#vampire!harry x reader

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Love Bites | Old School Love Universe

summary: harry's not fed in a while and you just want to help.

word count: 2.1k

read time: 9 min

content warnings⚠️: vampire!harry x human!reader, fluff, angst (if you squint), mentions of biting and blood and vampire biology

a/n: i guess this is a series now? haha enjoy!

Old School Love Universe

For the last week Harry has been avoiding you, which is very unlike your boyfriend. A complete deviation from his normal, arguably clingy, behavior. He’d answer your texts, but would find every excuse not to see you, and your phone calls always seemed to be cut short. You knew it probably had nothing to do with you, but it was beginning to hurt your feelings.  Especially after turning a corner in your relationship following some doubts he’d been having about whether or not you really didn’t mind he was a vampire, you were worried about this seemingly massive step backwards. So you did what any rational girlfriend would do after being ignored by their boyfriend for a week. You showed up at his front door. 

Is forcing a confrontation with Harry a good idea? Probably not. But as the days went on you went from annoyed that Harry was ignoring your text to sad to down right worried about him. So you told yourself it was nothing more than a wellness check, and marched across town to his apartment. 

You exited the elevator of his building, and headed to his door to see a few packages at his front door. He either hadn’t bothered to open his door in a few days or worse, he hadn't been home since he left your apartment last week. 

You didn’t want to panic, he was a vampire he could take care of himself, you're sure of it. But the ‘what if’ swarmed your mind as you lifted your fist knocking on the door. You didn’t hear anything for a moment and decided to knock again. This time you hear some rustling on the other side. 

“Harry. I can hear you in there.” you sigh, relieved at some proof of life. 

After a few moments and more shuffling from the other side of the door, he opens the front door just a crack peeking his head out just barely. Still you can see he doesn’t look like himself.  He looks tired, skin dull with bags under his eyes, and a major case of  bedhead, despite it being mid afternoon. The worry that had dissipated at the knowledge that he was at least safe at home, came back at the sight of him. 

“Doll, what are you doing here?” Harry asks tightly. 

“Open the door and we can talk about it.” you pout, giving him your best doe eyes. 

“You shouldn’t be here, baby.” 

“And why’s that?” 

He looks down shifting his feet, shifting his weight “I - I haven’t fed in a while.” He admits and your need to be close to him grows, although he's determined to keep his distance. 

“Harry, let me in.” you plea, but he shakes his head. 

“Baby Doll, I really shouldn’t.” He wants to let you in, but he’s scared, terrified actually. He knows he won’t hurt you. He’d do everything in his power to make sure that you were safe, which is why he’s iced you out recently. But he’s also never been around you while being as hungry as he is now. His plan was to keep his distance until he was able to reup on his blood bags, get fed and then give you all the cuddles and kisses to make up for him going MIA. You showing up at his door unannounced was not part of the plan. 

“Open the door Harry…please.” There’s a bit of edge to your voice but your eyes are soft and full of sympathy. 

He chuckles a little, shaking his head at your attitude.  My stubborn girl, he thinks. He should have known you weren’t going to leave him be, especially after not having seen him in so long. He opens the door slowly, stepping aside and allowing you to come in. He turns and locks the door. When he turns back to you, you rush in to hug him, nearly knocking him over. 

“It’s dangerous for you to be here while I’m like this.” he sighs sadly as he melts into your hug, though arms don’t quite wrap around you like they normally would. 

“Like what?” you ask brushing some hair from his forehead, and the proximity makes him suck in a breath. He takes your hand kissing your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“I told you, I haven’t fed in a while. I’m too…thirsty for you to be here right now honey.” 

“I know you’re not going to hurt me.” you say confidently and squeeze his hand in yours, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too, baby. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” 

Your heart breaks at that. You know Harry would never intentionally hurt you, and knowing that he felt he had to lock himself away to keep you safe broke you, just a little. “How long has it been?” you ask and he looks away from you, and your heart sinks, “You haven’t gone this whole time without anything have you?” you ask in a voice laced with worry. “Harry.” 

“I haven't had anything since I left your apartment Friday.” he confesses, “I was supposed to pick up more on Saturday, but my guy at the hospital said they were getting suspicious, and I needed to wait until after the blood drive this weekend, to pick up more.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

“That’s why I didn’t call you.”  He hated to admit it, and he hated discussing  his diet and hunger with you.  But he promised you honesty after he told you his secret and he meant it. But seeing the worry in your eyes now, has made him realize maybe he’s done a shitty job at keeping that promise. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I was just trying to keep you safe. Keep my distance.” 

“I understand.” you sigh, “I just wish you would have told me instead of ghosting me. And I wish you would trust me with things like this H.” 

“I do trust you.” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly, and then you get an idea. 

“Come here.” you say dragging him to his couch. You sit him down and sit in his lap. He tenses, hands on your hips to lift you off but you don’t budge. 

“Doll.” he warns, stiffly, despite wanting nothing more than to hold you close, “I think it’s best if you -” 

“I want you to drink.” 

Harry’s eyes snap to you, brows knitted together. “What?” 

“Drink.” you say, shifting closer, and pulling the hood of your hoodie to the side exposing more of your neck. 

Harry shakes his head, untangling your arms from around his neck, “No, Baby Doll. I’ll be okay. I can get some blood tomorrow and I’ll be good as new okay? Don’t worry about me.” 

“Too late.” you say, kissing his cheek. Harry turns away, sucking in a breath, but you move closer. “Drink.” 

“We’ve talked about this.” 

“And we agreed that you’d only bite me if I asked and feed from me in case of emergency. What would you call this?” 

“Not an emergency.” He insists, looking at you. 

“You’ve taught me enough about vampires by now for me to know that’s not true.” 

Harry sighs, because he hates when you’re right. He has taught you quite a lot, always answering your endless questions, even asking his friends for answers to some of the questions that he wasn’t sure about. And one of the first things you’d asked him was his diet. You’d noticed in your time leading up to his confession that he almost never ate. He’d cook for the two of you, make sure you were always fed but would only have a few bites himself. It’s when you asked about it that he told you that younger vampires like himself need more blood than a vampire older than him. And that the older he got the longer he could go without feeding and the more he’d be able to stomach solids, but for now, he pretty much lived on blood. And going as long as Harry had  admitted he’d gone without blood was bordering on dangerous. 

“Besides” you say, “You don’t let me miss a meal without a lecture. What makes you think I’m going to let you go for a week?” Harry smirks at you, and he shakes his head fondly. He leans forward and presses a much needed kiss to your lips. 

“What have I done to deserve you?” He looks at you in that love sick way that makes your stomach flip and your cheeks warm up.

“That’s very sweet.” you smile playfully rolling your eyes, “Now drink.” 

Harry chuckles, “You’re sure?”  

“Yes, please.” you say, he shifts you to come closer to him and places a soft kiss to your collarbone first, before moving up your neck to a safe spot. 

“Alright.” He sighs giving in. He’ll beat himself up for being too weak to resist later. Now, he was thirsty and physically weak and desperately needed to feed.  “Stop me if you start to feel light headed, okay?” 

“I will. I trust you.” you smile, “I just want you fed.” 

“Thank you.” He says placing a sweet kiss to your lips. 

Harry's bitten you before. Only briefly and only after you asked him too, curious about what it would be like, and wanting him to eat after you’d had your own dinner. And sometimes he’ll allow himself to indulge when the two of you are fooling around. But never has he bitten you while he was actually thirsty and he was a little worried. But knowing you had so much confidence in him, and his ability to control himself made him more comfortable. 

He places a kiss to your collarbone, and a few up your neck before finding a spot safe enough. He counts down from three, to prepare you for the initial sting of the bite before sinking his fangs into your neck. You move a hand to the back of Harry’s head, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, as he drank. 

He drinks slowly, hands on your hips, thumb stroking the skin under your hoodie to distract you from the slight discomfort of the bite. He drinks for a few short moments before he raises his head up. “You doing okay?” he says into your neck. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Just a little bit more okay?” 

You nod your head and encourage him to keep drinking and he does. With every second that passes you can feel yourself getting to that warm and fuzzy place that you tend to get to when Harry bites you.  He’d explained it was a high of sorts, brought on by a mix of the blood loss, and the ‘venom’ from his bite. Scientifically speaking, the purpose was to incapacitate a vampires ‘prey’, make them more pliant for feeding, and more susceptible to compulsion so they’d  forget the encounter after the fact. In cases like yours though, where said ‘prey’ gave in voluntarily, it would cause a short high and a brief spell of giggles. In cases where you and Harry had already been fooling around, well you’d get a little…needy. 

He drinks for a few more seconds, and then pulls away, full and satisfied. He licks the little bit of blood that's dribbled down his lip, wiping his mouth with the back of his own hoodie sleeve. With his fangs still out, he picks his index finger, drawing a drop of blood and rubs it across your bite marks watching them heal instantly. He kisses your neck one more time “There we go. Good as new.” He smiles, planting a kiss on your lips. He looks up at you and sees you looking down at him with dazed eyes, and chuckles. “Are you doing okay Doll?” 

“Yeah. I’m just - ya know.” you smile, waving your hand. “Are you sure you’re good? Full?” 

Harry nods his head, leaning into your hand that you’ve placed on his cheek. He turns, placing a peck to your palm. “I’m much better now.” He smiles sadly. Just that little bit of your blood, and he looks a million times better. His eyes, the bright emerald you were used to, his skin and hair far less dull than it was when you’d first arrived. He still had some bags under his eyes, but he looked leaps and bounds more healthy. 

“Thank you. For letting me…feed.”  

“You don’t have to thank me. Just glad you're okay. Please call me next time, if you end up in this situation again.” 

“I will,” he says holding up his pinky, “Promise.” you wrap your pinky around his, and he leans forward kissing his fists, and you do the same. 

Maybe it was the bite, or maybe it the way that Harry was looking at you, regardless you were pretty sure you were falling in love with a vampire. 

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[heartiella]

[colmiillo]

"I notice i start getting nauseous in the morning and my period is a week late"

Girl i need to fantasies with a hot man that i don't have a chance on, not with a baby,please kill that thing

[valsverse]

‼️ MY EXPERIENCE WITH @girlkisser13

🚨 HARASSMENT & PLAGIARISM 🚨

i want to address a serious issue that has recently come to light regarding a user in the fanfiction community (@girlkisser13) with a concerning history of plagiarism and ongoing harassment. this situation involves not just the act of stealing someone else's work but also a troubling pattern of aggressive behavior that has surfaced, indicating a lack of accountability and growth. it’s crucial for us writers and fans to stand together against such actions to maintain a supportive and respectful community for all creators. with that being said, read below. transparency is key, so i want to share the full context of this situation, including all relevant screenshots. underlined words/sentences include links to posts that are relevant to the incident, so i encourage you to check them out. (if you've recently received a message from an anonymous user about this situation, click here)

SECTION 1 : The Original Plagiarism Incident + Backstory

on june 3, 2023, i was notified by an anonymous user in my inbox that an account called girlkisser14 (now known as girlkisser13 after deactivating her old account) was plagiarizing my work. she repeatedly lifted sections of my writings and headcanons, merging them into her own posts. (note that i pretty much exclusively write for the percy jackson fandom.) after reaching out to her privately i discovered that i could no longer view her posts. at first, i thought she had taken her account down, but it turned out she had just blocked me. by june 5, 2023, i decided to create a post detailing the situation, which you can read here. shortly after, she contacted me, and we managed to come to a resolution. it seemed like a good opportunity for her to acknowledge her mistakes and learn from them. i updated my original post to reflect that the issue had been resolved. later on, she messaged me saying she couldn’t cope with the backlash. while i’m unsure if she was genuinely receiving hate, i felt sympathy for her situation. she asked me to take down the post, but i declined as accountability is important to me and i didn't feel comfortable with just erasing history. soon after, she deactivated her account.

although she deactivated her original account, she shortly after created a new one. i was notified by a different anon about this because her posts were moved to the new account, and some still included my work—presumably by accident. from that point on, she became known as girlkisser13, which can be confusing given her original username was girlkisser14. initially, she missed a few paragraphs of my work, as mentioned earlier, which prompted me to make a post about it (as seen in screenshot 2). however, she reached out to me, and we clarified everything through direct messages. after that, all seemed well!

however, things would get much worse from here. (this main character ahh dialogue bro.. 💀)

SECTION 2 : Account Tries a New Persona, Still Fails at Not Harassing Me.

(september 21st, 2024) an anonymous account messaged me with the following:

to be honest, i was completely baffled. i had completely forgotten about this issue, and out of nowhere, someone decides to bring it back up. it struck me as strange because… who gets so personal over something like this?

the user, which goes by the handle 'multifandombisexual13' also sent the exact same message directly to me, which made it clear that the anonymous message came from them, as shown.

first of all, the usernames are incredibly similar. both have the number 13, and girlkisser13 is a multifandom account. if you look at their profile, you'll notice they only repost stories from girlkisser13. even on the "check out these accounts" sidebar, there's only one account listed: girlkisser13. this is because they only repost content from that account.

let’s be real—this isn’t the behavior of a genuine fan. who goes through that much trouble? it’s obvious that this is girlkisser13 under an alternate handle.

i raised these concerns with the user, and i made sure to respond in a civil manner.

they didn’t respond to my initial message and only replied after I reached out to girlkisser13. i sent her a message about this situation. (just to be clear, this user and girlkisser13 are the same person.)

the user then responded at 4:38 PM. note that her main account, girlkisser13, replied to my message at 4:42 PM. (less than 5 minutes apart.) classic. (dates and times are included right under the text.)

if it wasn’t obvious by now, this person has been harassing me from their alt while pretending to be an innocent bystander on their main account. it’s like they’re playing both sides—using one account to send nasty messages and the other to act like they have no clue what’s going on. it’s honestly ridiculous and kind of sad at this point. (you will most likely have to zoom in to read the screenshots.)

you get the idea: this account goes off on personal jabs, claiming i have some need for control and a massive ego just because i refused to take the post down. i defended myself (obviously), but then she decided to accuse me of being jealous. (???)

i’ve made it clear SO many times—the post stays up for accountability. but no, she’s built up this entire fictional scenario where i’m obsessed with who’s getting more notes or attention. i promise you, i literally could not care less.

every single message is her droning on about “jealousy” or my supposed "ego and control issues," but never once acknowledging the actual point. it’s about holding people accountable for their actions. this isn’t a competition or a takedown—it's about transparency and honesty in the community. and to try and reduce it to some petty jealousy battle? that’s honestly ridiculous and completely out of touch.

like, she’s sitting there imagining i’m losing sleep over someone’s follower count on tumblr of all places. does she even realize how absurd that sounds? i'm a high school student who posts fanfic maybe once a month in a small fandom. tumblr is not my life, and there's definitely nothing here for me to be jealous of.

i don’t care how well someone is doing, i care about transparency and keeping things honest in the community. now, let’s address the obvious here. it’s super weird for another account to be going so hard defending a situation they supposedly have no part in. like, who does that? no one would go to these lengths unless they were personally connected, right? i brought up this whole issue in these screenshots below:

funny how they only stopped harassing me once i mentioned, at the end of my paragraph, that i’d happily make this public. up until that point, it was nonstop. i kept pressing them on whether they were connected to girlkisser13 (and if you somehow forgot—yes, this account and girlkisser13 are the exact same person). it was obvious, but i just wanted them to admit it.

it was around this time that i decided to message her main account, girlkisser13, to clear things up. i figured it was best to go straight to the source and get some clarification, but of course, things only got more suspicious from there.

SECTION 3: Ongoing harassment just a heads-up to pay attention to the account names at the top so you know who I'm messaging.

i like how i don't even have to comment on this part lmao. i sent the situation to girlkisser13 at 11:01 PM, and then at 11:39 PM, their other account decides to confront me about it.

anyways, i tried to get some honest answers from girlkisser13, but it was all just denial. at the very least, i asked her to reach out to the "other user" to stop the harassment.

at this point, girlkisser13 decided to backtrack and throw in an apology. i mean, i still firmly believed they were the same person, but honestly? i was just so exhausted from the whole ordeal that i thought, “whatever, let’s just agree and move on.”

SECTION 4: The Slip Up: GirlKisser13's Attempt at Damage Control

almost immediately after the conversation shown before, i received 13 messages TOTAL in my inbox, all in rapid succession, so obviously, they were all from the same person. i won't show them all because they're essentially the same. each one harassed me about my plagiarism post still being up, mentioning girlkisser13, and accusing me of jealousy in the same short, lowercase writing style. i brought this issue up to girlkisser13.

the first slip-up happened when I received a message from her alternate account, multifandombisexual13. up until that point, all the messages had come through anonymously, but it seems she forgot to enable the anonymous option this time.

shortly after, i got a message in the same style from her main account, girlkisser13. need i say more?

so, naturally, i sent the screenshot over to her main account, just to see what she'd say. and what did i get in return? excuse after excuse. it was honestly kind of impressive how quickly she could come up with new stories to cover her tracks. each response was more outlandish than the last, trying to justify what was blatantly obvious.

my brother sent that message!" yes—because your brother just happens to have access to your account. yes, because your brother happens to also be on tumblr, spending his time catching up on the latest percy jackson fanfiction drama... 💀 the sheer absurdity of it all. the pathological lying is honestly embarrassing at this point.

and, of course, the apologies only start rolling in after she's been caught—clearly just an attempt to redirect the drama and save face.

embarrassing...

SECTION 5: FINAL THOUGHTS—My Brain Hurts

in conclusion, this user does not deserve a platform on this app. she has failed to learn from her past mistakes and has clung to an incident that happened over FOUR MONTHS AGO. it’s time for accountability in our community.

harassment and deception have no place in spaces dedicated to creativity and expression. when individuals prioritize personal vendettas over respect and integrity, they tarnish the very essence of what fandom is meant to be.

it’s crucial that we foster an environment where originality is celebrated and where creators feel safe to share their work without fear of retaliation or harassment.

i highly encourage you to read everything i’ve shared and form your own opinion on the incident, but now you know my point of view.

ADDRESSING COMMON QUESTIONS

1. Isn’t this just a personal dispute?

while this situation is personal to me, it reflects broader issues within our fandoms. it’s not just about my experience; it’s about creating a community that values respect and integrity. we should all feel safe to share our work without fear of harassment or plagiarism. no one should feel comfortable stealing others' hard work or bullying creators into silence.

2. Why are some of the photos lower quality than others?

tumblr has a 30-photo limit, which meant i had to manually combine certain screenshots in a photo editor to get everything in. i also wanted to save space to make sure the most important screenshots could be posted in their highest quality. this is especially noticeable in the banter between me and her alternate account (see Section 2).

3. Why didn’t you just take down the post like she asked? Are you really jealous of her like she accused you of?

• absolutely not. i kept the post up for accountability. this was never about ego, jealousy, or a desire for control, as she accused me of—it’s about making sure people are aware of what happened and holding someone responsible for their actions. removing the post would allow her to escape the consequences of her behavior, which isn’t fair to me or anyone else she may target in the future. trying to turn this into a jealousy issue is a distraction tactic, and honestly, it’s irrelevant to the conversation. it’s not about followers or popularity—it’s about principles. 4. Why make this public? • because i gave her chances to handle this privately, and she chose to continue the harassment. this could have ended quietly, but she made the decision to escalate it. i’m not going to stay silent about someone who continues to lie, harass, and try to manipulate others.

