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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

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The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning.

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing.

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job, ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office.

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention.

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe.

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play.

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square.

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code.

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles.

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms.

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob.

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads.

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

“He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.”

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him.

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor.

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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lilacmeadows · 3 years

Text

Made For You pt.1

Okay so this is gonna be a series. My FIRST series. So go easy on me pretty please. I’ve never written smut, and I know nobody wants badly written smut. So we’ll see about that. But this one is definitely gonna be more of a slow burn. Maybe 4 chapters? Yeah. I like that. 4 chapters. I’ve just been thinking about this idea for a while and I wanna get into writing. I hope someone likes this.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (coming soon)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2k

PART ONE

She’s so used to quiet in her quaint bedroom. The faint whirring of the air conditioner, sounds of footsteps and machinery being rolled outside her door, the music they would play for her when she was extra good that week.

So when she was awoken to gunshots and yelling, y/n was anxious and didn’t know what to do. She backed into the corner of the room furthest from the door and shut her eyes. Hopefully, if she stayed quiet and unseen, things would resolve itself, and she wouldn’t see any violence come her way.

Luckily for her, after what felt like hours later, the sounds quieted down. The gunshots were less frequent and finally came to a stop. She waited for a few moments before sitting on her bed with intentions of continuing her knitting. She wasn’t allowed many activities, but this was one luxury the Men didn’t mind since she hadn’t had any violent outbursts in a long time. She hated being shocked, and she liked knitting.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Minutes later, she could hear footsteps approaching her room. Too late to go back into her corner without being heard through the ‘doggie door’ the Men used to pass her food twice a day, she sat still and slowed her breathing.

‘Anything on that floor?’ She heard one male voice say from further away.

‘Not yet. Mostly supply closets on this floor, but I’ll check them all.’ Said a voice from much closer. He couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from her door. She could tell they were American like her because they didn’t have the funny accents the Men all had. Gripping her plastic knitting needles tightly in one hand she braced herself for the intrusion.

Her door cracked open a little, then quickly opened all the way.

“Cap, you need to see this.” The man called over his shoulder. “Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sir.” Her small voice replied, a little rough from lack of use, but still remarkably sweet.

“Who are you? Do you know where you are?” He approached her slowly, taking in her meager appearance, but also watching out for the pointy sticks she has a death grip on.

“My name is y/n. I’m in my room.” She replied. Starting to feel very uneasy by this stranger, but also not thinking that he would hurt him. She had been here for so long, it was strange seeing a tall, black man enter her bedroom. Only trainers and watchers were allowed to enter her bedroom.

“What is it?” Another, taller man asked, but his question was soon answered when his eyes landed on the girl sitting on her bed with her tucked gently under her. He immediately noticed her lack of decent clothing, and it caused a blush to creep up his neck.

“We have a girl here, possibly a hostage, maybe an experiment. She doesn’t look like she particularly wants to be rescued.” The first man said to the other, who’s slowly entering the room while trying not to stare at her thin, flimsy, cotton dress.

“Hi, I’m Steve, this is Sam. Do you know where you’re from?” The blonde man said to her while crouching down to be at her eye level. She nodded her head yes. “Well we’re the good guys. We’re here to save you. Do you want to come with us so we can take you home?”

She had to contemplate for a minute. It had been so long since she got here that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave. These men looked sincere, but she knew if she left and was caught, she’d be punished terribly. But if the gunshots meant anything, there would be nobody to punish her. Which means she can’t stay regardless because there would be nobody to take care of her either.

“Did you kill my watchers?” She looked at the blond man after a few quiet seconds. Steve and Sam made eye contact and had a whole argument in silence before Sam spoke up.

‘Yes, we did. But they were bad men. They were keeping you here. But you’re free now. You just gotta follow us, and we’ll get you out of here.’ Sam said, gently. Not wanting her to think they’re cold blooded murderers, but also trying to rush this meeting along so they can board the quinjet, where the rest of the team was waiting.

Steve held one of his hands out to her, which she hesitantly took- knitting needles and purple ball of yarn in her other hand. She thought about grabbing her sweaters, but they weren’t kept in her room. Quite frankly, she had no idea where they were. The Men didn’t allow her to keep the things she learned to knit in her room. But they would give her back a sweater during the cold months. So she just followed the two men awkwardly. Them taking large, hard steps towards parts of the building she had never seen, and her dainty footsteps lagging behind. The trainers taught her to walk with a ladylike gait, on the balls of her feet with barely any pressure to her heels.

After many hallways and stairwells, they found themselves outside the building. The quinjet was parked close by, and y/n’s eyes almost jumped out of her head. Of course she had never seen anything like that before. The men led her onto the loading area which closed behind them.

“Take a break for sightseeing?” Said one man from the front of the jet. They couldn’t see her because of her small stature behind the two men.

“Actually, we found someone. Her name is y/n. She was in one of the rooms, top floor.” Steve said to the man, while fishing you out from behind his back.

She was met with eyes. Many pairs of eyes. All looking directly at her. Not used to all the attention, she looked down at her feet, which were bare as usual and slightly irritated from walking on various terrains. Her toes painted baby pink. Another luxury the Men allowed her. Some watchers were nicer than others. The shorter, fat one that came every other night would bring her a light, barely noticeable, polish that she was only allowed to put on her toes.

Being there wasn’t so terrible. She was 10 when they took her in 2006. She had a mom and older brother, and they lived in a town in Georgia. She often wonders what happened to them that morning when the Men put a rag over her face, and she woke up on a bed in the room that would become her new bedroom.

She didn’t leave the room often. There was a small bathroom across the hall from her room. The watcher would be standing guard outside her door, and she would let him know she would like to use the bathroom or bathe. He would have to stand in the room with her while she bathed, but after a while, they were kind enough to face the wall. She fought for a long time. Refusing to eat the food (which wasn’t terrible), screaming and crying, she even plotted the occasional failed attack. But then they started the shock therapy, and she learned. Being in that chair was brutal. Rewiring her brain into submission. Submission to the Men so they could train her. She had to be ready for the Soldat when he needed her. Why her? She didn’t ask and they didn’t tell her. She learned very quickly that she was only allowed to speak when spoken to.

Make the Soldat happy. That was her mission. She had been told that phrase so many times that she heard it in her sleep. She had never seen or met him, but she was being trained to be his. A possession he could have control over during the brief times he was unfrozen. She was to listen to him, obey, sleep with him, and just make him happy because the mind controlling words were having less and less of an effect, and the Men were afraid he would lash out and massacre them all.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll be fulfilling her life goal after all because now she’s in the air with a group of people looking at her like she has two heads. A woman with pretty red hair, a man with a large bow, and a man with nice glasses towards the front of the jet, were on one side. On the other was a blond man with very long hair, standing up to talk to a man in a purple shirt, and a man sitting by himself with long brown hair. All of their stares were pointed at her, but his seemed to go through her. Like he had x-ray vision and could read her mind.

“Y/n, you can have a seat right there.” Sam said, pointing to an empty seat next to the redhead who only squinted at her. “That’s Natasha. She’s nicer than she looks.”

“No, I’m not.” She said, making eye contact with y/n. “But we’re glad to have you aboard.” Natasha finished, the slightest smile forming at the girl.

“Um... Cap, where are her clothes?” The man from before asked Steve.

“I don’t know. This is what she was wearing, and I didn’t see a wardrobe anywhere, Tony.” Steve sighed, obviously exasperated by even the thought of a conversation with Tony.

Tony looked at the girl expectantly. Was he waiting for her to chime in? Because he’d be waiting a long time. She was trained very well. Talking out of turn was one of the first rules she learned.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want something to cover up? We have blankets. What about water? You thirsty? Does she even understand a word I’m saying?” Tony’s last question was aimed at the men she entered with.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I’m alright, sir.” And if the team was trying to keep their staring inconspicuous at first, they completely abandoned that when she spoke. Her voice was so small and smooth. Just a little weak from not talking much.

“How about we get you a blanket anyway so I can be a little more comfortable” He nodded towards Sam who left the room and returned with a large blanket. She hadn’t realized how cold she was or that her nipples were pointing through her thin dress. Or that the cotton dress was really just a white slip that was damn near see through.

Maybe the grumpy looking man on the other side of the jet does have x-ray vision.

“Thank you, sir.” Everyone had to be called Sir. She hadn’t been around any women, but she was pretty sure if they looked as serious as the one next to her, she’d call them Ma’am.

“Tony is fine.” He smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Clint, by the way.” The man on Natasha’s other side said, turning his body to address her. “So, umm... What were you doing up there? Are you working for Hydra?” Other members of the team groaned and scolded him for being so blunt, even though they were secretly happy he asked because they also wanted to know.

“I was knitting.” She said simply. She was going to leave it at that, but she could see the way Clint’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at her short reply. So she continued with the mantra she was raised with. “My purpose is to make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

She had never seen a room of people’s heads turn so fast. Eyes darting from her to the brooding man on the other side of the jet. He squinted his eyes, looking equally as confused.

She hadn’t realized that her mission was right in front of her.

part 2

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #the avengers #steve rodgers smut #thor smut #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #chubby!bucky #winter solider x reader #winter soldier smut

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mikkomacko · 3 years

Text

Sweet As Honey 18

Hello everyone! Here she is! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and this chapter. I hope it lives up to the hype and the wait lol. I'd also like to say that I will still be writing and finishing this series as well as my other in progress ones. However, I'm currently feeling like I'm not that interested in Harry right now and I feel like it's mostly all the drama and everything going on with him right now so updates will be slow. Also I've changed my theme to a Marvel x One Direction theme because I've decided to take one of my Bucky Barnes plot and actually publish it. I'll still post Harry because of course I love him but he won't be the main focus of this blog anymore.

Thanks for waiting and reading. Hope you enjoy the chapter! X

Harry's good under pressure. At least looking from the outside in, he is. It's a skills he's picked up from boxing. Always pretend you know what's going on. No surprises, no shocks. If he's in a fight and his opponent is stronger or faster than he originally thought, he doesn't show it. Acting like it was expected, like he planned it rattles others and helps him maintain his grace.

He keeps that same approach when it comes to interviews.

Liam meets him outside the gym, waving with a bright smile that Harry just smiles at, shocked to find his trainer in the parking garage rather than the ring.

"What's going on mate?" Harry greets, trying to step around him to get to the stairs but Liam halts him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Gotta reporter here who wants to chat with you about recovering from your concussion and reaching the finals."

His tone is laced with hesitance, lips pursed in suppressed grimace and Harry doesn't blame him. Liam knows how much Harry hates interviews. They're his least favorite part of the job. He's here to box and get paid, to provide for his family, not to tell the world every detail of his life.

"Oh," Harry mumbles, shrugging and stepping up to the door. "Alright. Only for a few minutes though, wanna get home a little early today."

If Liam is surprised by Harry's ease he doesn't show it. "Got something going on?"

Harry follows Liam inside, nodding to Mark at the front desk. "Y/n has just been exhausted lately and Arlo can't spend a second alone without screaming bloody murder. Just want to be there to make sure she's resting and Arlo's not being a pest."

"He's your son, of course he's being in a pest."

The comment leaves too much pride in Harry's chest for him to even care that Liam just insisted he himself is a pest. Besides, Harry knows he's clingy and a little too attached but that's just how his relationship with y/n is, and they love it.

