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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months

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Hiya could you do Harry Crosby + “ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i'd say yes. “ “ what about today?” from one of your drabble prompt lists please and thanks 💛

Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie! I’ve adored these Masters of the Air requests, especially getting to write for Harry my love!! Our favorite navigator 🥰

Quick warning that there is a nonzero chance of historical inaccuracies here, and the timeline may be a little off, but I did actual research for this one y’all! New additions to the ever-growing Useless Knowledge section of my brain: knowing where Lt. Harry Crosby studied for college (he was working on his graduate degree at the University of Iowa when the Pearl Harbor attack occurred; he went back to finish his degree there in 1947 and earned his PhD from Stanford University in 1953!), when and why he joined the Army Air Forces (paused his studies at U of I to enlist after Pearl Harbor), and where he was sent for his training (Mathers Field, California) before being stationed in Idaho, and eventually at East Anglia. Look at me go lol 🤪 Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

a/n: well, that’ll teach me not to try to format my fics on mobile 😂 I guess the Harry fic’s coming out today! Hope you like it Nonnie <3

Masterlist

Just Say Yes

You waited anxiously under the maple tree at the edge of the campus courtyard, fiddling with the worn, creased paper in your hands — Harry’s last letter, telling you that this next visit home would likely be his last before he was transferred to Idaho, and then to who knows where.

I’ll meet you under our tree, pretty girl, the letter had read, Saturday, our usual time?

The tree— the very maple tree you stood in the shade of now— was where you had met often when you were both students at the University of Iowa, studying English. The tradition had started when you were paired up for a project, and Harry asked if you would mind working outside.

“I think better in the fresh air,” he had said, almost apologetically, and you had agreed almost instantly, captivated by the quiet but clearly very smart boy who sat next to you in class.

Even after the project was over and graded, you continued to meet under that tree nearly every day at 2 o’clock after class to compare class notes or exchange feedback on essays.

And after nearly four months of meeting and working together, it was under that tree where Harry Crosby finally asked you out on a date.

Leaning back against the tree, you were jolted out of your trip down memory lane by a familiar voice calling your name.

Grinning, you turned to see Harry strolling towards you, dapper in his dress uniform, one arm raised in greeting, the other cradling a bouquet of tulips— your favorite.

You pushed off from the tree, unable to wait a single second longer, and sprinted to meet him, uncaring of the students staring at the crazy lady running across their campus.

He opened his arms as the distance between you lessened until you crashed into him, burying your head in his chest. He stumbled back a bit, absorbing your momentum, but he was quick to embrace you, quicker still to turn your momentum into a dizzying, joyous twirl, lifting your feet off the ground.

You let out a gleeful laugh as the world spun around you, and pulled him in for a long-overdue kiss once your feet were firmly back on the ground.

After the two of you reluctantly pulled apart, you cupped his face in your hands, drinking him in: lips stained red from your lipstick, hat knocked askew, uniform now more than a little wrinkled, and best of all, those warm brown eyes you had missed so much overflowing with love.

He looked as dapper as ever.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured with a smile, a greeting for your ears only.

It had been so long since you’d heard those words from his lips, and all you could do was blink back the tears that sprang to your eyes as you replied with a simple, tender “Hi.”

Understanding filled his eyes, and he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead and allowing you a moment to compose yourself before the two of you headed back towards your tree.

“Oh!” He said, holding the bouquet out to you as if he just now remembered he had it, “For you, m’lady.”

You took the bouquet, fingering the delicate pink and yellow petals. “They’re beautiful, Harry,” you smiled up at him, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my girl,” he said, gesturing for you to sit and make yourself comfortable first before he settled next to you in the shade.

“So,” he said, wrapping an arm around you, “Tell me everything. What have I missed? How’d that paper go that you were telling me about?”

You couldn’t help but light up at the mention of your latest paper— your pride and joy, your best work yet if you didn’t say so yourself— and at Harry’s encouraging smile, you rambled on about themes and motifs and parallels, Harry occasionally chiming in with a suggestion that made the connections you had made even clearer.

Despite the plethora of letters you had sent each other, each doing your best to keep the other updated, you and Harry never seemed to run out of things to talk about: the conversation flowed from your latest paper to how Harry had been giving the guys some book recommendations based on your suggestions, to the small bookshop you had taken to visiting, compiling a list of titles for him that you thought he’d enjoy. Harry mentioned that some of his comrades had set up a small library of sorts in the barracks, running on the honor system, but they’d likely need to shut it down soon, with people moving to their more permanent placements.

“Oh that reminds me,” Harry said, digging in his pocket for a moment before triumphantly revealing a scrap of paper with his distinctive scrawl.

“Plenty of the guys are getting letters from their wives and sweethearts,” he said, slipping you the small piece of paper with the address of his next assignment in Boise, “I wanna make sure I’m one of ‘em.”

“Getting letters from your wife, or your sweetheart?” You asked playfully, tucking the slip of paper safely in your pocket.

“Uh.. Well, I mean…” Harry stammered, trying very hard not to think about the small box in his pocket.

“Hey,” you pause to assure him, “I was just kidding.” Under the shade of your tree, you rested your head on his shoulder, looking out at the courtyard. “I know we’re a little young, but…” You took a deep breath, entwining your fingers with his, “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I’d say yes.”

You caught the barest hint of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you glanced over to see a small box held out to you.

A box in Harry’s hand that was open to reveal a delicate gold ring.

“What about today?” Harry asked softly, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek.

“I— Harry—” You were speechless, your world zeroing in on that small gold band before realizing that you had been silent for far too long.

You nodded furiously, turning to kiss him before you could even get the words out.

“Is that a—”

Harry’s tentative question was cut short by your lips crashing onto his. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, kissing you back with equal fervor, the ring box left in your lap.

You both eventually pulled away, gasping for air. Harry’s forehead remained pressed to yours, chocolate brown eyes locked on you.

“Was that a yes?” He asked, lips still just barely brushing yours, and you could feel him trying not to smile.

You were an English major. There were a thousand words you could have said, a thousand speeches of acceptance and love and devotion you could have made.

Only one word mattered to you just then.

“Yes.”

#sage answers #my writing #harry crosby #lt harry crosby #masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #harry crosby x reader #anthony boyle #anthony boyle harry crosby #anthony boyle lt harry crosby #anthony boyle x reader

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wisteriagoesvroom · 17 days

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Re: suits, there are hundreds of different types of suits, but the most common cuts are british, american and italian. I could see Lando (aka would love to see) most likely in an italian cut (slim tailoring on trousers and jacket, unstructured shoulders, light cloth (not colour but fabric) also looks very nice with an open collar and no tie...). Typical big brand names here are Zegna, Armani or Attolini, I personally love Kiton and Brioni as well, but just googling itlian cut suits should show some good results.

For Oscar, I would adore a (for once) properly tailored brutish cut suit (higher waistline for the trousers, more structure in the shoulders, tapered waist, thicker fabrics). Maybe even make it a proper three-piece bc ever since the wetsuit pics from Australia, I think we all agree that those curves need to be shown more often. Examples here are Ted Baker, Dunhill and ofc everything Savile row.

Tho if we keep with the Mclaren sponsors, Reiss does some great work as well. There's a double-breasted tuxedo jacket in this year's collection that I would love to see Lando in (then again tuxedos are a whole nother topic ...)

This got very long and is probably not very helpful but I love infodumping about fashion lol <3

i know you were self conscious about writing at length about this but all i have to say is: yes. here is some additional photographic evidence from my POV;

lando in snazzy italian tailoring, but to take the stylised vector a bit further:

exhibit a: asymmetric waistcoat with steampunk details

exhibit b: italian but with a fun pattern

exhibit c: open collar a step further, he could so rock a 70s suit. also just really need him to rock the gucci glasses with some shiny loafers like he’s sooooo got that vibe. im thinking how bruno mars and harry styles wear that kind of suiting sometimes

now to our elusive chanteuse f1 driver oscar jack. i feel like it’s, like what you described, about a classic style but with really fine details. good fabrics, simple cuts, plain colourways. below is pretty stylised but also this is rpf and it’s my playground and if we were claiming realism we should just put the rpf toys down full stop and i am not doing that!!

if taking a costume designer’s perspective too, there could be soooo much you could say with layering and pattern and contrast depending where we are in the story or plot. the idea of fic!oscar in a classic brit cut suit with tiny revealing details like a handkerchief (lando’s) or a button (a nod to a family member or a friend) is very dear to me.

the other option i like is a classic tux jacket with tails and crisp shirt and a a sky blue handkerchief, like idk that image also tickles me for some reason.

anyway so i had been thinking about a tailor AU- *loud scuffling noise as i try to put wayward au ideas back in their box*

p.s. oscar in dunhill... like u were cooking but u especially cooked w that one....

and tagging the people who might be interested in this conversation i invite y’all to weigh in!! @cx-boxbox @kichona-s and @jusst-you-race

#i need to stop thinking #landoscar #mctwinks #twinklaren #op81 #ln4 #it’s getting bad guys idk how i just see random things now and im like. how do i make this landoscar #wizrambles.txt

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hslllot · 1 year

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insieme in paradiso

“together in paradise”

rated m | 2.7k words

better late than never, right? this is a short piece for my dear friend’s @harry-on-broadway fic challenge (the prompts used are in bold)! It is basically an extended version of this concept I wrote back in 2021... We’ve had such great latam content lately that I feel like I should have adjusted the setting of this, but I hope you enjoy anyways! As always, please let me know what you think. xx shan

———

Was this heaven?

You were certain that you’d never felt more relaxed as you bathed in the Tuscan sunlight. Lounging beside your love, you let your eyes close, the book you were reading abandoned in the sand next to your chair ages ago. Every worry, every stressor, every bit of tension in your muscles that you carried with you drifted away in the winds of the ocean breeze.

This was the private getaway with Harry you’d been longing for. It seemed like forever since the two of you were able to spend an extended amount of time alone together.

“Mum just posted this photo. Look. Thea’s getting so big.” Your boyfriend interrupted your daze when he reached out from beside you to shove his phone in your face.

You opened your eyes slowly and lowered your sunglasses so you could take a proper look. Using your hand to shield the glare of the Italian sun, you saw on his screen an Instagram story his mother had posted of his cousin’s baby.

“She’s adorable, H.” You responded, adjusting your sunglasses back to cover your eyes. “We should give Ella a call later, maybe we can FaceTime.” All you heard in response was a short grunt as he laid back in his chair, eyes still fixed on his screen.

He was grumpy and you could tell.

One thing about your boyfriend of three years, which you found incredibly endearing, was that he loved his family more than anything. Unfortunately, when his family was gathered and he couldn’t be there, he’d tend to get a bit pouty. You’d find him glued to the group chat or Instagram to get updates on what they were up to. Sometimes you would catch him ‘liking’ or ‘reacting’ to their posts and stories (on his private account of course) in an attempt to make himself feel more included.

Birthdays. Weddings. Babies. There was a long list of family events he often had to miss because of his job, and you knew it weighed heavily on his heart.

A small part of you was slightly annoyed that he wished he were somewhere else. But another part of you, perhaps the more compassionate part, understood that multiple truths could exist at once: 1) He was happy to be spending time with you, 2) he was grateful for his job that took him to beautiful countries and allowed him to live a lavish life, and 3) he missed his family dearly.

But sometimes you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just go home and visit them whenever he felt like it. He certainly could afford it, and he had the power in all of his business relationships to take a vacation whenever he felt like it. Sometimes you wished he had more of a ‘diva’ type attitude when it came to certain things, like allowing himself to take breaks from work. However, another thing about your boyfriend was that he was a chronic overachiever and people pleaser with a tendency to overcommit to new projects. And you figured it wasn’t so bad to have a partner in life who was considerate of other peoples’ time and feelings.

Plus, you couldn’t complain much because his commitment to a new project was how you found yourself at the beautiful, private, Il Pellicano in Tuscany.

The two of you were finally spending some much needed quality time together. Coordinating your schedules had been an absolute nightmare and it was a miracle that you were able to take some time away from work to join him on this trip. He was technically here on business, preparing for the launch of his Gucci collection with Alessandro. But you had spent the majority of the trip together, watching him model his clothing, sitting side-by-side on the small private beach of your villa, and wrapped around one another in the bedroom.

At the moment though, Harry’s frustration, guilt, and longing to be with his family was threatening to penetrate the bubble of relaxation surrounding you. You could feel the restless energy emanating off of him. Without opening your eyes you heard the way he moved around in his chair and sighed under his breath as he scrolled through his phone and typed away messages in his family group chat. When you finally did open your eyes you found him on his stomach, his head at the other end of the chair near your feet, and his phone two inches from his face. And while this position afforded you a great view of his tanned back and taut muscles glistening in the Italian heat, clad only in a small pair of black swimming shorts, you could feel the tension radiating from him and you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

You reached across and placed your hand on the back of his calf, rubbing your thumb back and forth against his warm, sun-kissed skin, as if to soothe him.

“Hey baby?”

“Hmmm?” He responded mindlessly, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Hey, look at me.” You urged, squeezing his calf to gain his attention.

“Sorry” he murmured, putting his phone down. He twisted in the lounge chair to face you, sitting up to give you his full attention. You reached for his hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

“I was thinking… I know we’re supposed to head back to London on Sunday, but what if we took a few days in Holmes Chapel?” He raised an eyebrow at you curiously, wordlessly asking where this had come from. You continued, “It’s been so long since we’ve seen Anne and I miss her… Plus, we’ve only seen Thea once since she’s been born. I think I can extend my vacation by a few days.”

He sat there for a moment silently, teasing at his bottom lip.

“I have a meeting with Lambert and Molly on Monday in London.” He winced, remembering his prior commitment.

“Surely you can do it over Zoom. Or just push it a couple days. You are the boss, aren’t you?”

Something flickered in his eyes and a slight smirk crept his lips at your mention of him being the boss.

His gears were turning and you knew him well enough to know the battle going on inside his brain. He probably didn’t love the idea of moving a meeting to go see his mum, but since it was technically your idea it was like a free pass. He could feel less guilty about it because he was doing it for you.

(Obviously you both knew this was entirely for him… But you needn’t say it)

You thought he might pass on the opportunity, and were startled when he removed his hand from yours and scrambled up from his lounge chair. He quickly moved onto your chair, straddling you with his entire body weight pinning you down. With his forearms rested on either side of your head, he placed quick kisses all over your face. Almost reflexively, you wrapped your hands around his biceps. His hot, sinewy arms flexed in your grip.