5. Is it really that big of a deal?

yes. i know this whole situation is a bit silly, but plagiarism and harassment are serious issues, whether they happen online or in real life. it’s not just about fanfiction; it’s about respecting people’s work and holding individuals accountable when they cross boundaries.

to wrap this up, if you have any questions or concerns about the situation, feel free to reach out to me. i’ve tried to lay everything out as clearly as possible while trying to get this information out as quickly as possible, but i’m open to any clarifications or further discussion. i honestly don’t know how far this will reach or how many people will see it, but I think it’s important to at least try. for accountability’s sake, i’m tagging all the fandoms she’s active in, so all people can be aware of what’s been happening. hopefully, this will help set a standard in our community for respecting each other’s work and holding people accountable when they cross the line. i understand that some may want to defend her, but it’s crucial to consider the pattern of behavior exhibited. defending someone who has repeatedly shown disrespect for others’ work can enable harmful actions. i encourage people to look at the evidence and form their own opinions rather than simply siding with someone based on personal feelings.

thank you for your time!! ©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

[angelisverba]

praise

in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny

word count: 5.5k

pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)

warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.

author's note: happy late halloween!

When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.

She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.

Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.

Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.

Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.

He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles. 

So y/n had a little crush.

A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it. 

She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her. 

In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.

Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.

But she couldn't.

Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.

She could imagine it.

He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.

And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.

So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.

With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.

A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.

She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.

But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.

She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.

***

Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.

He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.

Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.

A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.

He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.

It reminded him of one his students, y/n.

She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.

But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.

She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.

Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.

But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.

Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by. 

Not that he noticed.

Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.

Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again. 

This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.

He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.

Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.

Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.

It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.

Her hearbeat.

Calm. Steady. Alive.

It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.

He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.

He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.

She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.

Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.

Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.

He had to get her to speak.

The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.

Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”

At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.

Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.

Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.

"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.

But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.

In fact, he looked almost... mad.

Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.

Everything, including her breathing.

He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.

Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."

She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.

Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.

And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.

One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.

This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.

"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"

***

Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.

She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.

He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.

“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.

“Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.

"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.

"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.

"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.

She was wrong.

Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.

Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.

And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.

Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"

She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"

"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.

In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."

She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.

“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.

He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.

"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."

When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.

"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.

"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.

Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.

The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.

"You were a bad girl, y/n."

Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.

She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.

His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"

"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.

He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"

Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”

“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.

“I need to cum, sir. I need-” 

“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”

"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-

"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.

"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.

"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.

"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.

"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.

Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.

Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.

He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"

"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.

"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.

"I understand, Professor"

He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."

*****

happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!

[gurugirl]

THE COUNT | {vamprry} a preview

Series Summary: Count Styles lives on an island you’ll not find on any map. He’s lived in relative solitude for ages and is happy to have the rare occasional guest who accidentally runs into his small slice of the world, though they may not be as thrilled by his intentions once they find out what he is.

When Y/n's weather vessel crashes into his island one stormy night he greets her and offers her shelter in his castle while she waits for someone to help repair her boat. She soon comes to adore the strange and charming man and grows a worrying attachment. But she cannot help herself. No matter how much she learns about the Count and how strange her world has become she cannot seem to pull herself out of the haze of his alluring spell.

Even when her life depends on it.

..

Short preview below.

NOTE: this preview is from part 2

. . .

Pressing her ear closer to the door she closed her eyes and there was a distinct male voice, a sobbed moan that, after a loud thud, turned into something like a pitiful crying. But then she heard another voice and there was something familiar in the way it cooed and teased almost. She could not make out words but the sentiment was clear. There were two people in that room having sex and one of them was Harry. The other sounded to be a man.

Stepping back from the door she realized her mouth was hung open in surprise. Perhaps the Count was into men. Well, he was quite pretty. She could imagine that she supposed. Before she could even turn around the sounds behind the door stopped and the silence that suddenly surrounded her had her heart picking up a beat. Had she made a noise?

She swallowed and turned her head to see her door open down the hallway and wondered if she could make it quickly before anyone knew that she’d been listening in.

But the moment that thought popped into her head the door opened up and there was Harry in a long white cotton pijama, the top unbuttoned and nearly draped off his shoulder. She glanced over his frame and back up to his eyes but he was different. His irises were almost black and his mouth was set strangely, like he had swollen gums, “Would you like something, Y/n?”

Shaking her head she stepped back, “No. Sorry. I… heard something… nothing. I’m going back to bed. Sorry!”

She turned to move away but he stopped her, his hand wrapped around her upper arm, making her twist back to face him, “Are you sure don’t want anything?”

She darted her eyes behind him to the room he’d been in and it appeared to be lit by a fireplace. She saw something move across the doorway but couldn’t make out what (or who) it was.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you. That… I was just worried…”

He smiled, his lips covering his teeth as he closed the door behind him and stepped in dangerously close, holding her arm to keep her from inching away. He looked down at the dirtied material tucked under her arm and he grunted softly, “Oh my. What is this?”

Letting go of her arm he plucked the defiled sheets and nightgown from her and dropped the sheet to the floor, his hands crumpling around the white fabric, thumb dragging into the slippery wetness where her arousal had dripped.

She felt herself flush hot with embarrassment as she watched the Count inspect the damage she’d done to her nightgown. It was obvious what it was he was looking at.

“Poor, Y/n,” his dark eyes met hers as he lifted his thumb to his mouth and ran the pad of his digit against his tongue, eyes fluttering closed when he swallowed.

All of the breath in her lungs was caught and now the flush of heat was forming in her tummy as she watched him enjoy the taste. Her taste.

His jaw clenched as he opened his eyes and looked down at her, dark irises raking over her frame and then back up to her face, a deep exhale escaping his chest, “We’re all carnal beings, Y/n. There’s no shame in the body’s natural reaction to an arousing dream. All you have to do is call for me next time and I’ll make the emptiness go away. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

She couldn’t blink or look away from him. She was trapped by his haunting gaze as he drew a finger from her jaw up to her temple and then back down until he’d gently scraped his nail over her pulse point, pressing in just enough to make a small indent bite into her flesh, before lifting and pushing his nail in crosswise against the same spot.

“X marks the spot. Doesn’t it, Y/n?”

She gulped, “What’s that mean?”

Harry lowered his face close to hers. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, “If you ask politely,” he wrapped his hand around the side of her neck, thumb dragging against her jaw, “I’ll show you what it means.”

. . .

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xoxo

[freedomfireflies]

Bite Me*

Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where your boyfriend, Harry, is a vampire.

And you wish you could feel what he felt.

Word Count: 3.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Easy…easy, sweet dove. Need to relax for me. Can smell how nervous you are. Take a deep breath, hm?”

Shaky fingers gather in front of your stomach as you nod nervously. Staring up at your boyfriend with anticipation and remorse. “Sorry, I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, reaching up to brush some hair behind your ear. “There is nothing wrong with you, darling. It’s chemical. You’re meant to feel nervous around me. It’s nature’s design. To keep you safe.”

You nod again, catching a glimmer of light from the sharp tooth peeking out from behind his lip. “I know, I just…I wish it would stop. I wish we could just be, you know? Without me being so…”

He studies you for a moment, a look of adoration on his face as he hums again and cups your cheek. “I know.”

You nestle into his touch rather contently before he begins to smile, now dipping down to nudge his nose with yours. 

“If you want…I can make the bad feeling go away,” he whispers with a slight purr. “Can make it all better again.”

Hopeful, your lashes flutter. “Really?”

He nods once. “Mhm. Just wanna help you, dove. Want you to feel good.”

And now you understand what he means, the thought sending a spark down to your toes. It’s rare he feeds from you. After all, he considers the act to be degrading and disrespectful. He only ever feeds from animals or blood bags unless you’ve specifically asked.

But the truth is, you love when he feeds from you. For a plethora of reasons, one of which being the overwhelming sense of need and dependance on him that follows. Or the way his eyes grow darker and his entire demeanor changes. How much stronger he becomes feeding on human blood, specifically the blood of someone he loves.

But another reason lies with his fangs. The venom that becomes injected into your bloodstream, forcing you to feel whatever emotion or desire he feels. 

It’s a trick used to lure and calm his prey into submission while he feeds, but you find another use for it. Because if he’s filled with serenity or anger or lust…you feel it, too. You feel him. Only him.

And it’s your absolute favorite feeling in the world.

His other hand now reaches for your neck, fingers gently tapping the sides of your throat. “Just say the word, darling. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

You feel your chest deflate, all the air evaporating from your lungs as he slowly urges you back against the wall. Bracing you there as he awaits your decision.

He knows what you want. And he knows that you’d tell him otherwise. 

Your fingers tangle in the dark shirt on his chest, desperate to keep him near you. “Do it. Please.”

He tilts your head back, letting his lip curl up until his fang is revealed. “Are you sure, my dove?”

Another fervent nod. “Yes. Please, Har…please, need to feel it. Need to feel you.”

He leans closer, letting the tips of his sharp teeth graze over the sensitive skin of your throat. Right above your pulse point. “Gotta be really sure, darling. Don’t want to hurt you. Or lose control.”

“You won’t,” you exhale, feeling more confident than you sound. “Know you won’t.”

Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind if he did. Even in his darkest moments, he remains your fiercest protector. Never allowing anyone to hurt you.

Not even himself.

You feel him breathe against your neck, perhaps preparing himself for what he’s about to do. Or maybe he’s indulging in your smell. Reveling in the realization of what he’s about to do. What he’s about to taste.

Then, almost as if overcome with a surge of confidence, he bites down – hard. Enough to break the skin and allow his venom to travel into your system.

It’s instantaneous, the feeling. The way your muscles dissolve into jelly, the way your mind fills with a certain haze, and the way your stomach begins to coil.

It’s overwhelming, but it’s him. And you whimper as his other hand falls to your hip to keep you steady, making sure you remain upright and in his arms.

He waits a moment or two to make sure the venom has taken effect before he slowly retracts his fangs and pulls away. You know if he’d punctured you any deeper or kept the sharp teeth inside of you any longer, the taste of your blood would have driven him mad. Tempting him beyond reason until he began to lose control.

But he knows his limits by now. Knows exactly how far he can push himself around you, and you admire him for it.

Your legs shake as you slump against the wall, held up by his grip as he studies you carefully. Looking for signs of remorse or panic.

He’s learned a trick for sucking a majority of the poison out of your system – if it were to come to that. And while it’s tricky and tedious, you know he’d do it in a heartbeat if he felt you were in danger or if you regretted your choice.

Instead, you simply smile at him, and nod languidly. “M’good, Har,” you assure him. “M’so good.”

He seems to exhale a grateful breath, thumb stroking your cheek gently as he now glances over your wound. “I need to clean it—"

“No,” you whimper, keeping him close. “Not yet. Don’t go yet.”

He chuckles, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “All right, dove. I’m here. How do you feel, hm? You feel calm yet?”

You nod again before your lashes flutter. “Yeah. Calm, and…and happy, I think?”

He hums. “I imagine. You do make me happy.”

“It’s strange, though,” you admit, brows furrowing in thought. “Feels…heightened. Or more potent. There’s this…this yearning. This need for something.”

He regards you for a moment more. Curious and seemingly amused by your confusion before suddenly, your eyes snap to his.

You suck in a sharp inhale – something akin to a gasp. “Are you…are you horny?”

You expect his surprise, but all you find is smug fascination. “Well,” he begins slowly, letting his knuckles graze delicately beneath your jaw, “the term horny is a little juvenile. And it could never even begin to describe what I feel for you.”

He steps closer, lips ghosting just above yours while you feel your breath hitch.

“But…yes,” he whispers, glancing down at your mouth with a smile. “I suppose I am. Can’t exactly help it, darling, can I? When you look…and taste…and smell so goddamn divine.”

Another whimper bleeds from your throat as he begins to guide you away from the wall and toward the bed just to the left of you.

“Tell me…how does it feel, dove, hm?” he murmurs, touch strong yet determined. “Do you feel me? Feel how much I need you?”

This nod is quick and zealous. Because you do. It’s all you feel. This desire to have – to take and ruin. In the best possible way. It’s a similar sensation to the lust you already feel for him. Your hunger to explore the dangerous but loving man you call your own.

“Yeah?” He’s grinning like a mad man at the way you so quickly fall apart. “Can I tell you a secret, darling?” 

You whimper pitfully as you gaze up at him.

Lowering his voice, he tightens his grip. “When I’m with you…I always feel like this.”

With that, he nudges you down to sit on the mattress before surging forward to press his lips to yours. Kissing you so hard, you feel dizzy. It’s perfection. Like quenching a burning flame. Like taking that first drink of water on a hot day. Fixing a desperate need – succumbing to a craving. 

And it feels as though this kiss fixes every one of your problems. Because it does – he does. Breaks you and puts you back together again all in the same moment. It’s almost addicting. You feel insatiable, hands disappearing into his curls as you yank him down until his chest is flush with yours.

The two of you roll and writhe around on the bed for a minute or two before he leans back to offer you air. He knows you won’t take a moment to breathe otherwise, and his smug smirk merely worsens the ache between your thighs.

“Not so nervous now, hm?” he muses.

You hook your leg around his hip and attempt to grind yourself against his thigh. “Please…”

“Please what, dove?” He presses his lips to the base of your throat, trailing them down your sternum and toward your chest. “What’s it feel like, what do you need?”

But you don’t have any answer for him. Instead, all you can do is stare at the stunningly generous man as he works his way down your body. As he unbuttons your shirt and kisses over the swell of your breast. 

The stain of your blood from his lips smears across your nipple before he takes it into his mouth. Sucking and licking at the tender skin while he kneads the other one in his palm.

You arch from the mattress, desperate to disappear into his strong frame while he chuckles darkly and allows his fangs to reemerge. 

He uses them sparingly – not as a weapon but as a toy. A tool in the game of your lust.

The sharp edge pricks your skin, enough to make you gasp his name and tug on him harder. He smiles a bit bigger and carries on with his quest. Moving down your stomach and toward the waistband of your pants.

Cold, nimble fingers pop the buttons free and tug the fabric down your legs. Revealing your trembling thighs to his hungry gaze. He looks at you like you’ve been served to him on a platter. But not in the way another vampire might.

No, Harry’s look of mesmeric adoration lies in the idea of your body. In the warmth of your cunt and the soft skin of your legs. In the way you draw him in, the way you hold him, clench around him.

It’s hard for him to feel most things these days. 

But he always feels you.

He settles his body near your ankles, providing him the right angle and amount of space to spread you open and study you.

His thumb reaches for you. Pushes into your clit before dragging down between your folds as you gasp.

His expression reveals nothing. No inkling as to what he’s thinking but you know his mind is running wild with ideas.

He finds your soaked little hole, circling it once before dragging the wet substance back up and through. 

“Shh,” he coos, taming your desolate cries. “It’s okay, dove. I’ve got you.”

“Har,” you whimper, fingers itching to reach for him as he settles onto his stomach. “Please…”

You can see the reflection of light on his fangs. The way they extend past his red, swollen lips and ghost above your skin.

He nips at your hip a time or two – a slight sting that dissolves into something excruciatingly pleasurable – before he dances his mouth down. Torturing you with what’s to come instead of simply giving it to you.

“You smell divine, darling,” he purrs, groaning deep within the back of his throat. “Just might kill me again.”

You’d laugh if you had the strength, instead peering down your body at him with a desperate need. “H, I need…need—”

“Need me, hm?” He exhales a gentle breath across your clit and it’s so very cold. But it makes you jump, a new wave of arousal seeming to soak the sheets beneath. “Need me to make it better, yeah?”

You nod swiftly. “Yes…yeah. Hurts, Har.”

“Hurts?” he repeats with faux sympathy. “Oh, dove. Bet it does. Bet it’s all achy.”

Your head moves on its own accord, and you feel your stomach quiver when his cool hands curl around your thighs, keeping them spread.

“I imagine,” he whispers, returning his eyes to your pussy. “Cause I know how much it aches for me.”

He dives in, tongue lapping at your warmth and wetness without mercy as you cling to the sheets and arch from the bed.

His arms fold over your hips, keeping you pressed down and pliable to his intentions as he begins. Licking, sucking, and nibbling at certain spots – but never the spot you need him most.

The tantalizing edge of his fang grazes your soft, sensitive cunt. Sometimes harder, sometimes softer. But always impatient, desperate to feel you anyway he can.

Truth be told, you suppose he enjoys feeding on you this way just as much. In fact, this is what he claims is his nourishment whenever he’s feeling weak and unwell. One taste of your pussy and he’s a changed man.

He has you every day. Makes sure you’re at his beck and call – which you already are, anyway. 

If he’s working, if he’s cooking, if he’s reading. He merely gives you a look and calls you by that familiarly loving nickname, and next thing you know, you’re sitting on his face.

The stretch of your muscles is almost distracting, but not nearly as distracting as his groans of pleasure. The way he curses to himself as he swallows you down. Nudging at your cunt with his mouth like you’re the best meal he’s ever had.

And then…those perfect lips find your clit. He sucks, and moans, and you cry out his name. Grasping onto his hair in a futile attempt at stability and more.

He lets you tug him closer. You imagine – if he were still alive – he’d be suffocated by your pussy. Which…he’d probably enjoy.

As it is, he continues his ministrations almost mercilessly while you squirm beneath him and attempt to buck up against his tongue.

“I know,” he whispers, almost soothingly, and it feels like a vast contrast to the way he forces you into so much pleasure. “Know, darling. Can hear your pretty, little heart racing. Try to breathe, yeah? While you still can.”

You suck in a greedy gasp, eager to obey, as you focus on the sounds coming from between your thighs. It’s sinful and sensual and it echoes around the room until it’s all you hear.

“Doing so good, babydove,” he murmurs, glancing up just long enough to see the first tear slip from your eye. “It’s a lot right now, I know. I know, but you can take it. Always do so good for me. Let me see you cum, yeah? Let me see this pretty pussy cum for me.”

And you want to more than anything. Chasing the need in your own belly along with the need from his venom. The combined rush of ecstasy that makes stars explode across your eyelids as more destitute sounds fall from your tongue. 

His hands suddenly slip beneath your back, forcing you from the bed as he repositions you and nearly pulls you right through him. 

Large fingers grope the tender flesh of your ass as he holds you against his mouth and sucks the sensitive nerves between puckered lips. 

“Tell me,” he ushers softly, a golden hue to those vivid eyes watching you closely. “Tell me how bad I need you. Tell me how much I love you—”

“Har,” you gasp, trembling in his touch. “Can’t…can’t…m’gonna cum, I…please—”

“Try. Tell me. Tell me that you feel me—”

“I do,” you whine. “I do, I feel you. Feel you, Har. So good. It’s so good, please—”

“All right, darling. You gonna let me taste you? Need to taste you, darling. Can’t live without it—”

“Harry—”

He pulls away just enough to raise his hand and smack it down your cunt. The cold metal of his ring catching your clit before two more spanks are laid in succession.

You moan loudly – almost undone by the eroticism itself – before he dips back down, and grazes the delicate bud with the edge of his fang.

You feel him slip a finger inside. Pumping you once – twice – before he adds a second. Wanting to fill you and finger-fuck you to the edge as quickly as possible.

It hits you then. Overpowers you and knocks the wind from your lungs. 

You fall apart in his hands, against his tongue. Moaning and whimpering as your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head. It feels as though you cum twice as hard – perhaps a result of the venom or the symbolism of his need for you. The way your taste has satisfied his thirst.