In his private locker room,Harry finds the reporter, a young girl who can't be too far out of undergrad with dark hair and a bright red lips. She's sat on the bench, a notepad on her thigh and her phone resting next to it.

"Hello Mr. Styles." She greets, shaking his hand when he approaches her. "I'm Rebecca Weese."

Harry takes a seat next to her, nodding. "Nice to meet you. I don't have a lot of time today but I can answer a few of your questions if we can make it quick." He smiles guiltily, hoping to not come off as rude.

She nods, immediately glancing down at her notepad and crossing some things out. Harry assumes they're questions she's decided aren't important enough. "Is it ok if I record this? Just sound of course."

Again, he nods, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie as he waits for her to begin. Tapping at her phone, she places it between them to catch both voices and then scans her notes again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you've only been boxing for a few years, right?"

Harry shrugs. "I trained a lot when I was teenager, worked under Ted until he decided to bring me up to the pros. Was about 20 I think when that happened." He tries to stay vague, knowing he can't tell the public that his "training" was an illegal boxing ring.

"Five-Six years is a short amount of time to be included in a tournament like this one. Most contenders are well into their careers before being qualified to participate. What do you think has been the main factor in your success?"

Routine question, and he's got a routine answer. "I was fortunate enough to figure out early on that boxing is what I wanted to do and I think that helped out a lot. I also got a very good team behind me. My trainer, manager, my wife, they're all the main factors in my success. I'm very grateful to have them."

Rebecca smiles a bit, jotting down a few words. "Does your wife work in the industry?"

It's her casual tone, as if she were a friend just wanting to hear him brag about his lover that has him answering so honestly.

"No she works in design but I met her early in my career and she's always supported me. Takes care of me after bad matches and whatnot, always comes to my fights even if it means being on her feet for hours. Which isn't exactly her favorite thing at the moment with the baby-"

Harry stops, eyes widening a bit at what he's just revealed. Part of him wishes desperately that Rebecca didn't hear him but he knows that's impossible.

"I didn't know you're a father," she says kindly, sensing his panic. "Do you want to talk about it more or should I scratch that part?"

He doesn't know what makes him say it. A year ago he'd have fled the room if he were questioned about his family. Harry likes to keep them separate, to keep his kids away from his boxing. It's possibly a small part of him that's conditioned to keep his work a secret from his family even if he doesn't have to. But Rebecca's offer to drop the whole topic is what breaks him.

"S'ok," he says "I've got a son that's about a year old and another on the way."

Her eyes light up, beaming at him and he grins shyly but somehow proudly at the same time. "That's awesome. Congrats. I know your son's young but does he have any part in your career? Influence maybe?"

"He doesn't watch any of my fights or anything. Too young to be around violence like that but he does affect my fighting in a way. I used to go into boxing with just the mentality that I'm doing something I love, but now I've got the added success. A win means more support for my family and I want them to always have what they need so I've got sort of an edge there."

"Like having something to fight for?" She confirms, and Harry nods immediately.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for them and I think that makes me a bit dangerous in the ring."

No matter what, he'll always be fighting for them. Everything he does is for y/n and his boys.

The house smalls of tomato sauce and pasta when Harry walks in, mouth instantly watering and stomach rumbling. He had a light breakfast this morning before going to the gym and now that's he burnt off all that energy he reckons he could eat a horse. Dropping his keys on the table in the entryway, toeing off his sneakers, and dropping his gym bag to the floor, Harry makes a beeline for the kitchen. He's so caught up in wanting to eat he doesn't notice the TV playing a Disney movie or the two figures sprawled out on the couch until one of them is calling for him.

"Daddy!" Arlo's head pops up over the cushions, dimples sunk into his cheeks and eyes bright. Harry immediately changes course, coming up behind the couch and meeting Arlo's outstretched arms.

"'Ello bug," Harry greets, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Arlo coos happily, curling up against Harry's shoulder. Y/n is watching them with a small smile, a hand resting easily over the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt she's wearing. "And hello darling." He leans over the back of the couch to press a crooked kiss to her lips.

"Hi baby," she sits up, smiling dreamily at him. "How was the gym?"

Harry shrugs, adjusting Arlo on his hip. "Was good. I had an interview today about finals and....stuff." Her eyebrow quirks up at his hesitancy to continue.

"What stuff?"

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Harry drops his gaze to Arlo. "You, Arlo, the baby." She doesn't respond immediately and he knows it’s because she’s trying to analyze him. He's fairly private about his family, especially his children and the only reason he'd informed the world of Arlo was to get people off his back about leaving y/n, so he knows she's probably confused by his ease with talking about the new baby.

"How'd it go?" She asks, pushing herself up from the couch with a hand on her belly. Without hesitation Harry reaches out to place his free hand over hers, moving her with him towards the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"M'starving darling," he says and his stomach grumbles in agreement, making Arlo gurgling back and nudge his foot into Harry's tummy. "But interview went well. Announced the pregnancy."

"You did?" She questions, perching herself on the counter stool with wide eyes. "Seems a bit early compared to Arlo's announcement."

Managing as best he can with one free hand, Harry retrieves a bowl from the cabinet and serves himself a heaping mountain of spaghetti. "Just came out if m'being honest," he shrugs, settling into the stool next to her with Arlo still glued to his lap. "'sides it's different this time. He was my first baby and I was scared."

He doesn't realize that she's fallen silent until he's slurping back noodles and she doesn't scold him. Curiously, Harry rotates just enough to look at her. Y/n is staring at him, eyes big and moony when he mumbles a suspicious "wha'?"

"You were scared?"

Swallowing down his food, he nods. Her intent gaze brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to drop his eyes to peer down at Arlo. "Y-yeah. Didn't know if he'd like me as his dad, ya know?"

Harry's never said those words out loud, now that he's come to think of it. Whenever something's pertained to Arlo, Harry was always the positive reinforcement, the one reassuring y/n about them stepping into parenthood. He never really told her how much it scared him because he didn't want to scare her.

"I-I didn't know that," she mumbles. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugs, lifting his gaze from Arlo to y/n. "Because I wanted to be a good dad. Ya know, like the kind that can kill spiders and scare aware bad dreams.....Just wanted to be strong I guess."

He doesn't say it, but he knows she's picked up the fear he won't acknowledge. He doesn't want to be his dad. His father was great but the sad thing is, everything great about him was brought out by alcohol. Des needed that poison to combat his own fears and insecurities, and Harry doesn't want to be like that too. He doesn't want to leave his kids the same way he was left.

"Being scared doesn't make you weak Harry."

She leans over to press a tender kiss to his jaw, belly brushing against his side, and he thinks about those words for the remainder of the day.

Crouched down, Harry steers the shopping cart with one hand and guides Arlo along with the other one. By the way he's trudging along, Harry knows Arlo is getting tired of walking. It's good for him to practice though, so Harry leads him along for another few minutes before scooping him up in one arm.

"Did so well bug." Harry compliments, pecking Arlo's cheek. The toddler curls up into his chest, yawning. It's a bit difficult steering the cart with one hand but Harry manages, steadily making his way up and down each aisle. He gets baby cereal for Arlo, a couple bags of puffy hot Cheetos to stash in the cabinets, and he's stocking up on y/n's latest craving (spaghetti-o's and meatballs) when a familiar face rounds the corner.

Zayn is pushing a cart filled groceries, eyes scanning up and down the shelves and Harry curses under his breath. The last person he wants to see right now is Zayn. Last time they had a run in he said something that bothered y/n and Harry never wants anything to bother his girl.

In an attempt to hide, Harry pulls his hood up over his head, shrinking into his pullover and craning his neck to not make eye contact with his old friend. Grabbing a few cans of the fake pasta y/n is living off of, Harry sets them in the cart and quickly walks down the aisle. A man who looks a few years older than Harry moves towards him, stepping around Zayn and in front of Harry's cart.

"Excuse me," the man stops him, gaze dropping to the boy against his chest for half a second before regretfully meeting Harry's eyes. "m'so sorry to bother, didn't notice the little one-"

"It's fine." Harry cuts off, glancing at Zayn to make sure his back is still to them. It is and Harry relaxes a bit at that, but his curiosity grows. "How can I help you sir?"

The man smiles, grateful. "I just wanted to tell you that m'son and I are big fans and we're excited for your fight this weekend."

Harry knows he has fans, he's run into a few around the city but they're usually teens and kids that want an autograph. He's never had a grown man approach him about his career and it's odd. Flattering, but odd.

"Thanks man. I really appreciate your support." Harry says sincerely, smiling. The man nods in response, taking a step away from Harry. He moves to leave but stops last minute, turning back to Harry.

"Congrats on the baby news too." He says quickly, almost shy or embarrassed. Before Harry can even thank him, the man is rushing out a "have a good day" and then he's moving down the aisle.

Confused, Harry stands there for a moment trying to figure out what happened. He knew announcing the new baby would bring more attention to him in the media and he's not surprised that that man, who's clearly a fan, had already heard it. He is surprised that the man seemed almost scared to admit to Harry that he knows.

"Harry?"

Fuck.

He looks up, meeting the golden eyes that could only belong to Zayn. Harry doesn't even bother trying to smile at his old friend as he stands in front of Harry's cart. A lady maneuvers around them, murmuring a soft "excuse me sir." Harry scoots his cart over, smiling apologetically.

"How have you been man?"

Harry's gaze returns to it's impassive expression, glancing over Zayn's too-bright presence. "I've been good." Harry responds, moving Arlo to his other arm when he starts to lose feeling in his fingers. The movement draws Arlo out of his nap-like state, the toddler now noticing Zayn standing in front of them. Immediately his face scrunches into a look of annoyance.

If Zayn notices, he must not care because he smiles at Arlo, teeth dazzling. "That's good to hear. Congratulations on the baby, by the way! Saw the article up front. S'amazing!"

Article? Harry lips are just starting to form his question when his phone rings, the tune specific to y/n. "Sorry, gotta take this." Harry says in Zayn's direction, digging into his pocket and retrieving his phone. He hits answer before Zayn can even respond.

"Hi darling."

Harry wiggles Arlo into the basket. "Hi H. You still at the store?"

He pushes the cart down the aisle, not caring that he's left his old friend hanging. "Yeah I am. What's up"

The sound of a running faucet comes through the speaker. "Forgot to add yogurt bites to the list. Arlo ate the last of 'em last night and ya know how he is if he doesn't have any before bed."

Harry snorts, steering towards the baby food aisle. Arlo has fallen in love with yogurt bites and they've become his snack before bed. Harry thinks he shouldn't be having them every night and he'd tried to tell Arlo that two nights ago, but Arlo is a stubborn thing. He screamed his head off, ignored Harry's attempts at giving him fresh fruit instead, and then only calmed down after y/n nursed him.

"I'll grab 'em darling. No worries." He assures, tossing a couple bags of the bites into the cart. "Anything else?"

"Do we still have the old flower vases from our wedding in the garage?" She asks.

"Umm, I think so. You expecting flowers from a secret lover or something?" Harry jokes, eyes catching on a pack of bibs hanging in the aisle.

"Not unless you've got a trick up your sleeve Styles." She retorts.

