New Year Magic ∼ Steve Harrington x Reader (One Shot)
As someone who often has a hard time during the Holidays, I quickly wrote this today to vent. Happy New Year, everyone.
Summary: You don't like New Year's and you don't really care to celebrate it with people, so you're home alone. Until an unexpected guest arrives and changes your mind about this holiday you dislike so much.
The streets were empty, and rightly so. It was the evening of December 31st, an evening you dreaded, every year.
You had never cared for New Years, but as time went by you felt your distaste for the Holiday growing stronger and stronger. The reason? You felt like the promise of a New Year that would make your life better was an empty one. A failure. At times, you thought something must be wrong with you. How could everyone celebrate and party while you felt so differently? So sad?
Sighing, you turned away from the living room window. Your parents had left an hour earlier, to celebrate with some friends, and they had tried dragging you out with them but you had pretended to be feeling sick so they would leave you alone. They just didn't understand you.
Your friends didn't seem to understand you, either. Except one.
Steve Harrington, whom you'd grown close to in the past year as you found yourself battling monsters and weird supernatural phenomena, hadn't tried to convince you to go to a party with him and other people you knew. He had seemed to accept that it just wasn't something that would make you happy.
And you knew it was for the best, because he would definitely be kissing someone as midnight came around - and your heart would be crushed. Because you liked him, a lot. You had tried so hard to keep from falling for him, but you hadn't been able to stop yourself, and now you were paying the price. Just because Steve was single at the moment, you knew it wouldn't last. Not after New Years Eve.
Whatever. He was too good for you anyway. You had to accept it and move on.
Even if it hurt like hell.
As you sat on the couch and grabbed a book absent-mindedly, you glanced at the clock. It was only 10 PM. Better start reading and forget about everything else.
Until someone rang the doorbell.
You considered ignoring whoever it was. Probably a friend of your parents', or some other annoying visitor. But they rang again, and again, and you finally discarded the book to go check.
You definitely weren't expecting him.
"Steve?" You gingerly opened the door, a smile making its way on your face as you noticed how handsome he looked in his long, black coat and matching scarf. "Wrong address, party's not here," you joked.
"Hey, Y/N. Are you alone?" he asked, glancing behind you.
"I am… my parents are out. What's up?"
"Can I come in?"
"Sure…" You didn't know what was going on, but you let him in. It was freezing outside, not snowing yet but the promise was in the air.
"Thanks. Well, I…" He paused, as if searching for the right words. "I brought some food. Actually, it's just chocolate, but I guess you already had dinner. I brought a bottle of wine, too. No, wait-" You had opened your mouth to speak, but he kept going. "I just can't be at some stupid party while you're home alone. I would rather spend time with someone I care about than a bunch of drunk idiots. I mean… if that's ok with you…"
His cheeks were flushed, you weren't sure if it was because of the cold or something else, but you felt yourself blush, too. "Steve… that is really thoughtful, but you don't have to spend New Years with me like a loser. I know you like parties, and-"
"I'm tired of all that, Y/N. I would rather watch some dumb movie and chill at home with you."
His gaze was so warm, and he looked amazing, and he smelled so nice.
You were a goner.
"Ok, then, if you're really sure… make yourself at home," you replied, grabbing his coat and gesturing for him to follow you into the living room. "I don't know if anything's on TV. I was reading."
After placing wine and chocolate on the coffee table, Steve sat on the couch and grabbed your book. "The Never ending story? Really? We just watched the movie," he grinned, looking up at you.
"Exactly, I want to know the real story. And everything that couldn't fit into the movie," you explained, throwing a pillow at him. He laughed and you felt your chest grow warmer. You didn't know why he had decided to show up, but you were happy. Truly happy.
--------------
It was almost midnight and there was only a tiny bit of wine left, that you guys had saved to welcome the New Year.
Both of you were currently laughing like hyenas at some comedy that was on TV.
"It's not even that funny, why… are we laughing so much?" you asked, trying to calm down. Steve had drunk a bit more than you, and he was completely gone. "Look at his face!" he replied, pointing to the actor.
You did, and started laughing again.
Till Steve noticed it was five minutes left till midnight.
"Alright! Let's finish this wine and… and say what our hopes are for the New Year," he exclaimed, pouring the little wine left. "You first!"
"Oh, I hate this. Every year's the same, anyway, people making promises they won't keep and wishing for things that won't happen and-"
"Hey, Miss Optimism, I'll have you know that this year is going to be different!" Steve raised his glass to yours. "Just say one thing you wish for. Then I'll go next."
"Fine!" You sighed, feeling cornered. "Hum… I wish for world peace."
"Come onnn! I'm talking about something you wish for yourself!" Steve insisted, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You instantly felt your cheeks grow hot, partly because of the wine and partly because of him.
And then, because of the state you were in, you were dumb enough to say it out loud. "I wish… the guy I like would like me back," you muttered, downing the rest of the wine.
Steve stared at you for what felt like forever, before nodding. "Same. Same for me! I mean… the girl I like, in my case, not a guy…" he drank what was left in his glass, before turning back to you. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he added, eyes dangerously glassy.
"I don't think it's a good idea…" You might be tipsy, but not drunk. And you knew there was no coming back from admitting to him that you liked him. A lot.
Steve was too out of it to listen to you, however. "It's just the two of us, come on! On a count of 3…"
"Steve, no, I don't-"
"2-"
"Stop it, Steve-"
"1-"
"IT'S YOU!" You both shouted simultaneously, and your face fell. What? It must be some joke in poor taste, right? How could Steve like you?
But he was staring at you so lovingly that it couldn't be a joke. He couldn't be that good of an actor, he just couldn't-
"Oh my God, you finally told me you're desperately in love with me!" he exclaimed, raising one fist triumphantly. "Yessss!"
"What… I…" you were stunned. You couldn't process everything that had happened so fast. "I just-"
"Ssssh! Come here!"
Steve dragged you to your feet, so you were standing in front of him, and cupped your face between his warm, large hands.
"It's one minute left till midnight, Y/N. This year, I want to spend it with you. Be with you, all the time, and never let you go."
Still incredulous, you tried to ask if he meant it, but he cut you off.
With a kiss.
The kiss.
As you wrapped your arms around him and got lost in your dream world, you only barely registered the turn of the New Year.
Finally, you were happy.
The Vampire and the Hunter - Harry Styles AU (Part 4)
Tagging @honeymoonluvv (let me know if anyone else would like to be added to the list!)
I hope everyone's enjoying the story so far!
Darkness was everywhere and time seemed to stand still. It was such a weird sensation… you were waiting, even if you didn’t know who you were supposed to be waiting for exactly.
“Good evening, love.”
Someone suddenly materialised in front of you. It was a boy, despite the dark you could see him perfectly, make out every single feature of his. He looked like he was in his early twenties, he had jet black hair, warm, captivating brown eyes, long eyelashes, and his olive complexion was flawless, much like Harry’s. But, even if there was no denying he was handsome, this guy’s looks were completely different from Harry’s.
“Who are you?” you whispered. You couldn’t relax around some stranger. He didn’t look like a vampire, but it was hard to recognise them when they weren’t showing off their fangs or their red eyes.
He smiled. Even his smile was mesmerising. “I have no name, my kind doesn’t need any. But to make it easier for your limited human mind, I chose to call myself Zayn when communicating with you.”
You glared at his not so subtle insult. “I’ll change my question then. What are you?”
He kept walking in circles beside you, never getting too close, not that you would let him. You kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “It’s not easy to explain what my kind is precisely, but on earth I believe you call us… fallen angels.”
You blinked. This must be a joke. You knew about vampires, sure, and you’d been told the Supernatural realm was much more complicated than that, but fallen angels? Seriously?
“I know it’s difficult to believe, but trust me, I’m real. We’re real. However, I won’t be bothering you for long this time…” he grinned. “I only wanted to introduce myself, so that when we finally meet in the flesh you already know who I am and we will be able to get down to business.”
You wanted to reply, but found yourself frozen on the spot, incapable of speaking.
“In the meantime, try not to get too close to that vampire, Harry.” Zayn added, moving closer. He lifted his hand and touched your cheek. You still couldn’t move. “See you soon, love.” He smiled, showing his perfect teeth, and disappeared.
You jolted awake, your heart racing. What the hell was that? You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down. That dream had been so real… but it surely must be only a dream, you had never heard about fallen angels before and there was no way one of them would show up like that before meeting you in the real world. And that warning about Harry… you’d probably been feeling guilty because you hadn’t mentioned to anyone about him yet and your brain must have created that dream in order to cope. Yes. Definitely.
You lay down again, but couldn’t get to sleep for the longest time.
--------
“Y/N?”
You quickly hid a book in your bag, just in time not to get caught. “Mr. Walsh! Good morning!”
“Good morning to you too. You usually don’t come here so early in the morning, is everything alright?”
Mr. Walsh was one of your mentors, the one you’d first been approached by when you moved to London, the one who told you about vampires, about your fate as a hunter and also the one you currently got along best with.
He was a tall, lean man with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes, about 40 years old. You knew he was a researcher, but you had no idea what he researched exactly for a living. Surely demons and vampires couldn’t be on the list.
“Yes, I’m fine… I have to go to college soon, so I thought I’d come early…”
Your mentors and people who united to fight the supernatural were all part of one big organisation, you never bothered learning about it because you rarely went to their headquarters, they were located in a huge old building near Buckingham Palace. It was kind of comical.
That day, though, you’d only gone because you planned on looking for one book or more that contained details about the Fair race, the one Harry belonged to. You needed to know more about him. If you were lucky you’d find information about their lineage in the book you’d just snatched and hid in your bag. Thank God Mr. Walsh hadn’t noticed.
“I’m glad to know. Could I talk to you, just for a couple of minutes?”
You nodded and went to sit with him at a table nearby. “Yes?”