“Yes, yes…there you go, that’s my fucking girl.” His tone is rough but riddled with lust. He groans like he’s never been filled with so much devotion. An anxious almost obsessed sound that drags your orgasm on at least a few seconds longer. “Give it to me, dove…fucking give it to me—”

“Harry—” You gasp his name like it’s the last sound you’ll ever make. Tears building in your eyes before they cascade down your warm cheeks. 

Ever the sadist, Harry works you through until your cunt is throbbing and far too sensitive to the touch. Despite your cries and whimpers for mercy, he carries on. Thrusting, licking, and sucking until you can hardly breathe.

Eventually he releases you and leans back. Perhaps able to hear the erratic racing of your pulse beneath your chest as he now works to hush your anxious mewling.

Crawling up your body with care, his fangs retract, and he buries his face in your neck to keep you still. Pressing his chest to yours in an effort to help calm you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, lips grazing your skin as he speaks. “It’s okay, dove. You’re okay. God, did so fucking good for me, darling. Always taste so good, make me so happy.”

You tiredly grasp onto his arms, needing to hold onto him just as tightly as he’s holding onto you. Wanting to share in this moment as he smirks against your throat. 

“You okay?” he asks you now. “You’re nervous again.”

“No, I’m…I’m okay,” you assure him through a pant. “I just…it feels so good. So…heavy, you know? Overwhelming.”

He chuckles softly and pushes up onto his elbows to get a good look at you. Thumb finding your cheekbone as he traces the delicate curve of your face with great adoration. “Are you saying I overwhelm you?”

You nod, smiling giddily as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. “In the best possible way.”

Grinning himself, he leans down to capture your lips with his. And it’s soft and slow and an oddly angelic end to such a devilish evening.

“Har?” you whisper, lashes fluttering shut as you nose your way under his jaw.

“Yes, dove?”

Your kisses trail below his ear, making his fingers flex. “You know what I think?”

“What's that, darling?”

You begin to smirk wickedly as you slip your hand around the back of his neck and tug him closer. Allowing the edge of your teeth to finally make contact with his skin.

He stills.

“I think it’s my turn now.”

Just wanna put in a quick note and clarify that even though she was feeling a bit of his horniness and desire, she was still very much horny all on her own HAHAHA this was 1000000% consented to from beginning to end from both parties!

Also vampire!harry is so fun?? And I loved this?? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME??

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

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Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[s0urw00lf]

This is a PSA. From here on out I write for all women (because I have yet to explore gender neutral writing and I don’t want to accidentally slip up and say something that might make it seem like it’s only woman based)

MEANING. Black, White, Asian, Brown, Hispanic etc.

And if I’m writing about a certain race it will be specified. As a black female it really angers me to see x readers with an obvious target audience that doesn’t include myself, all my life myself and so many other women watched as others were in the spotlight and I rarely saw any representation of myself on screen, let alone ACCURATE. It always has to be stereotyped into the story. Why can’t we be written as an heir to a long line of lawyers or doctors. Why does it always have to be we made it from the trenches and we don’t belong.

Wrote all of that to say. My fics are for ALL women, unless I say otherwise. I just want people to feel more accepted and show that change is happening.

Yes I will be writing WOC for EVERYONE I write for.

[moonchildstyles]

can we get a chiaroscuro blurb where maybe harry chases petal around? like a game but it takes a spicy turn 👀

wordcount: 8.4k+

—————

(Y/N) fumbled with her keys as she took the short scale of steps to the front door of the manor, her hands full of grocery bags she was too stubborn to make more than one trip for. She could feel her back sweating under the heavy cardigan dropped over her form, the sun far too bright and warm given the time of year. 

Just when she thought she had the grip right, her keys fell to her feet and out of reach. An exasperated huff fell from her lips. She should have just called Harry to help when she made it home.

Bending carefully to keep her grocery bags from tumbling out of her arms, she blindly reached around for her keys. Her fingers grazed the stoop with no such luck, her annoyance growing just as the heavy door to the manor swung open. 

"My love, is everything al—What are you doing on the ground?" Harry rushed, urgency entering his voice once he caught sight of her struggle, "What happened? Are you hurt?"

He was at her side in a blink, immediately taking the bags from her arms and steadying her. He took stock of her, a familiar expression striking his features; he was worried, near frantic attempting to find where she could have been injured.

"I'm okay," she shook her head, grateful for him taking some of the burden from her hands, "I just thought I wouldn't have to make more than one trip, then I dropped my keys and it's just—I don't know, it's too hot outside." 

A pinch creased Harry's brows, giving him wrinkles that would disappear the second he smoothed his features. "Why didn't you call for me? I would have helped you, petal." 

She shook her head, following after Harry with her keys in hand and only a single grocery bag into the manor. "It's too sunny. I thought I could make it, so I didn't want to make you come out if you didn't have to." 

"I can handle some sun, darling," he assured her, getting her safely inside the manor before he closed the door and sealed out the unseasonal sunshine, "Especially if it is for you." 

A small smile curled over her lips at his declaration. Of course he would say that it is worth it to potentially combust or go blind if it meant that he could help her bring her groceries in. 

It was sweet—and only a little stupid. 

Marching off to the kitchen, Harry didn't wait before he began unpacking all of her items and placing them within the cabinets and fridge. (Y/N) did little more than perching on the countertop, knowing that he wouldn't allow any kind of help since she had already gone through the trouble to shop herself (on his dime, though he never let her use that against him in the argument). She knew he could have it done in a matter of seconds, but he tended to refrain from using his supernatural abilities in moments like this, insisting she made him want to slow down and feel normal with her. That left her to watch as he bubbled around, unpacking with the reusable bags being folded away for another time. 

The sight brought her back to her first night at the manor, before she had even met him. The kitchen had been so clumsily stocked with the strangest variety of ingredients. Neither him nor Niall had any idea of what a human needed to make a proper meal. 

"Has the forecast changed at all for this afternoon?" (Y/N) asked, not bothering to take her eyes off him as he worked. 

A grim line settled on his lips. "Not as far as I know. I am starting to worry I won't be able to accompany you later." 

Her mouth edged into a soft pout. "Really?"

"'M afraid so, my love," he said, an apologetic quirk to his lips.

"I don't want to go if you can't come, though," (Y/N) argued, kicking her feet from where she sat on the counter. She was just a moment away from pulling out her phone and rain checking on Charlotte for another day. 

"You should still go, petal," Harry countered, putting away the last ingredient before he drifted to stand between her spread thighs, "Do not cancel on my account." 

"But the whole point of today was so you could meet my friends. It kind of defeats the purpose if you don't come with me." She would have to tell them he came down with something, and reschedule to a day with a promise of cloudy weather. 

His lips were still in a thin line when he settled his hands on her thighs, a chill seeping through the denim of her jeans. "I do not want you to miss out on your friends and your human activities on my account. I don't think it's fair." 

"I see Charlotte and the others plenty, H," she said, placing her own hands on his with her palms warming his skin, "Today really was going to mostly be about you. Plus, I know Charlotte kind of loves it when I cancel, so she can stay in with her boyfriend instead. They'll understand." 

With the pinch between his brows only winding tighter, (Y/N) knew he was far from convinced but when he peeked up at her through his lashes, she could tell he wasn't going to argue. "Only if you are sure, my love. Please, if you change your mind, do not feel bad about leaving me here. I want you to do whatever makes you happiest." 

"I will," she settled with a small smile, despite knowing that her happiest would be found right here in the manor with him. 

Curling her fingers around his own, she held onto his hands as she leant towards him and pressed a small kiss to his lips. 

It was Harry that chased after her when she began to pull away, ensuring she wasn't far before the chill of his mouth was once again buttoned to her own. She smiled into his kiss.

"Are you happy I'm staying home now?" she asked against his mouth, causing him to push his kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

He paused, his hands flexing around the full of her thighs. 

"Perhaps a little."

—————

"Let me finish this one section. Then I am all yours, petal." 

Harry's murmured voice was quiet in the middle of his studio, barely much louder than the swish of his brush over the canvas propped in front of his stool. His palette was full of color, the evidence of the last hour of work he'd put into the finishing layer of his latest piece. 

(Y/N) couldn't contain the heavy sigh she heaved as she draped herself over his form. Her arms dangled down over his shoulders, her face pressed cheek to cheek with his. A pout was on her lips as she watched him make changes so subtle she could barely even notice them. 

This wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she cancelled her day plans.

He'd been at this for what felt like forever, and (Y/N) had been itching to pry him away for at least the last twenty minutes. She could hardly stand still, let alone actually watch him. 

It was his fault, really. 

It was Harry who had used the early hours of the afternoon to make a batch of sugary cupcakes, complete with chocolate frosting and raspberry compote shoved in the middle. After being the taste tester during the making and stealing a couple once they were cooled, (Y/N) was now experiencing what she could only call a sugar high and wanted Harry's attention more than anything. (Though she wasn't up to admit it, the late afternoon latte she made out of boredom probably had more than just a little to do with the extra energy).

She impatiently watched him make another minute stroke, adding a barely there brush of white highlight on a bush. The sound of his brush swirling through paint on his palette had her jaw ticking.

"Are you done yet?"

A huff of laughter left Harry's lips. "Almost, my love. What has gotten into you, may I ask?" 

"I'm bored, and I want to play with you," she pouted, curling her arms around him in a clumsy hug. 

"Yeah?" he prompted, his smile audible, "What would you like to play, hm?" 

He was only teasing her, she was sure. He hadn't even stopped painted when he spoke. (Y/N) deflated, sinking into his shoulders. "I don't know." 

The change in her inflection had Harry pushing his palette to the side, his full attention landing on her as he twirled on his stool to face her. He collected her hands in his, the glamoured green of his eyes wavering in distress. 

"I didn't mean to upset you, love—I promise I was only teasing," he pleaded with her, canting his head with his cool hands squeezing hers. 

Maybe it was a bit awful of her, but she couldn't help herself but to poke just a hair further to get what she wanted. 

"It's okay," she told him, though she played up the moment with her mouth in a pout, "Will you hang out with me now? Please?" 

"Of course, my love," he rushed out, standing to the full of his height with his hands still wrapped around hers, "Anything you want, we will do. I am at your disposal." 

Perhaps she hadn't thought her little plan through quite as well as needed, (Y/N) realized. She didn't even know what she wanted to do, only knowing that she wanted to erase her boredom and she wanted Harry to be there when she did. 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she flitted her eyes away from his own intense gaze. "You pick." 

"Me?" Harry pressed, serious expression on his features. His hands around hers shifted until he had their fingers laced together, his thumb running along the outside of hers.

(Y/N) shrugged, almost wishing she had let him continue painting instead of this. "I didn't think this far ahead." 

His face softened into a gentle smile, his brows loosening with  his eyes almost glimmering as he gazed at her. "Okay," he sounded, "I will think of something, then. Your only job is to tell me if you think you would have fun."

A furrow touched his brows much to (Y/N)'s delight. He always looked especially cute when he was concentrating like this. 

"I can do that," she smiled at him, happy to have his attention after the long afternoon. 

It only took a beat before Harry was flicking his gaze to match hers. "What is something humans do when they cannot go outside? What kind of activities would y'play when you were unable to go out?" 

The question had (Y/N) thinking back to the days before Harry—before the rain and the clouds were their best friends. "Probably read or watch a movie or something," she answered, "I have too much energy, though—none of that sounds fun." 

It was Harry's turn to puff his lips into a pout, his gaze dropping to their joined hands and growing distant with his thoughts whirring. "Okay," he drawled, "Are there any games that sound fun to you, petal?" 

Sifting through her memories like a rolodex, (Y/N) pinged on something she hadn't thought about in years. "When I was a kid," she started, "Me and my sister would play stupid things like tag or hide and seek if we couldn't play outside. I was never very good at it, but I think it could be fun." 

The smile that bloomed on his face told her that he had it all figured out then. "Let us do that, petal. We can still play even if it's only the two of us, yes?" 

"Hide and seek?" (Y/N) clarified, unable to keep her own lips from stretching into a grin as she saw his own. 

"Yes!" he bubbled, entirely too giddy over a childhood game, "That would be fun, wouldn't it? You would not be bored while playing, right?" 

A peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at his declaration, her energy bouncing off of his. "You're going to win every time, though. You'll always know where I am." 

"I swear I will not pay attention," he assured her, "No cheating, I promise." 

A bubbly smile drew (Y/N)'s features with soft curves. The manor was so big, this was the kind of place she would have killed to play such a game in when she was a kid. She just had to hope Harry wouldn't find her too easily when it was his turn. 

"Okay," (Y/N) sang, using her grip on his hands to lead him out of the studio, "But, you're hiding first."

"Now?" he blanched, looking taken aback as if he hadn't suggested this game himself. 

"Yes, now," (Y/N) laughed, pushing Harry out into the hallway with her ands untangling from his, "I'm going to start counting, and if you're not hiding, I still win if I catch you." 

(Y/N) didn't wait for a reaction, instead turning her back to him with her hands covering her eyes. She began counting loudly for him to hear. After a moment of lag, his footsteps finally began to retreat, disappearing in a blink by the time she had counted to fifteen. If not for her eyes already being closed, she would have rolled them; Harry was already using his abilities to his advantage despite just vowing not to cheat. She continued counting through her smile.

While (Y/N) couldn't remember the exact rule from her childhood, she was sure she didn't count for as long as she was supposed to. He didn't need that much time anyway, she decided. He'd probably already found a hiding space as soon as he disappeared. 

Entering into the hall and leaving the studio behind, she couldn't help that rush of adrenaline that always came with this kind of game. While she was technically the hunter in this scenario, she felt those nervous butterflies every time she peeked around a corner or peered into a dark room, anticipating the sight of Harry waiting for her. It didn't help that he could be completely silent when he wanted, leaving her with no warning of where he would spring up. 

Her search took her through much of the first floor before she grew antsy and trekked up the staircase towards his wing of the manor. While he didn't spend too much time in his bedroom any more after moving into her lighter chambers, it was still a space he knew better than anywhere else. 

Though much of the decor had shifted in the house, leaving behind some of the more grotesque paintings and ominous sculptures, this wing of the manor still contained those relics of the past. She had insisted that he keep his space as he had it, not wanting him to change everything just because she was now a part of his life. That left her padding down the dark hallway with the blank white eyes of the demonic cherubs following after her. Sobbing angels and puddles of blood littered the backgrounds of these scenes, taking (Y/N) back to the early days when she had first arrived at the manor. 

Curling her sweater sleeves over her hands against a phantom chill in the corridor, she peeked into the various rooms lining the hall. Her heart beat heavy in her ears every time she pulled open a door, expecting to see Harry's pale features shining through the dark. Her paced breathing and footsteps were the only other sounds to be heard in the silent passage. 

She saved his bedroom for last, this being the only room she was actually familiar with in the hall. Her stomach was flooded with butterflies as she twisted the knob, pushing open the door before crossing the threshold into the chilly room. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she stepped inside, not bothering to flick on the lights as if that would break the effect of the game—as if she wasn't starting to actually grow spooked. 

His room was still decked in velvet and silk, golden and black features streaming throughout. She could still clearly recall the night she had tucked herself under the heavy duvet, waiting out the monsters that had called to her outside. She remembered the way Harry had tried to soothe her in the night, when her sleep had grown restless. How that moment had felt like a dream only for it to be one of the first pages in their story.

Her breath caught in her throat when she swore she saw a shadow move behind the drawn curtains. 

Stepping on silent feet, she ventured further into his bedroom, hesitantly peeking around his wardrobe and even chancing a look inside. Each attempt was fruitless as she changed her direction towards the bathroom attached to the room. 

There was a static in the air, the kind that made her sure there was someone else sharing this space with her, but there was no Harry to be seen. The hinges of the bathroom door creaked just as she felt a set of hands land on her shoulder. 

"Found you." 

Harry's breath washed over the side of her neck, a shiver running down her spine at the same time she startled in her spot. Her heart skyrocketed to her throat, beating heavy behind her ribs and echoing in her ears.

Spinning to face him with her hand to her neck and mouth dropped in a gasp, she looked to him with accusing eyes. "You scared me! I'm supposed to be finding you!" 

"I'm sorry," he said through an amused smile that did nothing for his point, "You walked past me twice, petal. I couldn't wait any longer." 

Settling in her skin, (Y/N) was able to pout over her lost game. "I would have found you." 

"I am sure y'would have, my love, but now y'can relax. I could hear your heart beating like you were running a marathon." 

Sometimes she forgot just how in tune with her body he was; he knew everything, many of them she barely even noticed herself. Nothing was overlooked. 

"I was right to be scared," she countered, her skin warming as he dropped his hands from her shoulders to follow the length of her arms down to her hands, "You ended up scaring me just like I thought you would." 

"Darling," he drawled, ducking his head to be level with her gaze, "I really didn't mean to—I was hoping I would make you laugh, that's all." 

Collecting her into his arms, Harry hugged her against his chest in apology. As much as she wanted to believe him, (Y/N) could still feel that smile of his, complete with both dimples, as he tucked his face into the warmth of her neck. 

"It's okay, H," she murmured, nonetheless reciprocating his hug with her arms around his neck. He sunk into her hold, heavy and adoring as he relaxed. With her mouth by his ear, she whispered, "Your turn." 

With that, she pushed off of him, laughter spilling from her lips as she scuttled out of his bedroom. Heading towards the staircase at the end of the corridor, she turned around with a beaming smile just to see him looking after her like she thought he would. The sight made her grin that much larger. 

"Start counting—and no cheating!" 

All but sprinting through the manor, (Y/N) left him behind, finally working out that giddy energy she'd been holding onto through the afternoon. While she knew there was little chance that this was going to be a very fair game given the fact that he couldn't turn off his senses, she still wanted to have fun and see if she could confuse him and have even a minute chance at winning. 

In an attempt to play dirty, she ran around the manor, traipsing through the kitchen, her bedroom, the art studio, any door she could get through without wasting too much time to leave her scent any and everywhere. Her heartbeat and breathing were going to be her giveaways, but this could buy her time if Harry fell for it. 

By the time she knew she was closing in on the remainder of her time, she settled on hiding in the laundry room. The room had two entrances—one opening to what used to be considered a maid's quarters, and the other out into the hallway. Leaving the door to the hallway open in hopes of through him off, she tucked herself out of sight. She fixed her eyes on the slight crack in the open door with the maid's entrance to her back. 

The longer (Y/N) stayed tucked away, the more that familiar anticipation crept in. Though, instead of being the hunter, she was now the hunted, sitting like a duck as she waited to be caught. The worst part was how silent Harry would undoubtedly be—she wouldn't even know she had been found until he had his hands on her. 

Keeping her eyes fixed to the crack in the door, (Y/N) waited. It took everything to keep from wriggling and giving away her spot, despite the growing buzz in her stomach that urged her to run or use the restroom (the juvenile urge being one she only really felt while playing this game, she realized). He must be staying as true as he could to his vow of no cheating since he was taking his time to make it through the manor, his speed being left in his bedroom. 

Out of nowhere, there was a creak from a floorboard heard down the hallway. (Y/N) clamped her mouth shut, pacing her breathing as if that would help. At least she knew where he was now. 

Her gaze never strayed from where she could see just a sliver out into the hall, waiting to see the green knit of his sweater. The longer she waited, the harder her heart beat. There was no other creak or sound of movement telling her where he could have retreated. 

