you chuckled making him laugh as well.

“Thank you. Congrats on the nomination, I really hope you win by the way.”

“You do?”

“Of course. Listened to the album, it’s really good,” he nodded and your heart skipped a beat. Harry Styles listened to your album and he liked it? This must be Heaven, but when did you die?

“Thank you so much! I hope you win too, though your chances are better with your three nominations,” you joked making him laugh again.

“Yeah, just a little,” he nodded. “Here, let me help you.” He offered you his arm helping you step up the few steps that lead to the area where the red carpet photos were taken and you were thankful for the help, though you could already hear all the camera’s clicking in your way and you knew the photos would be all over the internet by the next day.

You only met one more time during the evening and you could only congratulate to each other on the wins before you both were snatched away, but you still play your conversation with him in your head before you go to bed in the evening.

“Um, Zendaya is everything but I’m gonna play this game honestly so I’ll choose Harry.”

The audience starts cheering and clapping at the decision as Ellen smirks at you, nodding along.

“No need to be shy, we all have a crush on Harry probably,” she jokes making you laugh. “Okay, next up we have… Harry Styles and The Weeknd.”

“I’m gonna stick to Harry,” you answer probably a little too fast, but if you’re being honest, they can’t show you anyone at this point who would beat Harry.

“Harry stays, next we have Harry and… Florence Pugh.”

“You guys made sure to make it hard for me!” you chuckle staring at the screen. “But I’m still gonna stick to Harry, though I love them both.”

“Alright, for the next round we have Harry Styles and Niall Horan.”

“I’m upset, because as a One Direction fan, I should not be forced to choose between them,” you point at Ellen, giving her a hard look which the audience finds quite hilarious.

“I’m sure you had ranked them before, don’t be shy,” she smirks and you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, no offence to anyone but Harry stays. Sorry Niall, I still love you though,” you add with a smile.

“Harry is in a winning streak, it seems. Okay, let’s see his next opponent. Harry against Chris Evans.”

“Harry,” you answer with a sigh, crossing your legs, knowing well you will not choose anyone over Harry.

“Fast answer, great. Harry Styles or Ariana Grande.”

“Love Ariana, she’s a queen, but Harry,” you answer with a smile, the audience enjoying your obsession over Harry Styles and at this point you are not even trying to hide it.

“Harry Styles or Henry Cavill?”

“Harry,” you answer right away.

Henry’s picture disappears and Harry’s moves to the middle as the game comes to its end.

“Seems like we have a winner here. Harry Styles beat everyone!” Ellen chuckles as you glance at the big screen, blushing a little, but you are hoping your makeup is covering it well.

“You said it yourself, everyone has a crush on him,” you shrug, trying to play it cool.

“Yes, but not everyone was helped out by him,” she smirks as a photo of the two of you appears on the screen from last weekend and you cover your face with your hands as the audience goes wild.

“He is a gentleman,” you sigh dreamily.

“He really is and I have to say that the two of you look great together.”

“Oh stop it,” you chuckle, playing it over a little, just to make it less obvious how giddy even the thought makes you.

“Well, now we know that he is your number one choice, hopefully he’ll take the next step,” Ellen chuckles before moving on and asking you a few more questions as part of your appearance on the show.

Weeks go by and you kind of forget about the whole interview. It blows up the next few days, but nothing really happens, people just get excited that you are crushing on Harry just like everyone else, but it dies down pretty quickly.

You barely recovered from your Grammy win and yet you are already marching towards another milestone in your career. None other than Gucci asked you to be part of their new campaign in an amazing photoshoot and you just couldn’t say no, not that you ever even thought about it. After some online meetings and sending emails back and forth the first fitting’s day has finally arrived and you are buzzing!

Heading down to the showroom to go over every outfit they want you to wear for the photos, you can’t wipe the excited grin off your face. Growing up you could only dream about owning anything Gucci, now you are going to be promoting them so it truly is a dream come true.

Arriving you are walked into the showroom that is now filled with racks of clothes and there’s a podium with three mirrors surrounding it for the fitting.

“Y/N! Hi! So nice to finally meet you after all the emails and calls!” Nancy, the creative director of the campaign greets you.

“Nice to meet you too!”

“We are in a little bit of delay, I’m very sorry about that, but we can start in about ten minutes, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, no worries. I’m free all day,” you assure her before she thanks your patience and runs off to finish off whatever she was doing before.

Wandering around you take a look at the beautiful clothes on the racks, blown by basically everything you see and you can’t wait to wear the outfits that were meant for you. In the back of the room, a part is closed off for a changing area and you hear the door opening as Nancy walks out first, talking to someone following her behind and when you see the person, you freeze.

Harry Styles walks out, wearing a just a shirt and jeans, looking very casual but still, unbelievably hot. The man could wear a potato sack and still look better than any other men.

“Thank you so much,” he smiles at Nancy before his eyes lay on you, a wide smirk tugging on his lips in realization. “So nice to see a familiar face!” he beams, walking closer before he pulls you in for a short hug that catches you by surprise, but also warms your chest.

“Hi, didn’t expect to see you here, though you are kind of one with the brand at this point,” you tease him making him laugh.

“I am, yeah. I heard that you would be featured in the campaign as well. Amazing choice,” he smirks, glancing over at Nancy who smiles proudly, clearly agreeing with him.

“Y/N, I’ll get the changing room ready for you and we can start in five, alright?” Nancy informs you.

“Yeah, thank you!” You nod in her way and she is already off to do the work, leaving you and Harry alone.

“So, I learned some interesting information the other day,” he hums with a serious face and he got you curious about what it could be.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, you know, I was watching The Ellen Show and you were on, playing a little game.”

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, already feeling the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks. Harry smirks down at you, clearly enjoying that he got you so nervous and embarrassed of what happened.

“I wish I knew about your little crush earlier!” he teases you, making your groan.

“And why is that? So you could pull my leg at the Grammy’s when I was already shitting my pants?”

Harry lets out a chuckle shaking his head as he hides his hands in his pockets, his eyes running up and down your figure before they meet with your gaze again.

“No. Because then I wouldn’t have talked myself down from asking for your number.”

You can’t help the stunned reaction that takes over your face at his blunt flirting, your lips part as your eyebrows shoot up while Harry just stares back at you with a sly smirk on his deliciously pink lips.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, but now that I know that you are crushing on me just like I’m crushing on you, I think it’s time to make the first step. So…” he pulls his phone out and hands it over to you and continues while you type your number in. “I’m not just asking for your number, but I happened to hear that you have nothing else planned for the day, is that true?”

“It is,” you nod, feeling out of breath as you hand him back his phone, your number saved in his contacts.

“Then how about grabbing lunch after your fitting? I happen to have nothing today as well, we should take advantage of it,” he suggests and you can’t push your stunned smile down.

“Sounds good,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Great. I’ll run some errands while you are here and I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“You could stay here if you want, I don’t mind it,” you tell him, feeling like he is only leaving because he doesn’t want to intrude.

“I would love to, but I really want to see the final outcome of the campaign and not spoil it for myself,” he smirks making you chuckle.

“Alright. Then see you in an hour.”

“Yeah,” he nods with a boyish smirk before turning around and walking out of the showroom.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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havin-a-wee · 3 years

Text

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles blog #harry styles headcannon #harry styles au #dad!harry #one direction smut #one direction fanfiction

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tommybaholland · 3 years

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their guilty pleasure show/movie they like to watch with their s/o

featuring: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, kaminari, uraraka, ashido, jiro, yaoyorozu, shinso, amajiki, hado, utsushimi, fuyumi, and dabi

trying a different style since this includes every character i currently write for lol enjoy! x

midoriya -> the incredibles: he likes any disney/pixar movie but obviously, the one about heroes is his absolute favorite. you can bet that he ran to get tickets for you and him to see the second one when it finally came out.

bakugo -> kitchen nightmares: he loves gordon ramsay because he’s usually justified whenever he’s yelling at people and calling them rude names. you like to tease that it’s like watching him while he cooks or watches others cook. he claims that he could run a restaurant that chef ramsay would praise as the best.

todoroki -> spirited away: he enjoys a lot of the studio ghibli films but this one will always have a special place in his heart. he grew up watching it and reminds him of a happier time spent with his family. however, its sentiment becomes greater whenever he can watch it with you.

kirishima -> the twilight saga: he doesn’t like to get caught up in the hype but he was totally team jacob after he watched new moon with you. that is until you watched eclipse and he thought it was “so not manly” when jacob kisses bella by surprise. it’s safe to say he’s very team edward by breaking dawn.

kaminari -> the bachelor: you mostly just like this show for the irony in that the bachelor is usually just some guy that many girls are competing over. he watches mainly for the ladies, which he’s not afraid to admit. however, if he were the bachelor, you’d get all his roses.

uraraka -> miss congeniality: she loves the tough and no-nonsense attitude of the female lead as well as some really good laughs in it. she especially likes the self-defense scene and actually takes note of it.

ashido -> legally blonde: look, there’s a lot of pink in this movie and she’s into it. also the fact that elle woods is a feminist icon and mina often uses the iconic line, “what? like it’s hard?” to commemorate her.

jiro -> freaky friday: everything about this movie is iconic to her: the music, the style, the early 2000′s vibes. one time you asked her what she would do if you two switched places and she replied that no one would notice a thing because her impression of you is spot on.

yaoyorozu -> love it or list it: she loves some hgtv on a do-nothing sunday but this show, in particular, has both looking at pretty houses or building a better house. it’s also like research for her in trying to find useful things that she could try to make with her quirk.

shinso -> cabin in the woods: he is definitely the type to make fun of most scary movies but the fact that this one does it for him makes it just pure gold. however, its notoriety with him falters just a bit as he prefers that you hold onto him a little more like you do when you watch other horror movies together.

amajiki -> zootopia: he likes cute things, which mostly includes you and animals. not only is it a fun and empowering movie, but he also loves that the main character is a rabbit when he’s watching it with his favorite bunny.

hado -> harry potter: she’s a nerd at heart and a long-time fan. she’s pretty sure that she’s a ravenclaw and she’d be the seeker of the quidditch team. sometimes she talks about how fun it would be if you met at hogwarts instead of ua but at the end of the day, she likes the uniqueness of everything about you and your relationship.

utsushimi -> mean girls: like jiro, she’s into the 2000′s high school movie vibes. she knows all the famous quotes from this movie but she’s determined to come up with a better trend than “so fetch.”

fuyumi -> bad teacher: while she is a responsible and level-headed person, she likes to have a laugh or two with you and an irreverent movie like this one. it makes it especially ironic since she is in the education industry.

dabi -> any true crime documentary: it’s pretty on-brand of him to eat up true, sometimes unsolved stories of murder and serial killers. he finds it interesting but he’s also lowkey taking mental notes while watching. in another life, he thinks he’d be someone who would want to try to solve mysteries like them.

hello again, bnha night! send more requests of your favs..

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #kirishima x reader #kaminari x reader #uraraka x reader #jiro x reader #ashido x reader #yaoyorozu x reader #shinso x reader #amajiki x reader #hado x reader #utsushimi x reader #fuyumi x reader #dabi x reader #tommybaholland

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atlafan · 4 years

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a/n: A couple of weeks ago I saw a post about ex’s to lovers, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So basically it’s a story about two people who ended things on a semi-good note, like nothing inherently bad happened between them, but they decided to break up. Sometimes people find their way back to each other, though. That’s what we have here. Harry is a tax attorney, a few years older than our MC, Blair Smith, who teaches jazzercise. (not proofread) PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU READ THIS AND LIKE IT, YALL WANTED ME TO KEEP POSTING FICS ON HERE, SO HERE YOU GO! PLEASE, IT TAKES TWO SECONDS! Check out my patreon for other excursive content.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut (sub!Harry????), mentions of death, a funeral

Words: 17.8K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Blair Smith)

When Blair Smith became a Physical Education major in college, she never thought that would lead her to leasing a dance studio, and teaching jazzercise. It took her until she was twenty-five to really get it all together. She wasn’t mad about it, she actually enjoyed it more than she thought. She double minored in Dance and in Business Administration, she had never been so thankful to have overloaded herself in her life. She thought she would be teaching gym at the high school level, along with some health and nutrition classes, but when she did her practicum semester at a local high school near her college, she realized that working with younger students was not for her. None of them listened, none of them really wanted to be there, aside from the gym-class-heroes, and she couldn’t stand that the majority wouldn’t even change their clothes for class.

Blair wanted to make her own rules. Luckily, after presenting a well-thought-out business plan to her parents, she was able to get them to co-sign for a loan from the bank to lease a dance studio. She named her studio Just Dance because she offered different types and levels of jazzercise. Some involved use of weights, some involved a little more high intensity, and some involved a little yoga. She was grateful for the couple of marketing classes she took because she was able to really build her brand. She had an Instagram, Facebook Page, and a website. She had an online way to sign up for memberships, and she had daily drop-in prices.

It was easier than she thought to build her clientele. She had a great spot in the city, and there was a small parking lot out back behind the building. Most of her friends from school signed up, and helped her advertise. It was open to men and women, as opposed to a lot of jazzercise places that only offered classes to women. Even though Blair couldn’t afford to hire a second instructor, she was managing things just fine. She offered two early morning sessions, one lunch hour session, and three evening sessions. So, she had plenty of time to relax, stretch, and not over work her muscles. She was strategic about class offerings as well. She gave herself Sundays and Fridays off, since those seemed to be the days with the least amount of people signed up. Monday through Thursday, and Saturday, she made sure to stagger her lessons. For example, Mondays and Wednesdays were weights and yoga infused classes, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays were the high intensity days. Going into her fourth year doing this, she had it down to a science to say the least.

Business was always really good in January and February, when people were making their New Year’s resolutions, and during the summer months when people were trying to feel better about being in their bathing suits. Blair always preached positivity and inner health as the most important things. It was an inclusive space, which is exactly what she wanted it to be.

She liked working for herself. If she needed to run errands between classes, she could. If she wanted to take a nap in the middle of the day, she could. She didn’t have to answer to a single person. Her parents would sometimes ask questions, but mostly just to make sure Blair was making her loan payments on time. She had automatic withdrawals set up with the bank, so she didn’t even need to think about it. Yup, Blair had just about everything figured out, and she knew she was very lucky for that.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Sullivan, we’ll get everything figured out for your son. Yes, he’s in very good hands with me. Alright, have a nice evening.” Harry hangs up his phone and sighs, rubbing at his temples to soothe the oncoming headache he could feel. It was another complicated trust fund case, but that was the job.

The Law Office of Styles and Associates was a tax attorney office. Harry specialized in cases that dealt with trusts, gifts, and various tax planning structures to reduce the burdens of income taxes and estate taxes, and he assisted in devising investment strategies. His undergraduate degree was in accounting, and he minored in pre-law. After that, he went to law school for three years and passed the bar. His father had been a tax attorney as well. Harry liked living the comfortable life he was able to live growing up thanks to his father, and he wanted the same for himself. Plus, he just enjoyed crunching numbers for people, so it was a win-win. Making nearly $150K a year wasn’t too shabby either.

“Hey, H, you ready to go?” John comes into Harry’s office.

“Yeah, just finished up for the day.” Harry stands up, puts his suit jacket back on, grabs his brief case, and heads out. “Kate, feel free to head home, I’m done for the day.” He tells his secretary on his way out.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, have a nice weekend.” She smiles at him.

“Same to you.” He nods and keeps walking with John. “I feel terrible, she’s pregnant, you know? Her feet are the size of melons by the end of the day.”

“When’s her maternity leave start?” John asks as they enter the elevator.

“Not for a while, she’s only seven months along. She’s been trying to train some college intern to take her place while she’s gone, but no one’s as good as Kate.” Harry rolls her eyes. “Oh well, I’m happy for her. Her and husband have been trying to get pregnant for a while.”

Harry and John make their way to a bar downtown, one of their usual Friday evening spots. They usually met up with some of their other law-school buddies. It was also a great way to blow off steam from the week. Sometimes Harry would end up pulling a 60-hour week, so he thought he deserved to cut loose, and have a little fun with his friends. Maybe meet a pretty girl he could take back to her place and have a whole different kind of fun with her. Harry was a phenomenal attorney, but when it came to his personal life, well, if you looked up the definition of a playboy, his picture would be there. He fucked around, a lot, without a second thought. Actually, his only thought was to make sure he always had a condom. Harry never went bare back. The last thing he needed was someone claiming he was the father of their child, and suing him for child support. The only time he didn’t use a condom was when he was in a legitimate relationship a couple of years back.

He thought about her from time to time. He never met another girl like her, and there were times he really did miss her. The breakup wasn’t anything dramatic, the pair had just grown apart. Harry was in the process of taking over the practice for his father, and she…wasn’t quite ready to settle down. She wanted to work on her own career and make a name for herself. It hurt that she didn’t see him in her vision for the future, but he understood where she was coming from. She was a few years younger than him, and he didn’t want her to resent him for taking away her time to be young and have fun. So they ended it. Since her, he decided to have some fun himself with his friends.

Blair got the call right before her second morning class on Wednesday morning. She nearly collapsed on the floor in tears. Everyone rushed over to her. She had to cancel everything for the rest of the week, and her clients were more than understanding.

“How did it happen?” She asks her mother, Pam.

“He had a stroke, and…god, he just didn’t bounce back.” Pam uses a hankie to wipe her tears. “Most of everything should be all set, he was very specific, but…we’re going to need an attorney. Your father’s biggest fear is that his first wife would claim that she has a right to his pension, that she was promised money or something.”

“God, I hate her.” Blair grimaces. “All she’s ever cared about is making him miserable. She just wants money for her son. He’s not even Dad’s!”

“That’s why they got divorced! She cheated on him with his best friend and got knocked up. You can see how sticky this is going to get. I hate to ask, but…”

“I’ll go see him.” Blair sighs.

“I just think he might sympathize, maybe work the case pro bono. I’m not sure we could afford him otherwise.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mum, I’ll talk to him and figure it out. I’m not going to let Lora fuck everything up for you.”

Kate nearly choked on her water when she saw Blair walking towards her. She knew Harry had a meeting with a B. Smith. She should have known better.

“B-Blair, hi.” Kate says.

“Kate! Oh my goodness, you look incredible! You and Roger finally-“

“Yeah! I’m due in a couple more months.”

“That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you.” Blair smiles. “Um, I think I set up a meeting through an intern?”

“Yes.” Kate sighs. “I’m training her for when I go on maternity leave. Um, may I ask why you’re here to see Harry?”

“It’s strictly business. My…my father recently passed, and-“

“I’m so sorry.” Kate frowns. “He was always so nice.”

“Yeah, he was a good guy. Anyways, there’s a lot going on with his will and a trust he set up for my mom. Harry’s the only person I could think of when my mom said we’d need an attorney.”

“Of course.” Kate nods. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” Kate knocks on Harry’s door and opens it. “Mr. Styles?”

“Yes?”

“Your 2PM is here.”

“Ah, great.” Harry squints at his screen to check his calendar. “B. Smith? Why does that sound familiar?” He puckers his lips in thought.

“Um…it’s Blair.”

“Blair!” Harry stands up and bangs his knee in the process. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?!”

“I didn’t know! Maura answered when she called to set up the appointment.”

“Fuck.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “How do I look? Is there anything in my teeth?”

“No, you’re fine. Just relax, I’m going to send her in.” Kate leaves his office and smiles at Blair. “He’s ready for you.”

“Thank you, Kate. We should catch up before the baby comes.”

“I’d like that. I miss going to your classes.”

Blair nods and goes into Harry’s office, closing the door behind her.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hi.” He walks over to her, leaving about a foot of space between them. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?” Her bottom lip trembles, and his smile fades. “What’s wrong?” He asks softly.

“M…my Dad died.” She says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He pulls her in for a hug so he can comfort her. “When’s the funeral? You know you could have just called me, you didn’t have to be so formal.”

“Actually, I did.” She sniffles and steps back from him. “I need an attorney, my mom and I do…only…we can’t really afford a good one.”

“Oh.” Harry nods. “Have a seat.” He gestures, and rounds his desk to sit back down in his own seat. “Is this about his ex-wife?”

“Unfortunately.” Blair rolls her eyes, and grabs a tissue off his desk. “My mom is scared she’s going to pull some fake paternity crap with her son, even though everyone knows he’s not my Dad’s. I think my mom just wants to be prepared for the inevitable shit storm Lora’s going to bring.”

“I don’t blame her.” Harry sighs and leans back in his chair. “I…haven’t taken a pro bono case yet this year. I could help that way.”

“Only if you really want to. I’m not asking for a handout, but I don’t trust anyone else to take care of me.” Blair blinks when she realizes what she’s said. “Us, I don’t trust anyone else to take care of us.”

“Right.” He leans forward. “I’d be happy to do it. Um, does your mom want to meet with me, or-“

“I think she’s sort of hoping I’ll take care of all the legal stuff. She’s grieving, you know?”

“So are you.” He frowns.

“You know me, I like to keep busy during these sorts of things. I can get a copy of the will, and the trust information over to you via email if that works, and then we can go from there?”

“Sure, yeah. My email’s still the same, um, and so is my phone number…”

“I still have your phone number.” She rolls her eyes.

“Then why didn’t you call me about this first? Why call and make an appointment?”

“I…I thought if I called…you’d think I was calling for something else.” She blushes. “I wanted you to know it was strictly business.”

“Blair, all you had to say was that your dad died. I could have been there for you. You live alone, all you do is work…your best friend is my cousin…do you and Riley even still talk?”

“Of course we do! Just because we broke up doesn’t mean that she and I did. I met you because of her, I was her friend first. It would be really shitty to stop talking to her because it didn’t work out with you.”

“Okay, Christ, calm down.” He shakes his head. “You’re as hot headed as ever, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, my father just died and I’m trying to keep it together!” Her eyes rim with tears again. “He’s never going to be able to walk down the aisle when I get married, he’s never going to meet his grandchildren, there are so many things…he was too young.” She sniffles.

“How did it happen?”

“He had a stroke, and didn’t recover.” She looks away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I appreciate that, but that’s not going to being him back, so don’t be sorry. Just…help me with this.”

“I will, there’s no question about it.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She stands up. “I’ll email you.”

“Blair.” Harry stands up. “Look, if you need anything else, don’t be afraid to ask. If you need a friend…I’m here for you.”

“I have plenty of friends.” She sighs. “And no offense, but my friends don’t fuck a ton of women weekend after weekend and treat them like shit.” She smirks.

“I don’t do that.” His face flushes. “I just haven’t met someone I’ve really wanted to continue seeing, that’s all.”

“Harry.” Blair shakes her head as she chuckles. “Not that I ask, but Riley’s told me a few things. You two are close, and when she gets drunk she loves regaling me of your many escapades.”

“I’ll have to send her a very strongly worded text after you leave.” He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get mad at her, it’s fine. I don’t really care.”

“You don’t?”

“No, why would I? It’s not me you’re fucking, so it doesn’t concern me.” She shrugs. “That’s the beauty of breaking up, Har, I don’t give a shit where you stick your dick at night.”

“Well, obviously you do if you won’t even let me be a friend to you, Blair.”

“I just…I don’t want us getting close again, alright? It’ll hurt when we end up parting way, and I don’t wanna go through that while also grieving my Dad. Can you understand that?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this all sorted out.” He smiles at her.

“Thank you. I need to go. I told my mom I’d be over to help her pack some things up. She sort of just wants to rip the band aid and put his clothes away.”

“If you need any help at all with any heavy lifting, call me.”

“Harry.” Blair sighs.

“I’ve got that nice SUV, I can help move stuff, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll talk to you soon.” She says, and out the door she goes. Kate waits a moment before coming into Harry’s office.

“Scotch?” Kate asks.

“Scotch.” Harry nods, and Kate goes over to his credenza to take out his good crystal and liquor to pour him a small glass.

“You’ll get through this.” She lifts her water bottle to cheers with him, and he downs the brown liquid.

Blair was back at work the following week. She needed the distraction. Lora had been eerily quiet. Maybe she didn’t know that Blair’s father passed, but as soon as the obituary hit the papers, she was sure that witch would be out and about to cause some trouble. At the end of Blair’s last Thursday class, she heard the sound of dress shoes on the hard wood. She turns to see Harry.

“You know there’s not supposed to be outside shoes in here. I just mopped.” She puts her hands on her hips and huffs at him.

“Yeah, I’m well aware of the rules. I used to be your best customer, remember?” He smirks. “Anyways, I looked over all the documents, I thought you might like to go over everything with me before the funeral, in case she shows up to cause trouble, you’ll have all the facts.”

“I need to, like, go home and shower…today was an intensive day, I’m soaked.”

“Perfect, I’ve got dinner in the car. We can go there, eat, and go over the documents.” He smiles.

“You’re such a weasel.” She chuckles. “But I’m too tired to argue with you. What did you pick up to eat?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing special.” He shrugs. “Just some dumpling curry from that Thai place we both like.”

“I take it back you’re not a weasel, you’re the devil.”

Harry drives over to Blair’s apartment. He didn’t have a key anymore so he had to wait for her. He follows her up to her apartment, and makes himself at home while she goes to take a shower. She hadn’t changed much, but he definitely noticed some different pictures on her bookshelves. They used to be littered with framed photos of them, and she had a ton of scrapbooks for the two of them, but those seemed to be missing now as well. He sighs while he plates up the food for the both of them, and opens up a bottle of wine while he waits. Blair comes out about ten minutes later with her hair wrapped up in a towel, and her long, plush, pink robe around her body. She sits down next to him at the island.

“Wine?” She questions, but picks up the glass to take a sip.

“It’s been a long day, to be honest with you. I’m gonna work from home to catch up on some sleep tomorrow since I don’t have any meetings.”

“You know I have Fridays off, we could have done this tomorrow.” She frowns.

“It’s okay, I figured you’d want everything now. The funeral’s Saturday, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Eat up, and then we can look at everything.”

“We can do both at the same time.”

“Does your nose still run like a leaky faucet when you eat spicy food?” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“Thank you for picking this up.” She says as she takes a bite. “I haven’t had this in forever.”

“Me neither…I stopped going because I didn’t want to run into you there.”

“That’s why I stopped going. We should have divided up restaurants when we broke up.” She laughs, and takes another sip of wine. “Do you mind if I dry my hair when we’re done eating? I’ll get a-“

“You’ll get a headache if you don’t, I know the drill.” He takes a sip of his own wine, and eats a spoonful of rice.

“Stop remembering things about me.” She swats a hand at him.

“We were together for long enough, Blair, I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, well, quit throwing it in my face, okay? We’re not doing this to go for a stroll down memory lane.”

Harry knew he’d be waiting at least twenty minutes while Blair dried her hair. He walks around her living room, stretching his legs a bit. He was curious to see what she had filled her bookshelves with. There was a picture of her and Riley from their freshman year of college. Harry picks it up and smiles. Harry was in his first year of law-school when Riley and Blair were college freshmen. He didn’t meet Blair formally until their senior year, and he was in his first year working at his father’s firm. He was helping Riley move in after winter break, and Blair had already been there.

“Blair!” Riley exclaimed. “I missed you so much.” She threw her arms around her.

“I missed you too! I’m glad we both agreed to come back a week early.”

“Same here. This is my cousin, Harry. Harry, this is Blair.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Harry shook Blair’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Her mouth had run dry. They held eye contact for a beat too long. “You’re in law school, right?”

“I finished last year, I’m actually working now. I’m a tax attorney.” He explains. “It’s my dad’s business.”

“And it’s super boring.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Har, could you bring everything in for me? I have a meeting with my advisor that I need to get to. We’re going over my practicum stuff.”

“Sure thing. We’re still getting dinner later, right?”

“Mhm, I shouldn’t be too long. Blair, you don’t mind if Harry hangs here for a bit, do you? You’re also welcome to come to dinner with us.”

“Sure, I don’t have a problem with it.” She shrugged.

“You’re the best. See you in a little while!”

“Is there a lot of stuff? I can help.” Blair said to Harry.

“Not a lot, no. But…I’ve never been here before, so if you could just show me upstairs, that would be great.”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

Harry brought Riley’s suitcase in, and Blair led him upstairs. She showed him Riley’s room.

“Is yours similar?” He asked.

“My room? Um, no…it’s a little different.” She swallowed. “Do you wanna see?”

“I’d love to.” He grinned, and followed her down the hall to her room. “Riley’s told me a lot about you over the years, but she failed to mention how insanely gorgeous you are.” He leaned against her wall after she closed her door.

“Well, she failed to mention how hot her cousin is, but I suppose that would be a weird thing to say about a family member.” She smirked. “How old are you, exactly?’

“I’m about to turn twenty-six, what about you?”

“I’m almost twenty-two…in May.”

“Not a huge age difference.” He walked towards her.

“Not at all.” She looked up at him with big eyes.

“Want me to kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, all done.” Blair says, coming out with her all dry and pretty. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just saw this old picture of you and Riley.”

“God, we were babies then.” Blair smiles at the photo. “We took that on the day we met at orientation.” She looks at him. “Wanna sit on the couch?”

“Sure.” Harry grabs his briefcase and takes out all of the documents he needed to go over with Blair. “So, as you can see, your father set up a trust for you that you’ll get access to a year after his passing. That’s pretty standard. Your mother has a different sum of money that she’ll be able to access much sooner. There’s absolutely nothing in his will about Lora or her son. Even if she tries to contest it, there’s nothing in here that would indicate he was hiding anything. I looked over their divorce settlement as well, she stopped getting alimony when she remarried. She literally has no case. You and your mum can take a breather.”

“Oh, what a relief! Thank you, Harry. She’ll be able to let herself relax for the first time in a while.”

“Are you going to take any more time off from work?”

“Well, I’m closed Saturday, and I’m off Sunday, and I’m closed Monday as well. Then I’ll be back to it Tuesday.”

“You’re only giving yourself a long weekend?” He frowns.

“Harry, I can’t afford to keep closing. I make enough with the memberships, but I won’t be making the extra I do from the walk-ins.”

“Look, if you need some money-“

“Don’t you dare.” She stands up. “I don’t want your money, Harry, I never have, and I never will. I’m not your goddamn sugar baby!”

“I never said you were!” He says, standing up.

“But you used to make me feel like that all the time! You were always paying for every little thing. You never let me pay for a single thing. It was like you had zero confidence in me, even though I was running a successful business!”

“You were just starting out! All I wanted to do was help you, make it a little easier for you. You’re the one that went to their parents for loan help when I would have done it in a heartbeat! You crushed me.”

“We weren’t even living together, and you were ready to drop that amount of money on me?! That would have been so weird!”

“We were both working odd hours, and we had only been together a few months at that point, moving in would have been weird! A loan is totally different, I would have been investing in something great.”

“Well, I didn’t need your investment! We were together for nearly three years, Harry, what’s your excuse for not living together after all that time, hm?”

“I would have felt guilty. I was never home, I didn’t want you waiting up for me. It was easier when I could just come here and crawl into bed with you after a long day. And you always had to get up so much earlier than me. I thought…I thought it was better that we weren’t living together. You had never lived alone before, I wanted you to enjoy the freedom.”