“I don’t mean to pry, but are you sure you’re okay? Lately you’ve been distant, is there something that has you upset?”
You shook your head and put on your best smile. “No. I’m great. I’m just tired, you know, college, hunter duties, trying to have a social life in my spare time…” you lamely joked.
Mr. Walsh sighed. “I know it’s difficult. Please, don’t push yourself too hard. From what I’ve heard there has been a lack of… vampire activity… in the city, lately, so I believe you can stop going out every night to patrol. Twice a week will be enough.”
Your eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Of course. But I’m afraid I have some bad news.” You braced yourself. “You’re going to the gym twice a week to take taekwondo lessons, aren’t you?”
You nodded.
“In order to improve your fighting techniques and be safe, after much consideration, Mr. Harrison and I decided to sign you up for aikido classes as well.”
“What? But Mr. Walsh! I won’t have time to attend those as well-“
“It’s just once a week. If you go patrolling twice a week, you’ll have no problem to fit everything into your schedule. It won’t be for a long time, just for a while, it’s for your safety, Y/N. We don’t want you to get hurt.” he assured you, trying to look enthusiastic.
“I have no choice, do I?” You sighed.
Your life sucked.
-------------
It was ten in the evening and you were exhausted.
That day, after classes were over, you’d immediately headed to the gym for taekwondo and after two hours and a refreshing shower you couldn’t wait to get home. You hadn’t even had the time to start reading the book about the Fair race yet and you doubted you would be able to start that night, you’d probably fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.
You turned a corner and almost bumped into someone.
“Harry! What are you doing here?”
“I… was waiting for you outside the gym. Last night you told me you take martial arts classes, remember?”
You suddenly felt a lot better. “Yes. I didn’t expect to meet you so soon, after…” After you kissed me senseless yesterday.
Harry’s green eyes held a different glow. He seemed happy, but he was his usual calm, controlled self. “I wanted to see you. I’m sorry, I should have asked you in advance if we could meet… you must be very tired, perhaps I should leave-”
“Wait!” you stopped him, smiling. “Even if we met last night… I wanted to see you, too. Do you feel like walking? We can talk…” You were so happy he was there with you that you didn’t even feel all that tired anymore.
“Sure.” he picked up your gym bag. “This is heavy, I’ll carry it. You’re tired, aren’t you?”
You thanked him. It really wasn’t that heavy, but you had a few books in there. “I’m a bit tired, school today was fine, but then taekwondo class was rough… anyway… I’m happy to see you.” You suddenly stopped walking. You didn’t want to get home and say goodbye to Harry just yet.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Harry, I… I’m really glad you came to see me, but I want to spend more time with you.” You didn’t care if you sounded selfish or childish, you really needed to spend time with him, not just take a short walk together.
“I know a nice place.”
-----------
Half an hour later, you two were sitting in a cozy café which you had never been to before. It was open all night, therefore Harry knew about it. You guessed there were only so many nice places a vampire could spend time at during the wee hours of the night.
“Here you are, your hot chocolates.”
A nice waitress brought your orders and, as soon as she’d left, you curiously stared at Harry’s chocolate and asked something you’d been wondering about. “You don’t need to eat and drink regular food, do you? Can you still feel the taste? Doesn’t your body react in weird ways if you eat or drink?”
Harry was amused by your curiosity and smiled. “I can eat and drink if I want to, but I normally never eat solid food. It has no appeal and I can hardly taste it. Hot drinks like coffee, milk, tea and chocolate, however…” he paused. “I’m not sure why, but I love them. I enjoy the warm sensation. I hate cold or cool drinks.”
You were taken aback by all that information. “Oh… I had no idea. I thought that time, when we had coffee together, you only did it to humour me.”
Harry asked you about your day and you told him, including the bit about the additional martial art class you had to take. As you sat there, chatting, you suddenly remembered your dream. “Harry… do you think there’s such a thing as fallen angels?” you blurted out.
He looked at you perplexed. “I’ve never met one or heard about people who did, but stranger things have happened. I wouldn’t be surprised if they existed. Why?”
You didn’t know if you should tell him. In the end, feeling stupid for overthinking what had obviously been just a dream, you smiled. “Nothing, just a random thought…”
Harry didn’t look convinced but he didn’t insist. “Y/N… have you told your mentors about me?”
You weren’t expecting that question, but immediately shook your head. “No… there’s no need to.” you lied.
“No need to? I am a vampire. I’m sure they wouldn’t be pleased.”
Harry was right, but you didn’t want to think about the matter. Your life was hard enough, you needed to do something only for yourself, you needed to have some freedom! You couldn’t be 100% responsible all the time! You didn’t want to tell Harry that, though. He’d think you were a brat. “Harry, you… can feel affection, can’t you?”
“Of course.”
“And you wouldn’t hurt a fly, so what’s the matter with us… hanging out together?”
Harry didn’t reply at first. He stared at you for a long time, before taking your hand and gently squeezing it. “I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”
Harry was kind, you couldn’t imagine him being a menace to anyone. You wouldn’t tell your mentors about him. How would they find out, anyway?
You two stayed out until two in the morning, you didn’t want to part from him and, as he walked you home, you enjoyed the feeling of his warm arm wrapped around your shoulders, his scent penetrating your nostrils…
“Harry… I’m going patrolling tomorrow night, at Highgate Cemetery. Will you come?” you softly asked him.
He nodded and leant down to kiss you, holding you tight. His kisses were intoxicating, you kept wishing for more and more…
“Aww, you didn’t listen to my advice after all.”
You parted from Harry at the sound of someone’s husky voice and your eyes widened when you saw a man’s silhouette nearby.
“Hello, love. How are you?” he grinned, as Harry protectively moved to stand in front of you. The man was Zayn.
The Vampire and the Hunter - Harry Styles AU (Part 3)
Part 1
Part 2
Three days. You sighed, staring blankly into space. If only time could go by faster…
“Y/N, are you alright?”
Your best friend and roommate, Jill, gently placed a cup of tea in front of you. You didn’t notice. She called your name again, louder. “Excuse me?” you suddenly realised she had been trying to get your attention for a few minutes.
Jill rolled her eyes and laughed. “Who are you thinking about, huh? I know there’s someone you fancy, you’ve been acting so weird. Who is it?”
You smiled and took a sip of your tea, feeling instantly warmer. “His name is Harry… he’s a few years older than us…” Technically, you weren’t lying. He did mention he’d been turned into a vampire when he was 22, and you and Jill were both 19. “I don’t know him that well, but I’m supposed to go out with him tonight…”
Jill cheered and sat beside you on the sofa, grabbing a pillow and crossing her legs. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! You have to tell me everything about the date tomorrow! What does Harry do? Is he in college?”
She started firing question after question and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know for sure, I think he might be, but he’s not originally from London.” That, at least, was the truth. Harry’s accent didn’t resemble the typical Londoner’s, though you didn’t know where he came from exactly. It was just one of the many things you longed to ask him.
When you’d parted with Harry a few days before you’d agreed to meet that night, not in a park or a cemetery though. You would meet at Westminster and have a walk around the area, one of your favourite bits of the city. You wanted to get to know Harry, you knew basically nothing about him…
and, since you weren’t going hunting, you could actually afford to dress a little less practical and a bit cuter for once. You asked Jill for advice and you eventually ended up wearing dark grey skinny jeans, a tight black shirt and a cute dark red jacket. You never wore too much make up, just the right amount, but this time you ended up carefully applying eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara, creating a smokey eye effect, then you put on some foundation to even the skin tone and finally coral red lipstick. You were ready and tried to ignore Jill’s smooching sounds as you put on your boots and left.
When you reached Westminster you looked around, but didn’t spot Harry. Maybe you were early…
“Hello.”
A deep, husky voice made you turn around. Harry was standing there, holding a single red rose, smiling. Your heartbeat increased at once and you blushed slightly as you gladly accepted the flower, thanking him. “How are you?” you asked, feeling a bit stupid because of the corny question.
“I’m well. What about you?”
Clad in his black, elegant coat, eyes tender and fixated on you, a small smile curling his lips, Harry looked absolutely flawless.
“Me too…”
You might have been a vampire hunter, but you were also a nineteen year old girl who could be very shy at times and right then was one of those occasions. After finding out Harry cared about you as well, after agreeing to meet on a proper date, you didn’t know what to talk about, how to act. Harry wasn’t a regular guy and you still couldn’t believe you’d got yourself in such a mess, attracted by a vampire. Thank goodness your mentors had no idea about it, nor your best friends.
“You look lovely tonight.” Harry whispered, his deep voice giving you goosebumps. He smiled again. “Would you like to go for a walk?”
You nodded and the two of you headed towards Tower Bridge, both of you silent, stealing glances at each other. Harry struck you as the silent type and you didn’t want things to get awkward between you two, you felt like you had to initiate a conversation.
“Harry… I don’t know much about you…”
He nodded, as serious as ever. “What would you like to know?”
You hesitated, before posing one of the questions you were most curious about. “You told me you were 22 when you… were turned. What year was that?”
He kept silent at first, gazing at the night sky, before looking at you again. “It was exactly one century ago, in 1914. World War 1 had just started. So I guess you could say I’m 122 years old, given that was my age when it happened.”
You were taken aback. You weren’t sure of the average vampire age - if there even was such a thing- and Harry becoming a vampire during the War… was there a connection? “Oh…” you didn’t want to ask. What if something painful had happened then? Stupid, whatever happened was painful for sure, his whole life changed! you silently reprimanded yourself.
“When you met me did you think I was older, or younger?”
“Well, I couldn’t really guess your age…” you observed him. He looked his age, but if one didn’t know one could guess Harry was between 20 and 26 years old. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?”
“Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.” So he had a Cheshire accent. You had never been to that part of England. “I’ve travelled a lot, but that’s my home town. It used to be very small, so unlike London, I doubt you have heard of it. Though I don’t know what it’s like now… last time I went there was probably thirty years ago.”
