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jeanbie · 1 year

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porco as a teen hcs<3?? tysm!

MODERN! PORCO HEADCANONS #1 ★ masterlist.

⏤ hii! sorry for a late response, here are my porco as a teenager headcanons! i'm assuming u mean modern hc...because i think canon!porco is too busy with warrior training to actually enjoy being a teenager so i think they'd be boring, but i can think of some if u still want canon-related porco hcs!! other than that, enjoy!! <;33

for most of his teen years, i think porco is just figuring himself out

he probably feels a lot of pressure to live up to his brother (who went to an amazing uni and is doing an amazing degree and is just so amazing, yeah yeah he’s heard it all before)

porco doesn’t really know what he likes and what he doesn’t

he definitely follows a lot of crowds, trying to one day figure it all out

porco puts on a front when he’s in public, as if he doesn’t care about anything or anyone or anybody else’s opinions on his life

but i think in private porco is kinda sensitive and easily bothered by stuff

which is why his day to day life might shock people

porco’s room is a hand-me-down from his big brother but it has a lot of character

porco likes art and draws a lot in his spare time

(he could never do anything with it, he doesn’t love it that much, but it’s an escape for him)

so his desk is full of sketch papers and pencils and he’s that person who has drawers just filled with books and papers and some can’t even close properly

porco also likes to read and has a pile of random books down by his bed

when porco’s like 14 he starts to get really invested in planes and the mechanics and the whole aesthetic of pilots is kinda what his style is revolving around at the moment

he likes the top-gun movies soooo much

he owns one of those aviator jackets and wears it religiously

porco is also a lifeguard as a part time job, again he doesn’t really care much about it but it gives him some money and he gets to use the gym they have for free

personality wise, i think porco is really funny and honest which can sometimes cause conflict and it’s been the reason why he has no friends

then when he hits 16 and transfers schools when his parents decide they wanna be closer to the city that marcel moved to for uni, he meets a new group of friends

porco likes to start drama and then remove himself from the equation

actually he just likes to start shit with people for fun…which is why his mum thinks that he might be a good lawyer, he’s good at debating and arguing with people and doesn’t crack under the pressure of thinking of a comeback or a point or even a source

he probably does use reddit a lot….a flaw..

he’s also an avid porn watcher….like a lot of teenage boys, but sometimes he watches it even when he isn’t horny, just when he’s bored

he swears a lot and always has pencils in his pockets but he refuses to use a new one until it’s so small that he can no longer hold it

porco would kinda like to go into design engineering if he goes to uni (:

⏤ teen porco’s bedroom: a map

it’s small so there’s not a lot going on

porco doesn’t like to cling to his past self so anything slightly related to his childhood is in a box in the loft, he doesn’t want to look at stuffed animals now that he’s grumpy and a teen

his corkboard is full of cinema tickets, he definitely likes to keep the cinema tickets to all movies he goes to

sometimes porco can get lazy with his laundry and just has stuff everywhere but eventually he cleans it up

porco can be very clean when he’s feeling stressed, and he likes to deep clean the house (his mum likes that) when he’s feeling the stress get to him

he has a lot of movie posters in his room

and as i said, the drawings all over the desk

i think porco probably doesn’t have a tv in his room because he doesn’t watch a lot of tv, so his games console is downstairs because he shares with his dad

there’s nothing that makes his room stand out from anyone else’s room because porco doesn’t LOVE being in his room

if he can help it, he likes to sit in the living room in his house with his family or he’s out with his mates

if he’s in his room its to study, draw or sleep

⏤ porco in a friend group

unassuming at first

but he’s the cause of chaos in his group

currently his friend group consists of the warriors (zeke, colt, reiner, bertie, annie, pieck, yelena…the marley team yk) and sometimes ymir when she can be ripped away from her girlfriends’ clutches

at first i feel like porco is feeling his way around the group and then he starts to come out of his shell

his personality is quite “Chaddy” and sarcastic and he often jokes around for fun, never really meaning any harm by his flirty jokes or relentless borderline bullying

he also smokes with the guys a lot and figured out that marcel smoked and did every drug he could name at uni just for the experience, so he has something to bond with him about when he comes back for a bit

he thought his friends would find his hobbies weird but he comes to realise that these guys don’t give a single flying fuck what porco likes as long as it’s not revolting and yk, wrong

bertie, in fact, likes to draw and annie reveals she drew creepy anime characters when she was a pre-teen

porco and his friends like to doss in public places, like at skate parks or in the treehouse that zeke has in his backyard that his dad built for his half brother but since eren’s younger, zeke can take it by force (eren doesn’t care because he’s too busy trying to flip his skateboard on the patio with his own friends)

porco is also a bit of an underage alcoholic but he absolutely cannot drink wine or else he will be drunk too fast and be sick anywhere

he is that kind of freak who likes the Godfather pitcher at spoons and all of his friends think that’s disgusting

porco likes to tease and mess around but he is quite supportive of his friends, even when his words don’t align with that fact

⏤ porco in a relationship

himbo alert

he can find it confusing trying to be himself two times at once

because who he is with his friends is who he is on the inside, but who he is with his partner is also him but with alterations

he is quite laid back and toooo chill, which can sometimes be a problem with his s/o

his partner would need to also be low-maintenance because i just think porco would have a hard time finding the willpower to be over the top

he definitely puts his all into a relationship but it would be shown in ways other than extravagant flowers

he’d draw or doodle his s/o in class or something and probably likes writing love letters like an old man

but he does not believe in valentines day, that man thinks it’s a commercial scam and he’d rather just kiss his partner and give them a cute letter or drawing…cause he’s not spending £8 on some chocolates for one day, he loves his partner but that’s crazy

that stupid boyfriend who isn’t aware of how stupid he is sometimes

but you just need to learn to love it if you want to be tied down to him

(probably said and believes in “bros before hoes” so take that into consideration too)

he’s not a RED flag but he’s turning amber yk

#porco #porco imagine #porco headcanons #porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco x reader #porco galliard headcanons #attack on titan headcanons #aot headcanons #aot hcs #modern aot #modern aot hcs #porco hcs #upload #headcanons #hcs #💌 requests #ittojean #jeanbie

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rreskk · 1 year

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I just thought about something with drama (love drama 😏) Imagine Reader who's confronting Trevor's mother (I don't remember her name) without Trevor. BUT Trevor came home when Reader slapped the mother and insulted her because she abandonned Trevor. Trevor's mother trying to make Reader look like the bad girl by saying she's crazy, attacked her for no reason and Trevor has to protect her from Reader? Trevor's gonna protect her mother, do nothing or take the side of Reader ?

---A/N: Heyyyyyyyyyy, I made Trevor do nothing. I tried to be realistic, basing it from his reaction to the 'Mrs Philips' mission.

Summary: Betty came to visit.

TW: -Implied child abuse.

You were rightfully cleaning up your laundry in Trevor’s trailer. While unloading the stacks upon the kitchen counter, the door opened. You automatically thought it was Trevor, proceeding to turn around with a smile. Until it dropped.

The woman seemed to look at you the same. Both staring a each other. She had red curly hair, droopy cheeks and awful makeup. She wore clothes that were obviously dated back to the 70s… Yet she stood with unlimited confidence.

“Can I help you?” Steadily eyeing up her every move, you spoke.

“Where’s Trevor? And who are you?”

“Trevor’s out… I’m his partner.”

She scoffed, “Partner? No chance, my love. He’s probably drugged you.”

There was appalling amounts of shade in her words. You took a step back in offence.

“Who are you?”

The woman was silent for a moment. She spent another second observing the trailer before pointing to herself.

“I’m his mother.” She said in a soft tone, sugar-coating the title of being a mother to gaslight you. The way her eyes furrowed in pity and innocence. You weren’t fazed.

Instead, you were angry. Trevor spoke about the trauma this woman gave him. The neglect, verbal abuse, abandonment… And now she stood in his living room. You were lucky he wasn’t here. You hoped he’ll turn up after she’s gone.

“I’ve heard of you. Betty Philips. Trevor told me. It’s nice of you to show up… 10 years later, without a damn word.” You backhandedly foretold with a scowl.

She flinched at your words like flint and steel. Betty lifted her stuck-up nose and ignored your truthful insults.

“Why should I listen to a random person I’ve never met before. I doubt you even know the boy. He couldn’t possibly find himself a lover.”

You chuckled, “You’re funny, Betty. This random person has been with Trevor long enough to know your games. He may not know, but I do. You ram your tongue and boss him around. You manipulate him through insults and neglection. You get your own way by giving him the cold shoulder. If you were ashamed of who he is today, damn right it’s all your fault.”

Betty inhaled sharply and held a massive grudge. Her eye twitched, something Trevor had inherited whenever he felt enraged. You stood your ground though and kept great eye contact with the woman as she took a step forward.

“What did you just say to me?” She hissed.

Muted due to her stealth, you kept a close attention to her. Trevor mentioned this type of behaviour before. She acts like she’s about to physical hurt you but don’t. She makes you think she will.

“How DARE you say that to me. How DARE you speak for my son. He is not here and I kindly reject your filthy manner!”

You breathed out painfully and smirked, “Now you know how it feels.”

Betty, in spite of her rage, began raising a finger to your face. Her polished nail almost scratched the surface of your cheek. The audacity made you grind your teeth and strike her in the nose. As you palmed the exact centre of her face, the door opened once more.

You gasped.

“Wha-“ Trevor whispered as he just about caught you slapping his mother. The mere shock in his eyes. He hadn’t of seen his mum in 10 years and the second he does, she’s being harmed by someone close to him. You.

“Trevor, I can explain!”

“Oh, yes they can!” Betty bellowed with a snarky grimace, “Of course you find yourself an abuser for a partner! You wrecked boy!”

He was overwhelmed. His mouth was dropped open and all the confidence he normally had was gone. He carried nothing on him. Nothing but weakness.

You shook your head rapidly, “No, no! She was disrespecting me and you!”

“I-“

“You can’t let your own mother be attacked by a slut, Trevor! You aren’t a man at all! You’re a pathetic little girl. Your father was damn right about you…” She enjoyed the look of despair in his face. You held your breath at the ongoing series of insults and verbal abuse.

Trevor stuttered, “Mama, no-“

“Mama? What are you? My god, Trevor. How are you living? You… You were such a waste of space,” Betty belittled, “I expected so much of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Betty. You leave him alone.”

She glared at you as Trevor finally spoke.

“W-What are you doing… Here?” His voice cracking with anxiety.

“I’m your mother! You rascal!”

“SHUT UP, BETTY!”

“Okay!” Trevor cried out, holding out his hands to both of you, “Okay, please. What is going on… What…”

I sighed, “She walked in without knocking and began tormenting me.”

He didn’t know how to react as he looked at his mother for moral support. You were disgusted.

“Trevor, don’t look at her. She’s a bitch!”

“A bitch?” Betty riled up.

“YES, A BITCH!”

“STOP IT!” He wobbled, “PLEASE, JUST STOP!”

I threw my hands up in disbelief and scoffed under my breath. Betty looked at me up and down through this action in distress. She was amused. She loved the negativity of people. She was an evil witch.

“Oh, get over yourself, boy.” Demanded Betty, hands stationed on her hip.

You tried to give him a reassuring look but Trevor refused to even glance in your direction. Growing tired of this woman, you threw the laundry onto his bed and leaned into his ear.

“I’m leaving.” You spat.

Trevor went to reach for your hand but you left the trailer, furious at his muteness. He turned to Betty who was smirking at your defeat.

#trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips #gta 5 #gta v #grand theft auto 5

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battlemaiden13 · 2 years

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May I ask for random headcanons, some romantic/crush/platonic or just stuff you think they'd do? For the Bad Guys Group, which is dust, nightmare, killer, horror, error, and cross. Sometimes people add fell and fellswap (red) sans in there, and you can if you want. I just haven't had much luck finding any written content about those guys. Might be pestering you more about them, since you do have lovely writing. Wouldn't want to take up all the request slots though, you know? Have a lovely day.

13: I don't actually have request spots unless I break like 200 and am no where close to that, so ask away! It will just take me a while to get to asks. Also this is my first time writing for Cross but I really enjoyed my own headcannons, sorry if they don't really line up with anything else though.

Error

doesn’t like physical contact at all. He will, involuntarily, hurt anyone who touches him. The contact makes him uncomfortable as it sends an almost static like shock through his bones.

Does not like anyone. He has no positive feelings for anyone, even the skeletons in his group. He would feel nothing if they were dusted. He is pretty much neutral on all opinions of others. This makes it seem like his bored all the time.

His sole goal is to destroy worlds created by others to keep the balance and the multiverse pure. He will only not achieve this if stopped by Ink and his group or he’s powers have been significantly drained.

He is considered the de facto leader of this group but this was decided purely on magic strength and the fact that no one else wanted it. He won’t use this position often letting the others do whatever they want.

He gets irritable when in dimension where his powers are drained on top of his already short temper. This makes him almost impossible to be around as he seems to drain all positive emotions that come near him.

Killer

killer and Dust had the same ‘glitch’ underground that prevented them from moving past a genocide run after defeating the human. Being alone slowly drove them insane in different ways. One of the main differences between them is that Killer can still form attachments to people where dust can’t.

He almost always wears his hood up and his clothes always seem dirty even if they have just been cleaned. He refuses to get new clothes as his old ones are sort of like a security blanket for him.