“Was that it, or did you just want to keep your own?” She huffs, crossing her arms. “You know what, this fight is useless, it doesn’t matter because it’s not going to solve a single fucking thing. Thank you for your help, I really do appreciate it, but now that I know everything’s fine, you can go. If I need anything else from you down the line, I’ll reach out. I’m sure Lora will make a stink, and therefore I’ll need an attorney. But it’s all professional, Harry.”

“You’ve made that plenty clear already, thanks.” Harry packs up his things, and Blair walks him to the door. They look at each other. He just sighs and heads out the door.

Blair would be lying if she said that she didn’t miss Harry. They had a really special bond that was hard to find with just any one. All they did that first day they met was kiss, have a passionate make out, but that was it. Blair didn’t want to go too far with him in case Riley wasn’t comfortable with it. But Riley was overjoyed when Harry asked if she would mind if he asked Blair out on a date. It was a whirlwind from there.

He took her on some of the nicest dates she had ever been on. Most guys would take her out for coffee, maybe a movie if they could scrape the money together, but Harry took Blair out to nice restaurants, and to the movies that had lux levels. Not to mention his condo, god, she loved his condo. He liked that she kept things simple. Crockpot dinners at her place, watching TV curled up in her little full-sized bed, and clipping coupons together on Sunday mornings. That was where they had sex for the first time, in her little bed after their fifth date. He told her he loved her for the first time on the top of a Farris Wheel during the spring carnival her campus held, and she wasted no time saying it back. After that, a deeper trust formed between the two of them. One that not a lot of people would understand. Harry didn’t quite understand it himself since he was usually the one who was a little more dominant in bed, but with Blair…well, needless to say after a long week of working cases, his favorite thing was to come home, find her in his bedroom with some lingerie on, and letting her tie him to the bed posts for a little while. It was a release he didn’t even really know he needed. And with her, having been a college student about ready to graduate and enter the real world, it felt like so many things were out of control. Harry gave her that control back.

Harry wonders if that’s why they breakup seemed so much harder on him than her. It seemed like Blair was able to let go so easily. Yes, he started fucking around afterwards, but he just couldn’t get that same high from anyone else, nor did he trust some random girl at a bar to do the things for him that Blair once did. Blair was just better at hiding her emotions. She missed Harry, she’s missed him for a long time now. She cried for weeks, feeling this undeniable ache in her heart without him around. But, she had her studio to throw herself into, a brand to keep building. It was the perfect distraction, and even though she missed Harry, she didn’t hate being single for the first time in a while. For three years, Harry had been like her security blanket. The way she looked at it, every kid eventually stops sleeping with their security blanket at some point. It was time to be independent.

The funeral was a graveside service. It was cloudy, but there wasn’t rain, which was probably the only upside Blair could think of. She was there, sitting next to her mother, other family members in the row behind them. Her mother was holding Blair’s hand, but this is one the few times Blair wished someone was there for her. Just as the service was about to get started, someone sat down next to her. She looks to her right and sees Harry, dressed in black from head to toe. He doesn’t say anything, he just puts his arm around her, and rubs his shoulder. He gives Blair’s mom a soft smile before sitting back in his seat.

“Harry…you weren’t supposed to come until afterwards…” Blair says.

“I know.” He looks at her. “I just wanted to be here for you.”

Harry gave Blair his extra tissues while she cried during the service. He held her the entire time, and stayed back once it was over. Then, he offered to drive Blair and Pam back to Pam’s home. Neither of them were in any condition to drive. There were a lot of people that came back to the house afterwards. Blair was able to calm down a bit, but her mother was really taking it hard.

“We don’t have to do this today.” Harry says to Blair.

“No, we should just rip the band aid. Then she can just…” Blair’s eyes widen when she sees Lora walk through the door. “Oh, you miserable cunt.” She says.

“What?” Harry asks, confused.

“Not you, Lora’s here.” Blair storms over to her. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” Lora smiles. “I’m here to grieve the loss of my first husband.”

“You weren’t at the funeral.”

“I didn’t want to upset anyone.” Lora shrugs. “So…have you read the will yet? I think I should be in on that.”

“Lora.” Pam says when she walks over. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” Pam sighs, and has everyone follow her down the hall to the guest bedroom. Harry takes out the paperwork.

“There’s been-“ He starts, but he’s cut off.

“I’m sorry, but how is it legal if her boyfriend is reading the will?” Lora asks.

“We’re not together anymore. We haven’t been for a while. He’s here as our attorney, that’s it.” Blair says.

“Anyways, been a trust set up for Blair a little down the road. Everything else, including the house, has been left to Pamela Smith. There is no mention of anyone else’s name.”

“That can’t be right.” Lora scoffs. “I was promised-“

“He would have never left you anything.” Pam says. “And I’m sick of dealing with you. He’s gone, he’s left you nothing, you have no ties to us now. It’s clear as day that Derek is not his. He owed you absolutely nothing, you gold digging bitch.” Pam steps closer to Lora. “Now, get out of my house before I have you removed. I buried my husband today, I am in no mood to be fucked with.”

“Fine.” Lora says, turns on her heel and leaves.

“Way to go, Mum.” Blair gives her a high five. “I thought she’d put up more of a fight than that.”

“With your father maybe, but not with me. I’ve ripped her cheap extensions out more than once, and she knows I’ll do it again.” She takes take a deep breath. “I think I’m about ready to be done for the day. I need to lay down.”

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Blair asks her.

“No, honey, thank you. Auntie Fay is staying, I’ll be alright.” She looks at Harry. “Harry, I can’t thank you enough for helping with all of this.”

“Don’t mention it. If there’s anything else I can do, anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Drive Blair home.”

“Mum.”

Pam raises her hands in defense and leaves the room.

“I can drive you back if you want. I took an uber out here as it was.” Harry says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You’ve done enough for me today, it’s alright…I can make it back on my own. Riley’s flying back in from Chicago tomorrow and we’re gonna have a girl’s day, so-“

“Blair, I still have your keys in my pocket, I’m driving you.”

“I don’t need you to swoop in here and act like superman, Harry.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I know my dad’s not around to do it anymore, but-“

“Hey.” He takes her in his arms. “I wish I could take it all away, I really do. I wish you weren’t going through all of this, baby.”

“Harry.” She sighs heavily into his chest.

“Sorry.” He rests his chin on the top of her head. “Some habits are hard to break I guess.”

“Have you called anyone else baby in the last year?” She nuzzles in close to him.

“No.” He tilts her chin up to look at him. “I never could.”

“Okay, you can drive me home.” She sighs. “I’m about ready to pass out as it is.”

Blair takes a few minutes to say goodbye to the people still at the house before her and Harry get into her car. He keeps the music volume low, and her eyes start to droop. Harry can’t help but feel soft and warm knowing she was so easily able to fall asleep with him there still. She’d always fall asleep on long car rides.

“Blair.” Harry says, trying to wake her up. “We’re at your place, love.” She groans at him, and he sighs. “Are you really going to make me carry you up?” She groans again and he rolls his eyes. Blair would always pretend to be asleep so Harry would carry her inside. He unbuckles her, gets out, and opens her door to lift her out. “You’re killing me.” He grunts as he carries her to the front door. He keys in, and carries her up the stairs to her door. “I know you’re awake.” He says as he brings her to her bedroom.

“Mm, but you’re so strong and warm.” She mumbles.

“Okay.” He chuckles and lays her on her bed. “Are your pj’s still in the third drawer of your dresser.”

“Harry.” She sits up. “You don’t have to do all that…”

“I was just gonna grab you a shirt and get out of your hair.” He says innocently.

“God, I’m so confused.” She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“About what?” He grabs a bed shirt for her, and sits on the edge of her bed.

“I think I’m just feeling vulnerable, I don’t know.” She looks away from him. “I don’t want you to go.” She mutters, and then looks at him. “But I also don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“If you need me to stay as a friend, I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’d never leave you like this.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I was just gonna pretend to leave, and then crash on your couch.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that. Got a queen sized bed now, plenty of room.”

“I can see that.” He smiles. “There was nothing wrong with your old bed. It was kinda fun when we were practically sleeping on top of each other.”

“Yeah, but your bed was better for…well…never mind.” She clears her throat. “Um, I still have some of your old pajama pants in my drawer, you can wear those if you want.”

“I’m good with just boxers if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, um sure.” She gets off the bed to stand up. “I’m just gonna go wash up and change.”

Harry nods and gets undressed. He goes over to her bathroom door to wait his turn. Blair’s eyes widen when she sees him standing there in his underwear.

“You don’t have a spare toothbrush, do you?”

“Um, you can use one of the extra heads I have for my electric brush.”

“Thanks.” He steps into the bathroom as she leaves to go back to her bedroom.

“Oh my god.” She says to herself. He had beefed up a bit. Harry was already sort of beefy, but he used to be leaner. Had he been getting a lot of protein? She shakes her head as she crawls into bed. Harry comes in shortly after and gets in on the other side. She turns her head to look at him. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” He looks at her. “I’d be a pretty shitty person to leave you in a time like this.”

“Yeah, but you could be catching tail at some bar with your friends.” She smirks at him.

“You make me sound like I’m promiscuous or something.” He chuckles and turns fully on his side towards her. She does the same. “It’s a stress reliever, and I always wrap it up. M’not doing anything wrong.”

“Do you, um, do what we used to do with any of these hookups?”

“No.” He smirks. “No, I don’t think I could ever trust someone in that way again even if I tried.” He chews his bottom lip. “What about you?”

“Harry, to be honest with you…I haven’t slept with anyone since we broke up.”

“Blair, that was a year ago.”

“I’m well aware.” She rolls her eyes.

“That’s a long fucking dry spell.”

“It’s not a dry spell, it’s a personal choice. I threw myself into the studio, I worked on choreographing a ton of new dances. I was building my brand, bringing in more clientele. Plus…anytime I’d use a dating app or go out with Riley to a bar…no one was ever you.”

“I know things seemed mutual and we didn’t end in some big blow up…but I was so hurt that we couldn’t make things work.” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear. “I thought we were going to be together forever.”

“So did I…but I don’t know if I was ready for something so long-term yet, which I know sounds stupid because three years is a long time to be with someone.”

“It’s not stupid. I would have felt the same at that age. It was sort of selfish of me to try to lock you down the way I was.”

“You weren’t being selfish for wanting to be with me, Harry.”

“You know, the last thing I expected when I helped Riley move in that semester was falling in love with her roommate. You just looked so cute that day.”

“You remember how I looked when we first met?”

“How could I forget? You were wearing these sweater leggings that had snow flakes on them, and you were wearing this oversized sweater that was hanging off your shoulder, and you kept trying to tug it back on. You seemed so flustered around me.”

“I was.” She laughs. “I thought for sure you just wanted to fuck me and then leave with the way you pushed me up against the wall when you kissed me.”

“Yeah, you nearly shit yourself at dinner afterwards. Poor Riley had no idea I frenched you for a solid thirty minutes.”

“My lips were so swollen, she had to have known. I was more in shock when you came by a week later to ask me out. God, you were so cute, you were waiting outside my apartment with hot apple cider, and I had such a shit day at my practicum. I was in dingy sweats too, and you still told me I looked beautiful.”

“And I meant it.”

“Then you said I looked tired, and right before I went off on you, you pulled me inside and said that you were going to make me dinner so I could go upstairs and take a long hot shower.”

“Mhm, made you spaghetti and meatballs.”

“And that really yummy homemade garlic bread.” She smiles.

“Then we cuddled up and watched Ratatouille.” He chuckles.

“I was so mad that you had never seen it! And then you ended up loving it.”

“It’s a great movie, honestly.” He says, smiling at her. “Best first date ever.”

“Yeah, it was. When I went to sleep that night I couldn’t believe that a real man wanted to be with me. I don’t think any of the guys I dated in college knew how to cook.”

“Pretty sure I did a good job making you forget about any other guy you had ever been with.” He smirks, and she nudges his shoulder.

“Maybe…maybe when I’m in a better mindset…we could talk about…I mean…I’ve been thinking about you a lot ever since we started talking again, sorry, I’m rambling.” She sighs. “I don’t want you to think that I wanna give things another shot because you’ve been helping me and my mom, but it’s been hard not to think about it…especially after today.” She blinks away a few tears. “I wasn’t expecting you to come to the service. Riley felt awful that she couldn’t be there, and I felt so alone, even being with my mom. You’re so selfless.” She pouts at him.

“I would love to talk about potentially getting back together. I…I don’t think I realized how much I missed you until you walked into my office. I thought I was out having the time of my life, but I wasn’t. Nobody could ever compare to you.”

“I think I just need some time to make sure I’m not…I’m not just feeling this way because you’re being so sweet to me when no one else is.”

“Take all the time you need.” He strokes her cheek. “M’gonna turn over now. If you just so happen to feel like spooning me, I promise not to question it.”

“Please, snuggling sounds like the perfect medicine after today. Assume the position, Styles.”

He chuckles and rolls onto his other side. Blair slots a leg between his, and wraps her arm around his stomach. They both sigh, and wiggle closer to one another. Blair hadn’t felt peace like this in quite some time, and neither had Harry.

Blair woke up in a fog the next morning. Her eyes still felt puffy and swollen from crying, and even though the clock read 10AM, she felt like she could stay in bed for at least two more hours. She remembers Harry staying and falling asleep with her, but he wasn’t there next to her now. Where he laid was still warm, so he couldn’t have left too long ago. When she smells coffee, she wakes up a bit more. There was a coffee cup from Dunkin’ on her side table, along with a small bag that she knew had to be a coffee cake muffin. She sits up and sees a note next to the casual breakfast.

Had to rush off to the office this morning. Got a call that one of my major clients passed, and his family is already fighting over the money. Had to time to run out and get you brekkie though! I’ll call you later. – H

Blair pouts at the note, and takes a sip of her coffee, which had cooled down just enough for her to sip it without burning her tongue. She texts Harry a quick “thank you” before diving into her muffin. This was his signature “sorry for not being there when you wake up” breakfast treat. There had been many mornings Blair had woken up alone after spending the night with him. It wasn’t because Harry liked scooting out, he just usually got pulled away due to something work related, and he knew that Blair liked being able to sleep in when she could on the weekends, especially when she was still in school. She never minded because she knew he was busy. She used to just lounge around for an hour or so in his large bed before getting up and making it. Then she’d take an indulgent bath in his Jacuzzi-tub. He’d usually get back to her sometime in the afternoon, and they would snuggle up to watch a movie before he brought her back to her apartment. It worked for them.

There were plenty of times Blair had to scoot early as well. When she was doing her practicum, she needed to be at the high school no later than 7AM, which sucked because at the time she was a major night owl. It’s taken her years of discipline to get herself to fall asleep at a reasonable time so she wouldn’t be so groggy and grumpy in the morning. That was something that Harry helped with as well. He told her about this sleepy time playlist on Spotify that he would listen to on the nights he needed to go to bed early. Blair had told him she couldn’t afford the premium membership and she didn’t want to be jolted awake by ads. So what did Harry do? He bought the subscription plan that allowed for two people to be on it, helped her shift her account, and even though she protested, he insisted. The music sounded like something a masseuse would put on, and it always put her right to sleep. Harry was a genius, at least Blair thought so.

“How do you always have an answer for everything?” She had cried to him on a particularly stressful evening. It was after she graduated, and she had just gotten her business up and running. She felt overwhelmed and scared. “You always stay so calm, it’s like you don’t even care!”

“I just know that this’ll pass, baby. You just graduated from college, you’re going through a major life change. You’ve had the same routine all your life, and now it’s completely different. In a few months things won’t feel as scary.” He smiled at her, and wrapped his arms around her mid-section. “Went through the same thing myself not too long ago. I promise, it gets a lot better. Your early twenties fucking suck.”

“Yeah? How are things looking in the world of mid to late twenties?” She pouted up at him.

“Well,” he moved some hair away from her face, “I’ve got an incredible girlfriend who loves me, and I just so happen to love her, and I’m feeling settled in mt job, and I have a great place to live, and oh! Finally stopped having stress dreams about missing a big exam. Can’t complain too much.”

“I…I’m gonna be really busy at the studio. I have to choreograph all these dances, and start advertising, and-“

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” He tugged her along down the hall to his home office.

“Harry, I’m not in the mood to fuck in your office…” She said, and Harry chuckled.

“As much as I love it when you let me bend you over my desk, that’s not what this is about.” He took her inside and took out a few sheets of blank paper and some pens. He sat down and pulled her into her lap. “Alright, this used to help me all the time when I was super stressed, still does, actually.” She watched as he drew three large circles, and wrote CHOREOGRAPHY in one, SOCIAL MEDIA, in another, and BUDGET

in the last. “Alright, so these are some rather large cookies, wouldn’t you say?” He looked up at her, and she looked down at him and nodded. “Okay, so what are some ways we can take little bites out of these?”

“Like a checklist for each?”

“Sort of, yeah.” He drew a few stems from each circle. “Almost like a backwards flow chart.”

“Is this what you do with your clients when they ask for financial advice?”

“Sometimes.” He nodded. “But more importantly, I want to help my girlfriend who is insanely frazzled. I hate when people try to be problem solvers…so hope you don’t think that’s what I’m trying to do…”

“No.” She shook her head. “This is great. I think if I have it all laid out in front of me…and can check certain things off…take smaller bites, like you said, I can handle things better.” She grabbed a pen and started writing, and making more stems, color coding a few of them. “My parents are gonna help cover the loan payments for the first year so I can save up, and start paying off my student loans.” She chewed her bottom lip. “And I can set aside some time in the mornings to do the social media stuff, and use the afternoons for choreography…evenings I can work on my website.”

“Just think of how sweet it’ll all taste by the time you finish.” He smiled up at her, and she leaned in to peck his lips.

“I love you, Harry, thank you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He kissed her again, ever so tenderly and soft. “Don’t let this stuff build up, you know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I just feel like my problems are so trivial, like, there are people that are starving, and I’m crying about being overwhelmed.”

“Your feelings are valid, don’t compare it to what someone else might be going through.”

“Do you think, um, could you just hold me for a bit?” It was so rare for Blair to be this vulnerable. Usually she was the one to hold Harry, but once in a while she just really needed him.

“Of course.” He shifted in his seat to cradle her to his chest. He was so warm and inviting, he always made Blair feel safe.

Blair sighs, and shakes herself from the memory. She couldn’t bask in the good times and act as if there weren’t also bad times. Although…there really weren’t that many bad times. She finishes up her muffin and gets out of bed. She grimaced when she saw herself in her bathroom mirror, and decided a long, hot shower would do her some good. She didn’t have the energy to wash her hair, so she grabs a scrunchie to put it up in a bun on the top of her head. As the warm water cascades over her body, she can’t help but continue to let her mind wander to other old memories.

“Harry! I told you I’d be five minutes.” Blair whispered to Harry as he entered the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and smirked. “Riley’s home! Just down the hall sleeping.” Harry pulled back the shower door, and walked into it with her. All he did was put a finger up to his lips.

“Then we’ll need to be quiet.” He whispered to her, ghosting his lips over hers.

“I…I’ve never had sex in the shower before. I always heard it wasn’t as cracked up as it looks in the movies.”

“That’s because people try too hard to do it full on.” He stepped into the water, getting his hair wet, and then moves her so she’s pressed up against the wall. He knelt in front of her, and looked up at her wet body. “Can I make you feel good, baby?”

“Y-yes.”

He grinned, and lifted one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Now, you need to stay quiet.” He pressed his lips to one of her hip bones, and kissed across her pelvis. “So, if it gets to be too much, just suck on your fingers or something, pull my hair, whatever you need to do.” She watched as his eyes darkened when he licked over her clit. His tongue moved to her slit and licked up. He moaned, letting his eyes flutter closed before looking back up at her. “You have no idea how fucking good you taste.”

“Blair!” Riley exclaims as she comes into the apartment. Blair’s taken from her thoughts just as she was whimpering out Harry’s name.

“I’m in the shower!” Blair yells back, and finishes cleaning herself up. She meets Riley out in the living room once she’s thrown some sweats on. “Hi.”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there.” Riley wraps her arms around her friend.

“You couldn’t have known.” Blair hugs her back. “A month in Chicago, I can’t wait to hear all about it.” They let go of each other.

“Are you sure you wanna talk about all that?”

“Yeah, I need the distraction.”

“Alright. I brought coffee and doughnuts.” Riley smiles.

“Thank you, but I might save that for later. I had coffee and a muffin earlier…um, Harry spent the night last night.” Blair blushes as they both move to sit on the couch.

“Holy shit! Pleas don’t tell me you called him for a booty call.” Riley frowns.

“No, it was nothing like that. I told you he was helping with all of the legal stuff…he ended up coming to the funeral unannounced. He was there for me…he drove me home and I asked him to stay. We just slept, and he was gone before I woke up because of a work thing.”

“Ah, and he brought you the old comfort breakfast to make up for it.” Riley shakes her head. “Well, I’m glad he was there for you. I always hoped you would become friends at some point after you broke up.”

“I don’t think I realized how much I missed him. I’ve been so independent for the last year, it felt kind of nice to lean on him for a change.”

“Do you think you wanna get back together?”

“I don’t know…I was definitely feeling something yesterday, even this morning, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m just sad and vulnerable, or if it’s because I really wanna give it a second go. I don’t really know what would be different this time. He still works crazy hours, and-“

“He’s dialed back a lot.” Riley cuts him off. “Ever since he’s taken over, and once he really got settled into it, he hasn’t been working himself to the bone like he was. Are there still some sixty-hour weeks? Sometimes, but not like he was, I swear.”

“He didn’t seem to think we still spoke…so that made me think you weren’t as close with him…”

“I don’t hang out with him as much…I speak with his friend John quite a bit, though.” Riley blushes.

“Speak to or fuck?” Blair smirks.

“Don’t. If Harry knew I was messing around with one of his boys, god, I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Oh, so he can go out with your friend, but you can’t go out with his?”

“John and I aren’t going out. We just…meet up to fuck sometimes, but we both still hookup with other people. I mean, I’m sure he slept with his share of people while I was away.”

“Did you?”

“There were a couple of people I let take me back to my hotel, yeah.” Riley nods. “Don’t say anything to Harry, okay?”

“Christ, I’m not his best friend all of a sudden. I think I was just emotional last night. I doubt we’ll even-“

There’s a jingle of keys, and then Harry’s entering the apartment. He freezes when he sees Riley.

“Hey! You’re back.” He smiles at his cousin. “How was Chicago?”

“Windy.” Riley says. “But fun, I made a ton of sales.”

“That’s great.” Harry sets the keys on the kitchen counter and then comes further into the living area. “How are you this morning?” He asks Blair.

“I’m okay, um, thanks for breakfast.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry I had to skip out. Uh, I just came back to see how you were, but I can see your girl’s day has started, so I’ll head out.”

“You can stay, Har, we were just gonna paint our nails, nothing you haven’t done with us before.” Riley says. “You don’t mind, right, Blair?”

“S-sure, you can stay, Harry…if you want to.”

“I’d love to stay.” He comes over and sits down on Blair’s other side. “Nothing like giving you a Styles sandwich to make you feel better.” He smirks. “Alright, Riles, what colors did you bring?”

The three ended up having a great day together. It felt like old times. They painted their nails, ordered Chinese, and watched Mystic Pizza. Riley was starting to get tired, so she left around six. The jet lag was catching up with her. So it was just Harry and Blair sitting on the couch watching Wall-E.

“Do you remember the first time we watched this?” Harry asks her a few minutes in.

“Mhm.” Blair smiles without looking at him. “It was that weekend we went away Hampton Beach, and it rained in the evening, so instead of being annoyed, we got all cozy and watched this.”

“After…” He looks at her, a smirk growing on his face.

“Harry.” She rolls her eyes.

“Come on, what did we do just before settling in to watch this adorable film?”

Blair sighs, but gives in, “We made hot fudge sundaes, and, um, I let you lay me on the counter and lick chocolate sauce and whipped cream off my body.” She swallows. “Then I did the same to you. We made a mess of the Air BnB.”

“We cleaned it up. Then we got into that big, comfy bed and just vegged out. Think this is one of my favorite Pixar films that you showed me.”

“You really liked Cars too.” Blair chuckles.

“Yeah, I did. That was a good one.” Harry leans back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head.

“You don’t need to do this, you know?”

“Do what, love?” He says without looking at her, eyes focused on the screen.

“Babysit me.” She mutters.

“S’not what I’m doing.” He scoffs. “I’m enjoying spending time with you, Blair.” He looks at her. “And I’m worried about you, but I’m not babysitting you.” He puts his hand on her knee and gives it a squeeze before taking it away. “Just relax, yeah?”

“Thanks.” She pauses for a moment. “Harry…would you be taking care of me like this if you had a new girlfriend?” Her eyes start to well up with tears. “Because-“

“Why are you asking a what if like that?” He reaches to wipe her tears with his thumbs. “At the risk of sounding totally lame…I was sort of just waiting on you. Sort of hoping you’d wanna get back together at some point. I tried dating, but it’s like I told you…no one was ever you.”

“So you just kept fucking strangers?” She was so confused.

“It was all meaningless. I figured if you were out there living your life, then I should do the same.” He shrugs.

“Harry, I know you think we broke up because you thought I needed time to be young or whatever, but I wasn’t out there fucking a ton of different people. I just…I don’t know, I wanted to be on my own.”

“And I understood that, as much as it upset me. What was I going to do, beg you to stay my girlfriend?” He moves a bit closer to her. “If we were to get back together, what would you want to be different? Obviously things stopped working…”

“It’s not that they stopped working, I just…I think I just grew up a little bit. You gave me plenty of room for it, but I just sort of realized that there were other things I wanted to do and I didn’t wanna be totally tied down. If we were to get back together, I wouldn’t want you paying for things all the time, or thinking you need to fix all of my problems. Sometimes I just want someone to listen without making suggestions, you know?”

“I didn’t even realize I was doing that.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you always meant well, and you were just trying to help in your own way.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It didn’t always bother me, but sometimes it did. I wasn’t perfect either, I know how closed off I could get.” She furrows her brows. “I’ve been trying to work on that. I added the yoga into my routines…so that’s been helping. You sort of inspired that.”

“I should start my membership back up.”

“Yeah…it would be nice to see you in class again.”

“Remember when I started coming on Tuesday evenings, and then we’d go to the Thai place for dinner afterwards?”

“Mhm, and then you’d take us back to your place, and set up a bath for us.” She sighs dreamily. “And then you’d massage my calves for me, ugh, I always loved that.”

“Couldn’t have my baby being sore the next morning, could I?” He pouts playfully at her, and she giggles.

“You were always so good to me.” Her face was only a few inches from his now.

“Fucking worshiped you.” His lips ghost over hers, and she whimpers.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

His lips slot over hers immediately, and cups her cheeks to pull her even closer. He sucks on her bottom lip, and she whimpers again. Blair tugs on Harry’s shirt, and then pushes his back to the couch. She moves to straddle him, and he wraps his arms around her body. They’re both grabbing at different parts of one another, and she shifts so she’s only straddling one of his thighs, rolling her hips down onto it. Harry groans, and starts kissing on her neck. She gets a fist full of his hair, and yanks his head back.

“Harry, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She admits. “I mean…we haven’t agreed to anything. I think we should take this slow, don’t you?”

“You just told me to kiss you, and then you climbed into my lap.” He smirks, and she starts laughing.

“Yeah.” She grips his chin with her other hand. “You’re always good at doing exactly what I say.”

“Always.” He agrees. “If you’re not planning on having your way with me then you should get off. You’re only gonna rile me up, and I’ve not done anything to deserve that.”

“No, I suppose you deserve a reward instead of a punishment.” She presses her forehead to his and lets her hands fall to his shoulders. She sighs heavily and then looks at him again. “I need a little more time. I wanna make sure that this really makes sense. The last thing I wanna do is hurt you again.”

“I don’t want you to feel hurt either.” He squeezes her hips. “I wanna give you the time, Blair, but you’ve also had a year to sort your feelings. You either wanna do this or you don’t.”

“I really hate it when you’re right.” She huffs. “But I know what you’re saying.”

“How about this…why don’t we go out Saturday night? We could go on a date, and see how it feels.”

“Why not Friday?”

“Because you work early on Saturday mornings, darling, and you’re just going to be getting back to it again.” He tucks some hair behind her hear. “Can’t have you being sleepy.”

“You’re so sweet.” She smiles. “Okay, yeah, I’d like that. Um, did you want to just go out for dinner?”

“If that’s what you wanna do, baby. I’m down for whatever.”

“I haven’t been to that grill we used to go to all the time in forever. Feel like I could go for a really good burger.”

“Alright, we’ll go to Benson’s. I’ll pick you up around six, how’s that sound?”

“I think it sounds like a date.”

On Wednesday evening, much to Blair’s surprise, Harry walked into one of her evening classes with Riley. Riley had a cheeky smile on her face, and Blair just shook her head at the two of them. It had been ages since Harry had been to one of her classes, and he had picked a yoga day.

“Good evening, everyone!” Blair says once everyone gets there. “We’re gonna start off with our warm up, and then get in to it. We’ll work a little with the weights, and then we’ll cool down with the yoga like always. Does everyone have their weights?” She hears a collective yes. “Alright!” She hops up onto the small stage and gets the music playing.

When the class is over, a few people hang back to talk to Blair. Riley would usually grab a quick bite with her after class. A guy was talking to her now.

“Hey, who is that?” Harry asks Riley as they clean up their stations.

“Hm? Oh, that’s Rich, he has a thing for Blair.” Riley rolls her eyes. “He refuses to take a hint. The second he found out she was single he was all over her. She’s nice to him, but she doesn’t like him back.”

Harry narrows his eyes, and reads Blair’s body language like a book. Her arms were crossed, and she was casually trying to step away from Rich.

“I’ll get him to leave her alone.” Harry says.

“Harry, don’t.” Riley grabs his wrist. “She can handle herself.”

“I know she can, but she looks so uncomfortable. What if they were left alone here, and he tried something. He needs to know she has some backup.” Harry walks over to the two, and Blair can’t help but smirk because she knows exactly why Harry’s walking over. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but we should get going if we want to make trivia night.”

“Right! Yeah, sorry, Rich, I need to get the studio cleaned up so I can head out.” Blair was thankful. Harry was always good at coming up with excuses for them to leave places early. Usually it was because he needed to get her home so she could fuck him, obviously now that wasn’t the case.

“Oh…alright, well, I’ll see you next week. Have a good night.” Rich looks Harry up and down before leaving.

“Thank you.” Blair sighs. “He’s a nice guy, but I’m not interested.”

“Obviously.” Harry scoffs. “Have fun with Riley.”

“You don’t wanna come with?”

“Nah, I need to get home. I have some stuff I need to do before tomorrow. Still on for Saturday?”

“Mhm.” She nods with a smile.

“Good.” He kisses her cheek. “I’ll call you Friday.”

Harry leaves and Riley helps Blair cleanup before they head out to a Panera for dinner.

“So, you two are going out on Saturday?” Riley asks her when they sit down with their food.

“Yeah, it’s sort of like a first date. I wanna make sure things feel really right with us. I have a feeling we’ll get back together officially, though.”