You weren’t even born back then. Feeling a bit weirded out you nodded. “Where have you lived?”
“Lots of countries. Italy, France, Ireland… the US… Singapore… Japan…” he paused, studying the look on your face. “Surprised? When you have so much time you find yourself wanting to explore new places.”
You couldn’t even imagine living in so many different countries, having all the time in the world. “I’ve only travelled a bit around Europe, but… I think it would be lovely to be able to go everywhere…”
Harry stopped walking, leaning against the railing of Tower Bridge. He stared at the Thames, silent. In the moonlight he looked breathtaking and you couldn’t take your eyes off him, so many questions running through your mind. You wanted to know more about him, but you didn’t know how to ask personal questions without possibly hurting him. And you were scared of finding out something bad, something painful.
You got closer and decided to settle for something simple. “When did you come back to London?”
“Ten years ago. Before that, I’d only been in London a couple of times, but I’d never lived here. I like it very much.” He smiled and glanced at you. “Where are you from?”
“Canterbury.” you replied in a whisper. You were still trying to come to terms with your attraction to Harry and everything he was telling you. “It’s only a couple of hours by train, my family lives there. I moved here last year for college, and…” you bit your lip. Shortly after moving to London you’d found out about vampires, about your destiny as a hunter, about all the Supernatural things. It had been a rough year.
“Canterbury is a lovely town.” A gentle breeze was blowing, messing your hair a bit, and Harry delicately tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Contrary to any possible expectation concerning vampires, he had the softest touch, he was very graceful. “I’ve been there a few times. I love the Cathedral.”
You looked at him, perplexed. “You… can go inside?”
Harry smiled and shook his head. “I can’t. But I visited once, when I was still human. I vividly remember it, everything inside was stunning.”
Your mentors had taught you the basics at first and kept teaching you more and more, there was still much you needed to learn, but what you knew for sure about vampires was: they avoided going outside during the day, they wouldn’t go unless it was cloudy or rainy and when they did they were weaker, slower. They could only be killed by beheading them, burning them to the core or piercing their heart with a wooden stake. They couldn’t go inside churches, get near crosses or holy water… you supposed even if Harry belonged to a specific, “kinder” race, it made no difference and gave him no privileges in that sense.
“It hasn’t been easy for you.” Harry suddenly said, looking at the horizon, again. “Maybe I shouldn’t have revealed myself, but that night… I had to help you.”
“I am glad you did.” you assured him, taking his hand, gently squeezing it. “I know almost nothing about you and you barely know anything about me… but…” you didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want to give in and say it out loud. If you did, you wouldn’t be able to take it back and everything would feel even more real.
You let go of Harry’s hand and sighed. “I must be out of my mind. I don’t even know your full name.”
“Harold Edward Styles.” he immediately told you, smiling slightly. “I know it’s a bit old fashioned, but I was born in 1892, after all.”
“It’s a lovely name.” Harry could probably have given you any other name and you’d still believe that, since you fancied him so much. “I… sorry, this is very personal, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to… do you still have any relatives left?”
Harry shook his head. “Not that I know of. Because of the War… well, I had an older brother, but he passed away then. I also had an older sister…” his gaze became distant, but only for a moment. “She also passed away. She had only been married for a short time when she died, she was very young. Of course, my parents, my uncles and aunts, everybody passed away in time.”
You had no idea how to reply. It was only natural that Harry’s closest family members would have passed away decades before, but it was still sad. You’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, he still had distant relatives left, but even so… he couldn’t exactly tell them who he was, could he?
“Do you have a big family?” Harry asked you, changing topic.
You two chatted for a while, you told him about your parents and that you had a younger sister who still lived with them in Canterbury. You walked and walked, the conversation got more relaxed and you both had the opportunity to learn more about each other.
~~~~
“I had fun with you, Harry…”
This time you hadn’t really minded about him walking home with you, mostly because you didn’t want to part from him. It was only midnight, not exactly late for Harry, but you had to get up early in the morning. Still, it was hard to say goodbye.
“I had fun, too. Y/N…” he gingerly leaned closer, then stepped back. “Sorry.”
You had believed, for one wild second, that he would kiss you, sweep you off your feet. But when Harry hesitated you were reminded, for the nth time, that you two couldn’t afford the luxury of giving in to your feelings, ignoring any rational behaviour.
Harry was a vampire, he couldn’t enter your place unless you invited him first. You always felt safe at home because of that, you knew no vampires could get in. But… “I won’t ask you to come in, not this time.” you whispered, getting closer to him. “I think nothing bad will happen if we just…” you didn’t finish your sentence. Both you and Harry moved at the same time and pressed your lips together.
The kiss was nothing like anything you’d experienced before. It was sweet and gentle at first, then it gradually started becoming passionate and needy. You only pulled away because you needed to breathe and when you did you noticed Harry’s green eyes had got a bit darker. “Are you okay?”
“Yes…”
Harry pulled you against him and kissed you again. His lips were soft, his tongue warm, his scent enticing. You could feel the temperature rise as you two exchanged kisses, your body heating up, your mind going blank.
The Vampire and the Hunter - Harry Styles AU (Part 2)
Part 1
You were quite grumpy. A week had gone by and, again, you hadn’t seen Harry, after that fateful night when the two of you went for coffee and chatted for a while. It was crystal clear to you that you were attracted to him, very much, but you weren’t sure if the same could be said for him. He’d told you that you were beautiful, but could he even feel attracted to a human girl?
You wanted to meet him, but of course you had no way to contact him except for patrolling the usual places you’d bumped into him before.
That night, as you walked through Regent’s Park, you were feeling extremely annoyed. Your best friend, one of the very few people who knew about you being a vampire hunter, had also noticed your bad mood but you hadn’t told her the reason. She would think you were nuts for getting involved with one of them. And she had also tried to convince you to go on a double date with her, her boyfriend and a friend of his.
No way you were going to. You wanted to see Harry, you wanted to speak to him again!
“Hey, pretty girl!”
You turned and scoffed. A guy with long fangs and almost white eyes was inching closer to you. “I’m in a bad mood and you happen to be in the way!” you shouted, engaging in a short fight with him, before finally killing him with a stake. He collapsed on the ground and started withering, slowly. You knew by dawn his body would be gone.
“Harry was right, you’re good.”
You froze and looked at the spot where the voice was coming from, ready to attack. A guy who looked in his early 20s came forward, smirking. He was taller than you but not as tall as Harry, he had short brown hair, blue eyes and a very slim face. Before you could make a move he came closer but still kept himself out of your reach and politely bowed. “My name’s Louis. Lay off, I won’t hurt you.” he assured you, still slightly grinning. You didn’t lower your guard. When he had smiled he had showed his fangs, he was a vampire, too.
“I don’t have time to play, Louis.” you retorted, trying to assess him. If he was a vampire and a friend of Harry’s, maybe he belonged to the Fair race as well? Or was he trying to trick you?
“I don’t want to play with you.” He kept walking in circles around you. You had the feeling he was studying you just as much as you were studying him. “I just wanted to meet you. I’ve heard about you for a while, but I didn’t know London’s new hunter was so young and pretty.”
You didn’t acknowledge his compliment.
“But I want to check how much you’re worth.” he added. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was standing behind you, ready to attack. You turned around just in time to block him and started throwing punch after punch, but he dodged every single one of them. He was fast, probably the fastest vampire you’d ever met so far, and he almost seemed able to read your mind. His piercing gaze was unsettling.
You got distracted and ended up flying on the ground after he’d hit you. Luckily you didn’t hit your head and immediately got up again, ready to fight with Louis. You really wanted to know what his relation to Harry was, but there was no time to talk and you were sure he would lie to you anyway.
Louis’ face had changed, turned into the one of a thirsty vampire. His long, sharp fangs were visible, his eyes were bloodshot red and his face contorted in a mask of anger but he didn’t scare you. You’d got used to vampires and you didn’t find them intimidating anymore.
You were able to get close enough to hit his head and he seemed to suffer the blow. He doubled over for a second and you got ready to finish him -
“STOP!”
Harry jumped between the two of you, raising his hand. “Y/N, don’t! Don’t kill him!”
You stared uncertainly at him, but lowered your arm. You didn’t know what was going on, but you knew Harry wouldn’t hurt you. Still, you didn’t lower your guard as you kept your eyes fixated on Louis. He seemed fine and was glaring at you. Then, he laughed and patted Harry on the back.
You frowned. “What…”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wanted to test your abilities.” Louis explained, smiling. “Like I said, I’ve heard about you and I wanted to see for myself if you were really that good of a hunter. I guess they were right, one should be careful around you.”
You still didn’t understand. Unlike Louis, Harry was serious when he finally spoke. “My fault, I shouldn’t have mentioned you to him. I’m sorry, Y/N. Are you alright? Did you get injured?”
“I am fine. So you are… friends?”
“I guess you could say that. Please, don’t worry about me. Like Harry here, I’m of the Fair race. You don’t need to get rid of me.” You could tell he was trying to win you over with his charming smile and vampire pheromones and he was definitely good looking, but you could never fall for that trick. Besides, Harry was so, so much more attractive. You looked at him for confirmation of Louis’ words and he nodded, still not smiling. “He’s not lying.” he muttered, looking quite displeased. You weren’t sure why.
“I know it’s hard but if you trust Harry you can trust me as well.”
“Why should I?” you replied, feeling annoyed. Harry was one thing, but this vampire here - it was a completely different matter.
Louis noticed your irritation and decided it was time to go. “I shall leave you two alone. See you around, darling.” he winked before disappearing in the blink of an eye.
It was hard to read Harry’s emotions, being a vampire and all that, but you guessed he wasn’t feeling at ease when he spoke. “I’m sorry about that. Are you really fine?” he asked, intently checking on you with his piercing gaze. You nodded. “Harry, you… talked about me? Why?” That was what interested you the most. Did Harry really care about you, to an extent?