She rolled her lips between her teeth. Could she chance a shift in her spot, just to see I she could spot him elsewhere?

A breath too late, from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar green sweater and pale features. 

"Harry, no," she laughed right as he caught her with his hands landing on the soft curve of her waist, "You cheated!" 

Tugging her to his chest, Harry pulled her out of hiding and right to him. A wondrous light had settled in his eyes as he took in her laughter. "How did I cheat? I gave you plenty of time, petal." 

"You're not allowed to be so quiet," she argued, already pulling away from his embrace, "Go hide, it's my turn." 

Harry didn't let her get very far before he was pulling her back to his chest, dipping his head down and leveling his gaze with hers. "No, I won. I found you," he smiled, tipping his chin to press his lips to the soft of hers.

(Y/N) drew away first, keeping herself from getting distracted. Energy was still trickling through her system, she didn't want to stop now. "I know, so it's my turn again." 

Chasing after her, another kiss was planted over her mouth. He spoke against her lips, "No, I win. I get m'prize now." 

She laughed into his kiss, Harry swallowing the sound between his parted lips. "Your prize?" 

Pulling away just enough to match her gaze with his nose bushing hers, amusement sparkled in his eyes. "Are you not my winnings?" 

A spark bubbled under her skin, meeting with lingering butterflies that had her slipping out of his arms. He was always going to win in the end, but she was going to get in as many rounds as she could before then. 

"Fine," she relented, shooting him an excitable smile as she bounced on her feet, "but you have to catch me first." 

With that, she shot out of the laundry room, slipping out of his reach. A bright smile was on her lips as she pictured the look on she had undoubtedly left on his face. It wasn't until she had ran her way down the hall, reaching a corner that she peered over her shoulder. 

Harry had only followed her far enough to be peeking out into the corridor, a furrow to his brow and slight quirk to his lips.  "Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know!" she giggled, skidding around the corner before popping her head around to peek at him once more, "And, no cheating!" 

She heard his laugh as she sped down the winding hall and towards the staircase. There was no clear destination in mind, just knowing that she wanted to make a little bit of trouble for him before she was caught. 

The fact that he hadn't reached her already told her that he had listened to her rules, but that didn't mean he was very far behind if the sound of his rapid footsteps was anything to go by. 

By the time she made it to the sitting room, murals of the heavens watching as she raced through, she could hear Harry's barely a heartbeat behind her. Daring to peek over her shoulder, she could see him descending the stairs, a furrow to his brow until he caught her looking. Then, he had a splitting grin on his face.

A giddy peal of laughter fell from her lips as she ran harder from him, feeling that adrenaline leak into her system knowing that he was right there. It would be so easy for him to use his supernatural traits and catch her before she took her next step, but he was letting her keep her little game up. He was enjoying the chase.

He followed her into the kitchen where she slid her socked feet across the floor, catching her balance before she could tumble to the floor. The close call had just that much more energy hitting her system.

"Be careful, petal," Harry scolded her, having just barely caught her near miss. 

"No," she laughed, knowing she sounded a bit like a petulant child before she was off again. She could hear his own huff of laughter from where she left him behind. 

It didn't take long before she felt the stretch of Harry's fingers graze the back of her sweater, the beats of his feet just behind her. She yelped at the touch, instinctively trying to throw him off by zagging towards the stairs once more. Before she could lead him up, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her away from the steps. 

"We are not going to run up the stairs like this, petal," he laughed, not even a little out of breath as he tucked her back to his chest. 

"You cheated at the end," she accused in a pant, laughing as she tilted her head back to look up at him.

His features were upside down from where she gazed down at her, smug smile on his lips. "Perhaps, but I still win." 

Before she could argue, he had her spun around in his arms. The world spun around her as Harry threw her over his shoulder, her hips settled on the cuff of his shoulder with her arms dangling down his back and legs kicking in front of him. His arm created a bar across the backs of her thighs, keeping her steady as she wriggled over him.

"I get to take you away now, petal," he declared, starting towards the stairs on much more steady feet this time, "No more running from me." 

"I thought you said we were going to play whatever I wanted today," she faux-whined, clinging to him as he reached the landing of the second level. 

"I think you'll like this break from your game, puppy," he answered simply. 

She was sure they both felt the change in the pace of her heart then. With that one word, she knew he was right. She was going to enjoy whatever game he wanted to put on now. 

Pushing into their bedroom, (Y/N) was unceremoniously plopped onto the bed, unmade bedding rustling around her. The mattress bounced under her back just as Harry settled followed, crawling to the middle of the bed to sit himself between her thighs. 

His weight had her sinking into the plush sheets with her thighs spread wide to accept his hips against her own. A heady bulge pressed against her core as he buried his face against her neck. The tip of his nose skimmed over the column of her throat, her skin breaking into goosebumps at the touch. She could feel the smile curling on his lips at her reaction.

Bringing her hands up to tangle through his hair, she hiked her thigh around the cuff of his hip. The chill of his lips held that much more of an effect on her when he pressed them o her heated throat. 

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, preening under the attention.

Harry's response came in between the smattering of kisses he gave to her neck, the scratch of his teeth sending a shiver down her spine. "I liked chasing you," he murmured against her skin, words melting into her pores, "Jus' wanted to catch you and take you away." 

(Y/N) felt breathless at his admission. That wasn't the intended effect she had been going for with her game, but she couldn't say she didn't like it.

"Take me away to do what?" she pressed, wanting nothing more than to have his voice wash over her with every minute detail that came to mind. 

"To fuck you, puppy," he answered simply, taking her breath away when he scraped his teeth against the well-bitten spot on her neck. "You know that."

Her reaction was enough to spur him on as he sucked a mark onto the hollow of her throat. Her fingers coiled in his curls, arching into him with her head tipping to the side to give him more skin to roam. Harry happily took advantage, teasing her with nips at the curve of her neck once he was satisfied with the faint mark he left behind on her skin.

"You want that too, puppy?" Harry murmured against her throat, the full of his lips pillowing over the goosebumps on her skin, "Want me to fuck you?" 

She didn't even think before she was nodding as best she could with her cheek pressed to the mattress, her mouth dropped in a breathless gasp. Harry's smug smile could be felt against her neck before he drew back, matching her eyes with his own intense gaze.

"Say it." 

Her heart hammered against her rib cage, her thighs squeezing around his hips. How her stupid game of hide and seek led to this, she wasn't sure, but she was willing to do it again every day if this was the kind of effect it had on Harry. 

When she didn't immediately answer him, Harry pulled one of his hands up and lightly tapped on her warm cheek with his three middle fingers. 

"C'mon, puppy. I wanna hear y'say it." 

Though it was far from the filthiest thing she's said for him or he's said to her, she still felt her skin warm and throat bob as she followed his instruction. 

"I want you to fuck me, Harry." 

His eyes fell to her lips, watching her mouth form the words and her breathless voice carry them out. There was a note of pride in his gaze as he took in her obedience. 

"I can do that for you, petal." 

Ducking his head down, he smeared his lips against hers, tongue slipping inside her mouth and sampling a taste of her own. (Y/N) raked her fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she leant into every bit of affection he offered. She locked her thighs around his hips, every sweep of his tongue causing a pulse of the muscles. 

Wordlessly, he slipped his arms around her cradling her to him just before he rolled them over in the tufts of their bedding. In a breath, without having separated from their kiss, he had placed himself underneath her form. (Y/N) sat in his lap, knees bracketing his hips with Harry's legs bent at the knee behind her to keep her steady in her place. Once she caught up with her body, she startled, instinctively reaching to place her palms on his shoulders as she drew away from his mouth with her kiss-swollen lips in a gape. 

Harry's pupils were blown wide as he looked up at her, his bottom lip fit snugly between his teeth. "Haven't had you on top in a while, huh, puppy?" 

Despite talking as if he expected an answer from her, Harry rocked his hips underneath hers, effectively robbing any chance of speech. (Y/N) could only shake her head—it really had been a while since she'd been the one above. 

Pleased with her eager breathlessness, Harry dropped his hand to fit the curve of her waist, a slight flex of his fingers pushing dents into the soft skin. "Show me how you're going to ride me, petal. I want to see you to work for my cock." 

He spoke with no reservations, commanding with all the affection in the world embedded in his tone. There was no way she could say no to that. She wanted to give him everything just as much as he did for her.

Digging her fingertips into the broad of his shoulders, she steadied herself with her knees on either side of him. His legs behind her were the easiest way to keep herself steady as she started rocking herself on his lap, using his thighs to lean against with every roll of her hips.. The bulge of his cock pressed headily against her core with each brush, her stomach tightening along with her breathless lungs. 

"Y'can do better than that, darling," he taunted, his voice playfully mocking, "I know you don't expect me to be gentle today, right? Not after y'made me chase you around just to get you all pretty in my lap. Gonna take more than this to get my cock in you." 

Taking advantage of his grip on her waist, Harry took over, bouncing her on his lap as if to show what he was looking for from her. The rhythm of her grinding was dismissed as he pumped her over his cock, his thighs spreading at her back as her ass dropped into his lap over and over, his cock pressing directly against her clit through the fabric of her pants. Small moans managed to escape from (Y/N)'s throat even with the squeeze of her lungs. 

"This is better, right, puppy?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she breathed, her eyes fluttering to a close. It was better than her grinding, but nowhere near as satisfying as stuffing his cock inside. "More, pl-please." 

His lips curled her words. "Y'think you're ready to do this on m'cock? Even if I don't help you?" 

The nod of her head was automatic, no extra thought given to whatever parameters he gave her. She could make anything work as long as she got out of her clothes and had her pussy full of him.

Harry stopped bouncing her then, his hands stilling as he kept her from moving herself. (Y/N) wanted to whine, to complain that he had stopped her just as he shushed her with a kiss, leaning up to meet her lips. 

"Do not pout, puppy. Can't fuck y'through my clothes, can I? At least not the way y'like." 

With that, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to climb off his lap and rid herself of her clothes. Her sweater and pants became a messy pile on the floor with her panties soon following. She heard a soft laugh sound from behind her when she flung her bra onto the floor in her haste. Despite the chill glancing over her skin, (Y/N) didn't wait before crawling back into Harry's just-as-cold embrace. 

He welcomed her back into his lap readily, his cock hard between his thighs. She felt her own core tighten at the sight of his blocked muscles, the creamy pallor of his skin making his tattoos look that much darker. His gaze was its own aphrodisiac as he pinned his eyes to her form kneeling over his lap, drinking her in just as much as she did him. 

"So gorgeous, darling," he told her, his voice a gentle coo compared to the hard lines of his body, "If I could dream at all, it would be of you. You know that, right?" 

"I dream of you, every night," she told him sweetly as if she wasn't inches above his hardened cock, her center slick and waiting for him. 

"Good dreams?" he asked, just as he always did with a dimpled smile on his lips. 

"The best," she declared, fitting her hands on his shoulders with her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. 

"Give me a kiss, puppy," he crooned, tipping his chin just right to give her access to his lips. 

Pressing her mouth to his, Harry took the lead with his hands cupping the full of her hips. He welcomed the warmth of her kiss, swiping his tongue over hers with the slick parting sounds of their lips filling the quiet bedroom. 

"Ready to take me, puppy?" Harry breathed against her lips, unwilling to pull too far away. 

"Please," was (Y/N)'s cooed response before melding her lips to his once more. 

Using his hold on her hips, Harry eased (Y/N) onto his cock. He fit the tip inside her wet center, swallowing the gasp she let out against his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders were tight as he helped her sink down his length. Her toes curled on either side of his form, her thighs clenching the further inside he pushed. Harry took his time, leaving (Y/N) to feel every inch of him with every spread of her walls to let him in. 

Once he bottomed out, the trimmed thatch of hair at his base pressing to her clit and his balls patting her ass, (Y/N) felt her insides pulse around him, her stomach tight in her middle. Harry's hands on her sides tightened, denting the soft flesh with his fingertips. 

"Feel good, puppy?" he murmured with a strain, pausing as he let her adjust to him, "Full?" 

"Uh-huh," she mindlessly answered, swearing she could feel him jump against her walls, "So full." 

A moan bubbled up from his chest, low and rumbling. He trailed his lips from her mouth to the soft apple of her cheek, basking in her warmth as he reflected it back. His lips were a cool point of clarity against her skin, his nose skimming the height of her cheekbone. He planted his line of kisses until he landed at the space just before her ear. 

"Ready for me to fuck you, puppy? Jus' like I promised?" he murmured into her ear, gently shifting his hips under hers as if to remind her he was still there. 

The only response he seemed to need was the soft coo of his name that fell from her mouth, soft and wanting. As if there were any world that existed where she denied his offer. 

Harry began to bounce her on his lap, his hands tight on her hips as her mouth dropped into a wordless gape. The thrusts he helped her make were short and shallow, lifting her only halfway off his cock before she was slammed down once more, her clit nudging his base with his tip hitting far walls she decided only existed for him. Her breathing came out in soft huffs every time her hips settled against his in soft slaps. 

He attempted to smatter more kisses against her cheek, but was stopped short in his own pleasure. She could feel the soft gape of his lips against her skin, the length of his lashes grazing her cheek as he clamped them shut while falling into the feel of her. 

Despite his early threat of leaving her to do the work all by herself, she barely had to do anything more than take it as he rocked his hips to meet the thrusts he was curating with her in his lap. She could feel her breasts moving with every thrust, peaks hardened as she attempted to draw herself closer to his chest and feel more of his chilled skin against her. 

"Harry, I—" she choked out, her voice dying in her throat as she threw her head back after a particularly harsh thrust of his hips against hers. 

"I know, petal, I know," he murmured, gaining some of his composure as he dropped his mouth to her throat. It was there that he could feel the thrum of her pulse, just under the soft skin he was accustomed to sinking his teeth into and leaving bruised and delicate in his wake. "I've got you, puppy. Gonna make me cum, you know that?" 

Her thighs clenched at the thought of him cumming inside her, feeling that warmth leak through her system. Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, drawing him that much closer to her. 

"You want that? Want me to cum inside you? Make you mine again?" 

He asked these things as if she could answer—as if she had half the mind to say anything other than a pathetic moan or a clench of her hands over his body. Of course she wanted that; of course she wanted to feel him cum inside her and stake his claim. She wanted anything he was willing to give. 

"Tell me, puppy," Harry commanded, his gentle tone forgone for the moment as his grip on her hips harshened, "Not gonna let you cum with me if y'don't talk to me." 

"I want that, I want that," she rushed out, unwilling to test his threat, "Want you to cum in me, H. Please." 

"Good girl, pup. Always doing what I say, " he murmured, quietly praising her as if she couldn't hear him. "So, so, so good. Gonna make me cum so hard—shit." 

One of his hands slipped from her hip, fitting between their bodies before he pressed his fingers to the bud of her clit. The first touch of his cold fingertips took her breath, stunting her lungs with her mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. Harry continued his relentless thrusting, the rhythm deep and consistent, adding to the twisting feeling of her clit being circled. Despite Harry being the one that had wanted this, dragging her to their bedroom in the first place, she doubted he would be the first to finish under these circumstances.

Tracing one of her hands up from the shelf of his shoulder, she laced her fingers through the curls on her back of his head. It took all her attention to keep herself from growing distracted once she curled her fingers through the waves in a firm grip. Tipping her head to the side, she urged him to the soft skin of her throat. 

"H-Harry, please," she begged, hoping he would understand what she wanted without having to waste the time to spell it out. 

A heavy moan fell from his lips when he saw what she was directing him towards. His cock jumped in her pussy, his tip pressing headily against the ridges of her walls, his hips directing a particularly harsh thrust against hers, splitting her open that much more.

"Y'want me to bite you, darling? Fuck, you're so sexy, puppy." 

She didn't need to do anything more than pathetically breathe out a small uh-huh before she felt that faint scratch of his teeth over the delicate skin. A shudder traveled down her spine, the rhythm of Harry's thrusting not even skipping a beat. 

"Hold onto me, puppy," Harry murmured just a breath before she felt the slice of his teeth sinking into her skin. 

For the first time since pushing inside her, the rocking of his hips stuttered in their curated pace. Bottomed out, he rolled his hips into her with her clit still being prodded by his fingertips. The initial sting of his teeth lasted barely a heartbeat for (Y/N) before she was flooded with the euphoria Harry was already experiencing. Whatever it was that made his bite so dizzying was doing its job by melting her into his hold, turning her completely pliant and ready to be any and everything he wanted. The soft press of his lips around the bite was the cut of clarity she needed in that moment, otherwise she would have been lost in the sound of his low moan and the all encompassing hold he had on her. 

(Y/N)'s head was elsewhere, focusing only on him as she felt her stomach tighten with every pull of blood he took from her. Unsure of where the strength came from, she managed to whimper in a breathless voice, "I'm-I'm gonna cum, Harry." 

His response came in the form of a rumbling groan, his remaining hand on her hip snaking around to curl around her middle. She could feel the strength of his touch, complimented by a harsh thrust against her swollen pussy. His touch on her clit quickened, making her cry out once more in a shapeless moan. 

It was all too much, bringing a layer of tears to her closed eyes just before everything came to a head. The twist in her stomach tightened until it unraveled into a shredded ribbon. Her walls pulsed around his cock, her wetness gushing around him with slick noises sounding from where he sunk into her. When those first waves hit, her nails digging into his shoulder with her head thrown back, she felt Harry unlatch from her neck just as his own high hit. 

"Oh—fuck—puppy," he groaned, his movements lagging as soon as she felt the first wave of his cum hit inside her.

He dropped his forehead to rest on the shelf of her collarbone, his hips rocking against hers as best as he could manage the more he sunk into the pleasure of her taste in his mouth and her pussy around his cock. Her walls shuddered around him, her thighs closing in on his hips as her body clung to him. Every rope warmed her compared to his icy touch, prolonging her pleasure that much longer until she could feel him slowing down.

Coming down to earth in slow beats, Harry wrapped his arms around her, leaving (Y/N) to melt into his hold. Her eyes were shuttered closed, her heart beating hard against her ribcage. Looping her own arms around his neck, she buried her face in the mussed curls on the top of his head. Her breathing came in pants as the world reluctantly came into focus around her. 

Harry seemed to recover first, stirring in her arms until he was pressing his lips against her collarbones and dragging them across her décolletage. He painted a delicate trail, never fully lifting his mouth from her skin as he moved up towards her throat. Pausing over the spot he had bitten from, he swiping his tongue carefully over the small wound he'd made, taking care to clean up the small mess he'd left behind and sealing her bite before he made his way towards her jaw. He skimmed over the soft line, his nose glancing off her skin just as carefully. Tipping her head up, (Y/N) met him halfway, tenderly placing her lips against his. 

He was always terribly careful when kissing her after having bitten from her, never wanting to give her a taste of anything too human on his tongue. He allowed only a small press before he was pulling away and puckering against the corner of her mouth to the apple of her cheek and the tip of her nose. 

"Are y'alright, petal?" he murmured against her skin, shuffling until he was laying flat on his back with her atop him. The shifting had his softening cock brushing against her sensitive walls, a small shudder skating down the knobs of her spine. 

"I'm okay," she breathed, blinking her eyes open to see his own still shuttered—and they would stay that way until he was certain there was no more bloody red sclera for her to see. "Are you?"

His features softened into a warm smile, matching the slight flush that had been freshly added to his cheeks. "I am more than well, darling. Thank you for asking." 