“Yeah? What makes you think that?” Riley smirks.

“Well…we kissed on Sunday night when he was still over. It was a really good kiss too, it was familiar, but there was still that, like, passion, you know?”

“I would love it if you got back together. I never really liked the other people he dated, and I was so excited when you both got together. He’s like the brother I never had, and I want him with someone that really cares about him. I never doubted that with you. You guys got together at a weird time in your life where you were sort of at different places. Now…well, now you might mesh better. You grew up a lot during the time you were together, I know that was tough on you both.”

“Yeah, it was.” Blair sighs, and bites into her piece of bread. “I feel like I could handle things better now. He’s been there for me during so many tough times, he’s seen me…at my absolute worst, and still loved me through all of it. I can’t wrap my head around him turning into such a playboy.”

“I couldn’t believe it myself, but I honestly don’t think he really knew how to deal with not having you around, and then…I don’t know.” Riley shakes her head. “He always wrapped it up, that’s what John told me, anyways.”

“He mentioned that to me too.” Blair rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to hold anything against him, we weren’t together. I don’t have the right to judge him about it.”

“He only wanted you, B.” Riley smiles.

“I really have missed him.” Blair smiles. “I’m really looking forward to going out with him Saturday night.” She bites her bottom lip. “Wanna come with me to Victoria’s Secret during the day? I think I should pick out something new…”

“Yeah! I’ve got a coupon to go there, actually. I need some new undies.”

“Oh, yay! We haven’t been shopping in forever.”

“I know! I hope I’m not on the road for an entire month like that again. It got old real quick.”

On Friday, Harry was in his office wrapping some things up, going over some paperwork. Then he looked over his calendar for Monday, just to see what meetings he had, and if he needed to do anything over the weekend.

“Mr. Styles?” Kiley, the intern training with Kate comes into his office.

“Miss Stewart, what can I do you for?” He asks, giving her his full attention. She pouts slightly at him.

“You can just call me Kiley…you call Kate by her first name.”

“I’ve known Kate for quite some time, Miss Stewart.”

“Well, we’ll get to know each other pretty well once she’s on maternity…right?”

“Most likely.” He nods. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, sorry.” She pulls a paper out of her bag. “Um, I just need you to sign off on the hours I worked this week since Kate left early. I forgot to ask her before she stepped out for her doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh, sure.” He gestures for the paper. “They’re really on you guys about the hours, huh?”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “I don’t mind, though, because I have to write a paper explaining what I did, so having an account of that will be helpful.” She shrugs. Harry hums his response as he signs the paper and hands it back to her. “Thank you…any fun plans for the weekend?”

“Just laying low tonight. I’ve got a date tomorrow, though.” He smiles.

“Oh! That’s nice.” She smiles. “Did you just meet someone?”

“No.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Might be starting over with my ex, which I’m pretty excited about since I’m still hopelessly in love with her.”

“Well in that case, I hope it goes super well.” She beams at him.

“Thank you, Kiley.” Her smile widens at him even more. “Feel free to head out, enjoy your weekend.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. I expect a full report of your date on Monday morning.”

Harry chuckles and nods as she leaves. Just when he thought his door was going to close, John enters.

“Wrap it buddy boy, we gotta meet the guys soon.”

“About that…I’m going to skip out on tonight.”

“Seriously? Why?” John frowns.

“I…I have a date tomorrow night with Blair, and-“

“You can’t be serious.” John rolls his eyes and sits down. “Why would you even entertain the idea of getting back together with her?”

“Because she seems ready for a relationship again. I still love her, and I think she still loves me. There’s still a chemistry between us, physically, so we’re going to Benson’s for a burger tomorrow to see if everything else is still there.”

“So that means you can’t come out for guy’s night?”

“You know as well as I do that guy’s night never stays guy’s night. I don’t want to be tempted by anything that could fuck me over. Besides, it wouldn’t kill me to stay in for a change. There’s a book I’ve been meaning to get back to. I wouldn’t mind just taking it easy, you guys have a good time without me.” Harry smiles at his friend. “It’s nothing personal…”

“I know.” John sighs. “You’re just fun, that’s all…” John looks down at his phone and smirks.

“Maybe you’ll meet up with that girl you see on the regular. Seems like she just texted you.”

“Maybe she did.” John nods.

“How come you don’t just date her? I’ve watched you turn down other girls to go meet up with her a dozen times.”

“It’s a little complicated. She travels a lot for work, we’re both just looking for someone familiar to hookup with right now.”

“Guess that makes sense.” Harry shrugs. “You’re pretty busy yourself”

“Exactly, so when’s around I see her more, and when she’s gone, I see other people. She does the same. We’re pretty open about it.”

“Good.” Harry smiles. “Have a beer for me tonight, yeah?”

“Alright.” John sighs and stands up. “Have fun with Blair, I guess.”

“You could sound a little more enthused.”

“I’ll be enthused if she doesn’t string you along.”

“She never strung me along.” Harry shakes his head. “We were a great team.”

“Seems like you were always doing everything for her.”

“No, she did plenty for me.”

“Babe?! I picked up a pizza!” Blair shouted as she entered Harry’s place, putting her key in the bowl by the door. “Baby?!” He wasn’t in the kitchen like she thought he’d be. She set the pizza down on the counter and walked down the hall to his home office. Her jaw dropped when she saw him knuckling at his eyes. “Harry, are you crying?” She asked softly.

“Blair.” He said, almost surprised. “Hi, I lost track of time, I’m sorry. Let’s eat.” He stood up, but she went over to him and urged him to sit.

“What happened, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, baby.”

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying. Talk to me.”

“I’m just really stressed.” His voice cracked. “I was looking forward to taking over for my dad, but there’s so much other shit that’s been added to my plate that he didn’t really prepare me for. Now he’s down in Florida living it up with my mum, and I can’t even talk to him about it because I don’t want him to be disappointed in me. He’s trusting me with everything.”

“That’s a lot.” She wipes=d his tears away. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling like this.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Is…is there anything I can do to help? Anything I can do to help take your mind off things for a bit? I brought pizza…”

“Um…yeah, I think there is something you could do for me, but it doesn’t involve food.” He stood and took her hand, leading her out to the living room. They both sat down. “Sometimes when we’re having sex…I let you take the lead, have you noticed that?”

“A little.” She shrugged. “I mean, I like that you’re not super dominating, it makes me feel safe.”

“Right, but before you I wasn’t really like that. I was always in control, but with you…I feel really safe too. So safe…that I’m able to just let everything else slip away when we’re doing what we do.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“I…I sometimes I think I want you to really be in control. I’m not saying all the time, but I have to be in control of so many things, and I think it would be nice to not.”

“Okay, so I could ride you more if you want.”

“Well, that would be nice.” He smirked. “But I’m talking more like…like maybe you could blindfold me once in a while, or you could cuff me to the bed?” His was flushed with embarrassment. Her eyes widened as she finally started to understand what he was trying to say. “I’ve totally freaked you out, haven’t I? I know that stuff isn’t for everyone. I was just thinking we’ve been together a while now-“

“Harry, calm down.” She smiled, squeezing his hand. “I think it’s kind of hot that you wanna explore some different things.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “I…just don’t ask me to, like, whip you or anything. I don’t think I could hurt you.”

“No, I’m not looking for pain.” He chuckled. “I just…wanna clear my head sometimes, that’s all.”

“Okay, I think I could be into that. You know how much I love all your ties, I’d love to tie you up with them.” She grinned, and he groaned softly.

“What do you say we leave the pizza for later, and we head into the bedroom to explore a little bit?”

“I say we’re in for a fantastic weekend.”

“Whatever you say man.” John says. “See you Monday.” John leaves Harry’s office, and Harry sighs. He never told anyone about what he and Blair did, it was no one’s business. He certainly wasn’t going to let it slip now.

At around 10AM Saturday morning, Blair picked up Riley so they could go shopping. Riley had bags under her eyes, and a fresh hickey on her neck. Blair’s mouth fell open the second Riley got in the car.

“Don’t.” Riley mumbles.

“I didn’t say anything.” Blair chuckles.

“But I know what you’re thinking.”

“Did you meet up with John last night?”

“Yeah, I guess Harry didn’t feel like going out last night, so I met up with him at some bar, and then he came back with me to my place.”

“Oh shit, is still there?”

“No, he left at, like, seven.” Riley rolls her eyes. “But not before he fucked me again.” She shakes her head. “We’ve fucked so many times, I don’t know how he’s not sick of me yet, or how I’m not sick of him.”

“Maybe it’s a sign you two should be more.” Blair smirks.

“I mean, we’re basically just in an open relationship, that’s the way I look at it anyways.” She shrugs. “We were up most of the night.” She yawns loudly.

“You could have stayed home.” Blair frowns as she keeps her eyes on the road.

“No, it’s okay, I wanted to go shopping with you.”

The girls make their way to a Victoria’s Secret, and start shopping around. Just as Riley hoped, there was an underwear sale. Blair indulged in it as well. Nothing wrong with getting some new undies to replace some old ones.

“Oh, these are cute!” Blair says, holding up a cheeky pair of panties.

“Yeah! I’ve been way more into the lace cheeky bottoms instead of thongs lately.”

“Me too! It’s way more comfortable. To be honest, I wear boxers a lot around my apartment. They’re more breathable than athletic shorts, and they don’t ride up.”

“Of course men have more comfortable underwear than us.” Riley sighs heavily. “Oh! Look at these white ones! Can never have too many white pairs.”

“Snag me a pair, please.”

Once the girls are done picking out their underwear, and a couple of bras that were two $50 (yes, way overpriced, but necessary), they head to the part of the store where the lingerie was.

“What are you looking for exactly?” Riley asks as she looks over some babydoll nighties.

“I don’t know, nothing crazy, but if things go well tonight, which I think they will, I wanna surprise him with something fun.”

“You’d really jump into bed with him right away?” There was no judgement in Riley’s voice, more so surprise.

“I mean…I know he’s your cousin and all, but he’s pretty hard to resist, Riles. He had me wrapped around his finger from the second we met.”

“Fair enough.” Riley shrugs. “I might try one of these on…surprise John one of these nights.”

The girls giggle as they pick out different things. Blair ends up finding a black lace bralette and matching panties that she thinks will work well under an outfit. The only thing was the bralette didn’t have any support, like, at all, but she was able to adjust the straps on it a bit to give her a slight lift.

“God, I wish I danced as a kid.” Blair huffs as she leaves the dressing room to meet Riley out at the register line.

“Why?”

“Because then maybe I wouldn’t have these fucking honkers on my chest. I’d love to be able to wear a bralette without worrying. My boobs are so saggy, I look like a granny when I don’t have the proper support.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Riley chuckles.

“Easy for you to say, Miss B Cup.”

“Hey, I’d kill to have boobs like yours. I always feel like mine are too small. I have to wear pushups all the time. Besides, your boobs are not saggy, they just sit a little lower on your chest.”

“When I really started dancing I thought they’d get smaller since I was working out all the time, but nope. The worst part is, it’s all right here.” She lifts her arm slightly and rubs just under her armpit. “I’m only a C, but I feel like a double D sometimes when I put a bra on, it takes all the side boob to the front.” Blair puts her things up on the counter, and Riley goes to the next register.

“Find everything okay?” The girl behind the register asks.

“Mhm.” Blair smiles. “I have some coupons too.” She takes her phone out so the girl can scan the barcodes on Blair’s screen.

“Oh, that’s a good one! Took off 25% of your total.” The girl puts everything into a bag for Blair, and she heads out with Riley.

“So, when will John get to see that babydoll?” Blair smirks at Riley.

“When I feel like he deserves it.” Riley grins. “If he invites me over tonight, I might bring it with me.”

“Do you usually see him two nights in a row?”

“Sometimes, but not often. I think he missed me a little since I was gone for so long. Kinda missed him too. He told me he’d call me later today.” She shrugs.

The girls grab a quick lunch before heading home. Blair didn’t want to eat anything too heavy since she was going to be eating out for dinner, so she just had a salad. She spent some time doing some social media work for her business, and then spent some time putting a new dance together. Her customers had been asking for some more throwbacks, so she was crafting some choreography to a couple of Ricky Martin songs. They could be used for the high intensity days. She always recorded herself so she could go back later to review the steps.

When she was done she was drenched in sweat, so she hops into the shower to freshen up. She sort of ends up pampering herself a bit. She shaved her legs, so she massaged some lotion into them, and used some cocoa butter on her thighs because she liked the way it smelled. After that, she grabbed her electric razor to trip her bikini line, having exfoliated first in the shower, so she was plenty smooth where she wanted to be. She spritzes some perfume into the air and walks through it, then she gets to work on her hair. She had been sporting a shoulder length look lately. Her hair used to be really long in college, but in recent years she had been keeping it a tad shorter. It was up in a braid or bun most days, but she decides to wear it down tonight. She puts on some makeup, and then goes through her closet to find something to wear over her new lingerie. She decides on a pair of black jeans that could easily be word with some booties. She pulls on a blush pink tank top and a tan cardigan to complete the look. You could just see the lace top of the bralette, and she sort of liked that look. Her phone goes off just as she’s putting some lipstick on.

“Hello?” She answers brightly.

“Hey, baby, I’m downstairs.”

“Okay, be down in a sec!” She throws some makeup remover wipes into her bag, and a spare toothbrush, then she heads out. Again, she didn’t quite know what would happen tonight, but she wanted to be prepared. Harry was standing outside his car. He smiles when he sees her.

“Hi.” He says, and opens the car door for her.

“Hi, thanks.” She smiles back and gets inside. They head towards Benson’s, being silent in the car at first. “How was your week?” She asks him.

“Good, had a pretty good workout Wednesday.” He grins, looking at her for a moment before looking back at the road. It makes Blair giggle. “Work wasn’t too stressful for a change, although I’m getting anxious about Kate going on maternity leave.”

“Is the intern no good?”

“No, she just doesn’t have a lot of experience. She’ll get the hang of it.” He shrugs. “How was your week, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. I spoke with my mom last night, she’s doing alright. My aunt’s been staying with her, so that’s good.”

“Do you think she’ll sell the house?”

“Nah, she likes where she lives, but I think she’s going to paint and change a few things so it doesn’t feel like such a ghost town, you know?”

“Makes sense.” Harry nods. “I know I’ve offered a ton, but if she needs any help with anything, don’t be afraid to ask. I can hold my own with a paintbrush.”

“Thank you, Harry, that’s very sweet.” She gives his shoulder a squeeze. “It was really nice having you in class Wednesday.” She says shyly.

“Yeah? Would you be opposed if I started coming regularly again?”

“Not at all, I’d really like it, actually.” She smiles. “It…it made it easier to wait to see you tonight.” She blushes, and he reaches for one of her hands. He brings it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“You’re cute.” He tells her, resting their hands on the console, not letting go at all.

They get to Benson’s, and get seated in a booth. Harry hesitates for a moment, desperately wanting to sit next to her, but he thinks that might be too much too soon, so he sits across from her. She gives him a funny look.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing…you’re just far away. You usually sit next to me.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

“I want you to.” Harry smiles, stands back up, and slides in next to her. She hooks her arms around his and rests her cheek on his shoulder. “Much better.” She sighs. He kisses the top of her head, and a waitress comes over.

“Evening, folks, are you expecting anyone else?” She asks.

“No, love, it’s just us.” Harry says to her, squinting at her nametag. “Becky, is it?”

“Y-yes.” She clears her throat. “Can I get you started with any drinks or appetizers?”

“Definitely two waters.” Blair begins. “And I’ll have a vodka-tonic, please.”

“I’ll have the same.” Harry says. “Do you want an app?” He asks Blair.

“No, I think just the burger will be good.”

“Right, think we’re ready to order dinner.” Harry says to Becky.

“Great! What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the turkey burger with cheddar cheese and sautéed mushrooms.” Blair says.

“And I’ll have veggie burger with avocado.” Harry says.

“Sounds good, I’ll be right back with your drinks.” Becky says, taking their menus before walking away.

“Just a veggie burger?” Blair asks Harry.

“Yeah, I’ve been craving a good one lately, and they make the best here.”

“Very true.” She nods. Becky comes back over with the drinks, and sets them on the table. “So…do anything fun last night?”

“I stayed in.” Harry says, before taking a sip of his drink. “Got caught up on a book I’ve been reading, watched a little TV, nothing special.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go out with your friends. Isn’t Friday usually your guy’s night?”

“Yeah, I just felt like skipping last night.” He shrugs. “What about you, what did you do?”

“I ran errands all day, and then went to bed early so I could get up for my early classes this morning. Then Riley and I went shopping, and then I did some work at my place. Got ready to go out with you.” She shrugs.

“What does Riley have to say about all this?”

“She’s happy that we’re entertaining the idea of getting back together.” Blair chuckles and sips her drink. “Did you tell anyone we were going out tonight?”

“Mentioned it to my intern…and to John. He wasn’t so enthused.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“He’s never liked me, and I literally have no idea why.”

“Think he was just jealous that I snagged someone as gorgeous and bright as you.” Harry grins. “You know, when we first got together a ton of people gave me shit because you were still in school.”

“I was in my last semester, and I was twenty-one, it wasn’t like I was a child.” Blair scoffs.

“That’s what I said! It wasn’t like I was looking for someone younger than me, it just happened.”

“We just clicked right away, nothing wrong with that.” She inches a little closer to him, her ankle hooking around his under the table.

“Not at all.” His lips graze over hers, but their food is brought over to the table before they can really kiss.

They both giggle and dig into their food, each moaning out at the taste. They continue to talk about things, catching each other on the last year that they weren’t in one another’s lives. It felt easy and natural.

“I don’t wanna be too forward, but would you like to come back to mine when we’re done?” Harry asks.

“I’d like that.” She nods. “Got any sweets at home?”

“Mhm, I’ve got those chewy chocolate chip cookies you like so much.”

“This night just keeps getting better and better.” She smiles. When the check comes, they both reach for it.

“Blair, let go of the check.”

“No, I wanna pay for dinner.”

“I insist, let me pay.”

“Harry, I don’t want you always paying for everything, come on.”

“Fine, can we at least split it?”

“Ugh, fine.” She slaps her card down and so does he.

“So fucking irritating when you do that.” He huffs.

“No, what’s irritating is that you think I can’t pay for stuff.”

“That’s not what this is! I just like paying for our dates, it’s gentlemanly.”

“Yeah, well, it makes me feel like shit.” Becky comes to grabs the cards, and tells them she’ll be right back. “I’m doing well for myself now, I want things to be more equal. I’m not with you for your money.”

“I know you’re not, baby…I just…I can’t help that I wanna spoil you rotten.” He presses his forehead to hers, and she sighs before pecking his lips quickly.

“There are plenty of other ways you can do that, Harry.”

“Am I gonna have the chance?” Becky comes back with their cards, and they both sign their slips before sliding out of the booth. She takes his hand in hers as they walk out.

“Yes.” She says as they both get into the car. “I…I think wanna see where this goes with you, babe. I feel like I’m really ready for you now…”

“That means the world to me, Blair.” Her bottom lip starts to quiver, and he frowns. “Hey, why are you crying?” He reaches to caress her cheek.

“I just can’t believe you basically were waiting for me all this time.” She sniffles. “I feel so shitty. And I feel even shittier because I’m jealous of all the other people you slept with that we weren’t together.”

“Baby.” Harry sighs. “I was so in love with you, still am, none of them meant anything. I’m sorry you feel hurt by it. You don’t need to worry about it now, though, I’m all yours.” Her hand grips the collar of his shirt and she tugs him close to her, only a few centimeters apart.

“Mine.” She says, eyes darkening before her lips crash against his. She nips and sucks at his bottom lip as his hands cup her cheeks, trying to get even closer.

“Fuck.” He breathes, putting his keys in the ignition. “Need to get you home.” He pulls onto the street, and zips them home. His hand grips her thigh the entire time, squeezing it occasionally.

“Thought of you last weekend in the shower.” She says, shifting on her side a little. “Thought of the first time we had sex in the shower.” Her breath is on his ear now, and she nibbles on his lobe.

“Blair.” He warns, but she keeps going, kissing on his neck.

“Made me feel so good, always make me feel good.”

“Blair, I’m going to crash the car, just sit patiently, please.” She sits back normally in her seat. “Thank you.” He sighs. “So, you really thought of me?”

“It was hard not to with you leaving me breakfast.” She pouts at him. “So sweet of you, and I haven’t had a chance to even reward you for being so good to me.”

“You’re still into all that?” He asks cautiously.

“Only for you…do you still like it?”

“Only if it’s you. I told you I didn’t do that with anyone else.”

“You still trust me enough?”

“Course I do, baby.” He reaches for her hand to intertwine their fingers. He drives a little faster to his place, and they finally reach it. “Gonna take care of you first, and then you can do me, alright?”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

They get up to his place, somehow keeping their hands to themselves in the elevator. Before she knows it, Harry’s slamming Blair against the wall of his front hallway, attacking her neck with his lips.

“Gonna mark you up.” He says as he sucks on her skin. “Then everyone will know you’re taken again.”

She whimpers as her response, and pushes his head further into her neck. She wiggles out of her cardigan, and wraps her arms around his neck.

“Jump.” He grunts into her ear, and she does so, wrapping her legs around his waist so he can carry her to his bedroom. He sets her down on the bed, letting her get her shoes off. He does the same before kneeing onto the bed. She takes her tank top off, and his mouth waters at the sight of the bralette. “Christ.” He breathes as he gropes her supple breasts. “Missed these.” He sucks on her nipple through the lace, and her head rolls back. He does the same to the other one, getting it nice and pebbled. One of his hands slides down between her legs and he whimpers. “Need to get these off you, that okay?”

“Mhm, yeah, please.”

He undoes her button and zipper, yanking the jeans off of her. His eyes widen when he sees the matching panties.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Blair. Are these new?”

“Yeah, bought them today, just for you.” She props herself up on her elbows. “Wouldn’t mind you taking them off, though.”

Harry nearly growls as he tugs them down her legs. His hands slide up and down her smooth skin, having missed the feeling of her skin on his. He spreads her legs apart, and starts leaving open mouthed kisses on her inner thighs, sucking some nasty bruises into them. Blair clutches at his blankets and grits her teeth while he has his fun marking her up.

“Can I?” He asks, looking up at her. “Can I taste you?”

“Yes, of course you can.” She reaches forward to push his hair back, and he smiles at her before licking up her slit.

He licks and sucks all around her folds before working his tongue around her clit, sucking on it briefly before bringing his thumb to it. He licks into her center, making her mewl as he essentially just makes out sloppily with the area.

“Yes, fuck.” Her hands rake through his hair. “Feels so good, Harry.” She grinds against his face, and he moans against her. “Harry, fingers, please, use your fingers.” She whines.

He lifts his head from her, and reaches his hand up to her so she can suck on his fingers. She does so happily, and then he slips two fingers inside her. She gasps and lets her body go slack against the bed.

“Baby, shit, you’re so fucking tight, does it hurt?”

“No, feels so god, m’so wet.”

“I know, you’re dripping.” He pulls his fingers out and sucks on them, moaning again before slipping them back inside to the knuckle.

“R-right there.” She whimpers. Her mouth was open, body writhing under his, having not been touched by another man in almost a year, her body was reacting on overdrive. Her back was arching, and she was pushing her head further into the mattress. “Harry, Harry!” She screams as she comes around his fingers, and he fucks her through it, sucking on her clit to prolong it. As she starts to come down he sits up, and starts taking his shirt off. “Fuck, I’m gonna give it to you so good.” She sits up and watches he takes his clothes off. She takes her bralette off, and tosses it on the floor.

“How do you want me?”

“That depends…um…what would you like me to do? Like, how…how hard do you wanna go tonight?”

“I wanna be able to touch you since it’s been so long, and I wanna be able to look at you.”

“Alright, so we can just keep it sweet and easy, save the rest for another time.”

“Yeah…work back up to it.”

“Get on your back, m’gonna ride you.”

Harry gets himself situated, sitting up against the headboard. Blair raises an eyebrow at him.

“Just wanna be as close as possible tonight, baby.”

“Okay.” She smiles, and gets herself on his lap.

“Are you still on the pill?”

“Mhm, are you okay to not use a condom?”

“Definitely don’t want to. Need feel you.”

“Need to feel you too.”

She grips his hard cock, giving it a few pumps before she guides it inside herself. Her mouth falls open as she feels him stretch her out. Harry looks down and watches as she swallows him whole. They both moan out once he’s full inside her. Her fingernails dig into his shoulders as she gets adjusted to him. His hands squeeze at her hips and ass.

“Shit, Harry.” She presses her forehead to his. “Missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” He cups her cheeks and kisses her as she starts to slowly rock on and off him. His tongue slips into her mouth, and she grips at his back as she kisses him back. “You feel so fucking good.” He says before biting her bottom lip, sucking on it.

She whimpers and moves herself a little faster on him. She grinds herself against him, feeling the friction on her clit start to form. His arms wrap around her back, his fingers digging into her skin.

“Move with me.” She says into his ear before nibbling on it.

He groans as he starts to thrust up into her. She starts to bounce up and down him, moving his hands to her hips. He watches as her breasts bounce in front of his face, and he leans in to kiss and suck on them. Her head rolls back with pleasure. She wanted to feel his tongue all over her. She brings two fingers to his mouth, and he takes them in quickly. He looks up at her as he sucks on them, swirling his tongue around them, and nipping at the pads of them. She takes them away to rub at her clit.

He growls, and moves to pin her on her back, surprising her completely. He was never like this in bed with her. She looks up at him with wide eyes as he throws one of her legs over his shoulder, and replaces her fingers with his own. She groans at his touch. He was driving himself in so much deeper and she could barely handle it.

“Okay?” He asks her, panting slightly.

“Mhm, it’s good, so good.” One of her hands goes to the back of his neck, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss. They breathe each other in and out once they both start panting. “Harry, fuck, I’m so close.” She squeezes around him and he bites down on her shoulder.

“Blair.” He moans into her ear. “Can I come inside you?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, please!” She screams as she’s coming again, feeling even more turned on when she feels Harry’s hot come start to fill her up. She grinds her hips towards his trying to make her orgasm last as long as possible. “Love it when you fill me up, feels so good.” She says as she continues to squeeze around him.

He slots his mouth over hers as they both start to come down. Their tongues mold together as they kiss lazily. He’s slow to pull out, but he was too sensitive to stay inside her any longer. She squeezes her legs closed to try to not make a mess. Harry scoops Blair up quickly bridal style to carry her to the bathroom, setting her down gently on the toilet, and leaving her to do her business. When she walks out of the bathroom, he’s laying on his bed in a fresh pair of boxers with a dreamy smile on his face. She climbs onto the bed and lays in between his legs, resting her head on his tummy. She buries her face into his soft skin while he starts to card through her mussed up hair.

“So…we’re really back together?” He asks after a few moment of peaceful silence. She looks up at him with a smile on her face.

“Yeah, I really wanna be your girlfriend again.”

“You have no idea how happy I feel right now.” He continues to play with her hair as she sets her head back down.

“You’ve never really taken control like that before…I kinda liked it.” She peers up at him again, grinning. “Maybe I should see what being the sub feels like sometime.”

“Oh, baby, I don’t know if I could switch like that. Don’t think I’d get much pleasure in making you wait for things. Think I’d give in the second you asked for something.” He chuckles.

“You’re so cute, Harry, but I understand what you’re saying. I don’t mind being the one to do that stuff when you really need it, babe.” She moves further up his body so she can be closer to his face. “Do you think in a bit when you’re ready to go again we could…bring out some of your ties?”

“Feel like I’m already bloating back up, fuck.” He groans, and kisses her.

“You know what I’ve really missed doing with you?” She says, moving her lips to the shell of his ear.

“What, baby?”

“Fucking that tight hole of yours.” She says lowly, and he whimpers.

“Yes.” He breathes, and she looks at him. “Still have everything, it just hasn’t been used in a while.”

“Would you really wanna get into all of that tonight? I mean, I’m game if you are…you seemed hesitant before.”

“I just wanted to feel really close with you before, but now that we’ve got that out of our system I’m definitely up for it.” He pecks her lips. “We’ve got the rest of the weekend to do all we want.”

“Mmm, and the weekend after that, and the weekend after that, and maybe sometimes during the middle of the week. Oh! Remember when I used to come to your office at work, and I’d let you bend me over your desk, god, that was always so hot.”

“Or that time we screwed in that bathroom at your studio?” His smile was incredibly mischievous.

“Or the times you sit me up on the counter in your kitchen and fuck me?”

“Or the time you bent me over my own desk her here?”

“I think it’s time we make some new memories.” She says, getting off of him, and extending her hand out to him for him to follow.

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

Blair leads them inside Harry’s walk in closet where he kept his box of toys. It was still in the same spot as always. She pops the lid off and they both smile at each other.

“How long do you think I could edge you for?” She asks him.

“Um, I should be okay to go for a while since I already came.”

“Excellent.” She picks up a cock ring, the kind that vibrates. “We’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

#harry styles #When the Time is Right #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #sub!harry #attorney!harry

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years

Text

you’re someone i just want around: V

“I must admit, I thought I’d like to make you mine

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

— Only Angel, Harry Styles

A/N: this chapter...it was probably my fav to write, so far!!! i just adore these two clueless morons so much like i just can’t shut up about them. quite a bit happens in this part and it’s all to build that slow burn, friends to lovers shit we all know and love baYBEEEEE!!! and also The Crew make an appearance because hello we love to see it, we truly do 😌😌😌 especially the man, the myth, the legend, Mitch Rowland and honestly?? this is HIS chapter fuck vampirerry!!! but yeah i hope y’all like what’s in store for the Dynamic Duo this time around and remember that feedback is truly, madly, deeply™ appreciated! and if you enjoy it, please reblog it! spreading content keep creators motivated! without further delay, let’s dive in 😼

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

word count: 34k

content/warnings: witty banter, some nice fluff, jacuzzi sex, more fluff, a very testing phone call, some face f*cking, a soft shower, rough degradation, the return of The Handcuffs, an unexpected visit from The Three Stooges, more cheeky banter because that’s their brand, and the reveal of jealous asshole Harry

///

Y/N giddly accepts Harry’s offer to stay the weekend and the vampire can confidently say it’s one of the best he’s had in the last decade.

He’d startled even himself when the suggestion had risen abruptly from his mouth, leaving him blinking blankly as a result. He rarely allows anyone to spend more than a day in his condo— his friends being the only exception— because he’s grown to like the quiet solitude that comes with living on his own. He very solemnly has people over whom he hasn’t known for at least a few years, and that rule is reinforced on stricter grounds when it comes to humans. Especially when the only true connection they could possibly carry to him is through the area between their legs.

But Harry has become strangely fond of Y/N in the last four weeks— fond enough to freely refer to her as a friend and endeared enough to bypass the fact that she’s mortal. She just looks so unbelievably cute padding around his apartment barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of crumpled, sunflower-doodled panties and his Nike olive green jumper, her hair a mangled mess with traces of his cologne smeared across the bruised skin of her neck. Admittedly, it’s a sight he wants to see more often, which is a stab at his ego because he’s never been one to dwell on sentimentality— not for a while. It’s a bit cliche and gross, in his opinion, but when it comes to this one particular girl...well, maybe it’s not too bad. Indulging some soft pastimes can't do much damage, especially when it aids his plan to keep her interested until he himself grows bored.