“I… shouldn’t have.”
You waited. You wanted him to explain, but he didn’t seem willing. You were feeling frustrated, why was he acting like that? “Fine. I’ll just go home, I’m done patrolling tonight.” you replied, turning on your heel. Harry didn’t stop you and you headed home.
Twenty minutes later, you stopped walking and turned. Harry was following you, he tried ducking behind a garbage bin but you had already noticed him. “What do you want?” you spat, quite annoyed. He wasn’t willing to speak to you but he dared follow you around?!
Harry hesitated before reaching you. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“I don’t want you to know where I live and I can take care of myself. Next time don’t tell your mates about me, unless you wish me harm.”
You weren’t angry, more like disappointed, but the words had automatically spilled out of your mouth. It was late, you were tired and you wanted to get home and curl up in bed. You didn’t understand Harry at all - men were already complicated enough, but vampires…
“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t tell Louis about you. He followed me once, when I met up with you… then he wanted to know who you were. I told him to leave you alone, but he never listens to me. He’s older, and…” he stopped talking, as if he wanted to add more but couldn’t, or didn’t want to.
In face of Harry’s revelation you felt a bit more sympathetic. Maybe you’d misjudged him. And you wondered what Harry meant for older. How much longer than him had Louis been around? How long had Harry been around exactly? You had no clue.
“I don’t need to see where you live. Just let me be with you for a little bit longer.”
God, that voice. The more you tried to convince yourself you and Harry weren’t meant to be, the more you longed for him. You felt such a strong attraction to him, it was hard to keep yourself from getting closer, from touching his face, from holding him tight-
“Okay.” you softly said. “Let’s walk for a little bit longer then.”
Harry nodded and smiled a bit. He seemed more relaxed as you strolled together down the street, which wasn’t empty yet but, to you, it felt like it was just you and Harry. “Can I ask you something? How old were you when you…”
Harry seemed to realise at once what you meant to ask him and cut you off. “I was 22.”
You wanted to ask more, but you didn’t. Instead, you told him your age. “I’m 19.”
He smiled and nodded. “I could tell.”
“What, can you read minds?” you joked. You knew vampires could feel people’s emotions quite well, but your mentors had never mentioned the existence of mind-reading vampires.
“No, but I can enter people’s dreams.”
Your eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “I’m serious. I can, but it doesn’t work with everyone. It depends on the strength of that person’s will. In your case, I suppose it would be hard to penetrate your mind. So, if you dream of me, remember it’s not my doing.” he joked.
“Why would I dream of you?” you teased him. Harry’s face fell when you said that, but he quickly composed himself. “You’re right. Well… you live nearby, don’t you? I guess I should go.”
He didn’t say goodbye but turned to leave, and right then you knew you didn’t want him to. You couldn’t stop yourself and moved, hugging him from behind, holding him tight. Harry smelled good, like vanilla, and contrary to your expectations he was warm, even warmer than you. You felt him tense as you held him and he didn’t move for what seemed like the longest time, then, finally, he turned around and hugged you. He was tall, your head could conveniently rest on his shoulder and you pressed yourself further against him, wanting to feel him, to inhale his scent.
When you finally looked up and let go Harry was smiling, the brightest smile you’d ever seen. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”
“I was never mad at you.”
“You are cold.” Harry enveloped you in another hug. “Can I hold you for a while?”
London was always beautiful, even more so at night.
You were walking through Hyde Park, carefully taking in your surroundings. Normally you wouldn’t go wandering around that area at one in the morning, despite the gates being closed (and you having to trespass to get in) there tended to be quite a few sketchy people in there and sometimes human beings did scare you more than supernatural beings.
You sighed and kept walking as you looked for someone, the reason you were currently there. You did not dare call his name, if he were around he’d probably hear you but you didn’t want to draw attention to him. You knew he could take care of himself way better than 99% of people you knew, but you would never risk endangering him. You cared too much.
“Don’t you know it’s dangerous for a beautiful girl like you to go walking round here all alone?”
You felt a hand on your shoulder and tensed, before quickly relaxing again. You turned and gave the person a glare. “I was looking for you!”
The young man standing in front of you smiled. His green eyes were always able to enchant you, but you couldn’t afford to lose your cool. It was hard, with someone as attractive as he was near you - not just because of his looks, it was almost as if he emanated a mysterious substance capable of luring everyone in, no matter their sex or their age. His messy, curly hair was long, and every now and then he would run a hand through it, seemingly annoyed. You couldn’t blame him, he had had the same hair style for a long time, even if he’d wished to cut it the hair would simply grow back at once like nothing happened. His flawless, spotless skin wasn’t as pale as the one most of his kin had and his lips were naturally pink, as if he was wearing lipstick. But you knew it wasn’t the case.
“I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
You were taken aback by his words. Of course you wanted to see him, you wanted to see him so badly! It was hard to lie to yourself, you had been trying but it wasn’t working.
“Can we go somewhere else?” you whispered, gesturing to a few guys laying near bushes. They weren’t dangerous, they were homeless people who had nowhere to go, but you didn’t feel at ease. Also, you didn’t want to stay there with him in case the ones you were worried about did show up and tried to hurt him, along with you.
He nodded and followed you down the path, till you reached the gates and quickly climbed over them to get out. A guy walking nearby gave you a funny look, probably wondering what the hell you two were doing getting out of Hyde Park at such a late time. You ignored him and turned to the guy standing beside you. He was waiting for your lead and despite the slight smile on his face his eyes looked so sad… you wanted to hug him so badly, you wanted to tell him everything would be alright, but you couldn’t.
“Harry…”
It felt strange to be on first name terms with him. Harry was everything you were supposed to hate and fear, but you couldn’t. Because he wasn’t like the vast majority of them.
“You look cold. There’s a coffee shop which stays open all night just down the street, want to go there?”
You knew he didn’t feel the cold weather. You knew he could drink and eat but he didn’t care for the taste anymore. It was nice of him to care a little about you, though. “That would be lovely. I am a bit cold.” you admitted, lying. You weren’t just a bit cold, you were starting to freeze. Your fault for not wearing a warmer jacket, but the previous nights hadn’t been so cold, so you thought you would be okay.
Harry reached for his coat but then stopped. You pretended not to notice, but wondered if he had meant to give you his jacket and stopped fearing you would reject it and be rude to him for offering.
Half an hour later you two were sitting in a corner of the intimate coffee shop, which, like Harry had mentioned, was open all night but sported no other customers there at the moment. You put your hands around your warm cup, enjoying the feeling. Now that you were inside a well-lit place you could see every detail of Harry’s face and it almost made you blush. How can he look so gorgeous?
“So… like I said, I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
“Why? Because you saved my life last week? Yeah, I just hate chivalrous lads.” you sarcastically said, before taking a sip of your latte. “Harry… if I had known about you from the beginning-“
“I know. You would have tried to kill me. Don’t worry, I don’t feel offended, it’s only natural. I’m a monster and you’re a hunter, so…”
“Don’t say that!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. You didn’t want to hear him speak like that about himself. He wasn’t evil, he wouldn’t harm a fly and you knew it.
Harry smiled sadly, lowering his gaze on his cup. Maybe he couldn’t appreciate the taste that much anymore, but he sure seemed to love coffee. He’d drunk almost all of it at once.
You fell silent as well. You wanted to talk, but you were scared. Harry would try to push away, you knew he would. And, as much as you knew it was the right thing on both your parts, you simply didn’t want him to.
“You’re so beautiful.”
You looked up. Had he really said that? You silently questioned him with your uncertain gaze.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s… out of line. I just can’t stop myself from thinking that. I’ve met quite a few vampire hunters, but nobody was half as beautiful as you.” Harry’s deep, masculine voice was firm and you could tell he wasn’t making fun of you or lying. He truly thought that. You blushed. “Well, thanks. You’re quite the gentleman, can’t say I’ve met lots like you, not even the ones who’re alive.” you tried to joke, but felt bad for reminding him he wasn’t a living human being anymore.
But Harry just laughed. A throaty, genuine laugh that reached his eyes. “Boys these days are no gentlemen, that’s for sure. Back in my day…” he stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind. Look, (Y/N)…”
“I know what you want to say, don’t.” you bit your lip. “I still haven’t properly thanked you for helping me. I was in a tight spot there…”
You thought about the week before, when four vampires had tried ganging up on you. Normally you were a great fighter, there was a reason you were the chosen one, but that night you’d been totally unprepared. You’d carelessly gone out to hunt despite your fever, thinking you were fine, but fighting had been harder than usual, much harder, and you hadn’t been able to fend off all those vampires on your own.
Harry had rescued you, even helped you kill them. If it hadn’t been for him… You hadn’t recognised him for what he really was, at first. You’d met him again and again the following nights, he’d only told you that although he was no hunter he knew about the existence of vampires and wanted to get rid of them just as much as you. But the last night you’d met him one vampire that managed to escape the two of you had given him away, yelling at him that he would have his head for helping you despite being a vampire himself.
You’d been shocked, to say the least. Harry had run away and you hadn’t seen him anymore for the past week. You’d felt so cheated, but had eventually came to understand. Your mentors, the ones who taught you and helped you, had mentioned about a “good kind” of vampires before, but they said there were hardly any of them left, since they descended from an ancient race that had mostly disappeared. You didn’t think you’d meet one of them in London, but you had. Harry was definitely one of them.
You hadn’t told your mentors. You meant no harm to Harry. Maybe you were being irresponsible, but you felt like you could trust him.
“Harry, why did you show up tonight?” you suddenly asked. You’d been looking for him for a week, every night, but you’d never found him in the usual spots you hung out in.
“Maybe I wanted to see you.”
