#and yeah Harry seems to see as far as a mole | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Six (Harry Styles)

a/n: LAST PART OMG!! im a little emotional this story has come to its end but it already ended up like twice as long as i planned it to be haha! thank you so much for reading and loving the story, it means so much to me and i loved seeing your reactions as the plot developped! i hope you guys will be happy with the ending our pair got and i can’t wait to read your thoughts about the series as a whole!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce, sexual content

word count: 14.8k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

Waking up next to Harry is probably your most favorite thing in the entire world right now and you’ve been able to experience it every morning since you dropped Izzy off at Anne’s. You’re missing her like crazy and can’t wait to have her back, but part of you is desperate to stretch these days as long as possible, because you’re not sure if Harry will be comfortable with you sleeping in his room once his little one is back under the roof.

It’s always the same, yet you can’t get enough of it. Harry grumbles as he turns the alarm off, snuggles back to you for just a few minutes before he forces himself to take a shower. In the meantime you start breakfast and his coffee waits for him ready by the time he joins you in the kitchen. You eat together, sometimes talking, sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s presence and it’s the perfect way to start your days.

Then Harry is off to work and you go for whatever shooting you had planned for the day. Luckily, you’ve been keeping yourself busy. If your day ended early, you always found something else to do, you picked Trevor up another time and also managed to have lunch with Harry on Thursday which was such a nice change, even if it was just eating takeout in his office because you were in the neighborhood and he had some time to see you.

Now it’s Friday and you’re spending it with some editing and eventually packing, since you’re leaving to the countryside for Sarah and Mitch’s wedding when Harry comes home. You’ve been looking forward to this weekend all week, you had a few phone calls with Sarah and the two of you hit it off quite well, you can’t wait to finally attend the wedding. And also because Harry is coming with you, so it’ll be a kind of weekend getaway even though the two of you have been alone home all week.

Harry runs a little late from work so you leave about an hour later than you planned, but it’s all good, since nothing is planned for the evening, you just wanted to be at the location on time. It’s going to be a small wedding, nothing extra and it’s held in an inn near the beach, the perfect spot in your opinion, especially because even the weather seems to be celebration the occasion and it won’t be raining cats and dogs.

Heather: A double date? I don’t know, who’s the guy?

You’re texting Heather in the car and you finally bring up the possibility of going on a double date with Niall.

Y/N: Photo attachment

Y/N: He is a cool guy, I think you would like him!

Heather: He surely is hot! Alright, we’ll see. Anyway, have fun with your super hot and rich boyfriend this weekend! Tell me all about the wedding next week!

Y/N: Thanks!

Your eyes scan over the word boyfriend. You didn’t want to correct her and tell her that you are not boyfriend and girlfriend, just dating, because you kind of enjoy the thought of being an official item. It’s been just a few weeks since it all started and you know that Harry needs to take things in his own pace, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to play with the thought.

You’re aching to finally call him your boyfriend or what’s better, hear him call you his girlfriend. The thought of calling this man yours is making you go nuts but you need to be patient with him. He has gone through so much change lately, you can’t let your silliness ruin it for the both of you.

It’s late by the time you arrive to the Inn and you both feel exhausted from the ride so you want nothing else than to get a good night sleep before the wedding tomorrow.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Sarah greets the two of you when you walk into the Inn. She envelopes you in a warm hug before doing the same with Harry. IN the meanwhile, Mitch has also appeared and he greets you with a short hug as well before giving a brotherly hug to Harry. “Had a safe ride?”

“Yeah, everything went fine,” you nod smiling.

“Great. Well, here is your room key, made sure you two are getting one of the larger rooms,” Sara smiles slyly, but you’re taken aback by something else.

“We’re sharing a room?” you ask turning to Harry, who seems nervous about your question, though it wasn’t your intention to make him ashamed in any kind of way.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, Sarah asked me this week which room I want and I told her we would be sharing… Is that okay? We-we could ask for a room for you as well if y—“ “Harry,” you chuckles softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “I would love to share, I just wasn’t expecting you to want to do the same is all,” you tell him and you can see the relief in his eyes instantly.

You talk over a few things with Sarah before taking your stuff up to the room and calling it a night. Harry takes a shower first in the small bathroom that’s joined to your room and in the meantime you hang your dress up so it doesn’t get too wrinkly by the morning. Then you just get all your equipment done, making sure everything is full and loaded for the big day tomorrow. When Harry is done you take your turn and the hot shower feels nice, quite relaxing. Walking out you find Harry lying in bed, typing on his phone, he smiles up at you when you join him in bed.

“My mum sent me this. They went to the park today.” He turns the screen towards you and a photo of Izzy is shown with ice-cream all over her face, grinning happily into the camera.

“She could literally live on ice-cream,” you chuckle, making yourself comfortable under the sheets.

“And gummy bears,” Harry chuckles before locking his phone and putting it to the side table. He is quick to wrap his arms around you, pulling you against his side and you smile as you snuggle to him, enjoying the heat of his body. “Good night, love,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Good night, H,” you softly reply before letting yourself drift to sleep within seconds.

You already have a lot of experience with weddings and no matter how big or small it is, the day is always a little bit chaotic, everyone is all over the place, there’s no time for just messing around, especially for you.

Following a nice breakfast with Harry on the tiny balcony that’s connected to your room, you are forced to part since Harry is supposed to be with all the other guys, getting ready in the room that’s reserved for Mitch, while you kind of need to be everywhere at the same time, but you obviously spend the most time with Sarah, wanting to capture all her best moments.

Sometime around noon you get about an hour off while everyone else is getting lunch and Harry texts you to join him on the mole down the beach that runs just below the inn. When you arrive he is already sitting on one of the old wood benches with a pizza box on his lap.

“Hey,” you smile softly and leaning down you peck his lips quickly before joining him on the bench.

“The boy ordered pizza and I got one for us too, hope it’s okay.”

“Of course, I didn’t even think about lunch until you texted,” you chuckle as he settles the box between the two of you and you both take a slice.

“So how are the photos coming up so far?”

“Good, I’ll have a ton of editing to do, but I think they will like the outcome.”

“Can I have a sneak peek of them?” he smirks playfully, but you shake your head.

“No, the first ones to see them will be Sarah and Mitch, sorry,” you chuckle as he pouts his lips at you, but goes back to his slice right after.

You both are just enjoying the quiet for a little, having had a busy day so far, exchanging very few words, but it’s still a nice time spent together. It is just the two of you until a guy approaches you on the mole.

“Hey guys! Mitch wondered where you went, H,” he smirks down at Harry before his eyes land on you. He is tall, but not as tall as Harry, rocking a noticeable beard and he is wearing the same outfit as Harry: maroon pants with a crispy white dress shirt. “Oh, you’re the photographer, right?” he smiles at you.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,” you answer nicely, holding out a hand for him.

“I’m Landon, Mitch’s cousin,” he nods with a charming smile. “Sorry for interrupting your lunch guys. Just wanted to let you know that Mitch wants to do a round of shots when everyone’s back,” he chuckles.

“He is gonna be so hammered,” Harry chuckles shaking his head. “I’ll be back soon, thanks Landon.”

“No worries. I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he smiles at you before turning around and walking back to the inn. You catch Harry’s eyes for a moment and you have a guess what he is thinking about. Landon seemed to like you, with his flirty smiles and friendly introduction, he was surely thinking about shooting his shot, but he might not know that you’re dating Harry.

However he doesn’t say anything, just continues to eat his lunch in silence and quite frankly, you forget about Landon’s existence pretty fast.

After lunch it gets a bit hectic. The ceremony is starting at 3, so you don’t have much time left. You do the first look reveal thing and this time their son, James is included in it, which is honestly such a pure moment and capturing it feels like a privilege.

Soon enough the guests are starting to arrive and you quickly run up to the room to change into your dress. Most of the time you are not required to dress up for the job, but you like to blend into the crowd so you usually choose to wear a nice dress and you’re doing the same this time as well. You’ve brought a pastel yellow satin dress that teases a little cleavage, and you pair it with a cream colored cardigan, creating a simple but still elegant look for the rest of the day. You’re fixing your makeup in a hurry when the door opens and Harry walks in.

He immediately stops in his tracks upon seeing you in front of the mirror, his eyes traveling down the lengths of your body, a stunned expression adorning his handsome features.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were… in here,” he mumbles and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks. “You look… You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly. He takes a few steps closer to you and reaching up he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a trail of delicate touch on the side of your face.

Leaning down his lips hover over yours for a moment, as if he was giving you the chance to pull back, but who are you to deny anything from Harry Styles? So when you stay in place, he finally presses his lips to yours in a slow and tender kiss filled with passion. His hands cup your face in his and you bring yours up to wrap around his wrists as you kiss him back, already craving more than just a kiss.

But it feels like you are not the only one growing hungrier with the seconds, one of Harry’s hands wander down to your butt and you feel his palm’s warmth through the thin layer of your dress, though you wish there was nothing between his skin and yours. When he starts kissing down your jawline and neck, pushing you backwards you hate to break the moment, but there’s no time for any funny business. So painfully, but you pull back, already missing his lips on yours.

“I would really love to continue this, but I need to be with Sarah in about three minutes,” you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, I need to get back to Mitch too,” he sighs, pecking the corner of your mouth before his arms fall from around you.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” you smile up at him, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah,” he smiles with a boyish smile before you part ways again.

All through the ceremony you are kind of all over the place, trying to get the best shots, you don’t have much time to spare. Sarah’s entrance with her dad and James walking down the aisle is so beautiful and you get some amazing shots of Mitch’s emotions upon seeing his future wife. They tell their vows, touching every guest with their sweet words to each other and then they finally say ‘I do’ and become husband and wife.

You snap a series of photos of that moment as well, but then you allow yourself to peek over at Harry who is already watching you with a soft smile. You can feel yourself blushing, his gaze is warm but also quite intimidating in this sentimental moment.

And then the party finally starts. You try to follow the newly weds around as much as possible, but you also get around the tent, shooting pictures of the guests as well. You only get to have a few moments with Harry, because either you need to rush off or sometimes someone finds him and wants to have a few words. He is quite popular among the guests, but it’s no surprise. You’d want to have the chance to talk to him too if you saw him.

“Have you even had a bite yet?” A male voice calls out for you when you’re trying to sneak from one point to the other. Glancing over your shoulder you see Landon with a drink in his hand.

“I’ll eat later. The dance is about to happen so I need to be ready for that,” you smile at him.

“Mitch told me they found a really good photographer, but he surely forgot to mention how devoted you are. I’m excited to see the photos.”

“Thanks, I’m trying my best,” you chuckle.

“Save me a dance later?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you nod with a nervous chuckle. “But I really gotta go now,” you excuse yourself before he could even get another word out.

As you slalom between the tables you spot Harry sitting at one of them and he is staring at Landon from across the room, a not too friendly look plastered across his face. You wonder if he has seen you talking to him and now he is feeling jealous or if you’re just seeing things. But you don’t have much time to ponder on it, work is calling you.

As the happy couple share their first dance, soon enough more and more guests join them and you’re standing at the side, snapping the cute dance partners slow dancing to the music with Sarah and Mitch in the middle. You’re adjusting the settings on your camera, when a tall figure appears in front of you.

“May I have a dance?” Harry asks, holding out a hand for you like a true gentleman.

“Oh, I should—“

“If you are about to say you should be taking pictures, the bride told me to ask you,” he tells you with a soft chuckle and as your eyes fall on Sarah, she is smiling in your way happily, nodding her approval to get off duty for just a little.

“Then, I would love to,” you smile shyly, taking Harry’s hand as he takes you to the dance floor. Placing his hands to your waist he pulls you close to him while you rest your arms around his neck, swaying to the rhythm very gently.

“I always get a little emotional at weddings,” he confesses with a small smile.

“Yeah? Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just… love seeing people in love. Especially when they are my friends,” he adds chuckling.

“It really is a nice thing.”

Harry pulls you tighter against him, his cheek pressing against the side of your head and you let your eyes fall closed for a few seconds, enjoying this moment with him. He starts to softly him the song and his voice flows through your ears smoothly, you’re in awe how good his voice is. He never told you he is a good singer too above being an amazing producer.

When the song ends some couples stay, but some make their way off the dance floor and you have to get back to your job as well. Leaning back you squeeze Harry’s arm as his hands fall from your frame too.

“Save a slice from the cake for me,” you smile at him and he nods with a smirk.

“I will. I’ll have it ready for you at the table.”

You place a short kiss to his cheek before you disappear from his sight, leaving him alone again.

The night carries on as usual, sometime after dinner your phone dies so you leave it on the charger up in your room before running back down. The party starts to unfold as the time passes, more drinks are being consumed and this is kind of your secret favorite part, because the more people drink, the more they are willing to pose for funny pictures. This is the time that births the best group photos, in your opinion.

Though you are having an amazing time, you can feel yourself growing tired. When it’s finally cake time you take some time off to sit with Harry who saved you a slice, just as you asked him. It’s nice to have a breather, just enjoy the evening with him by your side again.

“Mm, didn’t know you could eat icing without getting it all over my face,” you tease him, referring back to the time you made such a mess out of the kitchen when you tried to make cupcakes for him.

“Very funny,” he narrows his eyes at you, before dipping his finger into the icing and wiping it onto your nose.

“Hey!” you pout at him, cleaning it up, but he just smirks at you playfully before pecking your lips shortly. It’s the first time he is kissing you in with so many people around and it surely makes you giddy, knowing that he is not trying to hide you in any way.

Weddings are a lot of fun, but they always stretch so long. The party can last till the morning sometimes and you can’t just decide to call it a night and stop doing your job, you need to be there until the DJ shuts the music off and all guests disappear. And it seems like this wedding won’t be any shorter either.

It’s already past midnight when you decide to sneak out for a short break. You’ve been on your feet for way too long and you stole some food too. You hesitated if you should sit back to your table, but you felt like you could use some quiet so you left the tent and found a bench nearby.

As you sit and eat the food you snatched from the buffet table, you hope the party won’t last until the Sun comes up. You get so into your own little world that you almost don’t even notice the approaching tall figure.

“Having a break, huh?” Landon calls out as the gravel crunches under his fancy dress shoes.

“Ah, yeah. I needed a few minutes away from the music,” you chuckle softly. Landon stops in front of you and hides his hands in his pockets as he blinks down at you with tired looking eyes. It might be from the long night, but you are guessing the drinks he’s been consuming don’t help his energy either.

“May I say that you look really pretty? I haven’t been to many weddings yet, but the photographers went for the more comfortable look since they are not on the photos, but you chose to glam yourself.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle softly. “I like to blend into the guests.”

“Well, you don’t blend in this way either, because you look prettier than most women in that tent,” he compliments you and you’re starting to feel awkward. It’s not that you don’t like it when someone is talking highly of you, but it’s obvious what Landon wants and you are definitely not on the same page.

“Um, thank you.”

“I’m sorry if I come off too brash or pushy, but I promised myself I would never miss a chance to compliment a pretty woman when I see one.”

“That’s nice, but I’m afraid I’m not the right person to spend your energy on,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile. Landon narrows his eyes at you, but keeps his playful manner.

“So you don’t find me good-looking, is that it?” he teases and you shake your head with a soft chuckle.

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then you like to break hearts, right? You must enjoy making men fall for you,” he carries on with his little joke and just as you’re about to speak up to tell him you are seeing someone, Harry’s familiar deep voice interrupts the conversation.

“There you are, I’ve been calling you.” He is talking to you, but his eyes are clearly glued to the man standing in front of you.

“Oh, my phone is in the room, I had to charge it,” you tell him.

“What are you guys doing out here?” he asks, clearly not liking the situation, you and Landon alone outside with no one else around. Jealousy is dripping from his eyes that appear so much darker now in the dim lighting.

“I’ve been dumped by this amazing woman right here,” Landon sighs dramatically and Harry cocks an eyebrow at him before glancing over at you.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, she is clearly not interested in me, my charm didn’t work on her,” he laughs lightheartedly.

“I hope it didn’t because she is my girlfriend,” Harry answers simply and your lips part at what he just called you.

Landon stumbles back, his smile quickly vanishes from his face as he stares back at Harry. You feel like you’re watching some kind of documentary movie where male animals are trying to win over the female, only that Landon stands no chance in this situation, but you find it quite funny.

“Man, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t know!” he apologizes right away as he realizes why Harry has been kind of spicy around him. Landon then faces you. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to make it awkward and all that, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him nicely. He mumbles something about checking up on Mitch before walking away, leaving you and Harry alone. He joins you on the bench, staring after Landon for a few moments before turning to face you. A much softer expression is showing on his face this time.

“So, you just called me your girlfriend,” you point out, trying your best to hold your growing smirk back.

“I, uhh—I did, didn’t I?” he chuckles nervously. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out, because I didn’t like how Landon was trying to chat you up all night…”

“So you didn’t…. You didn’t mean it?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows, feeling yourself growing disappointed.

“Well, I… I mean, I didn’t mean to say it like that, without discussing it with you, but… I would love to call you my girlfriend,” he admits shyly and you can’t believe that this nervous man next to you is the same man who owns a record label and manages his million dollars business every day without a problem.

“I like the sound of that,” you smirk, leaning closer to him so your noses are almost touching.

“Yeah?” he smiles, a lot more relieved and playfully than he was a moment ago.

“Mhm,” you nod, biting your lip. You blindly put your plate to the side before cupping his face in both of your hands and pulling him in for a kiss, your first one as boyfriend and girlfriend. Part of you feels silly that it makes you so ecstatic, like you’re a high school girl, but in this moment you couldn’t care less.

What starts as a sweet and innocent kiss quickly turns into something more, something heated. When Harry’s hands find your bare thighs and they slightly slide under your dress you can’t help but yearn for more, pulling him closer as your tongues meet. Your fingers lace through his curls, tugging on them gently and you’re fighting the urge to throw a leg over him and just sit on his lap straddling him. When he starts kissing down your jawline and neck, you have to stop him for the second time today, not that you wanted to do it anytime, but the time and place hasn’t been right.

“We can’t…” you sigh, pulling back even though every fiber in your body is telling you otherwise. Harry lets out a long sigh, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I know.”

“But hopefully, the party will end soon and then we will be all alone in our room,” you smirk at him slyly and it brings back the shine into his eyes.

“I can’t wait,” he mumbles before kissing you one last time.

From that moment, Harry lingers around you at all times for the rest of the night. He is always either right by your side, or within a few feet away from you, keeping an eye on you, but not in an obsessive and intrusive kind of way. His eyes are filled with lust every time you share a look at each other and you can tell he can’t wait for the party to finally be over. Whenever he is next to you, he makes sure to touch you in any kind of way. Placing his palm to the small of your back, your arm or your hips, or when you sit next to each other he rests his hand on your thigh or knee without hesitation. And you are loving all the affection you are being showered with.

By the time the wedding officially ends and you can finally call it a night, you are both touch starved and hungry for each other. Harry pulls you against him on the stairs up to your room, not even giving a damn that you are still out in the public. His mouth attacks you hungrily, kissing you anywhere he can reach as the two of you stumble up your way to the room.

Pushing the door open you basically fall inside, giggling against Harry’s lips as he shuts the door closed and presses you up against it, making you gasp at the action. He is so much more demanding and confident than the last time you shared an intimate moment and though you’re not sure how far he is planning to go, you know you are ready to give him anything he desires.

“As much as I love this dress on you, it needs to go,” he playfully smirks as his hands bunch your dress up on your thigh before grabbing it and pulling it off your body, leaving you only in your underwear so fast.

Your lips find his as your fingers work fast on the buttons of his shirt while you inch further into the room towards the bed. You both kick your shoes off on the way and when you fall to the mattress Harry’s shirt is already gone. He climbs above you as you sink into the way too many pillows and you blindly throw a few off the bed to give you more space. Harry licks into your mouth one last time before he moves down your neck and collarbones, peppering your heated skin with his kisses, his hands already sliding under your back to unclasp your bra. Arching your back you give him space to do the task on hand and a few moments later you are lying under him with your chest completely bare. His name falls from your lips as a whimper when his mouth comes in contact with your left nipple, kissing, licking and sucking on it while his hand kneads your other breast before he switches, giving both sides the same amount of attention. Your fingers lace through his unruly curls as you enjoy his touch that’s burning and soothing at the same time.

When he kisses down your stomach and hips, he hooks his fingers into your lacy underwear, but stop before doing anything, looking up at you for reassurance. You give him the green light by nodding and he carefully pulls the fabric off your body, baring you in front of his eyes completely. His kisses pepper his way up your inner thighs until he finally reaches your dripping wet core.

“Harry!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your clit, swirling and sucking on it just right, making you shiver under his touch. He curls his arms around your legs, keeping them in place as he keeps working his magic, making you a whimpering mess with each lick.

He does the same thing as last time, teases you with his finger dancing around your entrance until you are basically ready to beg him for more. Then he finally pushes two fingers inside you and starts pumping in a slow pace that drives you nuts, leaving you ache for more of him.

You pull him up before he could get you to the top, because that’s not how you want it now and you need to know if he is ready to take this step with you. He understands what you want from just a look as he hovers above you and you cup his face in your hands tenderly.

“I want it,” he breathes out and you could come just from those three words.

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you just want to jump right at it already. Still, you want to make sure he is completely fine with everything that’s about to happen.

“Yeah. I am,” he nods before leaning down he presses his lips against yours.

Your hands reach down and undo his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers before he does the rest of the job kicking them off. His erection presses up against your thigh as his hips fall down a bit and you moan with just the feeling of him on your skin. Wrapping your hands around his shaft you start pumping him while your kiss never breaks.

“Oh fuck,” he moans in sensation and you grin against his lips, enjoying the thought that you are the one making him feel this good.

“Do you have a condom?” you breathe out.”

“Shit, I don’t…”

“It’s alright, I have one.” You sneak out from under him and rush over to your bag to look for your toiletries, you know you have one somewhere in there. When you finally find the little package you quickly get back to the bed where Harry is now lying on his back. Kneeling next to him you give him a soft, reassuring look.

“Do you want me to…?” you imply, holding up the foil.

“Oh, um, yeah, sure,” he nods and you swear you see him blushing. Ripping the package open you lean closer and roll the condom down his hard length before throwing a leg over his lap and get back to kissing him. You take your time with him, running your hands up and down his toned, inked chest as his palms warm the skin on your waist while your lips move together in sync perfectly. You could tell he needed a moment to get settled and wrap his mind around what’s really about to happen.

“Everything alright?” you ask, a little out of breath as you hold yourself up above him. He nods shortly. “Do you want me on top or you want to switch?”

“C-can you stay on top for now?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him warmly, before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss while your right hand wanders down his body until you reach his hard cock. Harry whimpers against your lips when you wrap your hand around the base, lining him up with yourself.

“Tell me if you want to stop, alright?” you ask him and in any other situation you’d find it a little funny that it’s you asking him that, usually this request comes from the guy, but you just want to make sure he is comfortable with everything that’s happening. Harry nods again and as he gulps hard his Adam’s apple bops up and down. Leaning down you kiss him again as you slowly ease down yourself just enough so that the head of his cock slides inside you. You stop, giving both him and you the chance to get accustomed to the feeling. It’s been quite some time for you as well, and your fingers do not compare to Harry’s size, that’s for sure.

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other reaches up and cups the side of your head, panting against your lips from the feeling of finally being inside you. Once you’ve made sure you both adjusted to the feeling, you allow yourself to sink further down until his whole length disappears inside you. You stay still, shutting your eyes closed as you let your walls stretch around his erection, making that slight pain you feel go away. Adding the length and thickness of his cock to the long drought you’ve had in the field of sex is making it feel like you are having your first time again in a way. It’s not that awkward and definitely not that painful, but still, that’s what it reminds you of.

“Are you good?” he asks, squeezing your hip gently. Your eyes snap open and meet his green ones that are now clouded with a little bit of worry.

“Yeah, it’s just… You’re big, Harry,” you admit with a soft chuckle that brings a cocky grin to his lips as well. “Just give me a moment.”

He just nods again and both his hands start running up and down your sides reassuringly as you take a few seconds to yourself before you start moving your hips. You start off slowly, dragging your movements out, trying to see what feels the best and judging from Harry’s moans and grunts he is enjoying himself no matter what you do. Your hands sprawl out on his chest, fingers digging into his skin as you lean onto him while starting to move up and down his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, you feel so good!” he whimpers, almost as if he was in pain, but you can see the pleasure in his eyes.

Your thighs start to burn, but you keep moving yourself, not wanting to stop, because you’re feeling your orgasm building up inside you. When he starts thrusting up to meet your movements, you moan his name so loudly there’s a chance the people next door heard you, but you couldn’t care about that now.

Harry might have noticed that you’re starting to get tired, so pushing himself up he wraps his arms around you and turns you over until you’re the one lying on the bed and he holds himself up above you on his arms. Your legs circle around his waist as he starts moving in and out of you, the new position making you both moan and gasp at the sensation.

“Harry!” you whine as he keeps hitting that one spot inside you, pushing you closer to the edge dangerously fast.

“Am I making you feel good, baby? You like it?”

“You’re making me feel so good, please don’t stop!” you beg him as he buries his face in your neck, sucking on the soft skin, most definitely leaving a mark on you that you’ll wear proudly tomorrow. You would never want to hide the fact how good Harry fucked you, let the world know that your boyfriend made you feel so amazing!

“Oh my God, I’m getting close. Are you feeling it too? Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. Grabbing his face you pull him into a kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth mercilessly and the grunt he lets out is making your insides tremble. It’s animalistic, so passionate and sexual, you want to hear this every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m close, go a little harder, Harry!” you plead and he does as you asked without hesitation, his hips slamming harder against you, making you gasp for air as your head sinks into the pillow, your back arching in pleasure.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Let it go!”

“Harry!” you whine, as you can feel your orgasm threatening to burst inside you any moment.

“Say my name when you cum, I want to hear who’s making you feel so good, baby!”

Your fingers dig into his hair as you chant his name over and over again with each thrust he makes and then your release finally arrives. You moan and whimper, shaking under his naked, sweaty body, his name falling from your lips as an endless glorification. Your walls clench around his cock and it’s the last straw for him as well, his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated as he cries out your name, his hips slamming hard against you while he rides his orgasm out. Reaching down you drag your nails down his back until you reach his perfectly round ass, giving it a cheeky squeeze while he buries his head into the crook of your neck, thrusting into you a few more times before coming to a stop.