“Yeah,” is all he said before placing a long, slightly wet, kiss on your forehead. “I AM the boss. And I would like that very much. Thank you for suggesting it.” Unable to wipe the smile from his face, he placed one more tender kiss on your lips.

You reached for the sunglasses that sat atop his head and removed them, freeing space for you to run your fingers through his soft brown curls. “You’re welcome, H.” He lowered into your touch, eager for a cuddle. “But you have to get up. You’re squishing me.”

“Right, sorry.” He removed himself from on top of you and took a seat by your feet at the end of the chair. It was his turn to soothe you now, grazing his palm along your calf and up to your knee, which he gave a squeeze before dragging his hand back down.

“I think it’s time we get out of the sun, yeah?” The sly look on his face was all too familiar as his gaze trailed down your bikini-clad body. “You’re lookin’ a little sunburnt.”

“Am I?” You teased.

“I’ve got something I can rub on it back in our room.”

You rolled your eyes at him, feigning annoyance at his flirtation. Nonetheless, you knew where this was headed.

Gathering your belongings hastily, you were both eager to make your way back to the air conditioned room that held your luxurious king bed. You trailed behind Harry, climbing the stone steps up to the private entrance of your villa hand in hand.

Once inside your room, you dropped your tote bag and walked over to the balcony, sliding open the curtains and the door to let the sunshine and salt air filter through the room. Looking out at the scene below, you could see the private beach where you and Harry had spent your morning and admired the way the Tuscan sun illuminated the sapphire blue ocean ahead. You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as you felt Harry come to stand closely behind you.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” You said quietly. Harry wrapped his arms around you from behind, allowing you to rest your chin on his forearms. He nuzzled his face into your neck where he left a delicate touch of his lips.

“Thank you for being here with me.” He responded.

Any annoyance you previously felt toward your boyfriend’s proclivity for FOMO melted away when you realized how grateful you were to be here with him. In the chaos of his busy life, while he missed his family deeply, he chose to be here with you, together in paradise.

You turned yourself in his arms, your body flush against his, to find his soft, yet intense, gaze on your lips.

Harry held lightly onto your hips. Leaning in, his lips parted, and you could feel his warm breath against yours. You placed your hands on his chest, his skin burning under your fingers. With every shallow intake of breath he edged closer, until finally catching your top lip between his.

His hands trailed up your sides as your kiss became deeper, fuller. You felt like you might melt against him, heat racing down to every part of your body that was touching his. He roamed your curves and the expanse of your back, pressing you even closer to him, before finding the strings that held together your bikini. With two gentle tugs, the piece of fabric fell to the ground.

He broke away from your kiss only briefly to study the sight of you, topless, in front of him. “Bellissima,” he whispered, his voice deep and slow. You saw the muscles in his jaw tick as his gaze burned holes through you. It was your turn, this time, to grab onto him and press him closer against you, feeling his hardness.

It wasn’t long before Harry’s mouth started to move down your body. Your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His tongue dragged over your nipple before sucking it into his mouth and an intoxicating heat rippled through you.

“Bed, please” was all you could muster under your breath. Harry reluctantly pulled himself off you and started walking you back, stopping when the back of your legs hit the bed. He gently lowered you onto the bed and resumed his work dragging his mouth down your body, finishing off with a chaste kiss to your hip bone.

He stood up straight at the edge of the bed, towering over you. Eager for him, you removed your bikini bottoms and tossed them to the floor.

“A bit impatient?” He chuckled, looking down hungrily at your naked body. You didn’t bother to respond, leaning back on your forearms, you kicked your leg out and toed at the tent in his black swimming shorts, encouraging him to take them off. “Tell me” he said sternly.

“I want them off.”

He pulled his shorts down and discarded them on the floor before climbing on to the bed. You admired the way he wrapped his hand around his cock and began slowly stroking himself, a small sense of relief evident on his face. He lowered himself over you and pressed his lips to yours. While your tongues met, the pads of his fingertips began to explore, trailing delicately down your stomach. Your body responded to his familiar touch, goosebumps racing over you and a fire simmering in your belly.

You were desperate for him, your body begging for him to touch you as his fingers made their way down to your heat. A heavy moan left your lips when he began running circles over your clit. At that moment, you were completely overwhelmed by him. The way his lips felt against yours, the taste of his tongue, the scent of his cologne, the soft pads of his fingers on your most sensitive spot.

“I want you,” you whined.

“You have me,” he answered teasingly, his mouth only a fraction of an inch away from yours. He dragged his finger down and dipped into your entrance. ��Fuck - you’re so wet.”

“Please…”

At your begging he positioned himself between your legs, removed his fingers, and replaced them with a press of his hips against yours, the tip of his cock firm against your slit.

Your hands grappled to hold on to any part of him you could, eventually landing on his shoulders. Gripping tightly, your fingertips dug into his skin. You wrapped your ankles around his calves and felt the way his body fit perfectly against yours.

The first thrust inside you was slow. Every inch of your body pulled tight around him as he sank deeper. Your breath hitched as a wave of pleasure raced through you.

“Fuck,” Harry rasped as he rocked into you. The sound of his voice sent a tingle down your spine. “I love you so much,” he whispered into your skin, brushing a kiss across your jaw.

You said it back to him as the two of you moved against each other, getting lost in the feelings of love and undulating pleasure between you.

———

You and Harry spent the rest of the day immersed in one another in your private villa.

The last go around, you unraveled together with his face buried in your neck while you were clutched tight around him.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, trying to catch his breath.

You turned on your side to look at him, flooded with warmth and giddiness as you acknowledged how handsome he was. You used the tip of your finger to trace the lines of his face. The sharp cut of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the full of his lips. As you were about to trace your thumb over his eyebrow he grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Thank you again for suggesting we go to Holmes Chapel after this,” he said against your hand, still pressed to his lips.

“Of course,” You moved closer to him and he let go of your hand in order to wrap his arms around you. “You can go home whenever you want, you know.”

He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I know. It’s easier to go when I know you’re coming with me.”

You hummed in understanding and pressed your lips against his chest.

“I should give Jeffrey a call and ask him to make the travel arrangements for us… And postpone my meetings.”

As if on cue, his phone’s ringtone chimed from his tote bag on the floor by the door. He was reluctant to let go of you, but you gave him a look of approval that had him scrambling out of the bed to retrieve it. You took the opportunity to admire his naked body, silently thanking the Italian sun and his morning cardio routine for the glorious sight of him.

You felt a warmth in your chest, though, at the smile that grew on his face when he looked down at his phone to see who was calling.

“Hey mum, yeah….guess what…I’m coming home.”

———

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think.

#harryonbroadwayficchallenge #my writing #harry concepts #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction

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roalinda · 9 months

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i like how in books Sirius is described as handsome (so often it's a memeXD), Lily as very pretty - and James doesn't get those adjectives. BUT even in two and half flashbacks he has James is magnetic. He commands attention and situation, draws Sirius in and both pushes/pulls Lily. I'm living for James' charisma that got him two hottest people of that time XD

You are so right anon 😆

We have Sirius - effortlessly handsome - Black and Lily - very pretty - Evans which both are into James - arrogant toerag, the big quidditch hero - Potter. Their triangle is very interesting no matter how you look at it. Romantic Jily + platonic prongsfoot? Romantic Jily + romantic prongsfoot? Platonic jilypad? Romantic jilypad? All of them work absolutely well even what little we have in canon.

Personally, I view James attractive, but a kind of attractive that depends on taste, unlike Sirius who if there is one thing wizards and muggles agree upon, is his handsomeness.

James looks like Harry ( well, Harry looks like James but anyway) minus the eyes and shape of his nose. I was re-reading the books the other day and the shape of Harry's eyes is different from James' as well, not just the color. I think that makes a huge difference, because eyes can have a huge effect on features and the expression a person gives.

Personally, I think James had won Lily's heart way earlier than seventh year, before the lake accident. We saw it how she blushed when talking about him with Snape. Girl was so gone on him. 😆 and in Sirius' case? I think James was gone on Sirius first. Like he saw a cool boy who grinned and didn't take offense about Slytherin and backed him up and our baby boy Jamie who was a well-adored yet sheltered only child found his soul mate in an instant.

Despite him being an arrogant toerag (I wonder if Lily still calls him that after their marriage , I think she does when she is angry xD ) , everyone seems to like him. He has a certain charisma, I wholeheartedly agree, but I am not fond of James Potter is the sun HC. He has dark parts and if the comparison is with the sun, I believe a shiny sun yet one which eclipses too many times is a better metaphor, at least to me. If you ask me, this is what had drawn Sirius in. Sirius doesn't thrive in morality. This certain darkness is something private to James and him.

So, I think the two words you mentioned, magnetic and charismatic, describes the type of James' attractiveness (not physically) to Lily and Sirius. To Lily, he is charismatic and subdues his dark parts. To Sirius, he is magnetic, he lets himself go and I absolutely think that James is like a scale with Sirius and Lily by his two sides, balancing him.

Thank you for the ask anon ♡ I loved it ♡

#asks #james potter #sirius black #Lily Evans #Prongsfoot #Jily #Jilypad

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drarrily-we-row-along · 2 years

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Flufftober 5: Oh No, You're a Morning Person!

If Harry was being honest, he hated the mornings.

With a burning passion.

And what he hated even more than he hated the mornings, was being a teacher in the mornings. Was there anything in existence that was more annoying than listening to teenagers moan and groan about how difficult their lives were before you'd even sat down for a cup of coffee? Harry felt rather certain that there was not.

Still, if that was the worst part of teaching (and most often, that seemed to be the case) at Hogwarts, Harry wasn't going to complain.

The staff tended to be fairly reserved at breakfast, most of them probably weren't morning people, truth be told, and they usually had too much on their minds to be chatting anyway.

But all of that suddenly changed this year with the new addition to their staff. And perhaps none of this would have changed except that Harry had been on fairly good terms with Draco Malfoy since their 8th year. He wouldn't have called them friends, but they were friendly.

So he couldn't really be blamed for doing something when he heard Trelawney groan, "Oh no, you're a morning person," when Draco greeted everyone cheerfully on his first day during their set up week before the students arrived. "I've had the most horrific vision for you, dear-"

He looked up in time to watch Draco deflate a bit and he couldn't not do something. "Oy, Draco!" he called, waving cheerfully and plastering a smile on his face. "Down here," he said. "Ignore her," he added pointedly, "some people just have never been the best at seeing and accepting joy instead of horrors."

"I've had a vision about you, too, my boy-" Trelawney started, pointing at Harry.

He waved her off, "Yes, yes. I'm sure I've died a most terrible death and all that."

Draco huffed a small laugh but sat down next to Harry. "Thanks," he said, voice low so no one would overhear him. "Just a little nervous about my first day-"

"You're going to be great," Harry assured him. "Don't let her ruffle you. You know what she's like," he added, rolling his eyes.

"Well," Draco said, as he bit into his toast, "She has had some important prophecies," he said meaningfully.

And Harry knew that was true, they'd both been about him after all, but, "Seeing as I've been in her presence when she's made a prophecy that was true, I think it's safe to say she's making up a load of nonsense right now."

"Well, thanks for rescuing me. It seems like there aren't very many people on staff that enjoy conversation in the morning. It's nice that you do."

He'd done this to himself. He knew he had. And the smart thing would have been to fess up and tell Draco the truth but, "Yeah," he said laughing. "You've no idea what it's been like for the past two years with no one on staff to talk to in the mornings," he added a bit weakly.

Minerva shot him an amused glance over the tops of her glasses and he shrugged one shoulder pathetically in response.

"Well," Draco said, "You won't believe what I've found out..."

----------------

For six months this continued.

Every day.

Harry would come down to breakfast and try to guzzle his cup of coffee just to be awake enough to listen to Draco talk when he arrived five minutes later looking like he'd been up and about for hours.

It continued right until the first morning that Harry woke up in Draco's bed after spending the night there.

"Hey," he murmured when Draco opened his eyes. His voice was soft but a bit giddy with the feeling of adoration pooling in his chest at the sight of the other man. The grey light of dawn was just starting to peek through the window and normally Harry would be checking his alarm to see how much longer he could sleep.

Draco groaned, face scrunching up in displeasure. "Too early," he grunted. "You can't talk yet."

"I thought you were a morning person," Harry laughed in spite of himself.

The other man glared with the one eye that was open, "What part of 'you can't talk yet' was unclear?"

He grinned at Draco, wanting to absolutely smother his grumpy little face in kisses, and settled back into bed to enjoy the quiet of waking up together.

------------------------

Read my other Flufftober ficlets

#flufftober #fluff #short and sweet #listen. i have a hard time believing that anyone is actually a morning person #like. what is wrong with you if you wake up feeling ready to talk and be a fully functioning human?#drarry #love #hogwarts professors #soft #no one in this fic is actually a morning person #day 5 #yep. very behind.

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lunatheseus · 9 months

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harry potter (canon) couples that I could get behind + commentary

Hermione Granger x Harry Potter: Idk… I can kinda get behind this- they should relate to each other when it comes to the wizarding world. Because they were both raised by muggles, it must’ve been hard to figure out the magical world right off the bat. They also trust each other a ton. (Way more than Ron did, anyway) When Hermione brings Umbridge to the forest to trick her, Harry at first doesn’t know what she’s about to do, but he trusts her. They’re also not jealous of each other, whether it comes to romantic interest or just their capabilities in something. Hermione didn’t care that Harry was the Chosen one, and Harry didn’t care that Hermione topped him in every class.

Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy: Popular, maybe basic opinion, but these two are the perfect balance of opposites and likes. They are both opposites when it comes to the obvious: Hogwarts houses, blood status, athletics, etc. But they both have many things in common: heavy expectations, being at the top of each class, and other more deep-rooted ideologies. This would give them both something to learn, but also something to relate to. In addition, after the war, Draco could improve his reputation by helping all of the causes and organizations that Hermione started over the years. He has a ton of money, why not donate some? I also think they could be adorable together, Draco spoiling Hermione, Hermione exposing Draco to muggle culture.

Luna Lovegood x Draco Malfoy: Besides the similar white-blonde hair and the same blood status, these two could not be more different. However, it can be a good thing. While Luna can teach Draco about leading life with love and a bit more imagination (like how she was brought up), and Draco can hold Luna to the real world and teach her about the more traditional way of life. On top of that, after the war, Luna doesn't seem like the person to care about Draco's ruined reputation. She would help him get over caring too much about what other people think and instead enjoy life more often. I feel that her forgiving nature would help Draco lead a better life. (Besides, his parents can't possibly be THAT opposed, she's a pureblood, after all)

Theodore Nott x Hermione Granger: Similar reasoning as to the Hermione x Draco ship reasoning, but also remembering that Theo and Hermione don't have as much history, which could be both bad and/or good, that's up to interpretation. I also love that Hermione used a time turner in her younger years, and Theo gets in trouble for being involved in handling illegal magical goods, ie a time turner.