You felt happy at this revelation. You knew you shouldn’t. “I wanted to see you too…” you admitted, holding your cup as strong as you could, almost as if you were trying to shatter it. “I’ve done some research. You descend from the Fair race, don’t you?”
Harry seemed taken aback, but smiled. “I do. You know about me?”
“Only a bit… I know you’re not dangerous. I know you’re not like the rest.” you stated, observing his right arm. He’d taken off his coat and you could see the tattoos on his skin. He had so many of them.
“You’re wrong. I can be lethal.”
You smiled, the first real smile you’d shown him that night. “You can be, but you’re not unless threatened.”
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
Harry looked worried. Maybe he was afraid you had bad news.
“I… wanted to thank you for saving my life the first time we met. And then… since I found out about your secret and you disappeared… I just really wanted to see you again.” you paused. “I don’t want you gone.” you added in a whisper, staring into Harry’s beautiful eyes.
You knew things were going to get messy between you two, but you didn’t care.
I posted this story before on a different account which I deleted (years ago!), but I came across it on my laptop and thought I would repost it because I felt nostalgic and I actually quite like it.
Let me know what you think! I’ve got the next chapters already written so I will update quickly!
“Man, what a prick,” Dean growled, shaking his head. You’d just finished recounting what your ex had done to you—the cheating, the lying, the betrayal, his rage and manipulation…
“Yeah, it was—not great,” you followed up with a dry laugh, spinning your beer bottle in your hands. The two of you were leaning on the Impala out in the hotel room parking lot. Sam was probably asleep inside already. “But it was a while ago, you know?” You shrugged.
“What happened to him?” Dean asked. You gave him a questioning look. “Well, guy like that, something bad should happen to him,” he said matter-of-factly, flashing you a boyish half-smile.
You let out a surprised laugh. “I have no idea,” you admitted.
“Well…” Dean picked at the label on his beer. “I could be something bad. I could happen to him… if you want,” he joked. “I mean it, guy treating you that way deserves to take a hit to the jaw.”
You looked at him like he was nuts. You could tell he was joking, but maybe not completely. “No,” you laughed. “It’s fine. Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
“Well, I’m just saying—murder is an option, you know…” he took a swig from his beer and you let out another laugh.
“Seems like a bit much,” you said, smiling.
“For you? It’s really not. We’re hunters. We could track him no problem!”
“Dean,” you said. “Stop.”
“Alright, alright,” he laughed. “I just wanted you to know…”
Dean sighed and drummed his hands on the steering wheel. Finally, he looked over at you in the passenger seat. "Guess we have about... four hours to kill," he said.
"Mhm," you hummed, still staring ahead at the dark building up the block.
"Sooooo... wanna mess around?"
That snapped your eyes over to his face. The boyish grin you found almost irresistible was there. "You really think that's a good idea on a stakeout," you laughed. "What if they show up early?"
"It'll be fine!" he insisted. "We can keep our eyes on the place periodically and just—two hands... other places." He flashed you a pleading smile.
"Uh huh," you said skeptically. "We both know you can't control yourself. You'd be fully invested as soon as I started kissing your neck."
"I can control myself! What about this morning?"
You gave him a puzzled look. "What about this morning?"
"You came out of the bathroom after your shower in just a towel and I kept my hands completely to myself! Do you have any idea how difficult that was for me?"
You affected a dramatic pout and clasped his face. "Ohhhh, you poor babe. How did you survive?"
He let out a couple gruff laughs. "It was touch and go for a while, honestly."
warnings: flirty!dean is a warning
"Hey—the hell is the deal with this cabinet? It won't open? Is it locked or something?" He was tugging hard on the pulls but the doors wouldn't budge. "I don't even see a damn keyhole..."
"Oh, that's the one I was telling you about the other day. I found a Men of Letters file on it. The locks only let those in need open it. There's no physical key."
"Well, what the hell? How do I open it then?" Dean asked, giving you a frustrated look. "There could be something good in there."
You laughed and moved closer, staring at the unassuming mahogany cabinet. "It doesn't work like that, Dean. If you want to open it, be in need. I guess, fixate on something you need in your mind. Maybe it'll unlock."
"Hmm," he hummed, scratching his head thoughtfully. "Okay. Uhh..." He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and you giggled at the concentrated look on his face. He tried one of the cabinet pulls again and it clicked open.
"Oh my God!" you said excitedly. "You got it! What did you—"
He gave you a smile and pulled it open the rest of the way to reveal a huge bouquet of roses. Your jaw dropped open as he pulled them out and held them up to you. "I need you to forgive me for falling asleep during our movie night last night."
"Wow," you laughed, accepting the bouquet. "Very smooth."
"I thought so," he grinned.
You smelled the flowers again and shook your head at him. "Don't think you can use this to get you out of it every time you mess up! It's too easy!"
"Did you say easy?" he asked, looping his arms around your lower back and giving you another charming grin.
"Yeah, you are, Dean," you giggled.
"Only for you." He leaned in and kissed your neck, and all was forgiven.
Prompt: "The locks only let those in need open it. There's no physical key." / "Well, how do I open it then?" / "Be in need."
A/N: This was cuuuuute halp
Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)
distractions
you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual
your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.
the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.
it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.
at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.
he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.
you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.
you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.
you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.
you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.
so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.
well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.
give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.
"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.
as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.
"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."
caught.
"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."
aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."
oh? "oh."
"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"
you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"
"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."
hi! here's a teaser edit for a really cool and spooky romance/horror/angst project i'm working on 😁 (it'll be a hotch x reader short series)
i have no clue when this project will be out, seeing as i want to fully finish it before i start posting it, but here's the synopsis of the series 😁
(this is also a shameless plug to my tiktok where i frequently post edits! 🤭)
-୨ WAKING UP IN AN OLD HOTEL, the team scrambles to find answers. why are they here? how did they get here? though the building feels a little unsettling, things get progressively more unsettling and life threatening the closer they get to the answers. what the hell is going on here? ୧-
Dean was thoroughly enjoying the view; you were in his shirt from the night before and nothing else, just the soft brush of flannel on your bare thighs. Sam had taken Cas out on a case and you had the bunker to yourselves.
You turned away from the stove where bacon was crackling in the pan and Dean gave you a warm look, which drew a wide smile from you until—
"Dean—I know you are not about to drink my coffee," you said, watching him reach for your mug. "It'd be a real shame for me to have to kill you this early in our relationship."
Dean looked taken aback and then let out a gruff laugh. "I thought what's mine is yours and vice versa?"
You moved around the kitchen island to wrap your arms around his neck and lean against him. "Of course it is, babe... just not the coffee," you whispered throatily, planting a soft kiss along his jaw and then retrieving your mug.
Dean affected a shiver. "Ooh... damn. Lesson learned," he said, smiling at you in amusement. "I'll get my own mug."
You took a slow sip, your hands wrapped around the warm ceramic. "I think that would be wise," you said sweetly.
Prompt: "It'd be a real shame for me to have to kill you this early in our relationship."
"How long does it take to brew the Felix Felicis potion, and how difficult is it?"
You frowned in concentration, trying to remember the exact amount of time it required. You always got confused on this one, you weren't sure why. "It's one of the most difficult potions to make, with disastrous consequences if made wrong, and it takes... four months?"
Sirius closed the book with a smile. "Almost. Six months."
"Almost?" you repeated, sighing. "That's not even remotely close!"
"Sure it is. You could have said it takes six days."
"Potions is my least favorite subject and I suck at it but I know that brewing Felix Felicis requires months. I'm not that dumb."
Sirius leaned back in the armchair, grinning. "I never thought you were. And you don't suck at Potions."
"Thank you..." you muttered, lowering your gaze. Sirius was doing it again. Staring at you with that intense look that made you wonder what the two of you really were. Because that stare wasn't something you normally directed at friends.
"Alright! Now that's out of the way - you're going to ace Slughorn's test, don't you dare doubt me - can we go practice yoga?" He jumped to his feet, making you laugh. He looked so excited, like a child on Christmas' Eve.
"We can, we definitely earned it."
"Yes!" He pumped his fist in the air and you laughed again, shaking your head. "Look at you all thrilled after you've had just one lesson!"
"I had a good teacher!" He winked, and you tried with everything in you not to blush, as you left the Common Room and headed up to the dorms to get changed into something more practical. Sirius said you could do yoga in his dorm, since James, Remus and Peter were busy, so you quickly put on some comfortable clothes and grabbed your mat, before reaching him.
Studying with him had actually been very helpful. When he had told you he could help you revise everything in a few hours you hadn't really believed him, but he had been good with making you memorize ingredients and effects of several potions by linking them together. He said it was a method he had come up with that made learning subjects he hated easily, and he wasn't lying. You did feel better after cramming with him.
You knocked on the Marauders' dorm room and waited. You didn't hear anything, so you knocked again. "Sirius, are you ready?" Without thinking, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Your mouth almost dropped open when you saw Sirius by an open window, looking outside. He was waving wildly, you guessed at his friends out on the school grounds, and he definitely hadn't heard you, judging from the way he was standing there clad only in his trousers, shirtless.
You cleared your throat and he turned around, but didn't look embarassed at all. "Oh, sorry, Y/N! I didn't hear you, James was shouting something." He hurried to close the window and walked toward you, smiling brightly. "Ready?"
"I am, but..." you gestured to his chest.
"I thought about practicing like this, it feels less... restrictive," he explained. "Unless it makes you uncomfortable..."
You certainly didn't want to make a fuss over a shirtless boy. Even if you and this shirtless boy were standing extremely close to his bed, in his deserted dorm room, and the boy in question looked so good it took you everything not to stare. "Of course not. Shall we?"
You laid out your mat while Sirius just moved to the centre of the carpet.
"Alright, let's start in mountain pose. Follow me, and stop me anytime you don't understand or need help," you exclaimed, trying to sound confident.
Sirius nodded and mimicked your pose, as you both closed your eyes and you guided him in your practice.