Uses his magic to kill most of the time rather than a physical weapon. He does carry around Chara's knife which he’ll use on occasion but he prefers his magic.

Likes making jokes and will laugh at his own jokes. These can sometimes be pretty funny although other times they are very disturbing

Killer hates being alone. He will follow people around, or sneak into the other skeletons' rooms to sleep on the floor just so there is someone else around. Whenever he is alone he has severe panic attacks.

Has a split personality. He doesn’t remember killing people but just sort of ‘wakes up’ after the carnage is done.

Cross

Is affiliated with both the bad sans and the good depending on their goals. He’s more like an antihero choosing the side that will benefit him and fit with his morals the most rather than staying with the one team. Being as strong as he is both Error and Ink have just sort of accepted this.

Is the de facto mum friend in this group whenever he is here. He will tell them to go have showers, bring them water and food, do their laundry and most of the others come to him when they need someone to talk to.

He is closest to Nightmare out of this group and the two often hang out together. Nightmare will talk more if Cross is in the room and the two even joke together although they also pick on each other a lot so it’s easy to mistake their friendship for an enemy relationship

Draws in his spare time. He has filled multiple sketchbooks at this point as is very good at sketching but he doesn’t like others knowing about this hobby, it’s just something he does to help ground himself.

Is pretty awkward in social situations and has a hard time with social ques. He hates when people stare at him and often feels like he’s said the wrong thing although he doesn’t understand why

Dust

Dust, having been driven insane from months alone in an empty underground, can see and hear the ghost of his brother. He can be found talking to them although there is no evidence that the ghost is actually there.

Often kills in a haze of confusion or anger. He won’t know he’s doing it until he snaps out of it with a corpse or pile of dust in front of him. He has become numb to seeing the dead.

Has a nervous habit of picking at the top layer of bone. This has led to his forearms gaining a flaky texture that he hides away under his sleeves. He also has his hood up all the time to hide away. It makes him feel safe.

Has a very short temper and will blow up at others often. Threatening to kill them or even just going for it with no warning.

He uses the fallen child’s knife to kill and will always carry it on him, hidden away in one of his pockets. He will hold the handle to ground himself if he ever needs it but it doesn’t work 100% of the time.

Nightmare

Hates apples, any and all kinds and will throw a fit if they are ever around. However moments he can’t control his magic, like when he’s asleep or experience extreme emotions an apple tree will grow near him, sprouting the blackened apples that he hates so much.

Doesn’t necessarily hate his brother would just rather never be in the same room as him. He can only take small doses of Dream at a time. They have a very complicated relationship that Nightmare doesn’t have any want to try and fix.

He is a very drippy boy. Goo falls off of him all throughout the house and there really isn’t a whole lot anyone can do about it. Just try not to slip on it.

Hates his old clothes, they closely resemble his brothers and remind him of his least favorite time in his life. He still has them but refuses to wear or even acknowledge their existence

Is actually pretty quiet when compared to the other sans here. When he talks his voice is covered in a sort of distorted or bubbling sound that he assumes others hate so he just won’t talk. Someone mentioned it once so he just thinks everyone hates the way his voice sound and feels he doesn’t need to give people more reasons to hate him.

Axe (horrortale)

due to the injury to his skull he sustained underground (from Undyne) he has a hard time remembering things. This could be where he is to who new people are to simple facts.

to help with his memory Axe has a wall in his room that is just filled with scribbled handwritten notes of things he needs to remember.

Axe has an eating disorder that was developed underground. His stomach and mind have a hard time distinguishing if he’s full and so he will often overeat.

Axe is very self conscious and will often get very uncomfortable if anyone starts talking about appearances even if they aren’t mentioning him. He will shut down and not join in the conversation.

Axe, even if he is really interested in a conversation, has a hard time following them for extended periods of time. People will often get annoyed at how often he needs things repeated until he can process what is being said.

#undertale imagines #headcanons #bad sanses #bad sans gang #horrortale #horrortale sans #errortale #errortale sans #x tale #dreamtale #dreamtale nightmare #dusttale

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neverforpickles · 2 years

Text

Hello. Happy 28th. This month is my first time doing this. I am excited to make a list of the works I have enjoyed this month alone. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. Thank you for writing these amazing works, writers.

Do We Have A Chance (At Redemption)?

themoviesinourdreams | NR | 4.3K

“He finds himself at the overpass, the hairpin turn on Kentucky Road, and he’s getting out of his car and folding himself onto the frozen ground. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he’s being pulled into a warm, strong chest.

Alpha, his stupid, stupid, brain thinks, drinking in as much as Harry’s scent as he can. He’s known Harry for less than two days, and he’s already broken down twice in front of him. Louis needs to get out of this fucking town. “This is where that boy died,” Harry says after they’ve been sitting so long Louis’s legs have begun to ache. “When you were in school here.”

“No,” Louis says, something he should not say, a topic he should not be broaching, a memory better left alone, “this is where I killed him.”

OR the one where louis comes home for thanksgiving and has to confront the everything that happened in his hometown the with help of the hot hottie harry”

gallery of us

@levelofcharm | E | 55.7K

“In spite of wanting to sound lucid and coherent for his own big jump, Harry wants to be near and touch, wants to listen to whatever the omega’s saying because he loves that voice, and he's always hated talking unless he has to. They're a good pair, the two of them, a perfect balance. Louis’ all sunshine, good vibes and healthy eating, lingering hugs and sticky cheek kisses, and Harry's the complete opposite without explanation, but fuck, it feels good to be around someone like that. To have someone like that in his life at all.

Harry wants to protect his affectionate ball of light from the world's ignorance, wants to help add to the glow like starting a snowball, rolling it around until it can’t get off the ground because it’s so heavy from all the effort, patience and commitment.

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.”

Dark Paradise

orphan_account | M | 953

“At least be clean about it! These suits weren't cheap!”

“Shut up.”

“I will not! You're not the one who does the laundry, Harold!”

“Dry clean 'em”

“Yes Harry. I'm going to send two suits drenched in blood to the dry cleaners. That's not suspicious at all!"

OrHarry's a serial killer and Louis puts up with him.”

How Many Times Will It Take (To Get This Right)

LilyBlue28 | E | 150K

“Harry was watching her go, unable to meet Louis’ eyes again now that they were alone, and that’s how he saw him when the young boy leaned around Jay to peer at his mum and Harry. Harry’s jaw went slack, his mouth falling open in disbelief when two green orbs identical to his own found him and stared unwaveringly calm into Harry’s sunglasses-covered face. His small features were undeniably close to Louis’. Their noses, their lips, even their brow line was the same, but the pup’s eyes were an eerily familiar shade of emerald, and much rounder than Louis’. His hair fell in dark ringlets around his small face, which was also much too round to really say the child looked like Louis, despite the similar features. Harry sputtered when his alpha roared in his chest that Harry should follow the kid--should protect his pup.But there was no fucking way.

OR the one where Louis and Harry used to be good friends (and casual fuck buddies), until Harry's music career took off and he left for a world tour. Louis disappeared from his life after that and for the next four years Harry mourns the loss of[…]”

the corpse in the closet

@orchidsbyjune | M | 4.7K

“Harry fell in love with someone that should be out of his grasp.

-For the love that came, and the pleasure and it’s misery. ”

Rapture

@allwaswell16 | E | 3.2K

“It was New Year's Eve in Victorian London, and a lonely vampire could no longer resist the stunning lamplighter he watched night after night.

Or, a vampire Harry fic because what says the holidays like Victorian vampires?”

I’m insatiable, it’s all your fault

@larrydoinglaundry | E | 21.7K

“Harry has met many, many attractive people during his heats before, some of whom have been on the brink of their ruts, and he has never wanted to spread his legs open as much as he wants to do it right now.

All Louis has to do is sit right there on the chair, and Harry is ready to present.

Louis' scent wraps around him like a tender hug, intoxicating in the best possible way. It smells so much like a picnic in a forest; something sweet yet sophisticated like dark chocolate, sprinkled with a touch of pine and rain. It’s everything Harry is addicted to.

OR The last thing Harry expected when he started a new job was to meet his truebond. The only problem is, his truebond happens to be one of his students, and he's never been the man to dismiss his morals.”

Carolina

@orchidsbyjune | Teen | 1.5K

“The young man’s laugh ricocheted like a bullet in the dark. Full of hope and courage. And in their minds, they’d wonder of the reasons that made them so happy, so in love.”

Heat Wave

@wildwinters | M | 64.1K

“Italy, 2018. Summer in Italy is sticky, especially in Marina di Pietrasanta. Louis Tomlinson, a soft and independent omega, goes to spend his holidays there with his daughter Alice. He has rented a vacation home built on a large estate owned by one Harry Styles, a kind-hearted alpha who is not very fond of children, but he tries.A lot can happen in fifteen days.”

I would wait forever (and ever)

anditsonlyforthebrave | NR | 10K

“Louis is brave and has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.”

you pop when we get intimate

DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry | E | 7.4K

“Harry has never been eaten out before. His pack leader offers to show him what it's like. A lot of orgasms ensue.”

Breathe me in, Breathe me out

@lunarheslwt | GA | 14.2K

“Louis was just passing the autumn collection, when an unfamiliar but addicting scent tickled his nose. Cinnamon. He turned as he realised something.He felt calm. Relaxed.The permanent agitation that he carried was melting away the more he breathed in the scent, as faint as it was. Consumed by the crazed desire to seek out the specific candle, Louis began picking up candles and sniffing them madly, when a deep voice piped up, startling him.

“Uh, sir, we don’t allow candle fetishists in here.”

Louis froze mid sniff in mortification. Willing himself to not blush, he turned, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Except, it died in his throat as he took in the man before him.

“I uh,” Louis blurted out accidentally, temporarily rendered speechless by the frankly unfairly beautiful man before him. Only at the man’s grin widening did he regain his wits.

“You’re gonna kink shame me?”

Or, Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent[…]”

Vice: Nesting is weird, but it’s okay

@littleohs | M | 9.4K

“Harry has all the pressure on his shoulders, but resorting to his instincts is not the best option for him. He doesn't want to risk his relationship with Louis by being a flawed omega.

Or, Harry nests for the first time and he doesn't know how to behave.”

The Lesser King

HelenaAzure | NR | 8.5K

“Louis goes off to war leaving Harry on the throne. But Harry has a dangerous secret of his own. With time running out and his health on the line, will Harry break and tell Louis, or will he consume the dangerous poison of insecurity destroying everything they have.

Or A sweet little tale of finding one's own worth told through the eyes of our favorite people, sprinkled with humor, a dash of angst and a side of fluffy, lovey-dovey stuff.”

dived head in first to the intricacies of you

@orchidsbyjune | GA | 2.1K

“Harry’s personal ode to Louis’ bravery.”

lucky me, lucky you

@everysingleday | E | 7.1K

“There’s something about him, Louis Tomlinson. Of course, he’s beautiful in a god-like way, tan and leanly muscled everywhere Harry’s seen and so effortlessly gorgeous even with his ruined quiff and wrinkled shirt that it makes Harry ache. Harry’s not going to deny, either, that he’s got a bit of a hero worship thing to sort through—that he can’t believe he, Harry Styles, in all the slightly nerdy, gangly-limbed, eighteen-year-old awkwardness he knows he is, has caught Louis Tomlinson’s attention.

Louis’ gorgeous and a minor school celebrity and—Harry doesn’t think that’s all it is. After all, Louis’d said be a good boy and it had hit Harry in the backs of his knees, softened all the tendons and muscles until it was an immense effort just to keep his feet.

He wants to let Louis have that—have him, on his knees, easy and good and willing—badly.”

serve me up a little hope on the rocks

we_are_the_same | M | 10.2K

“He’s just finished making a drink for another customer when a literal angel walks towards him. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the crowd almost seems to part for him, and for a moment Louis wonders if there’s a literal halo around him or if it’s just the lights in the bar, and then he notices the way the man trips over nothing, and the illusion wanes somewhat.

He’s still fucking gorgeous though, even on bambi legs, and Louis resists the urge to paste on his tried-and-ever-undefeated flirty smile. Instead he just grins, appraising this newest customer and trying to remain professional. He might be demiromantic, or whatever the fuck Zayn had called it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate this man’s good looks. After all, his romantic identity had nothing to do with his sexual identity, much as people assumed it did. For a brief moment Louis laments his decision to stop sleeping with people, especially when the boy pops a dimple when he smiles back at him.

Or: Louis is a bartender who doesn't take drink orders, but just makes drinks based on what he thinks his customers will like. Harry is[…]”

Twenty- Eight

@beardyboyzx | M | 1.4K

“Can't believe you finally caught him," Niall says, clapping him on the back. He's been there with him on his very first mission, when Twenty-Eight was just the first criminal Harry encountered in his spy career to them.

or: Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.”

Feeling It Now

@crimsontheory | E | 7K

“When Louis hooked up with a hot guy in the bathroom at a music festival, the last thing he was expecting was for that guy to be one of the headlining acts at the festival.”

Woken Up From My Sleep

therougeskimo | NR | 7.8K

“Louis Tomlinson ropes the rest of One Direction into his notorious pranking on their security.

Harry Styles just wants to sleep after his flight gets canceled. He wakes up drowning - kind of.

Or the one where Louis pranks the wrong room by accident.”

L’amour de ma vie

lovesicklarry | GA | 8.8K

“Louis stands there as Harry walks out of the room, He scratches the back of his neck near his mating gland as he speaks “Uhm, I should leave…” He says, tapping his foot on the floor.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he stands there for a moment “Do you have to?”