Draco Malfoy x Theodore Nott: With both of their father's being servants of Voldemort, the two supposedly bonded, finding solace in each other. They both also survive the war, so helping each other through hardships would be a critical piece of the story because of how much they relate to and understand when it comes to one another. I also love how Theo was never really in Draco's "Gang" which makes me believe that he has his own independent mind, which is always important.

Luna Lovegood x Theodore Nott: Sunshine x Grumpy? Both see Thestrals? Like the Luna x Draco reasoning, they can learn lots from each other, + ignore the society's views on them because they both don't care.

Luna Lovegood x Neville Longbottom: Ok EVEN THOUGH Luna Lovegood x Rolf Scamander is the most genius idea that JK Rowling has had in her entire career, this could work. The fact that both passionate about their own respective interests makes conversation and life very unique. They're both also good listeners, which makes open communication very effective. Luna could teach Neville to ignore the haters, and Neville is a good anchor for Luna.

Pansy Parkinson x Neville Longbottom: I think that Pansy x Neville isn't such a bad idea. They're kind of opposites, but I love the idea that Neville gives so-called ice-queen-Pansy a safe space to be herself, to be a soft and warm. On the flipside, I think Pansy could teach Neville a thing or two about not being a pushover, and maybe even adding a little snark to conversations.

Pansy Parkinson x Harry Potter: I feel like this would work really well. Honestly though, Pansy would wear the pants in this relationship hands down. I feel like they would have a ton of chemistry... and they would learn a lot from each other. Pansy would humble Harry, Harry would humble Pansy. Simple.

Draco Malfoy x Ginny Weasley: Both Quidditch Fanatics? Both have passionate and fiery personalities? Both have unusually coloured hair? Enemies to Lovers? HMMMM?

Blaise Zabini x Ginny Weasley: Both fit as heck, both very sassy and witty. They'd charm the pants off of each other, both figuratively and literally... they'd have fun. I'd say this is better than Ginny x Draco

Astoria Greengrass x Theodore Nott: idk why but this just works

Theodore Nott x Harry Potter: again, idk why but this would work too

Chicken x Ron Weasley: Whoever did this is an effing genius: Chickron | Shipping Wiki | Fandom

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mercyedes · 19 days

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What caught your eye about hambone? First I thought he was silly bc of the gold teeth but I learned more about the real hambone and I love him sm!! <3 the actor is so beautiful

my first watch of mota when he showed up in ep 1 & the end of ep 2, i recognized him as "wtf this dude has gold teeth oh he's defo a fuck boy" but didn't think much of ham LMAOOO i was still madlyyyy obsessed w/ buck and crosby i didn't have time for my eyes to wander <3

wait hold on i wrote way more than i thought i would lemme read more. i love hambone. he is everything to me

and then like episode 5 came around and i kept rewatching the first couple of episodes and i should've known better because i KNEW he was (is) fine as fuck i simply could not ignore it any longer. i always love the off-putting pretty bitches and hambone is exactly that, an off-putting pretty bitch. i was endeared by his bright ass blonde hair because it reminds me A LOT of an f1/f2 driver i love (liam lawson) so i feel like i kinda was set up from the beginning to be partial to this tall blonde pretty boy 😩💜

AND JUST LIKE YOU when i decided i was way too curious and enamored to ignore hammy's existence any longer, i just started researching more about real ham and just fell in love with brady's crew in general and found hammy so interesting and cool -- there is a part in a wing and a prayer where crosby writes about how hambone (unlike harry) genuinely wanted to get to the war and during training he was worried the war would already be won and over before he got the chance to go fight in it. and another member of brady's crew wrote in a journal he kept about how, while they were still in the U.S., all of brady's crew agreed with one another that they didn't wish to fight for the honor and medals of it all, they just wanted to go do their jobs, help return the world to something peaceful, and then go home. we love humble kings. anyway this is a side note but i'm ngl i feel like sometimes people in the fandom kinda mischaracterize/"Fanon"-ize hambone a lot and it sometimes rubs me the wrong way. but that's just me

obviously he probably still counts as a minor character in MOTA, but idk i love the character jordan still portrayed, he's a lil weirdo and a little silly with his gold teeth of course, but i fully love the bits of personality we got from him <33 he's a funny, witty boy with pride and confidence about his job (bombardiers r so hot it's just true. they are sexy af being competent) but also stubborn and a little aloof and easily irritable, doesn't seem to be all too bothered by being overly kind to people he doesn't know/we often only see him socializing with people from brady, crank, or blakely's crews (all men who irl hambone shared barracks with and had close ties to !) ... i love a dude who keeps to himself / doesn't feel the desire to step too far outside of his close social circle, it makes him even more intimidating imo and i love it. he's so hot. he's like a cryptid to me and i find his freaky vibes insanely alluring. like even the cat killing CANNOT put me off, if anything it made him sexier idk why .... like he's a lil vicious yes but he's also a resourceful bastard like that, like brady said protein is protein & hambone was very kind to his buddies to make them cat soup <3

ALSO he's just very very fun to write. i adore writing him he's so interesting.

#WELCOME TO MY HAMBONE HAMILTON RAMBLING HOURS. this is also the sweetest ask to ever receive anon i love you for giving me the chance to #absolutely yap about hammy . because he is so fucking beloved to me. <333333 ur so right also jordan is beautiful it's kind of inhuman #.asks

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redvelvet103 · 8 months

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Draco Malfoy Headcanons

(Because it's time for the revival of my Harry Potter phase)

𓆙 *•°~

Hey so,, Hi. This blog has been sat postless for too long so to hell with waiting to think of aesthetic things to post. Have some Draco headcanons because I've been having crazy brainrot recently. Hope you enjoy~

(this is assuming he isn't an absolute prick like he was intended to be in the books.)

𓆙 *•°~

- Dimples. He has the cutest damn dimples anyone has ever seen. People don't often see them because he doesn't smile quite bright enough, but they're there and it's vv cute.

- Silver jewelry. Mostly rings. There's a couple that he never takes off but then he has afew that he switches out depending on what he's wearing.

- Speaking of clothes,, bro has a stupidly good sense of fashion. If you want an honest opinion on an outfit, go to this man. As for himself, he takes forever in the morning to choose the perfect outfit, and he always looks good.

- Has a thing for glasses, inexplicably so. He just finds them generally adorable. For some reason though, he does find thick-rimmed glasses much cuter.

^^ To follow up on that, he also does random things for his partner if they have glasses like pushing them up or randomly taking the glasses and cleaning them.

- With his partner, his arm always manages to find its way around their waist. He finds it very comforting to keep them so close, plus it's a sort of instinct. It's very cute if he's just with his partner in the library looking for books and his arm snakes its way around them.

- If, miraculously, he knows any Muggle music, it's definitely stuff from the 60s and 70s. Probably jazz in particular. He just gives those vibes.

^^ Favourites are probably Frank Sinatra and maybe Elvis??

- Building upon him knowing about Muggle stuff, I feel like he'd really enjoy slushies?? Maybe it's in a streak of rebellion against his father's perfect vision for Draco, but he loves a slushie. His favourite is probably blue raspberry, though he hates that it makes his tongue bright blue.

- Since Narcissa is probably quite busy alot (rich people things idk-), so when he was younger Draco learnt how to style hair. He does his mother's hair pretty often and he's actually very good at doing it. His speciality is probably braids; quite easy to learn at a young age and you can do lots with them.

^^ Because of this, if you have long hair and you're a close friend of his, you best believe he'll style your hair for you if you ask. He even carries around a couple of hair bands in case.

If his partner has long hair, he loves to just play with it and run his hands through their hair to relax. He also randomly does little braids in their hair, and finds it quite theraputic.

- Poor thing probably has some kind of anxiety. I think it gets worsened by the pressure his dad most definitely puts on him. Draco always seems abit fidgety when it gets close to the Christmas and Summer holidays because he has to go back to such high expectations n such. (Poor boy :((( )

𓆙 *•°~

And that is all! Probably could think of loads more but I need time for my brain juices to start working more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! :))

Edit: forgot to tag @sugarschnaps since they came up with some of these headcanons, so... Ty bestie love u mwah

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #hp fandom #hp #hp headcanon #draco headcanons #slytherin #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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1d1195 · 4 months

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Dolcezza II

Read the first part here: Dolcezza

Glad we liked the first part so much! More tooth-rotting cuteness, sweetness, fluff, and the tiniest bit of angst.

This part (as is tradition with my second parts) doesn't really make a whole lot of cohesive sense, but the next parts should be a little more put together as a whole.

~6.7k words

“I think I would let her break m’heart,” he told Niall while they cleaned the kitchen at the end of the night about a month after she had moved in. His infatuation never wavered. But he admired her from afar. “I’d thank her,” he smiled to himself as he pretended the gravity of such a statement was a joke. Not nearly as big a deal as Niall knew it to be.

He knew he was staring. From the second he laid eyes on her, the staring started. There was no other way to describe what had happened. Harry was overwhelmed with how pretty she looked. She emanated beauty and kindness like perfume. Harry was sick with how much he adored it. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was her sole purpose in life just to look so beautiful and make him, specifically, speechless. Principessa rolled off his tongue the moment he saw her. Even though she was stunned and uttering a sad little sound of injury that he regrettably caused when she tumbled to the ground. It was instinctive. She was a princess. It was obvious.

But after only a few moments of time spent together... Maybe it was only obvious to everyone but her.

Or maybe Harry was just so overwhelmed it was just one of those things. He wasn’t kidding when he told her. Compulsive. It seemed wrong to call her anything but Principessa.

In the time that she moved in, to the present, Harry was the butt of most jokes when it came to his infatuation with her. “Is that our Principessa?” Niall teased Harry frequently. Especially when he looked longingly out the front window. The restaurant was set up so there was an opening from the kitchen peering over the main room. It wasn’t the biggest restaurant in the world, but people lined up on the sidewalk in any weather every Thursday, Friday, Saturday night without fail. The other nights were comfortably busy, and Harry was so grateful to work in a place as nice as this. Antonio was the best boss and Niall was one of his best friends.

Even more of a reason Niall teased Harry when the pretty girl got in and out of her car parked out front of the building with her phone pressed to her ear or something on her hip carrying it up the steps to her place. It took every ounce of Harry’s self-control not to run out there and take her stuff from her in the middle of cooking something every time he saw her so that he could help her.

Harry knew Niall was kidding but he didn’t like the way he said it. The teasing didn’t feel nice, and she deserved—no needed—everything that had to do with her be the nicest and sweetest thing in the world. “Ni, she’s so pretty and sweet,” he reminded him as they chopped the veggies for the day. Niall smirked at his friend who was staring at carrots and onions like they were the features of her face.

“She is pretty,” he nodded knowingly, toning down the sound of teasing in his voice. It was nice to hear Harry talk about someone like that. It had been a long while since he cared for someone the way he seemed to care for her already. Niall saw how captivated Harry was by her the second he saw her. He knew his friend was totally done for; but it was nice.

For a number of years (and after several bad bouts of heartache) Harry claimed he didn’t have time to fall in love. He worked six nights a week. On his day off, he often found himself at the restaurant anyway because his best friends were there. Work didn’t feel like work for Harry. So, dating would have been a distraction, a complication. Something Harry couldn’t fathom because of how busy his work kept him.

But Niall knew it was really that Harry thought it was too much to bear another heartbreak. Heartbreak that may not even happen, as Niall liked to point out. But Harry couldn’t see it that way.

Not until she was there, knocking Harry off his feet literally and figuratively.

Harry thought it was fate he always managed to catch sight of her whenever she was outside the restaurant; usually at her car grabbing something or putting it away. Other times, when she entered the restaurant, he was always able to see her kindly holding the door for an older couple or waving to a small child. Harry thought it was some unknown power that drew him to her and made him catch her eye every time she was within vision and distance.

She gave a wave to the host and sauntered through the main room to get to the bar just on the other side of the opening to the kitchen. A perfect view for him to admire her while he peeled veggies for Niall to chop throughout the night.

“Hi Principessa,” he smiled at her through the opening from the kitchen, just as he did every time that she situated herself in his view. Maybe Harry was reading into it. He knew he was a little lovesick with the idea of her. He tried to dial it back as much as possible so as not to scare her. But there were some things he simply couldn’t help.

On Wednesdays, she sat at the bar, ordered a drink, and ate some food. She always asked for a side of extra garlic bread and always asked if she could have a bigger portion (the angel she was, she promised she would of course pay more; she just wanted some for lunch the next day). Harry loved Wednesdays so he could gaze at her extensively from that opening to the kitchen. She usually read a book or chatted with whoever was bartending. Every so often, she would strike up a conversation with someone near her making them fall hopelessly in love with her as well. It was usually a sweet older woman who wanted to set her up with her son who was much too young for her.

Harry couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that wracked his body when someone else flirted with her. There was a bit of possessiveness to his infatuation, but he was good at separating himself from it. She wasn’t his and it was okay. If she wanted to date someone, it had nothing to do with him. He would continue to admire her from afar.

But then she would make eye contact with him. He was already looking at her and her eyelids would droop a little and she would look up at him shyly through the prettiest eyelashes he had ever seen, and he hadn’t once thought about eyelashes in his entire life. “Hi Harry,” she smiled so prettily, it made his stomach flip. He felt like a child, the way his cheeks warmed to hear his name on her lips. He busied himself with another task—stirring the tomato sauce to keep it from sticking to the bottom of the pot while it simmered. If he could, he would have stared through that opening and watched her the whole time.

Harry was considering quitting his kitchen job so he could be a bartender on Wednesdays just to be another ten feet closer to her. If it weren’t for her kind smile and her sweet voice, Harry would think he was being a bit of an overwhelming presence. But other than making sure all her furniture was properly anchored, he tried to maintain a normal distance from her and only asked her how she was doing each time he saw her. The last thing Harry wanted was to worry her about his presence in her life. Yes, he was effectively in love with her just at first glance. But he wasn’t so enveloped in the feeling that he couldn’t separate himself from it. He would much rather be friends with her than scare her with unwanted attention.

“Go talk to her, it’s slow,” Niall encouraged.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice and hurried to behind the bar and made small talk with her. It took a half hour, and her smile made his stomach churn in the best way. He hadn’t felt this way in so long and he was so glad she was there.