Turning your head you kiss his temple, running your hands up and down his back while you both try to catch your breath, coming off your high. Soon Harry pulls out and rolls off of you, his body smashing into the mattress beside you, his face glowing from that post sex euphoria. After a few moments of just panting and blinking into the void you finally feel yourself returning to reality and rolling to your side you cuddle to Harry’s body, his arm instantly coming to circle around you.

“Everything alright?” you softly ask, placing a tender kiss to his chest under one of his swallow tattoos. The last thing you want is to have him freak out now that the deed has been done, but when he gifts you with a tired but genuine smile, your worries vanish into thin air.

“Yeah. I’m all good. More than good,” he chuckles before lifting his head and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers are dancing up and down your naked back, following the line of your spine and your ribs, his smoothing touch already working as a lullaby on you, but you’re determined to stay awake just a little longer.

“Are you turned on by hearing your own name during sex?” you tease him with a sly smile as you think back to how much he enjoyed you scream his name over and over again.

“I might have a bit of a praise kink,” he admits truthfully with a smirk.

“Mm, interesting.”

“What’s yours?”

“What do you like during sex?”

“You, balls deep inside me,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh at your words. “And I like doggy,” you then add to actually answer his question.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, and maybe some hair pulling. Not in an extreme way, but I like a little.” “Alright, noted,” he hums nodding.

You both clean yourselves up in the bathroom, moving around each other naked without any shame. Harry then puts on a pair of clean boxers and you change into your night clothes, though the moment you make yourself comfortable in Harry’s arms in bed his hand sneaks up your back under the shirt, tugging the material up. You could have just stayed shirtless, but now you’re too tired to even move. His fingers are drawing little patterns over your skin as you listen to his steady breathing before drifting off to sleep.

Sunday feels like a day after a sleepover in high school, when you’re thinking about everything that has happened the day before, and you’re so happy it happened but you’re kind of tired and just want the comfort of your home already.

Sarah and Mitch leave for their honeymoon early in the morning. You say goodbye and Sarah just keeps thanking you for your work even though she hasn’t even seen the picture yet.

“But I’m sure they are amazing! Can’t wait to see them!” she beams at you when you try to tell her to just wait for the actual outcome.

You leave the inn a little before noon heading to Anne’s to pick Izzy up. You have lunch somewhere on the road and then you sing along to the music in the car, enjoying yet another roadtrip together, making the best out of your last minutes alone. You’re happy to see that Harry hasn’t seemed to spiral after what happened last night, he seems delighted and pleased, maybe even excited. Driving down the highway he keeps a hand on your thigh whenever he doesn’t need to use it on the shifting gear and every time he reaches for you, it turns you into a giddy little girl.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Izzy chants upon running into Harry’s arms the moment you park down on Anne’s driveway. Apparently, she’s been sitting by the window for an hour, waiting for her dad to finally arrive.

“Oh, I missed you so much, baby!” Harry cheers, catching the running girl and lifting her up into his arms, hugging her close. It’s such a sweet sight, seeing the two purest people you know be so happy to see each other after a week spent apart.

“I missed you too!” Izzy sighs, wrapping her short arms around Harry’s neck, nuzzling into her daddy’s embrace and your heart is fluttering in your chest for sure.

Anne invites the two of you inside for a tea, Harry helps Izzy pack all her stuff while she is nonstop blabbering about everything she did with her grandma during the week, and Harry listens to her intently, even though she already shared everything with him on the phone when he called every night.

“How did the wedding go?” Anne asks you cheerfully as you help her in the kitchen.

“Oh, it was amazing! Sarah looked so beautiful and everything went smoothly.”

“That’s great, they are such a cute couple!”

Anne is quick to ask you about photography, how long you’ve been doing it and you even show her a few of your works seeing how enthusiastic she is about the whole thing. You were a little nervous about meeting her, but she is just as sweet and kind as her son, making it so easy to treat her just as a friend, not as the mother of your boyfriend.

Before leaving Izzy insists on showing you all the paintings she made for Anne this week, she has them on the wall in her little home office. While you’re shown around in Izzy’s personal gallery, Harry joins his mother downstairs, finishing up his tea.

“I assume the weekend went well, you two are glowing,” she smiles slyly at him and Harry can’t hide his boyish smile.

“I uhh… I asked her to be my girlfriend,” he admits and Anne gasps happily, thrilled about the news.

“I’m so happy for you, Har. I think she is a really good match for you!” she beams, pulling him into a motherly hug, kissing his cheek as if he was just a little boy, not a grown man.

“Thanks, mum. I’m happy too.” “You deserve it. It’s so good to see you living your life again.” Soon enough, Harry loads the car with Izzy’s stuff and it’s time to say goodbye.

“Bye Anne, it was so nice to see you!” you smile hugging her.

“Come back soon, Darling! Nag this old man to visit me more often!” Anne jokes giving Harry a playful look who leaves her comment unnoticed, giving his mother a tight hug.

“Thank you for everything mum, love you, I’ll call you alright?”

“Drive safe!” she calls after you all as you get into the car and wave her goodbye leaving.

The drive home tired Izzy out, or maybe it’s just the change of settings again. Whatever it is, she can barely stay awake until dinner, so once her tummy is filled Harry decides to put her to sleep early.

Izzy asks Harry to lie in bed with her as he reads her a bedtime story, she is extra clingy now that she is back with her daddy, but Harry is enjoying having his little one back so he doesn’t mind it. Izzy snuggles to his side, playing with the ears of the bunny she chose to sleep with tonight as she listens to his steady, smooth voice talk her to sleep.

“Daddy?” she asks quietly, already half asleep.

“Yes, baby?”

“Are you going to marry Y/N?”

The question catches him off-guard, he was definitely not expecting it especially since Izzy hasn’t even seen the two of you kiss yet.

“Why are you asking?”

“My new friend, Loretta from the park told me that if a boy and a girl live together they are probably in love and want to get married.”

“Loretta seems to know a lot about adult stuff,” Harry chuckles softly. “Well, it doesn’t exactly work like that, Iz. But… would you be happy if I told you Y/N is now my girlfriend?” he asks, feeling a little nervous, as if Izzy’s word on the question could destroy any possible future between the two of you. She stays silent for a few seconds and Harry starts to think she has fallen asleep, but then she finally speaks up again.

“Did you kiss her?” she asks and Harry can’t push down a soft chuckle. Izzy’s idea of relationships probably doesn’t go further than kissing and holding hands so this is how she is trying to put the picture together in her head.

“I did, yes.”

“Oh!” she exclaims. “I like Y/N.”

“Well, I like her too.”

“She can be your girlfriend,” she then replies, giving her blessing. “Are you going to get married?”

“Um, not for a while, no. But… it could happen if things go right,” he chews on his bottom lip, he is definitely not in the phase of thinking about marriage yet, not just because you barely just became an official couple, but that would be a huge step in his way of processing the end of his last one.

“Okay,” Izzy simply nods and that brings the end of the discussion. Harry has been a little nervous to have this talk with Izzy, he was afraid she might get a little confused about the idea of him having a girlfriend and the thought of her mother, but she seemingly didn’t even bring Maggie into her train of thoughts. Luckily.

When Izzy is finally asleep he closes the door and makes his way downstairs where you’re lying on the couch, watching the rerun of the news. You smile up at him upon his arrival and as he joins you on the couch, he is quick to pull you into his arms, making you snuggle into his embrace.

“I just told Izzy that you are my girlfriend,” he confesses and you lift your head up, not even trying to hide your surprised expression.

“Really? And what did she say?”

“Well, she asked if we are getting married,” he tells you chuckling shortly. “I told her that we shouldn’t get that far ahead. But she basically gave her blessing. She said she likes you.”

“Well I was hoping she doesn’t hate my guts after spending almost every day with me,” you chuckle, making him smile too. “But I’m happy she likes the idea of us.”

“Yeah, me too,” Harry nods before pulling you closer for a sweet, innocent kiss.

You finally get around to have that double date with Heather and Niall one month into your relationship. Harry’s weekends have been a little busy these past weeks, he had to go into the office on a few Saturdays, but now he has finally finished a huge project he has been working on so he can actually take some time off.

Ruth comes over to look after Izzy that evening and she keeps looking at you and Harry like a proud grandparent whenever she sees the two of you interact as a couple. Little touches and kisses have been more regular around home ever since Harry told Izzy that you are together. So far, she’s been handling it really well, she doesn’t seem to be confused about you and her mother and it might be because Harry has had a talk with her recently about her mother and where she really is now. His therapist suggested to be open about it with her as early as possible, and though she doesn’t seem to completely understand the idea of life and death just yet, she has definitely started to put the picture together in her head.

You’ve been spending all your nights at Harry’s room, so by now your bedroom is more like an office space for you and a storage for all your stuff, a place where you can be alone whenever you have some editing to do or just simply need some time on your own. Luckily, Harry totally understands the feeling of needing some space, he has his own limits as well and the two of you have been trying your best to coordinate around these lines when it comes to your relationship. After all, it’s been a pretty unusual situation, you were already living together when you became a couple, jumping a few steps in the timeline of a regular relationship.

Just as you were expecting it, Niall and Heather hit it off quite fast upon meeting at the dinner. Niall is in awe of Heather’s confidence and raw sense of humor that matches perfectly with his, while Heather finds him entertaining and somewhat like a challenge, since you honestly told her about Niall’s reputation as a womanizer, but it’s not something that could scare her away.

“He is cute, desperately wants to prove how good he is doing on his own, but I think that’s just a façade,” Heather tells you when you ask her about her date in the restroom. She fixes up her lipstick, staring at herself in the floor to ceiling mirror.

“So you think you want to see him again?”

“I’m not gonna run after him, if he asks for my number I’ll give it to him. But if he doesn’t, I won’t let him see my disappointment.”

“And what if he asks you to go home with him tonight?” you ask, feeling like teenagers gossiping in the girls restroom between classes. Heather smirks at you through the mirror before turning to face you.

“Oh, I’m not going home with him. That would bruise his ego so badly he won’t be able to think about anything else.”

You stare back at her stunned from how big of a genius she is. You would have never schemed like this when it came to men, but yet again, you never really needed to. Before Harry you were busy with Keith and that relationship came so easily to you. There were never really games, it took you about three weeks to get together. But Heather is a player and a very good one, apparently.

“You two look cute, by the way,” she smiles at you quickly washing her hands before the two of you head out, back to the table.

“Thanks,” you blush, eyes finding the guys sitting right where you left them.

After dinner you decide to stay for a few drinks at the bar a corner away and it’s been so long since the last time you were out just having fun, enjoying some time with good friends. If someone told you a few months ago that you’d be sitting here, sipping on a cocktail with Harry who is now your boyfriend, you would have laughed hysterically.

When Harry reaches for you thigh under the table, resting his palm on it, giving it a gentle squeeze just as a sweet gesture, you glance at him and he smiles at you as his eyes meet your gaze. It’s the first time you actually feel like any other couples. Having a nice evening with your friends, touching each other, holding hands, simply living in the moment knowing well that going home he will probably sneak into Izzy’s room, pressing a kiss to her forehead before joining you in bed, falling asleep with his arms curled around your figure.

It’s no surprise when Niall invited Heather over his place for another drink at the end of the night and you can barely hold your smirk back when she refuses and his face completely falls, especially because he was so confident in himself, the evening went well and he was probably sure she would say yes. Instead, she grabs herself a taxi and heads home upon parting ways. Niall is shocked, but he is quick to ask for Heather’s number from you before you say goodbye and you happily give it to him.

On the way home you think about how weird it is that you are still basically working for him. It’s not that you mind being the one who is looking after Izzy, it doesn’t even feel like a job, she has grown so close to you. It’s about getting paid for it when you’re Harry’s girlfriend and even though you know how untraditional everything has been with the two of you, now might be the time to make a change.

Harry checks up on Izzy while you get ready to bed and he joins you under the covers soon. Your thoughts about your possible quitting keep racing in your head and you decide to bring it up, just to see how he sees the situation.

“H?” you softly ask while he is checking a few things on his phone, propped up against the headboard.

“Yeah?” he glances at you, letting you know he is listening.

“Don’t you think it’s weird I’m still working for you?”

He stops and locking his phone he puts it to the nightstand to fully focus on the conversation. He just stares at you for a few seconds before knitting his eyebrows together, that crease between them making an appearance and you fight the urge to smooth it out with your finger.

“You don’t like taking care of her anymore?” Your stomach drops at the way he interpreted your question, because it’s not at all the situation.

“Harry, I love taking care of her!” you smile at him softly and can see the relief in his eyes. “It’s just a little weird that you’re paying me to be with her. I would do it for free,” you explain, hoping he now gets the whole picture.

“Oh!”

“Are you… Are you planning for the long run? With us?”

“Of course,” he nods and now you’re the one relieved at how naturally the answer came to him.

“Then maybe we should look for a solution that doesn’t make me feel like I’m a kept house woman,” you chuckle softly and a small smile tugs on his lips as well.

“What were you thinking about?” Sighing you bite into your bottom lip, not sure what he’ll think about the idea that came to you.

“I’ve been getting a lot of requests for photoshoots. I thought that maybe I could take two more days out of the week to work on them and stay home with Izzy for the rest of them. We could look for a nanny for those days. They wouldn’t have to move in, because I would be home by three probably. I think… I think it could work pretty well.”

Harry takes a few moments to think it through and you know he has to be considerate, the only reason he was so quick to hire you was because Izzy already knew and loved you. Bringing a stranger into the picture is a big change and everyone has to be fine with it to make it work.

“Would that make you happy? Staying home for half of the week with Izzy? I wouldn’t want to ask you to sacrifice your time for her… for us, if it doesn’t benefit you.”

For a few moments you’re just processing his words, but then you finally understand what he meant by that. He is thinking you might take it as if he is using you to take care of his daughter and he doesn’t want you to take responsibility for her if it’s not what you really want. But you see being in Izzy’s life as a privilege, you haven’t truly processed it yourself, but you start to look at her as your own daughter. Having spent the majority of your days with her these past months, it was inevitable to grow so fond of her.

Scooting closer to him you cup his face in your hands as you smile down at him softly, his green irises filled with worry and doubts, probably thinking that he is doing something wrong again, but he is not. He needs to have more trust in himself.

“I would love it, Harry. I love spending time with her and… with you,” you admit and there’s one thing that you’re aching to add.

And I love you.

But you keep that one back, not sure if he is ready to hear it just yet. It’s still so early in your relationship, and it might feel like a bomb if you just dropped it on him. You need to be a little more patient before taking this next step.

Bringing his arms around you he pulls you to his chest, a deep but happy sigh leaving through his nose as he kisses into your hair. Nothing else is said, but no words are needed. It’s been settled that you both are planning for the long run together and you’ll start to alter your life to make it fit into the picture.

You don’t jump into it right away, but a few weeks after the discussion you had about hiring a new nanny, you take the first step. Ruth agrees to cover one day every week, Fridays, so you can have it off for your sessions. Summer brings a lot of events and occasions and your calendar has been getting busier as your circle of customers has been growing lately. Though Ruth is more than happy to spend some more time with Izzy, you all know she won’t be able to do it too long, you need to find someone at last by the end of the summer.

Harry would never admit, but he is very anxious about bringing a new person into Izzy’s life. He is not the toxic kind of parent who wouldn’t let anyone get near his daughter, but he surely is considerate about who he lets to take care of her and it’s understandable.

On an afternoon spent at the park you are chatting with Ava, Yara’s mom when she mentions a nanny agency they’ve tried out before and had a really good experience.

“They hire people with at least three years of experience and many of their nannies have a degree in some kind of field in connection with child care. We had a nice girl from Russia watch after Yara, she is a primary school teacher but she moved here with her boyfriend for a year. She was amazing, really. Yara loved her, Saige and I loved her, it was a good match.”

She gives you a phone number and later that day you look up the agency, presenting the idea to Harry, who seems interested, but a little hesitant.

“We could still have an interview with them, right? Or I would have to just choose someone from the website like from a catalogue?” he voices his concern as the two of you lie in bed with your laptop propped against your thighs.

“I’m sure we can have an interview,” you smile at him.

Harry just nods, ergo he doesn’t reject the idea, but you can tell he has quite a few doubts about it, but there’s not much you can do.

In the course of three weeks you and Harry have five interviews with nannies that the agency sent and at the end of the day, Harry finds something wrong with all of them, even though they are only minor things.

“You rule out people for the tiniest things, Harry,” you sigh after the fifth interview with a kind middle-aged woman, Kaitlyn. “Based on these interviews you wouldn’t have hired me back in the days,” you joke.

“You know it was different with you,” he points it out and you just nod. He has told you so many times how you were just the perfect fit which is very charming, but it doesn’t help the situation on hand right now.

That evening, when you’re lying in bed, reading, while Harry checks up on Izzy one last time, you see that something is on his chest when he walks in and as soon as he is under the covers next to you, but you don’t ask him, instead just wait for him to bring it up himself.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass about the whole nanny thing,” he sighs tiredly. Closing your book you place it on the nightstand before turning to face him fully.

“You’re not a pain in the ass, just very careful and maybe a little picky,” you add with a soft chuckle.

“Do you think I should be the one staying home with her?”

“Most kids spend the majority of their days separated from their parents in daycare, kindergarten or preschool. It’s not a crime that you are not a stay at home dad, not many like to do that or even fit for that role,” you shrug and it’s your genuine opinion. Just because parents don’t devote one hundred percent of their life to their children, it doesn’t make them bad. Parents deserve to be selfish sometimes.

“I just… I can get so into my head about everything I do wrong,” he sighs, closing his eyes and he seem so tired all of a sudden, like he has been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Brushing his hair out of his forehead you kiss him gently before his eyes open again.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, Harry. Believe me, Izzy is having the best childhood she could ever wish for. She is secure, loved and taken care of. Everything is going well.” He doesn’t answer, just nods as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest and you gladly snuggle into his embrace.

That evening it felt like Harry was shifting in the right direction, but you can never know what really goes on in someone’s head and you couldn’t see what was coming.

A few days later another candidate comes for an interview, you, Harry and the young girl called Rachel sit outside at the terrace as Harry goes through the same questions he asked every other applicant while Izzy is playing around the swing set.

Rachel just finished her bachelor’s and is now taking a gap year before moving back to her hometown to work at her father’s law firm. She grew up with three younger sisters and took care of them most of the time to help her parents out who worked a lot. She is nice, very well educated and it’s clear she is great with children. Yet again, when you glance at Harry you don’t see him as satisfied as you are and you already know he is going to find something against her.

“Alright, so what is it this time?” you sigh once Rachel is gone and you can finally talk openly about her.

“She basically doesn’t have any official knowledge about kids, she just grew up with kids, that doesn’t qualify her as a professional.”

“Raising children is the best knowledge you can get, Harry,” you argue, feeling a little impatient this time. Rachel is perfect for the job, but any other applicants would have been fine too. You’re running out of time and Ruth won’t be able to help much longer.

“I would just be a lot more comfortable if it was a professional staying home with my daughter,” he answers, marching into the kitchen and you follow him.

“There were plenty of professionals between the previous ones as well. You are ruling everyone out!”

“I’m not ruling them out, I’m just trying to make the best decision for my child!”

“By being absolutely insatiable?!”

“Why is it so bad that I want the best choice?” he growls throwing his hands into the air.

“It’s not, but the best choice is not always one without any flaws, Harry,” you point it out, hoping he gets what you’re talking about.

“But I want this to be flawless!” he snaps and you can see that he has lost his patience at this point, but so did you. “I’m not settling for less than what I want, Y/N!”

“So then what? You lied when we talked about all of this? Because without a replacement, I can’t start working more!”

“I didn’t fucking lie, I’m just asking for more time!”

“Well it seems like you just want to push me into changing my mind about switching jobs and eventually say that I’m staying home, taking the blame off of you!”

“I’m not pushing you into anything, Y/N. We still have time until the end of summer, I just want to find the perfect person, give me some time!”

“Harry, there won’t be a perfect person!” you raise your voice, done with running the same circles at this point. “Any of the previous applicants would have taken good care of Izzy, why are you ignoring it?!”

“Stop telling me what to do when it comes to Izzy!” he then snaps, his voice beaming through the room, taking you by surprise. But what he says after this is what really hits you hard in the chest. “She is my daughter, not yours!”

Part of you knows he didn’t mean it the way it came out. Like you had absolutely no relations to Izzy, like you weren’t partially raising her way before you got together with Harry. You can see that it just slipped out in the heat of the moment, but your anger is making you selfish and not care about that anymore. His words hurt and you’ve stopped making excuses for him.

“Yeah, you’re right. Why am I still even here?” you calmly ask before simply turning around and heading out.

The calm but warning tone snaps him out and he is quick to realize he has crossed a line. He launches after you and almost catches you in the hallway when Izzy runs inside, calling out for him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Harry stops and turns around to see if she is alright and it gives you just enough time to escape. You rush out of the house and throw yourself into your car, igniting it and driving away as Harry shows up at the front door, calling after you, but you ignore it, making your way to your mom’s. You need a familiar place to calm yourself down at.

Harry tries to call you several times, and though the first few times it rings out, you send his calls to voicemail almost immediately after a while.

“Damn it,” he growls after another failed attempt to reach you. It’s been almost an hour since you stormed out and he is losing his mind, not knowing where you are, especially after what he said.

He regretted it the moment the words fell from his lips, but he knew it was too late. He let his anger bring the worst out of him and it all crashed down on you when you didn’t deserve any of it. Harry knows you’re right, he’s been trying to find something bad about every applicant because… part of him thinks that he is a bad father for not being the one taking care of Izzy all the time. If it wasn’t enough already, he’s been feeling like a failure for years… ever since he lost his wife because he wasn’t ready to commit more time for his family. He’s been dealing with the thought of being the worst father for so long, sometimes he convinces himself it’s the truth.

If I was ready for another baby, Maggie wouldn’t have had to die. If I put my family first, she would still be alive, he tells himself often when he is feeling the darkness clouding over his mind. Little does he know that it’s all just in his head. It doesn’t make him a bad father that he wanted to wait a little longer before having another baby. He never put his work above his family, he was always there when he was needed and made sure his loved ones are safe and taken care of. Never in his life did he ever put his work before Izzy or Maggie or anyone in his life he cared about.

But sometimes, your mind can play dirty tricks on you. And Harry fell for them.

As time is passing by he is growing more and more anxious when he doesn’t hear from you. No calls, no texts, he has no idea where you went or when you’re coming back. Sitting on the edge of the bed he stares out the window blankly before his eyes wander to the side where you usually sleep and it hits him hard when he realizes how eerily similar the situation is.

Following a fight his lover runs away, doesn’t answer his calls and he can’t get a hold of her. It’s like history is repeating itself all over again and as realization creeps up his spine, his throat tightens and he gasps, tears flooding into his eyes. With shaky hands he grabs his phone and dials Niall’s number, hoping he is not out somewhere at a bar, ignoring his phone.

“What’s up?” he answers the phone delightfully.

“Call Heather now and ask if she knows Y/N’s mom’s address,” he snaps immediately frantically.

“Woah, what happened?”

“Niall! Just do what I asked!” he barks and ends the call, giving his friend the chance to obey. Luckily, Niall feels the seriousness of the situation and does as Harry asked. A few minutes later a text arrives to Harry’s phone with the address.

Putting Izzy into the car he speeds down the streets to Gemma’s house who is shocked to see her brother in this state, but she doesn’t have the chance to ask anything as Harry drops Izzy off and asks her to watch her for the night.

“Okay, yeah, but—“

“Not now, Gemma!” he calls back, already running back to his car, heading to your mother’s house where you sought comfort following the fight.

“Not that I don’t like having you here, but you really should go home and talk it out.” Trevor joins you outside where you’ve been sitting on the steps of the terrace, staring out into the darkening sky. It’s been a few hours since you basically ran away from home and Harry has been blowing your phone up so you put it into airplane mode, sending all his calls to voicemail until you feel like dealing with him.

Trevor sits beside you, his long legs coming up closer to his chest as he sits the same way as you, his arms hug his knees.

“I know, I just… I’m a little tired,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to discuss it, but Harry would want you home for the night, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you nod breathing out. “Do you think I overreacted?” you ask him, feeling unsure about the way you acted. Was it too much? Did you have the right to do it? You’re not so sure about it anymore.

“Well, he didn’t lie about Izzy not being your daughter,” Trevor huffs. “Though he could have handled the situation better. I get it that he just wants what’s best for her, but you were right too.”

Sitting in silence Trevor doesn’t try to convince you to apologize or keep holding a grudge. He just lets you figure it out all by yourself.

Not long later you go back inside and grabbing your phone from the dining table you decide to turn it back on, missed calls and texts flooding the device, but for your biggest surprise, not just from Harry.

Heather: Niall just called me to get your mom’s address urgently, everything alright?!

“Oh shit,” you gasp, typing a quick reply to assure her that you’re fine and then you open Harry’s text seeing how frantic he grew over time and you realize what it must feel like to him. The situation is way too similar to the way he lost Maggie and though you didn’t mean to hurt him by putting him through it again, it’s already too late.

Just as you are about to call him to let him know you’re fine a car pulls up on the drive way and you know it’s him. You rush out the front door the moment he jumps out of the car, eyes wide, chest heaving as he finally lays his eyes on you.

“Oh my God!” he breaks down in tears as you smash against him, wrapping him in your arms, he does the same, his strong arms circling around your waist tightly as he sobs into your chest painfully.

“I’m fine, everything is alright. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for running away like that,” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, holding him for dear life.

“I was so scared it happened again!” he whimpers, his whole body shaking. You slowly start pulling him until you reach the little front porch where there is a small bench kept next to the front door. You sit and pull him with yourself, he doesn’t even loosens his hold around you, as if you would turn to dust if he lets go of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it through,” you hum, fingers combing through his hair as you try to calm him down. He is still shaking, but his sobs are starting to die down finally, his hands still fisting your shirt at your waist.

“No, I’m sorry for being such a dick. I didn’t mean it. You are doing so much for Izzy and I, I don’t know what I would do without you!” he whimpers and when he finally lifts his head up, your heart breaks at the painful look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You were right about everything! Please forgive me!”

“Oh Harry,” you breathe out, the tears already welling in your eyes as you brush his messy curls out of his forehead.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you, what I said was bullshit! Please forgive me, I can’t… I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he stutters with one breath and then he adds: “I love you.”