It went well. He even almost managed to pull off crow pose, but ended up almost face-planting to the floor. Almost, because you had moved beside him to help him with alignment, and managed to steady him just in time.
Even his back looked good, you thought, as you stared at his shoulders, his shoulder blades, the muscles that twitched as he moved slowly. As you touched his shoulders to help him with the pose you felt your face flush. He was so damn attractive, and you hated feeling so affected by him. You two were just friends, and you had grown closer lately but it didn't mean anything at all, not when Sirius could have anybody he wanted-
"Y/N?"
You blinked. "Yes?"
"Can you show me that other pose... wheel pose?"
"The one I was practicing yesterday when you walked in?" He nodded. "Sure."
Hoping you wouldn't end up looking like an idiot - you had only recently mastered wheel pose - you showed it to him, and Sirius let out an appreciative whistle. "That is impressive. How long does it take to learn?"
"Everyone's different, some people can do it right away. I wouldn't recommend you try it today though, I think we've done enough and you should get some rest." You told him after coming out of the pose.
"You're right. It's almost dinner time, as well. I feel hungry after exercising!" He paused, staring at you with a slight smile. "You're quite the sadist, making me hold forearm plank for a whole minute."
"Am not! You insisted you could hold it for longer than five breaths," you pointed out, smiling. "I am sure you just wanted to show off. Admit it."
"Me? Do I look like somebody that thrives on attention?" he gasped dramatically, a hand on his heart, pretending to be offended.
"Of course not. You're such an introvert," you rolled your eyes, still smiling.
Suddenly, silence enveloped you both. As you stared into his eyes, marveling at how handsome he was, Sirius moved one step closer to you. "When Peter interrupted us yesterday..." He bit his lip, slowly placing a hand on your arm. That instantly gave you chills. Good ones. "I meant to ask you..."
"Yes?" you whispered, eyes fixed on him. His fingertips on your bare arm were really distracting. And he smelled so good. Damn. Stop it, Y/N. Focus.
"It's Hogsmeade weekend next Saturday, do you wanna go together?"
You felt your breath hitch in your throat. You had been hoping he'd ask you out for a long time, but had never dared believe he really would. "I would like that," you replied, trying to smile but feeling as if your face had frozen.
Sirius was smiling big enough for both of you, anyway.
James greeted you and Lily with the brighest smile he could muster and sat down opposite her. Remus took a seat in front of you, smiling slightly. He looked tired.
"Hey boys." You placed your fork down and wondered why Sirius - who practically lived glued to them, or at least to James - hadn't come down for breakfast yet. It was Saturday, but it was ten, and if James and Remus were awake you were pretty sure he must be, too. "Where's Sirius?"
"Oh, he couldn't move from his bed. It's all your fault, Y/N." James grinned but you merely blinked, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he worked out with you yesterday, didn't he? And when he woke up he said he was sore all over and that he was probably dying and we should go ahead and get breakfast without him."
"He's such a drama queen..." Lily mumbled, rolling her eyes.
"We didn't work out. We did yoga." You pointed out. "It's much more than that. It's for your mental health as well as physical, and-"
"Yeah, yeah, we believe you!" James interrupted you, clearly not in the mood to listen to any details. "But if you're done eating, since it's basically your fault Sirius can't move, I would go and bring him some breakfast if I were you. He'd appreciate it."
Without waiting for your reply, he started piling all sorts of foods on a plate which he then handed to you, along with a mug of hot coffee. He was grinning ear to ear and you shot a confused look at Remus, but he nodded and smiled encouragingly, so you grabbed everything and said bye to everyone.
Lily didn't look too happy to be left alone with James. Well, Remus is there too, she'll be fine.
When you knocked on the boys' dorm room you realized you had no clue where Peter was and you hoped he wouldn't be in there with Sirius... things were already kind of weird anyway. But when you heard Sirius' voice tell you to go in you were happy to notice he was alone, sitting up in his bed, wearing a t-shirt and what looked like sweatpants. "Y/N?" He looked surprised to see you, but immediately jumped out of bed. "Is that for me? I'm starving! Thank you!"
As you handed him the plate and observed him move around the bed to sit down once again you thought he didn't look sore in the slightest. "Sirius?"
"Yeah?" He muttered after swallowing some coffee, raising an eyebrow at you.
"I thought you were... dying, as James eloquently put it."
Sirius stared at you as if you'd turned into a Hippogriff. "Me? Why would I be?"
"That's what James said, he told me you were all sore and couldn't move cause of yesterday's yoga practice, and-" You froze, as you realized. That idiot had done it on purpose to send you up to Sirius' room. "I'm going to murder him."
You turned to leave, but Sirius quickly got to his feet and stopped you. "Wait! I thought... maybe we could share?" He offered, pointing to the plate, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. He was damn good at it.
"Well... technically I've already had breakfast... but I could do with some more coffee, I suppose."
You gingerly sat at the end of his bed, reaching for the mug. Sirius sat close to you and for the first time since you'd met him many years before he seemed at a loss of what to say. He kept poking his food with the fork, taking very small bites, as you sipped the coffee.
"So... do you feel okay after yesterday?" You finally asked, just to break the silence. "No sore spots?"
"Oh, I'm fine! Just my legs are a bit sore, but not too bad." He glanced at you with a small smile and you wondered how the hell he managed to look so great on a Saturday morning. Even his hair looked perfect, not a strand out of place. I want to run my fingers through his hair so badly. No, Y/N, calm down. Don't think like that. Keep your cool, and-
"So when are we going to do some more yoga? I loved it yesterday. I felt really refreshed, after." Sirius added, as he bit into a piece of toast.
"I need to study for Potions..." You made a face. You hated Potions. "So I'll be busy today and tomorrow, I think."
"I'll help you with that. We can get it done by today."
You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him skeptically. "Remus is the master, not you. You hate Potions as well."
"I do. Doesn't mean I'm not good at it. I usually just don't bother."
"Well, maybe you can help, but if we end up just wasting time-"
"We won't! Do you really think I want to spend one more minute than necessary on Slughorn's subject?" Sirius made a face and you started laughing, almost spitting the coffee out. "And then we can do yoga and you can teach me that raven pose."
"Crow pose."
"Yeah, that one."
Sirius smiled at you warmly and you smiled back as you placed the now almost empty mug down. He also got rid of the plate and moved closer to you. "Y/N..."
"Yes?"
"I was thinking that next weekend maybe..."
He'd moved so close that you could almost count his eyelashes, but your gaze kept drifting to his lips and although you knew he would notice you couldn't help yourself...
"PADFOOT!"
You almost jumped, startled. Peter had run into the room but he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed you. He frowned, confused. "Uh... sorry?"
"It's ok, I - I was leaving anyway." You replied, getting up, flustered. "I'll see you later, Sirius."
You didn't look back as you left the room and closed the door behind you.
Great timing, Peter, you muttered to yourself as you descended the staircase, annoyed and frustrated.
Sirius finds you doing yoga and wants to practice with you. This might, or might not, lead to the two of you growing closer...
Finally.
The dorm was empty, the girls had left for an hour or so, and you were free to chill and do whatever you wanted.
It's not that you didn't love your friends - you did, and you were grateful for each and every one of them, especially your best friend Lily. But sometimes you just needed some time to be alone and recharge, and your favourite activity to do so was yoga.
As you changed into some comfortable clothes and stepped on your purple mat you closed your eyes and started breathing, to relax and focus. You could hear the birds chirping outside, a sound that put you in a good mood, and you started going through your usual practice. Mountain pose. Fold. Plank. Downward dog.
Half an hour later, as you were moving into the difficult wheel pose which you had only recently mastered, you heard some noise and then a deep voice addressed you, causing you to almost fall. Instead, you let go of the pose as gracefully as you could and got up, exhaling heavily. "Sirius! How did you get in? I thought boys couldn't enter the girls' dorm..."
Sirius was standing next to the door, wide-eyed. "What was that? Is it magic?" He asked, ignoring your question.
You chuckled. "No. It's called yoga. You know my parents are Muggles, right? My mum is an instructor and she taught me the basics when I was younger and when I go home we still practice together."
"So... you can do that bendy thing without any magic at all?" he sounded and looked incredulous.
"Yeah, it's not as hard as it looks. I mean, it can be, it took me a while to be able to pull it off." Since he clearly didn't understand, you explained to him what yoga was and eventually he stated that he wanted to try it.
"Well, downward dog should come easily to you." You hinted at his Animagus form and he raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Sounds naughty."
"It's not, you perv! Why are you here, anyway?"
"I got bored, James is busy pining after Lily, Remus has ordered me to leave our dorm since he wants to take a nap... I thought I'd come ask you if you want to do something together." He sighed, looking very much like the drama queen he could be when James deserted him.
Truth was, Sirius and you had been spending more and more time together recently and you knew you fancied him, a lot. But you didn't know what he thought of you. Actually, you were afraid he only saw you as a friend.
But then there were moments when he stared at you the way he was doing right then, almost needily, and you weren't sure anymore.
You cleared your throat. "Well... I am almost finished with yoga, so-"
"Can you teach me?" he interrupted you.
"I don't know... I'm not a teacher, but I could try to show you something easy, I suppose..."
"Please! It looks fun." He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes and you didn't know whether to laugh or kiss him. So you settled for nodding.
summary: [4.5k] Upon visiting your grandma for the summer, you're greeted by more than one familiar face.
pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: references to alcohol and death of a parent, childhood friends to lovers, slow burn (?)
series masterlist | main masterlist
Chapter One: Welcome home, Honeybee
An hour or so outside of Nashville is a town called Sweet Dreams, too small to show up on any map. The ones who want to make it out, bask in the irony. They say this town is exactly the place where dreams go to die.
Most people who have the privilege of leaving Sweet Dreams don’t come back. They watch the dust kick up in the rear-view mirror and say good riddance. But you’re not like most people.