It was unbelievably easy to talk to her. They talked about the restaurant and how her job was going. It was nice she didn’t have to commute far and got to work from home most of the week. She inquired about the coffee shop up the road and if he had any good recommendations for shopping. Harry leaned against the bar and handed over the food from Niall from the window. She asked him if this is what he always wanted to do. He wasn’t sure but he liked it a lot and for now couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He attended culinary school and Antonio was one of the guest chefs in one of his classes. Harry took to him immediately and wanted to work for him and help however he could. He took over the old Italian bakery that was here before him, from his parents and turned it into Dolcezza and while he kept a lot of recipes it was nice to make it a place of his own.

Harry wanted to spend the rest of his life at the bar gazing at the pretty girl while she ate her eggplant parmesan and garlic bread. He wanted to ask her more about herself. Because Harry got the feeling that people didn’t really check on her. There was also an uncomfortable look in her eye when he asked about her job and her life. It was more evident by the moving herself in nearly alone.

“D’you need help with anything, kitten?” He asked.

The furrow between his eyebrows made her want to reach out and smooth the wrinkle there. Harry seemed distraught. But the idea that he was asking if she needed anything made her uncomfortable in a way that was hard to explain. Her parents relied on her a lot—the oldest of three. Her younger siblings relied on her a lot too. Her sister was always sending her essays to read. Her brother asked her for help on his math assignments at least once a week.

They lived more than an hour away from her and the only time she saw them was when she was the one going to visit them. While there, it made her anxious to see her sister leave their parents’ house, a mess from all of her belongings spread on every available surface. Visiting her brother made her anxious for a multitude of other reasons. She thought he was on the fast track to a drinking problem and was constantly reminding him of such to the point he would say things like “don’t worry, Mom.”

She loved her family. There was no question about it. But it was nice to have space between them. It was hard to move away during college and watch them struggle for a few months without her presence to essentially keep everyone in line. Her mother called her the project coordinator of the family. Stuff didn’t get done without her. It felt like she had to tell her mom and dad how to parent her younger siblings a lot of the time. It was exhausting.

So, space was good, regardless of how much she worried about them and their ability to take care of themselves.

As for her friends, Eleanor moving away was worse than any heartbreak she had ever experienced. It was fresh still and she felt really alone without her there to paint her toes or read trashy romance novels while they had spa nights where Louis would bring them pizza. Other than Eleanor, her friends walked all over her. Eleanor watched it firsthand and was happy to tell her it was happening.

She had to separate herself from the group as well—especially once they finished school because if she didn’t, she would probably be cooking dinner for some of them each week or doing their grocery shopping because they were too lazy.

She had done everything on her own for most of her life. She rarely even asked Eleanor for anything. Eleanor usually forced her help onto her which was a necessity in Eleanor’s eyes.

So no. She didn’t need Harry’s help with anything.

But she sort of wished she did, just so he would chat with her for longer.

“Hey Harry,” Niall called through the window. Harry took a quick glance around the restaurant seeing the dinner rush filling in quickly. Unfortunately, he had to get back to Niall’s side and leave her.

He enjoyed talking to her so much, enjoying her gentle laughter. He wanted to give her a kiss good night.

For as long as he could remember, Harry’s favorite color was always orange or blue. But now his favorite color was pink—the color of her cheeks whenever he flirted with her. “Have a good night, Principessa,” he smiled. A wink to replace a kiss he so desperately wanted caused the color to flood her cheeks and he was so grateful that he got to see that pretty, favorite color of his.

“Night, Harry,” she looked so utterly pretty it made him feel like he was melting.

Leonardo was Antonio’s four-year-old little boy. He was full of energy and life and made the restaurant a mess when he was around. His skin was olive-toned and with dark wavy hair. He looked like the prince of Italy and acted like it when he arrived.

It was all hands-on deck when he was around. One second without supervision he would be under a table in the main room or sneaking a meatball from the sauce in the kitchen on a plate ready to be served. At least, that’s how it usually was. Today, Leo was situated at the bar coloring in an activity book with the help of the sweet angel that Harry didn’t think he could possibly love more. But somehow here she was, a delight with kids and another piece of Harry was completely captured by her lovely persona.

“Hey Leo, who’s y’pretty date?” Harry asked ruffling his hair as he passed into the kitchen. Leo held up the book, a few of the markers he was using fell to the floor. He winked at the sweet girl as she hopped down from her seat to grab them. Her face turned that gorgeous pink he dreamed about at his sweet words and the little gesture he made toward her. She grinned back at him with a little eye roll at his kind compliment.

Leo giggled sweetly as he showed off his coloring book. “We’re coloring.”

“Oh? S’lovely. Can y’color something for me t’hang in the kitchen?” Harry asked. He nodded excitedly and went to work on the next page. “Y’on Leo duty?”

“M’babysitting,” Leo explained before she could get a word out.

“Excusa,” Harry chuckled. “You’re babysitting, Leo?” Harry repeated, while she put the markers back in front of Leo and got back into her seat.

“He is,” she smirked. “Mumma and Dadda came in to eat with Leo. Their sitter cancelled and they mentioned they haven’t been on a date since they found out about the baby almost four months ago,” she explained. “So, I asked if Leo would want to keep me company tonight.”

Harry’s heart warmed as it always did because of her kindness. Selflessness. It was overwhelming. “S’nice, Principessa.”

“Prin-pessa?” Leo asked, his little lisp messing up the nickname. He turned his attention back to the girl beside him with wide eyes. She shook her head at Harry.

“Oh yeah, Leo,” Harry nodded affirmatively ignoring her little brush off—noticing that her cheeks were once more warming at his nickname for her. “Don’t y’think she looks like a princess?”

He nodded in agreement. She rolled her eyes again, but the smile and pink of her cheeks remained on her face, which made Harry feel like he had won the lottery. “I’m hungry,” Leo told her.

“Yeah? Want some spaghetti?” She asked.

He nodded. “Can I help make it?”

She glanced behind her at the rush of people coming in and knew that a little one in the kitchen would not be ideal. “Hmm...I think we better let Harry take care of dinner. But after you eat, we can head upstairs and make something yummy for dessert. How’s that sound?”

He nodded. “So, we can keep coloring?”

“Absolutely.”

Harry didn’t want to cook. He didn’t want to move from that window and move his gaze away from the angel sitting at the bar. She was too good and Harry was too in love. It seemed impossible that he would get anything done for the rest of his life if she was going to be around.

But he wouldn’t want her anywhere else.

Leo was getting cranky toward the end of the night. He wanted to see his mom and dad and she was struggling to maintain a bit of control. He was in a t-shirt she had from a 5k she and Eleanor had walked for charity. He was missing his mom and dad, and she knew it wasn’t going to be easy to keep him calm until they came to pick him up. By then, he would be sound asleep.

Hopefully.

“Do you want to watch a movie, honey?” She asked as he got more teary and grumpier by the second.

He shook his head. She could see the frustration in his little body. She frowned at his response. “Hey, Leo?” She said softly. “I know you’re upset and you’re missing Mommy and Daddy. We gotta pass the time a little bit so they’ll be back faster. Can you think of something you’d like to do while we wait?”

“Can we color more?”

She had left the coloring supplies at the restaurant. Leo had his own little cubby out back in the staff room behind the kitchen. Harry had brought it back there for her after they left to make their cupcakes. It didn’t seem like something she needed when she moved in because she hadn’t necessarily planned on babysitting. But now she was already considering her Target run tomorrow to get activities the next time she offered to watch Leo.

She was quick on her feet though. “Yeah, let me just...see if Harry can bring it up.”

As she dialed on her phone to call the restaurant, she wondered who would answer. By now she had lived above the Italian oasis for nearly three months. They all knew her name and she was surprised they didn’t have her number saved. “Dolcezza Ristorante, how can I help you?”

“Hi...uh...can I talk to Harry?”

“Harry?” The voice asked curiously. She didn’t know who it was unfortunately. She was hoping it would be one of Antonio’s nephews but alas. She could tell the girl at the other end of the line didn’t like that she was requesting Harry’s attention.

She felt a wave of awkwardness wash over her. “Err...yeah.”

There was a bit of silence, some chatter as whoever answered walked toward the kitchen. She could hear the clanging of dishes and pans, the dishwasher humming as she got closer. There was a muffled exchange of words. “Me?” Her face warmed at the sound of the voice that she was certain she could pick out of a crowd. It made her feel ridiculous that she recognized Harry’s voice.

Even more ridiculous that her heart skipped a beat at the sound of it as well.

“Hello?” He sounded confused as he answered. But his voice sounded so warm. Like someone reading a bedtime story to her. Even though he only spoke one word.

“Hi Harry,” she smiled into the phone.

There was a loud clang from his end as something clearly toppled to the floor. There was an uproar of voices shouting and a few curse words. She had to pull the phone away from her ear at the noise and she glanced at Leo briefly. She was grateful he was feigning calmness as he waited utterly patiently—especially for a for a four-year-old, close to bed time, and missing his mom and dad. “Uh...sorry... Hi, Principessa,” he murmured. “Y’okay? Something wrong?” He asked nervously.

There was a pang of adoration for someone that cared about her well-being. No one ever really worried about her. Except for Eleanor. It wasn’t her fault but there was only so much Eleanor could worry about from a plane ride away. “No, no... we’re fine,” she promised. “Just...I hate to bother you, but if you have a minute, could you bring the coloring book up here? Leo’s missing Mommy and Daddy and wants to color some more to pass the time till they get here,” she explained.

“Oh, yeah. ‘Course,” the sound of the kitchen dissipated as he walked toward that back room to get Leo’s book. “I’ll be right up,” the phone call ended and shortly after she heard his footsteps coming up the steps and a gentle knock on the door.

She hurried to open it, Leo following behind her and peering from behind her legs. There Harry was, leaning against the door frame. Looking like a model even though he was holding a children’s coloring book. “Hi Principessa,” he smiled brightly.

“Hi Harry,” she grinned and knelt beside Leo. “Can you say thank you to Harry?” She asked.

He looked up at Harry. “Thanks, Harry,” his lower lip stuck out and he sniffled rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“No problem, lad... y’okay? Y’miss Mummy and Daddy?” He nodded, looking at the floor and turned into her embrace to hide the tears as he sniveled. She rubbed her hand along her back. Harry crouched in front of them as well. She frowned and Harry reached out to smooth his hair down. “I know y’miss them, but y’get t’hang out with this pretty Principessa and color. And when y’go t’sleep Mummy and Daddy will be back,” he reminded him.

He sniffled and rubbed his eye, turning back to Harry. “Can you color with us?” He asked.

“Aw, Leo, honey. Harry’s working right now,” she whispered rubbing his back and kissed the top of his head.

His lower lip wiggled with a threat of tears exploding from him again. “I can stay a minute,” he smiled gently. Leo turned again and reached out for Harry who grabbed him up and cautiously stepped inside the homey little place of the girl he liked so much. “S’different huh, lad? From how Mommy and Daddy decorated.”

He nodded. “Prin-pessa lives here now,” he told Harry with another little sniffle.

“She does, that must mean this is a castle,” he winked in her direction as he settled himself on the sofa and put the book in Leo’s lap. She handed him some colored pencils and let him color in the book on his lap. His little sniffles subsided, and he showed Harry the picture frequently. “Nice job, Leo,” he said encouragingly. She sat in front of Harry, helping Leo color. She tried not to touch Harry, but it was nearly futile with the closeness. She couldn’t get close to Leo without getting close to Harry. She sat on her coffee table facing the pair of boys. Her knees slotted on either side of one of his. She wondered if Harry felt the heat of her body waving off her just by their thighs touching.

Harry was lucky he had to focus on keeping Leo company and making sure he was okay. He can’t imagine a scenario in which they would be in this position, but if it weren’t for Leo, Harry would have focused solely on the way her jeans were pressed to either side of his leg. He watched her color like she was an artist from the Renaissance. Her smile was gentle while she spoke quietly to Leo praising his skills.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but she stopped coloring almost abruptly. She put all the items beside her on the coffee table. Harry looked at her curiously and she smirked, putting a finger to her lips. She stood, removing the warmth of her leg around Harry’s, making him feel like it was the dead of winter without a coat. He wanted her body back near his.

She slid her hands around Leo’s small frame and her hands brushed Harry’s fingers. He had to restrain the moan that was bubbling in his throat from how much he liked the feel of her skin against his. He thought the warmth from her would make his heart explode. She pulled Leo into her embrace and carried her to the bedroom. Harry followed her quietly and quickly. He stood in the doorway and watched her lay the little one on the bed. She left the door cracked so light could get in and she smiled kindly. “Thank you, Harry,” her voice dripped with gratitude.

Harry didn’t know restraint was an emotion, but he felt it all throughout his body. Every bit of self-control was used to not kiss her over and over until his lips hurt. “M’pleasure, Principessa.”

Harry’s favorite color appeared on her cheeks. “Do...you want something to drink or anything? Before you head back to work—oh my, are you okay?” She asked grabbing his hand and turned it over between his.

Harry had an angry burn on the back of his hand. When he heard her voice on the phone he had a visceral reaction—the adoration for her causing him to spill some hot soup on his hand as he carried it toward the counter ready to be taken to the main room. Harry didn’t even feel it. Working in a kitchen, it was likely you would get burned. Harry wasn’t sure he had any nerve endings in his fingertips anymore.

At least, not until she was holding his hand.

“Oh...yeah. M’fine. Spilled hot soup.”

“I’ll have to remember how hot it is when I order it,” she looked at it nervously. “Can...do you need a bandage?”

“Oh, we have gloves in the kitchen,” he shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal to him. The only thing he could think about was how nice her hand felt holding his.

She frowned which made him sad. “Can... Can I wrap it or something for you? It looks painful and the glove will probably rub it raw or something,” she was already tugging him toward the kitchen, so he had no choice but to agree. Not that he wanted to argue. A few extra minutes with the pretty girl was well worth it. Harry had spent a good chunk of time in this apartment but somehow it was completely new. She released his hand, making him fraught with emotion. He nearly wanted to order her to hold it again. In the kindest of ways of course.

It seemed like this was something she really needed to do. Like it was hard for her to ask Harry for something without doing something for him in return. She gathered the supplies she needed and carefully slathered some ointment on his burn, holding his hand again making him forget all coherent thought. She was so gentle and careful. The burn was no big deal but it was so nice the way she tended to it. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal.

But Harry was undeniably in love with her.

“Thank you, Principessa.”

She smiled looking at his hand in hers. “You’re welcome, Harry. Thank you for helping with Leo. Sorry I bothered you.”