It can only do good, which is probably what had spurred him into asking her to extend her stay. For once, he found himself not craving his usual silent seclusion. Not when that self-imposed isolation could be filled with her loud laughter, warm lips, and sweet moans instead.

And much to his satisfaction, Harry gets just that.

For the next two days, the creature gets all of his needs and wants attended to, both recreational and intimate. Y/N seems to enjoy it thoroughly, as well, walking— or rather waddling, really, thanks to some of their raunchier activities— around his flat happily, constantly clad in a pair of his boxers and one of his graphic tees. He gets off on it— it’s hard not to, especially with the way she fits his clothes so effortlessly, almost as if she was made to fill them. Or the way the scent of his shampoo is combed through every strand of her hair, his smell slathered all over her as if she’s unconsciously trying to mark herself as his. Or the way new love bites cover the ones his blood had nearly faded, which she dotes shamelessly by pushing all her hair behind her shoulders so Harry can get a perfect view of every welt he’s left behind on her throat. Or the way she unapologetically giggles at all his jokes and crude humor, and how she paddles his witty banter right back at him with that clever gleam in her irises.

He gets off on the way Y/N cuddles into him on the couch while they’re watching some mindless Food Network series, her body heat expelling the stiff coldness from his limbs. The way she kisses tenderly along the underside of his jaw, forefinger tracing over his Adam’s Apple teasingly, a smile spreading against his skin when she feels it bob heavily. The way she’ll sneak her hand between his thighs and palm him over his briefs, taking the shell of his ear between her teeth and hissing lowly when his cock twitches against her fingers, her voice soft as silk but heavy with dirty intentions. “Want to make you feel good again, H. Can I?”

The human girl is a blessing, while simultaneously being a walking, talking sin, and the monster’s never been more willing to damn himself to Hell. And he would gladly do it, if he wasn’t already living it in the form of blood-driven eternity.

It’s an eventful weekend, that’s for sure, and despite the fact that they share an abundance of memorable moments, there are a few that Harry deems especially unforgettable.

The jacuzzi sex sits at the top of that list.

Y/N had practically squealed when she’d laid eyes on the glorified tub in his bathroom, pacing over to it excitedly and leaning down to run her fingers over the control panel along the rim. Her voice had come out whispered, full of child-like wonder. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Harry had walked over to stand beside her, his icy digits pressing on top of her warm own, finagling the buttons into his preferred settings. Hot water begins to shoot out of all the polished jets one by one, slowly filling the pool and covering the dark marble wrap-around ledge used as seating. The vampire quickly fetches the bag of lavender Epsom salts he keeps close by, scooping a couple handfuls into the frothing hot tub, along with pouring in a decent amount of jasmine bubble bath.

His lips jolt when he catches Y/N eyeing the jacuzzi in awe, her hands clasped to her chest in delight as she teeters back and forth ever so slightly on her heels. The water shuts off once it reaches the appropriate level, leaving behind a thick, luxurious sheet of suds that smells of sugary florals and clean linen. The second the jets retract, Harry doesn’t even have time to make a comment before Y/N begins stripping down hurriedly, obviously restless to take on this new experience.

Harry spontaneously jerks to the side out of habit, averting his sight to allow her some privacy. His tone is soft and amused. “Clean towels are in the hamper along the other side of the tub.” He signals blindly towards where he knows the basket is situated. “Call me back in when you need help with the shower knobs. And don’t—”

The immortal spots something streak across his peripheral vision, cocking his head a bit just in time to see her flower-print panties toss onto the tiled floor. He rolls his eyes playfully, scoffing to himself at the innocence of the article. It matches her persona perfectly.

He hears a splash crack through the air behind him, meaning that Y/N has submerged herself in the water and that it is now safe for him to turn around without threatening her decency. However, he doesn’t think she’d mind if he did and he finds himself wondering why he’d looked away in the first place. The answer comes to him simply: it was a residual mannerism from the era he was raised in. His default Victorian etiquette can be so fucking annoying sometimes.

He spins around on his socked heels, lean arms folding casually across his broad chest, naked tattoos glinting under the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. He slinks his head to the side, entertained at the view he finds. Y/N is sitting amidst the blanket of pink bubbles, covered up to her shoulders as she cups soap into her palms, blowing at it and watching the suds float across the air before popping. The adorable smile that breaks across her face makes Harry’s stomach flutter.

The vampire steps forward to catch her attention, leaning a hip against the edge of the tub and pursing his lips to hide an adoring grin. The corners of his mouth betray him as soon as Y/N looks up at him, hair slicked back with water and bubbles, matted to the sides of her neck and across her jaw as she beams up at him.

“Your place is literally an adult playground.” The human states wistfully, her arms floating across the surface of the bath as she drifts closer to him, creating more suds. “You’re gonna have to get me kicked out tomorrow ‘cause I’m not leaving on my own.”

Harry snorts, ducking down and wiping some soap off the tips of her eyelashes. “I don’t think security detail was part of the lease, so I might have to do it myself.”

“I can easily take you.” Y/N remarks jokingly, waving a hand dismissively. “Better make some space, I’m moving in next week.”

“I’d say I would start clearing out my storage room for you,” Harry leans forward, ghosting his lips over hers and thumbing over the curve of her chin, batting his lashes sultrily, “but I think we both know you’d end up in my bed either way. Best leave it as is.”

“Yeah,” Y/N momentarily glimpses down at his mouth, eyes glitzing with the slightest bit of hunger, “I think it's best if we just split the bed.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely split the bed— split it right down the middle.” Harry grips her jaw firmly and locks her into a wet, sloppy kiss for a few elongated heartbeats, tugging at her bottom lip and biting it jestingly before pulling back.

Y/N chases after him, craving more of his taste, but the boy draws back fully and pats at her cheek with smug finality. Her begrudging pout makes him release a boyish giggle. “Anyways, as I was saying before, my last rule: Don’t pee in the tub. Cleaning it is a bitch and that’s the last thing I want to deal with.”

The mortal laughs airily, nodding her head in confirmation that she understands. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Thank you.” Her friend huffs, shoulders slumping dramatically in relief. Harry takes on a theatrical ominous edge, quirking his brows warningly. “Didn’t end well for the last person who did.”

“Is that so?” Y/N inquires daringly, lowering herself deeper into the water until it covers her chin. “What happened? Did you have to take on the role of executioner again?”

Harry thinks back to that instance, shaking his head in amusement at the memory. It had been Niall— anything that has to do with testing his patience almost always leads to Niall— and to make a long story short, the Irish bloke had ended up having to regrow an ear. But he can’t necessarily confess that supernatural event to Y/N, no matter how funny it is, so he just shrugs offhandedly and gives her a dark look full of faux mystery, voice adopting the same affect. “I’ve already said too much.”

The young woman casts her eyes up to the ceiling humorously. “Moron.”

“Watch it, love.” Harry tuts, narrowing his eyes at her pointedly in an attempt to suppress the smirk that is about to stem from his next comment. “I’m not the one with the degradation kink here.”

Y/N scrunches her face at him mockingly, trying to hide the way his quip had made her heart hiccup. She mimics his accent, sticking up her middle finger from beneath a mountain of rosy bubbles. “Piss off.”

“Gladly.” Harry bites back cheekily in an American accent. He leans down, retrieving his Nike sweater and her underwear from the rumpled pile on the ground, his intentions set on taking them across the hall to the laundry room with the rest of her clothes. That way, her stuff will be nice and clean for when she needs it again Sunday night. “Just call if you need me, yeah?”

Harry gets about three feet towards the door before Y/N’s soft voice halts him, piping up as gentle and timid as usual. “Wait…”

The vampire glances over his shoulder, eyebrows poised in question as he absentmindedly flips his jumper inside-out in anticipation for the wash.

Y/N swims across the extent of the jacuzzi until she’s right in front of where he’d stopped, resting her forearms along the rim and plopping her chin atop her folded hands. She gazes up at Harry through her lashes and he can see the manner in which she shifts her footing beneath the small waves, almost as preparing to stand up from the water. “Don’t go.”

Harry’s eyes go half-lidded in a flat expression as he hangs his sweatshirt over the inside of his elbow. “Didn’t you literally just tell me to piss off five seconds ago?”

“I changed my mind.”

“Well, that’s just too bad. You already hurt my feelings. No take-backs.”

“Idiot.”

“Try again.”

“What’s that one insult British people say? Oh, yeah! Knobhead.”

“You’re really not helping your case here.”

Y/N sighs in exasperation, using her palms to boost herself up until she’s standing fully inside the hot tub. Water cascades down her shoulders and out of her sopping hair, following the curves of her bare torso and trickling across her jaw. She teeters forward until her face is only a few inches away from Harry’s, lulling her head to the side expectantly with a certain slyness swirling around her pupils. She chews on her lower lip as she gives him a suggestive once-over. “How about now? Does this help my case?”

Harry keeps his eyes pinned to her own, refusing to submit to temptation. He knows exactly what she’s trying to do, and he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of allowing it to work. Not yet, at least. He wants her to beg for it.

The creature twists towards her entirely, irises bright with the excitement of a new challenge. Even with the slight elevation the jacuzzi provides, Harry still towers over Y/N at least a good four inches. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough that she has to tilt her chin up to maintain direct eye contact. The tip of his cold nose brushes over hers, eyebrows shrugging tauntingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, darling.”

Y/N reaches forward without breaking their stares, taking the clothes from Harry’s grasp and haphazardly chucking them onto the towel hamper. Now with his arms free, the immortal props his hands onto his hips, his biceps and shoulders flexing with the motions. He’s peacocking to try and intimate her, and in any other circumstance, it would probably work, but Y/N knows she has the upper-hand at the moment; she’s naked and wet and docile, and with the way Harry’s handsome features are hardening in determination, she can tell she’s whittling him down. All it would take is one well-coordinated touch here, a lingering stroke there, and maybe a gentle caress of her lips down the valley of his pectorals…

Y/N goes for something better. She reaches upwards to intertwine her fingers around the nape of Harry’s neck, tugging him closer until their chests meld together, the heat from the water radiating off her waxy skin and sinking into his freezing own. His breathing catches as soon as he feels her pert nipples press into his chest and even though he’s keeping his sight trained on her face, he can just barely see the curves of her breasts less than a foot below. Their close proximity is making them swell upwards, urging him to give in and have his way with her however he wants. And fuck, does he want to. But he’s not going to let her bait him that easily— who would he be if he allowed this human girl to toy with him in such a fashion? Harry never lets anyone puppet him— not anymore, not ever again— and especially not when it comes to sex, which is one of his most skilled domains. He certainly isn’t going to let her win.

Harry grabs Y/N’s wrists from where they are perched around his neck, giving her a hard look that lets her know who’s in charge of the situation. He brings her hands up before her face, flipping them over so she gets a proper view of the faint bruising that lines her flesh, leftover from the previous evening’s restraints. When he speaks, it’s low and throaty with a condescending undercurrent. “Remember what happened last time you acted like a brat?”

Images flash by the forefront of Y/N’s mind like a film on fast-forward, recalling the night to which Harry is referring. The young man had tied her to her headboard and fingered her until she was left a teary mess, refusing to let her orgasm each time she got close. Then, he had tossed the girl onto her tummy and rammed into her from behind until her aged bedframe had nearly splintered. If she focuses intently enough, she can still feel the satisfying ache he had left behind, which had haunted her for days afterwards.

The mortal swallows heavily, nodding her head a tad.

Harry raises an eyebrow with an awaiting air. “Remember what I said about using your words?”

Y/N bobs her head again quickly. After a moment, she realizes her repeated mistake, clearing her throat softly in order to fix it. “Yes.”

“Good.” The vampire drops her hands, coasting his palms up her neck to cup either sides of her jaw, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones almost tenderly. “Now let me ask you again. Do you remember what happened last time you acted like a little brat?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do you want a repeat of that?”

“No, I—” Y/N pauses in hindsight, retracting her previous statement. “Well, actually…”

Harry’s ruby lips string into a coy smirk at her response, well acquainted with where her thoughts are leading. He presses their foreheads together, the damp stickiness of her warm flesh sending a shiver toppling down his spine. “Let me guess. You want a repeat of the part where I shoved your face into a pillow and fucked you until you squirted all over me?”

He can feel blood surge into her cheeks beneath his fingertips as a result of his vulgar words. “Yes, please.”

Harry gnaws along the inside of his cheek as he recalls that event. He can practically feel her gushing around his cock all over again, her walls tightening around him as her whole body trembled in his grasp, her shattered whimpers stinging his ears as he continued to slam into her until she’d completely drenched both of their thighs. His eyelids fall shut in dreamy recollection and an image skims by of his initial rings marked across her ass; it nearly sends his knees out from under him. “Fuck, that was so hot, wasn’t it?”

“So fucking hot.” Y/N sighs shakily, lashes fluttering as his warm breath washes across her tingling mouth. “Harry, I just...I just want to ride you so fucking bad right now.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” Harry touches over her quivering bottom lip, somehow managing to feel her pulse. It’s battering so hard, he could probably sense it through any spot on her body, at this point. “You want me to sit in there with you just so you can bounce on my cock, baby?”

“Please…” Y/N sounds as if she’s on the verge of crying, all of her desperate need translating into her wrecked voice. Her next phrase is something she doesn’t think she’s ever spoken before, but the intensity of the moment just feels so right to test it out, and Harry feels like the right person to test it with. After another heavy gulp and a lick at her dry lips, she chimes up once again, bashful and pliant. “Please, Daddy?”

The sound of a sharp inhale echoes off the marble and porcelain walls of the bathroom, stemming from Harry’s garbled throat. It feels like the temperature in the atmosphere has gone up twenty degrees, invisible flames lapping across the muscles of his taut back and across the tendons of his tight shoulders. His entire body seems to go into shock, lungs stuttering and stomach hollowing out. His lashes snap shut without a heartbeat to spare, webs of black veins materializing over the whites of his eyes as a reaction to Y/N’s brazen comment.

He has been indulging fantasies of her calling him that specific name for weeks now, but had never asked out of respect for her boundaries. He figured that if she had an affinity for it, it would eventually make its way out of her mouth during one of their sessions, and he had been willing to be patient enough to wait. It had paid off, it seems.

Harry releases his grip on the girl’s face, reaching down to messily shove his black briefs down his clammy thighs, eyes flickering open now that he has forced some control into his demeanor. He sets his intent on her expression, the jade of his irises bleeding lust as he catches her gawking at him. Y/N gazes down at where he’s occupied, her lips parting slightly with starved awe as his underwear falls away to pool at his feet, revealing the part of him she has grown so addicted to in the last month. It looks so pretty, with a neatly trimmed pubic area, thick girth, and pleasurable length. She never knew cocks could be appealing, considering she always found their appearance so odd and irrelevant. That is, until Harry. It appears she thought a lot of sexual things irrelevant until Harry.

He kicks away his clothes, nudging at her boiling cheeks with his nose to garner attention, his tone low and inexplicably strained. “Say it again.”

Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against his heaving chest as she gathers her bearings, shuddering with a difficult exhale. She says it a bit louder this time, but still inherently weak, almost as if she’s scared their shadows might overhear. “Please, Daddy?”

Harry’s brows furrow with puncurting desire, a broken groan stirring deep in his lungs. “God, that sounds so good coming from your mouth. Been wanting to hear you say it for ages now.”

“Really?”

He nods fervently, nose bumping hers with every movement and he takes this chance to peek down at her naked figure, swallowing thickly at how incredible her breasts look flushed to his pecs. “Think about it constantly. Always wondered what it would take to get it out of you.”

“I wish you’d just told me.” The human mumbles, tracing his cupid’s bow with the crest of her own. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now.”

Harry chuckles lightly, humming in amusement as he snakes a strong arm around the dip of her spine, drawing her closer as much as possible. He just wants to feel every inch of her wet, velvety skin. “Well, now you can say it all you want. Over and over and over, while I make your knees shake and your back arch.”

Y/N sputters out a bundle of feathery giggles, looping her arms around his neck and carding her fingers into his shiny curls, pulling his lips down to meet hers in a restless kiss full of quiet whines and snippets of laughter. She talks into his mouth, starting to pant as the pace becomes more passionate, full of eager tongues and nipping teeth. “Now will you please get in and let me fuck you?”

Harry mounts one knee onto the edge of the hot tub, his free hand jutting down against the marble for reinforcement as the other keeps her trapped against his body. “Yeah...Yeah, I think I will.”

He crawls into the heated water, submerging up to his waist due to his height. Once he’s balanced himself within the pool, the palm pressed to the brim slips away, replacing the cold stone with the simmering skin of Y/N’s jaw once again. He tangles his fingers into her hair as he nurses her face to the side, deepening their prolonged kiss, and the whimper she pours into his mouth makes every cell in his body throb with longing. Y/N’s hands ride down his lean stomach and over his pelvic bones, fingers twitching the closer she gets to his cock. She stops right before she reaches his base, wracked with the slightest bit of shy hesitation.

“Go ahead, doll.” Harry murmurs softly, hips bucking forward once against the pads of her digits. “I want you to touch me.”

Y/N’s palm disappears below the mounds of bubbles, cupping over his cock and giving it a rough grope. Harry gasps brokenly against her lips at the sensation, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards into a blissful simper when her breathing throttles just a smidge. Y/N gradually begins to work him below the gentle waves of the water, eyes rolling back when she feels him harden in her hold. She’ll never get used to how erotic it is having Harry shatter under her influence.

“I think it's funny,” she begins, voice delicate and humorous, contradicting the insistent actions she’s partaking below, “how you were threatening me with orgasm denial two minutes ago and now you’re being all nice.”

The vampire thrusts slightly against her strokes, tiny noises escaping his taut throat as a familiar boiling begins to simmer in his veins. His tone is detached and pinched with the effort of maintaining composure. “S’hardly a fair point, considering you caught me off guard with that pet name.”

“Is that so?” The girl inquires playfully, giving the tip of his cock a hard squeeze and scoffing against his mouth when he releases a tight grunt.

“Mm. You always…” Harry draws back from her intoxicating mouth, looking down at her over the crests of his tinted cheekbones to admire the faint imprint of his teeth along her swollen lips. His mind feels like it’s been pumped with syrup, thoughts swishing around lazily, his emotions still somewhat exposed from the mishap that had occurred during their breakfast serenade. It had been over two hours ago, but the wound was still fresh in his subconscious, causing small pinpricks of anxiety to stain his otherwise carefree personality. He feels as if his chest had been cut open with a scalpel, his insides had been rearranged out of order, and the gash had been resewn brutishly; he feels disarrayed and defiled. And because of some simple human girl who’s as fragile and insipidly transparent as glass.

The immortal’s voice comes out as a whisper, carrying the weight of his confused, raw state. “You always catch me off guard.”

Y/N blinks up at him innocently, gnawing on her bottom lip at his sweet compliment, her heart somersaulting within her ribcage. “You catch me off guard, too. Always keep me on my toes, which is something I was never really used to.”

“Do you...” Harry forces down the lump in his throat, allowing himself to be vulnerable for the sake of seeking an answer. Though their problems are vastly different— she’s referring to her small-town, conservative mentality, whereas he’s shouldering two hundred years worth of emotional trauma— he’s more than happy to absorb any advice she could possibly offer. He needs to know how to shut this off; he hates feeling so unsure of himself. It’s like he’s wading through a forest blindfolded, disoriented and uncalibrated with no sense of direction or purpose. He hasn’t felt this helpless since… “Do you hate it?”

The mortal’s eyes fall shut, lashes dusting the apples of her cheeks in a way that Harry deems almost ethereal. She shakes her head lightly in his grasp, a hazy smile adorning her face. “Do I hate that you take me out of my comfort zone? I don’t think I do, actually. I like it. I like that every moment we spend together is something new. I was so used to following the status quo and retracing other’s steps, I never noticed how boring it all was. But you’re never boring. You make everything fun and adventurous, and it’s just so...”

Y/N laughs a tad, trying to come up with a word she can’t quite place, too distracted in how her friend’s thumbs are caressing her jaw. The hand she has below the water has stopped its motions all together, her focus placed solely on the young man’s beautiful features. The copper specks in his eyes glitter in the white light of the bathroom, looking like polished amber gems. “Uhm...It’s...It’s so—”

“Scary...but exhilarating.” Harry finishes her sentence, a quivering sigh coaxing out of his tight chest. He feels like he’s going to vomit.

Y/N bobs her head in agreement, hands drifting to wrap around his dainty wrists, giving them a soft squeeze as if to reassure herself that he’s real. “Yeah, that’s it. It’s...exciting, kind of.”

The creature swallows heavily and releases her face, peeling his eyes away from Y/N’s for fear of letting her see him so defenseless, brows creasing in burning unsettlement. Instead, he lends his attention to outlining the speckling of white strewn into the dark marble of the bathroom wall, using that distraction to calm the raging in his belly. Out of the edge of his vision, he can see Y/N’s face fall, the grip she has on his wrists loosening. A spike of pain shoots through his unbeating heart— similar to what he had endured earlier— at the sadness behind her gesture, but he stifles it with stubborn spite. This isn’t him. It hasn’t been for decades now, and he’d grown to like it as so. In his experience, attachment leads to suffering, and suffering leads to misery. And with all of the centuries he has ahead of him, misery is the last companion he needs.

Harry clears his throat emptily, slashing through the tension that had suspended in the air between them. He glimpses down at her, undoing the knot between his eyebrows and putting as much playful ease into his irises as he can muster, urging the corners of his lips into his signature smirk. “I guess we just excite each other, then. Though that’s become pretty obvious by now, I think.”

Y/N purses her mouth to hide the immature grin his innuendo is attempting to weed out, all awkwardness dissipating from her aura. “I guess we do.”

The monster ducks down to flirt his lips over the human’s, arms tying around her lower back and hiking her upwards. Y/N yelps in surprise, instinctively clamping her legs around his waist and giggling as he lugs her from side to side jokingly, pretending he’s about to drop her into the pool. “Why don’t we go back to exciting one another, hm?”

Y/N’s nose rubs across the bridge of Harry’s and she gasps lightly when she feels the head of his cock prod at her entrance, dipping in a bit to tease her, spreading her open just enough to wheedle a soft hiss. She shivers in his arms despite the heat wafting up from the warm water, a very different type of warmth pouring into the area between her legs. The girl clings to the sides of the English boy’s neck, spinning a damp curl around her forefinger— he’d gotten his hair wet when he’d splashed into the jacuzzi, and the manner in which his ringlets are gluing across his flexing neck and sharp jaw is doing her in.

She gives a small nod, eyes flickering down to his tempting lips and back up at his devious gaze. “Yeah, alright.”

In Harry’s expert opinion, it’s safe to say they definitely excite each other. It’s pretty evident in the way their bodies mold perfectly, satisfying their own desires while simultaneously fulfilling the other’s. The vampire ends up sitting on top of the ledge that circles the inside wall of the pool, his head hanging over the edge with his mouth parted in an open grin, filthy moans and needy whines pouring from his tongue freely as Y/N rocks onto his slick cock. The girl balances herself on her knees, backside crashing down against his thighs in harsh slams full of reckless urgency— she needs this more than she’d ever care to admit. Her nails dig into Harry’s strong shoulders for stability, head thrown back in sheer bliss as her chest bounces with every thrust, the trench of her tummy rippling with contented heat. He just makes her feel so fucking full.

“God, y-you’re so big.” Y/N mewls, swinging her hips in small circles that draw an array of fractured sounds of pleasure from Harry’s taut throat. “You stretch me out so fucking good, Har.”

Harry’s hands tighten into fists against the glossy plastic of the jacuzzi, arms slung casually over the sides of the tub in a relaxed posture. He doesn’t want to bother with taking control at this particular moment; he’s too busy reveling in the ecstasy Y/N is pounding into his system. He jolts with every rough dip of her hips, the corners of his raw lips winking his dimples awake as he looks up at her through barely-cracked eyes, the weight of his mounting orgasm heavy on his lashes. “Love that cock, don’t you? Can tell by the way you always kiss it right before you take it down your throat.”

Y/N grapples onto her friend's neck blindly, one palm grasping the center of his jugular as the other cradles his defined jaw, her thumb smearing across his lips as a result of her choppy movements. Harry cranes his head forward a bit to get a better view, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of her finger as an appreciative thrum rumbles against the hand she has covering his Adam’s Apple. “You look so beautiful when you fuck me all desperate like that.”

Y/N whimpers as she swivels against his lap eagerly, driving herself towards a climax that she knows will leave her utterly ruined. Harry glances down to where their centers meet below the water, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he peers through the violently sloshing waves and frothy suds, watching Y/N glide over him easily now that she’d gotten used to his size. He leans forward, slowly planting a trail of suckling kisses up the center of his friend’s tummy and over the valley of her chest, looking upwards through his long lashes and smiling lewdly into her flesh every time her walls squeeze at the action. She’s so snug around him, he’s convinced no one could ever fit him this well.

His words come out as a raspy growl. “You’re such a tight little thing. Never get tired of that perfect cunt. S’like you were made to take me this deep.”

Y/N collapses forward, her grip shooting up to trade his face with his drenched curls. She sponges her mouth messily over his, gasping onto his tongue as the motions of the water batter against her sensitive clit. Her brows cinch with hunger, tone pleading. “Touch me. Please? Want— Want your hands on me while I ride you.”

Harry shakes his head tauntingly, licking across her top lip and teething at the crescent above it. “I don’t think so, angel. I like seeing you do all the work, for once. You look so good using me to get yourself off.”

The girl fists at his hair almost cruelly, her sanity gradually slipping. “But I...I like it when you use me, too.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware.” The vampire muses arrogantly, spreading his meaty thighs wider so that her strokes have a more profound impact. His position works as intended, seen in how Y/N slows for a second when she sinks down to the hilt, a breathy, “Fuck, that’s so deep.” scraping past the cracks of her gritted teeth.

Harry bucks upward symbolically, signaling for her to regain her rhythm; one look at his dominantly smug expression has her abiding instantly. He lays his head against his bare shoulder, studying every clench of her belly and every heave of her breasts, etching this picture into his extensive list of memories. His voice flows out as thick and silky as molasses. “I just can’t get enough of watching you make yourself cum around my cock.”

“I j-just want you to fuck me.” Y/N is nearly sobbing, her fingertips carving into his scalp as she kisses over his colored cheeks and tinged nose, trying to swindle him into giving her what she wants. “I’ll do anything you want. Promise.”

“Always so willing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles darkly, groaning lightly when she suddenly tenses around his length. He can feel his nails breaking the skin of his palms as his fists contract. “You want me to make you scream, is that it? Want Daddy to pound you until you can’t stand anymore?”

Hearing him refer to himself that way sends electricity coursing down her spine. “Want it so bad.”

The creature reaches up with his index finger and brushes a sopping strand of hair out of Y/N’s face, tucking it behind her ear and tracing down her cheekbone admiringly. After a few seconds of thought, he appraises her with a decision, licking across his top teeth and pressing his tongue along the inside of his cheek teasingly. “Let’s make a deal, then. How about you get yourself right on the edge for me, and then I’ll flip you around and finish you off. Sound fair?”

Y/N doesn’t need to be told twice. She regains her previous stride with more fervor and speed, hellbent on pushing herself to the seam of climax so she can let Harry take the reins. The young man watches her with sinful intent tainting the emerald of his irises, the golden smudges around his pupils glinting blood red for a single heartbeat. He decides he’ll lend his expertise just once, extending his arm and fiddling with the settings on the control panel of the hot tub, preparing a surprise he knows his guest will thoroughly enjoy.

When the jets suddenly rumble to life, Y/N’s jumps in shock, the loud sound startling her clouded brain. But then two concentrated streams of water hit her right between her legs and she nearly faints as newfound bliss erupts through every fiber of her being. The insistent spray toys with her clit in a fashion that is indescribable, revving her closer to release as the overwhelming sensation pairs with the rapture Harry’s cock is hammering into her. She won’t last long, and he knows it.

The monster eyes her reaction attentively, his forefinger lulling upwards across the water-proof screen of the controls, raising the intensity of the jets. The fragmented moan that betrays the human goes right to his core. He then slides his finger back down, reducing the powerful force to softer bursts. Y/N whines in protest against his mouth, begging him to set it higher like before. And Harry does, giving her exactly what she craves with one easy swoop. Y/N’s forehead falls against his jaw, her shallow breaths puffing down his collarbones and heating his icy skin.

“Shit, that’s so—so— fuck!”

Harry continues to play with the settings, teasing her with waves of strong geysers and gentle trickles. Soon enough, he’s perched behind her, her back sticky against his wet chest as she holds herself up on her knees against the marble seat, hands clamped around the metal railing that runs the circumference of the pool. The pole helps her brace his unforgiving pace, her entire body jerking forward with every ram of his hips as small hiccups of pleasure float across the fogged air of the bathroom. Harry takes the shell of her ear between his teeth, biting down with no remorse as Y/N pushes back to meet his adamant thrusts, his coral-lacquered digits sifting between her own around the polished metal. She gets a bleary glimpse of the cross tattoo inked onto his hand as she can’t help but snort softly at the irony.

“Is something funny, love?” Harry’s deep baritone causes chills to wring down her arms.

“Your cross tattoo,” Y/N chokes out, a soft grunt interrupting her sentence as the head of the boy’s prick nudges the pit of her abdomen, “it’s just so ironic.”

It is ironic. Harry had gotten it for that sole purpose— to mock the fact that he was deceased. He didn’t get to have a tombstone, so this is the next best thing: a symbolic one, of sorts, sketched into his skin for the rest of his undead life. A bit morbid, but he quite fancies dark humor, given what he is.

However, he knows Y/N finds it ironic for much different, much unholier reasons.

“You wanna know what’s really ironic?” Harry quips, bottoming out harshly and cooing into the back of her neck when the mortal’s shoulders give a spasm in response. His tone is a mocking whisper. “That such an innocent-looking thing like you loves the idea of being my shameless little whore.”

Y/N’s cheeks boil at his explicit comment, a delicate whimper striking her vocal chords. One of Harry’s hands leaves its post on top of hers, tangling into her wet locks and giving her hair a ruthless yank. He guides her head into the nook between his shoulder and neck, spitting his next words out against the thundering pulse in her temple.

“You’re nothing but Daddy’s little filthy fucking slut. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Y/N nods frantically in his authoritative grasp, struggling to swallow due to the combination of his unyielding tempo and erotic statements.

Harry twists her hair around his knuckles, drawing a broken mewl from her raw lips as his teeth skim along the top of her cheekbone. “Words. Now.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Say it.”

“I’m...I’m your filthy little slut.”

Harry scoffs in entertained disbelief at how willing she is to submit to him, pecking a kiss to the corner of her eye and tasting a salty tear across his tongue. He redirects her head forward, grinning into the side of her scalp. “You should see the way you smile when you say it.”