Your lips part as you stare back at him in total awe at his sudden confession. Though it’s been an emotional ride, you weren’t expecting him to drop this bomb on you. A smile cracks on lips as you cup his face in your hands, feeling a hot tear rolling down your cheek.

“I love you too, Harry,” you answer, both of you letting out a relieved chuckle as he finally presses his lips to yours. His kiss tastes salty from both your tears, it’s needy and a little uncoordinated, but it means the world to you at this moment.

Sitting on the little bench you finally talk everything out once you both calm down enough to speak. Harry admits that he’s been so picky about the nannies because he is still struggling to be the best father he can and is reminded of being alone in this every time he faces a struggle. It constantly reminds him that he is supposed to have his partner with him, solving everything together, but now he is on his own and has to provide the best possible life for Izzy.

“Harry… you’re not alone,” you breathe out, heart aching for the man you love with everything in you. “And I’m not only talking about myself. Your mom, Gemma, Niall, even Saige, Ava and Linda are always happy to help you out with everything. If Maggie was still here, it wouldn’t be just the two of you. Raising a child needs a whole village,” you chuckle softly. “But if you want a partner in it… I’m here. And I really mean it. I see a future with you, I want to be part of your family, of course, only if you let me.” Reaching over your hand finds his on his lap and you squeeze it gently as he looks at you, his expression still a little torn, but it’s not as painful as it was when he arrived.

“I would love to have you be part of my family, Y/N.”

It’s like a rock is lifted off your chest upon hearing his reassuring words. This is all you ever wanted, have a partner in life who is willing to build a future together with you and Harry is offering you just that.

You stay on that old little bench for so long, you don’t even realize how late it has gotten, only when your mom shows up at the door, wearing her nightgown and a fluffy robe.

“Don’t want to bother, but do you want to spend the night? Just asking if I should get you some extra pillows and blankets…”

“Oh! Um, no. We are going home, but thank you mom,” you smile tiredly, noticing it’s nearing midnight now.

Harry stands from next to you and as he steps to your mother you realize they haven’t even met. Harry stands tall in front of your mom, but you notice the nervous flash in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even have the time to introduce myself,” he mumbles with a nervous chuckle. Your mom blushes, most likely finding your boyfriend quite handsome though you already showed pictures of him to her. “I’m Harry,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Oh, no worries! I’m Tina!” she smiles charmingly as they shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Tina.”

“I know we should have probably had a better introduction, but we’ll come around some other time under better circumstances,” you chuckle softly as you stand up from the bench too.

You say goodbye to Trevor and your mom and finally head home. Harry tries to convince you to ride back in his car, but you don’t want to leave yours here, so you tell him it’s going to be fine. Both of you arrive in one piece and you only realize that Izzy is nowhere to be found when you walk into the house.

“Dropped her off at Gemma’s. I’ll have to explain a lot of things to my sister tomorrow, but it can wait,” he chuckles softly before his hands reach out to you, grabbing your waist gently as he pulls you closer to him. “I’m so sorry for tonight, Y/N.”

“Hey, we agreed that no more apologizing,” you remind him of the deal you made earlier. “It’s all in the past.”

Harry nods, huffing through his nose before leaning down he kisses you softly, as if you were some kind of fragile artwork that needs to be handled with so much care.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, his eyes barely open under his thick lashes.

“I love you too,” you smile back, your hands coming to rest at the base of his neck.

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he chuckles lowly, making you laugh too.

“Good, because I’ll be saying it a lot.”

“Perfect.”

“Stop picking on your lip!” you warn Harry when you catch him fidgeting with his bottom lip. He wouldn’t admit, but he is surely nervous as the two of you are waiting for Izzy to join you downstairs. She just got home from the zoo with Gemma, they had an amazing day together, but it had a purpose. You needed her to be looked after while you went to the doctor. It was your first ultrasound since the time you went to see if you’re really pregnant or the tests just fooled you, but it was one hundred percent legit. You were indeed pregnant.

You and Harry got married a few weeks before Izzy turned six. She was the cutest little flower girl in the small ceremony held at the backyard of your own home. Both of you agreed that you don’t want anything big and flashy, just an intimate little wedding with your close family and friends. It’s been two months of being husband and wife and it’s almost completely sure the little baby growing now in your tummy was conceived on your wedding night…

You’ve been keeping it a secret, wanting to tell Izzy first before sharing the news with your friends and family.

“Do you want to talk first or do I do it?” Harry asks in a whisper, as if Izzy could hear anything from upstairs.

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t be able to get a word out so I’ll take the lead, if you don’t mind,” you chuckle softly and Harry doesn’t argue.

He has been such a nerve wreck thinking about telling Izzy that she is going to be a big sister. These past years she has dealt so well with processing everything about the situation with her mom, you and the idea of her dad having a new wife. You felt like she was a little confused at the beginning, but once you had an actual, mature talk with her, answered all her questions, you could see things shift to place in that cute little head of hers. Now she knows what it means that her mom passed and how you came into the picture. This is why you have no doubt she’ll take the news well, but Harry is still afraid she might flip.

Little feet tap against the floor somewhere upstairs and then Izzy runs down the stairs, joining you at the dining table.

“What’s the surprise?” she asks in excitement. You told her you have a surprise for her when she arrived and now she is pumped for whatever is coming.

“Izzy, you know how Zac has a little brother, right?” you ask, smoothly starting the discussion.

“Yes! His name is Jeremy!”

“Yeah. So Jeremy is a little younger than Zac, they are siblings. Zac’s parents wanted to have more than just one kids and so they decided to have Jeremy.”

“Mrs. Rumbald had him in her belly!” she explains cleverly. The topic of babies has already came up earlier, so now she has an idea of what really happens when a couple decides to have a baby.

“Exactly,” you nod smiling. “You know how your daddy and I are now married, right? We talked about what it meant.” Izzy nods, glancing at her father who is sitting beside you, sweating his balls off even though it’s going smoothly. “Married couples often decide to have babies. This is what your dad and I did too and now there is a baby in my belly too. That means that you’re going to have a little brother or sister soon.”

Izzy blinks a few times, processing your words before her face lights up with excitement as she gasps.

“Can I play with her?” she asks, making you and Harry laugh.

“Might be a boy, baby,” Harry chimes in.

“Okay, then can I play with him or her?” she corrects herself.

“Well, you have to be careful with newborn babies, but I’m sure she or he will love to play with you!”

“What’s it gonna be called?” she asks her next question.

“We don’t know that yet. But you can suggest names if you want to,” Harry offers.

“Can it be Elsa if it’s a girl?” she immediately suggests and you smile at her first thought. Of course she says Elsa, she is going through her mandatory Frozen obsession like every other kid at her age.

“We’ll put it on the list,” you tell her. “Do you want to see a picture of the baby?”

“You can take pictures of the inside of your belly?” she asks with a confused look.

“Well, not with a camera like the ones I use,” you explain as you place the black and white, messy picture of the tiny baby in front of her. She grabs it and starts inspecting it as if it was some kind of puzzle and you can tell she is having a hard time making out where the actual baby is. “That’s right there. It’s still tiny and has to grow a lot,” you tell her, pointing at the right splotch in the picture.

“Can I keep this picture?” she asks smiling up at you sweetly. “I want to put it to my wall!”

A while ago Harry has gotten her a huge frame right above her bed that has wires running across it with tiny clips attached. You’ve gifted her her favorite polaroids from your stack you’ve collected through the years, most of them featuring the three of you. It’s touching to know that she wants her little sibling there already.

“Of course!” you breathe out, touched by the idea.

You follow her up into her room and while she stands on the bed, you put the sonogram next to a photo that was taken of her and Harry on her sixth birthday.

“Can I tell my friends at school that I’m going to have a brother or sister?” she asks, still standing on the bed so now she is almost as tall as you are.

“Um…” glancing over at the door your eyes meet Harry’s who just shrugs, letting you know it’s up to you. “I guess you can, yes.”

“Thank you!” she beams, throwing her little arms around your neck as she hugs you tight and you return it gladly. “Can I watch some TV, please?” she asks with an angelic look she knows you can never resist.

“Yeah, but only for an hour,” you tell her as she jumps in victory before climbing off the bed. Running to the door she gives Harry a hug before disappearing down the hallway. Harry walks in, a proud and soft smile tugging on his lips as he steps to you, his hands finding your waist. He pulls you against his hard chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“This went well, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, you were such a big help, sitting there in silence,” you chuckle teasing him.

“But you handled it so good, baby. I didn’t want to interrupt,” he smirks and you just roll your eyes at him before circling your arms around his neck.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you smirk. “So… are you ready to be a daddy again?” you ask him with a shy smile.

“Technically, I never stopped being a daddy,” he points out. “The real question is, are you ready to become a mommy?” he asks turning it back to you.

“I’m… a little nervous, but very excited. I think I’m ready,” you nod smiling.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” he hums, kissing into your hair.

“Wow, when did you become the emotional support in this relationship?” you tease him and he just rolls his eyes.

“Learned from the best,” he nudges his nose against yours before kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you smile against his lips, thinking about how long the two of you have become since you first met and you are happy you got to be the person who taught Harry how to love and be loved again.

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

taglist

@mariamuses @pastequeharry @f-vasquezp @jgtfvhsg @trulymadlykiki @bookwormandtea @sltwins @kakaym @cherryruins @fairysums @styles217 @reidsgubbler @meredithhuntt @hereforreid @kinda-ravenclaw-kinda-slytherin @harrystyle-ish @whitetigerlover17 @popluckbih @mellamolayla @shamelessfangirl-3 @runway-to-my-aid @battlegground @harrystylescherrie @sunsetcurve-h @wellfuckmylifethen @mroy-l0l @percysaidnever @sweeetcreatvre @shawnsblue @jackiehollanderr @lo-harry-ve @harrystylesisbaeee @goldenngracee @sunflowerryvol6 @harryscherrysugar @niallbestie3 @youngpastafanmug @dolcecheerie @dontworrysunflower @alwaysclassyeagle @amyvandijk @harryhub @ericadrumgoole1 @abundanceofsoph

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #to love and be loved series

878 notes · View notes

cherriesfineline · 3 years

Text

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

#AP #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #age!gap harry #my writing

154 notes · View notes

sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

30. Scared, potter ?

Prompt used- Grabbing onto their arm | FLUFF | Draco finally reveals how he fell in love with harry | can't believe I've already reached 30 days with these prompts.

Laughter cackled into the room with people draco had enormously grown to love. It's weird how fast time flies when you are surrounded by people who care about you regardless of how many shit days you may have and draco was a happy victim of it. All his life he had never cared for anyone else, treated them as if they were nothing untill he himself felt like one of those people, what it felt like to be nothing and he hated every second of it and when finally life gave him a second chance by a simple act of fate, he rose out the person who was completely opposite of who he used to be and he was proud of it and more proud were the people who once had hated him. It was a miracle how draco was sat amongst these people now, but he could not be more happier to reach where he is today and everyone he have right now. 5 years of learning, progress, trying to clear his name, he had finally became the person he wanted to be and love, it was just a small Miracle that happened by his side, so unpredictable but exactly what he needed and if there was one person who struck through it all was none other than, harry james Potter. His so called arch nemesis.

He met harry by a very simple mistake actually. One day he was serving coffee in a muggle coffee shop to pay his rent and the next day he knew he had almost been fired for spilling coffee over someone, and obviously that someone had to be harry. They got to talking about how different lives were, how difficult and yet they had the most complex similarities. It took harry exactly 9 months and 3 days during draco's final trials to get a job for him in the auror office, claiming if they didn't take him it would one of the most stupid choice they'd ever make because they'd lose a brilliant mind. Draco's first instincts were obviously disliking harry for doing something like that for him and maintained distance as much as he could but showed his gratitude in different ways like anonymously sending harry his favourite deserts every Friday and cup of coffee every morning. It wasn't until they both had been paired up for a mission related to a death Eater that they collided once again. According to the recruiters, it was important they had someone who was familiar with the death Eater ways, draco and a person they feared the most who vanquished the dark lord, harry. One scene to another, the tension building up one day led them into fighting and eventually resulted in them not talking until during the end of the mission when Draco got fatal injury, not because of the case but because of a muggle driver basically hitting draco. Eventually harry had to assign the mission to officials under him and draco being on bed rest, since it was a muggle injury and treating it the wizarding ways could've possibly been a hindrance in his 100 percent recovery.

And now this is where they are, sitting on top of the grimauld place, on its roof , lit up by almost 70 golden fairy lights, sheltered by a silver tent with a bunch of their friends and families assembled for the rehearsal dinner, or so the muggle called. It was just a last party from harry potter and draco malfoy.

Neville clinked his work lightly on his champagne glass raising it " Time for toast"

Draco cleared his throat grabbing attention from everyone across the table. Harry looked at him, bewildered since he definitely didn't knew Draco planned this.

" I'd like to take a few moments from all of you for this. I- I am blessed to have you all in my life and I met most of you when my life hit rock bottom and through it all, you guys have supported me unconditionally and I'm forever in debt for that"

They all raised their glasses in appreciation.

" and to you harry, tomorrow morning I will be pronouncing my vows and I know we've practically written them together, I can assure you no words are ever enough to what I feel for you. I've met you by a simple act of fate and it is my choice to choose my destiny to spend the rest of my life loving you just like you love me.

I met harry 6 years 3 months and exactly 25 days ago. I was merely counting the days of my life to make it through all of it and by far that day had been a huge blessing. A lot of you have asked me when did I realise I was in love with him and I've Always said that it was somewhere along the way but the truth is I have been saving this answer my whole life for this specific day. 3 years ago when I got hit by a car and had stitches up and down my body, 2 fractures and almost a broken nose, thank goodness for that though, I love my nose, harry being the absolute gentlemen he is, dropped the damn case to take care of my lousy ass. So this one day during my 1 month bed rest, harry had been late and I was absolutely glad he was because of ego issues, I heard my bell rang, I got up and took sometime to reach the door and by the time I had even checked who it was, the person had left, leaving a parcel in my letter box. Being me, I went downstairs to pick it up and just as I started to go back upstairs, a floor below mine I almost rolled down the stairs and guess who was the knight in shining armour, harry. He ranted the hell out of me for choosing to do that and simply grabbed my hand, put it around his neck and carried me back up. The entire day he kept bashing on about what would've happened if he wasn't there. That's when I fell In love. It wasn't magical or something as people describe it, I felt what I had been deprived of my whole life, care and love. The way he just went on and on about it, just showed me how much he cared and the same exact night he stayed over claiming he is never leaving my fucking ass alone, guess he took that too seriously by the way, I fell in love that night of him scolding me. And that's the answer I've saved up all these years. And I'm pretty sure harry is still never leaving my fucking ass alone if in future I get injured, just the consequences and situations would be far different " and draco raised his glass again.

" to harry and draco " Ron grinned, his arms wrapped around Blaise's waist.

" to harry and draco " everyone cheered

" to us " they silently whispered smiling at each other, with a look in their eyes, that was simply just their own, their love.

" I actually can't believe you took an entire minute to make this speech with basically no phrases such as electricity running through or how admirable harry looked. I means it's all sorta sparky " Ron joked. A few people around him laughed too including harry and draco.

As time went on, when everyone was almost done with dinner and simply hanging away slow dancing, chatting, making jokes, harry intertwined his fingers with those of draco's under the table and rested his head against draco's shoulder. Draco looked on his side to see his fiance finding his comfort in his neck. Smiling to himself, draco pressed a long kiss on top of Harry's head, bringing their hands to his lips and kissing over Harry's knuckles before resuming laughing at yet another one of Ron's jokes.

By midnight everyone had started to go downstairs in the house to crash over and a few of them leaving. Finishing up with the cleaning harry and draco too finally departed to their seperate bedrooms as per before marriage rituals. It was almost half an hour later when Draco heard a soft knock on his door. He opened the door cautiously to find harry standing there with a small smile.

" breaking the rules as usual " draco smirked as he turned around to let harry in behind him.

" well, that's just who I am. Besides your room have a nice balcony. Could use it " harry said as he shut the door softly and followed draco.

Draco finally turned smiling at his fiance, just staring at harry until he pulled them into the balcony, letting the moon wash over their bodies, making Harry's eyes sparkle more and draco's hair looking softer than usual.

" can you actually believe, we're getting married in less than 24 hours " draco said as he looked at the sky.

" it doesn't seem so different, does it ?" Harry asked as he stepped closer to draco and grabbing his hands to intertwine their fingers again.

" it doesn't " draco smiled as he kissed Harry's forehead. He too smiled at Draco and finally hugged draco, his arms hanging loosely around his waist , his head rested against draco's chest to hear the faint loveliest sound of his heartbeat. Draco put his chin on top of Harry's head, his arms too hanging loosely around Harry's back and just staying there like that.

" can I ask you something ?" Harry finally asked after moments of silence while watching the moon, different memories, different thoughts running in their own heads.

Draco hummed in response. Harry looked up at Draco, staring blankly as if he was trying to find something, but there was no freckle or a mole or anything left on draco's face yet for him to discover. He knew Draco better than he knew himself and it was just a small proud achievement.

" during that speech, you said something about saving your answer for this day, did you know we'd ever reach this far ?"

Draco pouted looking behind harry deciding on how to phrase it.

" I didn't. If this were to ever end, the secret would've died with me but I knew the only time I'd ever reveal it would the day before our marriage. And I did "

" so you Always wanted to get married ?"harry asked curiously in a Playful way.

" I think yeah. I never had anything close to having what we have, I'd had been a fool not to imagine whatever comes next " draco smiled at harry fondly, his hands tightening around his waist.

Harry looked at Draco amazed. Despite being together for so long, being with each other was Always a different adventure each day and this was their kind of adventure.

" when did you knew you loved me ?" Draco finally asked not looking away from harry.

" well- I think it was during the time you joined DMLE. Those deserts every Friday and the cup of coffee, they had the same handwriting on the Little notes you put into the desert box and on the coffee cup, I knew they were from you long before you told me, courtesy of stalking you all around 6th year "

" So you were obsessed with me " draco teased smirking.

" whatever helps you sleep at night " harry chuckled before he pressed his head against draco's chest again and stayed there in silence until harry had finally gone to his own bedroom, as silently as he had came.

The next day when harry and Draco finally stood against each other on the alter, after the vows, the ring ceremony, the speeches, the minister finally claimed

" I now pronounce you husband and husband, you may kiss each other "

Harry smirked at Draco holding his hands

" scared potter ?"

" you wish, Malfoy " draco smirked back.

And then they kissed, promising an eternity of love that even this life wasn't enough..

Requests open. This might be one of my favourite ones.

Day 29- sweet, sexy and practically fainting | Day 31- would you come back to me

35 notes · View notes

bleh-bleh-blehs · 3 years

Text

Home

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N- Finally! So I am back with a shitty ending to my shitty fic. I am really sorry if anyone doesn’t like it. Feedback will be appreciated :) and requests are open!

Warning- feelings, mentions of death, angst

word count- 2.6k

Home or whatever people called the place where they belong. You were going there, after waiting for your whole life you were finally going to meet your parents. Your real parents who you thought were dead. You learned everything about your abduction from Tom.

And now you were going to finally meet them; your real parents. You were finally going to your actual house. You can’t help but feel overexcited. Tom on the other couldn’t even describe what he was feeling.

“Hey, we are leaving tomorrow. Get some rest.” Harrion told Tom through the office door. He entered the office upon hearing no snarky comment. He found Tom sitting on his chair; eyes red from crying, hair disheveled, a whiskey bottle in his hand and air pods plucked in his ears.

Harrison was shocked to find Tom like this. The man that made others cry was crying himself today. Tom paid no attention to his best mate. Tired of his shit Harrison snatched his phone to turn the music down.

“You have been listening to ‘Let her go’ on repeat? Oh my god Tom what is wrong with? When did you become this love sick puppy? What happened to that playboy, who hooked up with any girl he wanted? Uh? And I am damn sure that you haven’t confessed to her too. What are you..”

“Shut up! Shut up! Just shut up!” Tom shouted, running his hands through his hair. “Why do you think she would ever be with me. I am not her knight in shining armor, okay. And she would run away from me once she is aware of my deeds.” Tom believes that you will never love him.

“Tom she knows what you do for living, and her feelings for you are completely obvious. You are just stupid…”

“No Harrison! She still gets nightmares about you and Harry beating her; nightmares about her foster parents beating her. She would be scared of me when she finds why everyone is so scared of me.” Harrison was not clearly amused by Tom cutting him off in the middle of the sentence. While Tom was just being anxious.

“Aren’t you the one that calms her after every single nightmare? Aren’t you the one that makes her feel safe? Come on Tom only time will tell. Her past will only haunt her and I feel guilty that I gave her more ptsd. But you made her some good memories with her too right? And it’s not like you will never meet her again after she reunites with her family. You can still keep tabs on her right? Just tell her before it’s too late.” Harrison sighed at the end.

“Wow! I can’t believe you are talking so sensibly. Who did this to you, mate? When did you start to talk like a mature person?” Tom couldn’t control his laughter while Harrison just rolled his eyes.

“Hahaha very funny. I don’t know, maybe Stacy made me a mature man.” Harrison chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here you div.” Tom snatched his phone back from Haz’s hand.

“I am going but you better think what I told you.” Harrison made a serious face.

“Get out!” Tom said while smiling. Just tell her before it’s too late. As if it was that easy.

When Tom finally decided it was half past 1am. Lazily he made way towards his room but stopped in front of your room. Thinking whether he should check up at you or not. And decided that he should leave you alone. And kept on walking.

What he did not expect, was you sitting on the armchair beside his bed. It was clear that you were waiting for him. But why!

“Hey Tom.” you said as you sat straight. “I thought you would be asleep right now.” Tom wondered out loud. “I can’t sleep. I am too excited to sleep. And you were the only awake at this hour. So I thought I could talk to you.” you said cheerfully. There was not a single ounce of sleep in your eyes.

“Alright what do you wanna know about?” he asked while taking a seat on the armchair beside you.

“I don’t know. We never talked about your parents right?”

“We never have. What do you wanna know?” all of tom’s tiredness vanished with you excitement.

“Everything! Like how are they? How are parents in general?”

“They are amazing. Best parents i could ever ask for. My father is a strict man and he was the one who forced me to take after him; he is an amazing father though. He loves my mum a lot. I have three brothers, Harry lives here with me but Sam lives with mum, dad and Paddy. just in case if they need him.”

“I didn’t know about your youngest brother. Why did you never tell me about him?” you gave Tom a questioning look.

“You never asked.” Tom said simply.

“Why does he never visit here? How old is he?” you asked. You have seen Sam around a lot.

“Mum doesn’t like homecoming here, mainly because of the exposure to the danger. He's sixteen, can’t defend himself quite yet.'' Honestly Tom missed his brother. He just wanted to spend some time with Paddy like he used too.

“I don’t know if I have siblings. Guess I will find tomorrow.” you chuckled. You looked at Tom as before you left the room. Really looked at him. Taking in his features. He looked tired; eyes were a bit swollen and red.

You could smell the alcohol off him. Over and all he looked tired. He stood up too. Slowly walking towards his closet. “Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have anything to say to me?” he had. He wanted to confess to you. Wanted to tell you everything then and there. But he was not brave enough. Harrison’s words went spiral through his brain again and again.

And there you stood waiting for him to say anything. You were not ever even sure what you wanted him to say. Tom came out of the closet and stared at you for what seems like forever. You can see that he was in deep thought.

“I will miss you Y/N.” he finally said. You smiled, a little disappointed. You have no idea what you want him to say. “I’ll miss you too, Tom.” with that you finally left his room. Leaving Tom with his thoughts

Was much more dreadful for Tom. You were leaving. He felt like he was drowning. He was sad, yes but what he felt wasn’t sadness only. It was a mixture of emotions. Emotions he can’t name. He never felt this uneasiness before.

On the other hand you felt the same. Excited to meet your birth parents. Not wanting to leave the mansion you once dreaded. Not wanting to leave Tom. Slightly scared because you were not sure about your parents reaction. There are many possibilities that they might not be as good as thought.

And there was a strange tingling in your guts that made you feel uneasy. But you put it all aside.

“Harry, you take the other car and Stacy, you are going with him. Just maintain some distance. Look out for danger. Inform me if you find anything suspicious. Alright?” with that everybody left for their vehicle.

The whole ride was eerily quiet. No one uttered a word. You sneaked a glance at Tom; his face was completely emotionless. He noticed you staring but did nothing about it. He never felt these many emotions at once.

He didn’t want you to go. But he had to. He can’t be this selfish now can he? You were finally getting what you always wanted. A family. Parents you always wanted. He can't replace them but he was the one who found them, he was the one reuniting you with them. And that is the biggest thing he could do for anyone.

Your hometown was not far from London. It only took two hours of driving to reach there.

You started to grow nervous as you reached the residential area. The retardation in the speed of the car indicated that you had reached your destination. The car eventually stopped in front of a small cozy house.

This was it. You were finally going to meet your parents. You always imagined this moment but can't really believe that it is happening in real life.

“Y/N.” Tom’s voice brought you back from your thoughts.

“Humm.” you hummed; not knowing how to reply. You composed your posture. Trying to get hold on your thoughts. This is now or never. You thought. And got out of the car. The boys did the same.

Harrison called Stacy to ask when they would be here. While Tom came to stand near you. “How are you feeling?” he asked. That was the worst question ever. You had no answer to it. You couldn’t describe your emotions that easily.

But before you could answer Tom’s phone rang. The screen lit up with ‘Adam’s name’, you knew who he was. Adam was the most trusted person in the mob. No one could compete with his loyalty for Tom.

Tom immediately answered the phone. Adam never directly called Tom unless it was an emergency.

“What is it?” Tomasked rather harshly. To be honest, Tom didn’t want anyone to drag him to work today. He didn’t want to put his brain through that stress on top of his feelings.

“Sir, sir, please don’t go to that place. The L/Ns were killed years ago. Rick is a mole, sir.”

“Get in the car.” Tom shouted. He opened the door and pushed you in before getting in himself. Harison took the driver's seat. And then you saw any people coming out of their hiding places. All armed.

“What is happening?” Harry’s voice came from the phone. “Drive! Harrison. Drive!” Tom shouted on top of his lungs. The people now started to circle the car. You have never been this scared in your whole life.