“Not at all, kitten. Y’don’t bother me at all,” he murmured as she smoothed the bandage on his hand.

It was cold again when she released him.

“Well, thank you anyway.”

“’Course. Always,” he promised. She smiled and put the supplies away. She wished she could have asked Harry to stay, but she knew he had to get back. He started for the door and flexed his hand a bit with the bandage wrapped around it. There were a lot of kitchen injuries he had suffered over the years and somehow this was his favorite because she tended so sweetly to it.

“I’ll...see you tomorrow,” she said softly.

“Yeah?” He smirked. “S’not Wednesday.”

She looked at her feet. “I know...but...I like seeing you,” she admitted glancing back at him with those pretty eyelashes and the pink cheeks he loved so much.

Harry was certain this was what winning the lottery felt like. He leaned down toward her and pecked her cheek so quickly, he barely even felt it on his lips—even though there was electricity pulsing through him as he did it. “I like seeing you too,” he whispered in her ear and headed down the stairs before he did something crazy like proposed to her. “Good night, Principessa,” he called over his shoulder.

“Eleanor Jane!”

Harry would recognize her voice in the dead of sleep, in a coma, halfway across the world.

Her voice was muffled by the door. As well as the thudding of someone knocking on the door. It was a few hours until they opened and if it weren’t for Harry hearing her sweet voice, he might have missed it or ignored it.

Harry hurried through the main room, unlocked the door, and looked at the three people in front of him. “Oh, you’re definitely Harry,” Eleanor smirked as she pushed past him.

“Jesus,” she sighed and put a hand on her forehead. “Louis, she’s insane,” she said to the guy who sauntered in after her.

“That’s my girl,” he said proudly and nodded to Harry as he brushed by him.

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled softly.

His heart softened. Harry loved the way his name sounded on her lips and in her voice. “Hi, Principessa.”

“Eleanor is in town,” she explained. She twisted her fingers together awkwardly.

“I see,” he chuckled as he glanced behind him to see her friend checking out all the artwork on the walls.

“We have a very busy couple of days. We’re getting a chunk of Louis’ stuff packed up and such. But...she really wants pasta and it’s,” she sighed looking a little ill as she spoke. “It’s the only time we really have...and you can say no. I told her we would just order takeout later—”

Harry understood. She didn’t want to bother him of course. Despite how hard he had tried to explain that she could never bother him. “Course, kitten,” he stood against the door to let her in finally. “Niall and I would be happy to,” he smiled.

“You really don’t mind? Antonio won’t mind?”

“Not at all, Principessa,” he promised pressing a hand on her lower back as he guided her further inside to join her friend.

“I told you he wouldn’t care.”

She rolled her eyes at Eleanor as the three sat at the bar.

Harry helped her onto her stool in the most chivalrous and gentlemanly fashion, Eleanor was grinning ear to ear as he did. He squeezed the top of her arm and winked as he headed back into the kitchen. “D’you want eggplant?” He asked through the window, and she blushed, then nodded. It made her feel warm that Harry knew what she wanted. Even though she had ordered it once a week since she moved in. “Eleanor, Louis? What can I make?”

“Cacio e pepe sounds good to me,” Louis smirked looking over the menu.

“Oh, I’ll take anything you want to make Harry. I’m not picky.”

He nodded and started preparing the dishes. Niall glanced through the window at the sight of the pretty girl and her friends. “You’re a mess,” Niall laughed.

Harry shrugged but there was a smile plastered on his lips.

“So, Harry, I hear you’ve really taken my best friend’s interest.”

“Eleanor, shut up,” she hissed, covering her pretty face with both hands.

Harry smiled, his cheeks warming. “Yeah? S’good. Can’t get her off m’mind either,” he winked at her through the window. Eleanor giggled and Louis rolled his eyes at her forwardness.

But Harry saw the splash of her pretty irises peek through the space between her fingers as she registered what Harry said. “You can’t steal her from me,” Eleanor said knowingly. “She’s my best friend.”

“Would never take her from you, Eleanor,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.

While Eleanor and Harry chatted like they had known each other their whole lives as well, she tried not to think about how Harry said he couldn’t get her out of her mind.

Tried.

She very much failed and thought that maybe she wouldn’t mind falling harder for Harry.

Harry was organizing the bar while the three of them ate. She was used to the pasta—of course it was delicious, but it was easier for her to pace herself knowing if she wanted, she could have more at any hour of the day.

She nibbled on her garlic bread—the extra portion that Harry had placed in front of her with a wink.

Eleanor was picking at Louis’ and hers at the same time. “Aye! Eat your own,” he said protectively and pulled his plate toward him so Eleanor couldn’t reach. She frowned and turned her attention back to her best friend, stealing some of her pasta and snagged a piece of garlic bread. She passed a piece to Louis and finally tried her own meal. “There’s been no sign of your stalker, right?” Eleanor asked as she put the first bite in her mouth. “Oh, this is delicious,” she moaned. She didn’t get to remark on how good the pasta really was because her comment was overshadowed by Harry’s head snapping to attention at the words coming out of the best friend of his Principessa.

She tilted her head back to avoid Harry’s eye contact. She hated bringing up this topic. Especially in front of other people. Even if Harry was slowly becoming her favorite person now that Eleanor wasn’t around, Harry was going to get worried. That was the last thing she wanted. “I could strangle you,” she murmured to her friend.

“What?” Eleanor frowned.

“M’sorry t’eavesdrop,” Harry said apologetically holding two bottles of wine in each hand as he restocked the wine cooler. “Did...did y’say stalker?”

Her cheeks turned pink. Eleanor frowned and turned back to her best friend. “You didn’t tell them?”

She sighed heavily and shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she shrugged.

Harry’s eyebrows rose to the middle of his forehead. He begrudgingly turned his attention to Eleanor assuming that she would give him the details for such a worrisome topic. Eleanor sighed. “Maybe you can convince her. There’s this guy who follows her.”

“Not now,” she grumbled. “He doesn’t do anything. He just... follows me.”

Harry felt utterly uncomfortable with such a statement and how neutral she seemed to feel about it. His heart started to beat erratically at the thought of something happening to her. He wanted to handcuff her to the bar just so he could keep an eye on her. Harry put the bottles into the cooler while Eleanor filled in the full details. He listened with rapt attention. She ate her garlic bread and pasta as if this was a normal situation. Truly, nothing to worry about.

Louis added in a few details as well. “There haven’t really been any events that were... scary,” Louis added for her benefit. Eleanor glared at him viciously. “But it makes El and I pretty uncomfortable. Really worried,” he told Harry with a smirk to Eleanor as her glare softened at his words.

Harry, on the other hand, was nearly shutting down with the influx of information. His pretty Principessa. It wasn’t fair. It was scary. He couldn’t believe she wouldn’t lead with that. “Principessa, s’not okay.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “He hasn’t followed me since I’ve moved,” she put her forehead on the bar.

Harry frowned and made eye contact with Eleanor. “Hmm...”

Eleanor patted her back. “You’re fine. We all just care about you,” she rolled her eyes. “I know that’s a hard thing for you to consider,” she smirked with a shake of her head.

“Jeez, El. Why don’t you just stab her,” Louis chuckled.

“I like Louis more than you,” she murmured into the bar.

She flicked the back of her head and looked at Harry.

“Harry,” Eleanor smiled sweetly.

“Oh boy,” Louis chuckled sipping his drink.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed looking up at Eleanor and tried to put a hand over her mouth to keep her from talking to Harry.

Harry thought it was funny, even if his heart was racing with worry. “Would you mind keeping an eye on her?” She fluttered her lashes sweetly as her best friend turned bright red with embarrassment. Harry smiled softly.

He didn’t want to upset the poor thing when she already seemed so distraught. Harry knew a bit about her but didn’t know everything, obviously. It was abundantly clear that she would rather die than inconvenience someone on her behalf.

“Of... of course,” Harry nodded at Eleanor. “But... m’sure she’s... sounds like she has it under control,” it tasted like sour milk to say those words. He wanted to say something along the lines of he would sleep outside her door and walk her to and from the grocery store. But Harry wasn’t her boyfriend—even if he was already, completely, and obviously in love with her.

Even if she wasn’t ready to notice just yet.

“Ugh, you have him fooled too,” Eleanor frowned.

She smirked patting Eleanor’s back. She turned to Harry for a moment and met his gentle gaze. It made her feel soft. When he pecked her cheek, or held her hands, each time he touched her lower back, or when he was coloring with her and Leo. Harry made her feel so completely warm with the smallest of touches and now he wasn’t even touching her. She was frustrated Eleanor brought it up. Even more frustrated Harry was worried about her. He had plenty of more important tasks to deal with than worry about her.

But she didn’t want anyone to worry about her. So, if asking Harry for help every now and again appeased Eleanor...

“Harry,” her voice was so soft and gentle. He was captured immediately by her voice and gaze. “Even though you’ve already done about a million ridiculous things for me,” and he very much had not. The little tasks he did to help her move in weren’t anything. Chatting with her, making food for her, and even coloring with Leo were all easy and nothing special. They weren’t even the bare minimum because they were so easy and simple. He wanted to do more for her. “If... if it’s not too much trouble,” it looked like she was struggling to say whatever words were in her head. It seemed ridiculous that she was going to ask Harry for help solely to make Eleanor feel better. Not even herself.

But he wasn’t going to make her say it when it clearly frustrated her to worry about herself.

Maybe he could help her understand that it wasn’t a big deal to worry about her, eventually.

“I’ll keep an eye on y’Principessa. S’pretty easy when I can’t stop staring at how pretty y’look anyway,” he winked and headed to the kitchen hoping to leave Eleanor to gossip about something other than the guy following her best friend.

He caught a glimpse of his favorite color painting her face while Eleanor was giggling and hitting her arm with excitement through the window.

But most importantly, he saw the faintest smile on her lips. Like she was happy that Harry cared for her even a little bit. Hopefully with every little baby step, Harry would convince her she wasn’t a bother.

In fact, he hoped to convince her that she really was a princess in his eyes.

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sassyfrassboss · 2 years

Text

Story Time - Small World

So I took an early train home from work. Today was just overwhelming.

Anyways. Sit down in the Cafe Car of Amtrak because I was planning on having a cocktail or two. Across from me is a, perhaps my age maybe younger, gentleman who I politely asked if I could share the table with. He gargled something back at me...I repeated my question and he said yes.

Shortly thereafter he answers his phone and he has the thickest Scottish accent I have ever heard in the US. He is talking about The Queen dying and Charles becoming Charles III.

Anyways, he ends his phone call and gets up to grab some food and a couple of beers. I follow suit with a double vodka soda.

We sit back down at our table and he asks where I am headed. I told him the next stop as I am a commuter and I explained to him that I had a rough couple days and The Queen dying sealed it.

He said "Oh! I know! I landed and heard so it just hit me. No one can replace her. It's a sad day." We exchanged conversation on Charles (my new friend doesn't think he will be a good King nor will he live much longer) and he loves William and Catherine. Turns out my new friend also worked at Windsor on the farm and grew up right outside of St. Andrews so he is familiar with William and Catherine. He is VERY familiar with the Royals and a big fan.

We saluted The Queen, both got a little teary, and he told me about all the times he has come into contact with the family.

Andrew sucks. Everyone he knows and then some hate Meghan and can't stand the new Harry. Sarah Ferguson is very nice. Edward and Sophie are beyond down to Earth and very very very nice and so are their children.

The Queen was not only nice, but very funny and would often mention how she wished her dogs behaved as well as the cows.

As for William and Catherine. They are adored. People love how they are raising their children and how strong William is and how much he protects his family.

On a day that was filled with sadness, the universe put someone in my path that has an actual connection to the people we are mourning for.

It was incredible and put a smile on my face.

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gurugirl · 2 years

Text

The Tiffany Club Part 6

Summary: Camille is a sex club worker living in NYC. She meets Harry, a private equity CEO millionaire one day and they realize they like each other. A lot. But will Harry be willing to overlook Camille’s career choice?

AN/Warning: I will have a * by the parts when smut is included. This warning list is comprehensive for all parts, not all contain smut or listed warnings. NSFW, smut, oral (male and female), 18+ only (as always), angst, dom & sub themes, sex work, light alcohol use, mentions of disordered eating and food restrictions

Pairing: Sex club worker Camille x Harry Styles

Part 5

Part 6

Harry

My morning began by getting myself off. I woke up thinking about her and couldn’t help it. Plus maybe it’d help calm my nerves when I do see her later today. I used the gym in the hotel I’m staying at and boxed for an hour, then I showered, ate an apple and had coffee before heading toward the park. I woke up rather late this morning because I didn’t get back to the hotel until around 4 AM.

I head toward the fountain where we said we’d meet and I already see her with her long red, wool coat, and her adorable black and white pit bull, Barry. I can’t help the smile that casts over my features as I get closer to her. She looks super cute. Her hair is back in a ponytail and under the coat I see she’s wearing just some jeans and white shirt tucked in as well as a pair of Vans. I happen to be wearing my Vans today as well.

When she spots me walking toward her I see her face light up immediately. She looks down toward Barry and I watch her lips move, probably telling him something, and then they begin to walk toward me. I give her quick hug and rub the top of Barry’s head, who quickly sits and watches me with his tail wagging.

“Thank you for coming. I was half worried you might not show up. How are you?” I spit out quickly. My nerves have become frazzled in her presence suddenly.

She chuckles and smiles at me, “I’m great. I was actually worried you wouldn’t show up. I told Barry not to get his hopes up but then you showed and now we’re both happy.”

We start walking around along the pathway in the park. Barry stopping occasionally to sniff and pee on bushes. Our conversation is light and easy, mostly small talk. I talk about the apartment I might be buying. She asks me more about that, where the apartment is, if I plan on being in NYC more often than in London since I’m buying here. I find out her plans for the rest of the day and for tomorrow (both of her days off) and realize that I could potentially spend more time with her. She really isn’t doing much of anything. She said she does want to get groceries tomorrow, though and in passing mentions that she mentally made her shopping list while she was with her charge last night, which I find amusing and helps my nerves a little. I don’t want to ask too many details about what she did or what she does because the more I look at her and watch her cute facial expressions when she speaks, the more I realize I would like to be the only guy she gives that sort of attention to. But I can’t ask that of her. Not yet anyway. Maybe after some time I can charm her enough and offer to take care of her… no. I can’t do that. She doesn’t seem the type to want that. I’m probably getting too ahead of myself with these thoughts anyway. I decree to myself to just take it one step at a time with this girl. She’s going to like me or not and we’ll work out or not.