You tip the taxi driver extra, even though he’s dropping you off at the edge of the property and you have to tug two suitcases and a backpack through a quarter mile of dusty road. The walk gives you time to think. Time to breathe. The air is different here, fresher. You can’t remember the last time you got to walk outside in the middle of the day and only have birdsong to keep your thoughts company. You’d thought that the vast emptiness would be a good change of scenery. You’d thought that the neverending din of the city was clogging up your brain, making your thoughts scramble like eggs in a hot skillet on Sunday. Now, they echo back to you, sung back in the form of mockingbirds. You don’t know if it's better. It’s just different.
By the time you make it to the paved driveway, your arms are aching and there’s a current of sweat making its way down your back. You’re barely twenty feet from the door when Nana appears in the open front doorway. Upon catching sight of you, she’s barreling down the porch steps, holding her sun hat to the top of her head so that it doesn’t fly off. Dropping the handles of your bags, you allow the woman who basically raised you to engulf you in the best hug this side of the Mississippi. She smells like fresh soil, powdery perfume, and everything that’s good about the world.
“You’re here! I told you that I’d pick you up at the airport! You didn’t have to call a cab,” She admonishes, before smacking kisses all over your face. “I missed you sweet pea.”
She looks older now, and the thought tugs at your chest. Her hair is more silver than anything and the lines around her eyes and mouth are deeper than in your memory. It’s only been a few years, but your grandmother wears an entire new lifetime lived without you on her face.
“I missed you too.” You let out a laugh but there’s a melancholy feeling to your words. You know that if you stir on them just a little bit more tears will start flowing out and never stop. You bury your face into the collar of her blouse, willing yourself not to cry.
“Well,” She says, taking a step back and putting her calloused hands on your shoulders. “Let me get a good look at you.”
You smile, doing a little spin for her amusement.
“Just like I thought. Even more gorgeous than the last time I saw you.”
Heat rises to your cheeks in response. You never quite knew how to take her constant compliments. Not only about your beauty, but your intelligence.
“How’s your daddy doin’?” Her words are casual but her tone is clipped. Her lips curl in and she busies herself with brushing imaginary dust off your bare shoulders, looking at you like she’s trying to commit the sight to memory.
You breathe out a sigh, “As good as he’s ever doing.” Which is usually not good, you think but don’t say.
Nana only purses her lips, nodding in agreement.
Both of you know that your dad hasn’t been the same since Mama died. Mama was a realist. That’s why she left Sweet Dreams in the first place. Your dad was a dreamer. Without your mom to anchor him to this world he was adrift. He was careless with what he had when he had it. Now, he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s gone.
You fiddle with the strap of your backpack, feeling the weight of everything you brought with you digging into your shoulders. You should probably call him to let him know that you got here safely.
“You must be exhausted after traveling,” Nana says, breaking you out of your reverie. “Let me just put my gardening stuff aside real quick, you can go ahead into the kitchen and I’ll fix you up something to eat.”
You nod and step inside the house, taking your baggage with you.
—
The fridge, or as Nana likes to call it the frigidaire, looks exactly the same as you remember it. Magnetic alphabet letters are used to hang up reminders and photos. She still has the same drawing that you gave her for Mother’s Day all those years ago, the crude crayon stick figures of the two of you standing side by side in a wide-open field. Now, there are signs of aging, the paper yellowed and curled at the edges.
Aside from your childhood art, there are wedding announcements and Christmas cards a plenty. You recognize one of the faces. James wasn’t related to you but that didn’t matter. In Sweet Dreams, everyone was family. He was getting married to a woman named Elizabeth at the end of the summer. You can’t help but smile at the picture of him, his future wife, and his daughter.
The last time you saw Winnie, James’ daughter, her mother had still been alive. The news of her untimely demise and James’ sudden status as not only a young widower but a single father had caused aftershocks that made their way all the way out to you in California. It was nice to see how happy the three of them looked together. You remind yourself to let Nana know that you want to see them soon.
“Miss Mellie? I’m done with the car. There was something wrong with the fuel tank.” A man comes into the kitchen through the back door, dressed in a white tank top and blue jeans, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag.
He stops, eyeing you curiously. “You’re not Miss Mellie.”
“I’m not,” You say, dropping your backpack onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
Just then the screen on the kitchen door bursts open. The bottom has been busted for years and never repaired, for the benefit of the four-legged basset hound that’s bounding towards you. You light up at the sight of him, but your joy is cut short by the comment of the strange man who has yet to introduce himself.
“Careful. Jackson gets nervous around strangers.”
Jackson only pants in response to the man’s statement, gleefully sniffing your shoes before licking the exposed skin of your calves.
“Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not a stranger.” You mutter leaning down to scratch the dog behind his ears. “You don’t have to tell me about my dog, I was there the day he was born.”
Jackson was the runt of the litter. You had picked him out, seeing how he was weaker and smaller, being trampled over by his brothers and sisters. Your father had given you a funny look when you pointed at the weak little thing and said that one! The look quickly went away once Nana gave him a look of her own.
“No shit.” The man leans back on the counter with all of the comforts of someone who knows this house like the back of his hand. He puts down the greasy rag, running a now clean hand along the sharp line of his jaw, his expression a mixture of disbelief and recognition.
“Now,” You huff, standing straight again much to the chagrin of the dog still panting at your feet. “Are you gonna tell me what you’re doing in my house?”
Your snippy attitude doesn’t seem to have the desired effect because he only looks right back at you with an easy smile.
“Y’know, I’m a little offended that you don’t remember me, Honeybee.”
Despite the heat of the Tennessee summer, you’re frozen. Only a handful of people have ever called you that. One of them bursts through the kitchen doors, holding a stack of mail in her hands.
“Steven!” Nana exclaims, confirming your suspicions. “You all done with the car?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Oh please Steven, you know you don’t need to call me that.” Her tone is lightly scolding but from the curl of her lips, you can tell that she likes it. Nana has always been a stickler for good manners. “I see you’ve found my grandbaby. Isn’t she a beauty?”
His smirk only grows deeper as he tips his head. “Must run in the family.”
She turns her attention to you. “You remember Steven, don’t you sweet pea? The truck was making a noise that was something awful. He offered to fix it up for me.”
Steve looks decidedly bashful, shaking his head and casting his gaze down to the floor. “It was nothing.”
Nana doesn’t even take into account his modesty, instead barreling through the rest of the conversation like she always does. It’s a wonder that she’s thrived in such a slow and peaceful town all her life when she constantly lives and talks at twice the speed of everyone around her. Everyone else is left trying desperately to keep up. “The two of you used to be thick as thieves, I swear. Could never find one without the other.”
“I remember,” You murmur, only chancing a glance at the boy across the room who seems to have turned into a man overnight. You guess that’s what six years apart will get you.
You remember Steve’s mother. She was a sweet woman when she wanted to be, if a little self-absorbed. Every summer they spent in Sweet Dreams her accent would fall into its natural rhythm and syncopation, annoying the hell out of Mr. Harrington. He always had a sneer on his face, screwed up like he had just taken a bite out of a lemon and was waiting for the sting to subside. He only showed up for the first and last week of the season, to usher his family in and out of his wife’s hometown.
Steve always acted a bit tougher with his father around, puffed out his chest, and forced his voice to go deeper. You once pointed this out to him and he gave you a nasty look and told you that he had no idea what you were talking about.
You apologized and Steve forgave you in the way that kids do, over brown lunch bag trading sessions, with plastic-wrapped treats being exchanged between sticky fingers. You never brought up his father again. For all of his father’s watchful eyes, his mother was the complete opposite. She was one of those people who believed that children shouldn’t be seen or heard. So, she pawned Steve off to the dusty streets of Sweet Dreams, knowing that whatever trouble he could possibly amount to was limited by the fact that the town was so small.
But Sweet Dreams didn’t always feel so small. In fact, when you were a kid the entire world seemed only to exist in a twenty-mile radius.
Steve clears his throat. “Well, if that’s everything I’ll go get cleaned up.”
“Oh! Actually, could you be a dear and take the luggage that’s by the front door into the guest room?” Nana asks.
Steve flashes an award-winning smile. “Anything for you, Miss Mellie.”
Nana shoos him out of the kitchen with promises of a good dinner and even more thanks. You’re still stuck on the fact that Steve Harrington is in Sweet Dreams and apparently has been for a while if the way your grandmother was interacting with him was any indication.
“He’s staying in the old shed.” She explains, sensing your confusion. She’s already opening the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of iced tea that immediately starts sweating in the Tennessee heat. Your mind is stuck on the soft thudding of heavy footsteps on the wooden staircase. The sixth step still creaks after all this time. “Fixed it up and everything. It already had a bathroom and a waterline, so all he had to do was make it livable.”
You can only think of offering a hum in response, grabbing one of the floral glasses from the cabinet, and pouring yourself a cup. It tastes like home.
“I’ve got you all set up in your Mama’s old room. Figured you’d like the sunlight. I pulled out the yellow bedspread, I remember that one being your favorite.”
Tears collect in your eyes. It’s been a while since anyone has paid attention to you long enough to remember anything insignificant about you. Nana collects every small detail like they’re precious, saving them for a rainy day so she can show you just how much you mean to her.
“Thank you, Nana.” You manage to choke out. You want to say more. You want to give her an explanation for why you dropped everything and showed up at her door. You’re not ready for any of that.
“Of course, darlin’.” She says simply, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s good to have you home.”
“It’s good to be home.”
—
Nana tells you to go upstairs and unpack–she purposefully set today aside for you to relax and unwind, knowing that you would probably be exhausted after traveling for so long. The reprieve is temporary, though. She’s assured you that the entire town has been informed of your stay and that her birthday party will also serve as a welcome home party for you.
Despite your insistence that you don’t want to take away the spotlight from her, she only winked and told you no one can take the spotlight from me, sweetie. Everything’s been prepared for the party tomorrow night. You’re already dreading the questions that you don’t have the answers to.