The people started to shoot; making you more scared. Tom brought his arms around your body protectively. You leaned into his touch. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Your whole body was shaking with fear. Clutching Tom’s clothes. You were never so grateful for the bulletproof car till now.

“We are attacked, Harry. Turn back the car.” you heard Harrison say. But Tom hasn't said a single word. You were sure that those people were following your car. What about your parents though? You heard Adam said something about them but you weren't sure but you knew that they were. Maybe your gut feeling was telling you about this.

You finally opened your eyes when the car stopped moving. “What happened?” Tom asked while checking for danger. “I don’t think that the car can take more damage.”

“So do you think that we’re gonna run barefoot from here?” “No! But the car will blast and we should start running if we don’t wanna die.” both of them argued back and forth. “Stop! What are we gonna do now? What about Stacy and Harry?” you had tears in your eyes.

“We are gonna and they are safe.” Harrison answered, looking for any trace of danger. “We are completely outnumbered, we have no chance of putting up a fight against them. Therefore, we are gonna run without looking back.” Tom explained to you.

“One the count of three.” he held up his three fingers. All of you prepared yourself for running. “One.” he held your hand tightly. “Two.” you swear to the god that your heart will burst out because of the speed of every beat. “Three.” a fire was shot.

All you felt was pain. You were sure that it originated from your lower abdomen. But course through your whole body. All you was Tom’s face, you tried to focus his and you connected hands, his skin. Tried to take his beautiful features in.

“You know where he grew weak boys.” an annoying voice said. “He became weak for enemies when he made his feelings completely obvious for this girl.” the man spoke again. He walked closer and closer, cockng his gun at Tom’s head.

“Any last words, thomas?” he laughed overdramatically. Tom leaned in to give your forehead a kiss. “I am so sorry, love.” he mumbled, his lips still pressed at your forehead.

You closed your eyes. Thinking that this was the end. You didn’t want to see Tom get shot. You heard multiple bullets fired. Way too many bullets to kill two men.

“Let’s get out of here, boss.” you were not fully in your consciousness but you recognized the voice. It belonged to Adam. “we have to take her to hospital.” Tom’s voice was desperate. He got a hold on his tears. After all he couldn’t cry in front of his men.

You reached the hospital in no time. The doctors took you to remove the bullet and top the bleeding. Despite being scared shitless one nurse came to update Tom about your condition. Which was very critical. You have lost a lot of blood and the chances of you recovering were very thin.

“I should have said it, Haz.” Tom finally let his emotions take control. “I should have told her about my feelings. And now it’s too late. I’m gonna lose her.” Tom sobbed on Harrison’s shoulder, hugging him tightly.

“It’s alright, she’s gonna be fine. You have a lot of time with her.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Tom chuckled. “Mr. Holland.” This time the doctor came to talk to them. “The patient is out of danger. She is resting right now. You can meet her just don't wake her up.” the doctor smiled awkwardly and left.

“Go meet her. This is your chance. Tell her everything.” Harrison motivated him.

With that Tom left to meet you.

This is it. Tom thought that this was another chance he had with you. But he knew that he fucked up. He putted your life in danger and most important of all that he made you believe that you parents were alive.

“Y/N. i'm so sorry, love. I put you through this all and I-” Tom never cried this hard for anyone. “And I just couldn’t man up and tell you about my feelings. I-I made you believe that your parents are alive- I couldn't keep you safe-” Tom collapsed on the floor.

“I never thought I would love anyone the way I love you, Y/N. And i am really sorry for everything-” he tried to get up; using the bed for support.

“I hope you forgive me.” he pleaded and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“I hate it when you kiss my forehead when no one is stopping from kissing my lips.” you smirked while Tom stood there in shock.

“Hi baby. Please don’t beat yourself for everything that has happened to me. You only protected me or tried to. And my parents, I know how to live without them. You, Stacy and surprisingly the boys are my family. And I love you too.” Tom smiled at your confession.

“You little shit, you were listening to me the whole time.” Tom accused. “And what were you saying about kissing you on the lips. Huh?”

“Kiss me on the lips, tommy.” you giggled as Tom kissed you on the lips. Both of you sighing at the feeling. Meanwhile Harrison, Stacy and Harry watched you both from the door.

“Don’t you think watching them make out is creepy and gross.” Harry made a face in disgust. “Shut up Harry! My baby boo is in love.” Stacy said while weeping.

In the end you stayed with your real family.

Permanent taglist (including one shot and series and both tom and pete):-@calltothewild // @fancyxparker // @pearly-pisces // @justanothermarvelmaniac // @sarcasticallywitty15 //

Tom Holland taglist (both one shot and series):-

@justanamesstuff

Innocent taglist:-

@uwucorpse

#tom holland #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x y/n #mob au #mob!tom

121 notes · View notes

writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 4 years

Text

Scary Little Thing Called Love

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hermione Granger

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Fred and Hermione find themselves confronting feelings after a Slytherin in the halls is rude to Hermione. Fred isn’t happy, and finds himself ready to throw a few punches, but Hermione stops him, leading to a conversation that reveals a few truths.

Warning: Wizarding racial slurs and body shaming comments.

Rating: T

Notes: Hermione is plus size because that’s how I headcanon her and I can do what I like. Gif is mine, art is mine.

Archiveofourown

“Oi, Mudblood! Yeah, you! Filthy, fat mudblood!” Even though it’s a shout Hermione barely hears it, the truth is she is used to the comments, the sneers, the blood purist bullshit. She is used to the comments that she has dirty blood, that she doesn’t belong, that she is tainted. She is used to the comments that she is fat, that the softness of her thighs, the width of her hips and the bulge of her stomach somehow make her an Other even more. In her 5th year at Hogwarts, her 5th year of the amazing magical world to which she belonged, she had long since gotten used to the comments and often barely heard them. They still hurt but she had learnt that talking back did little good, she couldn’t use her logic to change the minds of bigots and bullies, they simply wouldn’t listen and she wasn’t inclined to get into fights, not with the same quickness that both Harry and Ron seemed to.

So you see it wasn’t the shout or the insulting words that made her stop in her tracks and turn back around, hand grabbing at the strap of her satchel, heavy with books, but rather a different voice, one she knew a little too well and was slightly deeper than it’s partner. Because this voice always came in a pair.

“Why don’t you put a sock in it, Morley, or maybe I should do it for you?” She knows his voice far too well for her liking. At first her ability to tell Fred from George without even seeing a glimpse was something she prided herself on, another puzzle solved, another mystery checked off...and then she realised what it meant. That she had truly paid such attention to Fred that she knew it was Fred because in truth it wasn’t which is Fred and which is George, it was which was Fred. Her ability to tell the twins apart was solely based on her knowledge of Fred. Of his voice, his mannerisms, the placement of his moles and freckles, the way he held himself and wore his uniform. George wasn’t really George, he wasn’t Fred...it scared her a little, that at some point Fred had become Fred and not Fred and George, not just one of the twins.

He’s messily dressed as always, a million dress code violations coming straight to her mind from the way his tie is barely tied to the untucked white shirt that has at least 2 or 3 different burn marks on it. His hair is wild as always, shoulders the usual broad width, freckles stark and many against his skin, but his expression is one she isn’t particularly used to and has never been fond of.

“I’d like to see you try Weasley, you can probably barely get your wand to work. Another hand-me-down? Besides, it’s not like I'm lying. Granger is a fat, filthy mudblood.” With each word the Slytherin, one she doesn’t even know, turns to her and smirks. It should make her angry, but it just makes her scoff. She has little energy for it any more, but it strikes her that Fred doesn’t appear to feel the same as her on the matter.

He looks terrifyingly angry, for someone who is often seen with a smile or a smirk on his lips, often heard with a laugh in his voice, and smile in his eyes, the glare sent towards the Slytherin is...unusual and Hermione thinks, rather unwelcome.

She bridges the gap between the two of them, hands wrapping around Fred’s forearm, noticing how he’s clenching his fists tight enough that his knuckles are stark white. “It’s not worth it, Fred. Come on.” She gestures away with a tilt of her head and pulls at his arm, lightly, not enough to move him, but enough to make it clear she doesn’t want him to start a fight on her behalf. She doubted she’d be able to move him if he didn’t want to be moved, years of playing beater on the quidditch team had made Fred quite strong.

His brown eyes meet her own for a few seconds as Fred contemplates whether he should listen or whether throwing the first punch or hex would be more satisfying. Hermione isn’t sure what sways him in the end, what makes him listen, but he begins to walk with her away from Morley even as he throws out insulting comments about Fred and her. She expects Fred to turn back around when Morley calls her a mudblood bitch, but he just clenches his jaw and walks a little faster, his pace has her almost running to keep up with his taller form.

He walks her to a little alcove in the Transfiguration corridor, out of the way of any passing Slytherins who might have a few nasty words to say. His jaw is still clenched, shoulders tense the way she’s only really seen when he’s on the quidditch pitch before a swing of the beaters bat, there’s a redness in his cheeks but the sort that comes from anger rather than anything pleasant.

“Are...are you alright Fred?” Hermione realises that her hand is still on his forearm and goes to pull away but he reaches his hand forward to grasp hers. It...is unusual. Fred and her had never been the sort of friends, because years of knowing him surely meant they were friends, who held hands or hugged. There had always been a distance there, the occasional ruffle of her hair as he walked past to annoy her, or a hand on her back as he moved past. Nothing more, nothing less.

She didn’t find it terribly unpleasant though. It was quite nice really, his hand was larger than hers, covered in freckles and scars.

“They shouldn’t talk to you like that.” He says it quietly, so entirely un-Fred like that she finds herself concerned. He is always loud, in fact Fred is often louder and bolshier than George. He rarely spoke gently or quietly, unless he felt he needed to for someone else’s benefit. She’d seen it a few times, particularly this year, often when he and George found a first year crying in the corridors after some sort of rough treatment from Umbridge.

“It’s okay...I don’t really listen anymore.” She tightens her grip on his hand, combating the urge to twist and lock her fingers through his own. This is unusual as it is and she knows that if Ron or Harry found them they’d stand there bug eyed, jaws on the floor, mouths gaping open. Hermione and Fred didn’t hold hands, to most it seemed like they barely tolerated each other. She actually liked him...when he wasn’t testing on first years and trying her patience. She could admit that he was brilliant at magic, she could admit that his little smirks and smiles made her chest ache. She could admit that if they weren’t so diametrically opposed when it came to rules and education they might very well be the best of friends.

“It’s not okay, Mione. It’s really not…” Fred pulls his hand out of hers and rubs his eyes with a sigh, she misses the feel of his hand in hers...it’s a disconcerting realisation.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Tightening her grip on the strap of the satchel over her shoulder, Hermione isn’t sure if she wants to know. Will it hurt? Will it heal? Will his words reach that part of her that she’s been trying to ignore? Will that be smothered or awoken with renewed vigour? There’s an apprehension in her, a wait for his words, what might he say next.

“Because...because I…” She’s never seen him struggle with words, Fred is a man of many words. He could talk the hind legs off of a donkey. With his wit, overly confident personality and Gryffindor bravery, he was rarely at a loss for words.

“Fred?” There’s redness filling his cheeks, his neck, the tops of his ears. She is used to seeing it on Ron, whenever he’s angry or embarrassed or feeling something particularly strong. She’s seen it on Ginny as well, it appears to be quite the Weasley trait, but she’s unsure why it’s happening to Fred right now.

“I care about you. That’s all.” What he really wants to say is that he thinks he might be in love with her; that she’s beautiful, passionate, intelligent, wonderful, even when she’s yelling at him. Especially when she’s yelling at him. That he thinks she should be treated like the brilliant witch that she is. That her parentage shouldn’t matter, that she’s brilliant because she’s muggleborn, that he lies awake some nights staring at the wood above his bed thinking about her, about how he wished he was braver. How he wished he could just be a Gryffindor and tell her. But, he can’t because of Ron, he tells himself, because Ron would be hurt and he couldn’t do that to him. In truth, Fred thinks it’s more because he’s terrified that she’d laugh in his face. She’s a prefect, brightest witch of her age, on track to being Head Girl. She’s beautiful, all soft curves and wild hair. He’s likely to drop out of school any minute, a joker, a prankster, not worth much if you asked most people. Trouble. She’s above him, out of his league in so many ways and he doubts she’d ever feel the way he does.

“You’re my little brother’s best friend. I have to look out for you.”

“Well, if it’s such a chore then don’t bother!” She can feel her hackles rising, in a way only Weasley’s ever seem to manage. She refuses to be someone’s chore, to be cared for simply because someone feels obliged. She takes a step back from him, arms crossing over her chest and turning her back to him so that she can leave his presence. If she’s such a chore then she won’t stick around to bother him any.

“Wait! Merlin’s balls! Hermione!” She’s rather spritely despite her height when she wants to be and he’s chasing after her down the hall, pushing his long legs as fast as he can to catch her because he didn’t mean it like that. She’s not a chore. She’ll never be a chore. Even when she’s being frustratingly idealistic or overly rule abiding, she was never a chore for him.

“I like you! Okay? I like you and I don’t like people being bloody shitty to you, okay?!” It does what he expects, stops her in her tracks. Feet stopping, skirt falling delicately around her knees, hair the only thing moving due to the slight breeze from open archways near the transfiguration courtyard.

He can feel the heat in his face, his whole body. He can feel the stares of random students who knew them by name and face only, eager to find some new gossip to spread around Hogwarts. By dinner time everyone would know that Fred Weasley had a crush on little miss prefect Hermione Granger. It bothered him, but not in the way he expected it to. He didn’t care that people knew that he liked her, he cared that people would judge her for it. That she’d be teased and picked on more than she already was. All because of him. If George had been there none of this would have happened, he only ever seemed to put his foot in his mouth with Hermione when he was on his own, unsupervised.

She was silent, still and he found himself unable to stand the silence filling in the void, making things worse, no doubt. “I think you’re amazing...you’re smart, you have your beliefs, convictions and stick to them, you don’t let yourself be cowed. You’re bloody beautiful, even when you’re angry, especially when you’re angry. I wish i’d been there when you punched Malfoy, bet you were a sight…” He barely gives himself time to breathe, she’s still not turned to look at him and he can feel the stares on his back, there’s one particular Hufflepuff who looks overjoyed to be witnessing him make a fool of himself, “Look, I know you probably hate me, and Ron is...well, I know he’s your first choice and...and it’s okay, and I am putting my foot in it and it’s stupid and I should really shut up…”

She lets him ramble not because she wants to but because she’s not sure she can actually unglue her feet from the floor, it seems totally outlandish that this is happening to her. That she, Hermione Granger, resident SWOT, is the one being confessed to right now and by Fred of all people. He’s...he’s better than her in so many ways. Sure, she’s smart and talented, but...he’s popular, funny, incredibly inventive with his magic, ambitious, and handsome…She’d rarely admit it, only when pressed by a few girls she trusted most, but Fred was incredibly handsome and she felt like she fell short in comparison. He should be going after someone tall and leggy, someone with perfect hair and impeccable taste in clothes, maybe someone part Veela. She thought back to girls like Angelina, like Fleur, how they seemed to fit right for him, how they were the opposite of her.

But he wasn’t. He was behind her, rambling away. Saying all the things she’d always wanted to hear from someone. She knew she was difficult sometimes. She was a staunch abider of rules when possible, and when no threat to life was occuring. She was hot headed and stubborn, logical to a fault, sometimes to the detriment of her friendships. She knew she had walls up high around her, because it so often seemed that everything was a joke, that people made her a joke...this became especially noticeable in 3rd year when people started asking her out on Hogsmeade dates as a joke...it made her realise how little people thought of her. She was too swotty, too good, too logical or too stubborn, too big, too plump, too hard around the edges, too smart, or too right. She’d learnt to stop worrying about others but the wall had gone up. The wall that she could feel crumbling away as he rants nervous like she might turn around and laugh in his face.

“But, I can’t have you hate me, ‘Mione. I...it’s fine if you’re not interested and I’d get it. I mean you’re...you’re too good for me and way out of my league, but please don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand that, I can take you laughing in my face though, if you want? I mean...i’d rather you laugh in my face then never talk t-”

She’s never been one for running, sports, always hated P.E at primary school and certainly wasn’t a fan of Quidditch now she was at Hogwarts, but she could still move pretty fast when she wanted to. So fast in fact that her body was acting before her mind had fully caught up with what it was planning on doing.

Fred is cut off by a soft body colliding with his, a mass of brown curls tickling his nose, his arms awkwardly held at his side as his mind takes some time to catch up with what’s happening.

Hermione presses her cheek into his chest, arms wrapping as tight as they can around him. He smells like freshly mown grass, gunpowder, and something she can only and has only ever been able to describe as Weasley, like the Burrow on a cold winter’s night when the fire is roaring and Mrs Weasley has Celestine Warbeck caterwauling through the wireless. He feels like home, like safety and it’s a startling realisation that has tears welling in her eyes because Fred had always had her back, he always came back and smiled with a joke on his lips, no matter how many times she threatened him or told him off, no matter what. Whenever Harry and Ron weren’t talking to her for whatever bizarre reason he always made an effort to spend time with her, even if she rejected his efforts. He had always been there and had always in everything he’d done, shown that he cared...and she’d been oblivious or willfully in denial. She had spent so long adamant that the two of them were opposites in the worst sort of way that she’d never fully understood why she paid close attention to him or why she struggled not to smile around him.

“‘Mione?” Some of the sense comes back to him and he has enough to wrap his arms around her and enjoy this while it lasts. To enjoy the softness of her waist and the warmth of her pressed against him, the comfort he feels from her holding him tight. He knows it won’t last, but he’s determined to enjoy it while it does, leaning down to press his cheek against the crown of her head, despite the ticklish curls that attack him. She smells like Jasmine, old books from the restricted section, and something else that he’s not able to identify.

“I’m not out of your league…” It’s mumbled into the grey wool of his school vest, so low he almost doesn’t hear it, but he’s so fixated on her that everything seems heightened. Every word seems louder, every twitch of her fingers on his back seems like a greater movement.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he waits, holds her closer, tighter. “If anything you’re out of my league,” He’s about to protest because there is absolutely no way that he’s more deserving of her than she is of him, but she continues and doesn’t give him time to interject, “but I like you anyway...and...and i’m really glad that you like me too.” It’s shy, unnaturally so for Hermione, but he finds it sweet, the soft voice, the refusal to look up and instead keep her face pressed against his chest.

It feels like his heart might actually burst from happiness, he’s prone to over exaggeration he is a Weasley twin after all, but...he’s never felt this sort of happy ache in his chest before, he’s been happy, he’s been excited, proud, a whole host of wonderful emotions...but this is different.

He pulls back from here, hands at her shoulders to push her away gently, just far enough so that he can actually look her in her eyes, cast his gaze across soft, round cheeks covered in red and a lip bitten between teeth.

“Does that mean you’ll go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” He asks this instead of something bigger because he knows Hermione, knows she’d run if he went too quickly, and asked her to be his girlfriend too soon. He knows her well enough to know that a date is intimidating but it’s something she can handle, a bite sized chunk of something new, rather than a massive banquet.

Hermione’s hands pressed into his shoulders as she bit her lip, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she looked down for a moment before meeting his eye with a wide smile stretching across her lips.

“Yes, Fred...I’ll go with you to Hogsmeade.” There’s a brief pause where he knows he’s grinning like a mad man, but neither say a thing. It’s strange, navigating the waters between friendship and something else. He knows how he feels and he supposes he knows how she feels, but getting there, to that stage where this is normal and not some sort of strange fever dream is going to take time.

The pause is broken by Hermione reaching up on her tiptoes, using the hand on his shoulder for balance as she places a delicate kiss to his cheek. He knows he’s bright red, can feel the heat burning in his face worse than the first trial run of fever fudge. But, he doesn’t care, wouldn’t care even if all his brothers and Ginny were stood nearby watching, pointing and laughing. He knows he’s smiling like an absolutely idiot, that that annoying hufflepuff is probably laughing into their hand about Fred Weasley and his stupid grin all over a little kiss on the cheek.

She’s red too, biting her lip to hide a smile as she takes a step back from him, and another, and another before turning on her heel with a shy goodbye and sweet wave. He watches her go with a silly smile and even after she’s turned a corner and he can’t see her anymore he’s still smiling.

“Oi, Gred! What’re you smiling about?” He’s so caught up in the thought of Hermione that he almost physically jumps in the air when George ‘sneaks’ up on him.

“Well, O’darling twin of mine, I have a date!” He grins wide, arms outstretched in a showman sort of fashion, knowing his twin will share in his enthusiasm.

“Wait…” The wheels are turning in George’s head, he knows Fred has a little itty not so bitty crush on their resident bookworm, he also knows he’s been decidedly un-Gryffindor like in his attitude towards her and his feelings. It took him hours to just get Fred to admit that liking her wasn’t some sort of betrayal of ickle Ronnie-Kins. As much as George loved his little brother, he wasn’t about to let his twin back out of his feelings because his little brother couldn’t get his head out of his arse long enough to realise Hermione was right in front of him and yes, Ron, a girl.

“With who?” His twin has been, admittedly, cowardly about Hermione, and he doesn’t doubt for a second that he might have got the bright idea to ask some other girl out just to put his uncomfortably fond feelings to rest, as if that would even work. So he asks, because he knows his twin well enough to know he’s not above making stupid choices and decisions.

“...Granger.” It’s uncharacteristically quiet, but George is used to that whenever Fred mentions Hermione and his feelings. His twin is unusually bashful and unsure about it all, but he can see the shine behind his eyes and the power behind his smile, he knows if it all goes well, to plan, that quiet will go and Fred will be as loud as he always is. But, for now, he smiles at his twin and claps him on the shoulder, making a terrible joke about their resident bookworm, because he’s happy for him...even if he worries he might not get as much of his time as before.

All George ever wants is for his twin to be happy.

#fremione #fred weasley x hermione granger #fred weasley/hermione granger #plus size hermione granger #plus size hermione #fat hermione granger #harry potter #ship fic

44 notes · View notes

gloves94 · 4 years

Text

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 9

Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Bullying!

Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding War… But what would happen if she dares defy the Dark Lord and his wishes? And what happens when she falls for her tormentor? Will Nel fulfill her life’s purpose? And what side will her tormentor, Draco Malfoy, choose? The light that calls to him or the darkness…

CHAPTER MASTERLIST MY MASTERLIST

1 9 9 3

Holiday at Wool’s was exactly what one could expect.

Being locked up in the laundry room in complete isolation without the exception of Barberry, the owl that kept Nel company and allowed her to exchange letters with her few friends, and her magic books which kept her entertained and helped her pass the time. Any other year Lucy would’ve snuck her out or snuck in some pastries or anything to bring a little bit of light into the now fourteen-year old’s life, but that had been years ago. It had been two years since she had last seen or heard from her friend Lucy and wherever she was Nel hoped she was okay.

Her third year started pretty much the same as the last two. She started getting off the wrong feet with Malfoy which by now was a very irritating tradition. This was also the year that Sirius Black, a mass murdered, had managed to escape from the Prison of Azkaban.

She fainted in the train when dementors attacked and made Tracey and Theodore swear not to tell anyone. As far as she knew nobody else knew. Instead rumors that Harry Potter had fainted spread like wildfire as well. Earning him taunts from Malfoy and the other Slytherins during Study of Magical Creatures. A class Nel did not like in the least due to the distaste most animals had for her.

“Shut up you insufferable lot,” To everyone’s surprise she defended Harry to the taunts of the Slytherin boys.

Harry was- well they weren't particularly friends, but they were friendly acquaintances. Even having spent a Christmas dinner together with a group last year.

She hadn’t defended him because she wanted to defend Harry, she had done it because to her it was personal. She had also passed out from the Dementors, felt could still remember coldness that they brought with them and the numbing pain flooded her body when the dark creature had come near her.

“Oooooh, looks like you’ve got a girlfriend Potter,” Draco taunted. Rolling up her sleeves Nel had had enough of him, she was ready to go and take it up with him personally. She had already punched him in the face once she wouldn’t hesitate in doing it twice.

“Don’t,” Harry and Ron had to hold her back.

“What’s wrong Malfoy? Run out of hair gel?” She commented on his new hair do. He had shed his gel helmet and now wore his hair lose, blonde bangs falling carelessly over his face.

He flushed as several other male students laughed at her comment.

xxx

After class Malfoy tailed after as the two headed towards Divination a class Nel hated due to the fact that Professor Trelawny had made a prophecy about her on the first day of class.

“My child you carry a terrible curse!” She had cried and reached for her face with both hands. “You bear the mark of the serpent-bearer on your face! You undead one!”

It was all of course, complete nonsense. It simply made her feel self-conscious about the several moles scattered on her face.

She didn't know what Malfoy wanted, but she was a feeling it was going to ruin her day.

“I didn’t know you and Potter had a thing,” He said walking next to her. She hated that he was prying into her personal life, why was it any of his business anyway? She hated the way he said ‘Pottah’ even more. She considered saying yes just to piss him off.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she retorted dully eyes frozen ahead to the staircase leading to the classroom.

“Of course,” he uttered with disgust. “Saint Potter and Saint Nel,” he gagged. “Makes perfect sense if you ask me. Both of you have so much in common. Parselmouths, Muggle-borns, the fact both of you fainted in the train-“

There was no way on Earth that he could've know that. With her patience running thin she pulled out her wand and pointed it against his face as she cornered him. She hated that she had to look up to him since he had grown so much over the holiday.

“What do you want Malfoy?” She hissed out. “Or are you just bored out of your mind? Aren’t you sick and tired of being at the end of my wand?”

He looked down at the tip of her wand before cooly moving it away from his face.

Whatever it was she was expecting him to say weren't the following words:

“Come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Her expression shifted from one of anger to one of pure confusion. He never ceased to stop surprising her. It was typical of third and fourth years to go on dates to Hogsmeade together with their sweethearts or with their friends to split butterbeers and go to Honeydukes.

She lowered her wand slightly, blinking twice as she processed his words. "Yes," she answered softly.

“Really?” He asked just as shocked that she had actually accepted.

“Of course, not you git!” She said zapping him with a head swelling hex. She turned around huffing not finding his latest trick to be the slightest bit funny.

Over the years Nel had grown more bitter and alone. The cause of this bitterness her isolation back at Wool's orphanage. Her abandonment issues preventing her from allowing anybody that weren't her two friends into her personal life and even then they were kept at an arms distance. She grew to be resentful over the parental figures in her life, specially over whoever her parents were.