He tosses a pack into the basket. "Buy you a whole flower shop if that's what ya want darling." Arlo grumbles from the baby seat of the cart, tiny fingers coming up to play with the rings on Harry's fingers that are locked around the steering bar.

"Don't worry about that, we've got enough flowers." Y/n laughs and he can hear her moving around the house. "Three bouquets just arrived with congratulations cards."

"What?"

"Guess the baby announcement was well accepted." She says. "We're getting lots of flowers for it."

Pushing towards the checkout, Harry frowns in confusion. "Got stopped by a fan today for the same thing. Can't believe it's such a big deal."

"Well you're more known now than when we were having Arlo." She reasons, and Harry hums his agreement. He passes the self checkouts, freezing when he spots numerous copies of his face on the ends of the aisle.

"Holy shit," he breathes, not even thinking about the innocent ears before him. Y/n gasps through the phone, scolding him for his language. "Sorry darling, s'just I'm bloody plastered all over the grocery store."

He reads over the cover of the sports magazine. It's got a big photo of him in the ring, gloves held up to his chin and jaw tight around his mouth guard. Next to it is a photo of him and y/n leaving a big fight awhile back. She's got her head down, hand snug in his as he leads her along. And written in bold yellows is "Harry Styles Expecting Baby #2 As He Prepares for Biggest Fight Yet!"

"They put me on the front page." He tells her, not bothering to flip open the article before he's quickly moving away from the display. "Why would they do that?"

When he did that interview, he thought it'd be a small, breezy section in the magazine. If he had known he'd be getting stopped in the grocery store and flowers sent to his house he wouldn't have said anything. As previously mentioned, he's a private guy, so having this detail projected in a way he wasn't warned about makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"It's alright Harry," y/n says reassuringly, knowing that he's become anxious at the publicity. "No harm done. It's just flowers bub and as long as we've got those vases in the garage, everyone will survive."

He chuckle weakly at her joke, picking an aisle so he can quickly checkout and go home. "Don't go digging around for them by yourself, don't need ya falling and getting hurt. I'll help ya when I get home."

"Aw my hero." She coos, and he knows she's teasing but it still makes him blush. God he loves her.

"Those bloody things are making my nose itch." Harry grumbles, aggressively rubbing the palm of his hand into his burning nostrils. He glares at the bouquet of peonies on the dresser, a gift from y/n's co-workers, and moves towards the bed.

Y/n is propped up against the headboard, a pair of his pajama bottoms on her legs but her shirt has been abandoned on the carpet by the bed. Arlo is attached to her hip, mouth latched to her nipple and she's stroking through his soft hair while he breastfeeds. Harry's heart throbs in his chest, warmed by the sight of his wife coddling their baby, and he's so fucking in love with her he's anxious to get Arlo into bed so he can have his way with her.

"I can't just throw them out, H." She sighs, pulling her gaze from the television to his pouty face. He huffs, running the damp towel in his hand through his hair one last time before haphazardly tossing it towards the closet. Kneeing his way up the bed, he curls into y/n's side and smiles when she tucks her arm around him.

"Stroke my hair too?" He mumbles, peering up with puppy eyes and she giggles before threading her fingers through his hair too. Arlo gurgles around a mouthful, bright green eyes opening to look at Harry. He worries for a moment that Arlo is going to get fussy and kick him away, but the toddler just blinks at him sleepily.

"Tha's ma boy." He coos fondly, squirming a hand over to pat Arlo's full tummy. Y/n giggles and continues to stroke his hair, Harry watching Arlo slowly be soothed to sleep. "Lemme get him to bed darling."

Grunting, he pushes himself up from the mattress and too his feet. Y/n transfers Arlo to his awaiting arms, swiping at the milk that dribbled out of his snoring lips and onto her skin. Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Wanna have a shag when I get back?"

A shocked laugh bursts out of her, Harry's face lighting up at the sound as his heart swells. He was trying to be a bit silly, not enough to have her eyes crinkling like that, but he's happy she finds him funny.

"Sure baby." She breathes, still grinning. His stomach flutters, excitement bubbling in his belly and he nods quickly before moving across the room.

Arlo stays cuddled into Harry's neck as he flicks on the nightlight in the nursery and adjusts the blankets in the crib. Theo watched Harry from his bed in the corner, sleepy puppy eyes following his every move. He lays Arlo down, gently shushing him when he store and tucks Bunny into his side. With a peck to his head and a quiet "good night bug," Harry partially shuts the bedroom door and rushes back into the bedroom.

Y/n has already kicked off her bottoms, leaving her naked on their sheets and Harry groans as he works to catch up with her. His shirt is playfully tossed at y/n's grinning face, Harry laughing as he wiggles out of his sweats. Naked as the day he was born, Harry jumps onto his knees at the bottom of the bed.

A laugh bubbles out of y/n when the whole bed shakes under his weight, clearly amused at how excited he is. She must be just as excited though because she quickly leans forward to cup his face, attaching their lips and bringing him back down to the pillows with her.

"Wanna be on top," he mutters into her mouth, ghosting his hand down her tummy and tickling his thumb over her clit. "f'that's ok?"

"Mmm," she hums, happily "too tired to top anyway."

Harry seals their lips together again, using his knees to spread her thighs a bit further apart for him. Her palms smooth down his sides and around to his back, a breathy moan interrupting their kiss courtesy of his fingers. Harry utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging her hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against her side. She lifts, and he settles it under her lower back and bum to prop her up. Luckily for him, he's had a lot of practice getting around a baby bump for a shag.

Settling between her thighs, Harry giggles when she wraps her legs around his hips and tugs him closer. His body hovers over hers, love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through her folds, groaning at how slick she's become.

"Don't even have to try anymore do I?" He teases with a wolfish smile, capturing her lips just as she rolls her eyes. Giggling, he leaves soft kisses across her cheek, heading towards the base of her jaw.

"S'the baby's fault honestly." She argues, her fingers disappearing into the damp locks sticking to the back of his neck.

He hums, smirking against her skin. "Is it?"

With a small tug she's pulling him back up to her mouth. "Yeah. Gets me revved up all the bloody time. I don't know what you're putting in there mister but it's exhausting."

Harry laughs quietly, nipping at her bottom lip. "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take care of ya. S'my problem after all, isn't it?"

Y/n nods, biting back a grin as Harry grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling her. Chest to chest, Harry smiles at the feeling of their stomachs pressed together as he guides the head of him into her slit.

The sigh that puffs out of her chest sends a zip of pleasure up his spine, as if she'd been partial without him and the pure relief of just having him in her is all she could ever want. Harry hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey she is for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have her this desperate for him and his touch.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. He pulls his hips back, breath stuttering when he easily slips forward again.

Y/n moans softly, dropping one hand to the small of his back as if guiding him. "So so good H." She confirms in a whisper, her voice tickling his ear and he squirms with a small laugh at the sensation.

Harry's soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between them and the one sleeping down the hall. Even the kisses he places on her jaw and lips are tender, small brushes between their confirmations that he "feels so good" inside her and she was "made for being wrapped me huh?" And Harry thinks nothing ever been truer. Her arms were made to hold him, her hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and her heart was made to completely consume his.

Y/n reaches her high before him, rolling her hips up to try and quicken his but he maintains his sensual thrusts, stroking her temple as she trembles and gasps, clinging to him in every way possible. There's something about how quick she falls apart for him when she's pregnant and how utterly earth shattering it is for her, that it completely obliterates any sense of stamina Harry's ever had. He couldn't care less when he follows shortly after, grinding down into her heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in her walls. She's the one stroking his temple this time, and he knows she's watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes.

Maybe it's the lingering anxiety that washed over him at the grocery store, but when y/n kisses him and gently nudges him off of her so she can go pee, Harry's desperate as he grips her hand and pouts, practically begging when he asks "can I get back in ya after? Just to fall asleep darling?"

Of course she nods, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead to soothe him and just like that he already feels lighter. He never has to sorry with her, because they were made for loving each other.

"Oh fuck!"

"Would you stop being so loud! It's 8 in the morning!"

"Can't help it, darling."

Harry tightens his hold around y/n's thighs, dipping his tongue back into her slit and groaning loudly despite the warning she's already given him this morning. She tugs on his hair scoldingly, drawing a pained hiss out of him. Harry brings his teeth up to her clit, nibbling in retaliation. A pained hiss of her own leaves her lips, cut off by a soft moan as he soothes his tongue over the spot.

Grinding her hips up into his mouth, Harry can't help but push his own into the mattress and a deep groan escapes him as he does so. Huffing, y/n scolds him again for being too loud when they've got a sleeping child one room over.

"Stop yelling at me so I can make you cum." He purrs, lips brushing over her clit. Their eyes meet over the curves and dips of her body, Harry smirking when she raises a prodding eyebrow at him. He kisses her thigh just once, lapping his tongue through her slit and he's just reaching her most sensitive spot when the beginning stirs of Arlo waking up break through the baby monitor.

Simultaneous groans leave both their mouths, this time of frustration. Harry pouts, knocking his forehead on y/n's hip bone and shaking his head.

"I told you Styles." Y/n teases, stroking through his hair for a second. He can't even think of a rebuttal before Arlo is calling out softly for her, and she's pushing up from the bed to get dressed.

"Take care of that while I take care of this." She calls as she disappears through the door, snickering softly and leaving him there desperate for her. But then again, when is he not desperate for her?

Hey man, hope I'm not being a bother. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink Friday or something?

-Z

Harry stares at the message, wondering why Zayn would sign it when the Instagram handle is clearly him. He also wonders why the hell Zayn is trying to hang out with him now.

It's a sunny day, the air outside relatively warm for March so Harry slipped a sweater on Arlo and brought him out to the backyard to play. They're sat in the grass, Arlo between his legs as they teach Theo to play fetch. Arlo's gotten good at tossing the chew toy himself, so Harry used the free time to start clearing out the congratulations messages he's received on Instagram.

"What's the matter H?"

Harry locks his phone, tilting his head up and squinting into the sun as y/n stands over them. She's got a bowl of puffy hot Cheetos in her hand, cradling them as if they were a precious gem as she settles into the grass with them.

"Nothing," he mumbles, pecking her temple when she leans into his side. "just got a weird text from Zayn. He wants to hang out."

Crunching through a chip, she hums. "Did you know he lives here?"

She lifts up a Cheeto, offering it to him. Harry gladly takes it between his teeth, pulling it from her fingertips and crunching down on the puffy chip. Swallowing, he shakes his head.

"Ran into him at the store once around Valentine's Day," she says, eyes watching Arlo dig his stubby fingers into the dry grass. "Was trying to talk to me about you I think but your son threw a fit and I was too busy to care honestly."

"Really?" Harry asks, perking up at the idea of Arlo throwing a tantrum to keep people away from y/n. That's the only time he'll agree with such actions. "Taught him well then haven't I?"

Rolling her eyes, she elbows him. "If you're son grows up to be rude I'm going to kick your ass Harry Styles."

Laughing, he steals a chip from her, locking his phone and dropping it to the grass. Arlo, interested in the device, crawls over to pick it up.

"Wouldn't expect anything less darling." He says, reaching over to swipe his phone to the camera so Arlo can snap random pictures.

"What are you going to do about Zayn then?"