We stop at one of the stands in the park and grab a couple of coffees and I buy a sleeve of the unsalted crackers so I can feed the birds and maybe sneak a couple to Barry to win his love. When we stop at a free bench, Camille connects Barry’s leash to the seat and he lays down next to us at our feet. I crumble a few crackers and toss them a few feet away to where the birds are hopping around.

“Why don’t you let Barry off his leash so he can run a bit?” I question her, as I see others with their dogs running around.

“Well, the first thing is that we’re not in a fenced dog park so it’s illegal to do what the others are doing. The second part to that, though, is that Barry’s a pit bull and too many people are terrified of him so I keep him on a leash with me unless we’re somewhere safe where I can control any outcome. It’s just the sad reality of owning a dog that looks like Barry. I can tell people he’s sweet and easy going til I’m blue in the face but some will just find a way to turn it into something it shouldn’t be. Plus, he’s okay. He’s a little older nowadays and he prefers just sniffing grass, eating sticks and looking off into the distance, contemplating his life choices.” She laughs as she looks down at Barry who is sprawled out on his side lying in the grass. Her laugh is the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time.

“Wow. Had no idea. I mean, I’d heard things about pit bulls but never really knew it was such a big deal to some people. Guess I’ll have to learn all about those idiosyncrasies, huh?”

She draws her brows in confusion, “Why? Why would you need to learn about them? He’s my responsibility.”

I just grin at her, trying to feign confidence but I’m losing it internally, “Well, I mean, if we hang out more often then knowing those kinds of things could be useful. Right? Unless you don’t think we should hang out again. I just thought…”

She is shaking her head and puts her hand over mine, “No! Of course I want to hang out with you. Geez… I just didn’t expect you to want to hang out with me. I know you suggested this meet up but I kind of thought you’d flake out.”

I turn my palm face up so I can hold her hand properly and she looks down between us as I intertwine our fingers, “I walked you home last night. Was that not enough to show you that I want to get to know you, at the very least?”

She pauses for a bit as she watches my face. She blinks, looks down to our hands and then I see a small smile creep over her face, “You did. And that surprised me. And you showed up here today, and that also surprised me. I just go into things expecting the worst. My source of income is a little shady and makes things difficult when it comes to relationships. So, I don’t know what to expect with you to be honest. I have to be truthful, though, and say that if you can’t handle what I do at work, then you should probably consider not seeing me anymore. I hate to just start things off like that but it really helps in the long run so I don’t get my hopes up, and you too.”

I nod and squeeze her hand. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to stop seeing her, even if I don’t really like what she does. I will do everything in my power to push that down for the sake of getting to know her.

“I understand. I guess we should be as honest with one another as we can then, if we do decide to take this further. For me, I just want to get to know you and maybe start dating you if you decide you like me. I can’t say that I love the idea of what your job entails, but I understand it and I know the world’s not an easy place. You have to do whatever it takes in this life to take care of yourself and I find that admirable. Will you let me get to know you, Camille? And we can just go from there?”

She looks shocked. Her mouth hung open, her eyebrows lifted as she nods her head, “Wow. Sounds ideal.” She sighs, “I would love to get to know you, Harry. I just need you to understand that what I do at work is separate from anything outside of it. I won’t give up my job if you ask me, so don’t even try that. I make my own way in this world. I pay my bills, I take care of myself, and put money away for my future. Right now, I don’t know you that well but I wouldn’t mind knowing you better. I just hope you’re sincere in all of this. I don’t like getting hurt. I’ve been told before that what I do isn’t a problem but it turns out it usually is a problem. I realize that it’s not comfortable to think about on your side of things, but as long as you can come to terms with it and try not to guilt me or persuade me to find another job, you and I could have a good time seeing each other.”

We smile at one another for a moment and I just think she’s gorgeous. The prettiest person I’ve ever met. “Okay. I’ll prove it to you that I can handle it. I’ll try my hardest not to get jealous, but even if I do get a little jealous, I won’t ask you to stop doing what you’re doing. I promise. But you should know, that I probably will feel somewhat jealous over you. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.”

She excitedly shoots up and leans in and kisses me right on the mouth, taking me by complete surprise, a bubble of a laugh leaving her mouth when she sits back down into her spot next to me. I stare at her, stunned, wanting more and so I slowly lean down, grasping her neck and push my lips onto hers. I give her soft open-mouthed kisses on her lips and she returns the sweetness back to me. The feeling of her lips on mine sends me swirling somewhere above the clouds. She hums into my mouth and I back away. Her cheeks are pink, her lips are wet and she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, did I mention that already? How pretty she is. How perfect.

“You look cuter and cuter every time I see you.” I speak to her, my face still leaning toward hers, not wanting to leave the warmth of our bubble.

She chuckles and smiles at the compliment, “Uh, sure. Are you saying you like this look more than last night?”

Her skin is bright and fresh, I see no trace of makeup and I definitely like her better without makeup. Not that I didn’t like her look last night, god did I love the way she looked last night. But that’s not really her. This is her. And this is just for me.

“You’re excruciatingly gorgeous right now. I do prefer this look, though, yeah. Not that what I prefer matters, just being honest, is all.”

She looks at me for a moment and I see a sparkle in her eyes, something comes across her face, an expression I can’t really read. She narrows her eyes and looks over my shoulder, then down at Barry, and then meets my gaze again. She places her hand on my neck and rubs over my jaw, her mouth parted like she wants to say something but she is gauging herself, gauging me.

“What? You look like you want to say something. What is it?” I ask her. I push my hand into her unbuttoned coat and slide it over her waste and squeeze lightly to pull her in closer to me as I keep my eyes on hers.

“Fuck. I’m just gonna…” she swallows and chuckles in nervousness before she licks her lips and takes a deep breath, “… do you want to come back to mine?” She looks unsure of herself when she asks me but I’m stunned at her request. I didn’t imagine she’d ask me over and I am immediately nodding and smiling down at her.

“Of course. Now?” I squeeze her side again.

“Uh, yeah, if you want. Unless you’re busy or something. I know we said we’d go somewhere to eat but maybe I can order in? I don’t really feel like sitting outside to eat, and since we have Barry we’d have to find a table outside and it’s kind of cold out right now…”

I stop her mid-ramble and kiss her lips lightly and let out a small laugh, “I’d love to. Let’s go.” I pull at her as I get up and she stands before unhooking Barry’s leash from the bench. We walk to her place, mostly in silence. There is some small talk but the sidewalk is full of people today and it’s difficult to walk directly next to her with all the tourists and locals out today. I follow close behind and Barry looks behind every now and then to make sure I’m following. I already like the furry guy more than most people I’ve ever met.

When we arrive to her building, I follow her into the courtyard and keep close as she unlocks the door to get into the building. As soon as we’re in the lobby the warm air soothes my cold cheeks. I hadn’t realized how cold it was outside until I stepped into the entry of the building Her building has no security or door man. No elevator even. We walk up five flights of stairs until we get to her apartment. She quickly unlocks the door and I follow her into her place. I close the door and lock it behind me as Camille is bending down and removing Barry’s harness. She hangs up the leash and harness near the door and toes off her vans. I do the same with mine.

The entry of the apartment has me facing a wall. It appears to be a short hallway that connects a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room. She has a piece of art hung on the wall. To my immediate left is the living room. The ceilings are high and the windows facing the street are very tall, making the space look larger than it is. She has a television on a stand, a modular couch, a bookshelf, a large rug covering the wood floors, some plants, a tall lamp and a corner cabinet with speakers and a record player. Along one side of the wall are two doors.

“That’s my closet. It’s the only closet in the whole place and since this building is ancient its in the living room.” She steps near it and opens it up. It’s a big closet and it goes the length of the room. There’s a small shelf inside of it with boxes stacked and every inch of the space is taken up with clothes, shoes, coats, and more boxes. She leads me down the tiny hall and there’s a very small bathroom in the center of the hallway with black and white subway tiles a pedestal sink sat next to a toilet and then a shower/tub combo with a tiny, frosted window that faces toward the courtyard. Just next to the bathroom is her bedroom. She pushes the door open and she’s got a full sized bed, a dresser, a shelf, a desk with computer, and a bedside table in the room – that’s it. Everything is tucked together and there’s not much space to step around anything. Her bed is pushed against the wall and she’s got a few pieces of art hung. Then just next to the bedroom is a small kitchen with one piece of counter, a sink, a stove, and a fridge. The other side of the wall has a garbage can and hanging shelves for some storage. There’s a door in the kitchen and she points to it, “That goes out to the fire escape. If I have smokers over they can use it to smoke. But this is it. 600 square feet of Midtown living right here, baby.” She sing-songs her words. She removes her coat and walks past me to hang it where the leash is hung and I follow her. Barry follows us. I remove my coat and drape it over hers.

She walks into her living room and turns on some music. I follow and stay standing, Barry hops onto the couch in the center and watches us. I sit down next to Barry and rub his head, he leans into me so I continue and scratch behind his ear. He’s loving it.

Camille laughs and smiles at the two of us, “He’s a ham. He loves attention. Now that you’ve started, he’s going to bug you to continue. You’re doomed to a life of service to Barry now, just like me.” Barry lays down, plopping his heavy head onto my thigh and keeping his eyes on me to make sure I keep scratching him.

Camille sits down on the other side of the couch. As cute as Barry is, I really would like to have Camille here in my lap instead. But I continue rubbing Barry for the time being.

We decide on ordering in pizza. As we’re figuring out what to order we both learn something new about one another. We both don’t eat meat. I never assume someone’s eating habits but I was definitely surprised we both have similar ones. So we order cheese pizza with mushrooms and olives. I let her pick the toppings because I don’t care all that much. I would normally just order plain cheese, truthfully.

Her space is very small but it’s tidy and decorated pretty nicely. I know rent in this area has to be insane, but it does make me wonder what she makes working where she does. Does she spend all her money on rent or is she able to save up some? She said she saves her money up, which is good.

We both settle back on her couch, which is just slightly longer than a loveseat. The music playing in the background is soft and easy to talk over. Barry is now laying on the rug at the center of the room and sighing dramatically.

Camile tells me more about her upbringing and I can’t focus on much other than her plush lips moving. I’m trying my hardest to pay close attention to what she’s telling me but after the kiss we shared in the park I’m stuck on wanting more of that. I want to touch her and be closer and sitting at opposite ends of her short couch isn’t cutting it for me.

In an attempt to recover from not listening to all of her words, I focus on what I do remember and respond so she knows I’m listening (even though I’m not listening as well as I should be). “So, you’re really happy here, then? In the big city? Despite your upbringing?” See? Not bad. I may be a regular horn dog, but at least I’m trying.

She nods at me scoots so her back is against the arm rest, her legs bent, body facing me, “Yeah. I am. There are things I want still, that I don’t have, but I’ve gotta work and earn money first so that I can have all the things I want in the end. Well, that’s the idea anyway. I doubt I have too many more years left at Tiffany’s. Getting up there in age and all.” She laughs and stares at me as she takes her index finger and traces it over her bottom lip. It causes me to realize she probably wants something more than to just sit and talk as well. Perhaps she wants to kiss me again, as badly as I want to kiss her. And because I’m nothing, if not confident and sure of myself I ask her directly.

“Can I kiss you again, Camille?” I lick my lips and wait for her response as she smiles and blushes at my words. The girl is blushing and it causes my heart to suddenly thud harder against my chest than it had been.

“Please.” She whispers as she scoots herself toward me. I turn my body so that I’m sitting with my knee bent outward on the couch like she is and lean myself toward her. I let my hand rise up to gently hold her face and I touch my nose to hers, lips almost at their destination but not quite. I take a few seconds to breathe her in before allowing my lips to press onto hers.

I hadn’t realized how desperate she was for me until we got into a rhythm with our mouths opening and closing softly, wetly over our lips. When my tongue danced along the seem of her lips she opened her mouth and we began to deepen the kiss effortlessly. She sweetly moaned into my mouth and her hands were in my hair, pulling on me to get as close to her as possible. Her body was nearly hovering over mine as she kneed herself up, placing her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. I easily leaned back to give her access to my lap if she so desired, and I had a pretty good idea she did. She lowered one palm down over the slope of my chest and I placed a hand at her hip, while keeping the other at her neck, thumbing over her jaw. She gingerly lifted a leg and brought it over my lap, encasing me between her thighs. She moved her hands back into my hair and now I had both hands holding onto her hips, urging her closer. She eagerly complied, scooting up toward me and with finality, rocking her core over mine once, and then twice.

In this moment I’m aware of what I’m risking with Camille. I want to take this as far as she’ll let me but should we? I have her in my lap, practically melting in her panties for me and I’m honored, I’m flattered she wants me. And god do I want her too. It’s been so long since I’ve had that sharp excitement from just being near someone you fancy. I barely know this girl but I’m giddy over the fact that she’s in my lap and I’m in her apartment. I have very little time to make a decision about how I want to proceed, because if I have sex with her then I’m going to have to do some drastic rearranging of my life in London. No, I’m not married. But, I’m not necessarily single either. The girl back in London, Lindsay, is someone I’ve been seeing off an on now for over a year. We aren’t exclusive, but we also haven’t been seeing others. Unless we’re not talking during the “off” times. We have had too many offs lately and it’s become something I don’t like anymore. We’ve never been a great couple. We argue constantly, we do not see eye-to-eye on basic foundational stuff, like what our future will look like. She wants something I don’t want and vice versa. And then there’s the matter of family. She’s been jealous of my mother on several occasions. Like, genuinely jealous to the point that one time, I called it off again. She hates that I am as close with my mother as I am. And my sister. Lindsay doesn’t have much of a family to speak of and I think that’s why she gets jealous but god-forbid I have a loving mother and sister when she can’t. But then we always seem to get back together somehow. We do have the same circle of friends and have known each other for years. It’s hard to escape her. Whenever we’d be “off” again we’d still see each other when we’d hang out with our friends or get invited to some gathering. And she’s quite lovely when she’s not being a psychotic bitch. She’s a successful, and creative woman with a bright mind. When we can agree on a subject we have a good conversation. But we rarely agree on things in general. It’s like everything I like is repulsive to her and for me, likewise. She enjoys chicken salad sandwiches. You know the chunks of boiled poultry meat mixed with mayonnaise, some pickles, and onions, or god fucking knows what else goes in them. Then that lovely concoction gets smothered over a slab of sturdy sliced bread, topped with another piece of bread and then is ready to be consumed. I should have known just from that alone that it could never work with Lindsay.