Several days passed and Nel was surprised to find a note on her desk during Defense Against the Dark Arts. A class she enjoyed, for the first time they actually had a competent professor. Professor Lupin was lecturing about the dangers of grindylows, he had some in a water tank and was signalizing to them as he spoke. She looked at the note on her desk, it was folded in the shape of a paper crane also known as Draco's trademark. Who woul've thought the bastard was so crafty with his origami? She should've just swatted it off her desk but the contents of it were curious to her. She was expecting him to make a joke comparing her apperance to the one of a grindylow but instead the bold word starred back at her: 'Hogsmead?' She set the note on fire without a second thought. Her answer clear. Lupin raised an eyebrow at her? "Anything you'd like to share with the class Ms. Saintday?" She shrugged and shook her head. Thankfully Lupin let it go. Malfoy was insane if he thought she would willingly go with him to Hogsmeade.

Presently, Nel was keeping busy writing one of Crabbe's parchment during History of Magic. Also known as the most boring class ever and the one that Nel would use to catch up on her side gig of writing essays for other students. By now, with little expenses she had amassed what she considered to be a small fortune. One she was saving in case of an emergency. Afterall it wasn’t like she was allowed to go out and spend her money when she was locked up back at Wool’s. Who knows, maybe she'd treat herself to something nice when she visited Hogsmeade for the first time. Professor Bins didn't even seem to either notice or care what was happening in class, sometimes he’d just pass out on his desk which often times lead to a chaotic environment. She felt a hand pull at her shoulder length dark hair and ignored it already knowing who it was.

She ignored the pull, then she felt it again. That tug in the back of her scalp annoyingly commanding her attention.

This year was going to be different. She wasn’t going to spare Malfoy an ounce of attention. She was better than that.

"I know something you don't," She felt a voice singsong behind her ear.

"I could care less about anything you have to say Malfoy," she huffed quickly not removing her hand or eye from the parchment she was currently writing on Animagi. Completely disinterested in the Medieval Witch-hunts that Binns was lecturing about or in whatever Draco had to say. She had a feeling it had to go with his weird obsession to get her to go to Hogsmeade with her.

"Is that so?" She didn't see his expression, but the teen raised an eyebrow. He braced himself waiting for the bomb to drop and savor the bait he was about to dangle in front of her. "It's about your parents."

The only thing Nel knew about her parents was that they had abandoned her in an abbey on October 31st of the year 1981. She had always assumed they were muggle-born until last year when she learned she was a Parselmouth, a dark skill that only the descendants of Salazar Slytherin possessed. She had mixed feeling about them to the day. Sure, as an orphan she was naturally curious, but now she didn’t know if she would be happy or not when she found out who they were. After all being related to You-Know-Who was not a good thing…

Malfoy saw how her hand froze and her back visibly stiffened. She gripped the quill hard as she paused writing the parchment. He didn't stop to wonder just whose essay she was writing this time.

"Yeah, right," He saw her shoulders slightly move up before she scoffed shook her head in denial.

What would he know about her parents? He had to be bluffing.

Draco sat back on his seat and patiently waited for her to take the bite. After years of observing her behavior he knew just what would make her tick and what wouldn’t. He was sure she'd bite.

A moment later Nel turned around with a visible frown. Her dark eyes meeting his light ones. “What do you know about anything, anyways?” She eyed him warily with mistrust.

She had already trusted him once before and it had not ended well. It was something neither of them seem to speak about or mention. It was something she certainly hadn’t told Nott or Davis, nor she expected him to share with Crabbe, Goyle or Zabini.

"I know who it was,” he said slowly savoring the moment. “The person that left you on the doorstep of the abbey."

He saw her eyes go wide at the revelation. That was confidential information. A little-known fact that only a select number of people knew. How would he know? He probably wouldn't, but his father would. Lucius Malfoy, that odd man that seemed to be unreasonably interested in Elowen's life.

Class was dismissed and Malfoy stood up self-righteously and left his seat walking out of the class with a satisfied smiled.

"Wait!" She called after him. However, he did not stop.

"Wait!" She called again and trotted after him. Catching up to him and reaching for his arm holding him back. He slowed his pace and glanced at her with the edge of his lips turned up.

"How do you know that?"

The arrogant look on his face only stretched wider across his lips. Guess for once sitting in during one of his father’s dull conversations had actually paid off.

"How do you know?" She repeated. Draco remained silent secretly enjoying the attention he was receiving from the hostile girl. "Are you going to tell me?" She asked.

He remained silent, marinating in the moment.

"Tell me please!" She implored him slapping his arm roughly. Still he remained deadly silent simply walking away from her.

"Please!" She pleaded. "I'll give you or do whatever you want," she bartered. Maybe she couldn't buy Malfoy but she could offer her business and services to him.

She saw him come to a halt. Crabbe and Goyle who were walking with him also stopped on their tracks. He raised his hand indicating that he would later meet them at the Great Hall later.

"Anything?" He swaggered towards her, arching an eyebrow. A suggestive smirk on his face.

Her face flushed in unflattering red patches as she looked away from his icy eyes. "Well," She pondered.

Just how far was she willing to go for this vital information?

Also - this was Malfoy. Whoever knew if he was being sincere or not. If anything, it was probably a cruel trick he was playing on her. Also, Merlin knows just how twisted Draco's imagination could stretch when making his vile demands.

"Would I lie to you?" He said seeing the uncertainty in her face.

"Yes," She said with an incredulous scoff. He most definitely would. In a heartbeat and without hesitation. He was not to be trusted.

"Not about that," He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I wouldn't waste my time with such nonsense," he said self-importantly.

Nel strongly fought the urge to roll her eyes. His time? What did he spend his time doing? Talking Quidditch with Marcus Flint and the other Slytherin boys? Ogling the other Slytherin girls?

"What do you want Malfoy?" She crossed her arms over her chest growing impatient from walking around in circles with the conversation.

He didn't look away from her perturbing gaze. She was looking at him so intensely almost as if she was trying to read his mind.

"I want Parkinson off my back," He said slowly walking towards her. It was no secret that Pansy Parkinson was thirsting over Draco. She had warned all of her chamber mates to back off because she had claimed her ‘Drakey’ as hers. It was disgusting. Even the way she threw herself at him and always attempted to cling off his arm.

Nel was known for having the reputation of being a hustler in the school. You wanted something done you went to her.

Homework Check.

Test answers Check.

Wanted to hex someone? Check.

Slip a love note or potion? Consider it done.

Of course, her services did not come cheap.

"Consider it done," She clapped her hands together and licked her lips thinking of all the vicious things she could do to Pansy Parkinson. Someone she already despised. She would greatly enjoy this.

"It's different," He clarified almost as if he could read her mind.

"She won't take no for an answer which is why I need you to come to Hogsmeade with me."

So that’s why he had been so insistent… Wait-

"What?" She gaped at him. Horrified at the ridiculous request. At what he was implying. He was asking her out on a date? Why couldn't he just tell Parkinson to shove off? She had endured three years of Malfoy's torture, why couldn't he be just as crude to the insufferable girl?

She was still waiting for him to admit it was all a horrid prank, but his expression told her otherwise. He was dead serious. He really did want her to go to Hogsmeade with him. It hadn’t been some kind of trick. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been this.

"Please Saintday, don't flatter yourself," he scoffed at her shaken expression. Again, she felt vulnerable almost as if he could read her mind. "Believe me, I would've preferred asking anybody else, but seeing she already has it out for you - it makes things easier for me," he flashed her his most charming smile.

“Also, we’ve been civil to each other in the past and it wasn’t completely unbearable.”

She shushed him immediately. Not wanting to remember that Christmas Eve the two had spent together during their second year. It wasn't something she liked to remember, much less talk about.

Normally this would've come at a very expensive price for anybody else, but in these circumstances… He possessed something she needed. Priceless information about her life. What was one trip to Hogsmeade? Really, what was the worst thing that could happen? She'd get stuck having butterbeers with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle and listening to them talk about this seasons Quidditch. There were worse things happening out in the world right now.

"Fine," She caved adjusting her bag strap.

He stretched out a hand and hesitantly she shook it. She didn't know why she had expected it to be slimy like a reptiles but instead his hand was soft and warm. He definitely had the hands of somebody who had never worked a day in his life.

"You're also to carry my bag and write all my parchments."

"What?" She looked at him incredulously pulling her hand back as if she had been burnt, as if she had just signed a deal with the devil himself. "For how long?"

"Until I feel like it."

"You're not being fair now," She said beginning to walk away.

"Fine," He bartered. "For a month."

"A month?" Her eyebrows went up so far they almost reached her hairline. "Make it a two weeks."

"Three," He pressed.

"One and a trip to Hogsmeade or you've got nothing."

"Deal." They shook hands again finalizing their deal.

He smirked pleased with the transaction. She rolled her eyes and began to walk away.

"Oh, and Saintday," he called after her making her stop and turn to face him. "Most girls would kill to go to Hogsmeade with me," he said pompously.

"I'm sure," She responded her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Who? Besides Parkinson and your mom?"

His eyes widened at the comment.

"Let me know so I can get in line," she flashed him a charming smile before turning away.

20 notes · View notes

ascottywrites · 4 years

Text

The Angsty Post

Where Happy Endings come at the slowest of paces.

*Or, you know, sometimes not at all.

Rewriting the future by Synesthetic (Complete: 28/28| 106,631) --Steter

Two days before their planned bonding, alpha Derek Hale runs away with his secret beta girlfriend, leaving Stiles heartbroken. With the demands of his omega physiology forcing him to bond with someone before his first heat, Derek's uncle Peter steps in and offers a solution.

Backstage is Full of Parasites by Falln_Grce (Complete: 14/14| 61,346) --Steter

A little tweak to the Teen Wolf universe where Stiles learned to take care of himself from a young age. And despite going through trauma as a child, he's 17 now and has adjusted to the new normal as well as he can. With a soulmate-AU just to keep things interesting.

What if the Sheriff didn't turn to alcohol when his wife died... What if he focused all of his attention on helping a seven year old, recently removed from an abusive home, Isaac get settled into the Stilinski household... Where would Stiles fit into that world?

How I Long For Yesterday by sweetbutterbliss (One-shot| 6,017) --Sterek

Stiles blinks, his throat going dry, and he moves his thumb without thinking - liking the post. He feels a surge of petty satisfaction. At least the fucker will know he knows now. He stands up, his body feeling too heavy, and he blows out the already guttering candles. He lets out a sob of frustration when the last one won't fucking blow out. But he sucks it back in and bites down on his tongue, using his thumb and forefinger instead.

He throws himself into their empty bed without undressing. He lies there repeating the words 'Derek blew me off for Isaac' over and over. He tells himself to shut up while rearranging his pillow violently, but he goes to sleep with the refrain continuing its painful loop.

You're Not Who I Thought You Were by halcyon1993 (Complete: 21/21| 84,549) --Sterek

Stiles is lonely. The only person who really talks to him is his best friend, and even Scott seems eager to ditch him whenever someone better comes along. Following a stupid decision made late one night, his small world opens up as he discovers things he never before thought possible and he meets a mysterious man who could be the answer to all of his problems.

In Word and in Deed by lielabell (one-shot| 7,778) --Sterek

Stiles has stopped saying "I love you." Derek wants to know why.

(Once in a) Blue Moon by clarkoholic, skywardsmiles (Complete: 14/14| 60,051) --Sterek

Stiles and Derek are getting along, but they’re not a family, and they’re sure as hell not mates. Christ, they’re basically just two stupid guys who happened to get pregnant because of a full moon and sheer dumb luck.

We Are Made of Our Memories by JenyaKeefe (Complete: 9/9| 12,441) --Sterek

"I don't have amnesia." "Um, clearly you do. You're under a spell that's taken a year's worth of memories." "No. I've wakened from a spell."

Lost on you by devilscut (Complete: 7/7| 51,322) --Steterek

A deadly encounter with an Alpha changes Stiles' life forever - kicked out and betrayed by his best friend and brother, Scott McCall, he leaves Beacon Hills, but much to his surprise not alone. Ten years down the track, living a life he never dreamed possible, a chance meeting brings back memories of that night - the good and bad mixed with a whole lotta WTF that even now still has him scratching his head as to what happened.

In Treatment by tzzzz (Complete: 22/22| 166,937) --Sterek

Derek hires Stiles, a professional alpha sex therapist, to help him through his heat.

The New Normal by midnightcas (Complete: 27/27| 63,392) --Sterek

After Stiles gets hurt...again, Derek puts him on the metaphorical supernatural bench. Meanwhile, Stiles tries to have a normal life and make normal friends. But when a new pack comes to town and the Hales start getting threats, things start to get a little....not normal.

The Mating Privilege by Kikileduc (Complete: 12/12| 35,380) --Sterek

Stiles and Derek have been happily mated. The pack is doing well, but in hopes of creating alliances for it to do better, Derek accepts a neighboring pack's request to allow two wolves to join the Hale-McCall pack for a full moon cycle. They hope to form a blood-tie, or at least a long term friendship between the two packs. The issue is Kohona, the tribal leader's daughter, has her eyes set on an unavailable alpha wolf. This could have drastic consequences for their young emissary, however...

Beta read by the amazing Splash_of_ bi! Cannot thank you enough!!

Jokingly I'm adding this WARNING after having two separate comments talk about heart palpitations and others stating they are physically shaking or experiencing high blood pressure after reading the first few chapters.... WARNING: read with caution if you have a pre existing heart condition, Derek and the Pack may cause you to be upset!!

If We Could Match by forestofbabel (Complete: 9/9| 23,455) --Sterek

As Stiles waits behind the camera during an interview, he thinks he should maybe quit. Because, in all honesty, despite the charming smile the actor is pulling out for EW, Derek Hale is kind of a jerk.

Your Heart for My White Fences by zgdtx (Complete: 10/10| 29,444) --Sterek

At first, Derek was the one night stand that he could not pry himself away from. Before he knew it, Derek was the married man Stiles had fallen in love with. Then, Stiles was the little lamb being tossed into a pit of wolves, helpless and alone. There was not much he could do, no, not much at all. Dark AU.

Call in the Air Stike (Tell Them to Make the Drop) by WednesdaysDaughter (Complete: 2/2| 5,126) --Sterek

"How do you tell your best friend that the guy you were slowly falling in love with flat out said you were nothing but a waste of space, and you’ve secretly felt that way about yourself once or twice on a bad day? The answer is, you don’t."

Twyla Hale by FiccinDylan (Complete: 13/13| 37,123) --Sterek

After the formula of their go-to product changes, "Hair Day" becomes "Hell Day" in the Hale Pack household. It's time for Derek to call in the pros, imagine his surprise when he's presented with a wicked tongued white boy with honey brown eyes.

***sure there’s some stuff that happens that’s not fun but i think I would characterize this as light angst in comparison to the inherent possibilities of this fandom lol

Baby You're Beautiful by supernaynay (one-shot| 1,089) --Sterek

“God you’re beautiful.”

Derek hadn’t even realized that the words had left his mouth until the whole room went silent, including Stiles, who until about five seconds earlier was busy yelling at him for putting himself in danger yet again.

I want to do this for you by Late_to_the_fandom (Complete: 17/17| 19,323) --Sterek

“You must be delusional,” Derek deadpanned as he stood abruptly and stalked away indignantly to throw the broken shards of his cup in the garbage can. “In what harebrained scenario of yours did you think I’d say yes to this?” His heart thundered in his chest as he stared at Stiles in disbelief. “Nothing good can come out of this and you know it.” He paced angrily, his hands fisting then uncurling as he tried to rein his emotions. He stopped suddenly, his glare piercing and his words cutting, “I would never let you use me like this.”

There's Something About Love that Breaks Your Heart by Stereklover11 (Complete: 5/5| 7,835) --Sterek

"I love you," Stiles said.

Derek didn't answer right away. Then he said:

"I'm sorry Stiles, but I don't feel that way about you. Or any guy for that matter."

The one where Derek is bisexual but doesn't know it and refuses Stiles' love...at first. ;)

Baby Daddy by DiscontentedWinter (Complete: 25/25| 55,369) --Sterek

Laura Hale decides it's time to expand her pack. And Stiles could really use the money. And Derek... well, that's when things get complicated.

Bake to Remember, Eat to Forget by butyoureyessaidyes (Complete: 19/19) --Sterek

It’s 6:18 A.M. on a Monday, and Stiles is using his thumbs to shape the fondant butt of a Winnie the Pooh sculpture. It’s the most action he’s seen in a long time.

Or the one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn't know he's part of a werewolf pack (until he does).

Kill Me Once, Shame On You by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle (wip: 15/?| 46,512) --Sterek

In the aftermath of their final bout with Gerard, things kinda went to shit. Yeah, they won. But Scott had violated some major boundaries. Jackson was still an emotionally constipated douche. Erica and Boyd were missing. In general, everyone was left missing a piece of themselves in one form or another. There was also the fact that there was a literal pack of alphas bearing down on them. Stiles was really getting sick of this shit.

(There's) Sulphur in Our Blood by WonderWolf (wip: 19/21| 186,356) --Sterek

"Harris put you on a recon mission with Derek. You. Alone with Derek. On a mission. Together,” Scott says, slowly. “Does Harris want you dead?”

“I believe so," Stiles says gravely.

(Secret Agent AU where Derek blames Stiles for his sister’s death and Stiles is pretty sure that Derek’s going to murder him. As if that weren’t enough to deal with, Stiles’ familiar keeps having public breakdowns.

Oh, and there’s a mole in the agency, so there’s that too).

189 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

953

How old are you? 22.

Do you live in North America? No, kinda far from there.

Do you love dogs? I love all dogs, but there are breeds I personally don’t like.

Were you finished childhood and teens when Harry Potter movies came out? Not at all, I was right smack in the middle of it. I wasn’t born when the first book got released and only 13 when Part 2 of HP7 came out.

Did you keep all your VHS tapes? I don’t think my parents did. But this reminds me of a cute story my dad shared recently; he had used his first salary to buy a VCR and the first VHS he bought alongside it was Terminator 2 and then he watched it with my grandma :’) Stories like that make me wish they were better at keeping stuff from their early adulthood. I find it all very interesting.

Do you think Jack Nicholson is a good actor? I’ve only seen him in The Shining and have watched only bits of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, but it’s enough for me to like him.

Have you ever watched an episode of "The Honeymooners"? No.

Have you ever owned a pair of high-top Converse? Yes, a red pair. I bought it mostly because my favorite girl wrestler (when she still wrestled) wore Chucks as her wrestling boots which was super badass at the time (honestly still is). When she retired, I stopped using the pair because I was personally never into the high-top look hahaha, and I think my mom gave it away a few years later.

Do you have rain boots with a cute pattern on them? I don’t have any rain boots. It rarely floods where I live anyway.

Would you rather eat an apple or an orange right now? Probably the apple. I can’t stand the smell of oranges so I doubt my mind could be changed with how it tastes.

Would you rather do a cartwheel on land or a backflip in water? I’d go with cartwheels as it’s a little easier to move around underwater, and with enough practice I’m sure I could get a backflip down.

Have you ever performed on stage in front of people? Yes.

Were you kinda scared of the goths in high school? No. But I also don’t think we had goths lmao. I wasn’t afraid of anyone except probably for the bitchy seniors who always seemed to hate the idea of younger students existing.

What size is your mattress? (single,twin,double,queen,king) Twin, which I think is synonymous with single lol.

Do you eat foods from all 4 food groups everyday? I eat from all of them everyday except for fruits, but I’m not sure if they’re a group of their own. The charts are always changing and I don’t know what four you’re referring too :/

Would you rather watch a movie in theater or at home? I liked going to the theater, especially for certain movies that I was really excited about and wanted to see. There’s certain ones you definitely have to experience in theaters. Then there’s some where I’m like, “Eh, it looks like it might be kinda good, but I can wait until it’s out of theaters to see it.” < All this.

Do you prefer brown or white rice? White.

Do you like spaghetti? Sure! There are other pastas I like more, though.

What about lasagna? It’s okay. It’s a hit or miss for me. Some lasagna dishes I’ve had have tasted a bit cheap, but when it’s made well it can be really delicious.

Do you celebrate Christmas? Yeah, but I find it more of an escape than a celebration because I tend to get the most depressed around Christmas season. Being with family and getting to eat lots of food and using my new gifts can be distracting enough.

Is your Thanksgiving celebrated in October too? We don’t celebrate that.

Do you like chocolate bars? If it has peanut butter in it, yes.

What about ice cream? Only certain flavors.

Have you ever been stung by anything? What was it? Nothing other than ants and jellyfish.

Do you have GOD-GIVEN (not dyed) natural brown hair too? I have black hair but I think I inherited it from my parents...

Or were you born blonde? See above.

Have you found a gray hair on your head or body before? I remember my mom finding one on me when I was like 11, but it never happened again.

Have you ever had any suspicious moles removed? Nopes.

Have you ever been screened for STDs? No.

Are all your wisdom teeth pulled? They aren’t. I don’t know when it’ll happen to me lol, that area of my mouth has never had any trouble or been in pain.

Did you have your tonsils taken out? No.

Did you have your appendix taken out? No. Other than a tooth, no body parts have been taken out of me.

How many kidneys do you have?(have you donated one?) See above.

Would you (to save someone)? If the person needing one means so so so so so so so much to me. And that narrows down the list very much, so I wouldn’t give a kidney to just anyone.

If you were dying of starvation, would you eat another human? Probably, but only if I was in an extreme situation. Like if a plane I was in crashed in a remote island lol.

Have you ever found a bug or slug in your salad? I don’t think so.

Do you like Harry Potter? No.

What about Twilight? Read all books and watched all movies more times than I can count.

How do you feel about Lord of the rings? Bored me to death. I remember the disappointment I felt when I started The Hobbit and realized I wouldn’t be able to make it past the first page.

Are you going to see 'The Hobbit' when it comes out? I did not.

Do you have a glass that says 'Molson Canadian' on it? No, I’ve never heard of that.

Do you have any collector's glasses or cups or mugs? My mom has Starbucks mugs which I know some people collect.

Would you rather have a white fridge or a black fridge or a stainless steel fridge? Stainless steel.

What size shoe do you wear? My feet can fit anywhere from size 6–7.5.

Do you have a wide foot or a narrow foot or just average? It’s average and small.

Do you bite your nails when you're stressed? Yep. Sometimes I also use my nails themselves to fidget with the other nails.

Do you have to take an allergy pill daily in order to live normally? I don’t. When it comes to food, I’m so glad I don’t have any allergies.

Are you on the birth control pill? Nope.

Or are you trying to get pregnant? Certainly not at this point in my life.

You'd rather wear black sneakers or sneakers in a bright color or pattern? Neither. I like my sneakers white.

Has anyone ever told you they were attracted to you? Yeah.

Are you going to drink alcohol tonight? No. We only have plum soju that just tastes like kid’s medicine.

Have you ever heard of the Canadian kids show called "Mr. Dressup"? Never have.

What about the kids show "Fred Penner's Place"? No.

Did you hate Sesame Street when you were little too? I mean it wasn’t my favorite since I didn’t have access to the show and only saw snippets here and there, but I don’t have anything against it at all. I just liked other kid’s shows more.

Were you born perfectly healthy or with some (or a lot) of health issues? Other than my dehydration issues as a newborn, I was a pretty healthy baby.

What are those 'said' health issues? My parents didn’t know I was lactose intolerant so my body wasn’t actually digesting the milk I was fed for a few weeks, and it eventually became a problem when I got dehydrated and my stomach started deflating like crazy.

Do you collect DVDs? I wouldn’t say I collected them as a kid. I just liked having DVDs of my favorite movies, but I didn’t make it a goal to have hundreds of them.

Do you download music? I did, but I haven’t for a while now.

Or do you still go to stores and buy CDs? I don’t do that anymore. Everything is online.

#survey #surveys

1 note · View note

eldritchsurveys · 4 years

Text

977.

How old are you? >> 33.

Do you live in North America? >> Yes.

Do you love dogs? >> I do love dogs. I teeter on the fence constantly about whether I would actually want to take custody of one or not, though. What I truly want is a trained support dog -- not a full service dog, because I don’t need that level of assistance, but I guess “emotional support animal” is the term I’m looking for even though that’s gotten a bit fraught lately. Once I saw a video (which was weird to watch because it felt a bit voyeuristic, but hey) where a person was having a meltdown and the dog came and prevented them from harming themselves, and I think I could greatly benefit from that as opposed to having to hope that Can Calah (who has no real power over the body 99.8% of the time) can stop me.

Were you finished childhood and teens when Harry Potter movies came out? >> The first movie came out in 2001, which means I was 14 at the time.

Did you keep all your VHS tapes? >> I never had any.

Do you think Jack Nicholson is a good actor? >> I don’t have an opinion.

Have you ever watched an episode of “The Honeymooners”? >> I’ve watched a fair bit of it, because of the New Year’s marathons.

Have you ever owned a pair of high-top Converse? >> No, Converse shoes are uncomfortable for me.

Do you have rain boots with a cute pattern on them? >> No, I just have a pair with white polka dots because that was all I could find at the store at that time. I want to get a cute pair at some point but I keep forgetting (and I use them so infrequently that it doesn’t even seem to matter now -- snow boots are far more important here).

Would you rather eat an apple or an orange right now? >> Apple. We’re out of them, though.

Would you rather do a cartwheel on land or a backflip in water? >> I can’t do a backflip, anyway. So, cartwheel by default.

Have you ever performed on stage in front of people? >> Yeah, many times.

Were you kinda scared of the goths in high school? >> I wanted to be the goths. Unfortunately, I had very little control over what I was allowed to wear, do, or listen to, so...

What size is your mattress? (single,twin,double,queen,king) >> Twin.

Do you eat foods from all 4 food groups everyday? >> No.

Would you rather watch a movie in theater or at home? >> Right now, at home 100%. Usually there will be a few movies that I would choose to see in-theater because I want the big-screen experience, and also because I like making An Event out of things sometimes by having to actually go out somewhere to experience them.

Do you prefer brown or white rice? >> I use white rice most often. I’m not sure if brown rice would taste the same in coconut rice (which is the kind of rice I eat most often)... should try it sometime just to see.

Do you like spaghetti? >> Not especially.

What about lasagna? >> It’s all right sometimes. I just don’t eat a lot of pasta, period.

Do you celebrate Christmas? >> Yes.