“Uhm— well, I wouldn’t want to intrude any longer, you must have plans of your own,” Louis speaks slowly.

“I am off this week — if you don’t have a specific itinerary, I can show you around in an amazingly custom french manner… show you some amazing places and restaurants.” Harry says in a breath, his hands behind his back, itching — hoping that the omega in front of his eyes would accept the offer and stay for longer.

“Do you mean that?” Louis asks in confirmation.“

Every single word.” Harry nods along with a serious face.

OR One where they meet at an impromptu ball in Paris during pre valentine’s week and things that happen after that are unplanned but meant to be.”

A Sprintime’s Wilt, an Autum’s Bloom

snowcaplou | E | 2.5K

“What about you Harry? Maybe you should apply for the position,” she teases.

“Oi! You better not be trying to get rid of my best driver-- I can’t go looking for a replacement, I’m too busy!” Louis says with a playful slap to Savannah’s shoulder. It's jestful, like the rest of their conversation, but there is a possessive bite to his words-- my best driver-- the words bounce through Harry’s ears until he can just hear the words my and mine. It falls deaf on Savannah’s beta senses, but for a minute Harry thinks he can sense the same words zooming through Louis’ thoughts.

My, mine.

My alpha.

And woah, Harry’s taking it too far. At least, he thinks he’s taking it too far, but when he looks back up from his plate, Louis’ eyes are heavy on his, and for a fleeting second, Harry can pretend he heard Louis say it.

ORHarry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.”

a rose surrounded by thorns

star_k | E | 3.3K

“There were nine levels of hell in Dante’s vision. Distantly, Louis wondered in which one you’d go for getting off on rimming the demon who ate your soul.”

Blackberries and Cherries

lilliandherself | E | 13.9K

“The look on Harry’s face is what causes him to waver. He looks desperate, and Louis knows he is. A potion like this could help Harry with the one thing he’s always struggled with; school. But Louis’ not a certified witch and has never practiced this potion before. Anything could go wrong.

Hesitantly, he says, “I will try to make this potion for you, but—”

He’s interrupted by Harry’s cheering. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, you are the best friend I could ever have, you mean so fucking much to me,” Harry says, the words falling out of his mouth on impulse. Louis closes his eyes and scrunches his nose when Harry begins pressing kisses all over his face.

Nothing about this can end well. Louis knows that for a fact.

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.”

heaven sends ( a little death)

ressurectdead | E | 5.1K

“And then, the girl opposite her smiles. She smiles, and it’s not even because of the little devil horns on her headband and the red tail stuck through her belt loop, but it’s still absolutely devilish, and Harry’s heart absolutely does backflips into outer space and back.

or: harry experiences a ghastly surprise of ghoulish delights when louis, the girl she’s been looking at during the halloween party, turns out to be not just a regular girl. well, thing is, she’s not even human.”

Nebula

docklands | E | 2.5K

“Louis is alone at home. When he sees a shooting star, he makes a wish for his life to change. What he doesn't expect is the visit of some kind of alien incubus to service him.”

i swear i could give you everything

alwaysxlarrie | teen | 5.5K

“Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 in the morning. But he had to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though.”

i can feel your blood pressure rise

cinnamons | E | 9.2K

“Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone. Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.”

Climbing over me while I crawl in the backseat

cuddlebugharry | NR | 3.5K

“Just because you eat organic bullshit every day and probably do hot yoga to indie music doesn’t mean you’re better than everyone else. You walk around like you’re all high and mighty just because you can choke down green sludge and touch your toes.” Louis spits.

“First of all, kale isn’t the only thing I can choke down, being flexible in many different positions has proven very useful, and you’re even hotter when you’re all worked up.” Kale Asshole chuckles as he brushes Louis’ fringe out of his squinted, angry eyes.”

in every sense of authenticity

orchidsbyjune | GA | 1.2K

“It’s that collective feeling of belonging, of strength, safety and home that’s enough to make Louis be a little braver day by day, more courageous and be trustful in every leaf of faith that he takes. ”

this love is ours

loulicate | M | 21.K

“I told you to call me Harry.” Harry looks amused. It’s not funny. Louis throwing up because of him isn’t funny.“But I’ve been calling you Mr. Styles for so long.”“And now you’re carrying my baby.”

or Farmer Harry got village girl Louis pregnant without mating.”

The Compulsion to Find Love

Toomanytears | E | 140K

“The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.”

a night with you next to me is never truly dark

platinumlies | M | 22.6K

“This feels like a date.” Harry said as he finished his chocolate bar.

“It is a date.” Louis confirmed as he finished his own piece of candy, “A chocolate bar date.” “A chocolate bar date.” Harry hummed, “With meteors.” he added.

With meteors.

…and that was just the beginning.”

On Thin Ice

@neondiamond | E | 16.4K

“As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.”

My Only Angel

LaLaUnicornz | E | 7.3K

“Harry wakes up in the hospital and thinks he's met his guardian angel.”

Enjoy! See you next month’s 28th edition. x

#FR #28th appreciation #28 September #35 Works

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changingplumbob · 6 months

Text

Pancakes Household: Chapter 7, Part 3

Pancake part 3 is done. Dale has been a brilliant dog but his sunset is drawing to an end.

TW: Sim dog death. No dead Dale is shown (Why do chickens get to interact with Grimm but dogs don't?), but there are a few pics of him in the timeless save.

In this part Dale has a happy day before crossing the rainbow bridge peacefully. Bob gains a celebrity star, develops into an emotion bomb and self publishes two cookbooks. Finally, as each sim day is 3 months in my timeline, the next family dog arrives.

And here we have proof that my save file Pancakes are good for each other. Bob propositions Eliza and she doesn't worry about getting her everyday clothes into the hamper until she wakes up the next day. Dale decided to sleep outside last night. With lights and noises starting up inside he wakes up happy.

I've come to accept that Eliza's business associates are only available for business calls at the weirdest times. Today they're available at 6:30am. Bob made everyone a tasty breakfast and gets Dale ready to go for a jog. He may be old but Bob knows he likes the wind in his floof.

Fair warning, today is Dale's last day. He enjoys going for a jog with his dad and I take the opportunity to get some photos of him for the house. When they get back home, he and Bob spend time together. He follows Bob around while he collects the laundry and puts it on to wash.

Writing this cookbook is proving hard for Bob. Writing is one of his weaknesses and he tries to avoid it when possible. Yet he does want to improve his fame and this seems like a good way to jump start it. With Dale providing moral support he finishes it, and self publishes it from the mailbox.

Iggy and Fergus return from school with the same project boxes, space models. They set up shop in the lounge and begin working with supervision from Dale. Bob joins in to help Iggy before work. Fergus suggests Iggy needs all the help he can get, but the older brother playfully laughs it off.

Bob departs for work and Dale guards his clothes.

Eliza: How was school

Fergus: Fine

Iggy: Some kids mentioned rebate day. Last rebate day we got the treehouse, what do we get this time?

Eliza: Saving accounts

Fergus: Seriously

Eliza: Your father and I have ordered a new bed

Iggy: Mother, ew, we don't need to hear that

The boys return to their projects and Eliza takes a moment to admire her new possession. She heads back downstairs and hasn't been helping Fergus long when Iggy finishes his project. Being a good brother he comes over to help Fergus but doesn’t even have time to sit before it's also finished.

The boys head to bed while Eliza kisses Dale and makes more weirdly timed phone calls. Bob arrives home from his shift feeling tense, but he's now a 1 star celebrity. He's on the road to fame. He uses his new status to impress Eliza, who is already impressed, and the two head to bed happy.

I don't like to use life extenders in sims. If I used it on one I would use it on all and no one would ever die. Dale has lived a long and fulfilling life. It's time for his last jog over the rainbow bridge. Farewell to one of the best boys.

Dale arrives on Olive's beach looking young and exuberant. She gives him a large treat and promises he has family waiting for him. Indeed, a hop skip and jump later he's in the timeless save with his mum and fellow litter mates. Dale happily plays at peace (he's the one between his mum's paws).

It's no surprise that everyone wakes up sad in the regular save, they miss Dale. Eliza stress cleans, although she feels guilty about vacuuming up Dale's fur. At Breakfast Bob is despondent. He tries to put on a brave face for the kids but isn't sure what to do to comfort himself.

While the rest of the family eat, Bob throws himself into tasks. His low mood has pushed him to develop the celebrity quirk Emotion Bomb, the countdown has begun. After his exercise he fixes the washing machine. Somehow the washed clothes are still pristine. He hangs them up when the doorbell rings.

Bob: How's it going

Aaron: I'm okay, just noticed it seemed pretty quiet over here

Bob: Dale is no longer with us

Aaron: Oh man, I am so sorry

Bob: I mean we knew it would happen sometime, he was getting old

Aaron: Still, pets are a hard loss

And with that the emotion bomb detonates and Bob cries.

After a therapeutic cry Bob feels much better, the sadness has dissipated.

Bob: Now I know you didn't come to a chef's house and put a snack in the microwave

Aaron: I have to plead guilty

Bob: The fridge is stocked with baking you know

Aaron: I did see that when I got my quick meal

Bob: Then why

Aaron: I wouldn't have done it if you didn't have pizza rolls hiding in there

Bob: Thanks for checking on me

Aaron: Any time. The idea that men can't express emotions is so last century

Bob: I think I want another dog

Aaron: Already

Bob: Life is short, and I'm a dog person

Aaron: You'll know best

Aaron leaves and Bob gazes out the window at the sunny autumn day. He knows that Dale would want him and the family happy. But can he convince the others to get another dog so soon, and that it's not going to just be a replacement for Dale. He certainly hopes so.

Fergus and Iggy arrive home sad. Unsurprisingly they didn't have a great school day. They pay Dale's remains a visit, relieved their parents haven't taken him to the cemetery yet. Bob begins to write another cookbook, this one dedicated to cooking for your pets, but must fix the computer.

Fergus and Iggy decide to play in the treehouse for a bit rather than do their homework. Their parents can write excuse notes.

Eliza: Another dog

Bob: If you're okay with it

Eliza: I don't want Dale's death to throw you off your workout routine, it keeps you healthy, physically but also mentally

Bob: Any type of dog?

Eliza: Rescue

Fergus: I want another dog

Iggy: I want Dale back

Fergus: Me too but a new dog could be cool

Iggy: Whatever

...

Eliza: You think they'll be okay with this

Bob: He'll feel differently when it's here

Eliza: I hope so, I miss Dale

Bob: Me too Jumble, me too

Eliza: Maybe... a small dog

Bob: It's a promise

While Eliza works out Bob makes a call to the adoption agency to see what dogs they have. Then, deciding there's too much baking in the fridge, reads a baking book to improve his skill. Fergus tries to cheer himself up with TV while Iggy gets lost in his violin playing.

The next day begins, we're out of prepared breakfast meals so fruit pie for breakfast it is. Bob is the first one ready for the day. He listens out for the doorbell while he eats. The adoption agency should be dropping off the new dog soon and he's feeling confident that he picked a good one.

Also Home Chef Hustle is out! Bob's kitchen- I mean, the Pancakes kitchen, gets a make over. My first complaint is simply that the inner corner cabinets are just shelves which don't marry up nicely with the boxy look of the regular pieces. So the cabinets span one wall with shelves underneath.

Introducing 3-year-old Ginger. She is a mixed breed dog that has been spayed. Her previous owners were getting too old to care for her properly so were looking to rehome her with sims that could keep up with her playful nature. She is smart, although the rehoming situation has left her jumpy.

Eliza: Where are you

Bob: Dining room! Okay Ginger, time to shine

Eliza: Have you seen my- oh, is this our newest dog

Bob: Her name is Ginger

Eliza: Well hello Ginger, welcome to our home. I hope you'll like it here, we're excited to have you

Ginger: *stares around silently*

Previous Part ... Next Part

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #Rotation7 #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #PancakesHousehold #ElizaPancakes #BobPancakes #FergusPancakes #AaronYork #OnyxPancakes #IggyPancakes #R0705

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sbwrites · 2 years

Text

Eddie Munson headcannons bcz I haven’t finished the kinktober post yet

Definitely listens to queen only bcz Brian is one of his favourite guitarists

Used to babysit the kids in the trailer park when he was younger for some extra cash before he started selling drugs

Will only sell to over 16s and not to any of his friends

His main stims are jumping and headbanging

His main hyper fixation is metal

He will tell you everything about his favourite bands or book if you let him

His mum & dad are in prison because of a crime they committed together, he doesn’t care when they get out or if they do

Trans!eddie definitely named himself after eddie van halen & iron maiden’s mascot

He only wears soft pj pants & band t shirts around the trailer

Only gets dressed if he really has to because sometimes his clothes make him over stimulated

Refuses to get a corporate job and said to Wayne “I’d rather deal drugs for the rest of my life than waste away at a corporate job with a stupid boss”

Never knows what to get Wayne for any holiday so he buys him mugs because they’re cheap and thoughtful

Over charges jocks & people he knows have money

Saved up for almost three years to buy his guitar and amp because he refused to let Wayne buy it

Got his acoustic guitar from a yard sale for $5 because a string broke

All his rings/ accessories are from yard sales

His leather jacket used to be Wayne’s when he was a teenager

Saved up good money so he could go see Metallica in ‘85

His van was a 16th bday present from Wayne but the whole trailer park pitched in

Accidentally fell asleep in the back of his van one night and woke up to hopper banging on his van door bcz Wayne filed a missing person report

Only went to jail once bcz he beat up a guy at the bar for trying to drug a girl

Gareth bailed him out

Has boxes under his bed filled with things from past hyper fixations

forgets to return movies so he has a piece of paper on the fridge and on his wall with all of the return by dates on

slept at some of his friends houses and go back to the trailer before wayne woke up for a bit when he first moved in because he was scared he was overstepping

when wayne found out he gave him a hug and put up some Metallica posters up with him

the only time he asked wayne to help him is when he spray painted the corroded coffin banner

He only wears certain types of socks because other ones over stimulate him

Has a massive hyper fixation on space

Wanted to be a scientist when he was a kid

Used to win science fairs in elementary and middle school

Can cook a really good mac & cheese and spaghetti bolognese

Loves the sound of rain but would rather die than get any rain on him

Only does laundry once a month because he hates the laundry mat

Hates being cold but hates wearing scarves and coats so he layers up under his regular clothes

He’s not mean he just takes a while to warm up to people because of the bullying he’s been put through

Had always been bullied because of who his parents were but it got worse when he started expressing his love for his hyper fixations

Got a buzz cut because he got some bad knots in his hair and tugging his hair is overwhelming for him

#eddie munson #sb.eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things volume 2

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phantasticworks · 2 years

Text

a delicate cycle

hi! i was supposed to post this months ago but completely forgot to finish it until last night (oops) but this fic was inspired by the what dan and phil text each other part 2 video (specifically the part where Dan doesn't know how to use a household appliance lol)

i hope you enjoy!