A plume of laughter fell from her lips as she settled against him. She knew she should probably get up and dress in something warm enough to cuddle with him, clean herself up before completely relaxing, but she couldn't find the motivation to move off of him. He was far too comfortable, his hold too rewarding to give up in favor of putting on a shirt before she was shivering in his hold.

Harry seemed to have other ideas as he shifted under her. "Let's clean you up, petal. Then, I can put you to sleep while I make dinner, yes?" 

"No," she countered with a whine, clinging to him before he could move them from the haven of their bed, "Not yet."

She felt his laugh more than she heard it from where she laid against his chest. He tightened his hold around her as he dropped a smiling kiss to the crown of her head. "Not even if I come with you?" he bribed, hoping to coax her with the soft inflection on his voice and careful touch as he tightened his hold around her, "We can even nap afterwards, if you'd like. You'll feel better after changing, my love."

"You'll go with me?" she repeated, her voice decidedly smaller as she spoke against his skin. It didn't sound so bad if he cleaned up with her (that usually meant he did all the work anyway, picking out her clothes and washing her hair without her lifting a finger).

"Mhm," he hummed, collecting her against his chest as he started to shift on the mattress, moving stand with her still clinging to his form. "Can't leave my petal all alone after a game like that, can I?" 

(Y/N) could only shake her head, playing along with him as he carried her into the bathroom. 

She definitely liked his games a lot more than her own. 

—————

first vamp h blurb in a while esp a fun one so I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if yu have any ideas you wnat too share please send them in!

[girlkisser13]

ADDRESSING THE ACCUSATIONS

if you haven’t read the post by @valsverse, you can read it here.

i want to clear the air regarding the accusations being made against me. i understand that this situation has caused a lot of concern, but i need to be very clear: besides the situation that happened months ago (that had already been resolved) i did not engage in any plagiarism. i have also never harassed anyone. the claims being made are false, and it’s disheartening to see someone spreading misinformation about me in the community. i value the tumblr space and have always worked to contribute positively.

The Original Incident + The Resolution of that Incident

as many of you may know, approximately four to five months ago, i was caught plagiarizing the work of a well-known writer in the pjo fandom. when searching for "pjo dating headcanons," @valsverse's posts consistently appear among the top results. after reading her content, i made the regrettable decision to extract her writing from multiple posts and consolidate it into a single post for each character. this choice was both unethical and misguided, and i take full responsibility for my actions.

on june 3, 2024, after being contacted about the plagiarism accusation, i did block the user— not out of malice, but because i was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle the situation. this was a mistake, and i apologize for how it may have come across. however, once we reconnected, we did resolve things privately, and I took responsibility for my actions. i never should’ve copied anyone’s work.

regarding the request to take down the post, it wasn’t an attempt to avoid accountability, but rather an effort to move on from the situation. the backlash was intense, and it was emotionally challenging to cope with. it was to the point that i was receiving death threats and messages in my inbox telling me that "my parents should have hit me harder as a child". i appreciate that the post remained up as a matter of principle for the other user, but i also felt that once we had come to an agreement, i was still facing more negativity than i knew how to handle.

since then, i’ve made a conscious effort to learn from this and be more respectful of others’ work. i’m committed to improving and being part of this community in a positive way.

MultifandomBisexual13

with the permission of this account, i have added screenshots of the conversations between their account and @valsverse.

@valsverse has claimed that @multifandombisexual13 and i are the same person. this argument hinges on circumstantial evidence, but it doesn’t actually prove that we are the same person. similar usernames, reposting content, or replying within a short time frame can easily be coincidences, especially within fandom spaces where people often support similar creators and engage with their content closely.

while it’s true that both of our accounts include the number "13," this does not imply we are the same person. as many of you may know, i’m a swiftie, and the number "13" holds significant meaning within that fandom. furthermore, suggesting that i am behind the other account simply because it includes "multifandom" in its username, and i happen to write for multiple fandoms, is unfounded. by that logic, would every account featuring "multifandom" also be attributed to me? such an assumption is both unreasonable and baseless.

she also claims that we share the same "writing style." if using all lowercase is what defines having the same "writing style," then sure, we share that. but by that logic, i also share the same style with the majority of the pjo fandom. does that mean i’m secretly running every single pjo account? of course not— that’s an absurd assumption.

furthermore, i do not know why @multifandombisexual13 only reblogs my posts and why my account is the only one featured in the "check out these accounts" section. however, i want to stress that @valsverse doesn’t have any credible evidence to support the claim that we are the same person. it’s important to avoid jumping to conclusions without solid proof, and I hope this helps clear up any misunderstandings. i understand that @valsverse feels harassed, and it’s fair to address that. however, accusing someone of operating multiple accounts without solid evidence is wrong.

The Anonymous Messages + My Brother's Involvement

so, when i received the screenshot sent to my account, i genuinely didn’t know what to expect. honestly, the reaction i got was a bit overwhelming. yes, i told @valsverse that my brother sent that message. for anyone with younger siblings, you know how it is—sometimes they grab your phone without you realizing it, and things can get messy. it’s not unusual for a sibling to get involved, especially if they’re curious about what you’re up to online.

but instead of understanding that, i was met with accusations and skepticism. suddenly, it felt like i was being scrutinized for having family access to my account, and they implied that it was ridiculous for my brother to have any involvement at all.

the absurdity of the situation was hard to digest. i was just trying to explain what happened, but instead, it felt like i was being painted as a liar. it’s disheartening to see my honest intentions twisted into something malicious. i was being transparent, but all i got in return were assumptions about my character.

and when i tried to apologize after being caught off guard, it only seemed to add fuel to the fire. i felt like my attempts to clear the air were dismissed, and i wish you could all see it from my perspective. i’m just a person navigating a complicated situation with a younger sibling who sometimes doesn’t understand the implications of their actions.

in the first screenshot, @valsverse asserted that i should "either deactivate my account or admit the truth." while i cannot definitively ascertain whether this statement was intended as a threat, it nonetheless raised concerns for me. i want to emphasize that throughout this situation, my intention has always been to convey the truth. i believe in the importance of honesty and integrity, and i hope this clarification sheds light on my perspective. my goal is not to evade responsibility, but rather to communicate openly about my actions and the circumstances surrounding them.

as i write this, i am acutely aware of how absurd it may sound. the assertion that "my brother sent that message" might seem implausible at first glance, yet i invite you to consider that it could, in fact, be true. my brother, who is twelve years old and actively engaged in the pjo fandom, has a keen awareness of the ongoing "drama" between myself and @valsverse. from his perspective, the message he sent to her was intended as a harmless "joke".

furthermore, it's important to note that my brother has adhd, which contributes to his tendency toward impulsive behavior. this characteristic can lead him to act without fully considering the consequences of his actions. given his familiarity with the dynamics of the fandom and his impulsivity, it is entirely plausible that he may have sent the message in question without fully understanding the context or the potential ramifications.

in light of these factors, i hope you can appreciate the complexity of the situation and recognize that the possibility of my brother’s involvement deserves thoughtful consideration rather than outright dismissal.

Summary

to sum it all up, after the resolution of the initial plagiarism incident, i can confidently state that i have not engaged in the plagiarism of anyone's work. the only instances of plagiarism i have committed were specifically related to the pjo fandom. since that time, i have made a conscious effort to create original content that reflects my own ideas and creativity. for all other fandoms in which I participate, I take great pride in the fact that the work i produce is entirely my own. i believe in the importance of intellectual honesty and integrity in writing, and i am committed to upholding these values in all my future endeavors.

i would like to clarify that i harbor no animosity toward @valsverse. in fact, i hold her in high regard as both a writer and a creator, which is, regrettably, a factor in why i plagiarized her work in the first place. i would never condone or encourage anyone to harass her, and i take full responsibility for the circumstances surrounding this situation. furthermore, @multifandombisexual13 has engaged in harassment toward a mutual of mine and has unfoundedly accused her of plagiarizing my work. due to these actions, i blocked her. when @valsverse requested that i reach out to her, i had to unblock her in order to do so.

@valsverse, if you’re reading this (and you likely are), i understand your desire to make this situation public. if i were in your position, i likely would have done the same thing. however, i want to clarify that the apologies i offered— those that you referred to as "pulled out of my ass"— were genuinely aimed at salvaging our relationship. at one point, we were mutuals, and i valued that connection. when you unfollowed me, i reciprocated by unfollowing you as well. i'm not sure why you unfollowed me, but i want to sincerely apologize for the impact my actions have had on your mental well-being. it pains me to know that i contributed to any distress or discomfort you have experienced. please understand that it was never my intention to cause you harm, and I am truly sorry for the damage I have inflicted.

i hope that the evidence i have provided in this post enables you all to draw your own conclusions about me. it is important to consider the context and nuances surrounding the situation, as well as my actions and intentions. i encourage you to reflect on the information presented and assess it critically. ultimately, i understand that perceptions can vary, and i respect your ability to form your own judgments based on the details i have shared. your understanding of my circumstances is valuable to me, and i appreciate your willingness to consider my perspective.

if anyone has questions or seeks clarification regarding any aspect of what i’ve wrote, please do not hesitate to reach out. i am more than willing to engage in a conversations and provide any additional information you may require. your understanding is of great importance to me, and i welcome the opportunity to address any concerns you might wish to raise.

[justmeinatree]

A Wet Dream Just Dangling

Summary : vampire harry wants to eat you out.

TW : smut, period sex, oral (f receiving)

Word Count : 1.5k

“c’mon, darling,” harry coos, laying in bed, tangled up with you, using the softness of your tummy as a pillow. “don’t have to be shy with me.”

“harry,” you giggle, biting your lip, “never in a million years would i have thought of doing this.”

“hmm, i could wait a million years, but i’d really rather not,” he grumbles, fingertips gently stroking your skin. “you know it’ll make you feel better, my love.”

“s’embarrassing. and really awkward,” you groan, stuffing your face in a pillow, fingers carding through your boyfriend’s hair.

“nothing to be embarrassed about. totally normal thing,” he turns his head, chin pressed into your skin, peering up at you. “besides, s’not like it’s my first time.”

“that doesn’t exactly make me feel better,” you giggle. 

when you met harry, and inevitably fell deeply in love, you knew there would be a learning curve to dating him. the whole vampire thing being a bit of an adjustment for you. 

in the last 6 months, you’d gotten used to the feeding part of dating him. a weekly, sometimes twice a week, occurrence, that you’d grown to honestly be excited for. the intimate part of it all wasn’t lost on you. if anything, it made you feel closer to him.

so far, the idea of period sex hadn’t come up. that is, until today. your cramps were a little worse than usual, and although you know that sex has helped to alleviate them, you also know that he’s not just asking for sex. he’s asking to eat you out.

“beautiful girl, you’ll love it,” he hums, pecking over your stomach, tongue darting to take a few tentative licks of your skin. 

your taste invades his senses immediately, fangs poking out on their own accord, gently scraping against you, just enough to make a trail of goosebumps follow their path.

“harry,” you whine softly. he knows that whine, knows that what he’s doing is working. and the lower he makes his way down your stomach, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting, the more he can smell you. smell the blood, smell the arousal mixing in. his mind starts going hazy, only able to focus on blood, blood, blood. but more specifically your blood.

“please,” he mutters so softly you barely caught it, fingertips dancing by the waistband of your sweatpants, lips and tongue and fuck, so much harry, ghosting over your hips. “please, will you let me, my love ?” little puffs of warm air tickling your skin.

“do it,” you sigh contently, setting your reservations aside at the pure desperate neediness to his tone. you’re not sure you could have ever imagined your big scary vampire to sound so soft and small, it made you give into him even quicker than usual.

the next moment flies by in a flash, your pants ripped clean off you, legs spread wide, thighs held open with his hands, an animalistic growl echoing from harry’s chest, fangs on full display, dropping down to breathe you in.

“fuck, fuck,” harry groans, his temple resting against your inner thigh, eyes locked on your cunt. you were absolutely soaked. your hormones on overdrive from your period, plus well, day 2 of your period, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen something so fucking beautiful. 

his tongue tentatively pokes out, taking a lick at your sopping folds, harry’s eyes rolling back. “fucking christ, my beautiful girl, can’t-“ he shakes his head, taking another lick, “can’t hold myself back. stop me if it’s too much.”

and with that, he delves in. face instantly pressing into your cunt, tongue darting into you, licking at your inner walls with purpose.

you struggle to keep up with the quickness of it all, your body reacting to harry before your brain has a chance to keep up. with your back arching, a loud moan echoing through the room, you grip into his hair, pressing yourself more into his face.

you can feel the vibration from his groan, your pussy clenching on his lapping tongue. you can feel the bluntness of his fangs encompassing your heat, a slight sting from time to time, when they scrape particularly roughly. you can feel the nipping of his nails in your skin, thighs aching from his strength holding you spread open. 

with your period long forgotten, cramps seemingly swept away with the flick of harry’s tongue, you keep rolling your hips into his face, causing his moans to increase.

harry’s mind is reeling, so far gone, overtaken with the continuous flow of blood. he doesn’t have to pace himself, doesn’t have to worry about taking too much. he can slurp up as much as he likes. add in the sweet taste of your arousal, and all he can focus on is more, more, more.

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the darkest crimson you think you’ve ever seen looking back at you. you note the deep red smeared over his pale porcelain skin, and you feel yourself tug on his hair harder, the sight making your skin prickle. you weren’t sure how this scene could ever be so beautiful, but here it was. and it made your stomach clench. 

you can see the moment harry knows you’re going to cum, his eyes looking at you in recognition, cunt throbbing on his tongue, his mouth moving north for a moment to suck and flick at your clit. instantly, your orgasm crashes over you, back arching, legs trembling against his hold.

and harry’s ecstatic to lick you through it, scooping up the bubbles of blood, a guttural moan vibrating from the depths of his chest, his tongue migrating south again, face following suit.

without a moment to breathe, harry being hyper focused on blood, languidly stroking his tongue up and down and up and down through your slit, from entrance to clit, lapping up the blood, the arousal, the overwhelming sense of you, you, you.

“harry,” you whimper breathily, trying to compose yourself post orgasm, all while still having his tongue scooping from deep inside you. you couldn’t budge your legs at all, no matter how hard you tried to close them, your entire body prickling with heat every time he’d stroke your sweet spot.

your whines fall on deaf ears, harry much too busy with his face buried in your cunt. it was moments like these where he loves that breathing isn’t a problem he needs to worry about anymore. 

so he continues on, sucking and slurping, getting completely lost in the seemingly endless supply of sustenance. so much so, that you’re almost certain he’s completely missed the fact that you’re cumming again.

your moans had gotten increasingly loud, body trembling and wracking in his hands, fingers pulling tight on his hair. your cunt was clenched hard around his tongue, but his muscles were strong, and it didn’t stop him one bit. growling pants coming from between your legs, he flicked his tongue over and over and over against your inner walls.

body covered in a sheen of sweat, you were panting, whining, so fucking overstimulated. and yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him. even with your third orgasm looming, the coil in your stomach tighter than it’s been all night, almost painfully so, you could not stop.

your hips try to lift off the bed, muscles stretching and tensing all at once, an explosion of heat and tingles spreads through you, your cunt at the centre of the storm.

harry groans happily, his mouth working you through your third orgasm, hands sliding from your inner thighs, around to the small of your back, holding you. 

instantly, your legs close on his head, a moan vibrating from harry’s mouth, his hold leaving your back, sliding over your bum, up the back of your thighs, to press your knees into your chest.

and for the first moment since his escapade began, he pulls his mouth away from your pussy, looking at it, admiring his beautiful girl’s most intimate parts. he knows he’s pushed you to a limit, doesn’t have to ask, he absolutely knows you well enough by now. 

he still, however, unable to help himself, takes a gentle lick all the way up your slit, your body flinching in response. “m’sorry, darling. just so pretty.”

heat rises to your cheeks, wiggling your hips, trying to get away from him, as embarrassment, shyness creeps up on you.

and again, knowing you so well, harry notices, shaking his head, pecking against the back of your thigh, knees still pressed to your chest. he takes another gentle lick up your cunt, groaning, “don’t know why you even bother with pads and tampons. fuckin waste of money, if you ask me.”

……

Masterlist

tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms @cc-horan

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Old School Love Universe

*can be read out of order, but stories are listed newest to oldest*

Smut🔥| Fluff💕| Angst🥺 | Dark Themes🖤|🤓 author picks| 🌟fan faves

- Love Bites 💕🥺

- Old School Love 💕

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[heartiella]

There is no stronger force than that of a girl’s desperation to write about her male hyperfixation.

[colmiillo]

Post another fucking chapter girl I NEED TO KNOW WHAT'S NEXT GOD DAMN IT

[lemoncrushh]

Kiss Me Deadly

SUMMARY: The annual Halloween party at the local pub has Y/N excited when she decides to invite her boss at the University, Mr. Styles. But she soon begins to second guess her decision when Harry starts acting odd. Is Harry Styles really who she thinks he is? Will this Halloween be a fantasy come true…or the kiss of death?

WARNINGS: mentions of blood (I mean, it's a vampire fic lol), smut (oral - female receiving).

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

A/N: Happy Halloween! Sorry for the delay of this story. I had hoped to get it out last week, but I had some weird life-altering things happen that have occupied my mind. Hope you enjoy. FEEDBACK IS LOVE.

Harry removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting the large book on his desk. Rising from his chair, he called out to his assistant.

“Time to lock up, Y/N. I wanna get out of here before eight o’clock.”

“No problem, Mr. Styles,” she said, closing her own book in front of her.

Pursing his lips, Harry shook his head. Y/N knew what the look was for. For weeks now he’d been insisting she call him by his first name. But being his assistant, it felt odd to her, unnatural.

Not to mention the horrible crush she had on him. Truth be told, Y/N had a massive crush on him long before she ever took the position as his assistant. But up until then, he’d only been Mr. Styles to her, the attractive English TA with a British accent.

When Mr. Styles and Dr. Osborne had initially told Y/N about the position and that she’d be perfect for it, she’d been completely surprised. Teacher’s Assistants didn’t usually have their own assistants. But the university had a large English department, and Dr. Osborne insisted that more help was needed. Therefore, Y/N had been spending Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings this semester assisting Mr. Styles, and in turn, assisting Dr. Osborne.

“How many times is that now?” asked Harry, sliding his glasses back onto his face.

“Times?”

“Times I’ve told you to just call me Harry,” he commented with a frown. “Mr. Styles makes me feel so old.”

Y/N chuckled, “You’re not old.”

“‘Course not. I’ve barely got a few years on you.”

Trying not to blush, Y/N took the stack of books in her arms and turned toward the shelves to put them away.

“So why are you closing up early tonight? Hot date?” she joked.

Y/N heard Harry snort before she turned around and saw the strange look on his face. Embarrassment? Had she pried where she shouldn’t have?

“Not exactly.”

“Oh.”

“I have plans…but I wouldn’t exactly call it a date,” he added.

“Ah. I see.” Although she didn’t.

Y/N didn’t know much about Harry Styles outside of his job at the university. She always wondered who or what he went home to every night. Didn’t know if he had any social life, anything about his likes or dislikes that weren’t English related. He seemed to keep to himself, and Y/N respected that. But it didn’t mean she didn’t fantasize sometimes…

“Y/N,” she heard him say, breaking her from her reverie.

“Oh, um, yes?”

Harry chuckled. “Wow, you were zoned out. I asked if you were ready to go. I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh. Yeah!” Y/N stammered. “Hang on, just have two more books to put away.”