Is your Thanksgiving celebrated in October too? >> No, this country’s Thanksgiving is in November.

Do you like chocolate bars? >> Not usually.

what about ice cream? >> I don’t dislike ice cream as much as I just never have a taste for it (and I’m particular about flavour).

Have you ever been stung by anything?What was it? >> No.

Do you have GOD-GIVEN(not dyed) natural brown hair too? >> I do have natural brown hair.

Or were you born blonde? >> Not even close.

Have you found a gray hair on your head or body before? >> Yeah, I have several greys. I can’t wait to grow more, it’s my favourite hair colour.

Have you ever had any suspicious moles removed? >> No.

Have you ever been screened for STDs? >> Yeah.

Are all your wisdom teeth pulled? >> No, I still have them all. The dentist suggested getting them pulled because one of them was starting to have an issue of some sort, but like... “starting to have an issue” (and only one of them, besides) isn’t enough motivation for me to get four whole teeth pulled.

Did you have your tonsils taken out? >> No.

Did you have your appendix taken out? >> No.

How many kidneys do you have?(have you donated one?) >> I haven’t donated a kidney.

Would you(to save someone)? >> If it was viable, sure, why not.

If you were dying of starvation, would you eat another human? >> I can’t imagine what it would be like to be starving, so I can’t rightly say what I would do. That sort of extreme survival situation turns you into a whole different person, I can’t speak for myself in that state until I actually know what it’s like. (I have no current moral objections to it, though, so I’m assuming I’d have less trouble eating a person than someone who finds it repugnant in normal circumstances.)

Have you ever found a bug or slug in your salad? >> No.

Do you like Harry Potter? >> I thought it was all right. I liked certain characters and plot concepts, specifically, and mostly ignored the rest of them (including... the main characters, lol). Now I have even less interest in it after watching JKR get radicalised in real time, not gonna lie. (Still reppin’ Slytherin from Malfoy Manor, though! :p)

What about Twilight? >> I never got into that, the first book bored me.

How do you feel about Lord of the rings? >> I think it’s an amazing and intricate and delightful story. But I didn’t read it, lmao. Too much book and far too much exposition in said book for my interests. The movies are what I’m into.

Are you going to see ‘The Hobbit’ when it comes out? >> I saw the whole trilogy. I never did get around to reading the book, but I’ll probably do so eventually (after my reread of Silmarillion, which comes first!).

Do you have a glass that says 'Molson Canadian’ on it? >> I don’t. I have a glass that says “Guinness” on it, though. And my name.

Do you have any collector’s glasses or cups or mugs? >> No.

Would you rather have a white fridge or a black fridge or a stainless steel fridge? >> Black or stainless steel, I’m quite done with white fridges and I never want to see one again.

Do you have a wide foot or a narrow foot or just average? >> I assume my foot is average.

Do you bite your nails when you’re stressed? >> No, I’m a picker.

Do you have to take an allergy pill daily in order to live normally? >> No, I don’t have allergies.

Are you on the birth control pill? >> Yeah. It’s more like the dysphoria control pill, for me.

Or are you trying to get pregnant? >> I would never.

You’d rather wear black sneakers or sneakers in a bright color or pattern? >> Black, because they’d match with everything I have. I’m sometimes tempted to get funky sneakers but the novelty wears off so quickly.

Has anyone ever told you they were attracted to you? >> Sure.

Are you going to drink alcohol tonight? >> Most likely not. Also, I’m a day-drinker, not a night-drinker, because I don’t like things messing with my sleep.

Have you ever heard of the Canadian kids show called “Mr.Dressup”? >> No. But I’m so glad Lane got to take a survey that had Canadian stuff in it instead of being inundated with common USian bullshit for once xD

What about the kids show “Fred Penner’s Place”? >> ---

Did you hate Sesame Street when you were little too? >> I didn’t.

Were you born perfectly healthy or with some(or a lot) of health issues? >> I can’t recall having any health problems whatsoever as a child.

What are those 'said’ health issues? >> ---

Do you collect DVDs? >> No.

Do you download music? >> No.

Or do you still go to stores and buy CDs? >> I haven’t bought a CD in at least a decade.

#surveys #survey #random survey

1 note · View note

floral-suits · 6 years

Text

Little Flower and Haz

There are several benefits Y/N could name off the top of her head to working at the flower shop on High Oaks. Right next door is a dainty coffee shop cleverly named ‘Deja Brew’ and across the street is a tattoo parlour that she’s been wanting to venture into for a little while now. Inside of the shop, it always smells of fresh jasmine and rose and the owner Martha is truly the sweetest. However, Y/N particularly likes the part about Harry, the tattoo artist who periodically comes inside to sketch flowers in the corner to then turn them into art on someone’s body.

The first time she met him was around five weeks into her job. She was carefully watering the daisies near the front of the shop when the bell near the entrance rang, signalling a customer. She looked up for a second from the flowers, looked back down, and then quickly sprang her eyes back up again. It was quite a surprise for her, seeing who just walked in. It’s not an unusual occurrence at the shop for a twenty-something year old male to walk in, it is unusual when the said male has tattoos wrapping their way up and down his arms and several facial piercings. However, he doesn’t seem nearly as scary as the usual tattooed boy is to Y/N. The smile on his face is rather endearing, as are the messy curls on his head.

“You aren’t Martha,” he murmured under his breath once his gaze finally reached her face. His smile wasn’t as bright anymore.

She took in a deep breath and started to repeat the standard introduction that had been drilled into her brain, making sure to put the crooked smile that Martha seemed to love dearly on her face, “Hi, I’m Y/N,” she started, taking notice of the rose tattoo that crawled up his right arm, “I’ve been helping out Martha for a little while now. Can I possibly help you with anything? Perhaps one of our roses could interest you?”

His eyebrows creased in as he frowned at the girl, looking almost concerned. Y/N doesn’t know why. “It seems it’s been far too long since I’ve last visited. How long did you say you’ve been working here, love?”

His british accent became more apparent as he annonciated his words. “Just over a few weeks now, long enough for her to trust me to open up, I guess!” she tried to joke, a light blush covering the apples of her cheeks. He didn’t laugh with her. “Do you think she’ll be back later? I’ve got to go but she’s got something that I need.”

About a hundred thoughts crossed through her mind as she processed the small amount of information that he’s given her. Martha couldn’t possibly have something him, could she?

“It’s just me today, maybe I could inform her next time I see her?” she proposed, trying to get the boy to leave as soon as possible. She didn’t want to tell him that Martha was coming back later that day, he was becoming more and more sketchy by the minute and she still had no idea of his relationship to the shop nor his relationship to Martha. “That sounds alright, yeah,” he agreed distractedly. Before she’s able to ask for his name for Martha, the bell was chiming again and he’s out the door. That was it.

It was only two hours later when Martha scurried inside, back from taking her cat Milly to the vet. Milly had tried to eat one of Martha’s succulents that she hadn’t gotten to hanging up yet and was throwing it up. Y/N, of course, already knew this and just didn’t want to reveal it to the tattooed boy.

“Y/N, darling, how are you? Were you okay opening up by yourself? Any customers?” she questioned, giving the girl a large hug and putting her cardigan down. “It was all good, there was an odd visitor though. He was asking for you,” Y/N revealed, walking out of the hug and towards buckets of soil.

“Did you catch his name?”

“Nope, he looked around my age though. Had a lot of tattoos on his arms. And he had an eyebrow piercing I think, or maybe it was a nose piercing…” Y/N tried to describe the boy while scooping up some of the dirt and then replanting a few of the garden plants, “He was pretty tall, and his hair was nice and curly.”

Her eyes flickered up to Martha’s, watching her cover up her mouth in attempt to muffle her laughter. “Darling, that’s Harry. He’s one of my nephews, couldn’t hurt a fly if he wanted to.”

“Are you sure? He seemed so sketchy. His words were, ‘She’s got something I need.’ What could he need from you?” she began to voice her concerns, scared that he’d be some kind of gangster… he sure looked like one. She still couldn’t understand how in H-E double hockey sticks the sweetest woman that she knows and that boy could be related.

“Couldn’t hurt a fly if he wanted,” Martha repeated, “He’s just got too much of a fragile masculinity, he’s a real soft one at heart. I bet he came in for the rose that I planted in the back, he’s the one who wanted it.” Y/N was still unable to comprehend that Harry wasn’t anyone of harm, “Him?” she gasped, “I don’t believe you!”

And she was perfectly entitled to question his wants, he just walked away, ending their conversation effectively and she had no say in the matter. He was domineering in his actions and not at all inviting like Martha was to Y/N when the two had first met. Not to mention, his intentions seem blurred. Why would he want a flower?

Martha shook her head at Y/N’s surprised face, still quite amused at the situation but happy that the two had finally met. She’d been wanting Harry to get a nice girl on his side for far too long, someone different from the girl who’s always hanging at his side with no manners. What was her name again? Oh yeah, Camille. “Yes, him.” She chuckled, not trying to hide it anymore, “Why don’t you go deliver it to him? He works across the block at the tattoo parlour.”

While Y/N had always wanted to check out the shop, she didn’t really want to see Harry again. His presence was just a bit unsettling, he stood a bit too tall and his voice was a bit too monotone. Nonetheless, she didn’t have much of a choice because Martha was already halfway across the shop, wrapping up the rose in a light pink ribbon and handing it off to Y/N. By the time she finally opened her mouth to argue, Martha was shooing her out the door.

So now they’re here.

Harry certainly wasn’t expecting the girl he had found inhabiting his aunt’s shop to walk into the parlour where he works. But here she is; the same eyes staring back at him that he had seen earlier in the morning. His gaze drops to her hand which carries the wine-red rose that he’d asked Martha for and then it moves back up to her face. She seems just a bit distressed with a slight squint in her eye that Harry wouldn’t have been able to notice if he wasn’t examining her.

“Thought I asked for Martha, not you.”

She blushes again and Harry can’t tell if he hates the look of it or if he wants the rest of her body red as well. He settles on the latter of the two. “I know but she insisted that I came instead, wanted me to deliver this to you… what do you need with it anyway?”

He sighs and decides to let her in on just why he needs the rose in the first place, “I’ve been working on some flower tattoos for a little while now. Needed some to sketch, y’know? So I told Martha and she insisted on growing some specially for me. Guess this is one of ‘em.”

“Are you any good?” she asks. Once seeing the smirk growing on his face, she quickly adds on, “At the sketches, that is.”

He walks up to her. (Closer than he’s ever been, yet). He’s close enough for her to make out far and few moles and marks on his face. She can see the faint gold in his green eyes and she can smell the faded scent of cigarettes and mint on his breath as he breathes out. He snatches the rose out of her delicate hands and places it on a nearby counter, “I’d like to think so, petal.”

----✿✿_____

The following morning is bright; Y/N wakes up at six o’clock to the sounds of birds tweeting and to the image of the sun rising through her open window. She’s unable to fall back asleep, her curiosity hasn’t faded and her mind is awake, wandering into a region that seems to be specifically dedicated to Harry. She doesn’t know why; he’s been nothing but rude to her and she isn’t even sure he’s that good of an artist. But somehow, she’s still interested. So she hauls herself out of bed and goes into the shop two hours earlier than when it opens.

She finds herself staring at the wall of peonies in the back for a good minute before plucking a mahogany one out from the middle. She wraps it in a ribbon similarly to how Martha had done and finds a card and pen in one of the drawers nearby. Before she knows it, she’s out the door and heading towards Harry’s tattoo parlour.

Now as for Harry, he likes to enter his shop bright and early to get started on whatever he’s unable to finish from the previous night. And that just so happens to be the rose. He’s walking up the steps to open up his shop when he sees her. She’s delicately placing what looks to be a peony onto the handle of the door. He walks up behind her body and plants a hand on her shoulder, “What are you doing, petal?”

She freezes up for a second and then relaxes her stance; maybe it’s from the shock of his presence and maybe it’s from the unexpected pet name. Who knows. “I-I brought you a flower. Thought you’d like it,” she quickly says, handing him the peony that she was starting to attach to the knob. When he doesn’t immediately react, she takes a step back.

He grabs her hand in his own before she’s able to rush away, unable to deny the tingling sensation that he gets from holding her smaller hand in his. “I do. It’s gorgeous,” he murmurs, bringing it up to his face with his free hand for a closer inspection. Her eyes watch as he dances it around, eyeing the soft perennial plant.

Y/N takes the chance to escape the situation as Harry admires the peony, muttering something unintelligible and running off towards her own job. Harry finds himself in Y/N’s shoes, watching her run off with no goodbye. He wants to just turn around and go back into his own shop but instead finds himself keeping an eye on her figure until it makes its way into Martha’s shop safely. It’s an odd urge, really; feeling the need to make sure the girl is safe. However the urge that’s much more odd is the one to go after her and give her bum a few swats, let her know that she isn’t to run away from him. He doesn’t act on that, instead waiting until she’s inside and turning himself around to unlock the door to his own parlour.

Once inside the parlour and after letting out a needed exhale, he gently unwraps the ribbon and finds a small note written on a piece of stationary with small pink hearts on the border and ‘a note from Y/N’ written at the top in a cute font. It makes a small smile appear on his face, as it’s just what he’d have expected from a girl like her… what even is a girl like her?

This one seems to fit your taste. Maybe you can make something out of this as well.

xx Y/N (the flower girl)

He collects the note in one of the several empty drawers and delicately places the flower inside of a vase (like he had done the rose after he was sure Y/N was gone). He finds himself his leather sketchbook that’s getting to its final few pages from all of his scribblings and a soft 2B pencil before sitting up on a stool and getting to work on the flower.

Within a few minutes, he’s crafted the basic anatomy of the peony and within an hour, the intricate detailing into each of the petals and finally lining it all. He can tell that it’s much more than just a sketch to him when he takes a step back and sees just what work he’s put into it. Instead of keeping it in his sketchpad for future reference like he does most designs, he tears it out and writes down a short note in his chicken scratch (he realizes that he had never actually thanked her for the flower, only admired the peony). It’s just nearing eight o’clock in the morning when he walks the street to Martha’s shop.

He makes eye contact with his aunt as he delicately places the sketch down, letting her know with a small nod in the direction of Y/N that it’s for her. All the confirmation that he gets of her knowing his message is a knowing smile. It’s enough for him though, so he walks back down into the shop and gets ready for his first client of the day; a good friend of his named Zayn who’s been looking for a mandala tattoo already in mind.

----✿✿_____

The first customer to grace the shop with his presence is a boy most likely around Y/N’s age looking quite frantic. He’s got blue eyes and lightly bleached hair, she finds him quite cute if she’s being honest. Certainly not comparable to Harry, though. Wait, what?

Y/N doesn’t feel the need to call up Martha to the front for help as she already knows just what the boy needs with just a single look at his face.

“What did you forget about?” she questions with a roll of her eyes. She’s seen this scenario so many times in the month that she’s been working; hectic boyfriend who forgot about said event until the last minute. It can range from anniversaries to birthdays, Y/N feels like she’s seen it all in her short amount of time at Martha’s shop. She quite enjoys guessing what it could be (although she doesn’t always get it right). The worst she's encountered would have to be from her own ex Liam. He had forgotten completely about their anniversary. He came tumbling in to the flower shop that she worked at just minutes before closing time at seven, begging for her forgiveness. And no, he didn't buy her any flowers while he was there. For some reason that she now regrets, she forgave him. It was only after she found him cheating on her with a long legged blonde a few weeks later that she said her goodbyes.

She’s snapped out of her thoughts as the boy lets out a well needed exhale, seeing that she’ll be able to help him easily. “Need to get a bouquet, maybe some lilies… daisies? Nothing too much. My girlfriend’s little sister is graduating junior high today, she’ll have my head if I don’t bring something for her.”

Y/N works her way around the counter, grabbing an array of lavender, white, and purple flowers from around the shop. The boy watches in wonder but doesn’t say a word as she crafts a beautiful bouquet, wrapping it in first a small layer of tissue paper and then some sort of a recycled paper, tying it off with a pretty bow like she did Harry’s peony. “Does this work? Feel like it’s a nice blend for a girl her age, yeah?”

Instead of a verbal answer, she finds herself in the blonde’s arms with several pecks placed on her cheek, “You’re a lifesaver, thank you so much!” She watches in shock as he puts down a fifty dollar bill and walks out the door. It’s an extra thirty dollars that and sixteen cents over the price that he needed to pay but Y/N doesn’t bother running after him as he scrambles out the door hoping that he isn’t too late, instead just laughing.

It’s only after Y/N deals with the boy that Martha hands over a small piece of paper. “Lovie, would you look at what Harry drew? He’s got real talent, that boy,” she chuckles, “Say, you were thinking about getting a tattoo not too long ago, bet I could get him to fix something up for you!”

“Maybe!” she chuckles, admiring the artwork. She can’t deny the fact that she’s intrigued by the idea; there’s always been an appeal to tattoos from her, especially when the tattoo artist is ridiculously attractive. The idea that she can get an image embedded on her skin forever is something so interesting to her. It could be arousing in some ways, like a hickey that won’t ever go away, a mark from someone that’s permanent. Not to mention the masochist in her that finds the pain of a needle so pleasurable. No one would ever guess that she’d be into things like that with her innocent, delicate looks.

Flipping the piece of paper over, Y/N finds a handwritten note that she can only assume is addressed to her. In contrast to her own handwriting, his isn’t as ditzy and his letters aren’t curved. She’s able to hear his playful, yet somehow patronizing tone in her head as she reads it to herself.

Thank you for the flower, petal. Maybe next time you can stay and watch me draw instead of running off without a goodbye.

Harry

She decides that next time, she will.

----✿✿_____

“Harry, wait up!” Y/N shouts, jogging after his abnormally large frame that’s headed towards the door. She’s got a peach coloured dahlia in one hand and is reaching for his hand with the other, not really sure how she wants to confront him.

He stops walking at the sound of her voice and turns around, “Got the note, I see.” A light blush coats her face like it had when she first tried to crack a joke with him and she nods. “Don’t like it when you run away from me. Not nice of you at all, petal. Glad you came to your senses,” he reprimands her, holding open the door for her to walk in. Before her mouth is able to fully open in order to make some sort of an excuse, he’s guiding her inside with a hand on her back. She can feel the chill from his rings even with the thin layer of clothing. He pretends not to notice as she shivers at his touch, “Know that you don’t have to clock in until ten thirty. Don’t wanna hear any excuses.”

He sits himself down on one of the couches in the waiting area and wraps an arm around her body so she has to sit next to him rather than on one of the love seats. He’s much more touchy, Y/N notices. “Tell me about that flower you’ve got there, would you?”

His question reminds her why she had followed him down into the parlour in the first place, “This is a mignon dahlia,” she starts, fidgeting with the stem of it in her hands, “they’re apart of the daisy family actually, Asteraceae. They’re really pretty, I think. They’re quite sensitive though, need a lot of care. Y’want to make sure it stays in rich soil, they require plenty of water and fertilizer. Pieces of work, they are. If you want them to properly bloom, make sure to give it good care.”

Somehow in Harry’s mind, the flower that she’s speaking so passionately about reminds him of the girl in front of him; so delicate and fragile. She’s got this innocent and pure vibe to her and while Harry doesn’t know much more than a name and job, he feels the need to protect her and keep her safe.

She watches with wide eyes as he grabs the flower from her hands, “Would you let me braid it into your hair? Promise I’m good, my sister says so.”

She nods, a laugh escaping her lips which then causes Harry to do the same. “Let’s get down on the floor and then in between my knees, petal. Get comfortable for me.” So she does, sitting herself in between his long legs. She sits up straight but is immediately scolded with Harry pulling on a section of her hair just enough to get her attention without actually hurting her in any way, “Said get comfortable, not stiff. You need to relax for me.” She decides to listen to him and relaxes her back against his front with her eyes closed, “Good girl.”

He splits her hair into three sections, starting a basic plait down her shoulder. He’s not proud to admit it but it’s the only plait that he knows how to do. Then again, it’s not like he has any reason to know anymore styles; he’s braided his sister Gemma’s hair when he was little, his own a few times for fun back when his hair was at his shoulders, and now Y/N’s.

----✿✿_____

It develops into some sort of a routine for her; gifting Harry a flower and a kiss on the cheek before she goes in to work. This morning, she decides to pluck a peruvian lily that has an orange coloured foliage to match the romper that she’s wearing. She doesn’t want Harry to know this, but she’s wearing the article of clothing for him after he flattered her the last time she’d worn it, claiming that it ‘complimented her eyes wonderfully’. She’ll also never let Harry know about the matching lace bra and panties that she’s wearing under it. Just in case, she tells herself despite never touching Harry with more than a kiss on the cheek. But whatever, the details don’t matter that much!

Maybe she’s being a tease. She really doesn’t know though, considering their relationship is platonic for the most part. She doesn’t know if he’ll notice the lace under the romper or the small kitten heels that she’s got on her feet.

The only thing she’s certain of is that she shouldn’t be distracting him (too much). She isn’t even working today, she’s just come to be around the person that she’s slowly grown a crush on. She asked earlier in the week if she could watch him tattoo someone. She tried to make it seem as if she wanted to see the art process but it’d be a lie if she said her reasoning behind wanting to watch him work was anything other than seeing his arms flex as he grips the machinery and his eyes focus intently on his art. He agreed to her request, telling her that his friend Niall was going to be getting an addition to his sleeve on the coming Saturday and that her only rule was not to distract him while working. His exact words were, ‘no shaking that bum ‘round too much. Need to concentrate’ which she’s still yet to completely understand. However, it’s now Saturday and Y/N never made any promises.

He notices. Right away. The peruvian lily is added to his collection (which at this point is filled with at least a dozen different coloured flowers from Y/N) and Harry finds himself toying with one of the straps of her romper. “Did you wear this for me, petal?” he hums.

“Maybe,” she smiles shyly, happy that he’s focused his attention on her but slightly surprised.

That’s when Niall enters the studio, causing the two to break apart.

“Harry!” he greets, giving him some sort of side hug. He’s clearly one of the more touchy kinds of people. His attention quickly turns to the smaller girl standing beside Harry. Recognition graces his features as he scans her face, “Hey, aren’t you the one who helped me get flowers fo’ my girlfriend’s sister?”

Her eyes lighten up, now knowing that the man isn’t going to be any intimidating. She’s now able to identify his blue eyes in her memory. “Yeah, say, did she like them?”

His face bulges, “She loved them, darling. I have to ask, though, what are you doing here?”

Harry joins the conversation again to explain that Y/N wanted to watch him do his art. Niall lets out a laugh and lets her know that he’s completely fine with it as they all make their way to one of the rooms, the design already sketched out and ready to be tattooed on to Niall’s skin.

Y/N sits down by the side on one of the couches in the room as Niall sits himself down on the adjustable chair and rolls up his sleeves to reveal the start of something wrapping around his arms. While the both of them get comfortable, Harry rolls a pair of latex gloves onto his hands, she’s able to clearly see the indentation of his rings underneath. “So, first things first, we’ve gotta stay sanitary. Gonna have Niall shave down the area and wash it and then we’ll put down the stencil and get going.”

The preparation goes by quite quick and Niall’s completely relaxed as the needle touches his skin for the first time today. Meanwhile, Y/N gasps causing both Harry and Niall to laugh.

She watches in wonder as Harry goes on, first lining the general shapes and then going in with different shades and pigments. Harry explains what he’s doing at first but stops talking as he gets more concentrated. After about two or so hours of watching Niall’s almost bare arm transform, she begins to get restless. But hey, don’t blame her! Watching Harry’s muscles flex as he grips the machine can keep her entertained, yes. Watching Harry make art can keep her entertained, yes. But not after two hours and not when he won’t pay her any attention because he refuses to make a single mistake.

The tattoo is probably around half way done when she gets up and starts walking around and trying to look from different angles. Harry doesn’t pay too much mind to her other then a quick glance. But she needs more than that. So she does what any girl would do to get a boy’s attention; the bend and snap. She’s learned from the best (that being Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde). Somewhere in her head, there’s a voice saying that it probably isn’t a good idea to purposely distract Harry while he’s putting something permanent on Niall but oh well, she ignores it.

She learns quickly that Harry doesn’t like being distracted from his work. At all.

“Y/N, sit still like a good girl, would you? Only a little while longer,” he asks, no, commands, stopping the machine entirely so he’s able to glare her down. He subtly adjusts his pants before pressing his foot back down on the pedal to finish the final touches. It looks amazing, Y/N can’t deny it. While Niall stands up to check out the magic that Harry’s done on him, Harry walks over to Y/N’s figure that’s still on the couch.

Good, he thinks. She’s clearly rethought her actions and he can tell from the way her head lifts up with a look of hope as she mouths the words ‘sorry’. But that doesn’t make up for the fact that he very easily could’ve fucked up Niall’s arm and for that, he continues to glare at her.

After walking Niall to the front and waving him goodbye with his newly inked arm, Harry whisps her away to one of the more private areas of the shop. One of his hands wraps around behind her neck, tilting it up so she’s forced to look into his emerald eyes, “Were you trying to tease me, my little flower?”

“No, I--” she’s quickly interrupted by a tsk, “Don’t lie to me, Y/N. Y’know I don’t like liars.”

That she does most certainly know. She also happens to know that he doesn’t exactly like being distracted. He had in fact told her that before she even came in. Little minx.

She knows that he values eye contact and likes to use pet names like ‘little flower’ and ‘petal’. He rarely calls her by her real name. He doesn’t enjoy people who leave without saying goodbye and he likes having control. He raises an eyebrow when Y/N fails to answer him but then lets out a sigh, “If you try to play this game again or sommat, don’t expect to get away so easily next time.”

“‘M sorry, wasn’t trying to-” he cuts her off again by placing his ring finger against her lips. He has half the mind to replace his finger with his lips but decides against it, instead muttering, “Really wanna kiss you.”

Little does he know that Y/N has had the same urge as him for a while now.

“Please.”

Oh. Before she can process through what she had meant to say in her head and not out loud, the both of his large hands are cupping her jaw and angling it up towards him. His lips meet hers softly at first but with a growing intensity as they go on. The proximity, the Tom Ford fragrance flowing through her nostrils, and the cold metal of his lip ring that contrasts with his warm lips… it’s all too much and too little at the same time. Y/N gasps and parts her lips which only gives Harry the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, she’s kissing him back.