(more iydlmp coming soon btw)

read on ao3

Words: 2.9k

Summary: twelve years should be enough time to learn how to do laundry... right?

Warnings: swearing

2009

Dan is crying.

Again.

He doesn’t mean to be, and he’s probably got a hundred things he could be doing instead of crying, but there he is, sorting pants and a million fucking socks and sniffling like an idiot. “Fucking laundry,” he mumbles sourly. Laundry really shouldn’t be this hard, or this annoying. It certainly shouldn’t be enough to make him cry.

His phone beeps with what is probably either a message from his mum asking how his studies are going, or hopefully (and more likely) a message from his best friend/boyfriend.

It would be kind of perfect if it was Phil, because then he’d have a convenient excuse to not do his freaking laundry. Or maybe he could do what he did last time, pack everything up into a suitcase and show up at Phil’s front door like some sort of homeless person. Phil said he didn’t mind if Dan did his laundry there, and a visit to Phil’s does sound nice…

Unfortunately, Dan is too miserable to even care. He ignores his phone entirely, telling himself that he isn’t allowed to check it until he finishes sorting his clothes and taking them down to the shitty little university housing laundry room.

Luckily for him, this plan is shot entirely when his phone starts to ring. There’s only one person who actually calls him these days, and Dan can’t help the way he scrambles for the device like the eager beaver he is.

“Hi,” he greets, slightly out of breath from practically leaping over the mountain of clothes to grab his phone.

“Hi, Dan,” Phil replies, his voice warm. Dan has no idea how he always manages to make his name sound so beautiful, but he does.

“Hi,” Dan says again without thinking. He can’t help it, really. He’s in love with Phil, and he reckons that he’s a little stupid with it.

“Hi,” Phil giggles. “Have you been turned into a parrot since I saw you last?”

Dan makes a squawking noise just to hear Phil laugh again. “Danny wants a cracker,” he jokes.

Phil laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, and Dan probably looks deranged with how wide his smile is. “Does Danny have something to do today?” Phil asks, sounding a little hesitant.

Dan sighs, his gaze falling to the pile of dirty clothes still strewn across his bed. “Well. To be honest, yeah. I’m meant to be doing laundry right now.”

“Yeah?” Phil asks. Dan doesn’t know why he sounds so excited.

“Yeah,” Dan replies miserably. “But I hate going to that laundry room, and I don’t know if I should wash my jeans separately and-“

“Come wash at my house,” Phil interrupts. The words are quick, like he’s desperate to get the invitation out there, and Dan tries not to think about why that might be.

“Phil, I don’t want to keep being an inconvenience to you, it’s not fair.”

“You’re never an inconvenience to me,” Phil says, sounding absolutely affronted. “Don’t ever say that, Dan.”

Dan huffs. “Well it’s not like you get anything out of me washing my laundry there.”

Phil makes some sort of offended squeaking noise, and if Dan wasn’t in argue mode, he’d probably laugh. “Uh, I get to see you?” Phil says, like it’s obvious. “That’s all I care about anyway. I just want to spend time with you.”

And that… that nearly makes Dan cry. At some point since he’d picked up the phone, the tears had stopped, but that sincerity, naked and honest, makes him want to weep all over again. “Really?” He sniffles.

“Yes,” Phil answers immediately. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to come over, since it’s the weekend and all.”

Dan tries not to let that go to his head, but it does. He still can’t believe that Phil wants him, even with all the ways that Phil has showed him that he does.

He remembers the laundry thing again, and pouts. “I should probably do my laundry first. I don’t have any clean pants, like at all.”

“Just bring them with you,” Phil says patiently. “You can wash them while you’re here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you for laundry services,” Dan says, joking weakly.

Phil snorts a laugh at that, and Dan can’t help but think about how he got that little quirk from him. “I’m sure, Dan. Actually…” There’s some shuffling on that end of the call, and then Phil hums. “Yeah, I’ve got a couple things I need to wash as well, but not enough for a full load, so actually you’d be helping me out if you brought your things over to wash.”

There’s something about Phil’s voice that makes Dan think he might not be telling the whole truth, but he doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, he starts shuffling his clothes together so he can stuff them in a suitcase. “Okay, if you say so,” he says.

“So you’ll come over?” Phil asks, sounding excited.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in like half an hour.” Dan crouches beside his shitty little dorm bed, digging underneath to yank his suitcase out.

“Okay,” Phil replies. “Do you have money for a cab?”

“Er… I think so?” Dan says hesitantly. He’s honestly not sure.

“I’ll call you a cab and pay for it when you get here,” Phil says.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dan says. “You’re already letting me do laundry there. I’ll just take the bus.”

“I don’t want you taking the bus when you’re carrying a suitcase across town, Dan. It’s late, and there’s lots of weirdoes out there.” Phil’s voice sounds briefly far away, and then he’s back, so Dan assumes he’s set the phone down to do something. “Besides, I don’t mind. This is just good boyfriend stuff, you know.”

Dan blushes then, even all these months after they’d properly defined what was going on between them. “I don’t know, actually. You’re the first one I’ve ever had, silly.”

Phil laughs. “Then I get to show you how it’s done, alright?”

Dan grins. “Alright. I’m gonna finish packing up all my shit, and I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay. I’m going to call the cab company in just a sec and I’ll let you know when they’ll be there.”

“M’kay,” Dan says, tossing clothes into his suitcase with absolutely no finesse to it.

“Alright. See you soon. Love you,” Phil says.

They’ve only been saying that to each other for a couple months now, but it still makes Dan’s heart race like it’s the first time he’s ever heard it.

“I love you too,” he replies, smiling down at his suitcase. “See you in a bit.”

~~~

It’s close to an hour later when the cab pulls up outside Phil’s apartment building, and Dan is itching to get out and smother him in kisses. He knows that he won’t, not until they’re well behind closed doors, but “I love you” is a broken record in his mind, and Dan wants to show it.

Phil is waiting on the pavement like he said he would be, and he grins when the cab stops in front of him. The cabbie turns to Dan expectantly, but Phil steps forward and taps gently on the window, a few pound notes held in his hand. The driver rolls down his window immediately, completely ignoring Dan now that he’s figured out where the money is coming from.

Dan climbs out of the car, dragging his bulky suitcase out behind him while Phil exchanges pleasantries with the driver. It’s a short interaction, and Phil says a polite thank you and goodbye when he sees Dan waiting for him on the pavement.

“Hi,” he says with a grin, clearly mocking their earlier conversation.

Dan smiles. “Hi,” he parrots. He spares a glance at where the cab driver is pulling away from the curb, and seeing that they’re effectively alone, he steps closer, poking Phil’s hand with his pinky. “Can I have a kiss when we get inside?” He asks, almost shy.

Phil gives him a soft, sweet smile. “Of course you can,” he says. “Come on, I��ve ordered some pizza and I don’t want to have an awkward run-in with the pizza man out here.”

~~~

“You should probably separate those,” Phil says from somewhere behind Dan. He’s supposed to be cleaning up the pizza boxes while Dan situates his laundry, but of course he isn’t.

Dan huffs, continuing to shove his jeans in the washer with the rest of his clothes. “No, it’s fine, I wash them together all the time.”

“That’s probably why your pants always shrink right after you buy them,” Phil says, sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated.

Something about his tone, or maybe the words themselves, make Dan tense. He tosses a glare over his shoulder, and almost can’t maintain it with the way Phil is smiling at him. “Alright, Mum. I’m not a child, I can do my fucking laundry just fine.”

The smile slips from Phil’s face and Dan knows the bitterness in his tone didn’t quite go unnoticed like he’d thought. “Babe…” Phil says softly.

“Don’t,” Dan snaps. And like the child he is, Dan feels himself tearing up, his eyes hot and prickly for no reason.

Before Dan can hide his face in shame, Phil steps closer. Dan expects him to hold him in some way, so he’s surprised when instead, Phil grips his hip and gently guides him away from the washing machine.

“Let me help,” he says gently. He leans down and begins tugging everything out, and Dan just watches, using the freedom from his gaze to wipe under his eyes and get his face back under control.

“I’m sorry,” Dan mumbles into the awkward silence of the room.

Phil glances back at him with a smile. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

Dan fidgets with his hands for a minute, watching as Phil separates his laundry for him. “Can you…” Dan begins, before going quiet again.

“Can I what?” Phil asks, pausing his movements.

Dan huffs. “Can you show me how to do that? Or like, make me a chart of what goes in which wash?”

Phil smiles at him. “Of course. Do you want me to explain why I’m sorting it this way now?” It’s an oddly genuine and considerate question, and Dan finds himself a little in awe with how much he appreciates it.

“Yeah, please,” Dan says, lowering himself to sit in the kitchen floor, sitting criss-cross as he watches Phil work.

“So usually you want to separate your pants and socks from your jeans-“ he starts, shaking a pair of Dan’s boxer-briefs as he speaks.

Dan interrupts him almost immediately. “But it’s all black. Aren’t you supposed to separate them into lights and darks?”

Phil smiles, but shakes his head, ever so patient with him as always. “Not always. Since the material is different, it washes on different types of cycles. And if you wash and dry your pants with this stuff, they’ll shrink.”

Dan nods slowly. “That’s why you hang them up on that- what’s it called?”

“Mum calls it an airer but it’s just a drying rack,” Phil says. He gestures off to somewhere behind Dan, his hand a weird, limp thing as he does. “Mine’s in the closet, we’ll get it out in a bit. So for the pants we want to put them on a delicate wash cycle, but make sure you put it on warm, about 40 Celsius, to make sure it’s actually clean. Then-“

Dan groans. “Can I just wear your pants? This is a lot of work.”

Phil shakes his head, but is clearly hiding a smirk. “No. You need to know how to do these things, Daniel.”

“Do I really?” Dan whines, scooting over and resting his head against Phil’s shoulder. “Couldn’t I just… stay with you forever and let you take care of it instead?” He says sweetly.

Phil kisses his forehead gently. “You can definitely stay with me forever. But you’ve gotta learn how to do laundry if this is gonna work.”