Shelving the last book in her hands, Y/N grabbed the two on her table and quickly put them in their places. Walking past Harry to the coat rack, she grabbed her jacket, getting a whiff of his delicious cologne. Y/N wasn’t sure what it was, and was always afraid to ask him. But every single day he smelled divine. Nothing like the boys in college.

“Ready,” she announced, slipping her arms into her sleeves and grabbing her shoulder bag.

Y/N followed Harry down the steps to the entrance of the English building. Spotting her friend Lauren across the pavement coming out of the library, she waved and called her name.

“Have a good night, Mr. Styles,” Y/N paused, “I mean, Harry.”

She caught the twitch of his lips underneath the dim campus light before he said, “You too, Y/N.”

“That guy you work with is so hot,” remarked Lauren after she and Y/N had both ordered drinks at their favorite local pub.

“Who?” Y/N asked, accepting her beer from the bartender, “Harry?”

“You call him Harry?”

“He asked me to,” she said. “But I still call him Mr. Styles.”

“Jesus, that’s even hotter!”

Y/N laughed, nearly knocking over her glass. “Well, you’re not wrong. He is hot. But he’s very reserved.”

“Ooh the nerdy, quiet type! I like! Maybe you need to pull him out of his shell.”

“I dunno,” Y/N smirked with a shrug.

“C’mon. I bet you’re just the girl to do it,” Lauren insisted.

“And how do I do that, pray tell?”

“Ask him out!”

“I can’t just ask out my boss! There has to be rules against that sort of thing, right?”

“Hmmm,” Lauren nodded, taking a sip from her own beer. “Maybe casually suggest something. Like coffee, or a drink after work. In a social gathering type place, like here. Oh my God!”

“What?”

“The Halloween party! He probably knows about it - he might even already have plans on coming!” squealed Lauren.

“I doubt it,” Y/N shook her head.

“You never know. It’s mostly a school event anyway. You don’t even have to ask him out on a date, just tell him you’ll be there and he should come.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Y/N muttered, chewing her lip.

“I know! I have brilliant ideas,” Lauren declared.

Despite the unusually warm night, Harry could see his breath in front of him, instantly dissipating into the air. He pulled the collar up on his black coat as he continued down the pavement. Stopping at the corner of the pub, he could hear the music and chatter from inside. But there was only one voice he wanted to hear. Only one person whose blood he could already hear pulsing through his eardrums.

The smell was intoxicating - her smell. His mouth began to water as he peeked through the blinds of the old family pub. He found her quickly, sat at the bar with that friend of hers, the one who’d ruined his plan.

He had hoped to follow Y/N home after leaving the English building. Watch her climb the steps to her flat and let herself in. He’d done it a few times before, but he wouldn’t call it stalking. He just enjoyed her aroma, the rushing of her blood through her veins. Then when he was sure she was home safely, he’d turn around and walk home.

This particular night, however, he had thought perhaps he’d get the courage to walk up to her. Maybe act as if it was a coincidence that he was in her part of town. He’d even conjured up a lie, saying his plans for the evening had gotten canceled, if she seemed happy to see him. Then he’d ask her to join him for a drink. A glass of wine perhaps. But not at this noisy pub, no. Somewhere secluded, more…romantic.

Blasted Lauren, or whatever her name was. He reckoned he’d have to wait for another night. But…time was running out…

Lauren and Y/N called it a night after only two beers. Y/N was tired and Lauren had an early shift at the shop where she worked. After giving her friend a farewell hug, Y/N crossed the street and headed for home. She noticed a bit of a fog, thinking it suitable for this time of year. Halloween was only a few days away. She hadn’t originally planned on going to the party at the pub, seeing as Lauren had a date and she didn’t want to be the third wheel. But now the prospect of asking Harry had made her change her mind.

Making a list of possible last-minute costumes in her head, she suddenly heard something behind her. Turning her head, however, she saw nothing but empty pavement. Continuing on her way, she’d almost reached her building when she heard something again. This time, she turned swifty, seeing only a cloud of pillowy smoke. Thinking it odd for the fog to circulate in that manner, she felt a chill run down her spine. Her eyes shifted from side to side as her body stood frozen.

“Hello?” she called out meekly.

When she got no response, she slowly turned back around, only to run into a tall frame of a man. She nearly screamed when two hands grabbed her shoulders, but her words stalled when she looked up into a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Oh! Mr. Sty- Harry,” she breathed. “What…what are you doing here?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Y/N,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Still trembling, her heart beating loudly, Y/N blinked and nodded. “It’s…it’s okay. I thought someone was following me.”

“Oh, well now I do feel terrible.”

“No,” she swallowed, placing a hand over her chest. “Don’t, really. I was probably just paranoid. What with the fog and all.”

“Ah, yes. It is quite a foggy night, isn’t it?” Harry gazed around.

That was when Y/N noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses. She chuckled nervously as she felt Harry’s hands leave her arms.

“So what are you doing here?” she asked, bracing herself to hear Harry reveal details of his evening.

“Well, I…” he echoed the nervous chuckle, scratching his forehead. “It’s rather embarrassing actually. My plans got canceled.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” Y/N remarked.

“I’m not,” Harry grinned.

Y/N felt the blood rush through her veins at the way he smiled at her. She’d seen him smile many times, but this was different. It was as though a sudden spark had ignited behind his eyes.

“I know there’s a popular pub nearby,” he added. “Fancy a drink?”

Y/N’s eyes widened. Was he seriously asking her? Now?

“Well, I…” she muttered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I um…actually just came from there. Had some drinks with a friend.”

Harry caught himself before saying, “Oh, right.” Don’t be daft, Harry. She can’t know. Not yet. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I see.”

God, you’re a moron, Y/N scolded herself. He’s asking you out and you’re saying no?

“But you know…” Y/N quickly thought on her feet, “I may have a bottle of wine at my place. It’s just up there.”

“Really?” Harry cocked a brow as he turned his head in the direction she pointed.

“Sure. That is, if you’d like to come up.”

Would I? “Um, yeah, that sounds…great,” Harry nodded.

Y/N tried to conceal her delight, giving only a casual grin as she turned toward her building. She could feel Harry’s presence behind her, his shadow taller than hers underneath the streetlamp. It made her feel safe, but at the same time a tiny bit apprehensive. She had never invited Harry - nor anyone from the university for that matter - up to her apartment. She didn’t even think he knew where she lived. And yet…here he was. Just when she’d been thinking of him.

When she reached her front door, she scrambled for her keys, dropping them on the ground.

“Shit,” she cursed, but before she could bend down to retrieve them, another hand held them out in front of her.

“Oh. Thanks,” she whispered, her eyes meeting Harry’s who was already standing beside her, his body so close that she almost gasped.

“You’re welcome.”

Y/N didn’t miss the way his tone was so incredibly low, she felt it vibrate in her chest. She also didn’t miss the way his gaze didn’t leave her face, even when she inserted the key in the door.

“I really need to use the restroom,” she announced as soon as they were inside. “I’m so sorry. That beer I had earlier went right through me.”

“No worries,” Harry chuckled.

“Have a seat,” Y/N gestured with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she had shut the bathroom door, Harry slipped out of his coat, placing it on the armrest of a nearby chair. He then walked casually around the room, inspecting knick knacks and books on the shelves. Spotting a photo in a frame, he picked it up, Y/N’s smile gazing back at him as he felt a sudden rush. As though he’d been shocked with electricity, he quickly set it back on the shelf.

“Sorry about that!” he heard Y/N sing behind him.

He turned with a smile. Somehow in the few seconds she was gone, she had managed to make herself look even more…inviting. She wore an oversized jumper with the University logo on it and a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants. She couldn’t have looked cuter if she had been dolled up for a night out. But as she stepped closer to him, Harry got a massive whiff of her aroma and nearly stumbled backwards.

“So…wine!” she pointed at Harry with a giggle before turning for the kitchen.

“You know,” Harry swallowed, “we could take a raincheck if you like. I know you’re probably tired and…” His words stalled when he saw the disappointed look on her face.

“I just don’t want to put you out,” he finished.

“Oh, you’re not!” Y/N insisted. Then she reached for glasses in the cupboard, softly adding, “I’m actually glad you’re here.”

“You are?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, sucking in her lips. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Really?” Harry raised a brow.

Y/N felt the color rise on her face as she poured the wine. “I assume you’ve heard of the Halloween party?”

“I have. It’s at that pub, right?”

“Right. Are you going?” Y/N hesitantly handed Harry a glass.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip before making eye contact. “Um, hadn’t really thought about it, honestly.”

“Oh.”

“Why? Are you going?”

Y/N sighed as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t planning on it, but…my friend Lauren’s going, and her boyfriend Josh. A couple other people I know said they probably will…so…”

“You don’t have a date?”

Y/N stood up straight, her eyes wide. “Oh, it wouldn’t have to be like a date or anything,” she explained hastily. “Just…you know…thought you might like to go.”

“Ah,” a smirk grew on Harry’s handsome face. Damn it.

“I mean, I’ve never really seen you outside of school other than tonight, and…you totally don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” he interrupted.

A loud exasperated breath blew from between Y/N’s lips. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry continued grinning as he walked around the kitchen counter to stand next to Y/N. “I like Halloween. And I like you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as Harry came closer, his last words hanging in the air. She was almost unsure if she’d heard him correctly. But when he lifted his wine glass to his lips, took a sip and lowered it revealing another smirk, she knew she had.

“You-you do?”

“Of course. I thought I’d made that pretty clear, no?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “actually.”

“Shit. I must be terrible at this then.”

Y/N giggled, covering her mouth. “No. I’m horrible at reading signals, I think.”

Harry’s smirk grew into a wide smile. “Well, I reckon that’s out there now. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Y/N echoed, lifting her glass. When she lowered it, she looked at Harry. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without your glasses.”

“Yeah? Well, I…” he patted his chest, “have them in my pocket. I only really need them for reading.”

“Oh.”

“Of which we do a lot,” he added, wiggling his brows.

“Yeah,” Y/N chuckled through a sigh. “Well, you look nice. But you look nice with them, too.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N gestured toward the couch, and Harry followed, taking a seat next to her. As soon as he sat down, however, he got another intoxicating whiff of her aroma. He could tell she was nervous, her heart pumping fast. Closing his eyes, Harry took a moment to get his bearings.

No, not yet, he thought to himself. It’s not time yet.

“This is pretty good wine,” he heard Y/N say. Opening his eyes, he saw her gazing into her glass. “I’m not an expert, but I saw it at the liquor store and the guy there said it was good.”

“It’s delicious,” Harry agreed. “You made a good choice.”

“I have to watch myself though,” Y/N giggled, sitting back on the sofa. “I could easily get drunk on this.”

“Yeah?” Harry smirked.

“Mmm,” Y/N nodded as she took another sip. “I can already see myself going there, and I haven’t even finished one glass.”

Harry chuckled as he took his own sip, a rather larger one than hers. Then setting his empty glass on the coffee table, he scooted closer to Y/N. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, hear her pulse beating in his ears.

He watched her face as he reached for her wine glass and set it down next to his. Her beautiful, pouty lips matched the crimson shade of the wine, and his urge to taste them amplified. Lifting his hand, he ran his thumb across her bottom lip until she delicately opened her mouth, inviting his thumb to graze her tongue.

The contact nearly had him on his knees, his desire more than he could bear. Running his tongue along his teeth, he could feel his fangs emerging. He had to taste her. Now.

Now! Or get out!

The voice inside was getting louder. So much that he almost didn’t have the nerve to stop it. So he did the only thing he could do. The only thing that could possibly be done in that moment if he didn’t want to expose the truth.

No, not yet!

Snapping his hand back, Harry quickly rose from the sofa.

“I…I should go,” he said, his throat dry and harsh.

“Oh!” Y/N gasped as she looked up at him, ashamed and bewildered. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be,” Harry shook his head and grabbed his coat. “You did nothing. You’re…you’re enchanting. I just…I have to go. We’ll do this another time, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Y/N followed Harry to the door where he paused for only a moment to look back. She noticed his eyes were glassy, almost clear, bright. She took a step back, astonished.

“I’ll um…see you Monday,” Harry said, lowering his gaze. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Before she could reply, he was gone, like a cloud of smoke in the night. With a sigh, Y/N shut the door.

What had she done wrong?

Monday afternoon was going by slowly. Y/N looked at the clock. It was barely after five. Harry hadn’t uttered a word about what had happened Friday night. In fact, he was being his old self, very cordial and professional. It was driving Y/N crazy. She snuck a look in his direction as he concentrated on his laptop.

Fuck, Y/N sighed to herself. He’s so sexy with those glasses. And the sweater vest? Kill me now!

Harry suddenly looked up from his computer, his eyes locking with hers as if he had heard her thoughts. His lips began to do that little twitch again as Y/N dropped her pen, an obtrusive clattering sound when it hit the floor.

“What?” Harry finally asked with a smirk.

“Um, nothing,” Y/N scrambled, reaching down for her pen.

God, just ask him! Y/N screamed inwardly. What are you waiting for?

Sitting up at her desk, she noticed Harry had resumed his work, typing on his keyboard. With a sigh, Y/N clicked her pen as she tried to concentrate on something else. Something other than the taste of his stupid thumb on her bottom lip and the way his eyes had gone bright as he’d looked into her soul.

Suddenly, Harry chuckled. The sound was low at first, and Y/N wondered if he was reading something humorous on his laptop. But then the sound grew, and he turned his head to look at her.

“What is it, Y/N?” he asked again.

“What do you mean?” she stared, startled.

“You’re clicking that pen like a mad woman. Something’s up.”

Sitting up straight, Y/N slapped the pen down on the desk. “Sorry. I was just…wondering if you’re okay.”

“Me? I’m not the one acting crazy,” Harry joked.

“I mean…after Friday…”

“Oh…” Harry sighed, sitting back in his chair. Then removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, about that, I-”

“It’s okay,” Y/N interrupted, clearing her throat. Though she’d asked the question, she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for an answer. At least not the answer she figured she was about to get. “That was probably a mistake. Mr. Styles.”

“Y/N, no,” he shook his head. Then rising from his chair, he walked toward her, stopping at her desk. “Don’t think that. I just…”

His words trailed off as he surprised Y/N by perching himself on the corner of her desk.

“I like you, Y/N,” he confirmed. “I wasn’t lying about that, and it wasn’t the wine. I just feel the need to…take things slow with you.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I understand.”

“I shouldn’t have run off like that though; that was unfair to you. And I apologize.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Good,” Harry beamed. “So we’re still on for tomorrow?”

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded, biting her lip. “I hope so.”

“Brilliant. I’ll meet you there, yeah?”

Before Y/N could nod again, Harry leaned forward and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Then he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“That’s to make up for Friday,” he remarked, his mouth only a whisper away from hers.

“Oh.” Y/N could barely breathe.

“Your lips are delicious. Like that wine.”

Pressing another kiss to her mouth, Harry let out a low, deep groan. Y/N’s chest shook as she was finally able to inhale. When he backed away, she opened her eyes to see his were still closed. She watched as he swallowed hard, his jaw set.

“Harry…” she managed to squeak.

He opened his eyes slowly, and that’s when she noticed. Instead of the glowing crystal shade they had been Friday, they were a deep, dark shade of midnight. Startled once again, she hastily scooted back, her chair scraping against the floor.

“Y/N,” he croaked, slowly blinking. “Please don’t be frightened of me.”

“Your-your eyes!” she gasped. “They k-keep changing.”

“Oh,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. They do that sometimes. When I get…excited.”

“Excited?”

“Nothing to worry about, darling,” he reassured her, rising from the desk. “I’m sort of a…freak of nature.”

Y/N could detect the humorous tone in his words. But still, she remained in her seat, a bit frazzled.

“C’mere,” he said, holding out his hand.

Y/N took it hesitantly, allowing Harry to pull her to her feet. Lifting a hand, he lightly brushed her hair from her shoulder. Then she felt him touch her neck, his large hand gliding across it.

“So lovely,” he cooed, his voice just above a whisper. “Delicate, like a China doll.”

When he pulled her closer, she could feel his breath on her cheek. Then he nibbled at her jaw, sending a wave of desire down to her core.

Holy fuck, what is happening?

She gasped when his tongue met her skin, his other hand gripping her waist. She dug her nails into the front of his sweater, not sure how or where to hold on. As he began to suck on her delicate flesh just beneath her ear, she cried out in pleasure.

“Harry…”

Almost instantaneously, Harry pushed her back against the bookshelves. The thud caused a couple of books to fall off and onto the floor, but Harry continued with his seduction. Y/N lifted her leg, wrapping it around Harry’s in order to feel the friction she now so needed. Running her hands through his hair, she heard him growl in her ear.

“Y/N…I need you.”

“Me too,” she gasped.

When she pulled him even closer, tugging on the waistband of his trousers, however, Harry froze. Then he let out a guttural cry, like a wounded animal.

“Aaauuuuggggghhhhhh!” he screamed. “No!”

Pushing himself away from the bookshelf, he stood before Y/N as she remained still, her eyes wide. Harry appeared to be shaking, as though he was willing himself not to go further.

“Harry?” Y/N whispered.

His eyes shut tight, Harry shook his head. Then gritting his teeth, he motioned toward the door. “Go.”

“What?” Y/N asked incredulously.

“Goooo!” Harry shouted.

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

Folded over at his waist, Harry looked like he was trying to catch his breath. Her fear magnified, thinking something was terribly wrong. Y/N stepped forward, reaching for him.

“No!” he cried.

“Harry, you’re scaring me…”

“Just go. Please. You’re dismissed.”

Quickly, Y/N grabbed her jacket and bag and ran for the door. Turning back, she saw Harry, his back to her as he gripped the edge of the bookshelf. She didn’t dare run back to him, though deep inside she wanted to. She was afraid, not for her own safety…but for his.

Y/N stepped out of the English building into the cool evening air. The sun was just beginning to descend. Before making her way to the parking lot, she looked up at the building, to the window she knew was occupied by Dr. Osborne’s department. She saw no sign of Harry. In fact, the lights had been turned off.

Crossing the street, she felt a cold chill down to her bones. What had just happened? Was Harry ill? Or was he really a ‘freak of nature’ like he’d said? Perhaps he was not the sweet, nerdy guy she’d pinned him to be. Maybe he had some serious demons. Though she felt concerned for him, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

Harry watched her through the pub window again. She was dressed as an angel, of all things. This was too easy, too perfect.

But he might as well have had his eyes closed. He could hear her blood pumping through the glass. Her pulse was so loud, he could barely contain his excitement.

This was it. This would be the night.

“So you’re sure he’s not coming?” asked Lauren as they sat at the bar.

Y/N wasn’t going to show up herself, but she’d already put together an angel costume that she didn’t want to see go to waste.

“I mean, would you?” Y/N raised a brow.

She’d told her friend about the two episodes with Harry, and how both times he’d backed off. She didn’t go into details, though. Nothing about the eye color changing, or how he’d told her to leave. Some things were better left unsaid.

Lauren shrugged. “You never know. He might still show up.”

Josh returned from playing darts with his friends, declaring a new round of drinks was required.

“I think I might sit this one out,” remarked Y/N.

“No, girl, c’mon!” whined Lauren. “We’re here to have fun tonight. No matter what.”

“Okay, fine,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Two kamikazes over here!” her friend called out.