"Suppose I should see what he wants, yeah?"

Y/n shrugs but Harry can read the look on her face easily. She's always silently encouraged him to face things that need mending or fixing, and his past with Zayn is one of those things.

"S'done then," he laughs, pinching her side affectionately. "I'll figure out why he's so obsessed with me."

She laughs, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose in the way makes him want to stare at her forever. "Think it's that one he's obsessed with. Look how cute he is."

Harry follows her line of sight, smile growing at the sight of Arlo making faces at himself in Harry's camera.

So bloody cute.

"Are we gonna be besties? I think we're gonna be besties." Niall states, swinging an arm around y/n's shoulders. He's on his third beer of the night already and Harry hasn't even made it to the ring yet. Y/n just laughs, continuing to maneuver tape around Harry's fingers but he's not as kind.

Casting a glare at the Irish man, Harry calls out to Gemma. "Get your leprechaun off of my girl before I use him to warm up."

Niall isn't really phased by the words, only pouting softly at Harry's steel gaze but Gemma is quick to rush over and pull Niall up from the couch by his hand.

"Come on babe, let's go find our seats." She coos to him, sending Harry an apologetic smile. He waits for her and Niall to turn their backs before chuckling softly. Y/n pinches at his wrist.

"Be nice to Niall. I really like him."

"Oh you really like him, huh?" Harry huffs, nudging his knee against hers. She rolls her eyes, giggling when he slips his free hand around her waist and pulls her into his lap. "Please tell me how much you really like Niall darling." He requests, shoving his face in her neck and playfully biting at her throat and shoulder. Just as he'd expected, she giggles and squirms, Harry having to wrap her up in a bear hug to keep her from sliding right off his thigh.

"Harry! Stop!"

He laughs with her, moving up to bite at the apples of her cheeks and her nose, growling as if he were a rabid beast. His freshly taped knuckles ache under the tightness of the wrap as he grips her flailing legs but he ignores it in favor of listening to her laugh.

"I like you more! I swear!" She shouts between laughs, wiggling a hand free and gripping the back of his neck. Pleased with her words, Harry pants out a laugh before sealing his mouth to hers.

"Tha's good because I like you more than Niall too." He mumbles into her lips.

"You like me more than you like everyone." She chuckles, stroking her thumb along his jawline. Harry's eyes shine with delight, proud that she knows her place in his heart, but he still teases.

"Mmm almost darling. Quite like my son, ya know that?"

She rolls her eyes but looks at him fondly, pinching the meat of his cheek. "Cute," she murmurs, "now go get ready for your fight baby. Want everyone to see my husband's gonna be the national champion."

Her words bring a rush of blood to his cheeks (and his cock if he's being honest), but he nudges her onto the couch next to him. "Just need two more wins." He whispers in her ear, pecking her temple.

Just two more wins.

There's good fights and there's bad fights. Everyone knows that. But not everyone knows that there's good wins and bad wins. Harry's experienced a few of those bad ones. Wins that he probably shouldn't have gotten because he certain his opponent had landed more punches and the judges miscounted. Or it was clear the other fighter wasn't into it and let him win.

Harry thinks tonight is his worst win ever.

The fight had been good. Trinsky, tonight's opponent from New Jersey, was short and stocky but strong. Harry was quicker than him though so they'd gone back and forth for a few rounds. Nothing two rough, just enough punches to have bright red welts on his torso and an ache in his jaw.

He fought through it though, fueled by the sounds of y/n and Niall cheering for him. Win this fight and he's onto the championship match. So he went at it with all he had left, charging Trinsky just as the man knocked his fist into Harry's temple.

It felt like a lightning bolt of pain zapped through his brain, shaking his core and causing his feet to stumble. Trinsky slid to the right as Harry crashed into the ropes, blinking furiously as the room around him spun. He was still in a daze as his body moved on its own, quick enough to uppercut his left fist into Trinsky's chin. The man crumbled to the mat, out cold, and Harry's dizzy head brought him down as well.

There's cheering and an announcement of his name, declaring Harry the winner but he can't seem to focus on it. Trinsky is being moved from the ring by his team, Harry falling to his bum on the mat as he rips at the velcro of his gloves with his teeth.

The room is coming back into focus, someone is calling him from the side of the ring but he doesn't recognize the voice so it goes ignored. He gets his hands free, rubbing his fingers into the tender spot on his head and wincing. He needs to take some Advil and ice it.

Harry climbs to his feet, a bit disoriented as he ducks under the ropes to leave. He knows he's got a team here somewhere but his mind can't seem to recognize what they look like or how to find them.

"Man, what are you doing?"

He turns, confused to find two men watching him like he's grown a second head. Harry feels like he knows the warm brown eyes of the taller man but he's not sure from where. Smiling uncomfortably, he motions behind him.

"I n-need ice or something." He says, excusing himself with a shrug and turning back to the locker room. He doesn't like the way his stomach twists or how his chest is telling him he knows those men when he couldn't even tell you there names right now. His heart thunders in his chest, panic seeping in and he's desperate to find something or someone that'll just help him out.

"Harry baby," she says calmly, a hand rubbing up his bare back comfortingly. "you okay?"

Y/n appears at his side, head tilted so she can meet his nervous gaze. Almost immediately he latches onto her hand, shaking his head. Her eyebrows crease, lips frowning as she reaches to cup his cheek.

"What's going on H? What's the matter?"

"M'head hurts," he answers immediately. "I-I think I forgot my team."

A trembling breath leaves his lips, tears stinging behind his eyes when he sees the concern on his wife's face. She brushes her thumb over his temple, the one she knows got hit the hardest, and then brushes a sweaty strand of hair off his forehead to place a tender kiss there.

"Let's get you to the locker room babe."

He follows like a lost puppy, trailing behind her through the back hallway and into his locker room. Y/n closes the door behind him before anyone else can enter, twisting the lock. Harry sits in the closest chair, fiddling with the tape on his fingers as he tries to calm down.

"Do you want to talk to me bub?" Y/n asks quietly, pulling up a seat directly in front of him. He nods, lifting his gaze from his hands to her face.

"I don't know what happened. It's like I got hit in the head and everything got shook up." He explains, frowning. He hates the way this feels. Hates that his body is screaming at him to just remember but his brain refuses to accept the message. "I know them, I know I do but s'like their names and stuff are just gone."

Y/n inhales sharply, biting nervously at her bottom lip. Harry's not even sure what to say and that makes him feel so much worse. He doesn't even feel like he has a concussion, not really. Everything else is still there, still in the forefront of his mind. His wife, his boys, Anne and Gemma. And he faintly remembers sitting at bars with one of the men from his team, remembers crashing on his couch late at night. But the soul of those memories are gone.

"I'm gonna get you some painkillers and water okay babe? Then we'll figure out what to do."

He nods, smiling wetly when she kisses his forehead. Watching her move around the room to gather water and whatnot, Harry wills himself to just think. He knows these men, he's just gotta focus on it. A memory stands out, one of the three of them in a car on a road trip. His trainer is driving, his manager in the passenger seat and he knows this is a trip for a match. A recent match too because he remembers saying goodbye to Arlo and y/n, kissing her swollen belly before he went.

Y/n returns to him with a bottle of water and a couple pills, watching him cautiously as he squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to just think. Recalling conversations from the car, remembering the screen in the front of the vehicle that reads Connected to Liam's iPhone. Liam. Almost instantly Nick's name floods his brain again and he feels his whole body tremble with relief.

Harry takes the medicine, gulping it down and slumping into his seat. "Nick and Liam," he finally murmurs, voice thick. "I couldn't remember darling. They were right in front of me and I couldn't remember their fucking names."

A silent tear trails down his cheek, Harry sniffling as y/n wipes it away with a tender touch he's only felt from her. "Its ok Harry. We'll figure out what happened. At least you remember now baby." She tried to comfort, but Harry's heart still aches.

"What if-" he peers up at her through wet eyelashes. "what if it had been you? Or Arlo? Or all three of you? What if I-"

He can't even finish the thought before he's shaking his head, more tears slipping down his cheeks and jaw. What would he have done if he'd looked at y/n and not remembered her name? Not remembered the beautiful son they created? Or the one she's growing now?

"It wasn't Harry," she stays sternly, cutting into his spiralling thoughts. "it wasn't and even if it did happen, it wouldn't change a thing. You're not getting rid of us."

Trying to smile, he nods and takes a deep breath. He trusts her, more than anyone, and he's never known someone that fights as much as she does. He knows, no matter what, that she'll always have his back.

#sweet as honey #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #one direction #harry styles au #dad harry #boxer harry #cute #smut #daddy harry styles #sweet as honey talk

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whatisthiswritingthing · 3 years

Text

I’m Ready - Emily Sonnett x Reader

Prompt: Where R is a single foster parent and it got me thinking.

R has not had a placement for awhile (but still has her foster license) and Sonnett planed the date to ask R to move in with her but when she ask R, R was shocked and telling Sonnett that she doesn’t think it will be a good idea because of her being a foster parent and could get a call at any given time and Sonnett telling R that she does not care and would like to help her out. Then R gets the call for a placement and has to leave the date but Sonnett get up with her and basically like I am going with you and you can’t stop me. When they get to the hospital R sees how gentle and soft Sonnett is with the baby and tells her that yes they will move in her.

Where the R is a single foster parent ( been for a while before they started to date) and while Sonnett and R is on a date and R gets a call about a foster placement (a 3 month old baby) and feels bad for leaving the date but Sonnett insist on coming her and helping her out. But when she founds out that it’s a baby sonnett gets so nervous and scared.

Note, couple prompt rolled into one here.

“She didn’t say anything when you asked?” Kelley asked from the couch, watching Sonnett pace back and forth through the living room, stopping occasionally to randomly adjust everything that was already perfectly in place.

“I didn’t even get a chance!” the blonde turned around quickly, throwing her hands up.

“What do you mean?” the defender tilted her head to the side, Emily flopping her hands back to her sides and beginning to move throughout the room, “slow down and explain what happened.”

Emily sighed, moving to perch on the edge of arm of the couch. Biting the edge of her thumb, she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, “I don’t know,” she shrugged defeated, “we had plans last night, she seemed like she was really looking forward to it. I picked her up, she looked gorgeous,” a small smile on her face, dropping as she continued, “the night was great, dinner was romantic, we were every gross romantic cliché. Then on our walk, I got nervous, and I couldn’t get the words out.”

Kelley moved to the blonde, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back, encouraging her to continue, tugging the thumb away from her teeth, squeezing her hand.

“And she was so sweet about it, said I could talk to her about anything, she had pulled me to the side of the path, held both my hands and just gave me the softest smile,” she paused, smiling softly while she thought about the night before, “then I don’t know what happened. I finally got the nerve to start asking and she got all weird and said she needed to go and bolted.”

Having sat long enough, the defender got up and began pacing the room again. Kelley furrowed her brow, confused at how quickly Y/N had changed on the date the night before. Y/N was always so patient with the blonde, giving her the opportunity to explain herself, reassuring her when she was anxious about how she worded things.

“Have you guys talked since?”

Sonnett shook her head sadly, “I tried to call her last night, but she didn’t answer and I sent a couple texts, nothing there either.”

Kelley got up and pulled the blonde into a hug, “I’m sorry Em.”