Dan blinks at the casual way Phil agrees to a forever with him. Even if it’s a joke, it makes Dan’s head spin. Still, he wants to grumble some more about how much work laundry is, but he knows that Phil is right. “Fine,” he mumbles, resigned. “And for the jeans?”

~~~

2021

i can do basic pants and socks on ‘delicates’ cupboard dry right?

Dan chews his lip as he waits for a response, staring at the drying machine with a look of reproach. Stupid laundry day. Stupid pants. Phil sits around playing fortnight with all his bits out sometimes, Dan doesn’t understand why they can’t just make that a household rule.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he’s quick to unlock it and read the response Phil has sent.

Umm I’d just do socks and towels

Pants shrink

Dan swears when he reads that. Stupid fucking laundry rules. Who makes this shit up?

fuck

where’s the bloody drying rack thing

Phil doesn’t answer immediately, so Dan sighs and begins digging the clothes back out of the dryer, separating the pants from the socks, towels, and the T-shirt that had somehow made its way into this load. He’s ranting in his head about how much he hates laundry when he hears footsteps behind him.

“I can do it myself,” he snarks without even turning to look at his boyfriend.

“I know,” Phil replies, and Dan hears the sound of the drying rack being unfolded and set next to the dryer. Dan is petulant still, ignoring Phil as he untangles a pair of Phil’s pants from a towel. He feels a presence close to his side, and then Phil is scooping up the pile of pants he’s got set aside already, going about hanging them up on the rack silently.

Something about the silence makes Dan’s skin itch suddenly. He’s not mad at Phil, but a niggling voice in the back of his mind suggests that maybe Phil is mad at him. After all, twelve years should be enough time for someone to learn how to do the fucking laundry.

“Are you angry with me?” Dan asks, just to fill the silence.

Phil is quiet for a moment, so Dan turns, watching him as he finishes hanging up the last two pairs of pants. As soon as he’s done, he turns and steps closer to Dan, wrapping his arm around Dan’s waist and leaning in to kiss his neck. “No, babe, I’m not angry with you. I told you I could do laundry today though, so why…” he pulls back to give Dan a look, quirking an eyebrow.

Dan squirms under his gaze. “I dunno. I just figured I’d do it, get it out of the way. You’re busy doing other stuff and I felt like I needed to be productive.”

Phil frowns. “You have been productive. You emailed people today and you wrote our grocery list.”

Dan scoffs. “Yeah, real stressful fuckin work there, writing a grocery list and sending another fucking email that won’t be answered.”

Phil’s quiet for a moment, reaching up and stroking Dan’s curls gently. “Baby,” he says softly. He kisses Dan’s cheek.

He doesn’t say anything else, and Dan- Dan can’t take it anymore. He slumps, all the fight draining out of him as he rests his head against Phil’s shoulder. “Sorry,” Dan whispers.

It’s quiet for a moment, Phil just holding him gently, rubbing his back and rocking him slowly. “You made me coffee and toast this morning.” He kisses Dan’s neck as he says it. “You made up the bed, even though after last night we should probably wash those sheets…” he muses, trailing off with another absent-minded kiss to Dan’s throat.

Dan snorts. “I’ll take them off the bed if you’ll sort them out in the washing machine?” He suggests softly, kissing Phil’s shoulder. The kisses Phil’s been littering his neck with are starting to put him in a mood, one that he can’t do anything about until the fucking laundry is sorted.

“Deal,” Phil laughs. There’s another pause, then he speaks again. “You called the doctor back for me,” Phil says quietly. “Because you knew I didn’t think I could handle it today.”

Dan shrugs at that. “You’re my favorite person. And if those fucking doctors don’t figure out what’s making my favorite noggin all wonky, I’ll-“

Phil silences him with a firm kiss on the mouth. “You’ve been productive today,” he says simply, ignoring Dan entirely. He kisses him again.

“Okay,” Dan says. He doesn’t really agree with Phil, but productive doesn’t mean the same thing anymore, since the world is basically on fire, along with all his projects. Maybe he should have kept his old branding after all. He kisses Phil’s jaw, littering the two-day old stubble with kisses and soft kitten licks as he goes, trying to get Phil as worked up as he is.

If his labored breathing is any indication, Dan is successful.

“Let me finish the laundry, baby, and then I need to finish some work.”

Dan whines like a wounded animal, and watches the way it affects Phil, his eyes dilating. “And then?” Dan prompts.

Phil kisses him again, this time wetter and longer than the last. “And then we can ruin those sheets some more.”

Dan grins into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Phil’s shoulders tightly. “Okay, but you’re washing them.”

#phan #phanfiction #laundry fic #inspired by what do dan and phil text each other 2 #texts #2009 x 2021

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survey--s · 1 year

Text

423.

What were an average day’s tasks at your favorite job you’ve had so far? That would be my current job - normally I would do between 4-5 dog walks depending on the day, so an average day would start at 8.30am. I’d take Archie with me and collect my first dog/s, do walk one, then drop the dogs home and take Archie to my in-laws. Then it would be walks 2-5, sometimes I’d take Archie on the last walk too depending on timings and which dogs I have, then it’s back home. Some evenings I also do cat visits and horse care.

Does your house have an separate laundry room? Ha, no. We don’t have that kind of space. We just have a washer/dryer and that’s kept in the kitchen in between the sink and the oven. Do your parents still help you financially? No. My dad did give me £1500 for my birthday but I didn’t need or expect it, it’s just a nice extra. List 3 things you can see from where you’re sitting? Purrlock who’s just jumped up next to me, the TV and a can of Pepsi Max. Do you go by any nicknames? Everyone calls me Nina, which is technically a nickname.

Are you a very talkative person? Not in general, but it does depend on the topic. What stereotype about your age group do you definitely live up to? I only have a low-paid job that doesn’t require qualifications, even though I could get something better. When was the last time it rained where you live? Yesterday. It looks like it might any second. Where is your local polling place for elections? A local community centre-type place down the road. What was the topic of the last documentary you watched? I can’t remember, maybe prisons? Does your car have a backup camera? No. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? My mum got caught speeding once. I don’t think my dad ever has been. What was the last restaurant you ate at? Bodegas Tapas and Wine Bar. Are you in the same mood most days or are your emotions all over the place? Generally I’m in the same mood most days. Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? All my pets are still young. I never had pets growing up either. Do you have a preferred brand of bottled water? I like San Pellegrino sparkling water, but I don’t tend to buy it often. Have you ever spilled food or drink in your car? Sure. Is your skin more oily, dry, or combination? Combination. I have an oily T-Zone but the rest is prone to dryness, especially this time of year when I work outdoors. Have you ever been in a relationship that was progressing faster than you wanted it to? Yeah, you could say that. What kind of flooring is in the room you’re in? Carpet. Pop quiz! Who is the prime minister of Germany? Germany doesn’t have a Prime Minister. What was the last strong scent you smelled? The candle I have burning, which is called “Strudel and Spice”. Are you more prone to overthinking things, or being too impulsive? A mixture of both. I tend to overthink the minor things and I’m impulsive over the stuff that’s actually important. When was the last time you wore an article of clothing that wasn’t yours? I can’t remember. Which one of your friends do you see the least often? Hmm, Mandy probably. Do you know anyone with a life-threatening food allergy? Not so far as I know. When was the last time you were outside? Yesterday morning when we took the dog for a walk. Who was the last person you sent a birthday card to? How old did they turn? I don’t send birthday cards.

#survey #surveys

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 1 year

Text

054 of 2023

Do you have a reason to smile right now?

Yeah, I just came back from the sea. It was very windy, but awesome.

Do you start the shower water before or after you get in?

Before. We need our boiler to warm it up for, like, two minutes before it gets hot.

True or false: Your not sitting on a chair to use the computer right now.

True, I’m not.

Do you regret any of your past relationships?

I feel they’ve taught me something, but I only regret wasted months.

How many times have you been to a museum?

I can’t count, but I’ve only been to one in the city I live in.

How has this past week been for you?

Awesome. I travelled a bit around the province and beyond.

Is anything going to happen next month that makes you happy?

Hopefully. We’ll see.

Are you going to be getting any new pets soon?

Probably not. We already have two.

Do you like the rain?

Nah I hate rain. Belgium is rainy by nature and I just can’t get used to it.

Do you like it when stores have sales?

Who doesn’t? Always nice to save some money.

Would you rather be a Panda or Grizzly bear?

Panda, they look cool.

Do you have any of your Easter candy left over?

What? Easter was almost a year ago. I don’t have special candy for that occasion, too. We never buy it.

Is there someone on your mind that shouldn’t be?

Yeah, M. I can’t help it.

Does your ex make you mad?

No, we’re great friends.

Will you talk to someone on the phone tonight?

Why would I?

Do you like BBQ sauce?

I do, but as far as I know, every company has its own recipe.

Do the stairs in your house have carpet?

No, they don’t.

What were you doing at 9 AM this morning?

Stressing out about that door banging situation.

Can you do a twirl like a ballerina?

LMAO.

Would you rather eat 12 hot dogs or 6 hamburgers?

Either, but not in that amount omg. I barely eat.

What color is the door to your basement?

We don’t have any basement. Cellars in Belgian houses are a rarity.

Was your favorite class science because of the experiments?

Not only. By the way, we don’t have science classes in my country. We habve separete biology, chemistry, physics and all.

Do you like citrus pop or any drinks?

Yeah, Schweppes Citrus Mix is pretty cool.

Last time you wore the opposite sex’s clothing?

Never. I’m not a crossdresser.

What’s the last board game you played?

I don’t remember, must have been years ago.

What laundry detergent do you use?

Formil.

Do you trust people too easily?

No. I don’t trust people at all, unless I know them well.

Are you currently fighting with someone?

Not that I know of.

Do you hang out with your siblings friends?

No, we live too far from each other.

Last time you had butterflies in your stomach?

I don’t think I ever did. Maybe something close to it, last year with M.

Have you ever kept anything wild as a pet?

No, unless my cats count as wild XD

Do you set good examples for little kids?

Pffft. Not in the eyes of conservative people.

Does your favorite song mention a famous person’s name in it?

I don’t think so.

Are you counting down the days to anything?

Visiting my parents again, but we don’t know yet when it will happen.

Does your house have a pool?

LMAO XD it’s a tiny house built probably two centuries ago or something.

If you broke your computer, would you be able to fix it by yourself?

Easily. My secondary school diploma is computer technician.

On a scale 1-10, how much does the opposite sex confuse you?

11. Women are so complicated, and I don’t mean it in a wrong way.

When you party, do you get wild?

I used to get drunk a lot, but not anymore.

If you found a wallet full of money, what would you do?

Give it back to the owner. I always try to be fair.

Do you do cheers often?

What is that even?

Do you enjoy fishing?

No, I don’t.

Was your first job babysitting?

Thankfully not.

Did you wear a hoodie today?

I always wear a hoodie, unless it’s hot outside.

Are you embarrassed to talk about stuff with your dad?

No. I’d rather talk to him than to my mum. He’s a man like me, after all.

Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood?

No.

#survey #q&a survey #random survey

0 notes

ditttiii · 1 year

Note

Ah ditttiii~ you're so sweet! My mum isn't THAT naive! Nope, I got parental approval to deal with our entitled neighbours~!! Our laundry room window is right across from our neighbour's kitchen window. They keep their blinds open and even take down their screening so that we can literally see everything that is happening in their house, and vice versa. My house is rather dark so we do not want to close the blinds, but we also do not want to have our neighbours as part of our household. We currently have sheer curtains but it was not offering enough privacy. We offered to buy some window decorative film so that it would still be bright, but it would act as a screen on both our and our neighbour's windows. They refused. Even said that it "has never been a problem before" and that "they don't care" (cuz they literally just moved into the house so obviously it was never a problem before. Our previous neighbours had up sheer curtains, which we also have, so the two layers of curtains prevented any problems before. Unfortunately, one sheer curtain does nothing to help with privacy at the distance we have to deal with). They even said that my mum should go to an old folks home if she has such a hard time seeing with the light that we have and that she's a bitchy person who should mind her own business. My mum has the patience of a saint, but she also hates extreme confrontations. So you can imagine just how bad the discussion was between my mum and my neighbour in order for her to agree when I suggested that keep our blinds wide open and put a bunch of dildos and stuff in the windowsill where they (and their little girls) can see it. Then we put up a slightly pornographic curtain just to seal the deal. I feel kinda bad for their kiddies, but honestly the entire thing can be dealt with easily with a decorative screen. Seriously, compromise isn't hard... its not like either of us want to hire a contractor to move the position of the window!!!

Do you think I went too far? I think that they got away easy since they insulted my mum... - 🍅🍞

those are some godawful neighbours jeez what the fuck people. i have curtains over all the windows in my house too coz its just idk normal to have em?? like ofc they can keep the curtains open if they really need to for some hours but it's just common courtesy and decency to have them shut to give you guys the deserved privacy and vice-versa. does your laundry room serve as an extension of your bathroom too or are they in different corners of the house? coz if its an extension man then its all the more reason to have some drapes.

and heck no u didn't go far. i'm usually not confrontational but frustration would have made me do much worse if i was in your place, especially if they had said that shit to my mom like wtf is wrong with these people. the dildos and pornographic curtain is 🫶🤌 brilliant honestly. its smart, its funny and i have a feeling soon to result into a very effective plan. 11/10 K, you outdid yourself this time, u have gained more of my respect senpai 🥰😩❣️

#ditttiii asks #SOME PEOPLE just really dont know how to coexist and dont understand the concept of society #like go live in a fkn forest if u dont wanna cooperate with others of your own damn specie and cohabit #🍅🍞 anon

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thusspoketrish · 3 years

Text

Showers in the Malfoy-Potter Household

Domestic, tooth-rotting, fluffy Married Drarry!!! Written for the prompt Fresh over at @drarrymicrofic. 2.3K words. Thank you to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for the thorough beta xx

I. That One Time with the Gloves…