Her hands move up to tangle themselves in his hair on their own; she provokes a low groan from his lips by tugging up. To any bystander, it truly looks like one of those Nicholas Sparks movies that Harry would never admit to loving. The urgency, desperation, and temptation all melt on their tongues. Harry only breaks away once his breath is completely gone.

“Would you-” Harry pauses, trying to find the right words after breaking away for air. “D’you wanna go to that diner that opened downtown w’me sometime?”

“For a date?” she asks, placing one of her hands atop of his. A smile graces its way onto his lips as he nods, “Course it is, my baby flower.”

----✿✿_____

Harry is usually quite relaxed when it comes to things like getting ready for a date. Hell, with his velvet voice alone he could probably convince a girl to join him going dumpster diving. But that’s usually and this isn’t his usual. No, Y/N’s different. So instead of just throwing on a white shirt and jeans, he finds himself rolling up the sleeves of a button down in a shade that happens to match her eyes.

Meanwhile, Y/N’s stressing out all the same. She hasn’t been on a date since Liam and the insecurities from that relationship seem to be piling onto this one. She’s got on the yellow skater dress that she bought specially for the occasion but is starting to doubt her choice. Sure, Harry said it was a date but what does that even mean? Is it a friendly date? When they last saw each other, was it just a friendly kiss?

A knock sounds through her apartment walls and a quick glance at her phone tells her that it’s six thirty and Harry’s waiting for her at the door.

She slips on her flats and opens the door to a more dapper looking version of the boy she knows as Harry.

“Got’ya some flowers,” he smirks, pulling out a hand from behind his back to reveal a set of dancing ladies. He doesn’t let her know that Martha picked them out and instead allows her to set the delicate blossoms in one of the many vases on her countertop.

He leads her to his car, a Jeep Wrangler. She tries to get up into the passenger seat herself but it’s much harder than it looks and Harry eventually has to step in and pick her up. She finds herself feeling even more flustered than usual at the feeling of his hands on her but tries to ignore it the best she can. She turns a knob on the radio control, hoping to find a song that’ll calm her nerves.

The first chord to The Chain by Fleetwood Mac registers through her eardrums and she finds herself singing along to the voice of Stevie Nicks. When Harry’s voice joins along with her, she knows for sure that she made the right decision when she said yes to going out with him.

----✿✿_____

Y/N’s feeling more than a bit tipsy by the time they’re heading to Harry’s jeep. Harry hadn’t noticed how lightweighted she was until they’re both buckled in and a hand pats down on his thigh. The action doesn’t surprise him nearly as much as her words do, “Want you to give me a tattoo, Haz.”

He ignores the nickname that she branded on him, “How much did you drink, petal?”

She doesn’t answer immediately, thinking thoroughly through her answer, “Had my glass of wine. And a few sips of yours I think,” she then repeats her earlier thoughts, “Want you to tattoo me. Want your mark on me.”

She’s awarded a blank stare, “You’re drunk, little flower.”

“Pretty please?” she whimpers. If Harry’s vision wasn’t on the road, he’d be able to see the puppy dog pout on her face that always worked when she was younger and wanted something.

“How about we wait until you’re sober and if you feel the same way, we can talk some more, alright?”

She reluctantly agrees after getting him to pinky promise and after that, the rest of the drive is considerably quiet. She finds the dials on the side of the car to be more than entertaining and plays with them until they get to his house.

Once arriving there, she’s still quite awake. It’s only after gulping a few ‘pretty coloured pills’ courtesy of Harry to help cure her hangover tomorrow morning that she begins to tire out in his arms on the couch.

----✿✿_____

“What is it that got you into tattooing?” Y/N asks a few days later. She’s lounging around in Harry’s studio due to it being one of her free days and neither of them have mentioned her drunken requests.

“What is it that makes you want a tattoo?” Harry smirks, letting her know that he hasn’t forgotten whatsoever about what she said. “Want my mark on you, is that it?” he mocks her words with a raise to his voice to imitate hers.

She goes to burrow her face into his neck but is stopped by his hand grasping the upper part of her jaw, “Still up for it, petal?”

She bites her lip but doesn’t say no. “Maybe you can… I don’t know, sketch some orchids and we can go from there?”

Drunk words truly are sober thoughts. Harry is surprised by the fact that she’s actually considering it but sits up to grab his sketchbook, nonetheless.

He keeps one hand on her thigh, rubbing it softly as he begins a sketch of budding orchids, Y/N’s favorite.

Much sooner than later, he’s nearly finished and has given Y/N adequate time to back out.

“And where do you want it, petal?” Harry asks the pretty girl sitting in front of him, taking a quick glance up from his sketchbook. “Hipbone.”

He hums in response, finishing off the final touches of the orchids before placing the book to the side to give her his full attention. “I’m gonna need you to pull up your skirt then once you’re leaned back all the way, alright?”

She bites her lip before complying, inching the skirt up until it rests against her waist. Her panties are on full display and she does her best not to blush red like she normally does when she notices Harry eyeing up her thighs. His eyes snap back up to hers and meet them in a long stare. He’s the first to look away, trying to remain professional for his girlfriend’s first tattoo.

“This is gonna be cold,” he murmurs before spreading the disinfectant over her skin. There’s an amused glint in his eyes as she yelps from the cold liquid that he’s spreading over her pelvic bone. He takes his time while placing the stencil of orchids down on her, more than he usually would. The hairs on her thighs raise up as she shivers at his touch.

She stands up out of the chair to make her way over to the wall mirror, making sure that she likes the placement of it. He stays in his place by the chair, watching her with an unidentifiable expression on his face.

“Looks good, Haz,” she says, sitting back in the chair and hiking her skirt up again so he’s able to access the skin. She watches as he gets set

“And you’re sure you want this?” He asks for the last time while pulling on a pair of latex gloves, making sure that she’s positive about the permanent piece of art that’s going on her body. “Sure as I can be.”

With that, he turns on the machine. One hand goes just above her knee, curving inside towards her thigh to steady it and one gripping the tattoo machine.

The moment that the tattoo needle pierces through her skin, she’s a goner. A complete and utter goner.

The feeling of short pinches coming from it make her hot all over. There’s this subtle pleasure that she gets from the needle, perhaps its the masochist in her. Perhaps its the endorphins swimming through her blood from the thrill of it. Perhaps its nearly because Harry is her tattoo artist.

A breathy moan escapes her lips, causing Harry to squint up at her. “Need a mo’?”

She closes her eyes for just a second, collecting herself and then mutters, “I’m fine, thanks H.”

He contemplates questioning her more but ultimately decides against it and continues lining the orchid.

Eventually he gets to a more sensitive area where her skin is much thinner. That, combined with the feeling of his hot breath as he leans over her and him squeezing her thigh unknowingly all contribute to her thighs clenching together. It’s just too much and she’s almost positive that if Harry looked, he’d be able to see her soaking through her panties.

Harry certainly notices her thighs squeeze together as one of his hands happens to be in between them. They aren’t even half way through the tattoo. Harry switches the machine off entirely and sets it on the side table next to them. “Petal,” he coos, rubbing one of his thumbs on the curve of her thigh where his hand was resting earlier.

He’s clearly gathered the reaction that she’s gotten from the ink. His eyes dip down to her lace panties before going back up to her face, “Soiled your panties, my little flower.*”

Seeing the expression gracing her features, he quickly adds on, “It’s okay, petal. It’s alright.”

She looks back down towards where her hands are clutching either side of the chair tightly. “No s’not. it’s odd and I—“

He interrupts her mid rant by tapping his finger underneath her chin, signaling for her to look back up towards his eyes. When she doesn’t do so, he uses a stern voice, knowing that she won’t disobey it, “Y/N, look at me.”

She does so reluctantly and meets a darkened and slightly dilated version of the forest green that she’s grown used to.

“You like the pain?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

She nods her head, deciding it’s better not to lie to him. “We’re gonna play a game, sound good?”

She nods again.

He hums and explains, “So I’m going to finish off the rest of your tattoo. And if you can get through the time remaining without trying to rub off against me and be a good girl, I’ll lick your sweet flower out until your juices are dripping down my chin, okay?”

The filth pouring out of his mouth is nearly enough to get her off right there on the spot. She has this urge to listen to him, to show him how good she can be for him. It’s the same urge that she’s had for a while now, just much, much stronger. She nods but then confirms with a, “Please!” after seeing the look that he gives her; one that reads, ‘use your words’. It’s a look that she’s seen several times before.

He turns back on the machine and gets started back on the coloring, acting as if he hadn’t just said things that would make Martha faint if she ever heard them.

It’s nearly impossible for her to make it all the way through the rest of the tattoo. Harry doesn’t play even close to fair with his little game. He inches his hand higher and higher up her knee, pretending that he isn’t doing anything wrong whatsoever. It’s only when a whimper leaves her lips due to his hand bumping against her clit as he’s adjusting the setting on the machinery that he acknowledges the situation that he proposed earlier on.

“Gonna need to earn it, petal. Not gonna give in to your whines,” he tuts, pinching her lightly. “B-but-“ she tries to badger with him, “But what? My mouth isn’t even on you. No need for whining yet.”

He keeps going. He’s nearly done with the tattoo but he hasn’t finished his fun so he starts to tease her even more, letting his thumb drift down against her clothed clit and rub before removing it quickly. It’s subtle and quite honestly Y/N probably wouldn’t notice it if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s her clit that he’s touching.

When he finally pulls away and wipes down her hip with some anti-bacterial, she isn’t sure whether to be relieved or stressed for what’s to come.

“Did so good for me, flower,” he lets her know, looking into her eyes. He admires her for a moment, not moving, “M Proud.”

“Are you really?” She asks, dazed as can be. The adrenaline from getting the tattoo done is coming down on her, putting her mind in a state of clouds and happiness. “So proud,” he assures her, bandaging up the area.

“Still want your prize?”

“God, please!” She begs, rubbing her sticky thighs together in a desperate attempt to create at least some kind of solution to her current torment.

Harry nods, “Then that’s what you’ll get.”

He rips off the latex gloves and carelessly throws them on the ground before gathering Y/N in his arms so he can bring her to the couch that’s at the side of the room. He places her down gently, spreads her legs, and hikes up her skirt so that he has complete access to the place he’s been wanting to explore since he first saw her. One thumb rubs against the inside of her thigh and the other tugs on the side of her panties, plucking them off of her so she’s bare to him.

He first runs his fingers down and up her entrance, collecting her wetness before bringing the same finger back up to his lips and sucking it all off while maintaining eye contact, “Delicious, petal. Got me an appetite.”

He leans down to her mouth watering peach and dives in, eating her like she’s his last meal. With almost no time to take a breath, Y/N screams when he starts licking up and down with no hesitation. His stubble tickles the back of her thighs and his nose rubs against her pubic bone. He gets lost in the way she tastes, not coming up until he himself needs to take a breath and then diving straight back in. She comes undone in minutes, tears pouring out of her eyes and her back arching up off the couch. It’s only after Harry licks up every last bit of her taste that he comes up with a grin and a horrid pun that’s way late, “Get it? Soiled your panties? Because you’re a florist?”

send me feedback and requests here

find my masterlist here

1K notes · View notes

agentdagonet · 4 years

Text

Echoes, Ch. 27

Find it here on AO3

Find it here on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Fic Summary: Feet dangling off the edge of the bed, hands still resting on the earpieces of his glasses, Eggsy opened his eyes.

And promptly shut them again, screwing them shut like a child who had the distinct misfortune of biting into a raw lemon. Breathing harshly in his nose and out his mouth, trying to stave off whatever delusional panic had befallen him, Eggsy reopened his eyes.

‘Harry?’

Or: The Hologram Story Nobody Asked For

‘So, Michelle, I’ve been tasked with a special delivery.’ Harry Hart hadn’t dared to open the bag Eggsy had shoved into his arms on his way out the door. It wasn’t very heavy, which was lucky as he’d likely have dropped it if it were, but he’d fumbled it anyway much to Eggsy’s bemusement.

‘Dare I ask?’ Michelle held the door open, stifling a chuckle at the garishly wrapped item in Harry’s grip. Eggsy’s idea, then.

‘You’re free to ask but I can assure you that I would not be able to answer as I’ve no idea what it is.’ Harry placed it on the table, setting his regular contribution of chocolate biscuits beside it before pulling a chair out for Michelle. When they’d begun this odd adventure into friendship she’d protest, citing the fact they it was her house and she was a fully-grown adult. Harry had refused to sit unless she had acquiesced, and repeated the process until she had simply rolled her eyes before taking her seat and allowing him to settle her proper.

Harry Hart was nothing if not a stubborn man, and Michelle had learned that it was something he had impressed upon Eggsy as an important skill.

‘Well, let’s have a look, then.’ Michelle reached forward, surprised when it moved so easily, and picked delicately at the tape.

‘I was of the impression that wrapping was made to be ripped apart, but don’t allow me to tell you how to unwrap a present.’ Harry lifted a brow as he poured his tea, smiling around the words, and Michelle thought to herself that she was grateful to have someone who could and would poke fun at her without it being malicious. It was still a shiny and new experience, and she wasn’t sure if it would ever become the norm in her head.

‘Well on Christmas and birthdays, perhaps, but this hasn’t got an occasion attached. This is just cos, an’ that don’t happen very often where I’m from- so I’m gonna savour it.’ She tucked her tongue behind her teeth as she carefully peeled at the tape and opened one edge without ripping even the edges.

‘Well, colour me impressed; I’ve no finesse with paper or anything that could be thought of as delicate.’

‘I’m sure that ain’t true, Hart- you’re certainly doin’ well with Eggsy.’ It was amused, and maybe she was pushing a bit, but any friendship had boundaries and she had yet to learn what they were with the gentleman before her.

‘I’m more than a bit confused by your framing him as delicate- Eggsy has certainly weathered and adapted around many things that would break lesser people.’ Harry knew he was purposefully ignoring a jab of some kind, but allowed it to pass through with little analysation. There would be time for that later.

There was nothing less than immense pride in his voice, and Michelle couldn’t help but be warmed by the fact that someone else saw that in her son. She may not have been able to show it at the time, or even all that much now, but she felt like every mother felt an irrational amount of pride in their child’s accomplishments- and Harry’s pride just made her feel vindicated.

So there, society- her boy was something after all.

‘Time and shit wears at stone, Harry- just cos someone can figure their way out and about and through things don’t mean they ain’t delicate in other ways.’ Michelle wasn’t one to talk, she was learning, but she was a mum and was more than entitled to trying to protect her kid- even when he obviously didn’t need it. And, anyway, it wasn’t like he’d ever find out- it seemed like Harry was as oblivious as Eggsy was.

Why were spies so blind?

Her nail slipped at the next bit of tape and snagged the edge of the paper, tearing it. The two of them froze, Michelle’s lips slightly downturned, and Harry prepared himself for a self-deprecating comment that he would diffuse because Michelle needed to learn that she had value- but it never came.

‘Fuck it.’ She tore violently into the wrapping, only to reveal more wrapping underneath- this time stuck together with duct tape. Harry couldn’t hold in his laughter, amused beyond all reason that Eggsy had gone through the trouble of making the wrapping impossible to remove without destroying it after having watched Michelle make the attempt for several minutes on the previous layer. ‘Yeah, yeah, laugh it up- you wait ‘til your birthday and see what shit he pulls on you.’ That shut him up, and Michelle grinned to herself as she fully gave in to her desire to reveal what was hidden inside.

Harry was able to see it first, given that Michelle had somehow managed to unwrap it upside-down and was immediately faced with the back-end of a picture frame, and his breath caught in his chest.

Eggsy had made a copy of the photo from their mantle, of Lee laughing. Harry kicked himself for not having realised that the distinct lack of evidence of Lee in Michelle’s house was due to her not having anything to display far more than her not desiring to. But, the frame was in two parts, and in the other section sat a photo of Eggsy from his training, curled in his siren suit with a book and JB beside him. He was smiling softly, and with the two side-by-side Harry was easily able to pick out Lee in Eggsy’s face.

Michelle turned the frame about, finally seeing the photos, and dropped the frame to the tabletop to cover her mouth with both hands. Harry struggled with himself, unwilling to cross a boundary he wasn’t sure existed but wishing desperately to provide comfort, before placing a hand on her shoulder. She leant into the touch, and Harry sighed softly at not having read the situation wrong; he could feel the hitch in her breathing as her eyes darted from photo to photo, fingers trembling slightly against her lips. He noticed a glint from the discarded wrapping, and reached his other hand to examine it, pulling out a thin gold chain. It looked old, a style he’d likely see in an antiques shop more than a proper jewellers, and there was a pendant at the end, shaped like a book.

He placed it beside the frame, unwilling to pry further, and when Michelle realised it was there she began to cry in earnest. Her shaking hands picked it up, looking but not really seeing it based on the glazed look in her eyes, and opened the pendant. There were a couple of older photographs inside, but she turned a page and there were Eggsy and Daisy across from herself and Lee. Harry recognised the photo with Daisy from their last outing, when Eggsy’d demanded a selfie from the swings.

‘How did he find this?’ Michelle whispered it, obviously not expecting an answer, and Harry wondered at the significance. ‘It was my mum’s,’ she said suddenly, not looking away from her hands but speaking at a tone that showed she was speaking to him and not the air, ‘I had to pawn it off when Daisy was born, Dean’d never intended on having a kid and we couldn’t afford much in the way of nappies and such at the beginning. So I went down and gave 'way what little I’d inherited for enough to get by for a bit- it’s been years. I gave up on havin’ anything of them after that. They’d never been big on photos or stuff.’ She flipped back to the first set of photos, and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Well, now I know where he got his ears from. And, goodness, there’s that mole- it’s surprising to see what all isn’t entirely unique.’ Michelle tucked away the knowledge that Harry’s knowledge of her son extended to beauty marks on his neck and leant further into him to show the photos more fully. ‘He certainly got his grandmother’s eyes.’

‘Yeah; my mum was a heartbreaker and Eggsy’s no better. Between his jaw and his confidence I bet there’s loads of people falling all over themselves for a chance with him, if he’d take notice.’

‘Well if not then they ought to be.’ Harry stated it matter of factly, as if anything else were unthinkable, and Michelle wondered if he knew he’d spoken aloud at all. But, if she brought attention to it he’d likely pull himself back into his shell- so she’d let it be.

He’d figure it out in his own time.

‘I never thanked you, Harry.’

‘Pardon?’ What was it with Unwins and throwing him entirely off-kilter in as few words as possible?

‘For the part you played in Eggsy’s confidence. And loads else besides; you’ve single-handedly turned the Unwin legacy around.’ She nudged him with the shoulder that was closest, and put the locket down before patting him with a hand.

‘A full 360, perhaps, over the course of twenty years. You’re back where you ought to have been from the start.’ Harry refused to meet her gaze, a flush pulling its way up his neck, and Michelle snickered to herself before impulsively ruffling his hair. Harry’s head snapped in her direction, eyebrows at his hairline, and Michelle couldn’t have stopped the cackle that escaped from her if she’d bothered to try.

‘You hold yourself to too high a standard, Hart. Let yourself have a bit of fun, love.’ It’s huffed out between bouts of laughter, but Harry couldn’t help but be charmed by her efforts. ‘If I told you once I’ve told you a dozen times that you didn’t fuck our lives up, you did the best you could with what you had and I just… didn’t.’ She shrugged, seemingly careless but her eyes reflected a deep-seated sorrow that Harry wished weren’t present. ‘But you’ve gone above and beyond whatever perceived call of duty you was actin’ for. Just… let yourself be. Can’t move ahead if you’ve got your head in the past.’

He had no idea of how to respond to that, so he hummed low and casually lifted a hand to fix his hair whilst avoiding eye contact. Michelle stood from the dining table, taking the framed photograph to a small table by the door and propping it up before nodding to herself.

‘It’ll do, for now. And now, Harry, you’re gonna spend the next twenty minutes catching me up on the stupid shit Eggsy’s done since I saw you last.’

#echoes fic #dagonet writes #kingsman #kingsman fics

2 notes · View notes

blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

Text

First Night of Forever

Based on this prompt from this list. - Thanks friend!

TenTooxRose, M-rated with descriptive foreplay. @doctorroseprompts

Rose put it off as long as possible, but eventually her parents said goodnight and she knew she could avoid it no longer. She and the Doctor were sitting together on the couch in the family room, the crackle of the fireplace the only sound in the otherwise silent room. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He smiled, eyes brightening, and she marveled at the fact that he was here. In the family room, not six inches from her. Twenty-four hours earlier she’d been despairing of ever seeing him again, and now she had him for the rest of her life. The rest of their lives, of roughly equal length if he and Donna were correct.

(She hoped they were.)

“Are you tired?”

He shook his head, yawning even as he said, “No, not at all.”

Bursting into giggles, some of the tension in her chest loosened. “We should go to bed.” Standing she extended her hand to him, which he took eagerly and swung between them as they headed for the stairs.

Without discussion she led him to her bedroom, watching his face carefully as he stepped inside for the first time. The room was fairly impersonal, the few pictures being of her parents and brother, Mickey, his gran.

“This is nice,” he observed, sticking his hands in his pockets with a neutral expression. “Not very you though.”

Rose shrugged, shutting the door behind him and sinking onto the bench at the foot of her bed. “Didn’t see the point in going all out with the decoratin’; spent most of my time trying to get home.”

The Doctor nodded, rocking slightly on his heels. Seeing him in her room was sending the butterflies in her stomach soaring, a nervous energy making her bounce up and head for the door. “You probably need something to sleep in; I know you won’t like it, but your best bet is to borrow from Mickey for tonight. He certainly won’t be around to mind.”

“Do I?”

“What?”

He tugged at his ear, eyes darting around the room at anything and everything but her face. “I mean, I have pants on. Can we… would you mind terribly if we cuddled? It’s just I’ve so missed holding you at night.”

A smile spread across her face, and she nodded, laughing slightly. “Yeah. Um, course. I’m going to change in the loo, you… get comfortable. Make yourself at home.” She winced, but he didn’t seem bothered by the idea; if anything, he seemed thrilled with the offer.

Discreetly grabbing a cotton nightgown and clean knickers from a drawer, she shut herself in the bathroom as he sat on the bench and leaned over his trainers.

Resting her back against the door, she allowed the happiness in her chest to grow until she was grinning madly.

The Doctor was in her bed again, and the universe was starting to make sense.

By the time she exited the loo showered, shaved, and ready for something other than sleep, he had stripped to his pants and was examining her bookshelf. Leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, she admired the view. He looked exactly as she remembered, down to the mole, and she grinned at the sight of it.

“Hey.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, finding that he’d turned to face her. His smile fell as he took her in, gaze going dark as it trailed deliberately over her. Her simple cotton nightgown was hardly lingerie, but still molded to her chest and hips, ending at midthigh and leaving the rest of her legs bare.

(At the end of the day, his tastes were still ‘Typical Bloke’.)

The Doctor swallowed harshly, staring at her chest, and she sauntered towards him. “Hi. D’you want the loo?”

“I want you,” he practically growled, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards him.

She went more than willingly, laughing as she threw her arms around him and tugged his head down to hers. The first brush of lips set her blood on fire, the simmering desire leftover from their kiss on the beach that morning sparking into an inferno. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, gripping his hair as he carried her to bed, laying her on it without letting her go.

They stayed like that, half on the bed and snogging madly, for what felt like ages as desire built in her. Hands roamed madly, relearning once-familiar curves and angles, everything too much and yet not enough, never enough.

Eventually they parted for breath, panting gasps that made her chest heave and his eyes go impossibly darker, and she was reaching for the slit in his boxers when a large yawn ripped it’s way free, a full face-scrunch that she was certain was horrifying in it entirety. “Oh, fuck! Sorry!”

After a moment the Doctor began to laugh, gently freeing himself from her grip in favor of climbing onto the bed beside her. “Long day?”

Shifting around until she sat cross-legged in front of him, so close their knees touched, Rose smiled sheepishly. “Long five years.”

A shadow crossed his face, lips drooping to a frown, before he visibly rallied. “We’re here now. The multi-verse is safe, the stars will no longer disappear, and I can see your knickers. Far as I can tell, all is well.”

“Back to quoting Harry Potter, are we?” she asked with a grin. “Stopped your ranting about Cursed Child?”

“I just think-”

“No,” Rose interrupted firmly, holding up a hand to dissuade him. “Uh-uh. Not happening. Not tonight, anyway.”

“What is happening tonight, then?” The Doctor settled his palms on her knees, startling her with their warmth. He’d never been warm before, had always been cool to the touch.

Another yawn overcame her, eyes blinking closed. “Sleep. Maybe you can kiss me to sleep. Then, in the morning, provided Tony doesn’t interrupt, maybe some other bed-appropriate verbs that begin with ‘s’.”

“Oh? Like what?”

They climbed under the covers together, curling into each other. Before Rose had always preferred to spoon, liked the solidness of his body at her back, but at least for tonight she wanted to see him, wanted to ensure his face was the last thing she saw before sleep.

“Spooning.” He hummed in agreement, slotting their knees together and laying his arm over her hip. “Snogging.”

“We’ve five years to catch up on, after all.” Tiny kisses were rained over her nose and cheeks, making her giggle as she rested her palm over his single beating heart.

“Maybe, if you behave, even some shagging.”

The Doctor fucking giggled, kissing her lips and reaching down to encourage her knee to hitch higher on his hip. “Promises, promises.”

Rose woke on a sigh, lazy arousal humming in her veins. She tensed for only a moment before recognizing the body pressed against her, limbs entangled.

“Good morning,” the Doctor greeted her with a chirp, snuggling closer and trailing his fingers over her side.

“Morning.” She would never be a morning person, but had certainly improved – once upon a time such a cheery tone would’ve been met with a grumpy fuck you, before she rolled over and went back to sleep.

Now, she was content to doze in his arms, breathing in his scent and letting desire build as his fingertips trailed over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, and her eyes snapped open.

“Say it again, please.”

His eyes met hers, slight surprise there as though he’d thought she’d been asleep. “I love you, Rose Tyler. With all my hearts. Heart. Whatever.”

Rose beamed at him, tears of happiness gathering at the corner of her eyes as she stared at him, drinking in the sight of his face. “I love you too, Doctor. With all my heart.”

They kissed, and it was only moments before he nudged her onto her back, rolling over her. “Can I?”

“Of course.”

They worked together, her lowering his boxers as he tried ineffectually to push the nightgown over her head. Taking advantage of his distraction she forced him onto his back, straddling his chest and arching her spine before removing the gown, baring herself to his view.