Emily struggled in the hold for a second before collapsing into it and allowing the hug, “maybe this means she isn’t interested in long term,” she mumbled into the brunette’s neck.

“You guys have been together for two years, she requested a trade to Washington just to be with you,” Kelley squeezed her, “do you really think she isn’t serious about this?”

She shrugged meekly in the hug.

“See if she says anything at practice this afternoon. Don’t overthink yourself too far before you know what to overthink.”

Sonnett just shrugged again, tugging herself away, fumbling around the apartment, picking up her equipment, “let’s get to training then.”

Practice was about to start, but Y/N had yet to show up.

“Sonnett, where’s Y/L/N?” Burke called, looking around the field.

“I’m not her keeper,” the blonde grunted out, before her eyes went wide, “sorry coach, I’m not sure where she is today.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Y/N called as she rushed out to the field, one cleat on, hoping on one foot while she struggled to pull the other on while still moving, shin guards tucked under arms, “It will never happen again, I’m so sorry Coach.”

Burke gave her a hard look, motioning for everyone to focus up and began his pre-practice talk. Y/N crashed down hard, having tripped over her untied cleat, “fuck,” she tugged the other cleat on.

Sonnett watched on as Y/N spoke with Burke after the meeting off to the side. Burke nodded along, smiling as Y/N spoke, giving her a pat on the back as the soccer player jogged away.

The rest of practice Y/N seemed distracted, constantly glancing over to the trainers on the sideline.

“You good?” Emily stood next to her at a water break, concerned for how different her girlfriend seemed during practice.

She never got a response as one of the trainers called Y/N’s name, motioning to the cell phone in her hand, and she took off. The blonde watched as Y/N answered the phone, walking away and beginning to pace the sideline, plugging a finger in her ear when the whistle blew.

“What’s that all about?” Kelley asked the blonde.

“I don’t know,” Sonnett tracked her girlfriend, noting how frustrated she was getting on the call.

Practice resumed, Y/N joining again at some point, more distracted than before.

“We’ve got to talk,” Kelley shoved the soccer player down the hall after practice, pushing her away from the change room.

“Kel, I don’t have time for this,” Y/N pulled her arm out of Kelley’s grasp, working to make her way back towards the change room.

“No, you have time,” Kelley tightened her hold, keeping Y/N in place.

Y/N released a sigh, tilting her chin to the brunette, waiting for her to continue.

“Do you love Emily, or are you just with her for the fun of it?” she began harshly.

“Fuck you Kelley,” Y/N ripped her arm out, glaring at her, “do you actually have something to say, or would you like to just belittle my relationship?”

“She was going to ask you to move in with her,” Kelley softened.

The glare immediately left Y/N’s face, “oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” now the brunette glared at her, not saying anything and just watching Y/N, waiting for her to say something else, “fix this,” Kelley pointed firmly at her before walking away.

Y/N slowly walked back to the change room, reading the new email on her phone as she went, plopping into her locker and running a hand over her face.

Emily came and sat next to her, “I saw Kelley kidnapped you,” she tried to joke.

Y/N sighed, rolling her head to look at the blonde, giving her a sad smile, “something like that. I’m sorry about last night Emily.”

“It’s alright Y/N, can you tell me what happened?”

Y/N looked away, letting out a slow controlled breath, “I need to tell you something,” she started nervously.

“Can we not do this here?” Emily whispered, nervously looking around the change room, seeing the few lingering players.

“Shit, not that Em,” Y/N quickly shook her head, “but, uhh, you’re definitely right, not here.”

The pair both nervously gathered their things, awkwardly walking next to each other out of the stadium. The awkwardness continued as they walked into Emily’s apartment, neither of them knowing how to start or what to say.

“We can’t live together,” Y/N finally cut the awkward silence.

Emily clenched her jaw and nodded her head dejectedly.

“God Emily, I’m crazy about you, for you. But I think we are better living apart, at least for a little bit,” Y/N didn’t know how to explain how much she loved Emily but why it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to live together, how unfair it be to the blonde if they lived together, “I love you.”

Now Emily scoffed at hearing that, rolling her eyes and looking to the ceiling, “what, you love me but you’re just not in love with me? It’s not you it’s me? What cliché line are you going to drop before you break up with me?”

“No, I don’t want to break up with you,” Y/N recoiled, shaking her head, not expecting the aggressiveness in the blonde’s tone.

“Then, what the fuck is going on? I was ready to ask you to move in yesterday and now you’re being all weird and saying it’s a bad idea, and saying you don’t want to break up, but very much acting how someone would before they break up.”

Emily let all her frustration out, hands firmly on her hips as she started hard at her girlfriend.

Y/N nodded along while the blonde ranted.

“There was a screw up, or not really a screw up, but my name was passed along without me knowing,” Y/N sighed, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the couch cushion, “I was a foster parent back in in Seattle, and I guess they need them here, and the social worker from there moved here and uhh added me to the list.”

“So?” the blondes anger not going anywhere, not understanding why this meant they couldn’t live together.

“They want to give me a kid, uhh a baby actually,” Y/N looked down, rubbing her hand on the back if her neck.

Emily dropped her hands, eyes shooting wide, not expecting that answer.

“I said maybe, only if they can’t find anyone else and only short term. So, I might not be getting one, but uhh, I didn’t want you to feel trapped if I did get one.”

Sonnett opened and closed her mouth, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she was ready for a baby, but she knew she was ready for Y/N, so she was probably ready to try.

Y/N’s phone began to ring on the coffee table, she glanced to the phone and to Emily, before picking up the phone when she saw the expression on the blondes face. Not able to interpret it, she picked up the phone and began to walk into the hall.

Emily nervously moved around the apartment while she waited for Y/N to come back inside. Yesterday she was going to ask Y/N to move in with her, and now she’s considering if she is ready to help take care of a kid with her. They had been together for a while now, Y/N uprooted her whole life to be near Emily, she wasn’t forcing her to help either, hadn’t asked her at all.

Did that mean Y/N didn’t think Emily was serious about them? That she didn’t think Emily could handle a baby? That she didn’t see a future with them? A future baby of their own?

She was brought out of her thoughts when Y/N slowly walked back inside, gently closing the door behind her. Y/N tapped the edge of her phone against her palm, refusing to look up.

“I have to go,” she started softly, “I’m sorry I made you think I wanted to break up, I love you, Emily.” She took a couple steps forward, kissing Emily on the cheek, nodding to herself and making her way back to the door.

“Wait!” Emily rushed forward, stopping Y/N before she could leave, “I want to come.”

“Emily,” Y/N smiled sadly at the blonde, “I’m on my way to pick up a baby right now.”

“I know, I want to come.”

Y/N watched her, determining if she was serious. Nodding, she smiled and reached out to hold the blondes hand and lead her out.

Sonnett listened as Y/N spoke to the social worker, trying to take in all the new information. That the baby had been delivered the night before, that the mom wasn’t prepared for a baby and dad wasn’t in the picture at all, no other family available to take care of the baby.

She could feel her palms sweat the more they spoke, this baby was already in a position where no one wanted it, she wasn’t prepared to be another disappointment in the small humans short life.

“You don’t have to stay Em,” Y/N leaned over and whispered after the social worker walked away, “you didn’t sign up for this, I know it’s a lot.”

“No, I’m here,” she rubbed her palms on her pants, “I’m ready,” she straightened up, giving Y/N a determined smile, “did you do this lots in Seattle?”

“This will be my second baby, but I had a few toddlers, couple children. This will be my eighth all together though,” Y/N kept her eyes down the hallway, waiting for the social worker to come back with the baby.

“How did you do it with travelling for both teams?”

“I agreed for short term ones only, and I had a few really good friends that were able to watch them during practice or the odd away game. Luckily, we always get all our schedules far enough in advance I can plan pretty far ahead,” Y/N explained, “this one is a little unexpected though, so I’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Emily corrected.

“What?” Y/N looked next to her, pausing the mental planning she was doing, organizing everything she would need to get done.

“We’ll figure it out, together,” she clarified again, “I’m in this with you Y/N.”

“Really Emily, you don’t need to help, but I guess, just uhh, now you know.”

Sonnett didn’t say anything as the social worker rounder the corner with a small baby wrapped in a blanket. Y/N stepping away to meet her halfway, gently taking the baby into her arms, rocking it back and forth.

Emily couldn’t help the smile on her face, the gentle smile on Y/N’s face as she stared down at the baby pulling one of her own. She walked up behind Y/N, sliding an arm around her waist, Y/N turned and smiled at her.

“Want to hold her?” Y/N turned slightly, offering her the baby.

Sonnett nodded nervously, wiping her hands before taking the baby into her arms. Y/N mimicked Emily and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’m really glad you agreed to this Y/N,” the social worker cut in, interrupting their little bubble.

Y/N smiled in return, giving her a nod, looking back to Emily holding the baby.

“Do you want me to take a picture? You guys are adorable,” the social worker reached a handout for Y/N’s phone. Taking the picture, she handed the phone back, “everything is in order, I’ll check in in a couple days. You look really happy Y/N,” she patted Y/N on the arm as she walked away.

“Ready to go home?” Y/N asked, taking the baby back from Emily, sliding a hand down to hold the blondes and guide her out of the hospital.

“I’m ready,” Emily kissed Y/N on the cheek before placing a delicate one on the babies forehead.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader

261 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

know your worth | myg

pairing: min yoongi x oc

genre: swordsman!yoongi, fluff, mini angst

warnings: heartthrob yoongi basically, some mentions of sexism, eventual smut!

words: 4, 599

summary: as the chosen one, you've never believed in yourself. enter yoongi

“Your limbs are too flimsy. You’re meant to slice the sword—not swing.” Tone laced with nothing unyielding authority, Yoongi reminds you why you’ve thought about slicing his head off with the sword.

“I heard you the first time.” You grit out.

You turn your body as you jump into an elegant twirl that provides you with the momentum to slice the hundred-year-old sword through the air, position stopping right in front of Yoongi who has nothing but a vacant expression on his face.

“Clearly you weren’t listening enough. You’re still swinging. Tense your arms.” He scolds, tapping your elbow provokingly with the edge of his thousand-year sword. A gift from the previous master himself.

“I am.” You spit.

Your body feels loose, and not in a relaxing way after a calming massage but instead with the echo of your muscles telling you to stop. Hours of practice cooped up in the chambers of the temple seemed futile when you didn’t see an end to your practices, especially given the man who leaves no room for imperfection was the one who kept you on your feet.

With one last push, you tense your arms as hard as you can to ensure that your grip on the sword is tight enough so that when you do slice the sword in the air, you’re able to stop it just enough for him to be satisfied.

Your own standards be damned.

“Stop.”

His curt voice breaks you out of your final effort in appeasing his exceedingly high standards and you freeze in the middle of your ministrations, limbs giving up on your intentions as you droop and let your knees greet the floor.

You’re panting when you hear his feet shuffle right in front of your bent figure, the shadow of his silhouette looming over you as the constant reminder of your failure, the lack of satisfaction that you were able to provide to him.

“Stand up.” He commands.

You want to defy his orders because it’s been hours since you’ve stepped foot into the temple to learn from one of the swordmasters today, and months since he was the one that was appointed to you when the town first found out you were the worthy one to bear the hundred-year-old sword.