“Bugger, I need to shower!” Harry shouts to the empty sitting room as he steps through the Floo, shoulders tense as he kicks off his muddy shoes, waving his wand to send them to the hamper and clearing the residual mess on his and Draco’s Brazilian Macchiato Pecan hardwood floors. On socked feet, Harry dashes up the stairs towards their ensuite, disrobing along the way as the charmed grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway strikes 14:00.

Any minute now, Draco will Floo back in from brunch with Narcissa and Lucius—the very brunch Harry said he couldn’t attend because he pulled Sunday rotation at the Ministry. In truth, he had actually signed up for THE GREATEST WEEKEND QUIDDITCH MATCH EVER!!! between the Department of Mysteries and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry had been surprised to learn that the DoM swots were a bunch of dirty playing wankers—their self-important swagger causing a stir on the ground and a gloriously brutal match in the air. Harry’s pretty sure he bruised his ribs when he struck the muddy ground at the end of the match. But even with his injury, Harry couldn’t help the wicked grin that crossed his face when Timmons, the DoM’s Seeker, watched in horror as Harry staggered to his feet, punching his Snitch-full fist triumphantly into the air.

The glory. The power. Harry feels like a warrior—he feels like a bloody beast!

The little white lie and a skipped brunch with the in-laws were worth it!

Once in the bathroom, Harry uses his wand to send his scattered muddy clothes to the hamper downstairs and turns the water on scorching hot. Stepping under the spray, his sore muscles relax. It’s absolutely blissful, and he can’t help the happy moans that escape him as the water sluices away the mud and sweat from his highly earned, brutal win. He chuckles darkly to himself. Those wankers from the DoM will be sucking on this one for months to come.

The shower curtain is pulled to the side, starling Harry so badly that he nearly slips, his head whipping around to face his smirking husband.

Draco sticks his head into the shower, making sure to avoid the stream, his eyes flashing. “Well, well, well. Look who’s getting so fresh and so clean after a hard day’s work.”

Harry huffs, covering his nipples with both hands as he says, scandalised, “Merlin! You scared the bloody hell out of me!”

“I’m sorry,” Draco says, sounding far from it. “I was so eager to see my husband after a lengthy morning away from him that all I could think about coming up the stairs was giving him the best shower blowie he’s ever had in his entire life…”

Harry grins. “Babe, I’ve missed you so much,” he says eagerly, stepping back under the spray. “Come on, get undressed and join me.” When Draco doesn’t move, Harry gestures inward. “Come on...come now…”

“Yeah, okay. Let me just…” Draco pulls from behind his back Harry’s dirty Quidditch gloves, dropping them into the shower as Harry gasps. The fresh dirt mingles with the water, swirling down the drain. Harry could’ve sworn he sent those gloves flying into the hamper.

Draco’s smile is shark-like, eager, and ready for blood. “Imagine my surprise when these came flying into my chest on my way up the stairs. I was so curious, I decided to have a quick search of the laundry room hamper, and lo and behold, I found all of your Quidditch gear, sweaty and smelling of fresh mud and grass, darling. Must’ve been one hell of a rotation this morning, huh?”

Harry holds up his hands. “I can explain—”

“Oh, really?”

“Er, yes…” Harry starts, running a hand through his soaked hair. “Babe, it’s those wankers from the DoM’s fault! They’re a bunch of posturing arseholes and someone had to put them in their place.”

Draco crosses his arms against his chest. “Ah, right. And that someone had to be you?”

Harry smiles sheepishly, shrugging. “Well…you know I’m the best Seeker in the Corps.”

Draco harrumphs, tilting his chin up and leaning against the wall next to the shower. “So, you know what this means, right?”

Harry bows his head. “Yeah…” he says sadly, shaking his head.

“What?”

Harry sighs. “No more Mimosa Sundays at Malfoy Manor?” he asks hopefully, peeking up at Draco through his wet, shaggy hair.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know the mimosas at my parents' are bar none.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know…so, no blowie for me?”

“You’re damn right,” Draco says, yanking his head back and sharply pulling the shower curtain shut.

Harry grumbles to himself, turning back to the shower to rinse his hair. A minute or two passes before the shower curtain opens up again, a fully naked Draco stepping inside.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t start grovelling the proper way: by sucking my cock,” Draco says with a smirk.

Harry laughs, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. “How did I land such a deeply compassionate, forgiving husband?”

“With that sinful mouth of yours, obviously,” Draco drawls, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders to slowly push him down onto his knees.

II. That One Time Draco Was Trying to be Seductive...

Harry’s entering their bedroom, half an egg mayo sandwich in hand, when he notices Draco standing before the wardrobe mirror. “What are you doing?” he asks, pausing near the door.

Draco turns around, his arms spreading wide as he pops one narrow hip outward. He’s draped in an intricate floral-patterned gold bathrobe. “Do you like it? It’s new, darling. Just arrived from Italy. Rocco-inspired, heavy-weight close-knit silk lined with black satin…isn’t it gorgeous?” Draco purrs.

“Er…it’s quite something,” Harry says, biting into his sandwich.

“Neanderthal,” Draco tuts with a scowl before turning back to the mirror. He slides his hands reverently down the sides of his body as he tilts his head to the side. “It feels like fucking sex,” Draco whispers, his eyelids drooping.

Harry chokes on a bit of egg. Draco grins, ferally, as he faces Harry again.

“I have a surprise for you. Get undressed and meet me in the bathroom,” Draco says imperiously.

“Right now?” Harry asks around his sandwich, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “Why?”

Draco runs his hands down the front of his bathrobe, his eyes fluttering shut. “The things I’m going to do to you the moment you slip this robe off my body…”

That’s all Harry needs to hear as he sets his sandwich down on the nightstand to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor before levelling Draco with a heated stare and a wolfish grin. “Is that right? Well, go on, then. I’ll meet you there in a minute,” Harry says, now unbuttoning his trousers. When Draco heads towards the bathroom, Harry picks his sandwich back up and shoves the rest of it in his mouth before getting undressed.

When he’s fully naked, he opens the bathroom door, the entire room filled with fragrant steam so thick he can barely see Draco.

“Er?” Harry says, stepping into the bathroom. Draco stumbles forward, wand in hand.

“I think I may have overdone the steam a bit,” Draco says before promptly pitching forward. Harry misses him by just an inch because he can’t bloody see, and Draco lands face first on their tiled floor.

“I thought it would be sexy,” Draco whines from his position on the floor in Harry’s lap after Harry Rennervates him. There’s a red patch on his forehead and a trickle of blood coming out of his left nostril that Harry cleans up immediately.

“You were! You were so sexy,” Harry urges softly.

“But there was no arse groping. No kissing. No fucking. It was all so unpleasant!” Draco cries.

“Aw, babe. I’m sorry. I think we should take you to St Mungo’s just in case…”

Draco sighs, sitting up but swaying slightly. “Fine. Alright. But let’s not tell them the visit is due to my failed attempt at seduction.”

Harry stifles a laugh. “Of course not. C’mere,” he says, helping Draco to his feet. “You can seduce me after the Healer has ruled out a concussion, okay?”

“Okay. But only if you promise to take my new bathrobe off with your teeth later…”

III. That One Time with the Mongrel…

Draco’s writing out a pros and cons list to determine if they’ll be purchasing a cottage in Cornwall this summer when Harry appears in front of him, a black towel cradled against his chest that’s moving.

Draco quirks an eyebrow. “What in the fresh hell is wrong with that towel?”

Harry chuckles and pulls the towel back. Pressed against his chest is a tiny, muddy little Beagle.

“No,” Draco says firmly, setting his quill down.

“Wait! Don’t be so quick about it! C’mon, babe, she was all alone in the alley by the Ministry! No mum or dad in sight. I couldn’t leave her there!”

Draco closes his eyes against the utterly heartbroken look in Harry’s eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, Harry would bring home an orphan, Draco had been preparing himself for this day since they married four years ago, only, he thought said orphan would be a wee babe, not a filthy mongrel. He exhales, nods, and opens his eyes, hand dropping away from his face. “Okay. Well. I refuse to have this mongrel in our house looking and smelling the way it does.”

Harry’s face lights up as if Draco has promised him the moon, and the stars, and all the love in his entire being. All over again.

“So, can we keep her?” Harry asks excitedly.

“Yes, Harry. We can keep her.”

Harry surges forward to press a kiss against Draco’s mouth, taking Draco off guard but aiming perfectly, nonetheless. Draco can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat as Harry begins to litter kisses all over his face, the mongrel caught between them. “You’re going to love her, I promise. Just look at her! She’s bloody adorable, isn’t she?” Harry says, holding the beast out to Draco.

Draco’s nose scrunches up as the dark-eyed creature stares up at him. She’s so small she could fit in Draco’s cupped hands, but her smell is atrocious. “Sure…” Draco says slowly, leaning away.

Harry hums happily. “I think we should name her—”

“—Beasty,” Draco interrupts, gaze flickering up to Harry. Harry rolls his eyes.

“No, silly! We should name her Pepper. Because she sorta smells like black pepper.”

Draco wants to suggest to Harry that perhaps they need to visit St Mungo’s to get his nose examined, because the last time Draco checked, black pepper smelled absolutely nothing like faeces. But he refrains, the joyous look on Harry’s face well worth going along with the madness.

“Sure, darling, whatever you want. Pepper it is. But she’s going to need a bath.”

Harry nods. “Right, yes, let’s take her upstairs to our bathroom.”

Draco smiles tightly. “Ah, no. I just had that tub put in. I don’t want this mong—Pepper staining the porcelain.”

“Oh, right, right. Okay, well, we can bathe her in the tub down here.”

Draco links his fingers together over his list. “Yes, excellent idea. So,” he starts, eyeing the now droopy-eyed, stinky monster. “Should we use a Petrificus Totalus or—?”

“DRACO!” Harry gasps, looking completely horrified. “We can’t put Pepper in a full body bind, are you insane? She’s a puppy!”

Draco frowns, his eyebrows knitting together. “She’s covered in grime and you expect me to manoeuvre this beast into the tub with its full cooperation?”

Harry glares at him. “She’s the sweetest thing, and I’m sure we won’t have any problems getting her into the bath, okay? Just follow my lead.”

Draco shrugs. Harry hasn’t led him astray yet.

When they finally enter the downstairs bathroom, tub now full of water at the perfect temperature and a mild soap, Draco suddenly gets an armful of Pepper as Harry begins to shed his jacket and jumper.

Draco stares down at her.

She is quite cute, with her large, bulbous black eyes, long, floppy ears, and wee-frowny mouth. Draco believes he can actually come to love this gross little beasty.

“Let’s get you all fresh and clean, sweetie,” Harry says, taking her back from Draco to place her in the water.

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

As Harry struggles to keep a hold on her, Pepper lifts her paws away from the water as if it’s fire, wild yelps escaping her as she struggles out of Harry’s grasp, dropping into the water first before lunging straight at Draco.

Draco catches her, her tiny little body soaking through his very nice, very clean jumper.

“Fucking fuck, fuck…” Draco mutters, staring down at Pepper, warmth exploding in his chest. She’s shivering against him and the anger and shock immediately leave his body as he cradles her, a defeated groan escaping him as a section of his heart unlocks and opens up to this little beasty.

Harry laughs. “Merlin, you are just so bloody adorable,” he says.

Draco scoffs, even as he stares down fondly at her, rocking her in his arms. “She’s a menace, that’s what she is.”

“No…I mean you,” Harry says, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses, cheeks dimpled. Draco can feel the heat of a blush spilling across his cheeks as Harry leans forward to kiss him. When they part, Harry glances down at Pepper before meeting Draco’s eyes.

“We’re building our little family,” Harry says proudly.

Draco opens his mouth to say something mocking, but can’t, not with the ball of emotion that’s suddenly lodged in his throat. Instead, he blinks several times, glancing down at Pepper who’s staring up at him with her large eyes, tail wagging.

“Oh,” Draco says softly. “I suppose we are.” He sniffs. “I think it’s best if we get Beasty Pepper to the vet instead, maybe they can help us give her a proper bath. Shall we?”

Draco smiles as Harry drapes an arm around his shoulders. “Yes, let’s do it, babe,” Harry responds tenderly.

#drarrymicrofic #Drarry Microfic #Drarry fic #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Drarry #Drarry Squad #short fic #fluff #so much fluff #established relationship #harry x draco #married drarry #All fluff and zero pain #which I'm finna embrace as my new normal #hahahaha

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papipopsicle · 3 years

Text

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

#fanfic #fanfiction #riverdale #archie andrews #archie x reader #archie andrews x reader #archie #Riverdale imagine #riverdale fluff #riverdale smut #riverdale imagines #archie imagine #fluff #smut

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Air

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding.

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend.

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis.

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd.

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face.

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender.

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her.

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes.

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head.

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me.

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?”

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go.

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?”

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand.

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs.

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?”

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest.

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?”

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body.

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant.

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

His lopsided smile takes my breath away.

#chudleycanonficfest #chudley canon fest #hp canon pairings #hp canon romantic pairings #romione #side hinny #source: zurisenchantedquill

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

Discussion

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT

COUPLE BENNY WATTS X READER

RATING SWEET

I stood as I often did beside the area folding a thousand of the same green, black, and grey shirts, black and blue jeans and various boxer shorts from our laundry and of course my clothes too. I looked over across our little basement apartment spotting Benny sat in his battered leather chair sitting under the little light, his mess of hair out of place where he'd showered and just let it dry naturally, his black t shirt hugging him, his chains across his chest, his hand on his chin as he focused intently on the book in his hand, his jeans tight as usual his belt somewhere I didn't know his bare feet sat on our cold basement floor.

"Benny?" I asked as I folded one of his grey shirts

"Ummmm?" He groans not even looking up from his book

"Can I ask you something?"

"One minute" he says still not looking up, I waited a minute or so and he put his bookmark in the page shutting the book up "what's up pumpkin?"

"May I be rude?"