The wonderous and awed look she received in response made her laugh; it was, perhaps, more amazed than at most of the natural wonders of the universe they’d stumbled on across their travels.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, hands tentatively reaching to palm her breasts. “And I’ve seen most of the beautiful things in existence.”

Once upon a time, in another universe, she would’ve made a joke. I’m already a sure thing, no need to lie, or And I haven’t even take off my knickers yet.

But now, now, after everything she’d fought through to get to this moment, she just smiled. “So are you.”

Bending down to kiss him, she was grateful to be mostly hidden from view when her bedroom door flew open, her brother racing inside shouting her name.

Rose shrieked in surprise, tumbling sideways and fumbling the sheet up high enough to cover her chest. “Tony!”

“Rose, the Doctor’s still here!” the little boy cried, not giving a second’s thought to crawling up the bed and snuggling between them, though thankfully staying above the covers. “Isn’t that awesome?”

“It’s very awesome,” she agreed, carefully propping herself up on her forearm to catch the Doctor’s eye and mouth sorry.

He merely shrugged, giving her a good-natured grin, and rolled onto his side. “Tony.”

“Will you teach me about the stars?” Tony flipped onto his front before pushing up on his knees, giving him an even stare. “Please? Rosie tells the best stories, and she said yours are even better!”

“Did she now?” He sent her a teasing smile. “Well, that just so happens to be true. However, um, you should go have breakfast first and we’ll see you soon. We were in the middle of something when you burst in.”

Rose smoothed her brother’s hair as he drooped. “I know you’re happy he’s here, so am I, but it changes things a little, yeah? You know how you’re not allowed to burst into Mummy and Daddy’s room? It’s like that for us, now.”

He gave them both a calculating look, before scowling at the Doctor. “You’re supposed to be Rosie’s friend!”

“I… am?” He glanced between the two Tylers, bewilderment evident.

Tony huffed, crossing his arms. “Friends don’t put their pee-pees in friends,” he said knowingly, making Rose snort with laughter.

“Anthony Prentice Tyler! Where on Earth did you hear that?”

“Mickey,” came the unsurprising reply. “He said this might happen.” Tony pouted. “Why’d he leave me?”

“He wanted to go home, mate,” Rose sighed, one hand keeping the sheet up while the other ruffled his hair. “This wasn’t home, you know that.”

“Still.” Tony stared down at Rose’s duvet. “D’you want me to go?”

Rose warred with herself; the easy answer was yes, but she didn’t want to hurt him. “Tony…”

“Okay.” He didn’t look too bothered. “D’you want me to close the door?”

“Please.”

He trudged across the room to the door, almost closing it before poking his head back in. “Oh! I almost forgot.”

“Yes?”

“Mummy said to tell you if you make a baby can you please have a girl? I think you should have a boy though. I could use a friend.”

And the door slammed, taking any last vestiges of the sexy mood with it as they stared at each other.

The Doctor finally broke the silence, running his fingers through his hair. “So, breakfast?”

It was only two o’clock when he started yawning, and Rose had to bite back a laugh. “Tired?” She wasn’t surprised; all they’d done was lounge around the pool, which sounded relaxing until you factored in the energetic four-year-old who was thrilled to have his sister home in the middle of the day. They’d spent most of the afternoon playing with him, though Rose had mostly been pushed aside when the Doctor had started throwing him through the water.

“No.” A louder yawn belied his words, and he smiled sheepishly. “Maybe a bit.”

“Right.” Rose hauled herself out of the pool, padding over to the cabana and spreading towels over the lounge chairs. These specific ones were designed to be joined to fit two adults, and once she was satisfied called the boys over. “Oi!”

They splashed their way to the edge before climbing out and coming over to her, both finding it hilarious to press themselves against her and share the soaking-wetness of their suits. Tony pulled away first, giggling, and Rose had to fight to keep her expression even as she realized the Doctor was using her body to hide an erection – one he was happily pushing against her bum.

“Tony, are you tired?” she asked. She knew he would deny it even as he yawned, but they had to do the whole song and dance.

“No.”

“Well, the Doctor and I are. Will you come lie with us?”

“Really?” he perked up. “You’re not gonna make a baby now?”

Rose shook her head laughing, pointing her brother towards the chairs and gesturing for him to lie down on the edge. “No, we’re not gonna make a baby, silly. We’re just going to take a nap.” Curling up behind him, she glanced back at the Doctor with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t want a nap,” the four-year-old fussed, even as he snuggled back into his sister’s arms. Meanwhile the Doctor was molding himself to her back, and she relaxed into the cushions. Two of her favorite boys were pressed against her, and for the first time in a long time she felt safe and drowsy.

“That’s okay, we do. You can just lie with us.” She would bet even money that he would be the first one out, though the Doctor’s breathing was deepening with every second behind her.

She didn’t quite manage to drop off, though both Tony and the Doctor did quickly enough. Content to just lay there with them, she thought about everything she’d suffered to get to this point. Tears leaked from her eyes, and she let herself quietly cry for the version of the man behind her who had been so lost, so devastated that he’d allowed himself to die under the Thames. For version of the man who’d had to push her away, to walk away from her on that beach, willingly giving her up so she could be here. For her brother’s future she would now get to see, that she’d been willing to sacrifice for the Doctor.

She thought about the first Doctor she’d known, with his leather jacket and easy grin. He had been heavy on her mind when she was preparing for the jumps, and she had chosen her outfit in his honor. He was the one she’d fallen in love with, and he was the one she’d first risked everything to return to.

“It’s okay,” the Doctor whispered, and she started at realizing he was awake. “Go ahead and cry.”

Carefully releasing Tony and rolling over, she buried her head in his chest as she let the sobs overwhelm her. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he whispered, holding her tightly and pressing kisses to her forehead and crown. “So, so much. Half the reason Martha left was ‘cause I wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Rose sniffled, giggling. “She was amazing. Her and Donna both. I’m so glad you found good friends.”

“They weren’t you,” he shrugged, “but I loved them just the same. Not the same the same, of course, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you – but they both helped me get back on my feet. Donna by yelling at me, naturally.”

“Naturally,” she repeated, snickering. “I’m not surprised.”

Resting her head on his chest she let his heartbeat calm her own, as she relaxed against him. “Sorry if all of his talk – and by extension, Mum’s – of kids is bothering you.”

The Doctor grimaced. “It’s all right. I suppose that’s a conversation to have – one of many.”

She hummed in agreement.

“For now, though, all I’ll say is… I never expected to get to have this kind of life. To live a truly human life. Everything from here on out is brand new. I can’t promise I’ll be easy – Martha says I was a right pain as a human – long story – but… I want to try.”

“Fair enough.” She tilted her head back to kiss him. “I’m honestly not sure if I want kids. We can decide for ourselves – but until then, we’ll need to buy condoms.”

“Lots of condoms,” he agreed with a grin. “Being biologically human – or as much as I am – means I have a sex drive now, and therefore will be subject to fascinating curiosities such as unprompted erections, wet dreams. And will likely be initiating far more encounters than I used to, when I had to get on board mentally first, so to speak.”

Rose laughed softly, conscious of the sound asleep little boy now cuddled into her back. “So what you’re saying is, now instead of having to give you an argument for anything, I can stick my hands in your pants and get my way?”

The Doctor nodded eagerly, kissing her lips. “Perhaps I’ve spent too much time with Jack, but I am fully in favor of such blatant manipulation.”

“Good to know.”

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #Doctor Who #TenTooxRose #TenToo #Rose Tyler #oohlala #First Night of Forever

42 notes · View notes

amymel86 · 6 years

Text

BUNKER - Chapter 2 of 4: ‘Day 3′

For the photo prompt day of the Jonsa Spring Challenge (making bread)

Read chapter 1 here

The dull echo of a boom shakes Jon out of his sleep. He hadn’t meant to close his eyes as he sprawled out on Mance’s old couch, but since there’s not too much to do when being holed up in this God-forsaken bunker for the past 3 days, then sleep seems to be an attractive option.

“You were snoring,” Sansa comments from where she sits cross-legged on the floor, trying to fit a piece into the puzzle she’s working on.

Jon swallows and sits up, wiping the tiny amount of drool from the side of his mouth. You’re a right ‘Prince Charming’ you, aren’t ya? “Sorry.”

“It didn’t bother me,” she shrugs before turning and flashing him a smile that he’s come to appreciate far too much for someone he’d only met a handful of days ago.

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Jon lets out a yawn before moving to sit on the floor next to her. He’s about to ask if he can help, turning his head to the side to look at the image she’s trying to re-create from the lid – it was a painting of a lone wolf, howling up at the moon.

“Don’t sit too close,” she warns, scooting away. Jon’s brow furrows as he shoots her a confused look. “I’ve worn these clothes for the past three days! I stink!”

He chuckled at that and wondered what the hell a pretty girl like Sansa was doing to end up where he lived on the outskirts of Mole’s Town – the arse-end of nowhere. “You used the shower this morning.”

She had. She’d used it right after he did. Her hair was tinged a dark copper in places where it was still damp. They were all surprised to find out just how prepared Mance had been with this bunker – even Jon, who’d worked for the man for the past five years was shocked at the sheer expanse of the place, how much food he had stored up and the facilities that were installed. So far, they’d seen a huge warehouse-sized room full of supplies and foodstuffs, there was a generator room which powered the electricity and air purifying system and waste shoot that Mance said led to an underground chamber where unrecyclable waste can be stored. They had heat, light, water and enough supplies to sustain the four of them for four years, according to his boss, although Jon hopes that calculation won’t need to be tested.

The ‘living quarters’ as Mance had deemed them, consisted of the lounge/kitchen, one bathroom and Mance’s bedroom. If you ignored the fact that there were no windows, the floor was concrete, and the walls were white painted bricks – then you’d be forgiven for thinking that these particular rooms were part of any ordinary house. The man had even thought to prepare a little cordoned off space in the store room for his chickens for fuck’s sake! Jon knew that Mance was what folks called a ‘survivalist’ – but this was taking it to a whole new level. It seems he’d been anticipating the end of the world for quite some time. What he hadn’t anticipated however, was that not only would he be saving himself, but other people too. There were two smaller rooms that could be used to sleep in but there were no beds and Jon could only liken them to what he thought being in a prison cell might feel like. Opting for comfort rather than privacy, Sansa had chosen to sleep on the couch and when Ramsey had declared that he’d hunker down in the adjacent armchair, Jon had decided to stay put and sleep on the floor in the sitting room too. Sansa had shot Jon what he supposes was a thankful look. He’s not sure that she’s all that comfortable with being alone with this Ramsey guy and he can’t say he blames her. He’s an odd one with an intense look in his eyes and a smile that unnerves Jon, but he can’t quite put his finger on why.

“Yeah, I used the shower, but my clothes still stink… If we’re down here for much longer, I’ll have to wash them,” Sansa groused, offering up a puzzle piece to a space in the picture she was trying to fill.

“Well if you stink, I stink,” Jon shrugged.

Sansa started to dramatically waft her hand in front of her cute wrinkled up nose. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Jon laughed and lifted his arm to sniff his armpit. “Don’t know what you’re talking about city-girl. I’m as fresh as a daisy!”

“I’m not sure what you think daisies smell like,” Sansa chuckled in return, “besides, I’m not a ‘city-girl’, I don’t live in the inner city, I live near the base and-“

“Wherever it is, it’s swankier than this rinky-dink town, that’s for sure.”

She did that smile at him then – the one where it looks as though the corners of her lips are losing their battle to stay impassive as her eyes expose the twinkle within. Jon couldn’t help but return it, and each time he did, he forced himself to remember that she’d mentioned something about a boyfriend before –‘Harry’ or some other name that fancy folks tend to have- not that a girl like her would even entertain the thought of maybe going on a date with a guy like Jon, but those looks she kept throwing his way made him hold on to his breath, just a tiny bit. And besides, flirting couldn’t hurt could it? If that’s even what this was? Jon’s not quite sure. Most of his world revolves around his job at Mance’s store and drinking with the boys in a dive of a bar that no self-respecting woman would step foot in -especially not one like Sansa- so he’s no time to even attempt to flirt with anyone anyways.

Except now, all they seem to have is time. Time to wait around to figure out if the world is ending above their heads or not. Mance has some large radio communications system that looks like it’s straight from the 80s sat in the corner of the room. He says it’s wired up to the telegraph pole out back, so he should be able to get a good signal but all he’s managed to latch onto so far is static. It stands unused at present, as Mance naps in his room – no doubt he’ll be out soon, twiddling dials as they’re all forced to listen to various frequencies of deafening crackles and whooshes.

“It certainly is a backwards place,” Ramsey comments in a sickeningly smooth voice, making Jon and Sansa jump where they sat together on the floor. Jon hadn’t even realised he was in the room with them. Last he remembered, the guy had gone to watch the chickens scratch about in their pen – an activity that Jon thought a bit odd at the time but had shrugged it off since they’re stuck down here with absolutely nothing to do. Ramsey is from Dreadfort after all – they’re all a bit peculiar ‘round that way anyway. Maybe watching a cluck of hens get bothered by Mance’s rooster is something of a novelty to the guy?

“I didn’t hear you come back,” Sansa breathed, her hand flying to her chest as if that would calm her nerves. Ramsey’s smile widened where he sat innocently at the dining table.

“I’m quiet,” was all he said in response as he continued to watch them.

Jon cleared his throat and offered Sansa a piece of the puzzle. “I think that bit goes there.” A rumble echoed from above, but after three days of listening to the noises, no-one makes any move to acknowledge it. They’re all hoping that the booms and crashes and the growling rumbles of the earth will end soon, and they can leave this God-forsaken bunker.

The door to Mance’s room swung open to reveal his bed-messed boss, still yawning from his nap. He stretched and smacked his lips together before entering the living room area.

“Must be nice to have a bed to sleep in,” Ramsey commented, earning him a warning look flashed from Mance.

“Funny that,” the older man said, leaning nonchalantly on a bookshelf, “because I was just thinkin’ that it must be nice to be in the right place at the right time so decent folk can save yer life,” he finished his jibe with a pointed look that Jon knew meant he expected Ramsey to shut the fuck up. Jon’s been on the receiving end of that look a time or two for his occasional bout of cheek so he’s rather familiar with it.

Ramsey’s sickly smile never fell from his face, he tilted his head, his icy blue stare fixed upon Mance save for a cursory flick to where Jon and Sansa sat on the floor. “I just thought it would be fairer if we worked on a rota,” he said, “I’m sure Sansa here would appreciate a night in a proper bed… and it’s a big double bed too” Ramsey finished by setting his gaze on Sansa beside him.

Jon felt rather than saw Sansa tense where she sat, making him narrow his eyes at the other man. He was making her feel uncomfortable and Jon did not like that one bit. “I’m fine on the couch,” she says, although it mostly comes out on a whisper before she clears her throat and offers his boss a small smile. “This is Mance’s bunker, and besides, he has a bad back, I’m…I’m absolutely fine where I am.”

Ramsey grins and sucks in a breath, opening his twisted mouth to start talking again – only Mance is faster and starts to boom over him in a loud, commanding voice. “Right!” he claps his hands together before rubbing his palms up and down, the noise of his dry, cracked skin sounding like raspy paper. “I’m gonna try an’ get a better signal. See if we can’t hear what’s going on up there.”

As if on cue, the earth rumbled making the shade on the lamp rattle and wobble. Mance settled into his wheeled computer chair as if oblivious as he pulled himself flush with the desk that housed his radio equipment. Jon stood, eyeing his boss twiddling with the dials. Any moment now the annoying static that buzzed in his ear like an irritating wasp would start up and Jon fancied himself to be anywhere but here right now. He glanced over at Ramsey who had his eyes fixed to Sansa still sat on the floor. That was annoying too.

“I’m gonna go stretch my legs,” he announced, waiting for a beat or two, hopeful that Sansa would join him.

“I’ll come with you,” she said, rising from her space on the floor and brushing her jeans down with her hands, “this puzzle can wait,” she smiled as she looked up to him.

Jon grinned, “only if you don’t mind following my stink.”

That earnt him a smirk and an eye roll, both of which he kind of liked.

“I would join you, but I don’t think my presence would be welcome amongst the two lovebirds,” Ramsey said with his cloying smile. Jon shot him his best ‘shut the fuck up’ expression whilst he held the door open for Sansa, Ramsey’s grin following her all the way out.

Sansa was quiet for a while as they walked side by side, occasionally their shoulders would brush or Jon would stop to let Sansa through a narrow piece of corridor first. They found themselves in the huge store room – there wasn’t anywhere else for them to go really, so it was no surprise.

“Thanks,” Sansa mumbled finally, stopping to run a finger over the rows and rows of tinned food on the shelving in front of her.

Jon raised his brows, “what for?”

“Suggesting to get out of that room,” she sighed, “Ramsey is-“ an insanely adorable expression came upon her face as she looked to be deliberating her next words.

“A creepy fucker?” He supplied, making her giggle some.

“Well I was going to try to be more diplomatic about it but… yeah… he is a creepy fucker,” her lips wrapped around the word in an alien fashion and her cheeks coloured beautifully at the sound of the curse in her own voice. It made Jon grin widely, as Sansa ducked her head and tucked some of that silky looking copper hair behind her ear. She glanced back up at him with those crystal blue eyes, catching him staring.

Jon cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly really interested in the ingredients of the tinned chilli on the shelf in front of him. “So… uh… “ he cursed himself internally. Jesus Snow, get a grip.

“I hope Mance finds someone on those radio waves,” she said, throwing him a lifeline in conversation.

“Yeah,” Jon agreed, rubbing at the back of his neck, “hopefully we can get out soon. Your family must be worried sick.” Sansa gave him a small smile in agreement and not for the first time Jon thought that it must be nice to have someone in your life who would worry about you.

It’s not that Jon thinks himself particularly unlucky in life, but with a mother who died in childbirth and a father that never came forward to claim him, he supposes his is not a typical kind of set up. Old Nan – the woman who ended up raising him, was kind enough, he’d never felt neglected or mistreated in any way but…well… Nan had passed away when he was 16 and now at the age of 26, he doesn’t feel any closer to obtaining that allusive ‘family’ that had always been missing from his life. Sansa had told him about all her siblings and her loving parents and he’s a little ashamed to say that his initial response was to envy her.

But then she’d burst into tears that first day down in the bunker – worrying about what might’ve happened to her loved-ones and Jon had been a little in awe at the ferocity of her concern. Never had he ever felt that way about someone, like a part of your heart was always with someone else and if they were to come to harm, you would too. He wanted that.

He’d held Sansa awkwardly that day, not quite sure where to put his hands or what to do at all with the sobbing girl burying her face in his chest as Mance made her a God-awful cup of coffee and Ramsey just sat there observing with his cold eyes. He remembers she was embarrassed after and couldn’t seem to stop apologising to him. He’s not sure why. She was upset. Hell – the whole world might be coming to an end above their heads, so it stands to reason she could bawl if she wanted. Fancy folks don’t like to show emotions, I guess.

Besides, they don’t fully know what’s going on up there. Sansa said all her family were back at Winterfell – that’s a good amount of miles from here – maybe whatever it is that’s happening is only localised? Not that it would matter anyway, what with them living so close to an army base, Sansa was sure that that’s where they’d be heading and Jon could think of no safer place to be honest – well, ‘cept for here maybe.

They wandered the aisles of metal shelving that Mance had set up in the massive warehouse-sized store room. In truth, Jon was pretty impressed – there was so much and Mance had managed to stock it down here for Gods knows how many years without folks knowing about it. Heck – just the sheer size of the place down here was worth cluckin’ over he supposes.

“Oh!” Sansa squeaked from a couple of aisles over. Jon wandered and weaved the shelves so he could meet up with her and see what’s peaked her interest. “Dried yeast!” she declared with a bright smile as she pointed to a medium sized sack.

Jon’s eyes flicked from the product on the shelf back to Sansa, “you’re… excited… about yeast?”

“Shut up!” she laughed, playfully scolding him by swatting his chest. Jon played along, rubbing where she’d thwacked him and making a pained face. It made him smile that for a brief second, she genuinely seemed concerned that he’d been hurt. Shaking her head at him, Sansa continued, “look, we’ve got bread flour, yeast, sugar,” she listed, pointing at the various sacks, “all we need is a little bit of salt and some warm water and we can make some bread!”

“And we want to do that because…?”

Sansa huffed and rolled her eyes, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a succession of banging, clanging noises that sounded nothing like the booms they had been used to. This was closer, sharper, not so devastating and yet somehow more worrying. “Come on,” he urged. Making bread could wait for now.

Sansa followed him back towards the ‘living quarters’. They’d reached them just in time for Mance’s head to appear around the door frame, looking this way and that. “That noise not you then?” he asked once he spotted them coming his way. Jon shook his head. “Hmm,” his boss grunted, turning to face the stairs that lead back up to the surface. The banging was louder now and Mance decided to go investigate. Jon and Sansa followed before Ramsey appeared and brought up the rear.

Thump! Thump! Thump! The noise beckoned them up the stairs until it was accompanied by someone shouting “Rayder! Let me in!” Thump! Thump! Thump! “After everything I’ve done for you! I never told anyone about this place! LET! Thump! ME! Thump! IN! Thump! RAYDERRRR!!”

Mance paused and looked round at them all following him up the steps.

“I know you’re in there!” the voice bellowed, the familiarity of it striking Jon suddenly.

“That’s Jorah,” Jon whispered, urging Mance to continue up the stairs and let the man in. Jorah was mostly a recluse. He owned a great deal of land on the outskirts of Mole’s Town and kept himself to himself. Being a keen hunter though, he was a semi-regular at Rayder’s store and Jon’s seen him prop up the bar on a lonely looking night or two as well. “How does he know about the bunker?”

“I might’ve got ‘is help in installin’ the generator years back,” Mance explained, climbing the steps and not bothering to look back. “Asked ‘im to forget he ever saw the place. Reckon he ignored that bit, mind.”

They reached the space at the top of the stairs where the big heavy duty sealed doors stood before them. There were two small panes of double-glazed glass where the face of Jorah Mormont was framed in one. He shielded his vision with his hands and leant against the little window to peer in at them. “Let him in,” Jon said, making a move to start working on the bolts.

“Hang on there, lad,” Mance halted him with an outstretched arm. Jon looked to his boss in confusion and then up to where Jorah was huffing the breath from his nose against the glass. “What you hidin’ with tha’ scarf, Mormont?” Mance called out to the man on the other side of the door. Jon hadn’t even noticed it, but sure enough, Jorah had a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, right up to his nose.

“Just let me in Rayder,” he said, his tone a little threatening. Jon narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right.

“Let me see yer face and I might think on it.”

“Mance,” Jorah warned, tilting his head and keeping the blaze in his eyes trained on Jon’s boss. “You’ve got Snow and these others in there. Let me in. I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

“What’s going on out there?” Mance asked, cool as you like.

Jorah shook his head and glanced away, clearly irritated. “I don’t have time to-“

“We have time,” Mance’s lips pulled down at the corners as he indicated to Jon, Sansa and Ramsey, “tell us, friend, is it warfare? Are we under attack?”

“You don’t understand-“

“I understand that I have something you want. Salvation. A place to stay safe. And I also understand that this bunker is sealed and clean from any kind of harmful contamination… so I’ll ask again… Tell me, friend, what’s going on out there that you got ta wrap yer face up like that?” Mance finished his demands with raised brows.

Jon could see the rage roll in over Jorah’s expression like a summer storm. “JUST LET ME IN! LET ME IN! LET ME IN! LET ME IN!” he screamed, rattling and kicking at the door. Sansa moved behind Jon, he could feel her grip onto the back of his t-shirt as she peered over his shoulder to watch Mormont in his hissy fit.

In all the commotion, Jorah’s scarf fell to reveal the whole of his jaw as grey as ash and scaly like an alligator hide. He paused, realising they’d all spotted his affliction, eyes wide with worry. “This is nothing to do with what’s going on out here,” he pleaded.

Mance grunted and seemed to chew on the other man’s words. “That so?”

“RAYDER YOU FUCKER! LET ME IN OR SO HELP ME GOD I’LL-“

“You’ll what?” Mance asked calmly, “kick yer foot bloody tryin’ to break down this ‘ere door? I don’t think so Jorah.”

“Mance,” Jon said quietly, “we’ve got to let him in.”

“We don’t.”

“He can’t stay out there. Look at him! He’s ill!”

“Oh aye,” Mance finally turned to face him, “and who’s makin’ ‘im better? Last time I looked you weren’t one to own a fancy medical degree…unless I’m mistaken? Hmm, lad?”

Jon clenched his jaw, glaring back at the older man. He had a point, but the fact didn’t sit comfortably in Jon’s gut. He glanced to Jorah outside.

“Jon,” Mance said, getting his attention back, “we don’t know what kind of infection or whatever that is. And we don’t know how to treat it.” He turned back to look at the distressed man beyond the door.

“Rayder, please!” Jorah cried, his despair as clear as day.

“And my guess is,” Mance continued, ignoring the plea of the man outside, “that whatever’s out there that’s made ‘im this desperate to be in ‘ere would follow ‘im in if we open that door… No,” he shook his head with finality before walking past Jon and the others to go back down the steps, “we’re not lettin’ anythin’ contaminate my bunker!”

“Rayder!” Jorah yelled, “RAYDERRR!!” he slammed his head against the glass making Sansa yelp and her grip on Jon’s shirt intensify. Jon shifted, moving more squarely between her and the door. He’s not really sure why he’d done it, there was no way that Mormont was getting through that sealed steel, but he’d done it none-the-less.

“Let me in you heartless fuckers!” Jorah spat at the window pane, his saliva sliding down the glass.

Ramsey laughed, and folded his arms, adopting some sort of stance of authority as he watched the rabid man outside. “What was that?” he taunted cupping his ear, “you want to come in?”

“Fuck you!” Jorah screamed before he started to repeatedly crash his head against the little window. Soon, the glass was smeared and splattered with blood and saliva.

“Oh my God!” Sansa let out on a single sob, making Jon turn and grab her to him, hiding her face into his chest as if that would shield her from the awful scene.

Ramsey only chuckled menacingly, stepping closer to the door as he continued to goad Mormont.

“Come on,” Jon whispered, “lets go and make some bread.”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #bunker #jonsa spring challenge #day4:photo

25 notes · View notes