Y/N can’t help it. It just feels so right with him— she feels oddly safe, knowing that what they share is something neither of them will ever give to anyone else. Their arrangement is one of a kind; they fit each other so flawlessly, nobody could ever possibly come close. And she doesn’t want anyone to try— doesn’t want anyone attempting to replace him. Harry just fills the gap perfectly, and she wouldn’t dream of letting another man do what he does to her. Not when she has Harry near, willing to mumble as many graphic promises into her ear as she wants, all while he fucks a sweltering throb into the area between her thighs.

The human girl finds herself wishing this could last an eternity. Little does she know that if it wasn’t for her mortal ignorance and Harry’s better judgement, it very well could.

///

Later in the day, Harry vaguely recalls how the week prior he had made a passing joke to Y/N about how her sexual drive matches that of a rabbit. What happens in the evening makes him stand by that comment.

They order in Chinese for dinner, and Y/N insists on eating out on the balcony, wanting to get a perfect view of the sun setting over the city skyline. She has never experienced the phenomenon from such a pristine view.

Harry allows it, but only after parenting her into putting on a jacket to avoid catching a cold, sending her back into the condo in search of one as he sets out their meal atop the multicolored glass table outside. Humans are so sensitive, and the last thing he needs is his booty call nearly dying from a case of the sniffles.

She comes back out clad in his patchwork cardigan, wrapping it around her body snugly as she sits with her legs crossed on the patio chair, fitting her box of takeout into the hole created by her thighs. The fluffy knitwork had been the first coat she had found hanging in his humongous closet, and she’d thrown it on without a second thought, too caught up in the excitement of getting to see such a picturesque sight in real life. It’s warm and smells of Harry’s vanilla tobacco cologne, along with hints of other scents, like his chamomile and mandarin shampoo and spiced deodorant. She’d been more than happy to inhabit it.

Harry isn’t sure why, but seeing her sitting across from him on his balcony in a pair of his maroon plaid Calvin Klein boxers, his Keith Harrington Safe Sex t-shirt, and blanketed within his oversized rainbow cardigan, all while her hair falls across her face and tickles her jaw… It makes a fond smile buckle his cheeks, though he manages to tame it quickly.

They chat casually as they eat, sharing silly stories and experiences as they pick at their stir-fry, taking periodic sips of the cranberry juice Harry keeps stocked in his fridge. He doesn’t know the science behind it— though he highly doubts there’s any valid scientific explanation behind the magic that runs through his supernatural veins— but he’s come to find that cranberries help curb his cravings. It’s why he always has a liter on hand.

Y/N informs Harry on how her work week had gone, and about how one of her friends back home had gotten engaged recently. She says it all seems so surreal and that she doubts the girl will actually go through with it, which makes the monster burst into laughter, much to her confusion. Harry thinks that this is probably the first time he’s ever seen Y/N be so blatantly pessimistic; it’s strangely comical. Just hearing her opinion on the situation is enough to send anyone into a cackle fit, especially when she says it with such a straight face. “Yeah, I just don’t think she’ll do it. She says she loves him, but she always used to complain about his foot fetish, and I’m pretty sure she’d go insane if she had to put up with that for the rest of her life.”

Harry wards off another bundle of giggles, pursing his twitching lips and bobbing his head once in understanding, using his chopsticks to pop a piece of fried duck into his mouth. “That’s a valid reason to abandon anyone at the altar, if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I know, right? She told me he likes sucking whipped cream off her toes and, like, not to kinkshame, because I obviously have my own weird shit going on—”

“Yeah, I can attest to that.” Harry shrugs his eyebrows suggestively, picking a small chunk of broccoli off his utensil and smirking as he chews slowly. “Decently weird, actually.”

Y/N gifts him a deadpan expression, shoving a piece of veggie dumpling into her mouth and choosing to ignore his dig. “Anyways, I feel like that one is just on a whole other level. Like...what the fuck?”

Harry shares an anecdote about his own friends, as well, feeling that if he doesn’t open up at least a smidge, she'll start becoming suspicious. He recounts the time when he and Mitch had snuck into a Fleetwood Mac concert and met Stevie Nicks, though he’s careful enough not to tell her the date the event had occurred. He just lets her deduce it was one of their more recent tours, when in reality, it had been back in the eighties. The other detail Harry leaves off is the fact that he had tried to seduce Stevie, emphasis being on “tried.” It hadn’t stuck, unfortunately, and what had made the experience even more mortifying is that his idol had taken an interest in Mitch instead. Harry’s ego has yet to recover from that blow; first, because Mitch had the sheer gall to reject the celebrity on the grounds that he wasn’t looking to get involved in any public scandals, and secondly because his best friend refuses to ever let him live it down. “Hey, remember when we met Stevie Nicks and she wanted to fuck me instead of you? Good times, man.”

When the sun finally begins to dip over the horizon, their conversation dies off, replaced by the serene sounds of distant traffic and a light wind picking up as the temperature begins to drop for the night. Y/N stares at the sky in childish wonder as the bright blue starts to darken, streaking with mellow oranges, pastel purples, and buttery yellows, the colors painting across the clouds and giving the bustling city a timeless quality that can only be truly appreciated firsthand. A small, dreamy smile spreads across Y/N’s lips as the gorgeous canvas reflects off the glossy surface of her irises, her legs drawn up to her chest with her arms hugging her knees. She gazes wistfully over the place she has now grown to call home, taking in all it has to offer for the first time in two months, feeling oddly at ease despite the fact that she usually feels lonely wandering its streets.

The mixture of drunken hues casts a hazy glow across her skin and hair, dim stars beginning to twinkle in space as the moon makes its debut. Y/N delights herself with watching the scene unfold, surveying the endless stretch of sky and soaking in its natural beauty. And as Y/N stares across Los Angeles during one of its most breath-taking moments, Harry finds himself staring at her instead.

Once darkness has soaked across the skyscrapers and roads of California for the night, Y/N and Harry turn in, as well. They end up splayed across Harry’s leather couch, entertaining a new episode of Sugar Rush on the ninety-inch flat screen mounted on his glass wall; it’s simply in order to take up the last couple of hours left before bed. By some inexplicable miracle, the vampire had managed to actually fall asleep last night after he and his visitor had finished their regularly scheduled activities. He doubts he’ll be that lucky tonight, but he has no choice but to play the part for the sake of keeping up appearances.

Maybe if the universe is feeling exceptionally generous, the human will fall asleep while they’re watching TV and Harry can just carry her up to his room without having to put on an act. It’s a favorable alternative to having to fake sleep until she gives into fatigue; lying awake with his eyes closed for an hour would make him feel as stupid as Niall’s golfing addiction.

However, it appears that for the time being, Y/N has other plans to bring forward some tried and true exhaustion.

There’s nothing particularly sexual about the fashion in which their bodies are pressed together at the moment, given that it’s a pretty innocent snuggling position. Harry is slumped against the backrest of the sofa with his feet propped on his coffee table, comfy in a pair of black jogging shorts and a vintage Rolling Stones tee. Y/N is nestled into his torso beside him, her head burrowed into his chest with his arm slung nonchalantly across her shoulders and down her back, legs intertwined with his. She had done it out of instinct and Harry doesn’t really have an issue with the gesture; she’s warm and soft and the soothing action of her socked foot running up and down his calf helps him unwind from the day’s events. He likes this, he decides. She smells like him— with her usual scent of honey and lavender permeating through— and she’s decked out in his clothes, aimlessly doodling figures onto his tummy as they enjoy the baking show in comfortable silence. It’s strangely mellow.

Y/N is the one who instigates, as usual. Humans are so horny, it’s ridiculous. But he benefits from this specific mortal’s libido, so he’s not complaining.

It starts with her drifting upwards from where she’d been tracing over his butterfly tattoo, her warm fingers stroking over the prominent structure of his clavicle, her eyes flickering up to gauge his reaction. Harry doesn’t move an inch, face maintaining a curtain of calm indifference. He figures she’s just extra touchy, as she normally is. Then the pads of her digits skim across the side of his throat and an impulsive flare of panic pricks the back of his skull, but it quickly dissolves, as it tends to do now around her. She’s the only person in the last two centuries who has managed to touch him there without inciting a rampage.

Y/N coasts across the nape of his neck, twirling a baby curl around her forefinger distractedly, giving it a small tug in the manner she knows he likes. Harry’s body tightens for a split second and she bites into her lower lip to muffle a mischievous grin. She stretches up, dusting a lingering peck to the curve right behind his ear, running her nose across the shell tenderly. The vampire shifts slightly in his seat, the feathery sensation beginning to weigh at the pit of his stomach. She’s teasing him, and it’s working.

The mortal flushes her puckered mouth fully to the side of his jugular, rubbing the ridges of her skin over one of the veins chiseling into existence, right over the area where a heartbeat used to lie. Harry’s hand balls into a fist against the dip of her spine, itching to grip onto something to keep his cool. Preferably, her throat.

When Y/N finally speaks, the hot breath of her words makes his cock twitch against his thigh. “Wanna kiss a bit?”

Harry cranes his head to look at her, eyebrows jumping up in amusement. “You wanna make-out? What are we, fourteen?”

The girl gives him an impassive pout and glances indicatively towards the armrest of the couch, where they had sat the evening prior while admiring his art wall. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night.”

Harry presses his lips together into a playful simper. She makes a valid point. “Well, I was horny last night. Wasn’t in my right mind.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his juvenile answer.

“And you’re not now?” She prods softly, her gaze slinking down to his spread thighs, almost as if to check if he’s hard. Harry snorts as her action and she bats her lashes up at him with fake innocence, muscling down the sly smirk threatening to emerge across her face.

“Not really, but maybe I could be…” The creature glimpses at her colored mouth for a heartbeat, reaching a hand up and pushing his air-dried ringlets back from his forehead, lips twitching coyly. “Persuaded.”

Y/N leans forward, buttoning their mouths for a fleeting moment. She pulls back a tad, ghosting the crescent of her top lip over his to try and compel him. “Please?”

“Mm,” Harry licks at the corner of his mouth, eyes half-lidded tauntingly, “I don’t think that was enough. Show some team spirit, will you?”

The girl gifts him another kiss, this one longer and more intense, a palm making its way to cup his jaw. “Please, H?”

He’s begun to pant lightly, hand flattening across the small of her back as if to guide her somewhere. He blinks down at her smugly, gnawing into his cheek. “You’re not quite there. Maybe a little more.”

It turns out one more kiss is enough to convince his metaphorical meter. Y/N ends up perched in his lap, both of his large hands groping at her ass as she clutches the back of his neck, their lips sewn together in a filthy kiss full of gentle whines and impatient tongues. It’s going pretty great, and Harry thinks that Y/N is probably one of the most fun people he’s ever had the pleasure of kissing. Her mouth is as sweet as the sugary scent she always dotes, she ebbs and flows to his movements seamlessly, and the enthusiasm she carries makes every nerve in his body fizzle. The noises she makes are incredibly satisfying, as well. All her needy mewls and delicate whimpers string right down to his groin.

After a few minutes of dry humping and jesting bites placed on overzealous lips, Harry boosts himself up from his relaxed position, feet knocking off the coffee table as an arm snakes around her hips. He sits forward, extending his free hand and waving it around blindly, too occupied to willingly break their embrace. He refuses to pull away, especially when she’s gluing such dirty moans to the roof of his mouth. His palm swings across the air stubbornly until it finally slaps down against the marble surface he’d been searching for, his grip tightening around its rim for confirmation. He proceeds to scoot the counter forward, intent on laying Y/N out on top so he can get on his knees against his furry carpet, get his boxers down her velvety legs, and get his head bobbing between her quivering thighs.

Harry’s plan is about to pan out ideally until a high-pitched shriek cuts through the tense ambiance of the room.

Y/N cracks their kiss, gasping and heaving as her head whizzes from side to side, looking for the origin of the annoying trill that had interrupted their playtime. “What—What is that?”

The vampire glances over his back towards where the ruckus is stemming, the insistent chime grating his heightened ears. He spots the culprit immediately, releasing an irritated groan as a result: his phone.

From his spot on the edge of the couch, Mitch’s contact picture blazes across the screen. Harry loves that photo of his best friend— the way his emotionless expression and skinny middle finger are directed towards the camera makes it a wonderful shot— but he really wishes he didn’t have to see it right now. He has other more pressing matters. Literal pressing matters, if the tent in his mesh shorts is any indication.

“Just ignore it.” Harry murmurs, turning back to slam their lips together once again. Y/N obliges without a second thought, happily re-engaging her previous activity of smudging her cupid’s bow across her friend’s as he stretches her out across the table

Ignoring it works the first time. And the second. But by the third call, Harry has no choice but to break away with an exasperated grunt, his brittle patience forcing him to handle the blaring ringtone.

He slides his thumb across the screen roughly, bringing it to his ear as he slumps back into the couch cushions, holding up a finger towards Y/N apologetically and mouthing a quick, “It’ll be just a second.”

His guest nods in understanding, letting her head fall back against the cold marble and distracting herself by counting all of the lightbulbs situated at the peaks of the chandeliers above.

Harry turns his focus to the person on the other end of the phone line, voice snipped with aggravated anger. “What?!”

“Whoa, okay… That’s no way to talk to the elderly. Take it down a notch, Grumpy. Didn’t Snow White teach you any manners?”

The monster takes a deep breath to keep his rage in check, gritting out his words through bared teeth. “I’m fucking busy right now. What do you want?”

“Oh, well, I’m so sorry to be a bother, My Lord. I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you have all your stuff packed for tomorrow. Y’know, like the good friend I am.”

Harry blinks blankly, all indignation flooding out of his system, replaced by utter confusion. “You wanted to check if I’m...? For what? Why would I need to pack?”

There’s a pause on Mitch’s end, as if the man is waiting for Harry to come to the conclusion himself, static filling the speaker. When it’s obvious the younger vampire is clueless, his best friend elaborates slowly. “For the trip. The Vegas trip. The one we take every year around the same time. The one that we all agreed we’d roadtrip in your car tomorrow.”

Harry’s eyes widen in realization, his entire face paling. Fuck.

“The trip.” He mumbles, the fingers of his free hand coming up to rub at his temples worriedly as his mistake dawns on him. “God, I completely forgot about it.”

“You can’t be serious.” Mitch deadpans, a long sigh following his comment. “Harry, you’re the one that booked the hotel this time. How could you possibly forget?”

“I…” Harry glances over at Y/N as guilt weighs into his demeanor. The girl meets his gaze, smiling sweetly and waving, completely unaware of the horrific ordeal he’s gotten himself into by inviting her over. “I got caught up with something.”

A humorless snort crackles through the stereo of his phone, Mitch’s voice tinged with irked disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what you’ve been saying for the last four weeks now every time you bail on us. I just figured you’d get your head out of your ass for this one, but I suppose I spoke too soon.”

Harry drags his palm down his face, gripping his chin in thought. “I’m sorry. Genuinely. I didn’t mean to let it slip, I’ve just been so occupied during the last couple of weekends that—”

“That you forgot about our yearly trip. How nice. Just perfect.”

“Mitch, I know I fucked up, alright? But what if—”

The immortal’s solution gets cut short when out of his peripheral vision, he sees Y/N climb off the coffee table and onto the carpet below. Harry’s words lodge in his throat as he watches the girl crawl on all fours across the ground towards him, a cheeky smile ticking the corners of her lips as her irises glimmer schemingly. Shit.

“‘What if’ what?”

“What if...Uhm…” Harry finds himself struggling to keep his end of the conversation going, the reason being that Y/N has now reached the edge of the sofa where he resides. She sits back onto her heels, walking her fingers teasingly across his knees and grasping them with her palms, parting them open widely. “I…”

“For fuck’s sake, H, what are you trying to say?” Mitch snaps; even through the distance, he can feel its bite.

Y/N nuzzles herself between Harry’s opened legs, a hand riding up one of his thick thigh as she sponges wet kisses to his kneecap, grinning into his skin when her fingers duck under the material of his shorts. His cadence comes out strained with the effort of keeping up an unfazed front. “What if I— what if we switch the reservations?”

“How do you mean?”

The human’s fingers travel up the length of his inner thigh, sneaking below his cotton briefs and giving the tip of his semi-hard cock a gentle caress. Harry writhes in his seat, watching with bated breath as Y/N draws her forearm back out from beneath his clothes, her middle finger covered in a bead of precum— a result of all the grinding they’d done while kissing. She locks eyes with him and pushes the digit past her swollen lips, sucking off the small droplet while her lashes flutter in pleasure. She moans softly, his familiar saltiness always so welcomed. Her next whisper is sultry and needy. “You taste so fucking good.”

Harry swallows down a groan and his voice suffers the consequences, coming out shaky and high. “Like...Like what if we switch out the n-names. I could call the hotel and put the rooms under your info instead.”

Mitch is quiet for a second, mulling over his friend’s offer. The instance is long enough for Harry to reach forward and snatch Y/N’s wrist, giving it a dominant squeeze as a scolding grimace dips the ends of his lips and furrows his brows. He mouths his words slowly with an ominous hue, making sure she interprets the message. “That’s enough.”

Y/N twists herself free of his hold, eyes gleaming in challenge. She talks softly as to not be heard through the phone, but she might as well be screaming thanks to Harry’s supernatural hearing abilities. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you really not going, then?”

The gentle tone of Mitch’s question snaps Harry back into reality. He feels bad for flaking on his crew, but he doesn’t really have a choice at this point. Y/N is already here per his request, and kicking her out would be extremely dickish, even by his standards. “I’m booked the rest of the weekend, mate. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Y/N proceeds to grab onto the elastic band of Harry’s shorts, pulling the front down to expose the clothed bulge that lies beneath. A soiled patch has formed over the material of his underwear, and he can see her irises twinkle in satisfaction, which causes the faint burning in his veins to intensify. The girl palms him through the fabric, preening at the low, tight grunt that escapes Harry’s flexing throat. A shiver pin-balls down his spine and he tries to grab at her forearm to wrench it away from between his legs, but Y/N is determined to work him into a mess, simply groping him more intently and giggling lightly when his hips thrash in response.

“Alright, I guess that settles it. I’ll just tell the group we’re taking Niall’s car instead, and that Adam and I will take turns driving. Just get the lodging handled, will you?”

“‘Course, I got it, don’t worry.” Harry chokes out, reaching a hand towards Y/N’s hair in a desperate attempt to get a hold of her, but she ducks to evade him. She tugs down his final layer of protection, her mouth immediately finding its way to his large cock and giving it one long lap from base to tip, staring up at him mockingly from beneath heavy lashes. She grasps it in both of her palms, gifting it a few quick pumps and spitting over the head sloppily, rubbing the slit across her bottom lip as she quirks her brows at him in a dare.

The vampire fails to ward off the fracture in his composure this time. “Christ, you’re such a fucking sl—”

He stops himself before he finishes the graphic statement, remembering that everything he says is being directly broadcast to someone else on the other end of his phone. Someone who’s oblivious to the filth currently taking place on Harry’s side of the call. “I’m on it, yeah? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait.”

Harry is at the verge of tearing his hair out, his tone teetering at the cusp of sanity. “Yeah?”

“Would you mind telling me why you’re not going? I feel like everyone at least deserves an explanation, especially since you’re dipping on the plans literally the day before.”

The young man quickly clears his throat, forcing himself to keep control as he watches the mortal stick her entire tongue out to run his cock up and down its expanse. “I’ll—I’ll explain when you come back.”

The textured surface sends zaps of lightning surging through every crevice of Harry’s body, but he somehow enables restraint, as weak as it may be. He silently warns Y/N once again about her actions, carding his fingers into her hair and digging the pads into her scalp. “Stop.”

“Also, why are you breathing so hard? What are you even up to right now?”

The human ignores his command, blowing over the leaking hole of his prick and giving it a playful kiss.

“I’m— fuck— I’m...I’m on the treadmill.”

Mitch goes quiet for a heartbeat. “You don’t have a treadmill.”

Y/N tosses her hair over her shoulder, leaning down to rest her cheek along Harry’s inner thigh, giving him the perfect angle to view what she’s about to do. She presses her head forward, slipping his entire cock down her throat and gagging when it hits a sensitive spot in the back, her nails raking down his twitching tummy. She keeps him there for an elongated moment, allowing her walls to tighten around his length just how he likes it, toying with his swollen balls and moaning quietly around his prick. He can feel the vibrations burrow into the marrow of his bones.

“I told you to stop.” He doesn’t even bother mouthing his words this time, mood dark and cautious. He can hear Mitch exclaim in confusion through his speaker, but it’s the last thing on his mind right now.

Y/N’s watery eyes dance with a devious gleam as she grins around his girth, removing him just enough so she can breath properly, rubbing his bubbling tip along the inside of her silky cheek. Her phrase is muffled, but it’s clear enough to completely shatter him. “Make me, Daddy.”

Harry’s features harden. He’s done playing games.

He directs his attention to the microphone, voice calm and collected to the point where it’s frightening, all the tension and instability crumbling to ash. His brows crease dangerously, accent thicker than she’s ever heard it. “I have to go.”

“Harry—”

“I’ll text you after I fix the booking.”

The device beeps and the call ends, the phone falling face-down onto the couch.

The vampire roughly jerks Y/N back by her hair, sitting forward until their noses brush, his cold touch sending a prickling across her cheeks and ears. He addresses her with the same type of undisturbed patience he’d shown his friend, aura teeming with quiet power.

“Get up. Now.”

Y/N ends up with her back pressed into the couch cushions, Harry suspended above her with his knees on either sides of her hips, his cock ramming down her throat harshly as he guides her head with his knuckles twisted into her roots. He’s thrusting forward to meet her mouth, the emerald around his pupils electric with a type of carnal dominance that makes heat pour into her belly. She’s gazing up at him with water streaming freely out of her eyes and spit dripping down her chin, her hands fisting at the leather of the sofa as he fucks her face unrelentingly.

“You think that little stunt was cute? You think teasing me like that was fun?” He growls as he peers down at her, ramming past her raw lips with no remorse, swimming in the damp choking sounds that bounce back from the furniture in the room. “Open wider. Wider.”

She obeys.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To have me down your throat while you gag around it until you can barely breath? To choke on it while you take that heavy load and swallow every drop?”

Y/N bobs her head feverishly, unable to form any coherent sentences due to his violent pace.

The grip Harry has on the crown of her head tightens, his other hand cupping the back of her skull to push her deeper down his shaft, her nose smearing over his happy trail as his heavy balls bump against her slobbery chin. “Take that fucking cock, then. Take every inch like the filthy fucking brat you are.”

Y/N’s blurry eyes lull shut, the edges of her stinging mouth curving upwards as he hits every single one of her desires with a skill only he possesses. She doesn’t know why— or if it’s even healthy, at this point— but she’s never felt more pleasure than when she’s at Harry’s disposal. She just loves seeing him come undone for her.

“God, you like that, don’t you? Like being my little plaything?” The grin dimpling Harry’s cheeks is so utterly erotic and sinful, Y/N feels like she’s damning her soul just by glimpsing at it. He delicately thumbs tears off her cheekbones, contradicting his other much less tame motions. “Baby just wants to feel Daddy cum down her throat, doesn’t she?”

Stars begin spotting the girl’s vision, her mind vignetting as a fulfilling ache settles into her jugular. She nods her head drunkenly, coughing dryly as her lungs rattle with shallow inhales.

Harry gives an exceptionally hard stroke, holding her in place and feeling her constrict around him, her nails digging into the aged leather of his sofa. He takes a pause, broad chest heaving as his head falls back to hang between his shoulder blades, the golden light of his chandeliers reflecting off the red shade inking his irises. His climax begins to tip into his blood. “Say it. Be a good girl and say, ‘please cum for me, Daddy.’”

Y/N’s voice floats out raspy and trembling as she ogles up at the monster wishfully, her ability to speak absolutely frayed from the exertion she’s been put through. Her sentence is barely comprehensible given her full mouth, but watching her try is what gets Harry off. “P-Please cum for me, Daddy.”

Thick ribbons of warmth suddenly erupt down her throat, coaxing a series of garbled moans to pour from Harry’s chest. His whole body tightens as an orgasm floods his system, the muscles of his back drawing taut, his defined biceps jolting, and his lean abdomen clenching in ecstasy. His fern tattoos ripple over his tanned skin as he gives a few more deep strokes for good measure, milking himself to completion and drinking up the tiny noises of sensitivity Y/N makes. He finishes dishing the punishment she’d earned, delivering burst after burst of cum just as he’d promised, feeling her flex around his slick cock as she eagerly swallows every spurt.

“Every last bit, baby. All of it. Christ, that’s my fucking girl. ”

The boy cranes his neck forward again, taking in her disheveled appearance and humming in needy appreciation. Her hair is a disaster from all of his tugging, her eyes are puffy and red, and her lips are flushed and plump. There’s trails of dried tears tracing her cheeks and across her jaw, the collar of her borrowed shirt is soggy with spit, and he can just barely make out the damp patch she’s stained into his boxers along the insides of her thighs. She’s fiddling with her fingers across her lap, continuously shifting around in her seat and clamping her legs together, and Harry comes to the realization that she’s trying to ride the seam of his briefs in order to get a spoonful of relief.

In his sexually demented opinion, she’s looks like a proper angel.

Harry gradually withdraws himself from her mouth, watching with empty content as she sputters into a coughing fit and gulps down air as if she hasn’t had it for weeks. She wipes at the lower half of her face messily with the back of her hand, staring up at him all moony and soft, feeling her cheeks boil at his conceited simper. The vampire carefully tucks his drenched prick back into his clothes, crouching down to her level and lilting his head to the side, tucking a strand of tangled hair behind her heated ear. The pads of his digits streak down the front of her neck and perch at the hollow between her collarbones, her pulse thundering beneath her sweaty flesh. He taps at the center of her throat for significance, tone fond and almost caring. “Is it sore?”

Y/N struggles to get saliva down, rattling her head in agreement since her vocal chords are refusing to work.

Harry folds the hem of his tee over his fingers, reaching forward to help clean up anything leftover across her chin and jaw. Y/N eyes him with a form of detached admiration, enamored with the way he tends to her so gently now that the session has come to a close.

“You like it, though, right?”

The young woman doesn’t even try to mask the fact that she indeed does, nodding her head once again.

“That’s good to hear, pet.” Harry drops his shirt back over his belly, giving her a chaste peck to the nose. Despite the ever-present coldness of his touch, the action sparks a warm glow that surges from the tips of her ears to the heels of her feet. “Want to make sure I wasn’t being too rough.”

He stands up onto his knees, dismounting the sofa and combing a few rouge curls out of his eyes, nudging at her socked foot jestingly with his. Y/N kicks him in return as she busies herself with combing out the knots from her mussed locks, attempting to distract herself from the gnawing running along the inside of her stomach. She needs to get it sedated, but she’s too timid to ask the vampire outright, which she knows is ironic given what they’d just done.

Harry sits down along the marble counter of the coffee table with his forearms propped along his knees, toying with his lionhead daylight ring (it’s the only one he wears at home, out of necessity) as he watches her tend to the mess he’d created. He smiles to himself in satisfied amusement— she always looks so pretty freshly face-fucked.

The monster then notices how the human is still rubbing her thighs together, reminding him that she had been left unattended. He decides that he should do what any gentleman would and provide assistance to the issue; it’s only fair, according to the unspoken laws of their little mutual arrangement. He hooks his fingers along the rim of the table beneath him, dragging it forward until his knees meet the edge of the couch, knocking hers open slightly. He leans back onto his palms as she gives him a curious glance, the olive tone around his pupils glittering with hunger while his fingers tap knowingly along the surface below.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry’s eyebrows kink upward. “Can’t a man look in his own home?”

“Of course he can, but just not at me. Staring’s rude. Especially when I’m covered in spit and bodily fluids.”

The boy gives an exaggerated pout, pairing it with a set of puppy dog eyes and a honeyed drawl. “But you look so cute covered in my bodily fluids.”

Y/N stares at him flatly. “Wow. I’m so flattered. I’ll file that compliment right under the one where you said I look adorable with jizz all over my eyelashes.”

“Well, you do! And that was a great compliment, if you think about it. It’s unique and creative— very avant-garde of me.”

“You need brain cells in order to be avant-garde.”

“Just shut up and get on your hands and knees.”

///

Harry drinks from Y/N that night.

He knows Mitch would scold him for it, considering the quota for draft beverages from mortal taps is strictly once a week, per his orders. But the creature just can’t help himself. She smells so sweet, and her neck looks so tempting when her head is turned to the side in sleep; even in the dark, he can see her veins pumping beneath the taut skin. He justifies it by telling himself that any vampire would give into weakness if they were in his place, and it’s not like he’s some uncultured, unhinged newborn who lacks basic control. He’s spent decades refining his impulses and taming his animalistic instincts to the point where he can walk through a butcher shop and not even bat an eye. He’s more than capable of double-dipping without threatening her life.

However, Harry will admit that he does make some embarrassing sounds while he’s fang-deep in her carotid artery. He can’t be expected to withhold them, especially not with how good she tastes. Y/N’s blood reminds him of so many things that he can’t ever quite place its flavor. Sometimes it reminds him of green grapes and champagne, and others it dawns on him in the form of peaches and cream. There’s instances where she doesn’t even fall into the usual spectrum of taste, but rather reminds him of sensations instead of tangible objects. Sometimes she tastes the way the first breath of spring feels— light and soothing, with hints of fresh florals and dewy mornings. Other times, she tastes like strawberries on a summer evening— warm, tangy, and nostalgic. At the risk of sounding like a brain-dead junky, drinking from Y/N is a magical experience that he wishes could last forever; Harry has never found it more difficult to pull back from someone’s throat than when he has to recede from hers.

After the immortal has had his fill, he pricks his finger along one of his fangs and smears a drop of his blood onto Y/N’s tongue, watching the two gaping holes on her neck heal instantaneously and leave behind a faint bruise that will likely be gone by morning. He spends the rest of the night twirling stands of her hair around his fingers and counting her heartbeats, vaguely wondering what it feels like to have one. It’s been so long since he’s carried a pulse, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have it thumping in his chest. All he has left is a phantom organ and not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss its steady rhythm.

The second the first beam of sunlight filters in through the crack in Harry’s window shades, he’s up on his feet pacing around the kitchen, going through his daily morning routine of preparing breakfast with a lively soundtrack to keep him company. That is, until his actual companion awakens; then he happily replaces his playlist with her groggy voice and tired eyes.

Harry has chosen to prepare parfaits as their first meal of the day, scooping vanilla yogurt into two marbled bowls and setting out an abundant array of toppings, smiling to himself at the way Y/N’s eyes light up the room. She fills her platter to the brim with blueberries, chunks of banana, diced peaches, and crushed walnuts, while Harry loads his with tons of raspberries, slices of mango, scoops of granola, and plenty of honey. He runs into some trouble halfway through squeezing out the last ingredient, proceeding to shake it vigorously to try and get rid of the clump blocking the spout. The bottle refuses to cooperate and Harry turns it towards his face to get a better look at the problem, winking one eye shut to focus better on the cap. He gives it another testing squeeze and much to his luck, the jammed portion squirts loose and he ends up with syrup dripping down his face.