When you first found out about your predetermined future, you were baffled, to say the least, because your entire life was spent by your mother’s side curating apothecary for the village folks, occasionally boiling dumplings to be distributed to the poor in your area.

You’ve lived a life nothing short of ordinary, and you were the poster image of mediocre. There was nothing to you that screamed worthy or unique enough to be chosen as the next apprentice. The town you lived in awaited only two things each year, Lunar New year and the announcement from the deities above on who was the next person in line to carry the legacy of your townsfolk’s.

You never paid any mind, purely because you were busy with other things and that you cared for the people around you rather than the chatters of aunties and uncles that would place bids on their sons to be next in line—the title indefinitely guaranteeing a lifetime of fortune.

So when your name was announced as you packed the last bits of dumplings to be distributed, every person in town was bewildered, because you weren’t of royal blood, nor were you in connection with any one of power. You were nobody.

And a woman.

The first time a woman has been called as the chosen one in all the years of history that your town has been aware of and it’s this … nobody.

You definitely felt like an outsider when the council brought you to the temple, secluded far away from your town to ensure that you were immersed in your training and not get distracted by anything else but your duty to fulfill.

Your imposter syndrome only became worse when you somehow ended up with someone as unbearable and unforgiving as Min Yoongi as the person who was meant to determine whether you were fit to represent your town in a year's time.

Were you really worthy?

“I said stand up, _____.”

His deep voice breaks you out of your trance as you make your way up on shaky knees, wobbling as you grip the sword tightly in your fist while you avoided his formidable gaze.

“Why did you stop when I didn’t tell you to?”

He knows the answer to the question, you’re sure he does. You’re sure under the exterior of all the coldness that ebbs away on his skin, the slight wrinkles that come with experience surely held wisdom and observational skills that would rival an average person. He knows.

You remain silent, knowing not to engage in another argument with him.

Amongst all the apprentices that Yoongi had the favour of training, you were by far the most … interesting.

One, because you were a woman, which was already different from every other person that enters the halls to learn from him.

But mainly because you seemed to doubt yourself a lot more than someone who was chosen by the deities should have.

The people that walked through the entrances of the temple usually carried some form of confidence with them, and dare Yoongi say—cockiness, which is why he turned people away when they let their egos get to their head.

The deities choose the worthy ones, but only the worthy ones are chosen by Yoongi.

You don’t know that because all Yoongi is to you is your superior, someone who pushes your body till it breaks and until you can’t breathe. But what you don’t see is what he sees in you. The fight of a woman who cares for her people. Who understands human nature far better than any chosen one has ever felt.

You also were oddly mouthy. It wasn’t … bad. But interesting. Never had Yoongi have an apprentice that was as ballsy to call him an asshole amongst other colourful nicknames as you were. But you were far from conventional.

Maybe that’s why Yoongi calls you out.

“You want to curse at me.” Yoongi muses, his tone far from accusatory but more as if he was stating the obvious.

You snap your head to look at him, eyes narrowing at his figure who holds the sword of his behind his back firmly. His onyx, cat-like eyes pierce through your expression that races with every time he blinks at you, and you try to convince yourself that the race of your heart is because of your intense practice rather than his gaze.

“I want to do a lot of things to you …” You mutter under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

You don’t realise the double-meaning behind your words until you see Yoongi cock an eyebrow at you.

Your ears burn at the honest mistake, but you don’t fight to take the words back because Yoongi had a way of making you feel small with just his stare.

“And that is?” He pries, twirling his sword with precision and ease as he glides his long fingers against the body of the blade; your eyes trained on the clarity of his actions.

“Let’s start with slicing your head off, yeah?” You grunt.

Amusement dances in Yoongi’s irises as you avoid his heavy-lidded glare, feeling all the more flustered when he takes a firm step towards you, the heat of his body apparent against your own even if you were the one that was sweating.

“Would that help you with your technique?” He cocks his head to the side, tone anything but joking.

You look at him carefully as you observe for any sign of a taunt, but he just gazes at you with his blank stare that frustrates you till no end because while you were an open book with your expressions, Yoongi was just as mysterious as when you first met him.

“I dunno. Will you stop yapping at me if I say yes?” You retort.

Instead of replying, he grabs your wrist in a swift motion, causing you to yelp at the sudden touch.

His hand is hot against your skin, a big palm engulfing your wrist that looks small in comparison to his hand. You feel the roughness of his palm that came from years of practice and familiarity with the sword, and you gulp when he drags it to his neck—eyes never leaving yours.

“W-What are you doing—?” You stutter, but then he grabs the sword in your other hand in a moment of weakness and brings it to the hand by his neck as your eyes widen.

“W-Wait—Yoongi—”

Yoongi doesn’t leave room for you to hesitate or pull away when he voluntarily brings his neck alarmingly close to the sharp edge of your sword.

“Slice.”

The hand that isn’t holding the sword to your trainer’s neck falls limp to your side as you gape at him when you note that his words and expression are dead serious, not an inkling of fear on his face at the prospect of you potentially slicing his head off.

“What? No! Are you crazy?” You try to retract your hand, but his wrist returns to grab at it.

Your face is forced to stare at his when he levels a hooded stare at you, making your heart beat faster, flustered at the proximity of your bodies.

“The motion, ____.” He calls your name, and even as it falls from his lips you feel less worthy; like a stranger in the temple.

“If you swing—you’ll kill me. If you slice above my neck, I live.”

The gamble he offers you is petrifying, and it’s even worse because it’s his life on the line—not yours.

Yoongi always had unorthodox methods of training you but never had he put himself on the line like this just so you would learn something.

“I-I’ll fix my motions—I swear! But I’m not going to … I can’t do what you’re asking me to,” You tell him firmly.

Yoongi’s head leans closer, skin barely touching your blade when he pulls your wrist closer as you see the indent of the sword against his pale skin.

“I tell you what to do. Not the other way around.” He reminds you.

You know there’s no room for argument anymore because if you weren’t going to do anything, you were sure Yoongi would take matters into his own hands.

You wanted to call him crazy for trusting someone like you with a sword as sharp as yours against the delicate expanse of his neck, but you were both flustered and scared at what were to happen if he came closer.

“Why would you do this?” You whisper.

“I’m not skilled enough to do this Yoongi …” You tell him, hand shaking around your sword as you feel a lump form in your throat.

Suddenly, you feel the grip on your wrist loosen; and you’re afraid that your words serve as a reminder to him that he’s wasted nearly a year on a hopeless case like you; that he was disappointed in all the time he’s dedicated to training you for you to be unable to carry out a simple slice of the sword.

“I said, slice.”

His stare is cold, eyes blank, and lips pursed when he repeats himself.

You blink up at him, and if he notices the way your eyes are glassy; he doesn’t comment. But you know his expression is one of patience, but there’s only so much that he can take and wait for, and you didn’t want to test him anymore.

So, you slice.

You slice, and bring the sword back to your side, chest heaving and heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. You don’t want to look at Yoongi, terrified if you’ve hurt him.

You stay still with your eyes shut, sword limps in your arms until you hear the shuffle of feet right next to you, and your sword is retrieved from your grip.

“Good.”

You open your eyes and only then do you realise that you’ve foolishly allowed tears to fall.

“You’re okay.” You breathe out, observing the fact that his neck is clean—barren of any scar and red.

“Would I risk my life to train an apprentice?” He asks.

You open your mouth to answer but snap it shut when he places your sword next to his against the wooden frame. He gestures for you to sit, and you hesitantly do, mulling over his words as he mirrors your position, right across from you.

“You could do it. So why didn’t you do that earlier?” Yoongi asks a question where he expects an obvious answer.

But you didn’t know. You didn’t know why you weren’t able to slice earlier when you were able to put on the spot with Yoongi’s life on the line.

You think of an answer, but it burns your ears—and you would never dare utter it to Yoongi. A man who feels and breathes nothing but his work.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response as you swallow your words.

“I don’t know.” Is what you settle for.

Yoongi sighs, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his forearms that show the strength he’s trained for over the years that he’s been a thousand-year sword-bearer.

Yoongi had always been cold. A little disinterested and definitely detached from any sentiment that people would usually offer to their apprentices. It seemed that he was only interested in making sure that you weren’t going to embarrass his name after months of relentless training with you.

It’s always been a hard truth to accept, especially when he’s the person you spend most of your time with; nearly twelve hours a day, and the person you want to see you.

But you’re just … his apprentice. A foolish one, one that fails to show the true glory of a trainer like him.

“You do know, ____. Think.” He leans forward, hands placed on the floorboard in between the two of you as he looks straight into your eyes.

You bite your lip, afraid to tell him why. Afraid that your answer will only push him away rather than please him.

“I-I don’t know Yoongi.” You say softly.

Yoongi blinks then lean back—distancing himself from you.

Your eyes dart to the side, avoiding his stare because you were sure you were going to break if you saw the disappointment that mars his expression.

“Then let me tell you.” He finally says after a moment of silence.

Your eyes widen when your head snaps back to look at him.

You’re terrified that he sees through you. That he recognises the dopey look you give him when he isn’t looking, or why you sometimes get distracted, or your palms sweat for a reason that isn’t because of how hard practice is—that he sees your heart, and he’s here to snap you out of it.

“It’s because you’re worthy.” Yoongi whispers, hands reaching out to grab your own, and suddenly you’re pulled onto his lap.

You gasp, attempting to balance yourself as you find a position that doesn’t strain your thighs and one that isn’t mortifying.

“Y-Yoongi … what—”

“Do you know why you’re here, _____?” He asks, eyes searching for your own.

His expression is still the same. It’s still very much Yoongi, but it’s softer, more mellow. Like he wants you to not be afraid of what’s to come.

“The deity’s chose me …?” You say hesitantly, voice soft and hesitant.

“It’s because I want to keep training you.” He tells you.

His confession knocks the breath out of your lungs as your eyes widen. Your hands that were locked between his starts turning sweaty, and you want to curse at yourself for displaying obvious signs of nerves when Yoongi is debatably the most observant man out there.

“But I’m slow … and I can’t nail your techniques like a true sword-bearer … and I argue with you—”

He interrupts you with his own set of words, accompanied by the soft look from earlier.

“And that’s okay. You’re not here to be judged by my pace or standards. It’s not fair for you and you won’t get anywhere if you want to nail my techniques my way.” He whispers.

You blink, feeling your heart constrict at his honest words.

“B-But you’re always yelling at me.” You pout.

Yoongi wants to rub his thumb between your furrowed brows, but he knows that you needed to be trodden lightly with and that he was sure you were going to faint if he did anything more than just have your hands in his own.

“And that’s because I see what you can do ____,” He tells you, “You’re always giving up because you think you can’t do it. That’s what frustrates me. That you can’t see how great you are at sword-bearing even when your body fights against you to continue.”

You stare at him in shock when he releases your hands to only reach up to grab your cheeks, forcing you to stare at his face.

You’re sure your face is burning, and you can’t even avoid his gaze because he’s dead-set on making sure your eyes stay on his when they chase yours that run away.

“Look at me, ____.”

You reluctantly avert your eyes to his, and you see every pore up close, you see the gentle whip of his long eyelashes and the pout of his lips that look too inviting.