"I think so. You have only got three of those left this month but fire away"

"Why do you dress like a goth cowboy?"

"I don't know" he shrugs

"Benny, come on"

"I do not like spending alot of money on clothes so most of what I wear is hand me down stuff or just stuff I got cheap" he explained "I kinda just thought my style was chess themed really"

"Kinda. That's why we have a chess board rug and bedding"

"To be fair I didn't buy that bedding you bought that bedding when you moved in with me"

"It fit the aesthetic"

"... Yes. I have been dating you six years and I still don't know what that word means"

"I like using words you don't understand, makes me feel smart."

"Your smart pumpkin. I would not have dated you if you were an idiot"

"No?"

"I don't like the blank girls there useless, your basically dating a doll up doll with a voice box who takes your money"

"I think it has something to do with upbringing" I said as I returned my focus to the laundry

"What does?"

"The way you dress. Was your dad a cowboy and your mum a goth?" I asked

".... No. Other way around actually"

"Really?"

"Yeah, my mum grew up on a farm in maine my dad was a new york city bar owner who hosted pagan covens every other Tuesday"

"Hu. Cowgirl and a goth man. That does explain you… way more than it should to be honest Benny" I giggled taking the laundry to our bedroom "you were kinda scary when we first met"

"How so?" He asks following me to the bedroom

"You turned up to our first date in black boots, black jeans, a green button down, black trench coat, a knife and a cowboy hat."

"Yeah? It's my second favorite outfit?"

"To a blind date in a new york and you wonder why I was a little scared?"

"I wasn't gonna murder you."

"Thank you Benny very reassuring" I giggled "why did you bring a knife on our first date?"

"Incase I needed it" he says helping with the laundry as I had been putting all his clothes just in a pile for him "and it's a conversation starter"

"And then taking said date back to your serial killer basement apartment"

"Okay I admit it was kinda serial killer ish. Before you moved in"

"I un serial killered the place" I giggled

"You added a lovely ladies touch. And I'm sure you will to wherever we get moved too"

"Of we can find somewhere we agreed on"

"All I said Is I want an on suite and a driveway that can't be that hard"

"You'd be surprised when you refuse to live outside of new york, and what is your obsession with on suites Benny?"

"A having a shower in a living room is fun now because I get to watch you shower but it's impractical"

"And so unsanitary"

"B our bedroom is here, the toilet is over there in that room. You can tell you have never attempted to walk that distance at three am with an erection"

"Like the time you tripped on the box for the bookshelf you hadn't put together yet and ended up breaking that bone in your foot"

"Precisely. That and then we have a nice little space that's all ours especially after… you know"

"After what?"

"After..." he smirked, giving me a cuddle "we get married and have a little baby girl."

"Not till we've moved Benny"

"I know pumpkin" he says, kissing my cheek "coffee?"

"Yeah alright," I smiled so he went making come coffee and I gathered up the laundry on the floor into my basket I just emptied being quick as he was distracted to steal his kimono slipping it in my basket and heading to the Machine "when we move can I have a kitten?"

"No. We've talked about this it'll knock my chess stuff over" he explained as I loaded the machine

"What about a puppy?"

"Will you walk it everyday?"

"We will walk it everyday. Together. Maybe while we push a pram too"

"And what do we do with the puppy when we need to fly to France or new mexico?"

"... Dog sitter?"

"Nope"

"What about a fish?"

"I'm not paying for food and tank maintenance for a damn decoration"

"A hamster?"

"There nocturnal so you'll never see it"

"A bunny?"

"Maybe. I'll think about it pumpkin. What are you doing?" He stopped noticing what I was doing instantly stealing his kimono back before I could put it on the machine

"Benny. You have to let me wash it at some point. I haven't washed it in three months."

"It's not dirty?"

"You dropped coffee on it yesterday"

"So?"

"You walk around naked in it"

"So?"

"It was laid on our bed and we had sex on it the other night"

"It's not dirty"

"Benny you either hand me that to put it in the washing machine or I throw you and it on the bathtub and wash you by hand"

"Maybe I want my little girlfriend to give me a nice bath"

"This would not be sexy. It would be functional"

"Your mean to me" he pouts handing it over

"Because I love you" I smiled giving him a kiss

"Love you too pumpkin"

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gucciwins · 3 years

Text

Frosty the Snowman

Harry and Y/N love the holiday season but Harry takes the teasing a bit to far and well Y/N decides to give it right back.

Word Count: 5126

A/N: hello! thank you so much to @goldenbluesuit for organizing this wonderful christmas fic challenge. thank you for allowing me to participate, kate. i’m so happy i got to be a part of it. merry christmas and happy holidays to you all. sending you all a big hug and lots of love.

_____

Christmas has never been much of importance in your life.

That was until you began dating Harry.

Harry and his family loved celebrating in particular because Harry was gone for so many months of the year. They loved giving gifts, and Harry loved spoiling his family. He was a true family man who loved to be doted on by his mother and teased relentlessly by his older sister. His smile never leaves his face when he's with them.

Ever since Harry found out how you spent the holidays alone drinking wine and hot chocolate on and off and binging all the best holiday movies. He declared that was not acceptable and that furthermore and until the end of time you would be spending it with him and his family.

The first year was something out of a storybook, a house full of kids and adults, Christmas music all day, and a big festive dinner. Gifts passed around, photos being taken to be added to the end of year scrapbooks. Lots of stories being told; honestly, it overwhelmed you.

Anne found you outside wrapped up in Harry's coat that you swiped before slipping out unseen. She stood next to you, overlooking her garden with you. "My son loves you; he's brought you here not to overwhelm you but to let you know that you have a family here, and you always will." You let your tears run free, feeling comforted, and loved. "I've never seen him shine as bright as he does when he's with you and when he's speaking of you. We all want you here as much as he does." Anne then pulled you into a long hug, the motherly hug you never got growing up. Reminded you not to stay out too long.

Three Christmases later, you now take part in family traditions, helping Anne cook dinner and staying in sweats and playing family games all of Boxing Day.

It's what makes your move to London with your boyfriend of four years easy. Knowing they want you there, knowing that the love Harry has for you won't fade, you've gone through many hurdles together, and it only strengthened your bond to one another.

Four years together, and you're still learning new things about each other, like Harry having to have coffee first thing in the morning, bread was a must-have always in the house, and that he owned more mugs than he needed. He picked up that you adored your shoes, meaning you wouldn't throw them out until they were ripped and beat up enough for a new pair. Also learned that you rather eat lots of fruit during the day than making food in the kitchen because it meant more dishes that would be needed to wash. You loved doing the laundry, Harry knew it was to steal his shirts, but he didn't mind. He always knew where to find them.

The one thing that really surprised him was your love for Christmas music; you knew every song, maybe couldn't remember the name, but you would be able to sing it. It never failed to make him smile; you even knew ‘Feliz Navidad’ and didn't butcher it as he did.

Your love for Christmas music was signified because you never celebrated the holiday, and music was easy to access. It was what you immersed yourself in.

This is why Harry is confused when he hears you begin to sing ‘Frosty the Snowman’ under your breath, then switching to a soft hum in the tune of the song as you start to place your freshly washed sweats in their drawers.

Harry was not sure why you did that; you loved singing out loud. You had a decent voice, as you liked to say, but why switch.

You're clueless to Harry watching you, deep in thought, trying his best to analyze you.

Then Harry gasps; it all clicks, making sense.

You raise your head to look at him, shutting the drawer with your hip. "What?"

"You don't know the lyrics." Harry accuses.

"To what?" You step towards the bed, wanting to finish the rest of this to finally go down and each lunch.

"Frosty the Snowman."

"I do." You defend.

Harry smirks, crossing his arms. "Prove it."

"No."

"Why not?"

You frown before taking a deep breath and begin to hum the song correctly to Harry.

"Okay, you know the tune, now the lyrics." He gestures for you to go on.

"Frosty the snowman..." Your voice dies down, you rake your brain for the correct lyrics, sending a smaller prayer you're right. "had a shiny nose?"

"Oh, this is golden, love." He's laughing now. It's filling up the room.

"Harry," You whine.

"You call yourself the Christmas Queen." Harry is holding his stomach, his laughter getting to be too much. "Next, you're going to tell me you don't know the lyrics to 'All I Want For Christmas Is You.'"

"How dare you, that came out in our birth year." You're over making fun of you.

"Okay fine, but really so many years, and you never learned. You said you love all Christmas music, and well, that's a classic, dove."

You run a hand through your hair, your fingers getting caught on the tips for not brushing it out. "I never actually got to make a snowman, so I never listened to the lyrics."

"Are you secretly a Grinch as well?" Harry teases.

You throw a balled-up shirt of his and hit him square in the face; it quiets him down. "Conversation over."

You walk out of the room, leaving him alone, to his chuckling.

_____

In your home, something was always baking.

It was either Harry trying to better his last bread or you baking a new vegan cake that Gemma sent you.

It's something you both loved to do.

For you, though, it was your own form of meditation. No matter the time of day, if you felt your head spinning, you'd just head to the kitchen and begin to take out ingredients letting that be your only focus. The Great British Baking Show also brings a lot of comfort to you, Harry happily laying his head on your lap, your hand running through his hair as you just let the show play on and on.

Now, you're in the kitchen for a whole other reason; you're baking gingerbread cookies, from snowflakes to snowman and even little reindeer. Harry has invited friends over for a fun holiday decorating party. It sounded like a good idea until he left you to do it all yourself as he ran errands that he pushed off for a week.

Thankfully, there were no distractions during the time it took you to make one hundred cookies because there would be casualties during the decorating. Just as you were putting the last dozen on the cooling rack, does your phone ring causing it to cut off Paul McCartney's singing of 'Wonderful Christmastime.'

As you pick it up to answer, you check the caller id and see that it's Gemma calling.

Gemma forgoes a greeting and goes straight to the reason for her call.

"You don't know 'Frosty the Snowman!'" She exclaims more than asks.

"I'm going to kill him." You groan into the phone.

Gemma laughs, "No, no, please don't. Mum likes you too much to see you behind bars."

"Gem, he's been relentless." Thinking back to the past few days and how he'd randomly come up to you and just begin to sing the lyrics to you, not shutting up until you tickled him too much to continue. "Please don't let it come up later."

"I've got you," Gemma assures you.

"Thank you."

"As long," Gemma begins, but you groan jokingly into the phone.

"Go on," You sigh, knowing this is how the eldest Styles sibling acts.

"As long as you tell me what Harry bought mum for Christmas."

"Alright, fair." Very well, Harry would most likely spoil this himself the closer the holiday arrives.

Just as you were about to spoil Harry's gift, he walks through the kitchen, saved by the devil himself. "I'll tell you later when you get here." You tell Gemma, smiling at Harry as you bid his sister goodbye.

"Who was it, love?" Harry asks, kissing you lightly on your lips, being able to taste the gingerbread on your lips that makes him beeline to the cooled cookies.

"Gems, a huge birdie told her I don't know the lyrics to a popular song." You lean against the counter, smiling as he has a cookie in hand already; he is also a big reason you made so many.

"Hey," He says, offended, a cookie half shoved in his mouth. "I'm not huge."

"Never said it was you, hun." You smirk. "Thanks for fessing up."

He pouts, not liking that you outsmarted him.

"Might want to watch the cookies." You pinch his love handles, snatching what was left of the cookie from his hand and heading upstairs.

Harry watches you walk away, upset that you stole his cookie; also, he knows you love his winter gains.

_____

You and Harry are up fairly early, he likes to go on a run around the neighborhood, but you like going to the park. This morning you skipped your run because Harry was meeting up with a friend for breakfast.

Sure, you got up at your usual time at 7am and began to prepare yourself breakfast. You usually drank coffee with Harry and seeing as he wasn't here, you decided to skip it, instead going straight to the fridge to get the fruits and orange juice to make a smoothie. Something simple, not wanting to clean much after.

As you finally settled on the couch, getting ready to read Educated by Tara Westover, a book Gemma recommended to her then gifted to her. Tara's memoir is her story of how she comes from a Mormon background and recounts how she educated herself to go to college and learn about the world. It's a Friday, and what better way to spend it lost in a book.

You had just flipped it open when your phone rang, alerting you to a message. As much as you didn't want to check because you were finally in a comfortable position, you knew it could easily be Harry checking in who gets worried about not getting a reply even five minutes after. He's a worrier at heart.

As you retrieve it and settle yourself back down, not at all comfortable anymore, you see it's a message from Iz. She was the first friend you made on your own that Harry didn't introduce you to. Iz saw you at a coffee shop you began to frequent and complimented your tote bag that had wildflowers embroidered on it. You thanked her and shared you made it. Iz was shocked, just throwing compliment after compliment. You offered to make her one, but she said you had better teach her instead. Thus, a friendship began.

Her message read:

Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Listen in!

It was definitely a strange message coming from Iz, but you did as told.

Greg James was saying goodbye to his special guest, no idea who it was. "Before he signs off, he's going to play you one of his favorite Christmas songs," Greg says, then silences, allowing his guest a moment before speaking.

"This week's Christmas song is in honor of my girlfriend who loves singing Frosty the Snowman... without knowing the lyrics. Happy Holidays."

Your jaw drops.

That your boyfriend's voice. You are the girlfriend.

He went on record.

Harry really went on live radio to tell thousands that you don't know the lyrics to a Christmas classic.

You want to laugh because you never expected this from him and are annoyed that something personal now the whole world will know by the end of the day.

You can't wait until he arrives home.

"Harry Edward Styles!" You yell as you hear Harry open the front door.

He looks sheepish. "Yes, my darling angel."

"You told me you were having breakfast with Greg James, not that you were going to be on the Breakfast show."

"I took muffins, and they provided coffee, therefore, breakfast." Harry defends

"You exposed me to all of the UK to not knowing 'Frosty the Snowman.'"

"No one knows you're my girlfriend." Harry tries to brush it off.