Y/N doesn’t even attempt to stifle her amusement, nearly choking on a spoonful of yogurt as laughter takes over her entire body. The vampire stands rigidly beside her, glaring at the teddy bear-shaped container with so much hatred, she thinks it might melt. When the human finally manages to tame her giggles, she reaches up and uses her index finger to collect honey right off Harry’s cheek, sticking the digit into her mouth and sucking it off with a loud pop.

Her friend gives her a deadpan scowl, to which she simply shrugs her brows playfully while gifting him a bright grin. “Now you know what it feels to have a sticky liquid shot into your eye. Doesn’t feel too good, does it?”

“Fuck off.”

“You look pretty, though. Does that make it better?”

“I will literally pour my yogurt onto your hair.”

“Karma’s a bitch, Winnie the Pooh.”

Harry ends up having to shower in order to successfully get rid of the gooey substance, though it’s hardly a hassle given that Y/N gladly joins him. It doesn’t turn too sexual, surprisingly enough.

The duo stand under the shower panel covered in suds, steam floating around their naked bodies as water pelts down on top of them, matting hair to their necks and jaws. Harry doesn’t know why, but he likes the fact that they’re now comfortable enough to be nude around each other outside of their usual dynamic. It’s fulfilling, for some odd reason.

The girl helps the creature scrub off the honey with some facial cleanser, rubbing at his flushed cheeks with her thumbs and fighting off an endeared giggle when he scrunches his nose in annoyance. His voice comes out as a childish whine. “That hurts.”

“Stop being such a baby.” She huffs, going in along his cheekbones and rolling her eyes when he grumbles. “Lean down.”

Harry abides, ducking down so she can get a better angle, casually coasting his hands onto her hips to keep her from losing her footing to the slippery floor. Y/N leans forward onto the tips of her toes, squinting at him through the foggy air as she continues to wash off the syrup, wanting to make sure she isn’t missing a single spot. Harry watches her quietly with his sopping curls sticking to his forehead and along the nape of his neck, lips twitching fondly at how hellbent she is on getting the mess off. Her brows are creased in concentration and her tongue is peeking out of her mouth; he has to restrain the impulse to surge forward and kiss her.

Once Y/N is satisfied with her work, she falls back onto her heels, washing any remnants away under the stream and pushing her drenched strands out of her face. “All done. Try not to do it again.”

“I make no promises.” Harry tuts as he joins her beneath the water, bare chest a mere inch from hers as he quirks his brows coyly. “It got you naked, so I’ll probably do it again.”

“I won’t help next time.”

“Then I’ll just rub my face against yours and get it all over you. Won’t have much of a choice, then.”

“You’re a literal child.”

Y/N grabs the bottle of chamomile shampoo from the shelf carved into the polished stone wall of the shower, uncapping it and pouring a glob into the palm of her hand. She sets the container back down and beckons Harry forward with the forefinger of her free hand. The vampire drifts towards her once again and wraps his arms across the dip of her back, lightly swaying her from side to side as she begins working the shampoo into his roots, the pads of her fingers massaging his scalp in slow circles. The groan that betrays him is pitiful.

Y/N pretends not to hear it, continuing to work a lather into his curls as the boy trails his fingers up and down the center of her spine, the feathery sensation causing her to shiver despite the hot temperature of the water. Harry leans down to nestle his face into the crook of his friend’s neck, laying his head along her shoulder and cradling her to his body as she combs her fingers through his locks. He can’t remember the last time he took a shower with someone just for the sake of it, with no ulterior motive other than to bask in each other’s presence. It’s nice.

Harry begins sponging his lips across the curve of Y/N’s throat, feeling her tense momentarily before relaxing back into his grasp, the pads of her digits scratching at his scalp.

“God, that feels so good.” Harry mumbles, tone so garbled in bliss, it’s barely understandable.

The mortal slowly coaxes him back under the direct line of the shower, thoroughly rinsing the bubbles out of his hair and making sure to carefully wash any leftover shampoo out of his lashes. She then ties her arms around his broad shoulders, gently running her nails up and down the expanse of his muscular back, feeling the tendons unknot under her guidance. Y/N cranes her head to the side and flushes her lips to Harry’s temple, the pattering of the water camouflaging the fact that the area lacks a pulse. She sighs softly in innocent pleasure, the warm air sending a delightful bristling down the young man’s neck and drawing another drunken whimper from his lungs. This all feels therapeutic, almost. Neither had realized how much they missed domesticity until now.

The human suddenly snorts humorously, talking against Harry’s waxy skin. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to make a move yet.”

Harry rattles his head sleepily, the ridges of his mouth tickling her jugular as he does so. His voice is distant and tender, but his words send a pang of electricity to her core. “I’ll fuck you afterwards. Just wanna enjoy this right now.”

Y/N lets her eyes lull shut, allowing the sheets of hot water to numb her mind the same way it had his, a certain type of mellowness soaking into her bones. Her tone comes out as soothed and detached as her lover’s, all her attention funneled into how incredible his hard body feels pressed to hers in such an intimate fashion, his strong arms clinging to her like a lifeline. “I’m not complaining.”

Even in his distracted state, Harry still somehow manages to wriggle in a smug quip. “Of course you’re not. I give you nothing to complain about.”

“Dickhead.”

Y/N gives his ringlets a spiteful tug, which he responds to with an airy chuckle and a cheeky smack across her ass. The girl jumps slightly with a small gasp and a handful of select curses, which only causes him to cackle even further. “You love that shit, don’t you?”

“Go back to keeping your mouth shut.”

“Mm. S’what I thought.”

Harry keeps his sensual promise, as he always does.

As soon as they exit the shower, he immediately wanders into the bedroom, the only towel in his possession being the one he’s using to shake out his damp curls. Y/N dries off her body patiently as she stands in front of the clouded mirror, rubbing the linen over her softened skin. She handles her hair second, patting and scrunching the water out as she thinks on what Harry could possibly be doing that is taking him so long. She doubts he’s getting dressed, if his earlier intentions are any indication, and he seemed like he had a plan in motion when he’d walked out, so there must be a method to his prolonged absence.

When the monster pads back into the bathroom, he is just as bare as when he’d left, the towel he’d used on his locks crumpled in his large hands. He chucks it into the linen hamper beside the jacuzzi, sauntering up behind Y/N and she has to force herself not to use the mirror to ogle below his waist. She folds her towel neatly onto the counter, reaching forward and wiping the last bit of condensation off the glass so she can get a proper view of Harry’s face. Maybe it’ll help her deduce what he’s plotting.

The boy presses up against her backside, pushing her forward until her hips are wedged between his torso and the edge of the bathroom counter, moving all her stringy hair onto one shoulder with the back of his hand. Harry locks eyes with her through the mirror, speckling a few sloppy kisses along the back of her neck and grinning into her flesh when a shiver coils down her spine. He looks so fucking good with his damp ringlets glued along his sharp jaw, his jade eyes glossy with lascivious intentions, and his cheeks and chest still colored from the hot water, tattoos looking as alluring as ever. He nuzzles the tip of his nose across the shell of her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging teasingly, the warm air of his low, dominant tone causing her flinch in anticipation.

“Arms behind your back.”

Y/N obeys without a hitch, bringing her hands together atop the alcove at the bottom of her spine. She feels the unmistakable sensation of cold metal looping around her wrists, tightening with soft clicks and pinching at her skin. The cuffs sift into the designated setting and Harry gives them a quick yank to check for security, tying the excess chain link around his knuckles and pulling down harshly. Y/N’s body contorts to his influence, her arms straightening out as her back arches, chest swelling forward while her hips remain perched to the tabletop, held in place by his own. She can feel the head of his cock dab against the back of her thighs, his irises darkening as he surveys her bust with a type of barely-contained desire that sends heat flooding into her abdomen.

Harry ducks his head further down to glue more kisses along the slope of her shoulder, nipping periodically and leaving behind a neat row of love bites that he’ll admire in detail later. The words he murmurs against her skin deliver a sweltering simmer in their wake. “Do you want it rough?”

Y/N swallows thickly, nodding her head several times and whispering a bashful, “Yes.”

“‘Yes’ what?”

The human licks at her lips tentatively, squeaking a tad when gives the metal hoops an expectant tug, urging a reply. “Yes, sir.”

Harry’s lashes flutter shut for a second, the corners of his lips twitching in arrogant satisfaction. “You’ve got the filthiest tongue, but you know how to make it say the sweetest things, don’t you, baby?”

“Only for you.”

“No one else?”

“No one else.”

The vampire’s eyes open slowly, head tilting to the side to assess her with sly amusement. “You wanna know how I can tell that’s the truth?”

Y/N’s joints are starting to ache due to the position he’s fixed her in, but she doesn’t mind the burn. It feeds into the appeal. “H-How?”

Harry leans forward, brushing his wet lips up her jaw, the tip of his cock spreading her open just a smidge. “Because every time I fuck you, you’re always so bloody tight. Means I’m the only one stretching out that snug little cunt.”

A broken whine escapes Y/N’s sore throat— courtesy of what had occurred the night prior— and she squirms in the brunette’s grip, trying to shimmy her way further down his length. She’s anxious to feel him fill her. “Deeper.”

“Pardon?”

“Go deeper. Want it all.”

Harry raises an eyebrow in impressed curiosity. “You want it all in one go? Don’t want me to prep you first?”

She shakes her head stubbornly, pushing back against him and succeeding in sinking an inch or so. Harry’s entire face hardens as she clenches around the head of his prick, attempting to ride down further to sedate her desperate need. He twists his fist tighter around the chain, his other hand coming up to grip her throat, forearm pressed between her breasts as he gets a decent hold to prepare for what’s to come.

“If it gets to be too much,” Harry dabs a gentle kiss onto her cheek; it’s to communicate the importance of the message amidst the tense atmosphere, “you know to tell me, right?”

“Mmhm.”

“Alright. Ready?”

“Always.”

Y/N nearly passes out. Even though she’s grown accustomed to Harry’s size and girth, it somehow never fails to shock her into a state of unexpected rapture. He just fits so well inside her— hits every nook and crevice like he was meant to touch every single one. That, combined with his unrelinquishing thrusts and sinful dirty talk...It’s enough to render anyone helpless. It’s certainly enough to have her shaking and screaming against his chest, and it’s definitely more than enough to drive her towards an orgasm that she knows will blow out her legs for at least the rest of the day.

Harry fucks into her just how she’d requested— rough and vehement. He presses her bare back to his chest by using the hold he has around her throat, her head falling backwards onto his shoulder as he pounds into her belly from behind. His other hand is braided into the chain between the cuffs, controlling how her body seizes up and gives way. She’s standing on the tips of her toes, legs spread open as much as her weak knees will support, scraggly breaths stuttering from her nose and mouth as shattered noises of ecstasy decorate the space the fading steam has left behind. Her hips are ramming forward against the rim of the counter, the marble knocking against her pubic bone to the point where she knows bruises will develop later on. She doesn’t mind it; she loves seeing the memories Harry brands onto her, whether that be in the form of hickies across her thighs, fingerprints over her waist, or his rings fanned out across the swell of her ass. She’ll take anything he’s willing to give.

The vampire is dismantling just as quickly as she is, obvious in the fractured growls and soft grunts he’s puffing against the side of her face. His pink-polished nails dig into her jugular, fingers twitching as her heartbeat hammers against his palm, sending vibration down his whole nervous system. His cock is slicking into her easily and it’s obvious the anticipation of what he had said during their bath had gotten to her; he can feel how wet she is with every stroke. It’s dripping down her quivering thighs and smearing all over his tiger head tattoo, damp slaps resonating from where her backside hits against his tinted pelvis.

Harry stares down hazily at where he’s spreading her open, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as tiny mewls itch along the back of his raw throat, her own sounds playing across his ears with each buck of his thighs. They float through the heavy air like a lullaby and he can confidently say he’d listen to her moans forever, if time allowed.

“I think it’s funny,” Harry starts with a comedic edge to his strained voice, mimicking the introduction Y/N had used the day before when they’d been in the jacuzzi, “that you’re always so willing to let me use you however I want. That you literally beg me to take you this hard. It’s almost pitiful, really, that you never had anyone fuck you right before I came along.”

The girl squirms in his arms, her hands flat against his abdomen, nails carving into his flesh. Her sentences come out cracked and almost pained. “I-I wish I’d met you sooner.”

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Harry grits against the shell of her ear, smirking when she worries her lower lip beneath her top teeth, trying to keep a tab on what he knows is probably an embarrassingly loud keen. “I bet you wish you’d had me back home, huh? Spent all your time fucking around with those vanilla small-town boys, never had a real man treat you the way you wanted. Bet you didn’t even like those pricks, did you, darling?”

Y/N shakes her head vigorously in response. “They were so boring. You’re so much better.”

She’s working his praise kink like a charm.

“Poor thing.” Harry scoffs sympathetically, running his grasp upwards until his thumb and forefinger rope around her jaw. He maneuvers her head into place, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror, hissing his words lowly. “Eyes up. See how pretty you look taking every last bit of that cock? And the way your tummy’s bulging? That’s how you know the sex is good— that’s how it’s supposed to look.”

Y/N gazes upon the image her friend is referring, her exhales hiccuping in her chest at the way an obvious bump rises in her belly every time he thrusts inside. Not only that, but Harry just looks incredible, as well, with his heavily inked arm flushed between her breasts, the art flexing to life as he yanks her down against his lap by her neck. She can see the sweat beading his hairline, his freshly-washed ringlets jumping to his movements as he groans into her scalp.

Y/N’s lips part in a silent moan and the immortal takes this chance to shove his first two fingers into her mouth, weighing them against her tongue and instructing her with a clear, deep accent. “Suck.”

She does so obediently, her cheeks hollowing as she gasps around the digits, swiveling to match his tempo. Between her glistening body, the needy expression painted across her appearance as she conforms to his every demand, and the way her walls are clinging to him like a vice as she eagerly licks and suckles at him…

Harry loses it.

“Fucking hell.” The monster unclamps the hand he has around her jugular and Y/N drops back down onto her heels, ankles quaking now that she has to carry her own weight. His palm finds refuge along the back of her skull instead, proceeding to shove her head down towards the counter, pulling at the cuffs to finagle her into a folded position. “Bend over.”

Y/N does as told, a small, “mm!” plucking at her vocal chords as Harry pushes her cheek down against the cold marble situated between his two sinks. He pins her head to the surface and she casts her attention upwards to try and get a peek of him through the glass. His eyes look unnaturally dark, though she can’t quite place the shade given her limited view.

The vampire makes sure the chain link is secured around his knuckles, proceeding to use the toy to bounce Y/N against his cock. He yanks her towards his torso until she thunks wetly against his base, using his hips to push her forward harshly and pulling out until his tip is barely grazing her entrance. He repeats this action over and over, weak whimpers spilling shamelessly from his plump ruby lips as he keeps her face fastened down, maintaining some form of consistent stability. Every fiber of his being sparks with bliss as he watches her jerk against the counter, back caving forward and causing her naked chest to bulge against the stone panel. One of these days, she’s going to drive him mental. He swears it.

“There’s a good girl, minx.” Harry’s head tips backwards, bobbing back and forth as his sticky chest heaves with the exertion of keeping him tethered to reality. “Take it just like that, yeah? God, you should see the way you’re so snug around me. Love that cock, don’t you? Say it. Tell me you love it.”

Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against the dip of her spine, nails digging into her palms. “I love your cock, Harry. I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking— oh!” He prods over her g-spot and she shudders below him. “Shit, keep going! Right there, right there, right there— oh my God!”

“Right here? Is that what’s gonna make my dirty little whore cum?” Harry grinds his teeth, ignoring the rouge curls falling into his furrowed brows, jabbing the spongy area with continuous plunges. “More? Look at how you’re shaking, baby. And you’re just so fucking wet. Absolutely soaked and... and fuck, that’s my sweet girl.”

The boy keeps delivering every plea she chokes out, his climax beginning to froth at the trench of his stomach and along the underside of his balls. A familiar glow starts to pour into his dormant veins. “I’m almost there, dove. Gonna fill you up until it runs down your thighs.”

“Y-You’re so good, I can’t fucking— I’m gonna—”

“Beg for it. Beg for Daddy, princess.”

Y/N does so with no remorse, confessing to him how much she wants his load, telling him that she needs to feel him spill inside her all warm and thick and heavy. A dark, open-mouthed smirk adorns Harry’s features as he fucks a throbbing ache between her thighs, feeling his mind completely slip. He may be damned with eternal life, but in this instant, the immortal feels like he touches heaven.

Then, that moment of pure euphoria is stripped away by the sound of his front door clicking open.

Harry’s eyes snap awake, all his motions coming to an abrupt halt. He shushes a protesting Y/N quietly, tuning his heightened hearing to make sure he hadn’t imagined the sound.

But no, it’s very much real. It’s followed by the noise of the lock clanking back into its hole, and then three pairs of footsteps begin echoing down the hallway that leads to his living room. He recognizes every single one and unhinged rage suddenly flares around his pupils, potent and bright red. If Y/N wasn’t in such a compromisable position, he wouldn’t have gotten away with that slip-up.

“Christ, you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

Harry carefully withdraws himself from between the mortal’s legs, wincing a bit at the loss of suction and feeling a spoonful of guilt stem from the disappointed whine Y/N sobs. His swollen, leaking cock sways lightly as he takes a cautious step back, testing to see if he’s capable of moving without face-planting the ground. His mind is misty and he’s obviously drenched in the pungent scent of sex, but other than that, he reckons he can manage just fine. Especially with the newfound anger coursing through his nerves— a direct result of the unexpected trio of intruders chatting nonchalantly on the floor below.

Harry stumbles towards the exit of the bathroom, knees wobbly and head spinning, an unsatisfied gnawing toiling in his groin. He needs to get that taken care of as soon as possible, but he can’t until he gets rid of the three morons milling around his foyer. He snatches his cherry blossom silk robe from the hook on the wall, wrapping it around himself tightly and making sure to cover all his assets to prevent any mishaps.

He glances up at a pouting Y/N as he ties off the ribbon around his waist, walking back and helping her onto her unstable feet, cooing apologetically. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I heard some visitors come in downstairs ‘cause, apparently, they don’t understand the concept of privacy. This is the last time I’m trusting anyone with an extra key.”

The girl leans back against one of the sinks, blinking up at him emptily as he thumbs over her chin in comfort. Her voice is hardly audible, raw with exhaustion. “How...How did you know they were here? I didn’t hear them come in...”

Harry pauses for a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly and pecking her on the nose to insert a distraction. He throws some humor into the mix as well, wanting to steer the conversation to safe grounds, opting for using a bit of compulsion to get the job done. His pupils dilate as his sentences swim around her head in a soothing voice, heavy with persuasion. “I heard the door slam shut. I guess you were a little too busy screaming my name to notice.”

Y/N’s pupils expand to match his, her face going slack as the supernatural magic sews into her thoughts and molds her perspective to his story. Her lashes flutter in mild confusion, brows cinching as her brain recalibrates itself. The creases in her forehead dissolve as all of her doubt melts away, the corners of her plump lips quirking at his snarky remark. “I guess so.”

“Can’t blame you, though.” Harry taps at her bottom lip cheekily, shrugging his brows. “I was giving it to you pretty good.”

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” Y/N rolls her foggy eyes, but she can’t hide the way her heartbeat spikes— not from him. Then, her face suddenly wracks with embarrassment, eyes shattering with humiliated realization. “Oh my God, that means they probably heard everything…”

Oh, they definitely heard everything, Harry thinks. They’ve got nothing better to do other than pry.

He nurses her downcast face with his cold palm, one shoulder rising and falling casually to show it’s no big deal. “Don’t worry about it, hm? I’m gonna go kick them out, anyways, so you won’t have to deal with it.”

The pet name and his kind gesture eases her woes a bit, but not much. “Still. I’m never showing my face in public ever again.”

Now it’s the vampire’s turn to roll his eyes at her theatrics. “Just stay here, yeah? It’ll only take a second, and then…” Her friend gives her naked body a suggestive once-over, licking at the corner of his mouth. “Then we can finish what we started.”

Y/N kicks at his ankle, jokingly chastising him for his wandering gaze as she fiddles with her fingers within the handcuffs. “Just go.”

The moment Harry’s bare feet step off the last rung of his staircase, he begins spewing venom at the three imbeciles standing around at the mouth of his entrance corridor.

“Are you fucking dense?” He stomps up towards the group of young men with balled fists and bristling irises, all his spite trained on Mitch. “I told you I was busy! That suggests that you should’ve stayed away for the weekend! It meant, ‘leave me alone,’ not ‘come to my flat unannounced.’”

“Yeah, we know you’re busy.” Niall boasts with a loud scoff, shaking his head as an afterthought. “I think the whole building knows, at this point.”

The Irish bloke grabs Xander, who catches onto what the man is doing and happily takes a part in the action. He bends over while Niall grasps onto his shoulders and begins to mimic thrusting, arching his back forward and shaking his ass. He sucks one of his fingers into his mouth, moaning profusely to add authenticity to their vulgar reenactment. “Oh, Harry! Right there, don’t stop!”

Niall drops his voice a few octaves for symbolism, putting on a shitty British accent as he bucks against Xander’s backside. “Yeah, baby, you like that? Like it right there? Tell me how much you love that cock.”

Harry’s jaw clenches as he tries to ignore them, refusing to give rise to their taunting. The two boys break into a puddle of giggles at his expense, nudging each other triumphantly and eventually dying down. Harry isn’t normally the type of person to daydream about violence— why would anyone partake in something so barbaric when dismantling an enemy psychologically is so much better?— but he finds himself fantasizing about tearing Niall and Xander’s hands off and using them as ping-pong paddles.

Mitch shifts his body towards his best friend, arms crossed loosely with an expression of sheer amusement painted across his bearded face, seeming undisturbed by Harry’s rampage and deadly grimace. “It’s nice to see you, too, H.”

The younger vampire takes a measured inhale, swallowing down the urge to rip the older man’s mustache clean off. He directs his next sentence at all of them, glaring intently as his voice comes out flat and harsh. “Get out.”

Niall raises his palms in peaceful surrender, proceeding to use an index finger to signal hastily between his impromptu porno co-star and himself. “Don’t look at us, this was Mitch's idea. We just came along.”

“None of you should have come at all.” Harry spits, tightening his lean arms over his chest, biceps rippling under the thin silk of his elegant robe. “What do you want?”

A soft giggle suddenly bursts from Xander and he momentarily slaps his hand over his mouth to muddle it, but his eyes continue to dance with mirth. “Sorry, I just can’t take you seriously in that.” He juts his chin towards Harry’s pajamas. “I think my grandmother had one just like it.”

“Yeah, I stole this from her place right after I pissed on her grave.” The brunette snaps with an exaggerated smile, feeling a flare of evil satisfaction at the way Xander’s grin immediately plops. Niall snorts loudly and tries to cover it up, but it fails and he is left having to brace the brunt of the other boy’s contempt.

Harry turns back to face Mitch while the other two immortals bicker, now aware that he is the mastermind behind this entire coup. “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you have left for Vegas already?”

“Yeah, we should have.” He answers pointedly with a soft, dejected sigh. Harry has to keep himself from casting his gaze away in guilt.

The annual trip had been a tradition he and Mitch had started in the nineties, just them two. As their group had expanded, so had the attendant list, and now it was something special their whole clique did together to put some extra excitement— something stable to look forward to— into the endless years they had ahead. No one had missed out on the trip in the last thirty years, especially not willingly, and no one ever thought Harry— the co-founder of the event— would be the one to break that streak. He can tell Mitch is upset.

“I’m sorry.” Harry mumbles, squeezing at the inside of his elbows and putting as much genuine emotion into his demeanor as possible. “It just slipped my mind and I made another commitment that I can’t bail on. But it won’t happen again, I promise. Betsy swear.”

Mitch’s downturned lips jolt slightly at the mention of his old bayonet. He had kept the weapon after the American Revolution had ended, as a tribute to the old life he was leaving behind after he transitioned, naming it fondly after his mother. With all of that history taken into appeal, it’s no wonder the item means a lot to him. That is exactly why the two best friends had developed a dynamic around it.

They would tie an oath to the object in order to ensure it would be kept, and if the promise was broken, the other would get to stab the traitor with it. The game had been something Mitch and Harry had conjured up decades ago while under the influence of some very strong psychedelics, but it had stuck, for some reason. It’s simply a playful inside joke, and though it’s a tad gruesome, it’s hardly an issue considering they both self-heal quickly. Any damage inflicted is equivalent to that of a rubber band snapping against their skin, so in the end, no harm, no foul. At its core, it’s just a vampire’s version of a pinky swear, hence the term, “Betsy swear.” Harry had thought about getting it patented, at one point.

The jade-eyed boy feels a weight lift off his shoulders as Mitch indulges one of his signature quiet chuckles. “Alright, fine. Betsy swear, then. The reason we’re here is ‘cause I wanted to check up on you before we left, and ‘cause I wanted to make sure you switched the reservation. You never got back to me about it.”

“Oh, my bad. I got it done, though. Everything should check out.” Harry reassures, waving away his visitor’s doubt. He’d tended to the job last night after Y/N fell asleep and he meant to send a confirmation text, but forgot when the mortal had begun to stir randomly. He’d had to put away his phone and pretend to be unconscious for a few minutes until her agitation melted away, resulting in the deed going undone, courtesy of the mild panic that had dulled his memory. “Why didn’t you just text me about it?”

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, pursing his lips to fight off an entertained grin. “Oh, I did. Multiple times, actually. But I reckon you were too busy with the treadmill to notice.”

The older creature’s reference works as intended, an irritating flush crawling up Harry’s neck and pouring into his ears, garnering a fit of cackles on his companion’s behalf.

“Fuck off.” Harry grumbles as he shoves Mitch’s shoulder, but the insult is hard to take seriously when he’s wrestling a smirk of his own.

“Is it the girl from the club?” The lanky man inquires curiously, tilting his head to the side with an impressed air. “It’s been, what, four weeks now? That’s a record, I think. You’ve never kept one around that long.”

“What can I say, the sex is good.” Harry shrugs easily, tucking a couple of rebellious curls away from his eyes, which gleam crimson red as a supporting factor to his next comment. “And the blood is even better.”

Mitch rolls his irises playfully. “Alright, Casanova, pipe down.” He glances over his friend’s rumpled appearance, taking in the slightly damp skin, wild hair, and the plethora of faded hickies peeking through the boy’s robe, littering his chest and collarbones. “She’s got you on a tight leash, I see.”

“It’s only fair, considering she spends most of that time in my handcuffs. Quid pro quo and all that.” Harry quips back, bursting into laughter when Mitch gags dramatically.

“You know you could’ve just brought her along, right?” Mitch suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets. “We each have our own rooms, remember? No one would get in the way of your little late night jogs. Though I can’t say the same for the other hotel guests. She’s not necessarily subtle.”

Harry presses his tongue along the inside of his cheek coyly. “It’s not my fault I’m good in bed. It’s a curse, really. Could never get away with dressing room sex.”

He contemplates Mitch's offer for a second. He thinks it could be a fun time, but then he recalls that the trip to Vegas is a week-long party, which Y/N can’t indulge because she works a regular nine-to-five. Plus, a human in a car full of vampires sounds like the introduction to an ominous joke. Something is bound to slip, especially because no one in the crew is used to having humans around outside of meal hours. He doesn’t want the responsibility of constantly having to wipe her brain.

Aside from that, most of the vampires that mill around Vegas aren’t as cultured as Harry’s friends. They lack restraint, a conscience, and fear of consequences, given that the city’s crazy reputation provides the perfect cover for all those dangerous behaviors. That makes them deadly predators to someone as trusting and unsuspecting as Y/N, and having to continuously protect her would be too much of a hassle. It’s supposed to be a vacation; the last thing he needs is for it to turn into an episode of Shark Week. It’s best to stay put.

Harry shakes his head after a minute, clearing his throat. “But I think I’m good. Bringing along a human isn’t worth all the trouble she might cause. Thank you, though.”

Mitch bobs his head in understanding, well aware of the problems Harry is alluding to. “You have a point.” He pauses for a second in thought, shaking his head at the idea of having to deal with the insanity that surrounds their Vegas siblings. “I guess I’ll just see you next week, then, yeah? Better get going.”

The younger vampire mirrors his nod, opening his arms for a hug, which Mitch gladly takes. He’s not one for affection, that much is clear, but he makes certain exceptions here and there, and of course his friends file under that category. And every now and then, Y/N does too.

“See you next week.” He pulls away from the embrace with a hard pat to Mitch’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Send tons of pictures, okay? And videos of Niall getting shitfaced. I need new blackmail content.”

“Will do.” Mitch squeezes his best friend’s shoulders tightly, beaming at him in return. He then cranes towards his two fellow guests, whistling to gain their attention from the passionate conversation they seem to be having about Harry’s robe. “Time to head out, Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Who’s who?” Niall questions childishly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I think I should be Clyde. Xander has Bonnie vibes.”

“No I don’t!”

“Yes, you do.” The Irish boy reasons, cocking his head knowingly. “You seem like the type who would cheat on a murderer with another criminal from the same jail. You’ve got a knack for drama, like most women.”

Xander crosses his arms stubbornly. “No, I don’t.”

“You do, actually.” Harry butts in, eyes twinkling slyly as the group starts to wander towards the exit. He decides to get revenge for the teasing from earlier. “You moan just like one, too.”

Xander blushes bright red, diving into the shadow of the corridor to avoid any more ridicule. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

The other vampires laugh as they follow behind Harry’s ex-fling, waving their final goodbyes. As soon as the front door echoes shut, the immortal turns on his heel and heads back towards the glass stairs, beginning to undo the silk ribbon knotted around his hips.

He’s got his own partner in crime to attend to.

///

That night, Y/N and Harry end up bidding each other farewell in the corridor of his condo.

That seems to be a common theme in their relationship, he’s come to find. It’s usually the entrance to her own apartment instead of his, but the motif is there, nonetheless: They always end up meeting in a hallway, every single time.

“Thanks for having me over.” Y/N murmurs in her signature gentle dialect, smiling delicately as she skids the toe of her sneaker against the ground of the carpet outside his door, trying to keep the butterflies in her tummy tame. It was an incredible two days— maybe the best weekend she’s ever had, if she’s being honest. “I had a lot of fun.”

Harry leans his bare shoulder against his threshold, clad in nothing but a pair of royal blue boxers and black ankle socks, freely showing off the collection of love bites and scratches Y/N had so kindly finished gifting him a few hours ago. She’d gone wild the second he’d unlocked the metal cuffs and he’s more than happy with the results.

The stains speckle his broad chest and the expanse of his taut neck, dark and obvious beneath the complex’s buttery lighting. Bruises trace down his stomach and across his ribs, a neat row of four hickies centered vertically between his two fern inkings. They disappear suggestively under the elastic band of his underwear and she can feel flashes of heat layer across her cheeks, her mind recalling all the filthy sounds he’d made when she had created them.

The human peels away from the artwork that is Harry’s marked torso, glancing around nervously at the fact that some stranger might see the fruit of their actions. The vampire’s lips twitch at her concern; it baffles him how she can be such a devil in between the sheets, but such a shy, reserved angel in every other aspect. It’s cute.