You briefly see his gaze drift to the bottom of your face, where your lips are, and you feel your heartbeat erratically against your chest.

Yoongi looks good when he trains you, eyes scrunched and focused as his black hair remains tousled when he demonstrates positions for you to mirror. But he looks breathtaking up close. The usual blankness of his face looks less intimidating closer like it was your blank canvas to paint—a face where you were in charge of what was to be expressed on it.

“Stop doubting yourself or your skills.” He tuts at you, and you burn under his attention.

“I want you to continue fighting the way you have always fought here. The fire that you have in you? Yeah, don’t let that burn out because you’re more than just the chosen one _____. You’re … you’re talented. No one can convince you but yourself, so I need you to start trusting yourself more because once you’re done with training it’s just going to be you against the rest. I won’t be here to remind you anymore.”

You’re stunned to silence with the honesty of his words. You know that Yoongi doesn’t say this, in fact—it’s the first time you’ve heard such earnest words from the man himself throughout the long months you’ve spent training under him.

Even the other residents of the temple have told you that Yoongi wasn’t the most expressive person, and even if they didn’t tell you—you weren’t blind to how he treats you or people.

The way he looks at you makes you hope, and it’s a dangerous feeling given your position and how weak your heart is compared to a man like Yoongi.

You snap out of your daze and push him off, scrambling to your feet as you grab your sword to leave—tears in your eyes because you feel like a fool for thinking anything more than what he’s offered you.

Yoongi had been nothing but honest with you … and you weren’t in the right to ask of anything else.

Who were you to?

“____.” He calls out when you reach the entrance, and you feel his imposing presence behind you.

“I’m sorry Yoongi but … I can’t.” You tell him shakily, gripping the frame of the door, back faced to him.

“I won’t force you, ____.” He says, curt.

You turn around, heart dropping at the change of his tone. When you see his expression return to the blank expression that he usually has, you have to stop yourself from being disappointed. Realising that what he told you when he held you; was probably to keep you on your feet and determined.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You exasperate.

He furrows his brows, attempting to read you. But your heart is confused and so is your mind.

“I’ll train hard. I know that …” You clear your throat, attempting to level your words out.

“I won’t ask for more. I’ll do better.” You say firmly.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything but pulls you closer by the elbow until you’re pressed against his chest.

“I don’t think you get it, ____.” He says slowly.

You open your mouth to respond, but he’s faster with his response.

“What did you think I meant just now when I told you to stop doubting yourself?” He asks.

“Yoongi, what are you—”

He shushes you with a finger to your lips, and you blush at the touch.

“Answer my question.”

You sigh, slapping his finger away from your mouth to glare at him. But Yoongi simply offers a small shrug of his shoulders in response.

“Look. I know I’ve been slacking off and this is you trying to be nice … which I appreciate, a lot. Really. I do. I know you don’t do …” You gesture to your bodies, “… all of this. So I’ll work harder. You don’t need to—you don’t need to walk on eggshells with me.”

Yoongi blinks.

Not once, but twice.

You gulp, afraid you’ve said too much but you’re helpless against his tight grip on your body so that you’re unable to run away, away from his gaze that you still can’t read.

But then he laughs, and you’re confused at the sound because Yoongi rarely ever displayed any emotion but stoicism when he was with you, and you think you’ve heard him laugh a total of three times throughout the past few months you’ve trained under him.

“Why are you laughing?” You pout.

Yoongi looks at you fondly and sees a fighter but also a woman, a woman who is yet to understand social cues or affection may be because of the way you were brought up—but also maybe because of how Yoongi is by nature.

So instead of explaining in words, where you can misinterpret it, he reaches for your chin gently to turn your face to him so that you see his gentle gaze—and he kisses you.

On the lips.

You’re too shocked to kiss back, your arms staying awkwardly by your side until Yoongi slides a hand down to your hips and squeezes them that you reach your arms around his neck.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to feel his lips against your own, soft, hot and gentle. It was everything like how you dreamt of when you selfishly allowed yourself to indulge in your fantasy—it was now served as a reality and it was so much better than you could ever have thought it to be.

The kiss was so … Yoongi. He wasn’t rushing, he savoured every taste of your lips against his like he had all the time in the world like he spent years planning this very step with calculated precision because Yoongi was not the type to half-ass anything.

It’s until you feel your lungs fighting for air that you pull away, mesmerised by the string of saliva that connects your lips and the swollen pink flesh of Yoongi’s.

“W-What—”

“This is me, ____.” He says against your lips, as you feel your heart race against your chest.

“I believe in you.”

Somehow, you understood. Those four words were enough for you to know where his heart truly laid, and where he stood with you.

“I just … wow,” You breathe.

But then, with all your doubts overcome with joy, you throw all shame out of the window and pull him by the collar until his mouth is on your own again.

This time, with you leading the kiss, you kiss harder even with the inexperience. Yoongi was your first kiss but you knew that you wanted him, that your heart was his even against your better judgment.

You feel him lick into the seams of your mouth, hands reaching down to pull your hips flush against his pelvis, backing you up until your back reaches the frame of the door.

All you feel is Yoongi. You smell him, the slight tinge of perspiration with the scent of nature that surrounds the temple. He tastes just like everything you’ve been waiting for and more, and he only proves how much he was yours as you were his when he grabs your hand to interlock it with strands of his dark hair.

He leaves open-mouth kisses against your lips, breathing heavily with want when you let out small whimpers of desire.

“You really know how to put on a show, huh?” He whispers.

You grin up at him, reaching for the buttons of his shirt, offering him a tempting smile that he grins fondly at.

You’re just about to slip his shirt off when the door slams open.

“Yoongi! ____! We were—”

Before you can even yelp, you shove Yoongi off of you until he drops on his back on the floor, a loud groan reverberating through the walls of the training room as you attempt to straighten your unruly appearance.

You were sure that your lips were swollen and that you were flushed with the way your lips made a home out of Yoongi’s, but you hoped that the three men by the door were dense enough to not catch what was going on.

“A warning would’ve been nice, yeah?” Yoongi grunts, glaring at you when you snap your gaze away from him to offer a meek smile at Jimin, who is all but grinning maniacally at you.

You feel like you’ve committed a crime, but in reality—there was no restriction in making out with your trainer … nor were there any when it came to dating but you knew the mirth that danced between the eyes of the men and you weren’t looking forward to what was to come.

“Sorry to disturb, hyung. It seems that you were … occupied.” Jungkook speaks up, snickering when he catches a glimpse of Yoongi’s shirt halfway off, exposing the firm slope of his abdomen and chest.

You absentmindedly ogle his body, heat surging through your body until you remember that there were people who would call you out.

“Noona, your …” Taehyung gestures to your cheeks and you mortifyingly reach for your cheeks only to feel the heat.

“What did you guys want?” Yoongi grunts, pushing himself off the ground and hastily buttoning his shirt as he takes a position next to you, his presence more engulfing now after you’ve had your taste.

You see Jimin’s eyes dart between the two of you quickly, a cheeky smile adorning his face before he speaks up.

“Dinner’s ready.” He tells you, pushing Taehyung and Jungkook out the door.

Only when he’s halfway out does he say:

“It seems like you had yours already.”

When they’re out of your vision, you groan, burying your head into Yoongi’s chest; absolutely mortified at the two of you being caught.

Yoongi rests a gentle hand on your lower back, and another reaches to hold your chin gently.

“This isn’t over.” He whispers against your lips.

You feel giddy when you walk into the dining hall, his hands intertwined with your own.

#bts imagines #bts fluff #bts fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #mutual pining #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fic #daechwita #swordsman!yoongi

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2plussize · 3 years

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Making of a big boy

(A journey to a big life)

First 50

Matt is a student, 22 years old, and a guy who loves to eat. He looks good with his thick brown head of hair, beard, and brown eyes, and his strong body is not overly hairy. Though he does a lot of sports, he has gained a good 30 pounds over the last years. He weighs 210 pounds on a 5’11 frame, and the flab shows on his middle. He would like to lose a few pounds, but with his hearty appetite .. When we go the all you can eat-buffet, Matt can’t resist the delicious food and eats plate after plate, lining up six times before full. Since it is fun, we make buffets and BBQs a frequent habit. He proves to be a heavy eater, yet I encourage him to eat a bit more. Over time, the diet shows results. Matt is proud that he can now eat more than ever before, eight plates of food plus dessert! But his voluptuous butt now fills a size 38 pants, and the shirts tightly span his full-bodied waist. Although embarrassed that he is already over 240 pounds, he is unwilling to stop the fattening diet and begs me to continue.

Always hungry, he eats lots, and I tease him as he gets noticeably fatter and bursts out of his clothes. With his 260, sports are not so easy anymore. And family and friends pat the pounds on his middle and make mocking remarks about his hearty appetite. Although I assure him of how well the weight suits him, he becomes insecure. In the following months he loses a good 40 pounds. What can I do? I offer him to give eating another try. A deep, relieved smile goes over his face. But in turn for paying his food bills, he has to commit to weigh in at 280 on his 25th birthday. He swallows ... but to nobody’s surprise, he cannot resist the idea of constantly stuffing himself and willingly accepts the challenge.

A bit deceived

To give him a break (and to fatten him), I invite Matt on a cruise in the Caribbean. Endless buffets, ice cream, snacks at any time of the day. Instead of working out in the gym, he prefers to train at the buffet and regularly crams himself to the brim. It does wonders to his waistline, and his swim trunks get skin-tight. Though he got nice and fat at 274 six weeks before his birthday, I can’t withstand to dupe him, manipulating the scales to say 264 and insert 3 inches into the tape measure. He looks incredulously down at his fat spare tire .. and asks me to help him to get fat enough for his birthday. I hard-core feed him now - king size meals, followed by extra helpings, additional desserts. When he wants to give up, I get him to eat more. “Open your mouth .. yeah, well done, and another bite .. you’re a good boy, aren’t you?” On top, he has to drink a pint of heavy cream once a day, whining afterwards that he is terribly full. It turns me on how he blows up, but secretly I feel a bit guilty to fatten him so ..

Finally, it’s his birthday. My goodness, he has become fat! He now easily fills out a pair of 44 jeans, and the shirt we had bought for his birthday sits tight at his waist. A bit shy, he takes it off .. His massive belly bulging out, his doughy hip rolls and ample ass make my mouth water. And he weighs in at .. 291!! I hug him, aroused by the wobbling fat he carries in font of him, and pinch him amicably into his fat hips. Slowly, he realizes my ploy and suddenly feels fat and dumb. - At dinner, however, his huge appetite is back. He packs away two complete meals and five desserts. Oops, I notice that his shirt has popped open (we sit in a private room). He blushes .. I console him by approvingly patting the soft flab that bulges out and calling him my hero - such a masterly eater, and he has gained more than promised! His answer is a proud and grateful smile. He says that eating has become such a delight for him. Then he gets serious. He wants to become a big, massive boy and asks me to fatten him further. It’s out of question for him that he will fatten himself up to 300 pounds by Christmas. Then he wants to double his starting weight to 360 by his 27th birthday at the latest, breaking 400 on his 28th and then … his voice trembles a little … reach the 500, and weigh a quarter of a ton! And finally … he swallows … eating himself into immobility. A bit uncertain, he looks at me and asks if I still love him when he gets so heavy and can’t easily move around anymore. I melt away and whisper to him that he can never be too fat for me!