When Lauren swiveled around on her stool, Y/N caught the look of awe on her face. Then with a grin, she poked Y/N in the arm. Turning around, she spotted Harry entering the pub, dressed in black from head to toe.

“Yes, Daddy!” Lauren remarked under her breath.

“Harry!” exclaimed Y/N. “You came!”

“I told you I would,” he declared, stepping forward. “And I intend to keep my promises.”

“Look at you, man,” remarked Josh. “Great vampire costume.”

Harry looked down at his coat. He knew his fangs weren’t showing. Not yet. He checked his nails to be sure. Nope, clean and short. Raising his head, he heard Josh cackle.

“I mean, it’s subtle. But the eyeliner and clear eyes are effective.”

Ah. So it was the eyes. He couldn’t help that much. They had been glowing since he’d smelled Y/N’s blood. He’d let the lad think he was wearing makeup. It was Halloween after all.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” said Y/N, her sweet voice ringing out like the angel that she was.

Harry’s lips curled up in a smile. “Me too. Brilliant costume.”

The sound of Lauren clearing her throat cut through the moment before she handed Y/N her cocktail.

“What are you having, Mr. Styles?” she teased, giving Y/N a wink.

“Harry, please,” he insisted. “A glass of merlot would be divine.”

“Divine? Oooh, listen to this scholar!”

Y/N made a face, then turned back to Harry.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up. After yesterday.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to you about that,” he said, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “But later, okay? In private?”

“Okay.”

After Harry received his merlot, everyone made a toast. As soon as “Thriller” began to play, Lauren cheered, pulling Josh off his stool to dance with her.

“They had a head start,” Y/N commented with a giggle.

“No, I’m late, and I apologize. But I can catch up,” Harry winked.

The evening progressed, the foursome sharing laughs and cocktails. Some other people from the university recognized Harry and came over to say hello. As the clock ticked on, however, Harry knew his time was getting limited.

“I need to talk to you now,” he told Y/N. “Walk with me?”

“Oh. Okay,” she slipped down from her stool and announced her departure to her friends.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Lauren teased before waving goodbye.

“Are you okay to walk?” Harry asked once they were outside.

“I think so,” she smirked. “You may need to carry me.”

“I could probably manage that,” Harry chuckled.

The cool night air seemed to help, however, and by the time they rounded the corner of the pub, the couple was holding hands.

“I had a great time,” declared Y/N. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too.”

“So what did you want to tell me?”

“First, I wanna show you something.”

Harry squeezed her hand, guiding her to the left behind the pub. Y/N chuckled to herself as she heard the beat of “Time Warp”, the volume getting lower before she and Harry came to the local park.

Harry gestured toward a bench, taking a seat next to her. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself.

“Are you cold?” asked Harry.

“A little. I didn’t bother with a coat because…you know, wings.”

“You’ll be much warmer soon,” he commented.

Y/N turned to give Harry a look but noticed his eyes were focused on the sky.

“What is it?” Y/N inquired.

“Just looking at the moon,” Harry replied. “It’s mystifying, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…I guess.”

Harry could feel his eyes changing already, his teeth sharpening in his mouth. Running his tongue across them, he swallowed hard.

“Do you ever wonder if you’re destined to be something else?” he suddenly asked.

“Um…yeah,” Y/N blinked. “All the time.”

“What would you do if you were immortal?”

Harry turned his head then, and Y/N noticed his eyes were dark, like they had been in the English office. She instantly scooted back on the bench, nearly falling off.

“Please don’t be frightened, my angel. I mean no harm to you.”

“Harry, what’s….what’s going on?” she croaked, her own eyes unable to tear away from his.

Harry reached his hand out, his nails now long with pointed ends. Y/N gasped, her mouth wide open.

“Let me show you, Y/N,” he coaxed, grabbing her hand. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, my love. It’s our destiny.”

Before Y/N could reply, Harry’s mouth covered hers in a deep kiss. He could feel her struggle to break free for just a split second before she melted into the kiss with him. Cradling the back of her head, he deepened the kiss further, his tongue wrestling with hers. He felt her moan against him, and that pleased him.

She grabbed hold of the lapels on his coat, pulling him closer. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he held her tight as his mouth continued to devour hers. He heard her start to whimper, and he couldn’t help but chuckle low. His angel. She needed him.

Y/N gasped as Harry’s mouth moved to her neck. She felt him nibble along the delicate flesh, her senses reeling. Suddenly, he groaned in her ear, his voice deep.

“It’s time, my angel.”

Time? Time for what?

Before the words could escape her lips, she felt a sharp sting followed by the most blissful, orgasmic sensation she’d ever experienced. The blood in her veins seemed to rush so rapidly, and so loudly that she could hear it, like waves crashing in her ears. She threw her head back as Harry held onto her, his mouth never leaving her neck.

She thought she called out in ecstasy, though she was unsure if it was only in her mind. She grasped at Harry’s arms, needing to feel him, to hold him for fear of falling.

The pleasure began to heighten even more, Y/N’s nails digging into Harry’s coat until she was suddenly cloaked in darkness, as though the world had gone black. 

“Y/N…”

She heard the soft, low coo before she opened her eyes.

“Wake up, angel,” he said.

“Harry…” she whispered, her throat dry. “What…?”

Feeling her tremble, he pulled her close. “Shh, baby. Everything’s okay now. I’m right here.”

“Where are we?” she inquired, gazing around the dark room, filled with lit candles.

“My bed,” Harry grinned.

“Oh.”

And just like that, Y/N didn’t even question it. Being in Harry’s room, with him in his bed felt…natural. Almost like deja vu. Lush linens, the smell of plums and incense. Her warm, naked body next to his. It felt familiar. It was right.

Seeing that Y/N was now content, Harry smiled wide. Then sliding his hand up her side, he cupped her breast. Her eyelids fluttered as she let out a long moan.

“Ah, you’re ultra sensitive now, hmm?” Harry commented as he ran his thumb across her nipple.

“Harry…mmm…”

Rolling onto her side, she pulled him into a kiss, needing to feel him. She sucked on his tongue, grabbed his hard cock. She was hungry with lust.

“Easy, baby,” he panted. “We have all the time in the world.”

“But I need you now,” she explained with a pout.

With a raspy chuckle, Harry laid her back on the bed, hovering over her luscious body.

“I wanna taste you first,” he insisted.

Biting her lip, Y/N nodded. Yes, taste me.

His long body slithered down hers until he was facing her hips and thighs. Her scent permeated the sheets, and he found a moan rising from his throat.

My delicious angel.

Y/N let out a loud cackle when Harry lightly tickled her bare skin along her hips. Harry grinned, knowing her sensitivity was accelerated. But it was not just his touch that had her laughing. It was the mere awareness of everything. Being in the moment. The utter bliss and sexual desire was almost more than her senses could handle.

Harry could hardly contain his desire either. He needed to taste her, to feel her writhing underneath him. But he also wanted to take it slow.

He rutted his head against the inside of her legs, like a dog wanting to be petted. He felt her nails dig into his hair, grabbing his curls just before he began to nibble on her thigh. As her moans got louder, ringing in his ears and throughout the room, Harry wondered how long he could hold out - or better yet, how long she could hold out.

With wild abandon, he let himself be the freak of nature he claimed to be. He heard her squeal before her expletive.

“Holy shit, did you just bite me?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled low. “Did it hurt?”

“Actually…no. Do it again.”

With another grin, Harry ran his thumbs across her bare flesh along her inner thigh.

“I love your skin here,” he commented. “It’s so soft and supple.”

Then lowering his head again, he let his fangs graze down her leg and back up. He felt Y/N tremble beneath him, a small cry rising from her throat. Then very gently, he pressed a little harder, barely piercing the skin.

Y/N moaned in pleasure as Harry licked the area clean, tasting her sweet blood on his tongue. Then he moved his tongue to the task at hand - what he’d come for. Centering his mouth over her mound, he let out a cool breath, tickling her. She squirmed beneath him, her desire silent but apparent. She craved him just as much as he craved her. Then lifting her hips, he brought his tongue to her clit, giving it one quick flick before diving in.

If there was one thing Harry knew he was good at - other than his knowledge of English literature - it was eating pussy. And now that he was a creature of the night, he could do it for hours, for days. Of course, having a sweet angel like Y/N beneath him was all he needed now.

Y/N’s moans began to subside a bit, but Harry knew it was not because she wasn’t enjoying it. On the contrary. She was so enraptured by his talent, she could barely breathe.

Sweet little kitten. He almost felt sorry for her, but not really. He knew this was what she wanted, what she was destined for. He’d felt it the first time they’d met. Her wide-eyed stare when she thought he wasn’t looking. Her cute little shy giggles at every stupid joke he made. The intoxicating aroma of her blood rushing through her veins. And when she’d finally invited him up to her flat…

“Oh my God…” she panted, her nails digging into his head. “Oh!”

Harry hummed against her cunt, tasting her sweet juices. He knew she was close. He’d let her come this time. She needed it. Needed that release. Just this once. Next time he’d make her ride it out longer, because he knew she could.

As his lips took hold of her clit once more, sucking gently, Y/N gasped. Then crying his name, she gushed and came on his tongue, just like he’d wanted.

Her orgasm lasted longer than any she’d had before…not that she could recall even one in that moment. Her chest heaved with breaths as she tried to come down. She felt Harry’s body climb up before he laid down next to her.

“How do you feel, my angel?” Harry cooed.

With a deep, long sigh, Y/N gave a wide grin.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect,” she replied, fluttering her eyelids open to reveal her crystal clear eyes.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! xo

taglist: @daydreaming-laur, @musicforastylesrestaurant, @lillefroe, @be-with-me-so-happily (so sorry if I forgot anyone!!)

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Life Did Not Treat Us Well 🌙 | Harry Potter Imagine

set during the events of HP 3 & 7

HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: all platonic—Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Minerva McGonnagal, Albus Dumbledore

Content Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, implied character death, cannon divergence | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Premise:

When the dust clears at Hogwarts, Harry searchers for the one person who can relate to him, now that all close to his parents were dead. She was the last remanence of the family he could have had, if life had treated them well. Now they were two lost souls, carrying the weight of reality on their shoulders. But while Harry would one day greet death as an old friend, she was bound to the Earth forever.

-----------

Harry found his Godmother in the Astronomy Tower. Or what was left of it really. Seated on the edge with feet hanging off, the cool breeze blowing through her hair. As he got closer, he saw the blank look in her eye, staring out to the distance at the river and trees. Smoke from the fires sizzling out until disappearing forever. 

He announced himself as he approached, although Harry knew she was aware of his presence. “Thought I might find you here.” Coming beside her, Harry crouched and swung his legs off the ledge to sit next to her. 

“This used to be my favorite spot in the castle,” She replied without looking at him, but Harry heard the small smile in her voice. The tone one has when recalling happy memories. “I loved coming up here after hours to admire the stars. It was the one place I found solace in, and what I missed most after….” 

Harry understood what she referred to, tilting his head down. The question left his lips without thinking, “Did you ever hate them? Dumbledore, Sirius….Remus. At any point?” He glanced up with curious eyes, “For what happened that night.” The boy received a sigh, emanating the exhaustion she felt after the long, devastating battle. It was laced with grief and sorrow. Making Harry regret asking. He went to apologize but she cut him off. 

“To say I didn’t want to would be a lie,” the confession hung in the air, a tightening in her chest despite the weightlifting off her shoulders. “Especially in the beginning, Harry. It’s why many years passed before I returned home. I was enraged.” Turning to him, she pressed her lips together, “I feared what I’d do, and it didn’t help that my emotions were not only all over the place, but heightened and made me uncontrollable.” 

A shiver migrated down her spine, the memory of her early years after the transformation resurfacing. Along with the fear, guilt, and despair. Sniffing, she panned back to the river, “But you must know, I do not-- did not, ” she corrected with a crack, “hate Remus. Nor did I harbor any blame for what he did. He wasn’t in his right mind, as you’ve witnessed when there’s a full moon.”

Harry shuddered, thinking back to his third year. The night of many revelations. Sirius’ innocence, Peter’s betrayal, Remus’s lycanthropy…and Y/n’s vampirism. 

“But Sirius and Dumbledore…..”

He heard her sharp intake of breath, her voice growing lower, “It pains me to admit it, Harry, but…..I wanted to kill them. ” Of course that feeling disappeared a long time ago. After a long journey of reflection, acceptance, and resilience. Y/n forgiving Sirius for his actions that led to her nearly dying at the hands of Remus when she saved Snape from falling into Sirius’ trap. Their reunion in 1993 was a bittersweet moment. Filled with apologies and hope for the future. 

As for Dumbledore, part of her--especially now after everything that’s happened, after everything she’s lost, deep down Y/n wishes he had let her succumb to the injuries. 

“What do we do, Albus!” Madam Pomprey shouted, on the verge of hyperventilating as she attempted to aid the girl in front of her. Blood poured from multiple parts of her body as she laid on the bed. Withering, shivering, turning paler by the second. 

James and Sirius stood frozen in the corner, covered in Y/n’s blood from hauling her to the infirmary, watching the scene unfold with horror. Snape, laying in his own bed, mirrored their expressions as Professor McGonnagal tried to block his view. The older woman had a hand covering her mouth, “God be with us.”

Y/n groaned, face becoming drowsy as her body desired sleep. Madam Pomprey’s dress painted deep red, pleading to the headmaster with her eyes. “This is beyond my reach, headmaster. We must take her to St. Mungos.”

Albus refused, “She’s in no condition to apparate, nor travel by Floo. She’ll die before we’d set foot inside.” He thought deeply, glancing between the girl and his colleagues with an unreadable expression. Then, as though fighting the thoughts in his head, Albus sighed in defeat. “There’s only one way to save the girl.” As he reached into his pocket, retrieving the vial he’d grabbed on his way out of his office in case of the worst possible outcome, Albus motioned for Filch. “Send an owl to the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Tell them they must send a representative to Hogwarts before the sun rises--it is a matter of the highest urgency.” 

With a nod, Filch makes haste out of the infirmary towards the owlery. Leaving the remaining members of the group confused and worried. Minerva approaches the man, “The Department of Magical Creatures? What in Heaven's name are you thinking, Dumbledore? Remus didn’t bite Y/n--.” She then notices the vial in his hand, face dropping, “What is that?”

Albus briefly glances at the boys before focusing back on Y/n. Preparing himself for the negative reaction he was sure to receive. “ Vampire venom .” Air catches in all their throats, Sirius looking like he wants to throw up. The women gasp, Minerva absolutely appalled. 

“Are you suggesting turning the girl into a vampire?!” her voice carries with an unfamiliar tone no one had ever seen from the professor. It was like she didn’t recognize the man in front of her. In disbelief he even possessed the venom when only three known vampires were alive and located away from England. 

“It’s the only way to save the girl, Minerva.”

“That is illegal!” She shouted, making even Pompfrey flinch. James and Sirius felt their stomachs drop, hearts pounding against their chest. Seeing their head of House look genuinely frightened on top of their best friend dying ignited a fury of anxiety. Minerva stepped closer to Albus, voice stern, “If the Ministry doesn’t see fit to kill her they will surely send her away. They will remove her from Hogwarts--and her family! To be alone for all eternity,” Minerva’s heart already broke for the girl. Her favorite student and protegee. “If you do this you are sentencing her to a fate worse than death, Albus.” 

He was quiet for a moment, as if debating what to do. But then brushed past the woman to move beside Y/n, uncorking the vial. “Likely so. But it is a risk worth taking.”

Minerva had to turn away, squeezing her eyes shut to not watch the man do the unthinkable. Meanwhile James steps forward, sweat still beading his forehead and yells, “You can’t do that, headmaster!” Albus’ hand pauses in the air before it could pour the liquid in Y/n’s mouth. Glancing up to find James’s horrified face. The young Potter had read a bit on vampires along with the stories his father told him. 

The most notable details being vampires were hunted all over the globe to the point only three were known to be alive. Living off the grid and nomadic. And that not every human bit survives the transformation. More often they die before the venom reaches the heart depending on their state. 

Knowing this, James feared for his friend. “What if she doesn’t survive the change?” Albus simply looked at him and replied, “And what if she does?” James said nothing, gulping as he took his place back beside Sirius. 

They watched intently as the headmaster leaned over Y/n, gently parting her lips to open her mouth. “I am truly sorry about this, my dear.” Pausing, he glanced up to Pompfrey, “Clear the room. Anyone with open wounds and covered in blood will be her target.” With urgency, Pompfrey had the boys help her lift Snape out of the infirmary. Leaving only Minerva and Albus with Y/n, who was moments away from death.

“Are you sure about this, Albus?” Minerva asked one last time. Her eyes glossed over, saying a mental prayer for Y/n and for herself in the case the transformation works and Y/n attacks them in a bloodlust. 

Though sure of himself, Albus felt his heart skip a beat the moment he let the venom fall into Y/n’s mouth, “Regardless if I am sure…there’s no turning back now.”

“I hated them,” she voiced with emotion, picturing the moment she awoke to a new reality, Harry noticing the way her eyes glossed over. “Dumbledore especially. Sirius I forgave because at the end of the day he was just being a stupid kid who didn’t think his actions had consequences. But Dumbledore…I never looked at him the same again. After all, he was the one who made the choice. Yes, he saved my life, and you’d think I’d be grateful,” she shook her head, turning back to Harry with sorrow filled eyes, “but how can I, when he sentenced me to walk the Earth for all eternity. Stuck with the same face I had at eighteen. Never to grow old while those around me live their lives until death comes to greet them.”

And now she was the last Marauder. All of her friends were dead, leaving her alone in the world. 

Harry’s heart broke for his Godmother. With his parents, Sirius, Remus--and even Snape--gone, Y/n was the last person close to his parents living. The only family he had left--save for his muggle aunt and uncle who really could care less about whether he lived or died in the war. 

It was just him and Y/n. The Boy Who Lived and the Lone Vampire.

Harry thought back to the first day of his third year. The day he and his friends met Lupin. Enjoying their dinner with their house in the Great Hall and how curious everyone became at the mention of another guest roaming the halls.

The Frog choir had just finished their song, the room erupting into applause as Dumbledore took to his podium. 

“Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” He announced with raised arms, “Now I’d like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who’d kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” He motions to the man, who stands from his chair to smile and wave to the crowd. “Good luck, professor.”

Beside Lupin, Snape offers three simple claps while remaining stoic, while the other teachers beam at the newest edition to their faculty. 

Dumbledore continues, “Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years has decided to retire, in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I’m delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid.” As the half-giant stands, shaking the table as he does, the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers. Some whistling and shouting with glee. 

“Finally,” The headmaster quiets the crowd, “on a more describing note. At the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will until further notice play host to the Dementors of Azkaban until such a time Sirius Black is captured.” Murmurs echo against the walls, students whispering in hushed voices. Faces painted with concern. Most notably Harry, who turns to his friends, also visibly worried. 

“The Dementors will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Now, whilst I’ve been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities…,” he pauses slightly, eyes catching a figure walking past the entrance of the Great Hall. Dressed head-to-toe in black leather, heels barely clicking against the pavement with how light her footsteps were. Behind Dumbledore, the demeanor of the entire faculty shifted. Lupin and Snape tensing, while Minerva visibly paled. 