Harry reaches forward and takes her warm fingers into his larger hand, thumbing over her knuckles appreciatively as his irises glitter smugly amidst his lashes, a smirk stringing his pillowy mouth. “We always have a lot of fun.”

Y/N squeezes his palm playfully, gnawing into her cheek and humming in agreement. “That, we do.”

A moment of comfortable silence suspends the air between them, the only sound being the faint footsteps of people on the levels above and below, alongside the light skidding of the elevator as it delivers patrons to their destinations. Harry is the first to speak up again.

“What was your favorite part?”

Y/N blinks up at him blankly, slightly startled at the random question, but moreso at being put on the spot.

“Oh, uh…” She laughs shakily, struggling to recall everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. There had been so much bare skin and desperate tongues involved, she can hardly pick through her memories without her ears prickling. “I think...I think the shower was my favorite. It was nice and relaxing. Helped me unwind.”

Harry nods in recognition, turning through the pages in his mind and skimming through the instance she’s referring. “It was pretty nice, yeah. You look good in a soap beard.”

Y/N scoffs at his joking compliment. “Thanks. I’ll grow it out more often. Just for you.”

The young man reaches up and grips over his chest in fake passion, face contorted into a wistful expression. “That’s all I ask.”

The pair break into childish giggles and the sensation of Harry rubbing across the top of her hand is starting to make her head fuzzy. “What about yours? What was your favorite?”

Harry mulls over his own topic for a few seconds, lips puckering in thought as his eyes narrow pensively. The comically adorable picture makes Y/N’s heart skip.

“I think…” Harry lists his gaze downwards back onto his patiently-awaiting friend, lips spreading into his patented dazzling smile. “I think it was probably the Hamilton reenactment.”

Y/N brows jump, mood slightly unconvinced. “Really?”

The vampire nods confidently, his own eyebrows inching upwards, voice amused. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Y/N shrugs offhandedly, glimpsing down at where the ridges of his thumb are delivering soothing shots of bliss into her veins. “You’re just so...y’know...you… so I guess I just expected you’d have a preference for the more…” She chooses her next words carefully, not wanting to be so brazen with the risk of someone overhearing, “...intimate parts of the weekend.”

“Wow, okay. Just call me a whore to my face, then. That’s fine.”

Y/N throws her free hand upwards in a fist, slugging Harry on the shoulder with appalled shock overtaking her features. His boyish chuckles echo off the walls of the building as she whips her head around to make sure no one had witnessed his dirty bluntness. “You know what I mean!”

“Yeah.” He purposefully raises his voice, nearly shouting the following sentence just to get on her nerves. “You’re slut-shaming me!”

Y/N surges forward, trying to clamp her hand over his mouth and save herself the embarrassment. “Harry, shut up!”

He easily fights her off, his supernatural strength beating hers tenfold. She ends up wrapped in his embrace, flushed against his hard chest as he sticks his tongue out at her mockingly. He drops his tone back down to normal, his two front teeth digging into his lower lip to keep more laughter from bubbling over. “That’s not nice. You should stop conforming to society’s outdated ‘sex is taboo’ narrative.”

“I wasn’t—” Y/N starts insistently, but then she realizes she’s become almost as loud as him so she forces her voice to taper into an alarmed hiss instead. “I wasn’t slut-shaming you! I was simply expressing—”

“You just see me as a toy, don’t you?” The creature cuts her off, lips dipping downwards into a glorified frown. He proceeds to bat his lashes and sniffle, packing as many theatrics as possible into his mopey act. “I have feelings, y’know? My big dick and cunnilingus skills aren’t my only redeeming qualities! You should be ashamed of yourself for objectifying me like that.”

Y/N presses her lips together to ward off an immature grin, rattling her head to get herself under control. She gives him a stern look, warning him to cut it out. “Stop being a child.”

“Stop using me for sex and making derogatory assumptions about my promiscuity.”

“Oh, hop of it! You use me right back. It’s mutual.”

“Which is why the slut-shaming is such a paradox.”

“For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t fucking— You know what? You can’t even pin me on the objectification part because you do it to me all the time!”

“Oh, is that so?” Harry prods with a humorous tilt of his head, squeezing at her love handles and swimming in the way she wriggles around. “Elaborate.”

“When you slapped my ass in the shower. Or when you put your hand under my shirt to play with my chest while we watch TV.” Y/N debates, poking at the thorax of his butterfly tattoo. “Very objectifying, if you ask me.”

“Mm, not quite, darling.” The vampire shakes his head and draws her closer, ducking down to flirt the tip of his nose along the slope of hers. “There’s a difference.”

“Oh, yeah?” She digs her nails into his pectorals, discreetly savoring the strong muscles. “What is it?”

Harry glimpses down at where she’s carving indents into his flesh, enjoying the minute pain more than he should. He drifts his mouth closer towards her ear, inhaling the scent of his shampoo wafting from her silky strands of hair. “The difference is that you’re usually begging me to do all those things.”

Y/N’s teeth grind in begrudging defeat, her spine giving a surrendered shiver at his crude point. “Whatever.”

Harry releases her body, haughty victory written all over his posture. “I rest my case.”

Y/N’s pride blazes, a threat falling from her tongue sharply, but it holds no true intentions. “Maybe I should just stop asking you to, then.”

“You won’t.” The boy sighs airily, tapping his bare foot against the ground without a care in the world. “You like me too much.”

“Even if I like you, I’d have enough dignity to stop seeing you if I wanted.” Y/N huffs, making a face at him to emphasize her stance. “It’s this little thing called ‘willpower.’”

“Yeah, well, we both know you and your willpower are gonna end up texting my number Friday night, asking me to come over for some more interior design advice.” Harry snarkily dismisses, presenting a scenario where he’s holding an invisible phone in his hands, pretending to tap out a message. His voice comes out high-pitched, mimicking her own. “Hey, one of the rungs on my headboard came loose. Can you come help me fix it?”

Y/N stares at him with eyes half-lidded in pettiness. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You’re right. You’re a tad more nasally.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m just calling it like I see it, love.”

Y/N socks him on the shoulder again as retribution, though it barely has an impact.

After a couple heartbeats full of vengeful silence, Y/N chimes up with a jesting tone, though the manner in which she’s picking at her nails tells Harry she’s slightly anxious. “Hypothetically speaking, if I were to send out a text inviting you to come over Friday...would you?”

A lopsided simper pops the immortal’s dimples awake. He shifts on his feet, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. “Hypothetically speaking, I think I could very well make it.”

Y/N chews on her lower lip as the apples of her cheeks jolt. “Ok, well...Let’s say— once again, hypothetically— that I should be home by eight that day. Would that work for you?”

Harry cocks his head from side to side as if churning the offer around his mind. “I think that, hypothetically, that fits right into my schedule.”

The human’s belly flops in giddy excitement. “Great. It’s booked, then. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Of course.” Harry agrees, the reply accompanied by a teasing furrow of his sculpted brows and a curt nod.

Y/N clasps her hands in front of her thighs with finality, giving him a bright smile. “Alright, then. I’ll see you next week.”

“Next week.” Harry confirms with a cheeky wink, running his tongue along his top teeth to keep from bursting into giggles. “Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically.” Y/N states with a slight bow of her head, tucking one hand into the back pocket of her dark jeans as she takes a step back from the front door with a small wave. She turns on her heel to face the elevator at the other end of the hall, her foot lifting to take the first step towards the exit.

“Wait.”

The mortal looks back towards her friend, eyebrows poised in question.

Harry scratches at the nape of his neck, smiling softly. “I could really go for a goodbye kiss. Not-so-hypothetically.”

Y/N blinks at him in wonder. He’s never asked for one before.

The awkward aura that quickly fills the space between them becomes suffocating. He considers the option of telling her he was just joking to spare himself the humiliation, but he doesn’t get the chance. Y/N lurches forward, teetering onto the tips of her toes and buttoning her lips to his. The spontaneous action makes him swallow his words.

He fumbles to cup her jaw, kissing her back with just as much fervor and feeling the coldness of his skin fizzle away under her inherent warmth. The gesture isn’t sexual or desperate, but simply sweet and fulfilling. He enjoys it, though it’s not surprising given that he enjoys her lips touching him in any and every way imaginable. He’s not exactly sure why he’d made this particular request— it’s very out of character for him, in every sense of the phrase— but he deduces it’s likely because he wants one more thing to cling onto until he gets to feel her mouth again. It’s not uncommon to want a little something extra to get through the tougher nights, so it’s truly not that big of an occurrence. It’s only reasonable.

Y/N breaks their exchange, eyes glassy and so beautifully clear as she pecks his chin one last time in a polite farewell. “Text me if you need me...And especially if you need me.”

Harry gulps thickly at the suggestive statement, nodding numbly as her body heat slips away. “Will do. Thanks. And thanks for the kiss. Needed it to tide me over until Friday.”

“My pleasure. See you later, Holmes.”

Harry waits patiently until Y/N’s figure disappears behind the gilded doors of the fancy elevator, watching the closed slates of metal glint coldly under the blurry lighting of the condominium’s corridor. He walks back into his apartment, shutting the door gently and slouching into the plush cushions of his leather sofa with a detached sigh. He gazes up at his extravagant chandeliers, once again left in the empty solitude he’d grown so fond of in his extensive lifetime. There’s not a single sound or motion invading his seclusion, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his rug, and everything is so still and quiet, it’s almost deafening. But despite every aspect being as it should, he can’t shake the sensation that something is off. Something is wrong. Something’s missing.

And for the first time in years, he finds himself feeling more lonely than alone.

///

It only takes Harry about an hour of uneventful isolation to realize he’s made a grave mistake.

He should have gone on the trip.

Despite the fact that the vampire lives alone, he very rarely spends any time without seeing his friends. Since they all reside in the same building, it’s fairly easy for him to find some entertainment whenever boredom strikes. He’ll either go up a floor to Mitch’s place to watch a movie or mess around with his collection of vintage guitars, or he’ll go a level below to visit Adam and talk about any new art exhibits opening up around the area. He could visit Niall three floors above to play some FIFA on his gaming console and share porn recommendations, or even take the elevator to the twelfth floor to bother Xander and talk some shit while they do each other’s nails. And if Harry’s feeling extra needy for attention, he could always just invite them all over to his place so the group could go out for some Thai food at the restaurant down the street, or go see a movie at the cinema, or take a ride to their favorite local bar.

No matter the circumstances, his friends are always readily available for him when he needs them, so he very solemnly spends his days alone. That is, until now.

The entire crew had left for the Vegas trip and— as a result of his own irresponsibility and immature hormones— had left him all by himself for the next seven days. He would never admit it aloud to spare himself the ridicule of being overly sappy, but he misses the group. He misses Mitch’s soft voice and quiet wittiness, and he misses Adam’s cheeky banter and random fun facts, and he misses Niall’s inappropriate jokes and boisterous laughter, and he even misses Xander’s annoying digs and childish pettiness. He didn’t know how much he took it all for granted until it was gone.

For the rest of the week, Harry is practically miserable. The guys don’t text him much, which can be expected since the whole point of the holiday is to enjoy every second of it; there would be no point in traveling four hours just to sit in their hotel and message him. He talks to Y/N a bit, but she is also occupied most of the time with work, given that she had to take on a few extra shifts on behalf of her co-workers. The earliest she goes in is six A.M., the latest she comes out is nine P.M., and by then, Harry reckons she’s probably falling asleep in the entrance corridor of her home. He understands her exhaustion and therefore doesn’t expect her to humor him; it wouldn’t be fair.

With everyone in his life busy and with his flat feeling colder and emptier than ever, it’s a miracle he doesn’t go mad within its walls. He goes out a handful of times to do some grocery shopping, for a run around a nearby park, and to take a walk along his favorite mall, but that’s it, really. He doesn’t go out to eat simply because he thinks it would be embarrassing having to sit alone at a restaurant; it’s pitiful and sad and he’s not going to subject himself to that. The most stimulating social interaction he has that week is a tie between a bit of flirting with a Target cashier, some suggestive gazing exchanged with a Starbucks barista, and a couple of cheeky caresses from a Gucci store employee taken while measuring his waist for a custom order. None of it satisfies him the way it normally does, though, and he can’t place why.

By the time Friday evening rolls around, Harry is a hair short from letting his regular case of stir-crazy slip into a full-on psychotic break. That’s why he ends up at Y/N’s complex earlier than the agreed-upon hour, stepping out of his Cadillac with twenty minutes left to spare and with a certain desperation eating away at the back of his skull.

The creature casually jogs up the worn steps to her floor, the only sound being the heels of his maroon velvet boots clicking against the cement ground. He whistles softly to the vague tune of a new pop song that had been playing on the radio— Wet Ass something?— as he tucks his phone into his pocket and brushes a few traces of lint off his freshly-ironed button-up.

His outfit for tonight is nothing too spectacular, but it isn’t too lazy, either. It’s a long-sleeve black silk shirt with glass buttons and a pair of large swallows embroidered along either sides of his chest, the threads dyed royal and pastel blue, cherry red, and creamy yellow. The top is cuffed up his elbows and unbuttoned down to his butterfly tattoo, showing off his naturally tanned skin and matching swallow inkings, the cross on his delicate chain centered between his pecs and twinkling under the flickering lights. He’d coupled the loose blouse with some black skinny jeans, a dark leather belt, a small golden hoop earring, and his trusty collection of rings and necklaces. In his opinion, it’s a proper look for a planned-out booty call. Formal, but easy to rip off. Especially in a blind hurry.

Harry figures that he’ll check to see if Y/N is home, just to cover the bases. If she isn’t, he’ll tred back down the stairs and wait for her in his car. If she is, then that’s all the better; there’s no damage in starting a bit earlier than scheduled. It makes for a better recoup period between rounds.

The immortal turns the corner into the familiar hallway where Y/N’s flat is located, one of his hands already forming into a loose fist with the intention of knocking on her door. He makes it about five paces before he’s slapped with an image that causes him to stop cold in his tracks, his whistling coming to an abrupt halt.

Harry blinks repeatedly and lowers the frame of his pink Gucci sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, wanting to make sure the scene before him isn’t a figment of his imagination. Much to his displeasure, it isn’t.

About three meters ahead, situated right in front of her door with her back facing towards him, is Y/N. That isn’t the odd aspect of the picture, though. What’s odd is that her usual grimy work attire is missing, which he had expected to see given that he knows she always goes to the cafe on Fridays. Instead, she is clad in the pastel blue floral sundress she had worn for him all those weeks back, when they had slept together for the second time. And instead of wearing her scuffed up Vans, she is wearing a pair of pretty tan sandals. And instead of having her hair up in a frizzy ponytail, it’s down and fanned around her shoulders in a glossy sheen of tousled curls. And she’s wearing perfume— the same one she had worn the night they met. He can smell it from here and it makes his brows furrow in confusion. She never wears perfume to work; she says it’s forbidden since it can make customers nauseous.

But aside from all of those unorthodox details, there is one specific factor above all that throws Harry for the biggest loop he’s encountered in the last five weeks of knowing her.

Y/N isn’t alone. She’s accompanied by another man.

Harry gives the stranger a calculating once-over, taking in every aspect of the boy’s appearance. He has to keep himself from sputtering into laughter. This has to be some type of fucking joke.

The bloke is fit, he’ll give him that, at least. He’s handsome and somewhat muscular, but in a manner that is painfully cliche and utterly boring. He has sandy blonde hair that falls across his forehead in a shaggy sideways bang, eyes the color of a Malibu beach, and generally soft features with the exception of decent cheekbones. He’s wearing a dull orange polo, khaki pants, Levi sneakers, and an annoyingly giant watch on his wrist that gives the impression he’s trying to show off. Harry nearly vomits in his mouth.

Who the fuck would wear a polo willingly? And how brain dead does he have to be to think khakis are still in style? His fashion sense is obviously stunted. It appears his brain is stuck in his middle school phase, when the Justin Bieber haircut and douchey brands were all the rave amongst snotty pre-teens. Also, his watch is an embarrassment. Harry doesn’t know what the guy is attempting— and failing— to show off, considering the accessory is chunky and ugly and not even Versace or Rolex. It’s a disgrace.

As if the forced posh demeanor isn’t enough, the imbecile actually has the guts to have a fake tan. The vampire isn’t surprised, unfortunately, given that eighty percent of all Los Angeles residents think it’s acceptable to dip-dye themselves into a carrot. He faintly wonders if the man’s balls are colored, as well, or if his ass and sack are as pale as his personality probably is. That would be quite the comedic sight either way. Creamsicles for the win, he supposes.

Harry may not be alarmed by the blonde boy’s get-up, but he is disgusted. Thoroughly disgusted. Horrifically disgusted. What is Y/N doing with this moron?

According to what he’s gathered from her personality and the pillow talks they often share, she hates the California stereotype almost as much as he does, if not more. She hates the fake tans and bleached hair and lack of conscience. She hates the outdated teenage brands, cringey jewelry, and fraternity member aesthetic. She especially hates the fact that some of these people don’t understand the basic principles of boundaries. And the thing is, this dude-bro of a man definitely ticks all of those boxes— especially with how close he’s standing next to her, looming above her frame with one arm extended against the surface of her door, trying to look nonchalant and cool as he drawls on about whatever topic they’re discussing.

He’s practically the poster child for everything the girl despises, from the straightened hair to the alter boy church pants to the stupid forest tattoo on his forearm. So what in the flying fuck is she doing entertaining him? What is she doing standing outside her apartment with this trashy, bacon strip-looking, youth leader knock-off, 2012 Bieber impersonator of a human?

It has to be a joke. It just has to. There’s no other valid explanation, except maybe a plea of insanity.

Harry doesn’t realize he’s scowling until the stranger makes eye contact with him. The boy’s face breaks into an expression of unsettled discomfort at the way the vampire is peering at him over his sunglasses, allowing his end of the conversation to falter to dust. Y/N’s brows cinch at the occurrence, her attention peeling away to follow where her date’s had wandered.

The second her gaze locks with Harry’s intense own, she feels her heart drop to her stomach. Fuck.

Let it be known Y/N didn’t want this. She didn’t want to go on a date with Jacob. In fact, she didn’t know who Jacob was until halfway through this week and she honestly wishes it had stayed that way. She wishes she hadn’t picked up Melissa’s shift with Isabel, she wishes she hadn’t offered to wait that extra table in the back out of the kindness in her heart, and she wishes she hadn’t caught the attention of the customer inhabiting it.

As it turns out, the young man was Isabel’s cousin. He had come to pick her up since the girl’s car had been stuck at the shop for the last few days, and he had arrived a bit earlier than intended, deciding to sit at the back table to wait out the final ten minutes of his relative’s shift. Y/N had simply assumed that he was a regular customer, so she had gone to give him the usual trained introduction in order to follow the golden rule of customer service: Don’t keep a guest waiting.

Jacob had explained the situation to Y/N, to which she responded with a light laugh and an instinctive apology. She had told him she’d go fetch Isabel for him and bid the boy goodbye. In her rational opinion, she had thought that would be it— a simple crossing of two paths that would likely never cross again— but evidently, the visitor had a very different idea.

The human’s shift had continued as planned and everything had been going great until Isabel ducked into the kitchen right before leaving, dancing her way across the room and poking her coworker playfully in the tummy. Apparently, from what Isabel had giddily told her, Jacob had taken an interest in Y/N. It was a bit ridiculous, if you asked her, considering they’d only talked for a total of about thirty seconds before parting routes. But Y/N hadn’t voiced that opinion; she didn’t want to come off as rude.

Jacob had asked his cousin to set them up on a date and that is why Isabel had gone into the back before leaving. Y/N’s immediate impulse had been to decline. She wasn’t interested in seeing anyone at the moment. Other than Harry, of course. He handled all her needs just fine and they got on so well, she’d be crazy to replace him with some random guy she barely knew. She had gone to express this to Isabel in a gentler manner with an apologetic tone, but the words had ended up lodging in her throat. The girl had stared at Y/N with so much excitement, she’d immediately felt a wave of guilt erupt into her chest.

She found it difficult to refuse, given that turning down the offer might come off as bitchy and insensitive. Here Isabel was, trying to innocently play match-maker on behalf of someone she cared about, buzzing with glee and smiling at her so big, her cheeks probably hurt. The last thing Y/N wanted was to upset her by basically telling her that Jacob wasn’t up to par with her standards. Rejecting him could be something her acquaintance took personally and Y/N didn’t want to have to deal with drama in the workplace, especially not with someone whose shifts often mirror her own.

Y/N had reluctantly agreed to the invitation, her only request being that she had to be home by seven thirty. That would give her enough time to prepare for Harry’s visit.

Her compliance had landed her where she is now, standing in front of her apartment door with a boy she has no interest in.

It had been a terrible date, though Jacob took no notice of that. He spent the entire dinner talking about himself, going on and on about his college years, and about how he works at a popular surf shop and could probably get her discounted lessons, and about how he doesn’t think he could survive without his Jeep. How he plays guitar and wants to be a famous actor, how he doesn’t understand why people dislike fake tanning, and how his dad owns a country club in South Carolina. How he loves sports, how he thinks museums are dumb, and how he likes girls who are willing to cook for him after they hookup. How he loves going clubbing and that he misses his ex.

Y/N had nearly groaned out loud at the last two.

It was cruel and unusual torture, in all honestly, and Y/N is just glad it’s over. She’d fulfilled her role— she’d even been nice enough to dress up, to at least finge interest— and could now go free, never having to hear another word about surfboard wax or college football ever again. If only he’d fucking leave.

Jacob had insisted on walking her to the door, which would be sweet if she hadn’t developed a burning hatred for him in the last hour. It came off as annoying and pushy instead, but she allowed it on the grounds of maintaining a polite front.

She shouldn’t have allowed it. As soon as they’d gotten to her door, he’d started talking all over again and Y/N had no choice but to stand there and listen. She couldn’t go anywhere, given that this is her place and she’s expecting someone. She figured she’d give him until seven fifty and then make up an excuse about having to go to the bathroom in order to get him to piss off. That plan had crumbled when Harry had shown up twenty minutes early.

The look of inflamed shock that poses Harry’s handsome features makes her stomach curdle.

She hadn’t meant for him to see this. She’d only gone on the date to spare herself some petty trouble with a coworker. Nothing was bound to come of it, other than a free meal and a guilt-free conscience. It didn’t mean anything and she had no intention of letting it get in between what she and Harry have going. But from an outside perspective, she knows it looks much different.

The agreement they have isn’t exclusive by any means, but over the last five weeks, the pair have grown pretty comfortable with one another and had given connotations that they weren’t kindling other possible relationships. There’s a type of silent agreement between them that if they were to seek out other people, they would share that information with each other on the grounds of courtesy, friendship, and respect. But Y/N hadn’t said a word to spare him the baseless stress and now he’d run into her smack in the middle of what appears to be a very compromising situation; things aren’t looking good at all. It looks like she’s losing interest in Harry and couldn’t be bothered to tell him. It looks like she’s out for a replacement. It looks like she doesn’t care about their connection at all.

This is bad. This is really bad.

Y/N’s voice comes out as a shrill shriek of surprise, her body turning abruptly to fully face his rigid own. “Harry! Uh— hi!”

Harry blinks at her emptily for a moment and she can practically see the gears turning in his head. She can’t read his mind or his expression, but she reckons he’s probably trying to decide if he should follow through on their rendezvous or if he should just leave and never talk to her again. The idea of him choosing the latter makes her mouth go sour.

The vampire’s emerald irises flit back and forth between his friend and the unknown man behind her, trying to interpret the tone and texture of the circumstance. She’s obviously on a date, if her appearance is any indication, and it’s obviously coming to a close right now, exactly when he’s scheduled to arrive.

That’s the determining factor that helps him decide his next move.

Y/N had invited Harry over last Sunday, meaning that she had made their commitment first. This date had to have come into play later in the week, and she had purposefully planned it around their agreed hour in order to give him her undivided attention when the time came. If she had gone out with this guy and then rushed back home to get to him, that must mean she doesn’t plan on indulging another meeting with the stranger. She hadn’t cancelled his visit, either, so that also suggests she isn’t truly interested in this bloke. That makes sense...right?

But that still begs the question: Why had she gone out with him in the first place?

He knows he isn’t owed an explanation, but he also knows that Y/N isn’t the type of person who would just blindside him like this. She isn’t soulless— she’s sweet and caring and generous, so she would never drop him without any warning or consideration for his feelings. She’d never abandon him without telling him why. She’d never do anything that might run a chance of hurting him.

The immortal is more than aware he doesn’t have the right to be upset about it, either. Their arrangement is loose and open on both ends and he likes it that way. He likes that their relationship isn’t weighed down by commitment and monogamy; it gives him a sense of freedom and independence he’s known to thrive off of. It lets him be himself without playing her emotions, and without causing a ruckus in the plans she has for her new life. And he gets the same in return— he gets to have his needs attended without sacrificing his core beliefs. Their friends with benefits trope rides along the wings of an official bond, only giving them what they want and nothing they don’t, which is how it was meant to be. How it should be.

So why does seeing her with someone else make him feel sick to his stomach?

Harry shakes off the ball of contempt writhing in his chest, clearing the tightness from his throat and molding his expression into a facade of calm indifference. Jealousy is for idiots.

The vampire fully wraps his perched fingers around the rim of his sunglasses, removing them from the arch of his nose and tucking the shades along the collar of his shirt. He forces his feet to do their job, his lanky legs lurching forward and falling into a casual stride as he walks towards the two humans awaiting a response.

Harry comes to a stop beside the mortals, clasping his bejeweled hands behind his back and plastering a dazzling grin across his cheeks. He regards his friend with a slight bow of his head, voice airy and carefree as ever. “Hey, Y/N.”

She almost faints in relief. Thank God he’s not mad.

Y/N returns his smile, shoulders visibly relaxing. “It’s nice to see you.”

“S’nice to see you, too. Always such a…” He pauses, licking at the corner of his lips suggestively, giving her a knowing once-over that only she can interpret, “pleasure.”

The girl ignores the heat that immediately floods her cheeks. Of course he’s doing this in front of Jacob. Of course he’s peacocking. “Likewise.”

Harry trains his attention onto the young man before him, pursing his lips into a polite smile. As polite as he can muster, anyways. “And who’s this?”

Y/N blinks herself back into the present, quickly glancing away from Harry’s sharp jaw, though it doesn’t go unnoticed. He feels his ego swell a smidge.

“This is Jacob.” The human comments easily, signaling to him with an upturned palm. “He’s Isabel’s cousin. You remember Isabel, right? You met her at the club.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.” Harry murmurs, glimpsing up towards the ceiling to suggest he’s wracking his thoughts. He has a very vague recollection of the two girls he’d momentarily encountered the day he’d first met Y/N, but it’s hazy and unimportant.

He looks back down at her with sparkling irises, rosy lips twitching with amusement at his next words, knowing they’re going to have a favorable impact. “I guess I was just too distracted by you to pay much attention to anyone else.”

He can hear more blood rush into her face and the ecstasy it brings him is immeasurable. He cranes his sight back onto Jacob, who has the slightest crease in his brows at Harry’s compliment. Good. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The monster unclamps his hands and juts one out stiffly towards the mortal. “M’Harry. Good to meet you, mate.”

Jacob returns the gesture, grasping Harry’s hand firmly in a way the vampire knows is to try and establish dominance. It tickles him when humans try to be tough, especially because Harry could tear his arm right out of its socket as easily as he could lift a sheet of paper. The creature tightens his grip to match the man’s, purposefully putting a tad more strength in to make a silent point. He has to withhold the urge to crunch the boy’s fingers to dust.

They both release from the exchange and a wave of dark satisfaction trickles into Harry’s bones when he sees Jacob curl and stretch his digits in mild pain.

Y/N watches the whole scene with a breath trapped in her lungs. This feels surreal.

The blonde clears his throat softly, mouth jilting into an empty smile and it’s obvious he’s only doing it just to keep things civil. “Good to meet you, too. I take it you’re British?”

“Pure-bred.” Harry remarks proudly, shrugging his shoulders offhandedly as if it’s no big deal. His gaze slinks towards Y/N for a second, tongue pushing along the inside of his cheek smugly. “It works wonders with the ladies.”

A flicker of spite stains the blue in Jacob’s eyes and the vampire feels like his soul is ascending. This is fun.

“I can only imagine.” His opponent responds, voice somewhat strained as he directs his next question to the two friends. “So how do you know each other?”

Harry opens his mouth to make an arrogant comment along the lines of, “A club. A few drinks. Some amazing sex. Y’know, the usual.” but Y/N knows him well enough that she anticipates it, speaking over him loudly before he can even get a syllable out.

“We met at a club and hit it off really well. Been friends ever since.”

The immortal has to keep himself from adding something snarky to the end of her summary. He only does it because he can see a sharp warning flash across Y/N’s eyes. It’s wordless, but stern nonetheless: Don’t.

Harry swallows down his dig and feels it burn a hole in his stomach. Why is she protecting his feelings?

In all honesty, Y/N is only doing it out of kindness and nothing else. As annoying as Jacob may be, he doesn’t deserve to be embarrassed simply because Harry wants to feed his pride. It may be funny, but it’s pretty immature.

“Right.” Harry sighs happily, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Friends. Good friends. Close friends. Intimate friends.”

Y/N presses her lips into a straight line to keep herself in check. He’s trying to work her over and, unfortunately, he’s succeeding.

“That’s nice.” Jacob nods casually, the innuendo luckily going right over his head.

“Yeah, it is.” Harry states, eyes glinting mischievously as he quickly studies the man once again. He can’t help himself, he truly can’t. Not when this terribly-styled buffoon makes it so fucking easy. “I like your tan, by the way.”

The human looks down at his arms for significance, eyes brightening. “Thank you! I got it done at that new place in—”

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. Looks almost real.”

Jacob blinks blankly at the backhanded compliment. “Oh—?”

“I mean, it’s got a few streaks here and there and your left arm looks a little more orange, but I think—”

“Anyways!” Y/N swiftly cuts in, interrupting her friend’s judgmental spiel and directing her attention towards her date. “Harry and I were actually planning on going to see a movie, which is why I had to be home by seven-thirty— we do it every Friday. And the movie starts at eight and traffic’s a bitch, so that’s why I was in such a hurry to get home.”

Jacob nods slowly, giving her a sweet, understanding smile that makes Harry’s supernatural blood boil. “I see. Well, I—”

The vampire interrupts him once again, condescension flaring in his chest and dancing across the specks of amber surrounding his pupils. “Yeah, Y/N and I go to the theater every Friday. Recently, we’ve been going to the movies every single day of the weekend. And most times, we see several movies a night.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches at Harry’s barely-veiled insinuation. She tries to talk over him, but he beats her to the punch.

“Y’know what I’m talking about, right, Y/N?” He nudges her side playfully with his elbow, ignoring the way her eyes tell him to cut it out. “Remember that time we saw three movies in one night? Or the one that had the jacuzzi in it?”