You make your way upstairs, avoiding that creaky sixth step. The walk to the room is daunting. The bedroom door has been left slightly ajar, and rays of sun are peeking through the crack, the only source of light in the dark hallway.
Taking a deep breath, you push the door open. It looks exactly as you remember it. The curtains are drawn, allowing the north-facing windows to showcase the wide-open fields and dusty roads that you know and love.
The yellow bedspread is there, just like Nana said it would be. It’s sunbleached after so many years, but it still feels soft and comforting.
Your mother’s painting is still in the same spot. Looking at it, you can tell it’s never been moved the way the corners of the wallpaper around it give it away. Anyone with a keen eye can see how the pale sage green walls were once deep and rich, having faded away like so many other things in Sweet Dreams do. By sitting right where it always was.
Taking a deep breath, you move to unpack everything. The drawers in the vanity are all empty, except the one in the very center. It’s locked, and despite your best efforts, remains that way.
On the vanity, there’s an old picture frame. The photograph inside is of a memory you cannot believe you’d forgotten. You’re sitting cuddled up next to your mom. It was the day that you’d gotten Jackson, and he was so small you could still hold him in your little eight-year-old hands.
You’d refrained from smiling for weeks at that point, utterly mortified at the gaps in your mouth from losing your two front teeth at the same time. In that moment, though, you were smiling so wide. Jackson had gone from sitting quietly in your lap, to jumping up to lick you on the chin. The shock and subsequent squeal of laughter had been captured and kept.
You move the frame to the bedside table. It’s good to be home, you tell yourself. For the first time today, you’re not quite sure if you mean it.
—
“Is James coming tonight?” You ask in between bites of fresh strawberries and buttered toast.
The temperature in the kitchen is nothing less than sweltering. You’d been spoiled out in California, living near the bay and rarely having to worry about the weather climbing above seventy-five degrees. The room is in a state of organized chaos, with all of the food being prepared and cooked for the party. Nana stands at the back end of the kitchen, her back to you. She’s been up since the crack of dawn, placating your insistence to help her with food and conversation.
“Oh, I’m sorry honey. He called this morning. Winnie’s got a toothache and he and Betty decided to stay home with her. I know you were looking forward to seeing them.”
“It’s okay,” You assure her. “Just would’ve been nice to see a friendly face.”
She turns the dough on the counter before folding it over and kneading it. There’s flour all up and down her forearms and most likely butter under her fingernails. “Steven’s coming,” She reminds you as if that fact is supposed to be reassuring.
“Right, of course.” You try to keep the apprehension out of your voice. “Steven.”
The truth is that you don’t know where you stand with him. You’d heard his voice from the top of the stairs last night, all full of polite regret that something had come up and he couldn’t attend dinner. The next sight you caught of him was his back as he rode off into the distance.
“He’s single, y’know,” Nana says, punching circles into the dough and setting them onto a baking tray. “He’s been working on the farm for about a year now. Real helpful.”
You know the farm isn’t what it used to be. After the passing of your grandfather, a lot of the acreage was sliced up and sold off to neighboring farms. They give your Nana tiny cuts of the profit, something to do with southern hospitality and it being a widow’s homestead. She’s still gardening, though she probably shouldn’t given her old age. Trying to take gardening gloves from Nana Monroe is like trying to wrangle a wild horse. Still, Steve’s wage must be meager, all things considered. No wonder why he’s living in a shed.
“Nana, I didn’t come here to date.”
“Well, what did you come here for?” She says, turning around and crossing her arms. Then, realizing the harshness of her words, she sighs. Dusting flour off of her palms and onto her worn apron, she rubs her thumb across your cheekbone. You can’t help but revel in the gesture. “You know I love having you around darlin’, but I know you didn’t decide to come spend the summer with your grandma just for kicks.”
The truth of the matter wasn’t easy. It was hard to swallow and tasted a lot like failure.
“I haven’t figured it out just yet, but when I do I’ll let you know.”
—
Drinks have been poured, food has been served, and the birthday cake has been cut. It seems the entire population of Sweet Dreams has overtaken the living and dining rooms, and you wouldn’t be shocked if that ended up being the case. If you had to count the number of inane conversations where you repeated the same five facts about yourself to people who haven’t seen you since you were fifteen, you might combust.
Everyone assumes that just because you go to school in California, you must be living the high life. Beaches and parties and sunsets on the West Coast seemed like a dream to those who live and die in land-locked states, yearning for the smell of salt air and sand beneath their toes.
You know better. California does have all the glitz and glam and charm that they seem to think it does, but it also is an agricultural state. The cities that aren’t highly populated, with bustling nightlife and celebrity mansions, are mostly cow towns. You’ve seen these places while driving down the 5 highway. It doesn’t escape your notice that the exact places that remind you the most of home, are the same ones that people pass by in hopes of getting to somewhere better. They sit in their air-conditioned cars and breathe through their mouths, hoping to drown out the stench of cow manure.
Never mind the fact that the curtains for your dorm were too sheer to block out the city lights, leaving you up for all hours of the night. Or the fact that, while you loved the beach, sometimes you longed for freshwater and mud between your toes rather than salt and sand. You still brought back pictures from when you and your friends decided to take a weekend trip, forking over small amounts of gas money and bartering meal plans in lieu of cash. The pictures spin a different story. One of a girl who knows what she’s doing and living her best life. Never mind that the thread being spun felt more like you were coming unraveled.
The back porch has always been your refuge when parties get too loud and the temperature inside gets so hot that it seems like even the floral wallpaper has started wilting. You sneak out through the kitchen door, relieved that there’s no one there to catch you. Nana usually would have noticed your absence by now, but she’s distracted. Uncle Chuck brought out his acoustic guitar and your grandmother has never passed up an opportunity to perform for others.
You sigh, taking one last bite of rhubarb pie before setting the paper plate down on the ground next to you. Testing the porch swing, you’re delighted to find that it’s still just as sturdy as ever. It used to be that you’d have to sit at the very edge of the seat in order to get it to swing without help, the tips of your sneakers barely grazing the ground. Now, you lean back and your feet are planted steady on the wooden planks below.
You and Steve used to play pirates here, pretending that the sway of the swing was the rocking of the ocean against a mighty ship. You’ve never felt more unmoored.
The screen door creaks as it swings open, and you brace yourself for Nana’s lilting voice, telling you to come inside and entertain guests. It doesn’t come. Instead, a deep timbre casts itself out into the night air. Despite the lingering warmth of the day’s heat and the lack of a night breeze, you feel goosebumps rise up on your arms.
“Not having a good time?” Steve asks. His figure is backlit, bathed in the golden light of the kitchen.
“No, I am. Just–” You take a moment to think of an explanation that won’t give too much away. “Needed a breather, I guess.”
He hesitates. “Maybe I should go then.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been told I take people’s breath away.”
You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can barely hide the smile that tugs at your lips. “You are insufferable, Steve Harrington.”
The smirk on his face grows into a full-blown grin. “It’s one of my better qualities.”
Steve sidles up next to you, hand wrapped around a beer. It’s amazing to think that the last time you saw him, the two of you would have to bend backward to sneak the bitter liquor out of the coolers without anyone noticing. Now, you’re both of age to where nobody blinks an eye. The thought makes your chest feel tight.
“So why are you out here?”
“Do you mean why am I in Tennessee? Or why am I on the porch?”
He shrugs. “Either one.”
You shrug your shoulders, sitting back and letting your feet swing and scrape across the wooden floorboards of the porch. “I just felt like I needed to come back. Remind myself of some things I felt like I was forgetting.”
Steve nods like he gets it, and opens his mouth as if to say something but decides against it. What instead comes out is an olive branch.
“I’m sorry if I offended you with the whole Jackson thing yesterday.” He offers sincerely. “And about missing dinner. I was so busy working on the car yesterday that I forgot I had to fix the Tillman’s chicken coop.”
You put on an air of faux contemplation. “I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”
“Thank god, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.” He playfully puts his hand over his heart before letting it drop to his side, lingering in the limited space between you. “Took me a second to recognize you–you look so different.”
Steve looks different, too. Baby fat has melted away to reveal high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Once gangly limbs have filled out into broad shoulders and muscles that strain against the cotton of his t-shirt. He was always cute, you’d be remiss to pretend that he wasn’t. But the year in Sweet Dreams seems to have been treating him well because now he resides on this side of ruggedly handsome.
“Good different or bad different?” There’s an underlying current of something in your question, but you’re not sure what.
“Good different.” He casts a sidelong glance at you before looking out at the backyard, saying the next statement into the lip of his beer bottle. “Same bratty attitude though.”
“Hey!” You squeal in mock offense, lightly smacking the back of your hand against his chest. The movement comes like a second nature, remnants from childhood squabbles. In the microseconds it takes for you to draw your hand away, you take notice of the solid mass of muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt.
He’s full-on smirking now. “Nice to know some things never change.”
“You’re one to talk,” You retort. He quirks a brow at you. “You’ve always been such a charmer. I’m pretty sure you’ve got the entire female population of Sweet Dreams wrapped around your finger.”
He gives you a meaningful look. “Not the entire female population.”
You have a sharp reply sitting at the tip of your tongue, pointing directly at Steve, when someone calls his name from inside. It’s Uncle Chuck, insisting that the man sitting next to you join him in a duet.
“Well,” He stands up, brushing his palms on his denim-clad legs. “I should probably head back inside.”
You hum in acknowledgment, only ever so slightly disappointed, but make no move to leave your spot on the porch swing. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Steve opens the screen door but props it open with his foot. The golden light from the kitchen is on his face now, and you can see the soft edges of the boy you once knew.
“Welcome home, honeybee,” He says simply, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
With that, he steps back inside and the screen door slams shut. You’re left alone on the back porch, breathless.
—
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