"We've been dating four years; I'm not that much of a secret. Anne posts me on her story from time to time, and your friends follow my Instagram, fuck; you've introduced me to Greg." You're not angry, more annoyed than anything because he won't let this go.

"It's just to give everyone a good laugh; no one is going to hold it against you."

"No, just my boyfriend and everyone who listens to the Breakfast Show." You cross your arms before storming up the stairs away from Harry.

"Love? You're not actually mad, right?" Harry asks, pushing the bedroom door open.

"You even got Iz on it!" Your turn around with a pout on your face.

Harry laughs. "I honestly thought she wouldn't go through with it."

"Well, I see where her loyalty lies."

Harry steps close and pulls you into his chest. You sigh, wrapping your arms around him. He knows how much you love his hugs.

"I promise this is the last I mention of it."

You frown into his chest, not at all believing him. Harry pats your bum, and you take that as the queue to look up at him. He's smiling down at you, leaning in to give you a quick peck. "I promise."

"Okay, then." You lean in and kiss him, firmer this time and much longer. Harry sneaks his tongue in, instantly getting a moan out of you.

"I know how you can make it up to me." You gasp, pulling away,

Harry raises an eyebrow at you. "Do tell."

A smirk on both your faces as you guide him to the bed, very much hungry for something that wasn't breakfast.

_____

Harry has the Christmas playlist running; it's a Sunday, meaning they spend it at home doing absolutely nothing. To be truthful, they rolled out of bed past ten and still have their pj's on. Not at all bothering to change, why waste more clothes if no one will see them like this in the comfort of their own home.

You cooked grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and now are playing a game of scrabble.

Harry puts down the word 'light,' then reaching his hand into the black pouch to pick five letters to have seven once again. You are looking back and forth between the board and your letters, thinking of the best place to place your word.

"I've got a question," Harry says, looking at you, wanting all your attention as well.

"What is it?" You're focused on your letters. Rearranging them, not putting down the 'q' in your hand. It's currently useless but will eventually give you a word to win the game. Not that you both ever keep points, oh no, that stopped after you beat harry 120 to 66, and he flipped the board, causing letters to fly everyone. You still claim that there are missing letters.

"Frosty is a cute name."

"Reminds me of that Wendy's dessert. I'm still not sure what made it so good." You say, maybe you should get up and eat some. Harry did just pick up new flavors that he had been wanting to try something about them being richer in flavor.

"You're getting off track."

"Sorry, Frosty is cute for what?" You don't let him answer before you're speaking again. "A dog, did you get a dog?" You pause, looking up at him, "a cat, did Anne find a stray and wants to give them to us?" You wait, but Harry is about to crush all your excitement.

"None of that." He shakes his head at you, and disappointment fills you immediately.

"Well, can this conversation end then? I'm disappointed."

"Darling," Harry chastises you for not letting him go on.

"Go on then, mate." You gesture him to continue. Shifting your attention away from the game in front of you.

Harry frowns, his eyebrows pinching together in the sweet way that makes you want to rub them out until he's relaxed. "Why'd you call me, mate?"

"Oh, I've called you this before." You brush off Harry's reactions; he's always dramatic.

"I'm not your friend." He states.

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head and really look at Harry. "Well, of course, you are boyfriend," You emphasize, dragging out the word. "You're my best friend."

"You can't say boyfriend anymore. I'm your fiancé now." Harry states proudly, but you feel a little dumbfounded, not knowing why he is saying that.

Your eyes widen when you look down at your left hand, and no ring rests on your left ring finger.

"Fuck, I missed your proposal, and the ring got lost." You pout, trying your best to stop the smirk from coming out.

"Darling, I'm sorry." Harry quickly apologizes. "I'm still your boyfriend, but I will be proposing soon." He promises. "Shit, you were supposed to not even know. I really am bad at hiding things."

"Fuck, you really are." You laugh, "but boyfriend sounds cute. Can't I still say boyfriend when you do?"

"Doesn't fiancé sound nicer?" Harry tries.

You shrug. "Not as fun, husband is nice."

"You're rejecting my future proposal, then." Harry is teasing, and you can tell by the sparkle in his forest eyes.

"Of course not, you dummy. You can be my fiancé and my boyfriend." You tell him like it was the most obvious answer.

"Seems like a lot of work."

"Rude." You stick your tongue at him.

"Right, love, well try to remember I'm your husband once we're married, no more boyfriend."

"I will, hubby. You're going to be my hubby."

You both go silent.

You burst out laughing, "That's awful, I hate it."

Harry chuckles, nodding his head. "Yeah, I do as well."

"This is why I'm the brains in the relationship."

"Right," Harry rolls his eyes at you, not at all agreeing.

"Uh, darling, I went to uni and got two degrees while you only finished school at sixteen before going off to steal millions of hearts around the world."

"Including yours." He teases.

"I was always more a Zayn girl." You correct him.

Harry throws his arms up, "Can never let me win, can you?"

"Nope"

"We're off-topic." Harry realizing how far they strayed from their starting point.

"Where did we start?"

"Frosty."

You sit back, resting against the couch; you take him in and smile at how cuddly he looks in the purple robe that he stopped letting you use. "Well, go on."

"Seeing as-" He pauses, hearing the familiar opening notes to the song he was thinking of. 'Frosty, the Snowman' is now his favorite song. "Perfectly timed, as you don't know the lyrics to Frosty the snowman."

"Gosh, you're never going to let this go," You grumble.

"Nope. I figured we will have a little fun with this."

"More fun than the breakfast show."

He gives you a pointed look.

You let out a long sigh, "Let's hear it."

"You learn all the lyrics and sing it for me, and I'll let you get us a dog or cat." Harry's grinning at his idea, knowing you'll agree without a fight.

"Can we go to the shelter?" You look like a kid on Christmas morning who had just received their presents from Santa, and in a way, you have.

"Yes, we can. Only if you can learn the entire song." Harry tells you again, wanting to emphasize the singing.

"Done deal."

"Great, I'm giving you a week."

You smile wide, nodding, looking, finally focusing back down at your words and the ones Harry has placed. You put down the word 'queen,' and this wins you the non-official game. Harry looks down at his poorly hidden score sheet and curses under his breath.

"I win."

Safe to say you lost more letters that day.

_____

It's been a week, and Harry is patiently waiting on their bed as you get ready in your shared closet. Your shared closet is large and mainly holds all of Harry's clothing. You definitely have a nice share of clothes filled with gifts from friends as well as Harry's friends and your treasured thrifted pieces. You smile at yourself in the full-length mirror.

Harry really can't begin to imagine what you have in store for him.

The speaker is set out and ready, and all that is needed is for you to make your entrance.

You shake out your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the nerves. You look yourself over one last time before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open.

"Close your eyes." You call out.

Harry rolls his eyes but does as he is told.

You walk over to the speaker and press play, letting the music fill the room, making your way to stand in front of Harry, who slowly opens his eyes.

He gasps; he feels himself start to get hard. His eyes can't seem to take everything in fast enough. You smirk, loving the reaction you got out of him. It gives you the extra boost of confidence you were needing.

You stand there, hand on your hip in a sexy snowman outfit to go with the performance you are about to give.

The dress, if you can consider it with how short it is, has three black buttons in the center. The material hugs your chest nicely, giving Harry a nice view of your breasts that are close to popping out. The dress hugs your waist and begins to flow out right past your butt. You wore your favorite black heels that Harry sometimes begs you not to take off. You had on a plaid scarf and a black hat that matched it perfectly.

You were the human version of the snowman except for a more rated r version.

Harry is sitting his mouth wide open at a loss for words. You blow him a kiss before letting the song lyrics flow out of you.

Frosty the snowman

Was a jolly happy soul

With a corncob pipe and a button nose

And two eyes made out of coal

You sway your hips side to side, singing, enjoying the ravenous stare he was giving you. You throw the hat, letting it fall at his feet, but not even that breaks the gaze he has on you, not wanting to miss a single movement of yours.

Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say

He was made of snow

But the children know

How he came to life one day

You take a few steps forward, but never enough to allow him to touch you, and he's craving it; you know he is. His hands are gripping his thighs, his knuckles turning whiter by the seconds.

He still hasn't said a word. You have him mesmerized.

You sing the lyrics proudly, knowing you practiced all week for this moment. The moment Harry will never forget all the teasing he had been doing, always forgetting you win these battles.

There must have been some magic in that

Old silk hat they found

For when they placed it on his head

He began to dance around

"Baby," Harry breathes out, putting a hand out to touch you, but you take a step back before he can do so.

You smirk, shaking your head no at him. You were having a lot more fun than you expected.

You bend over, slipping off your heels, never breaking eye contact with Harry; he could very easily see up the dress that you had nothing underneath. His green eyes turned dark, and you swore your heart stopped, and you were sure he was about to attack. You were the prey, taunting him until he had enough, but surprisingly enough, he took a deep breath, and his composure was back well, just a bit of it.

O Frosty the snowman

Was alive as he could be

And the children say he could laugh and play

Just the same as you and me

You stopped right in front of him. Harry's eyes trained on your red lips, hanging out to every word you were singing. You reached a hand back and began to unzip the dress. The grin on your face excited for the next reaction you were about to receive.

Once you reached the bottom of your back, the dress fell to the floor. Harry let out a loud gasp. Your breasts on display, the small owl tattoo on your hip staring at him, he could see how wet you were, and all he wanted was his head between your thighs as you screamed his name.

You were a dream. You missed Harry's touch. It was the reason you stepped close enough for him to finally pull you in.

He led them down the streets of town

Right to the traffic cop

And he only paused a moment when

He heard them holler "Stop!"

Harry has no expression on his face as he sits you on his lap. He lets his head fall into your next, feeling how wet you are through his thin sweats. You move to stand up, but he grips your hips tightly, thrusting his hips against yours, searching for some kind of relief or a reaction from you because you still haven't stopped singing.

"Baby, stop singing." His hand is cradling your cheek as his lust-filled eyes stare at you.

You shake your head, not letting him distract you. The only piece of clothing left was the scarf, and Harry lets out a growl before ripping your scarf off your neck, throwing it off to the side.

Now you truly sit there naked in his lap, and you feel all the control you have over him. The song is coming to an end, meaning you've got to remove yourself from your favorite place to sit but knowing you'll be back there soon enough.

Frosty the snowman

Had to hurry on his way

But he waved goodbye, saying

"Don't you cry I'll be back again someday"

You sing the final lyrics in his ear before walking away to turn off the speaker, an extra sway to your hips, knowing Harry is very well still watching your every move. You stand a delighted look on your face as you wait for his praise.

"Those were the longest two minutes of my life," Harry says; he puts a hand over his heart, feeling like it might just burst out. "I'm never going to be able to listen to this song in public or around anyone that isn't you."

You smirk, thrilled to hear that.

"What did I do to end up with someone as beautiful and perfect as you in my life." He confesses.

"Probably stopped a war in a past life." You throw out jokingly.

Harry puckers his lips and makes grabby hands at you. "Kissy, please?"

And who are you to say no? He spreads his legs, letting you step in between. You slip your fingers into his hair, pulling back with enough force to have him let out a moan. You lean down and connect your lips in a hot kiss, one that has Harry gripping you tightly wherever he can get his hands on. You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you happily give up the control to him.

You pull back and rest a hand on his chest, preventing him from pulling you back for you. You wipe your thumb over his bottom lip that now has some of your red lipstick. "Seems like I won, sweets."

"I feel like the real winner here," Harry tells you cheekily, sneaking a kiss to both your boobs. You giggle, not at all surprised by his action.

"Well," You fiddle with the collar of his shirt. "Why don't you show me how winners celebrate?"

"With pleasure." Harry groans standing up quickly and pushing you back against the best. He strips as fast as he can, not without a small stumble; you're sure to keep your giggle quiet, knowing very well how easily he gets embarrassed.

He is quick to get on top and kisses you hard. His kisses are always soft, but it seems the teasing seemed to flip a switch, one that you will happily remember to look to turn on again on a later date. Tonight, you are ready for an endless night of pleasure and love.

Harry connects their lips, ready for an endless night of pleasure and love.

_____

Christmas cards were a lovely tradition. Harry insisted they started because he wanted to show off his beautiful girlfriend to his friends and family. He also liked them handwritten because it added a nice personal touch. Who were you to argue about it?

This year you were the one excited to send them out.

It read: Merry Christmas from our beautiful family to yours

You and Harry sat in front of the fireplace, four stockings hanging behind you. Harry made you sit in his lap, wanting to show off your matching two-piece buffalo plaid pajamas. You both had the biggest grins on your face, eyes shining bright. Next to you, laying on top of a box that was wrapped with blue sloth wrapping paper, was a one-year-old Australian shepherd that had spent the better of six months in the shelter because the small pup was quiet who didn't do well with people, but that changed instantly the minute he met you. You decided on the name Frosty for him. Not only did Harry get you the dog of your dreams but a small kitten as well. You brought home Snow, a six-month white Birman kitten who was the rut of his siblings, and how could you just not bring him home with you with his big blue eyes staring at you begging to add to your family because he had lots of love to give. At least that's what you told Harry what the look he was giving you meant. The two siblings laid next to each other, both surprisingly staring right at the camera, making it their best Christmas photo yet.

A photo can honestly speak a thousand words because one glance at this photo tells you how much love there is in that home and their relationship.

Christmas was all about spreading joy and love, and well, Harry accomplished just that for you.

_____

thank you so much for reading! i honestly hoped you loved it and would love to hear what you thought so send me a message if you like.

i love you!

#harry styles #gbsxmaschallenge #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #christmas #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff

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