The girl glimpses over at Jacob, who looks utterly confused and uncomfortable. “Harry—”

“Or what about that crime film, yeah? The one with the handcuffs.” He pinches at her love handle teasingly, reveling in how her entire torso tenses under his touch. “The one where they grabbed the criminal and slammed them up against the mirror? You have to remember that one. It’s hard to forget.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough talk about—”

“Oh, c’mon, dove.” Harry slings an arm around her shoulders nonchalantly, squeezing her into his body and feeling Jacob’s glare pierce the side of his face. He stares intently into Y/N’s irises, dimples winking awake at the needy desperation gradually inking its way into their reflection. His tone comes out soft but heavy with authoritative suggestion— the kind he always uses in bed. “Tell me you remember.”

Y/N gulps quietly, mumbling her words begrudgingly. “Yeah, I...I remember.”

A coy hum runs along the back of the vampire’s throat as he licks across his top teeth slyly. “I think that was your favorite one, wasn’t it? You seemed to have really enjoyed it. Like, properly enjoyed it. Loved every single second, if I recall correctly.”

The human forces herself to cast her intent elsewhere, ears simmering and breathing stuttering ever so slightly. Her sight lands back onto a very frazzled Jacob, who is looking at the pair as if they’d sprouted horns, shifting unsurely across his feet. The expression of innocent befuddlement on his face makes guilt twist into her heart.

The mortal roughly shrugs off Harry’s arm, stepping forward and placing a palm on Jacob’s wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you so much for the date. It was...nice.”

Harry’s fists clench at his sides, though the action goes unnoticed.

The human boy nods giddily at Y/N, glancing down to where she’s touching him so tenderly. “‘Course! I had a great time, too.”

“Make sure to tell Isabel that. Maybe it’ll get her to do some sweeping on my behalf.” The girl jokes, giggling softly right along with the stranger.

Harry can feel his nails threatening to break into his skin.

“We really have to get going, though, so I guess I’ll see you around?” Y/N prods, gifting her date one last beautiful smile to ease the awkwardness that had settled into the atmosphere, courtesy of Harry’s antics.

“Sure!” Jacob bobs his head in agreement, pulling out his phone and swaying it symbolically. “You have my number, just text me whenever.”

“Sounds good.”

Once the young man’s footsteps have faded down the complex’s staircase, Y/N swivels around on her heel to face Harry, arms falling across her chest in an irritated fashion. Her face pinches with annoyance as he leans casually against her door, his own arms folding over his strong chest with his fingers tapping along the inside of his elbows, attitude depicting not a single care in the world.

He crosses his ankles easily, brows quirking at the way she’s blatantly glaring at him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that people whose names start with a letter ‘J’ are bound to ruin your life?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry!” Y/N snaps, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling as her glossed lips dip into an aggravated grimace. “Are you serious right now?”

He tilts his head curiously, stifling a simper. “What’s wrong, love?”

“What’s wrong?” She retorts with a humorless laugh, astonished at his ability to act so purposefully dense. “You’re a fucking dick, that’s what’s wrong.”

The vampire sputters into a round of boyish cackling, his entire body shaking against the surface below him as his eyes crinkle shut in mirth. Y/N would be further infuriated if it wasn’t so damn cute.

Harry’s laughter slowly dies down and once he has himself composed, his shoulders rise and fall once dismissively. “I was just fucking around. I didn’t think much of it.”

“You didn’t think—?” Y/N chokes out in indignation, stomping over to him and poking him straight in the chest, right over his butterfly tattoo. Her perfume makes his mind swim in the best way imaginable. “You didn’t think for a second, in that big head of yours, that talking about our sex life in front of my date was overstepping?”

Hearing Y/N officially refer to Jacob as her date makes Harry’s mood drop somberly. He tries to push it down and keep up a comical edge, but it’s harder than he’d care to admit. His accent comes out small and almost fragile, much to her surprise. “Well, I didn’t know you were on a date. Maybe if you had told me, I wouldn’t have come.”

His words sting for some unknown reason.

The mortal draws closer to him until he’s hovering above her, arms dropping down to her sides to fiddle with the hem of her dress as she tilts her chin upwards to get a better look at his stoney face. All anger melts right out of her voice, replaced by her usual delicate cadence. “Well, I...I didn’t think you’d care, really.”

“I don’t.” He replies a little too quickly, a small pang of regret pricking his chest when her face immediately falls. “I mean...I mean it as in, like...I’m not keeping tabs on you or anything. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to limit you.”

Y/N looks back up at him from under her lashes, tone unreadable. “I didn’t think you were. Limiting me, that is. You don’t...limit me.”

Harry nods his head sharply in relieved confirmation, coughing a bit. His throat feels drier than usual and he knows it’s not for a blood-driven reason. “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I do.”

“Alright.”

A charged silence befalls the ambiance between them and the vampire comes to the conclusion that getting his neck snapped was less painful than having this conversation. At least that was quick, whereas this is grueling and horribly uncomfortable, ridden with anxiety and too many elongated pauses. They are walking on extremely thin eggshells around one another, which is something they’ve never had to do before. They have always been on the same wavelength about their relationship and not once has such a nerve-inducing instance come to pass. Now a wrench has been thrown into their metaphorical mechanism and the nuts and bolts are dismantling by the handfuls, leaving them barren and closed-off more than ever. He can feel this situation straining their friendship and he hates it more than he hates those stupid tapestries she fancies.

“If you knew you were gonna be busy,” Harry starts carefully, gluing his attention to a random stain on the cement ground as he scuffs the heel of his boot against her dirty welcome mat, “why didn’t you just text me and cancel?”

Y/N takes a shaky inhale, focusing on tracing the faded cursive letters on her rug. “I...I still wanted you to come.”

Harry’s foot halts its motions, gaze jumping to her for a thoughtful second, brows knotting with mild confusion at her confession. If she still wants him in her bed, why was she indulging someone else? “You wanted me to come?...Why?”

“Because Fridays are our days.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. Our days. Their days. Theirs.

The brunette clears his throat to try and saw away at the tension, shifting against the door as the subject delves into heavier territory. He’s never been one to stutter— he’s much too confident in himself to ever have that issue— but it seems to have become a new development whenever Y/N is around. “If...If you want— uhm...If you want to see other people, you obviously don’t need my permission or anything. But I’d like a little heads-up, just so I know where we stand.”

Y/N releases a curt sigh of exasperation and somehow, Harry can tell it’s not aimed towards him. It’s aimed towards herself.

She fidgets with the tips of her fingers, talking to the floor but directing her message towards her friend. “It’s not what you think, H.”

Harry pins his intent back onto her face, intrigue fully peaked. “What do you mean?”

Y/N takes another trembling breath, releasing it through her nose as a tired exhale. She can feel him looming over her, waiting for an appropriate response with his lips set into a detached line, his ever-present aroma of vanilla and tobacco muddling her thoughts. “I...I mean the date. It wasn’t truly a real date, per se.”

The vampire’s eyes bore into her relentlessly as he clings onto every syllable she speaks. He’s clutching to a form of hope that he deems absolutely humiliating. “How so?”

Y/N picks at the chipping lavender polish on her nails and he finds it adorable how the color of the lacquer matches one of the main notes in her scent.

She speaks up softly and honestly, and he thinks he detects a shred of guilt to her explanation. “Isabel was the one who set it up. Her cousin came into the cafe and when he saw me, he asked her to get me to go on a date with him. I have no actual interest in Jacob, but I said yes just to be nice. I didn’t wanna upset Isabel by making her think her cousin wasn’t good enough for me or something. That’s the only reason I went.”

Harry slowly twists his lionhead daylight ring around his middle finger, simultaneously thumbing over the opal on his pinky. The stone is cold to the touch, but not nearly as cold as his skin.

He reiterates her story slowly, wanting to make sure he interpreted correctly. “So...you only went on the date because you felt bad? You don't actually like him?”

Y/N’s hands plop down against her thighs as she tilts her head back up to look at him, her tone and eyes completely deadpan. “Well, when you say it like that, it makes me sound kind of mean.”

Harry snorts softly, mouth buckling into his signature crooked smirk. “It’s pretty cruel, to be honest— giving that poor bloke hope like that. Very malicious of you.”

Y/N kicks at his ankle jokingly, her lips toying with a grin. “Shut up.”

“You should be careful. Something tells me his ego bruises easily.”

“Oh, is that so? What makes you say that?”

The vampire sucks at his teeth, tapping his chin in faux thought as he shrugs his brows tauntingly. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably the overly-tight shirt and fraternity ring. Seems to me like he’s trying to make up for something he lacks. Probably in the intimacy department.”

Y/N chews along her cheek to keep from bursting into giggles. “You are cruel.”

“I prefer the term ‘brutally honest.’ Sounds classier.”

“Right. Because you’re all about class.”

“Heyyyy!” Harry whines in exaggerated insult, face contorting with dramatic offense. “I’m a classy guy! I have the English accent and fancy chandeliers to prove it!”

“Right. Super classy.”

“I’m a proper gentleman.” The monster huffs with begrudging finality, irises glitzing deviously. “That is, until you beg me to behave otherwise.”

“Fuck off.”

He looks down at her over the crests of his sharp cheekbones as she gazes up at him with a humorously flat expression, feeling all the pent-up stress from the previous events dissolve away into nothing. Harry reaches forward, taking a single curled strand of her hair and moving it behind her shoulder to get a better look at her face. The gesture makes Y/N’s heartbeat hiccup. Especially when that same forefinger ends up poised below her chin, his thumb distractedly caressing across her jaw.

The creature’s next sentence comes out low and almost vulnerable. “So it meant nothing, then? Are you sure? Because I don’t want to get in the way of your dating life if you—”

“It meant nothing.” Y/N confirms, bobbing her head once insistently. She cradles her cheek into his icy palm, keeping their eyes locked as she gives it a gentle kiss, her insides fluttering when Harry’s breathing hitches. “I’m not gonna be seeing him again anytime soon. Or ever, probably. And that’s why I didn’t mention it to you— because I knew it wouldn’t change anything between us. You’re the only person I’m interested in right now.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

The young man swallows thickly, leaning down to smudge his nose across the girl’s and the action erupts a certain flood of warmth so powerful, it could very well kickstart the dead organ below his ribs. His voice is tumbling down his numb tongue before he can think to stop it. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

Y/N’s fingers stretch upwards to wrap around his wrist securely, almost as if to tether him and eliminate the chance of his touch slipping away. Her whisper is trembly and raw. “You have?”

Harry knows he’s allowing this to wade into dangerously grey waters, but he can’t find it in himself to care, at the moment. “Yeah. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Couldn’t stop thinking about how good you felt last time.”

The mortal teeters onto the tips of her toes, flirting her mouth over her friend’s, a prickling sensation stemming from where their cupid’s bows brush. She glimpses at him amidst her lashes, glassy eyes reflecting his need right back at him. “Tell me more. Please?”

The breath of Harry’s words is hot against her mouth, his eyes lulling closed as he recalls all of the memories from the last few days. “I just couldn’t shake it. You were just so tight and warm and the way you were pushing back against my thrusts...the way you were shaking and whimpering...the way you flipped around and slammed your mouth to mine because you wanted me to moan onto your tongue….It was so fucking filthy, I just— I couldn’t—”

His control begins to shatter and the immortal can feel desperation leak through the cracks webbing across his composure. Y/N isn’t helping any, considering she’s started suckling lightly at his bottom lip, her free hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Keep going.”

Harry gulps heavily before continuing. “I touched myself while fantasying about you. Lost count of how many times, honestly. But I came so hard every single one. It was pretty easy to lose myself like that, just sitting there thinking about everything we do. Thinking about how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, taking it down your throat like such a good fucking girl. How nice your arse feels in my hands, especially when you ask me to spank it. How snug you are when you sink over me, stretching around it like it’s made just for you. How the little noises you make sound so fucking perfect— like a song, really. And...and how good you taste between your thighs. S’like honey. Just so fucking sweet.”

There’s a pause as Harry’s words sink into the air, his dirty confessions pulling passion taut into existence between the two lovers. They’re all over each other in less than a heartbeat.

Y/N begins to fumble with the small purse she has strung across her body, frantically fishing for her keys as Harry delights himself with sponging his lips across the slope of her jaw, grinning into her skin at the little curses escaping her throat. He absolutely adores how whipped she gets for him.

The human manages to retrieve her key, jamming it into the lock blindly as her eyes blur with tears of sheer need, stemming from the tiny shots of bliss Harry is instilling through the sloppy pecks he’s trailing down her jugular. She hastily turns the knob, bumping her full weight into the door and nearly fainting in relief when it swings open. She turns sharply to face him, roping her arms around his strong shoulders and pulling him into her, shuddering at how incredible it feels to have his strong torso flushed to hers so intimately. Harry allows himself to be yanked forward into her apartment, giggling softly when she crashes their mouths together messily, harshly tugging him past the threshold.

The vampire’s lean arms wrap around her waist as the young woman maneuvers their connected bodies into the narrow hallway of her flat, one of her hands waving around wildly until it succeeds in shoving the door shut. Y/N slams Harry up against the closest wall, feverishly fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt and nearly ripping them out of their designated holes. Her hands quiver as she races down the seams, her eyes tinging darker when Harry leans his head back against the panel and smirks down at her smugly.

He gnaws on his bottom lip, his half-lidded gaze mocking her hysteria as his voice comes out deep and melodic as always, slathered with self-assured arrogance. “You’re so cute when you’re this eager to fuck me.”

Y/N pants against his twitching lips, tearing his top down his broad figure and shamelessly groping at his swollen biceps. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Harry abides, lulling his tongue along her upper lip and thrumming deeply when her digits trickle down his abdomen. He coos into her mouth as she begins fiddling with his belt buckle. “What, no interior design emergency this time? You’re losing your touch, darling.”

The girl pulls the leather strap off his pants in a frenzy, scoffing at his stupid quip and breaking their kiss to speckle her mouth down his bare chest, feeling it stutter below her influence. “I got some new chairs for my dining table. Wanna take a look?”

The boy’s fingers card into her roots as she descends down his stomach with wet pecks, his eyes rolling closed with a strained grunt. She bites along his fern inkings and his hips buck forward in response, his grip on her hair tightening when she palms over the outline of his clothed cock. “You know I’m always a sucker for some good dining chairs.”

As it turns out, Y/N had actually gotten some new chairs, much to Harry’s surprise.

They’re nice, in his opinion. They seem sturdy enough, with metal backrests and legs that are covered in tarnished gold paint that gives a pleasing rustic look. But in the end, Harry doesn’t really much care for the details of the furniture. All he cares about is if they’ll manage to withstand Y/N’s weight as he shoves her onto her knees atop the chair and bends her over the back. Or if they’ll stay put as he pounds into her from behind with a fist in her hair and his letter rings marking across her backside. That’s all that truly matters.

Despite having done this countless of times before, this particular instance feels different. Both of them can tell, but Y/N feels it more prevalently. Specifically, in the bottom of her stomach and in the pain sweltering across her ass.

Harry’s just…rougher. He’s still himself, so he makes sure she’s okay with everything he does before doing it, but when he gets the green light, he doesn’t let it go to waste. His grip on her roots is harsh, with his nails digging into her scalp as he jerks her head back to bring her in for a kiss, her spine arching into a semi-circle. The position is difficult given the amount of flexibility required, but Y/N powers through. She quite likes it, actually— it gives him a deeper range of depth, somehow. She can feel him touching the trench of her tummy and she refuses to do anything that might make that stop.

The kiss is upside down, but the vampire doesn’t let that deter him. It’s still dirty and heedless, with lots of biting and overzealous tongues, broken whines and fractured pleas. Y/N freely moans into his mouth, gasping and mewling to his every thrust with a certain type of helplessness that flogs the flames blistering Harry’s dormant veins. He loves that he makes her feel helpless, especially because she makes him feel the exact same way.

His stride is fast and deep and unapologetic— vengeful, almost, and they both know why. Even though Y/N had told the creature that the date had been nothing but a selfless chore, he can’t seem to let it go as easily as she had. He finds himself wanting to prove to her that he’s better than that insipid stranger. That he can give her everything she wants without a single issue. That he can deliver everything she needs with expert skill and relentless force, just as she prefers. That he can make her entire body tremble in overstimulation and make every fiber of her being tingle with sheer pleasure, just by gifting her a few adamant snaps of his hips and by muttering a couple filthy promises onto her unfeeling tongue.

“Bet he wouldn’t be able to make you feel like this, huh, pet?” Harry growls against her swollen lips, plunging his thick length into her and nudging at that sweet spot that makes her toes curl. “Bet he wouldn’t know how to handle you— how to handle that tight cunt and that sharp tongue. Could never take care of you the way I do, isn’t that right, baby?”

Y/N rattles her head in her friend’s grasp, releasing fragmented noises of bliss as he hikes her dress further up her ass and gives it another brutal spank. She can feel his rings imprinting across her sweaty skin and she strives off it more than she should.

Her voice comes out garbled and weak. “N-No one can make me feel as good as you.”

“Damn straight.” Harry grits out, breaking their prolonged kiss to rest his chin against her damp forehead, looking down at her from over his sharp, tinted cheekbones. “Nobody can fuck you into a begging mess like I can. Whose pretty cunt is this, angel? Who’s the only one who gets to call you their little slut?”

The electricity crackling around his pupils is borderlining on unhinged, but she adores it. The fact that she can drive him to the brink like that feeds the affinity she has to win his praise. “It’s yours, Harry. Just yours— it’s always just you. You’re the only one. Nobody e-else— fuck, oh my God!”

“You got all dolled up for him, though. Why’s that’s, hm?” Harry’s hold releases from her hair and fumbles down to her throat, the pads of his fingers leaving bruises across her jugular as he grunts lowly with every hellbent ram. “If you didn’t care, why’d you get all pretty, then? Why’d you wear perfume? And why’d you wear that dress— my dress?”

Y/N’s lashes flutter as he refers to her outfit, which is the same one she’d had on the day they had officially established their loose arrangement. Hearing him call it his— hearing him claim it as his own with so much dominant confidence— makes the pit of her belly froth. It is his. Sure, she’d worn it for the sake of looking presentable, but it was only to satisfy the basic rules of what a date entails. In truth, under the excuse of inherent kindness, she’d worn it because she knew Harry would see it afterwards. Because she knew he liked it. Because she wanted to please him.

The girl communicates that to him now in the form of a feathery mumble, staring up at his angered eyes with a moony, innocent aura. “I wore it f-for you.”

The intense jealousy present in Harry’s clenched jaw and furrowed brows dissipates, replaced by soft awe at her wispy affirmation. He pants as he absorbs the real meaning behind her entire appearance, feeling sparks ignite in his heaving chest. “You...You did it for me?”

Y/N struggles to swallow in his rough grip, nodding a bit as her fingers tighten around the edge of the chair. “I know you like it and, well…I like making you happy.”

Harry’s lips part in astonished wonder, though he’s not so sure why her admission had caught him off guard. She’s told him plenty of times that she likes giving him what he wants, but this just feels slightly more personal than anything else she’s ever uttered during an orgasmic stupor. It’s tipping along one of the lines they had sworn not to cross.

The vampire hadn’t even realized his strokes had tapered to a halt, and apparently neither had she. They’re both too busy looking into each other’s eyes with expressions that neither can decipher. The tense pause only lasts maybe three seconds at most, but it feels like they manage to fit an eternity of uncertain silence within that short time frame.

Harry cuts through the moment by clearing his throat, intent on changing the subject into something much lighter that will allow them to return to their previous activity. However, the words that rasp out of his raw lips are ones he hadn’t consciously consented to. They come from a sincere nature he’d suppressed for so long, he didn’t think it was possible for it to ever resurface again. “I like making you happy, too.”

Y/N blinks up at him with her usual doe-like air, the corners of her lips twitching fondly at his requited compliment. “I guess we just like making each other happy, then, don’t we?”

The monster has never been more thankful for her witty personality. It gives him the opportunity to stuff his emotions back into the box they belong, allowing him to regain his typical composure and return her banter without a hitch. He bursts into a round of wheezy giggles, tapping at the hollow of her throat playfully. “I guess so. We’ll add that to the list of things we do to each other, right under ‘excite.’”

The rest of the session goes as usual, thankfully. Some more degrading names are exchanged, positions are switched, hickies are stained on fleshy thighs and damp shoulders, and Harry’s array of rings paint an art piece across Y/N’s backside that he thinks is worthy of the Louvre. His initials are signed on it and everything.

The pair end up splayed across her trusty old couch, catching their breaths from the heavy exertion they’d just put each other through. Y/N is still in her dress, though it’s rumpled, damp, and the thin straps are hanging off her shoulders limply. Harry is bare, as he always is after sex, per his raunchy preference. However, Y/N had made him cover himself with a blanket in order to keep at least a shred of decency between them. Plus, she’d said she didn’t want his “limp dick brushing against my dress while we cuddle.”

And that’s what they’re doing now— snuggling on her couch with the human pressed up against the vampire’s side, his arm slung around her shoulders casually as she doodles random shapes across the colored skin of his tummy. She has one leg hooked across his covered hips, which he’s more than happy to allow because he thoroughly enjoys rubbing his palm up and down the back of her thigh; it’s soothing and warm. Y/N entertains herself with nuzzling her head against the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly as he props his chin atop her temple and pets at her frizzy hair with gentle strokes. It’s a nice moment, full of slowly steadying breaths and the hum of the air vent at the other end of the room.

Harry is the first to break the tranquil atmosphere.

“I give the chairs a ten out of ten. IKEA really outsold.”

Y/N slaps her hand down against his naked chest, sputtering into a wave of loud laughter that is unbelievably contagious. “I’m happy you like them ‘cause, uh...they were on clearance. Can’t return them.”

“You lucked out then, didn’t you? Kudos to your ability to pick out decent furniture.” Harry twirls a strand of her tangled locks around his index finger, giving it a playful tug as a grin dimples his flushed cheeks. “Except for when it comes to wall decor.”

“It’s not my fault you're a stuck-up asshole.”

“And it’s not my fault you have a knack for cringey drapery depicting ClipArt images.”

“I’m going to strangle you with one of my tapestries, I really am.”

“Be my guest. At least I won’t have to look at them ever again.” The immortal squeezes her thigh jestingly, his smile widening when she squirms and giggles. “I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been fucking and I accidentally glanced at it and almost went soft.”

“But you didn’t.” She reasons, flicking at one of his nipples in revenge and feeling proud when he hisses softly.

“But I could have.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I could have.” Harry insists stubbornly, reaching up to push a few wet curls out of his tired eyes. “Have you ever had someone go soft inside you? It’s pretty gross. Highly discourage it.”

“Just close your eyes, then.” Y/N states with finality, pinching at his belly button and cackling in satisfaction when he writhes. “You’re real shitty at solving problems, y’know that? You could never be Sherlock.”

Harry goes quiet for a second and his friend almost looks up to check if he’s alright; he’s too petty to ever back out of anything. But sure enough, his voice comes out a second later, flat and unyielding. “Take down the glorified curtains or I’m never eating you out again.”

“I’ll take down my glorified curtains the day you take down that Stevie Nicks poster on your wall.”

“I refuse to take down Stevie!”

“And I refuse to take down Amanda!”

“You named it?!”

The lovers chat and bicker childishly for a while longer, talking about anything and everything that will keep them entertained. Harry explains to Y/N how his friends had gone on a trip this week (though he makes sure to omit the fact that he had willingly bailed in order to spend time with her) and he’d been alone most of the time. She responds to his story with an incredulous yelp, telling him that he should’ve come over if he wanted some company. She says she would have been more than happy to hang out with him, but he knows she’d been so busy the entire week with work, she probably would have fallen asleep within ten minutes of him arriving. It’s the thought that counts, though, so he thanks her for the belated support, either way.

Y/N talks about a weird customer that had come in and ordered a sandwich with nothing but cucumbers and cheddar cheese on French bread, which she had later recreated to taste-test herself out of curiosity. She can confirm it was abhorrent and the way her nose crinkles with disgust makes Harry snort in endearment. She also tells him about how horribly the date with Jacob had gone, simply because she can tell he’s itching to ask. She recounts everything the young man boasted about, from the annoying college stories to his stupid opinion about clubs. She informs him that she’d never had a more terrible experience in her life and that she wishes she could get that hour of her life back.

Harry can’t help the way his face lights up at how utterly repulsed she sounds. He knew it. He fucking knew she would never insert herself into a romantic situation with such a comedic punchline of a human being. Hearing her confirm his suspicions is almost as pleasurable as what she can do with her mouth. Almost.

The vampire finds himself lost in his thoughts, thinking about how much better the whole event would have gone if it had been him instead. How he would have picked her up from her flat by actually getting out of the car and knocking on her door, rather than just sending her a text to come down. How he would have helped her into his car like a proper gentleman, and how he would’ve aided her back out when the time came. How he would enter the restaurant with his palm resting at the dip of her back, guiding the girl towards their seats and pulling out a chair for her. How they’d make conversation as easily as they always do, and how he’d have her laughing between mouthfuls of food, and how he’d expertly flirt her into a fidgety puddle. How he’d reach over the table to get a bit of sauce off the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin, and how she’d thank him with that shy smile he’d grown to admire. How he’d wave off her suggestion to split the bill, paying it all himself and smirking as she scolds him for it because she likes being hard-headed and independent. How much fun she would actually have, and how she would probably be willing to go out on a second date.

Harry’s comment topples out of his mouth before he can rethink it.

“I bet I could take you out on a better date.”

Y/N’s head snaps upwards to meet his gaze, eyebrows jumping in utter shock. She hadn’t been expecting that from him at all. Ever.

She talks between airy spurts of glee. “That was random.”

Harry doesn’t return the gesture. In fact, his lips don’t even jolt in the slightest. He simply just stares down at her with seriousness decorating his features, long lashes blinking blankly. He doesn’t know what overcame him to make such a bizarre, uncalled for claim, but he can’t take it back now. And he’s not so sure he wants to, honestly. He knows there’s truth to his belief— he could definitely do a better job of wooing her than that Jesse McCartney wannabe. It’s not like it’s hard.

Aside from that, seeing Y/N out with another man had reminded Harry that their little alliance isn’t anything solid— it’s not bulletproof, and he really shouldn’t be taking it for granted. He’d been so cocky and self-assured about himself and what he has to offer, he’d forgotten that there is always the possibility that Y/N might grow tired of him. It may be a microscopic possibility, but it exists, nonetheless. If he wants to keep her interested, he has to up his game a bit, or she might decide that he isn’t worth keeping around. If he wishes to maintain this favorable arrangement where he gets his intimate tendencies tailored and his supernatural necessities sufficed, he needs to give her a more fulfilling reason to stay.

Good sex is a very convincing factor, sure, but there might come a time in her life when she wants more than just a no-strings-attached affair. There may come a time when she’ll mature out of this stage and seek something sturdier and safe and anchored. There may come a time when she wants a real relationship, and if he doesn’t keep her occupied, that could be sooner rather than later. And it could be with someone else. He doesn’t want this convenience taken away from him— doesn’t want to lose the thing they have going, which keeps him out of annoying clubs, out of random people’s beds, and gives him the best blood he’s tasted in the last twenty decades. It’s too comfortable and satisfying to let go. He has to keep her hooked somehow, and if taking her on a date can assure that this flawless dream remains intact, then he’ll gladly do it.

Harry licks his lips slowly, measuring out his next words with immense precision. “I’m being serious. I can definitely do better.”

A million emotions funnel into Y/N’s eyes at once and he can only pick out a select few: confusion, astonishment, fear, denial, and slight unease. There is the chance that the monster may be interpreting all of the human’s feelings incorrectly because, truth be told, he isn’t the best at gauging or handling sentiments. However, there is one he knows he’s not misjudging— it’s the most evident one of all: Excitement.

“Think about it for a second, yeah?” Harry starts, shifting in his seat to get a better look at her, raising his eyebrows decisively. “I’ve already gotten in your pants. That means I have no ulterior motive, right?”

Y/N’s own brows kink a smidge. “I...I guess.”

Her friend continues his speech. “Because of that, it means I won’t rush the date, I won’t expect anything from you, and we already get on pretty well, as it is. It’d be a proper good time— a genuine good time.”

The girl’s eyes flicker around different points of his face, trying to make sure he’s not pulling some type of cruel prank. Her tone comes out hesitant and slow. “That makes sense, I suppose.”

Harry squeezes the back of her thigh reassuringly. “It’s all in mathematics, love; everything adds up. It’s truly an ideal situation, if you ask me. Practically utopian.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, letting it out shakily. This is all so sudden and unexpected, she feels like Harry might burst into laughter any minute and reveal it’s all just a big joke. It’s just not them. It’s out of bound— it scribbles outside the box drawn around their whole dynamic. They were never meant to date, they were just meant to sleep together; they were meant to provide each other with the satisfaction that comes from a real relationship, without all the trials and tribulations. Harry asking her on a date blurs those sacred boundaries in a way she’s not sure she’s ready to face. It could mess everything up. It could not only ruin the fun little arrangement they have going, but it could potentially destroy their entire friendship. Harry is the only person she’s truly connected with since she moved to Los Angeles and risking that bond on an impulsive decision...That’s something she doesn’t think she can afford to do. She can’t survive her new life on her own. This is just too dangerous. Way too dangerous.

But then again...it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it before. She will admit, there have been instances where she’s pictured her and Harry becoming more than just warm bodies to each other. The two days she spent over at his house the weekend prior had solidified those fantasies and made them more frequent. They just click so well, she knows for a fact they’d make a great team. It’d be like dating a best friend, in a way. They fit one another in a manner she didn’t think was possible, and despite the fact they’ve only been acquainted for just over a month and a half, it feels like they’ve been friends for years. She feels like these types of connections are rare to create and she finds herself wishing it could develop into more.

But could it really be worth the potential grievance?

Y/N tunes back into reality, gazing up at Harry with reluctant eyes. She’s surprised to find his are full of confident clarity, as if he’s already sold on the idea and had begun planning their outing. He’s simply awaiting her response at this point, thumbing over her knee gently while tucking her hair behind her ear, lips poised into that lopsided simper that makes her heart skip and her nerves glitch. How could she possibly find it in herself to say no to him?

The mortal clears her throat lightly, gnawing into her cheek as she speaks her next words with airy humor. “So is that your official way of asking me out? ‘Cause if so, that’s not enough. You’re gonna have to do better, love.”

Harry hesitates for a split second, but it’s so fast, his friend doesn’t even take notice. He prays he doesn’t grow to regret this decision.

The boy nods, pursing his mouth into a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I don't think I heard you? Must be the AC.”

Harry rolls his eyes grandly at the stolen joke, which is identical to one he had made two weeks ago when he’d come over for their usual adult pastime and had brought a special toy in tow.

His mood comes out theatrical, accent heavily exaggerated. “Dear fair maiden, would you be so kind as to do me the impeccable honor of allowing me to bask in your presence by attending a luncheon with me, preferably sometime in the near future? Thank you so much for your consideration. Sincerely signed...” The creature takes a pause, proceeding to sing his next words to the tune of a song they are both familiar with, given their interest in the Hamilton play. “Your Obedient Servant, H dot Styles.”

Y/N explodes into a series of giggles, shaking her head as she reaches up to peck at his grinning lips.

“It would be my pleasure.”

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