The students, particularly the Golden Trio, took the change in behavior in regard to the Dementors & Sirius Black. Who could blame them really. Sirius Black was the talk of the town. Then there was the incident on the train with the Dementors. None were aware of the mysterious woman disappearing from sight as she passed the entrance to continue her journey throughout the castle.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, “A word of caution. Dementors are vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving,” he pauses once more, lifting a finger, “but you know, happiness to be found even in the darkest of times.” His hand waves over a candle, distinguishing the flame, “One only remembers to turn on the light.” waving his hand again, the flame returns. 

“With that being said, we’ve taken the necessary precaution to further ensure your safety in the castle.” Albus glances over his shoulder and meets Minerva’s eyes, then quickly does the same to Remus and Severus before returning his attention to the crowds. All three appear nervous. Deep down, Albus feels the same, but puts on a fake smile. “We are pleased to welcome another guest to Hogwarts.” 

This piques the interest of everyone, and Harry straightens in his seat to look around the faculty for an unfamiliar face. However he falls up short, narrowing his brows in confusion. 

“A fellow alum, who’s recently returned to England after many years abroad. Miss. Y/n L/n…” murmurs once again fill the room, mostly laced with wonder when they notice Dumbledore had not motioned toward a woman to provide face to a name, like he did Lupin. Harry frowns, looking at Hermione who just shrugs in response. “Has graciously accepted the position of taking over nightly surveillance from Mr. Filch. She’ll be roaming the halls after curfew and is expected to report any and all suspicious activity. Including any students out of bed. Therefore, I advise you all to not leave your dormitories after hours,” Dumbledore’s voice suddenly turns serious, “unless you wish to receive the proper punishment.”

Off to the side Harry overheard the twins, Fred and George, mumble something along the lines of, “That’s rubbish. How are we supposed to see if she’s fit if she’s only in the castle at night?” A statement which had all the girls in proximity roll their eyes and glare. 

Ron leaned over to Harry, whispering loud enough for Hermione to hear, “that must suck. Imagine being the only one awake the entire night while everyone else is asleep. Quite a boring job if you ask me.” 

Dumbledore ended the announcement, expression slightly troubled, “Miss. L/n will not be joining us for day-to-day activities, her duty is required at night. 

While Ron and Hermoine fell into conversation as the feast began, Harry’s attention was rather occupied. Noticing something strange those around him failed to see. 

The guilty faces of his teachers. Including Dumbledore and Snape. 

It would be a few months into the term that Harry would first meet Y/n. Dumbledore wasn’t joking about her reporting all activity after hours. Several students had breached curfew. Some go to House parties, others to get a glimpse of Hogwarts mysterious security guard. Each was met with detention that week, and all were shocked having never spotted the woman lurking about the castle. 

It was as if she were a ghost. But even the ghosts of Hogwarts were lively. 

She was all but a mystery. 

It was a bad idea. He knew better than to sneak out of the dorms after hours. But seeing the name Peter Pettigrew, a man known to be dead on the Marauder’s map, Harry had to investigate. So, with his wand leading the light in front of him, he made his way into the halls toward ‘Pettigrew’s’ location. 

“Put that light out!”

“Sorry,” he apologized to the portrait, bringing the light in front of the map. There it showed Peter moving towards him. Harry paused, staying in his position while flicking his wand outward, but caught nothing in the darkness. 

His heart pumped faster, breathing heavily as he felt the anxiety rise. What was he supposed to do? Peter Pettigrew was supposed to be dead. What would it mean if he was alive? What did it mean for Sirius Black?

The footsteps on the map closed in on Harry, until they were right in front of him. Then Harry turned, lifting his gaze expecting to see the culprit but scared himself as he met his own reflection in a mirror. Confused, Harry looked back at the map to find Peter’s name scurrying away, turning the corner moving away from Harry. 

Then another name appeared.

Severus Snape approached the intersection of the opposite corridor, Harry mentally cursing as he waved his wand over the map, “Mischief managed. Nox,” the light went off, plunging him into darkness. 

Unfortunately he was a second too late. Severus non-verbally casts ‘Lumos’ and flashes the light in his face. “Potter,” he snarled. “What are you doing wandering the corridors at night?”

“I was sleepwalking,” was the first thing that popped into Harry's mind. A horrible excuse he was sure Snape wouldn’t believe but tried anyway. 

“Extraordinary like your father you are, Potter,” Snape muttered, tone laced with displeasure. “He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting about the castle.”

“My dad didn’t strut,” Harry sassed, “and nor do I.” Matching Snape’s hard stare, Harry never lost eye contact, “Now if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you lowered your wand.”

Almost like he was impressed with Harry’s attitude, Snape made a face, pointing his hand downward so his wand was directed at the floor. “Turn out your pockets.” When Harry didn’t move, Snape repeated the order sternly, “Turn out. Your pockets.”

Sighing through his nose, Harry removed the map from his hoodie, but did not offer it to Snape. 

“What’s this?”

“A bare bit of parchment.”

“Really,” Snape didn’t believe him. “Open it.” A second paused before Harry complied. Then Snape placed his wand directly over the parchment. “Reveal your secrets.” They watched as lettering appeared, revealing the names Harry already became familiar with but instead of a map, there was a message. “Read it.”

“Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs,” Harry began, briefly flicking his eyes up , “and Missus. Hops, offer their compliments to Professor Snape and--.” Harry cut himself off, unsure to continue as his eyes scanned over the next sentence. 

“Go on,” Snape drawled, and Harry lifted his head to look at him. 

“And request that he keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.”

Snape saw red, “Why you insolent little--.”

“Professor,” Remus announced himself, Snape turning so fast Harry thought he ought to have whiplash. Black hair pretty much covers his eyes.

“Well, well. Lupin . Out for a little walk….in the moonlight. Are we?” 

Remus ignored Snape, offering only a smirk as he approached the two. “Harry. You alright?”

“That remains to be seen.” Snape, again, turned hastily and snatched the parchment out of Harry’s hands. Leaving the boy stunned. “I have just confiscated a rather curious artifact from Mr. Potter. Take a look, Lupin,” he extends his hand, allowing Remus to take it. “It’s supposed to be your area of expertise. Clearly, it is full of dark magic.”

Remus rolls his eyes at the accusation. “I seriously doubt it, Severus. It looks to me as though it’s merely a parchment designed to insult anyone who tries to read it.” His chuckle echoes. “I suspect it’s a Zonko product. Nevertheless,” he moves his hands away when Snape attempts to retrieve the parchment. “I should investigate any hidden qualities it may possess. “‘Tis after all, as you say, my area of expertise.” 

As Remus goes to have Harry follow him out, they are interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, causing all three of them to freeze. Severus points his wand out, light emitting into the darkness. They follow the light as he points it in the opposite direction, where they see nothing. Then, as they turn back to the original direction they were facing, the three men stagger back when they’re greeted with the sight of a woman standing directly in front of them.

She was dressed in all black. Beneath her long trench coat, she wore a turtleneck, gloves, and heeled boots. Striking facial features. So youthful; skin clear and smooth like fine China, a jawline and cheekbones that could cut through wood and eyes void of color. They were a bright gray, nearly white. And the moment she spoke Harry noticed how white her teeth were. Reflecting against the light from Snape’s wand. 

“Gentlemen.” Her voice was feathery. Almost a whisper with a slight echo. Unlike anything Harry ever heard. She sounded far away despite being so close. 

Harry saw the way the men reacted to the arrival of their guest. Relaxed, but somewhat uneasy. Remus’s head slightly tipped down, “ Y/n.” Harry’s face contorted to shock, despite assuming the moment he saw the woman that it was Y/n. But what made the boy think otherwise was how young she appeared. As though she were a student and not faculty. Physically looking like she belonged with the seventh years. “Apologies for disturbing you this evening.”

Y/n’s expression was stoic, “Your apology should be directed to those hanging on the wall trying to sleep. Something you all should be doing as well.” Eyes flickered over to Snape, then to Harry, causing the boy to tense under her gaze. It lingered on him for a moment before returning to Remus, “It is not safe to be out at this hour.”

“Agreed,” Snape drawled, glaring at Lupin slightly. “We were all just leaving. Isn’t that right, Lupin?”

“Yes,” the DADA professor cleared his throat. “That’s right. I was actually going to request Harry’s company back to my office to answer a few questions regarding this item he came into possession of,” he waved the map in his hands. Casting a knowing look to Y/n, who merely raised a brow at the parchment. Then her lips curled up while lifting her hand. 

“Might I?”

At first he was hesitant, but then Remus slowly lowered the parchment into her palm, her delicate fingers taking grasp before analyzing the piece up close. “Well, well,” she hummed, a glint in her eyes. “What a peculiar thing. With a sense of humor.” She ignored the annoyed reaction from Snape, making Harry hold back a snicker. 

“Yes,” Remus murmurs with a small smile, but it’s filled with emotion as he looks down at her. When she met his eyes, the man straightened, clearing his throat. “Again, our apologies for the disturbance.” 

Y/n hands the map back, nodding sharply, “Quite alright. At least it was you all responsible for the noise.” She smirks, “I’d hate to report the Weasley twins again for the third time this week.” Remus chuckles and Harry smiles while Snape just rolls his eyes. 

“Been having your hands full, I take it?” 

A scoff escapes her, “Like you wouldn’t believe. These students are more rebellious than I imagined. Though I have to give it to them. They’ve become rather creative in their ways of sneaking out after curfew.”

Remus tilts his head, “More so than how we were,” he whispers so Harry doesn’t catch it, but knowing she would. Her nod confirms so, and Remus shakes his head with a chuckle. “Well I can only assume Filch is pleased to have the nights off now.”

“Oh, he makes it well known when we trade off at dusk.” They share another laugh, but she cuts it off when she spots Harry watching them with curious eyes. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to it then.” Her eyes traveled to Harry, making his breath catch as they lingered on him. Pinning him to his spot as he caught the way they softened. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Harry Potter.” 

The boy stuttered out a response, “It--it’s nice to meet you too, Miss. L/n.” 

“Please, call me Y/n.” She approaches him, stopping short and before anyone could react, she was lifting a gloved hand to his face. Gently brushing a finger over his cheek, causing Harry’s heart to skip a beat. Even with gloves on, her touch was chilling. 

Behind her Harry saw the professors stiffen, meekly sharing a glance. Then Y/n’s voice echoed once more against the silent, almost a kiss of a whisper. “My, don’t you look like your father.” Harry swallowed, processing her words which were nothing but a shock to him that the woman knew his father. Then again as she, with a pained tone, added, “But those eyes… those eyes are all Lily .”

Harry wanted to know more about Y/n after that night. About her relationship with his parents. How she knew Lupin. And Snape when she appeared no older than Percy Weasley. Why was she confined to patrol the halls of Hogwarts at night and could not join them during the day. He tried asking Lupin questions when they got to his office but the man was reluctant to answer. 

Harry had told Hermione and Ron of his interaction with the woman the next day. Igniting surprise in friends as well as curiosity. Hermione particularly found Y/n’s predicament quite questionable. And all the more suspicious when Harry mentioned her youthful appearance. 

“I’m telling you she knew my parents,” He said, placing the goblet on the table. Glancing up he was met with her penetrating stare, brows furrowed.

“That’s impossible, Harry,” she leaned over after checking to see if anyone was listening. “If what you’re saying is true, she’d have to be the same age as Lupin--in her thirties. The only other thing I can think of is she was a child whose parents were friends with yours. Are you sure it wasn’t just your eyes playing tricks on you?”

He shook his head, crossing his arms over the table as he thought back to the night’s events. “No. The way she and Lupin interacted…it was friendly, but tense at the same time. Same with Snape--like they were old acquaintances.” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Whatever, you’re probably right. She must’ve graduated the year before we came here--that would make sense why Snape knew her too.” 

Hermione felt like something was still off, “but…you said she didn’t look older than Percy.”

“So?” Ron cuts in.

“So,” Hermione repeats with an edge to her voice, “It doesn’t make sense for her to be the same age as Percy, but graduated three years ago and knew Harry’s parents the way he’s implying she did.”

“Then she might be twenty or something,” Ron swallows a mouthful of food. At their expressions he lifts his hands with a shrug, “Look all I’m saying is some people age differently. There’ve been times where I can’t tell if someone is eighteen or twenty-five.” 

Hermione slumped in her seat, no longer feeling the energy to argue. Ron did have a point, but her intuition was screaming at her there was more to the story. She’d have to do some digging.

The Golden trio discovered many revelations the night Sirius Black came to Hogwarts. After Sirius dragged Ron into the Shrieking Shack, where Hermione and Harry followed them too, they were stunned to their core upon the arrival of Remus and Y/n. Hermione nauseated at being in the same room as Y/n once more. Having met her the night after Harry when she snuck out of the dorms to the library. It led her to investigate the years Harry’s parents were at Hogwarts, at the same time Snape assigned an essay on werewolves . Resulting in Hermione to uncover two shocking discoveries. 

And seeing the two with Sirius brought an overwhelming fear to consume her. 

“No!” She shouted, still blocking Harry from the three. “I trusted you! He’s a werewolf!” She points to him, glancing over her shoulder to her friends. “That’s why he’s been missing classes.” She gulps, moving her gaze to the woman beside Lupin. Her voice went lower, “And she….she’s a vampire .” The boys’ stomach plummeted, shudders running up their spines as their mouths went agape. 

Lupin was a werewolf. And Y/n was a vampire.

Lupin creeps closer, removing his hand from Sirius shoulder while Y/n stays put. “How long have you known?”

“Since Professor Snape sent the essay,” she pauses again, a cold chill upon her by the way Y/n was staring at her. Intimidating her with those blank eyes. “And when I found the yearbook from when you were all at school. She’s looked the same for fifteen years!” Hermione took a step back as Y/n moved beside Lupin. “Minus the eyes. It’s why she only walks the castle at night. And why Dumbledore’s been having blood from blood banks donated to madam Pomprey.”

The adults are impressed, Y/n holding back a laugh as she mutters, “Clever girl.”

Remus smirks, “Well, well, well Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age I’ve ever met.” From behind, Sirius loses his patience.

“Enough talk, Remus, c’mon. Let’s kill him!”

“Wait--!”

“I did my waiting!” The words echo off the walls, bursting out of Sirius's chest like an explosion. “Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!”

The night had been full of so much chaos. Not only was their professor a werewolf and nightguard a vampire, but Peter Pettigrew was alive and Sirius was innocent. Then Sirius revealed to Harry once they left the Shack that Y/n had actually been named Harry’s Godmother. Filling in the blanks Harry conjured as he tried to piece together the relationship she had with his parents. 

Sirius didn’t want to talk about the night she turned, but informed Harry that she’d left England by order of the Ministry. They put her on their record of living vampires and told her she’d have to request permission to return each time she wanted to visit. Sentencing her to a nomadic life across the globe. The one time she did come home was shortly after Harry’s birth when Lily managed to track her down. Three years after becoming a vampire, her self-control had improved. 

Their conversation was interrupted when the group had the horrifying realization it was the night of a full moon. Lighting up the sky as it broke through the clouds. Casting down its curse on the man bound to it. 

Harry will never forget the image of watching Remus in full transformation going toe-to-toe with Y/n’s true form. The black veins under her bloodshot, blackened eyes. The gray disappeared from the dilation of her pupils. Fangs protruding from her gums, jaw practically dislocated and hissing like a wild animal out for the blood she craved. The two ripping at each other’s flesh, their strength inhuman. Y/n obviously holding back to not kill Remus by accident, who was fighting her with the intent to kill given his mind was lost to the moon. If either of them bit the other it would end in tragedy. 

And while at the time Y/n had 15 years of self-control under her belt, there was always the risk she could lose it.

Even Snape was terrified. Seeing the creature in replace of the girl who saved his life all those years prior. A painful reminder of what could have been his reality. In the years following the incident Snape felt guilt and remorse for Y/n--who’d been the only one in James Potter’s friend group to show him kindness. Often scolding the others for their behavior. She was close to Lily and even sat with her and Snape in class or the Great Hall.

After the clouds cleared and the sun replaced the moon, Harry found himself in Remus’s office, alongside Y/n. It was the first time she’d been out in the daylight, though her body was covered head-to-toe, and sunglasses masked her eyes. Staying along the walls where the shadows seek shelter from the sun. 

“What happened?” Harry asked her when Remus left the room, but not before giving Y/n a friendly hug with the promise to write to her. She would be returning to Hogwarts, continuing her position as night guard. The Golden trio added to the small list of people aware of her condition. “How did you…” he bit his lip, unsure of the right words. “Become what you are?”

If she was bothered by the question, she was good at hiding it. Face never wavering from its expression. “It’s not a pleasant story to the ears, Harry. And I don’t,” she gave a sad smile. “I don’t want to ruin the image you have of your Godfather and Dumbledore--and even Remus.” That had him confused. 

Why would it ruin his image of them? Especially Dumbledore?

“You’re my Godmother,” Harry defended, still reeling in the happiness of knowing he had some family besides his abusive aunt and uncle. People who cared for him. “I want us to not have secrets with each other. I want to understand you--and know how to help you.” 

Y/n chuckled, bringing a cold hand to push some hair from Harry’s face that fell between his eyes. Gently stroking the scar on his forehead as she did so. “I’d expect nothing less from a Gryffindor. You were very brave last night. Saving Sirius and coming between Remus and I.” He flushed, rosy cheeks painting his face. Y/n sighed, removing her glasses so Harry could see her gray eyes. “What I’m going to tell you is not a story for the faint of heart, Harry. Remus, Sirius, Snape, your father….” her sharp inhale lingered a moment. “Life did not treat us well. And we’re still dealing with the consequences.” 

By the end of the tragic story, Harry was at a loss for words. Disbelieved by the truth of Y/n’s origins of becoming a vampire. Initially he thought the group had stumbled upon a rogue one and it targeted her. No, it was deeper and more personal. 

Sirius tried pranking Snape during a full moon. Snape took the bait. His father and Y/n went to save Snape from being killed and Remus attacked her. Leaving her half-dead by the time they reached the infirmary. And Dumbledore made the life-changing decision to transform her into a vampire rather than let her die. 

Sentencing her to a life of eternity, feeding off the blood of humans and to watch her loved ones die while she remained. The same face of an eighteen-year-old girl walking the Earth forever. 

Harry’s heart shattered. 

“What now?” came the question minutes later. Wondering how Y/n managed to stay at Hogwarts, working for the man she clearly loathed by the way she talked about him. Still angry by his decision. “Why are you staying when Sirius is free? Don’t you want to get away from here?” 

‘Away from the painful memories?’ He wanted to add. 

All he got was a shrug and a small smile. “And leave you?” His chest burst with emotion. A statement so simple, but worth a thousand words. “You’re my Godson are you not? Other forces are a threat to you, Harry. And I will not let your parents down.” 

And she didn’t. 

Four years later after that fateful night and here the two were sitting on the edge of the half-destroyed Astronomy tower. Overlooking the river while a lone Phoenix flew across the sky. Embarking on the silence, honoring their loved ones. 

Unsure of what future laid ahead of them, but one thing was for sure. Life may not have treated them well, but the best they could do was move forward. Not let the deaths be for nothing. Make sure the peace withstood to prevent another war. 

The history books would go on to write about the Boy Who Lived and his Godmother, the Lone Vampire. Her name and face, however, are hidden from the public eye. And as the decades pass more and more of her friends join the souls lost in the castle. Leaving only those lucky enough to cross paths to have a glimpse in their memory.

For she would forever be a mystery, with the moon and stars as her companion.