So, now, as I sit here with a very pretty young woman in my lap, eagerly awaiting my next move I have a decision to make. Now, I’m sure you already know what my decision is but I want to pretend that I’m having a conundrum over this. I want to feel less guilty about what I’m about to take part in. Because I won’t need to feel too bad for too long anyway. I will call Lindsay later today, or tomorrow (because who knows how today will go, it could turn into tomorrow) and call it off with her once and for all. I had formulated a plan before I began anything with Camille. My main purpose in coming to New York and splitting my time between here and London would be to expand business. We have more opportunities if we have an office in the U.S. and in the U.K. However, being able to have the excuse of being away more often would be useful in being able to rid myself of Lindsay once and for all. It all sounds very cruel, I know. Maybe it is, but she just doesn’t make me happy anymore and we’re toxic for one another. Our relationship cannot continue and she knows it. We even had a big blowout before I left for New York. And it wasn’t because she was going to miss me being gone for three weeks. Oh no. She doesn’t care if I leave, she was worried about the fact that I hadn’t picked up dinner on my way home like I said I would. I was supposed to bring take out and she was meeting me at my place. I forgot to pick up the food. I ordered it for pick up, I just failed to actually drive to pick up the food on my way home from the office. I simply forgot. There’s no more to it than that. As soon as I walked into my flat, Lindsay was already inside. I hated when she’d let herself in, but I had given her a key after all. She noticed immediately my empty hands and began screaming at me. Screaming over food I paid for and forgot to pick up. I just stood there watching her blow up over dinner.

“I skipped lunch too because I thought you were bringing dinner. Fuck! Did you just forget I was coming over? Is that it? Because it doesn’t make sense how you’d forget to pick up the food if you were anticipating me being here. Right? Like your first thought should have been that you were going to see me so that would have reminded you to get the food. But you didn’t. Instead you just completely forgot! I just don’t get it! Am I that boring to you? Do I mean so little to you that you would forget that I was coming over for dinner the night before you leave the country!?”

I couldn’t think of much to say to her other than I just forgot to pick up the food. And then I made the grave mistake of saying that skipping lunch was her own fault. She didn’t like that. She yelled and bitched at me some more. She swatted at my chest as she walked past me to use my bathroom which really caught me off guard. Sometimes she would get physical but it wasn’t often, and never much more than a shove or swat to my chest. Swatting at my chest isn’t a big deal but just imagine if I’d done that to her. I didn’t know what I could say to her. She’d made up her mind that she thought I’d forgotten her. I didn’t of course. I placed the order and everything. But I was also so tired of her yelling and the baseless accusations that I just decided to shut down and stop defending myself or trying anymore.

When she came out of the bathroom I was already rummaging through my pantry to pull out stuff to make a simple marinara spaghetti. Lindsay stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Her face was red as she was yelling at me once again. She doesn’t like spaghetti and I should know better, she hates it! She was acting like a child yelling about hating spaghetti when I had had enough.

“Stop, Lindsay. If you don’t stop shouting at me over every fucking thing you can leave. I don’t know why you’re still here to be honest.”

She looked at me in confusion but she was still red in anger. Her refusal to give up her stance, along with some more shouting led me to calmly walking past her toward her purse. I dipped my hand in it to grab her key ring. She shouted at me some more, asking me why I’m touching her things when I finally pull out her keys and coolly remove the key to my flat from her ring. I drop her keys back into her purse and put a fist around the key I’d given her. I walk past her without even looking in her direction and it’s the first bit of silence she’s awarded me since I’ve stepped into my home. But the silence doesn’t last long as she begins speaking again.

“Why did you just take the key, Harry?” She scoffs as if it’s crazy of me to do such a thing.

I turn to look at her and place the key flat onto the counter as I answer her, “Because I’m leaving the country for three weeks tomorrow and I don’t need you letting yourself in while I’m away.” I return to the stove and continue making Lindsay’s most despised dish. She watches me in utter shock. I get a good glance at her and she’s staring daggers into my temple. I speak up finally, “If you don’t like spaghetti and you haven’t eaten since breakfast, you should probably leave so you can find something you do like to eat. Would hate for you to go hungry.”

She needs little more convincing that I’m done with her antics for the night. She throws a few insults at me for good measure before slamming the front door behind her as she leaves.

I slept like a baby that night knowing I wasn’t going to be giving her key back to her.

But now, back to my conundrum. Sweet Camille is still sipping from my lips as she straddles my lap and I decide to be honest with her before letting anything further take place. I mean, I should be honest, right? That's what adults do when they want to have a healthy relationship, and if there's any hope for something with Camille it's the least I can do.

I keep my hands at her hips but I move my head back from her lips to halt her actions and she pouts adorably.

I bring one hand up to cup her jaw as I speak, “Sorry. I feel like I should tell you something before we continue this.” I watch her for a moment before I see her face soften and she nods, “I have been seeing someone in London but I’m calling it off with her. I mean, I’d made the decision to call it quits a few days ago but just hadn’t done it because I haven’t spoken to her. We aren’t really speaking at the moment, hence why I will be ending it with her…” I trail off, wanting to gauge Camille’s expression. She is hard to read. I can’t tell what’s going on in her mind but I’m hoping this doesn’t change her mind about me. It probably will but I can hope at least.

She sits back, creating a small distance, but stays on my lap, shaking her head, “Fuck. I knew you were too good to be true.” She frowns and begins to move herself off of me. Part of me wants to hold her in place and make her stay but I know rationally that’s not going to help, I know. “So, you have a girlfriend?” She sits next to me on the couch and puts her face in her hands.

“No. She’s never been a girlfriend. She’s just been someone I’ve dated on and off. But like I said, we’re done. I know I should have told you before this. I’m sorry.”

Camille stays in her spot rubbing her hands over her face and then I hear her begin to laugh incredulously.

“I’m usually so good at sniffing out a guy who’s not single. I misjudged you.” She finally looks at me with her kiss-swollen lips and pink cheeks. She looks upset, but not mad necessarily. I sigh and remain silent while she searches over my face.

“But of course you’re not single. Ugh… I was looking forward to finding out where this could go. I know it might seem unfair of me to expect a guy to not be fucking others while I do what I do for work, but still… that’s what I want.” She sighs and looks up to her ceiling in thought.

“I’m sorry, Camille. I didn’t expect to meet someone and then start to really like them so quickly right away. I mean, I’ve just gotten to New York and you’ve been a wonderful and unexpected surprise. But that’s why I told you too. I am breaking it off with her, though. When I do, will you consider seeing me? Like going on dates and getting to know me?” I keep my eyes on her profile, hoping she can overlook my faults.

She turns her head to look at me with a serious expression, “I… would like to think you’d have already called it off with her. I am glad you told me, but obviously since I don’t know you all that well, I don’t know how much I can trust your word. I mean, you could have called it off with her this morning before seeing me, you know? I just can’t know you’re being honest. So, how would I know? Right? This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve dealt with similar situations where the guy is breaking up with his wife or girlfriend and then I trust that and fall for them, and then they never do and I’m the one left by myself in the end.” She drops her head down and looks into her lap. I feel awful but she’s given me an idea.

I lean to the side and pull my cellphone out of my pocket and lift it between us. “What if I call her now and do it on speaker with you right here? I know it sounds shitty but I want you to hear it for yourself. I can prove it to you right now and here. I mean it when I say I’m breaking it off. She and I should have called it quits some time ago.”

She furrows her brow and cocks her head as she looks directly into my eyes, “Are you serious? Like, you’d call her right now and just end it? Are you just doing this so you can get in my pants?”

I vehemently shake my head, “No! Oh god… never. I genuinely had already planned on breaking up with her before I even met you. I took her key to my flat the night before I left London even, as a sort gesture to her. That’s when I decided. I just hadn’t gotten around to it because there was no rush. Then I met you yesterday. I mean, you and I just met yesterday. I could have called her before seeing you, yes. That would have been ideal, but the truth is I didn’t even think of calling her. In my mind I’m already done with her, moved on. It’s been that way for some time actually. I know she feels the same. Here, I’m serious,” I unlock my phone and pull up the contact for Lindsay and then look back to Camille, “I’ll call her right now. Is that okay with you?”

She hums and looks away from me for a moment, as if she needs to consider everything first. She stands up from the couch and paces around the room, squats down to pet Barry and then looks at me from her crouched position and nods, “Okay. If you want to. I mean, this is your relationship so if you want to break it off with her right at this very moment, I can’t stop you.” She stands up and walks back to the couch, gently sitting down and looking at the phone in my hand, “Lindsay. That’s her name. Look, if you want to call her then do it.” She wraps her arms around the front of her own body and leans back into the cushion behind her, keeping her eyes on my phone.

I click the button to call her and hit the speaker option. It’s 6 hours ahead, which means it’s about 8:30 in the evening. I watch Camille as the monotone sound of the ringtone begins crackling through the space between us. It rings about four times before I hear Lindsay’s voice on the other end, “Hello?”

Camille sits up straight at the sound of Lindsay’s voice and she keeps her eyes on the phone between us.

“Hey, Linds. What are you up to tonight?” I keep it casual at first. Feeling like I should at least greet her before getting right into it.

“What the fuck do you care, Harry? Enjoying New York City?” She sighs into the receiver and I roll my eyes. It’s always this way with her.

“Just wondering. And yes, I have been enjoying New York City quite well. I’m planning on purchasing a flat here next week. So, I’ll be in New York City quite a lot going forward.” I lift my eyes to look at Camille and she’s already looking at me, her arms down by her side, palms flat on the couch on either side of her thighs.

“Wonderful. That means I won’t have to put up with your shit as often.” Lindsay laughs before adding, “Are you calling to break up with me now? Is that why you’re telling me this?”

I laugh out loud and realize that Lindsay could hear it but I don’t care much for her opinion anymore, “Actually, you’re spot on. You won’t have to put up with my shit anymore and yes, this is me calling to break it off with you. I think we’re terrible together and I know you agree. We should stop torturing ourselves with whatever this is we’re doing. It’s not working anymore.” I keep my eyes on the phone. My heart rate has increased as my nerves have peaked. I’m glad to be doing this but confrontation is hard.

Lindsay laughs coldly and pauses for a bit, “You’re such a coward doing this over the phone while you’re in another country. Fucking pussy. You always have been, though. Surprised you didn’t have your assistant call me to tell me.”

I scoff and shake my head, “I’ve never had anyone tell you anything on my behalf. And this is the first time I’ve broken up with you over the phone. Look, I’m telling you now because I’m ready to move on. I know you are too. I don’t see any reason to wait to tell you this until I return. I may not even have time to see you when I do get back to London because I’ll be spending most of my time in New York City while the new office gets up and running. So, this has to be done this way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but it’s over.” Camille still has her eyes on me. Her face neutral.

“Oh fuck off. You could have told me to my face. But you’re right. I’m ready to be done with you once and for all. Don’t call me again, and don’t you dare try and talk to me next time we’re forced to see each other at one of those fucking events again. Understood?”

I take a deep breath and drag my hands down my face, “Of course. That’s the goal. Have a good evening.” I hang up before she can get another word in. I keep my eyes on the phone but I can feel Camille’s eyes on me.

She places her hand over mine and that causes me to lift my head to look at her. Her soft smile is comforting. “Are you okay?” She asks gently.

I nod, “I’m fine. We’ve broken up like thirteen times so I have a lot of practice.” I laugh, “Anyway, so now you know it’s over. It’s a relief for me.”

Camille laughs and just at that moment her buzzer goes off. She hops up from the couch and lifts her index finger as she walks out of her front door to grab the food. I look down at Barry who’s got his head lifted and looking toward the door, waiting to watch for Camille to return.

When she comes back two minutes later with pizza in hand, she sees both me and Barry staring at the door as she enters. I get up to help her set up, still unsure if she wants me around, but offer help anyway.

“Do you want me to get plates or drinks or anything?” I question.

“Yeah! Plates are in the cabinet right above the section of open counter and I’ve got tea and sparkling water in the fridge. I’ll take a sparkling water.”

She gets out some fold out tables and sets them up at the couch as I pull down two plates and bring them to the living room. Then I grab two bottles of sparkling water from her fridge. I notice she hasn’t got much for food. I see eggs, mustard, a few plastic containers with probably some kind of leftover food, almond milk, butter, a glass pitcher of tea, a few more bottles of sparkling water, a few jars of salsa, a pack of corn tortillas, and her crisper drawer appears to be full but I don’t open it to find out what’s in it.

When I get back to the living room she’s got the pizza sitting on a side table and two trays in front of the couch with a plate on each. She grabs a slice for herself and looks at me as I sit, “Want me to get you a piece?”

“Sure. Thanks.” When she’s placed the pizza on my plate we both dig in. I was rather hungry. I chew into the pizza and realize this is excellent pizza. I’ve had New York pizza before but this is amazing. “Wow. This is really good. What’s the place called?”

Camille swallows the bite she had in her mouth and nods, “I know. It’s so good. The place is called Joe’s. They are always busy, it’s how you know it’s good.” She takes another bite and then washes it down with her sparkling water.

We eat in silence for a bit as Barry watches us very closely. He’s suddenly quite interested in us and I have a feeling it’s more to do with the food on our plates than our kind personalities.

“And, just so you know…” Camille begins, setting her piece of pizza down, turning to me, “I was totally going to have sex with you but now I think we should wait. You’ll have to take me out on a proper date first. You know, so I can determine whether or not you’re worth it.” She chuckles and smiles.

I breathe out a laugh and shake my head, “S’fine. I deserve that. I was really hoping to get lucky but I can wait.” I shrug as I take another bite.

“Whose to say I’ll want to do anything with you after the date, though? Could be a bust.” She says coyly, hiding the smirk that’s trying to break across her face.

“Baby, you’re going to want to at least take a ride. I promise you that. I may not be perfect, but my cunnilingus game is on point, and my dick is big so I can at-minimum please you in the sack. But, like I said, I’m fine to wait. We’re in no rush.” I turn back to my pizza and feel the heat of her gaze on me as I chew the buttery crust.

“Really? Sound quite sure of yourself, there Casanova. I have my doubts but that’s because men are always bullshitters. So, now that you’ve said that, IF I decide I like you enough to fuck, then you’re going to have to prove all of that to me. Talk is one thing. Show is another.”

I laugh at her and lean closer, putting my arm along the back of the couch, “I’ll not only prove it to you, I’ll make you fall in love with me. You’ll be begging me for more. Mark my words, darling. If you give me a chance, you’ll be getting the best dicking you’ve ever had in your whole life.”

Part 7

#harry fic #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #ceo harry

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veryberryjelly · 9 months

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🥐 - chocolate croissant ( send me some info about yourself (and a fandom if you wish ) i'll ship you with a character )

Hiya, so I’m a huge marauders fan! I love walking in the rain (without umbrellas) I love stormy days and I’m a huge animal person, like I literally have a whole army of pets. Um my favorite movie is The Breakfast Club, and I absolutely love Bender cuz he’s an angel🫶🏻 My big three are Scorpio Sun, Gemini moon, and Scorpio rising. I play the guitar for fun and I play Trombone for band, and I will admit I’m an absolute nerd, like I will walk around quoting anything from Lord of The Rings to Star Wars, but ofc I’m always a bigger sucker for Harry Potter. I paint a lot in my free time, and I like to draw portraits of mainly the marauders in my journal. I’m a big extrovert, like I see an interesting person and I’m immediately like ‘oh I like your braces, what’s ur favorite movie?’ My friends often call me random because I change the topic like constantly. I’d say I’m pretty sarcastic but uh who knows🤷‍♀️ oh and I’m not exactly sure what info I needed to tell you so sorry I’m advance, but I have long blonde hair (don’t judge, I swear I’m not stupid, mostly😭) I have blue eyes and I’d say I’m about average height, oh and my favorite muggle sport is baseball🫡 Anyways thanks for taking the time to read this whole book I wrote☝️ Love this celebration have a lovely day Thanks y’a!!

𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

i'm so sorry this took me so long !!

i ship you with ...

sirius black !!!

i think sirius gives total bender vibes anyway, very bold and not giving a fuck.

he will let you rant and rave about anything you want even if he doesn't know a thing about it! { but he will definitely look into it after you go on about it so he can have another thing to talk to you about. }

because sirius does quidditch, i feel like he would be very willing to learn about baseball as well. you at the bat and him fielding all by himself lmao

sirius would 100% model for your drawings

whether he knows it or not

sometimes he'll just sit there and look beautiful

and other times you'll actually get him to sit still for something just by saying you want to draw him.

he'd definitely have some of your drawings up on his wall by his bed or have one framed on his bedside table.

i think it is definitely canon that sirius plays guitar [ shhhh ] so imagine the two of you trying to play together.

omg. playing gimme gimme gimme with sirius on the guitar and the two of you always being told to bring out your guitars at the end of a party when everything is dying down for a little sing along and its the most adorable thing ever!!

i hope you liked it <3

#🥐 - jelly cafe event #·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black hc #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #marauders #marauders fic #marauders era

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goatakiart · 1 year

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Please don't forget me (Part 1)

(Mirage x Reader)

Arts by me ❤️

Warning! (Adult themes, triggering topics, blood, alcohol etc.)

Mc Design (for the fanfic arts)

It's my first fanfiction, I made it with love. Please enjoy! ^^

It’s been two years since she joined the “bloodsports”.

Two years of fighting and war, but also immaculate friendships.

There’s drama, relationships and bonds,but it’s still all part of a chaotic battlefield, in her head she kept trying to think “it’s just sports……….right?”.

She could get along with others easily, didn’t go too personal on her talks, but one guy did catch her eye constantly, Mirage. He was always alone, never got into any squads and still tried to be fun, everyone liked him, he was the star of the show. However if she asked about him not many talked about what’s going on, they avoided the topic, perhaps he didn’t want her to know about him.

She tried to become his squad more than once, she tried to talk to him a million times, either way he seemed nervous and avoided her at any cost.

She ended up giving up in some months. Maybe she bothered him with her presence, she thought. Also, she didn’t want to make him feel even more uncomfortable.

It’s been two years since she got into The Apex Games.

One day, she was walking around the area after finishing a tough battle.

She saw a bright place from far away, her curiosity sparks and she find herself walking towards it.

She is getting closer and closer. It took some time to reach a point where she could actually see more clear, “What the hell is that?”

Is it a ship? Why can she hear music?

She walks closer in caution, the evening sun is falling creating an orange shade on the bright ship, after much thought she decides to get in.

“Huh??” she sees a man, no, many men, wait no—- it’s the same person—-clones?

It’s Mirage. Drinking his ass off and dancing, by himself.

Mc is clearly still annoyed with his behavior from the previous years, but her curiosity gets the best of her again, still her greeting comes off as rude.

“Who in their right mind parties alone?”

It definitely came off as rude.

He seems shocked to see her and suddenly his easygoing behaviour goes away, again becoming nervous and that pisses mc off.

“O-oh hello, well I’m not alone you see!” He says as he hugs one of his clones by the back of their neck.

She raises an eyebrow, walking forward, he seemingly walks backwards but still offers her a drink.

“I don’t often get costumers.” he says with this stupid awkward stuttering “What would you l-like to drink? I got everything a woman might like, oh wait that sounds bad...” *he puts his palm on his forehead in embarrassment “Anyway I got all the drinks here, I mean this is a bar, why wouldn’t I? ” He chuckles nervously.

Her annoyance wears off little by little as she hears his silly little monologue trying not to laugh but a smile reveals it's way out. “I would like some Devil Springs Vodka then.” She says looking at him in the eye and smirking, a little mockingly I might add.

He blinks, leading up to a stare with his eyes wide open “Wow there! Maybe you should go for something less hardcore?”

She raises an eyebrow again, this time in amusement, she leans on the bar in front of him as he is on the bartender side. “Why? You suddenly care about my well-being?” He backs off flustered and looks away “I-I mean tomorrow we should fight, you wanna be hangover??” He pretends to be looking at the drinks. She laughs at his behaviour “Okay then, what my cute bartender would suggest for the night before the fight?” Mirage doesn’t turn to look at her, she notices his ears becoming red, he takes a little time to reply, however she doesn't break the silence immediately while she's watching in amusement “I’ll have a glass of wine of your choice then.” She rests her cheek on her palm, waiting for a reaction.

“Wine, yes, okay, that’s fine.” he replies after some time in panic looking for the bottle, he brings up a bottle of Chateau Lafite 1787.

She can’t mock him this time, he definitely knows his drinks.

“Where did you find this, Mirage??” she's shocked he brings up one of the most luxurious wines there is. He relaxes a little as he poors some of the wine on a glass for her and then for him “I’m broke for a reason."

They look at each other, trying to hold it in, but they end up both laughing at the same time. “Well that’s certainly a good reason to be broke. However, I think you should blame that huge ship of yours!” She exclaims, still laughing as she's also pointing on Mirage's huge painting of himself. He doesn't reply but gives her a warm smile, she can’t help but feel a little tickly inside, he's raising his glass giving her the hint to clink their glasses together, she raises her glass too. “Cheers!” They both say, and they start drinking as the colors of the evening fade, the night falls, and the ship becomes brighter than ever.

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ambermation · 2 years

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Hii, hun!

Can you do one where the reader’s basically like Harry’s stepmom or smth like that and then Norman just watches the two of them bonding 🥺

Hi! this sounds so adorable :D I think maybe we could all use some stepmom content, don't you?

You’re my Son, Too (Platonic Harry Osborn x Stepmom!Reader)

A/n from the future: I'm so sorry this took so long! I've been stuck writing this for months because I couldn't get it the way I wanted it to be. I felt bad for how long it was taking, so I tried just writing it in a simple way. I hope you'll still like this!

My relationship to my stepson was… fairly neutral, to be honest. It’s not like I didn’t want to form a relationship with him, honestly, I do! It’s just a little weird between us. I’m nice to him and Harry is nice to me. But I could feel that he was mostly being coldly polite to me. Every time we talk he always gives vague, generic, or incredibly simplistic responses. And our conversations were always as short as they possibly could be.

But I want to change things. He’s a good son who wants his father to be happy, which I respect. We’re family. I’m hoping we can become closer than this business-like relationship we currently have. I’m not sure how to start. We might have the same interests? Though it was hard to tell if we did.

There had to be something I could try talking about with him. Maybe video games? I know that he and his friend Peter often play their games when they hang out. I like playing them too. I’m not sure what games they play however. We could be playing completely different games. For a while I debated whether or not I should just ask Harry what games he enjoys or if I should look in his room. I reach the conclusion that I should just ask him when I get the chance. Invading his personal space also wouldn’t really improve our relationship either. So that’s what I set out to do. Next time I see Harry I'll ask him.

That shouldn’t be too hard, now, right?

—-

It certainly was a hard thing to do. I barely saw Harry anyways, when I wasn’t trying to talk to him, since he was always either hanging out with friends, out at his classes, or just kind of avoiding staying at home for long. It certainly felt like he was doing that just to avoid me, but I knew it was him avoiding Norman and me. They don’t have the closest relationship either, though Norman is trying, especially with my encouragement. Their relationship is certainly better than ours, but that’s like saying that a pile of dirt is better than a pile of mud.

“It shouldn’t be that hard to talk to him. Just talk to him like I would with any of my friends,” I think to myself as I grab a cup of water. As I turn around I collide with something solid, spilling my water all over the place. I look up and see none other than Harry himself. He looks rather annoyed, but more so at the fact water was spilt all over his shirt rather than at me. Although I think he might be a bit annoyed with me as well.

“And there goes my new shirt.” He says, voice laced with disappointment as he inspects the material.

“I’m so sorry, Harry! I didn’t see you and I didn’t think you’d be home right now.” That was true. I thought he had class right now. “Well I’m here. Right now, with water all over me.” He’s about to push past me when I stop him, paper towels in hand.

“Can you really blame me for not knowing? You never really talk to me. I can’t really know your schedule if you don’t share it with me.” I say as I look for the nearest real towel to use. I needed to make this conversation become positive. Fast. Before he leaves. “I tell my father my schedule. Doesn’t he tell you?” He asks. He throws away the soaked paper towels. He turns and looks at me. His expression is still annoyed, yet there’s a mix of curiosity there. I shake my head.

“No, not really,” I lean against the counter, “He usually just tells me what the two of you do, and how he’s glad you seem to be doing well,”

Harry sighs. I guess he really thought his dad told me. I don’t think even Norman fully remembers Harry’s schedule. “Of course he didn’t. Go figure,” he huffs. He turns his attention to the fridge, looking inside to find something. Okay, gotta steer this conversation now.

“But I’d love to know your schedule, Harry. Just tell me what it is and I'll remember.” I’ll certainly do my best to remember it, at least. I’m inevitably gonna forget a few things. His eyes cast over to me briefly, considering my words, before looking back into the fridge. “I mean it. I can’t say that I’ll always remember your schedule exactly, but I’ll try to remember most of it, if you’ll share it with me.” I smile reassuringly at him. He finally grabs a soda from the fridge. He turns to me. For a moment he stares before returning my smile. A genuine smile. I notice that his shirt is still soaked from my water. “I’m really sorry about the water. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Harry dismisses that with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t paying attention either,” he gives me another smile. “I, uh, guess I’ll try telling you and dad what I’m up to, alright?” He starts heading toward the exit.

“Wait!” I say, reaching out. He stops and looks at me, an eyebrow raised. “I was thinking that we could try spending some time together, if you’re not busy?” He contemplates his answer for a moment.

“I mean, I’m not doing anything right now. I was just watching TV. You could join me if you want?”

“I was actually wondering if we could play some video games together.”

“Sure. I’ve got a few you might like.”

Happy I managed to get on better terms with Harry, I eagerly followed him to his room. We head inside the messy room. At least it was mostly clothes, papers, and books thrown about the place instead of trash. The mess bothers me a little, but I ignore it. It’s not a big deal anyways. I sit down on the bed as Harry sets up his Playstation 2.

“What game do you want to play?” He shows me the games he has. I haven’t played any of them, so I let Harry pick. “Whichever one you like the best, Harry.” He smiles before picking one of the games. “Have you ever played this one before?” I shake my head. I grab the other controller as Harry joins me on the bed. His grin turns mischievous.

“Oh no. I don’t like that look,” he laughs in response.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure. And I’m the Queen of England.”

—----

(Third Person POV)

A few hours later, after a long day at work, Norman returns home. He sighed; today was a stressful day. And tomorrow was sure to be just as, if not more, stressful. All he wanted to do was just take a nice hot bath, change into his silk robes, and collapse into bed, his wife in his arms.

He smiled as he thought of his wife. She always brightened his mood no matter how bad she was feeling. Norman walked out of the elevator and into his penthouse, wondering where Y/N could be. He walked by the study she likes to work in, but he saw there was nobody inside. He didn’t hear anything in the kitchen either. He figured he’d see his wife in their shared bedroom instead. As he walked down the hallway he heard excited yelling coming from his son’s room. Curious, Norman pushes the door open wider to find Y/N and Harry playing on the latter’s console.

The two kept shouting as they played, clearly trying to beat the other at whatever game they were playing. The sight made Norman smile. While his relationship with his son has been improving significantly, the relationship between Y/N and Harry seemed to be stuck at neutrality. This was a step in the right direction. The two most important people in Norman’s life bonding. He couldn’t help the elated grin across his countenance. It dropped for a moment when the two shouted once more.

“Yes!”

“No!”

Harry, in his victory, threw his hands up in the air. Meanwhile, Y/N crossed his arms and pouted for a moment before laughing. “You picked that game because you knew you’d win, didn’t you Harry?” She asks in a teasing voice. Harry laughs. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just really bad,” he turns to give her a smirk when he sees his father in the doorway. His eyes widened in surprise briefly before smiling.

“Hey, dad.” Y/N turns to face her husband. She gives a small wave. “How long were you standing there?” Harry asks.

Norman gives them a smile. “Enough to see your victory, Harry. Congrats!” Y/N shakes her head. “No I’m pretty sure he cheated, so technically I won,” she playfully nudges the college student.

“Is it really cheating if you’re playing against a bad player?”

“Aw c’mon, I wasn’t that bad!” She pouts once more.

Harry chuckles. “The score begs to differ,” he gestures to the TV. And sure enough, the trio could see that Player 1 was leagues ahead of Player 2. The completely different scores made Norman laugh. Blushing, Y/N grabbed Harry’s controller and handed it back to him.

“Then how about a rematch?”

“You’re on!”

Y/N turns to Norman as Harry sets the game up. “Honey, do you want to be the referee? You know, to make sure somebody,” she points at Harry, “doesn’t cheat?” Harry rolls his eyes at his stepmom, but the smile on his face gives away how he truly feels. Norman steps into the room and joins the two on his son’s bed.

“Of course, love.”

#norman osborn x reader #harry osborn & reader #harry osborn #norman osborn #raimi trilogy #x reader #marvel #spider-man #spiderman raimi #spider man trilogy #platonic!harry osborn x reader #stepmom!reader #you're my son too

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