He moves in

After graduation, he has an office job and moves in with me to live comfortably and eat without limit. Though his parents can no longer comment on his weight, he feels a bit uneasy to helplessly blow up (haha, that’s exactly what I want!). In mid-December though, still “underweight”, he undergoes a fattening diet. He eats tons, often taking naps in between the meals. He puts on well. And right, on Christmas, he weighs in at 300! He simply spends the days topless and proudly shows off his wobbling spare tire. I can’t help patting it ... he is thrilled and trustingly promises to pack on as much as he can. Ok! There is enough food for 4 persons, and the days become an epic feasting. He eats really masterfully. Almost the whole turkey, king-size meals, extra helpings, tons of cookies in between. Ok, he has to give up on the Christmas cake. He is so short of breath that I almost get the doctor. But he insists to try again the next day, and he gets better by the day ... Stuffed to bursting, helplessly gasping and unable to sit upright after the meals, he mostly spends the days on the couch. His huge belly bulges tremendously, and he moans relieved when I give him easing belly rubs. By New Year’s Day, he’s gotten so fat that he can hardly get the size 44 jeans over his voluminous butt, and he wears it officially open, as he can no longer button it. He asks shyly if I’m content with him. I can’t help moving my fat Christmas present to the bed and caress his moobs, his wobbling belly, his massive love handles and his immense butt, not to mention what we do with his thick thighs. I enjoy so much how he now gets out of breath when he gets aroused and clashes at me with his fat belly. When he notices, he whispers to me that he wants to get properly fatter for next Christmas. I can hardly say how much I love him.

In June, on the beach. Matt is a handsome 26 year-old with a solid 320. The manly beard on his cute face covers well his now chubby cheeks and his beginning double chin. It is a contrast to the soft, mighty roll of flab on his waist and his enormous ass. But people scoff at this fat guy .. he gets uneasy. Though still full from a mighty lunch, I order him an extra-large family portion of ice cream, and of course he can’t resist. But he is ungracious, accuses me of feeding him so fat, and refuses to eat. I feel bad. After a couple of days though, he comes around. He hugs me and when his fat belly presses against me, he whispers to me that he wants to get fatter than ever, no matter what people say. We seal it with an epic dinner; after all, he has to catch up.

No sports anymore

Next Christmas though, Matt is down to 310, and not happy. I cheer him up .. why not partly work from home, have more time for eating, and comfortably putting on another 40 by his birthday in September? He looks puzzled, but then he kisses me gratefully and promises to do everything to fulfill my wish. I ask Josh, a young feeder, a slim guy, to help me fatten Matt. Josh skillfully stimulates him and feeds him according to all rules of the art. It dawns on the good Matt that he is now being fattened according to plan ... and he willingly admits himself to his fate. I secretly enlarge his clothes, and we blindfold him when weighing him or checking his girth, so he doesn’t see how well he puts on. He helplessly tries to hide the heavy pounds on his middle. When friends tease him with his weight or his enormous appetite, he answers sheepishly that he likes to eat … but secretly he is proud and tries to stuff himself even more.

At the gym, when the trainer heard his thunderous steps, he weighed him and banished him from the treadmill because he had become too heavy. Though, to train him, we take his bike for a tour around town. He is so plump that I have to help him to get on it and go. He is not amused when I comment that next time we’ll need a hoist to get him up there. At the first uphill stretch, he gets out of breath and has to give up. We are turning back. He realizes that he has become just too fat and heavy for sports, and it’s with a feeling of loss. Josh skillfully distracts him by feeding him all the more fattening snacks. Matt never says no and eat to his limits and beyond, and the pounds keep piling on.

Doubled the weight

On Matt’s big day, we invite the pals of the gainer community to a BBQ. Matt’s belly presses against his shirt, and Josh asks him to take it off to show how properly he’s put on. It dawns on him why Josh had stuffed him to excess the last days. At the official weigh-in he is at … 361 pounds! He can hardly believe it, he has doubled his starting weight! And he is now the second heaviest of the pals and has shortened the gap to Pete, the undisputed gainer champion, to 30 pounds. While Matt is still puzzled, Josh calls for an eating contest! Matt is back in his element and, spurred on by Josh, finally manages a full dish more than Pete. Josh is so proud of his porker .. Matt is stuffed to the brim and looks on helplessly as Josh pats his soft fat roll and massive love handles and raves about how nice and fat he has become. “You have proven that you can eat more than Pete. There’s no question that you’ll be the fattest at your next birthday. . You'll only be dressed in boxer shorts, and we'll be amused by your corpulence and your wobbly fat. And then, we will have fun to chase you. You won’t get far with your weight. We will catch and tie our heavy, fattened pig. There’s a butcher to gauge your sumptuous bacon and to check if you are ready for slaughter.” Matt blushes hard. “I see you panic when he joyfully grinds his knife. You beg for your life, but as a ransom, you have to promise to eat as much as a whole family. We will check weekly if you get fat enough.”

The round gets quiet. I see it flash through Matt’s mind. It’s his dream coming true. To be helplessly fattened. To become a soft, massive boy. Being called fat ass. Seeing the numbers on the scale climb. All the more, to eat for a whole family in one meal and ask for an extra dessert. Not to stop eating, though it gets difficult to handle all the weight he’s put on. To eat himself fatter and fatter. Not being able to move and eventually getting immobile. – With breathy voice, he says: “I’m up to be fattened to the heaviest guy here ..”.

To make sure Matt stays healthy with his weight gain, I take him to a check-up. When the doctor weighs him and takes his measurements, he throws a disdainful look at his bulk. After a few squats (Matt only manages three), Matt lies on the patient couch, breathing heavily, and the doctor asks him how such a young guy can feed himself so fat. Matt feels like a fat pig led to the slaughterhouse and stammers that he has a healthy appetite, but the doctor urges him to lose weight .. He feels bad and loses his joy in eating.

It is only in late fall when he grabs his belly. “I’m way too thin”, he says, looking down. “We have a lot of catching up to do! You know I want to be 400 on my next birthday. I want to eat for three in the next time!” He is down to 325, so a lot to do ..

Growing

Josh moves in with us, and he takes Matt firmly in hand and feeds him all the food he loves. Heavy breakfasts, nutritious milkshakes, pre-lunch rolls with Nutella, pizza, tons of pasta, ice cream, cream cake, three-course menus and additional desserts. Matt whines that he feels like an eating machine - but at the next meal, he has again a greedy appetite. No wonder that he grows well. A thick layer of solid fat spreads over his body, and the dough roll on his waist becomes massive. At our BBQ’s, Matt is proud that he now eats more as Josh and I together. But Josh pushes him to eat another serving and stuffs him like a Christmas goose. Although Matt protests weakly, Josh still feeds him with plenty of cream cake. Matt holds his huge, bulging belly and whimpers softly. Josh knows no mercy, and we repeat this frequently. Matt gets a special recliner as he can't sit upright because of his stuffed belly. He now gains 4 pounds of weight per week and often grabs his voluminous waist in disbelief ... At the end of such a fattening evening, Josh grabs Matts immense soft fat roll and says lustfully: "Next time we grill the fat, soft bacon from this fattened guy". Matt becomes visibly nervous, but as full as he is and too heavy to get up, he just gasps helplessly. And the next day Josh crams the fat Matt again to the brim. He protests only weakly, and Josh relentlessly doubles the amount of cream cake. By the middle of the year, Matt has gained a good 40 pounds and is fatter than ever. Josh caresses Matt's massive belly and praises him for how unbelievably much he can eat now. The big, helplessly fattened Matt, full to bursting, gasps and is anxious that he will be stuffed like this again the next day, including cream cake ... He should be right. And Josh makes fun of making Matt drink a liter of melted ice cream, who is whimpering and pleading for mercy.

Matts parents are a bit concerned that their son is getting so enormously fat. They approve of me and our relationship, but of course they have no idea that I fatten Matt on purpose. He assures them that he will cut down .. knowing that this will never happen. - The next time we see them, Matt has again properly packed on and is a bit nervous. Though he eats almost nothing the 2 days before, they scold him for having gotten bigger again. At home, we take a deep breath. Matt is starving and eats a dinner big enough for three. I tease him that with such a diet, he will be even fatter the next time with his parents. Defiantly, he forces two more pieces of cream cake down .. Well, next time with his parents is his 28th birthday. Matt is fatter than ever at 387, and though he tries to suck in, the heavy pounds press against the shirt. When the parents ask what he weighs now, he says “350”. They look doubtful, but they seem to have resigned with his weight. At dinner, he eats two full three-course meals plus a couple of desserts without them commenting further. At home, I open his shirt, which now stretches dangerously at the waist, and massage his bulging belly. I tell him that his parents will always love him, no matter how fat he gets. He sighs .. but I'm right. Although he hardly can eat any more, I fatten him with cream cake, and he does his best before he falls asleep.

A massive boy

Matt’s appetite remains strong, and he is not in the least willing to stop eating. So to nobody’s surprise he comfortably passes 400. At such a weight, my athletic boy from a few years ago has now become big and massive. His enormous overhang starts having its own will. He feels it jiggle out of control with the slightest movement, and it often gets in his way. When he ties his laces, he struggles with the bulky fat roll, so he gasps and gets a red head from the exertion. He is much slower when moving around. Halfway on the stairs, he has to catch breath. Shopping clothes with him is a special pleasure. Seeing my fat boy being measured by the astonished salesmen, the struggle in the fitting room when he has to pull pants over his enormous butt, or the shirts don’t let them button over his huge stomach, then he gets out of breath and starts to sweat .. his clothes size has gone up to 4XL shirts and 56’’ waist jeans.

In bed though, we have incredible fun. We both enjoy his corpulence beyond description, the massive pillow of dough he wears in front of him, his bulky hip rolls, his thick thighs and especially his gigantic butt cheeks. With his weight, he is not so agile anymore. But I do all kinds of stuff with him, I move and shake him and make him pant, sweat and squeak with pleasure (I sweat also, with a guy more than twice my weight). The way his opulent fat jiggles out of control is incredibly arousing. The bed creaks at all joints under his weight .. Its heavenly! In the mornings afterwards, I reward him with a real big boys breakfast in bed .. when he is stuffed, I pat his fat cheeks and tease him that a good boy eats more and help him work down another piece of cake.

Can’t stop eating

Josh constantly seduces Matt with heavy snacks and fattens him properly up. A month before Matt’s birthday, he intensifies the fattening and feeds him beyond the limits. The brave Matt wonders why Josh takes him so hard, but with Josh’s help, he packs away incredible amounts of food and gets noticeably fatter by the week. And yes, Josh is content that Matt added an extra 14 pounds. He is fat enough for his birthday!

At his birthday BBQ, Josh makes the now very corpulent Matt appear in a boxer specially made for his enormous size. Josh shows him up like an award-winning fattening pig, making the gainer pals grab and pat his ample fat rolls and lets them guess what he weighs now. Matt is bashful and doesn’t know what to say. Then Josh puts him on the scales. Wow! At 434, he now weighs 14 pounds more than Pete- and no question that he finishes the eating contest as the absolute winner. Matt can hardly believe that he is now fatter than Pete and also the undisputed master in eating. The dethroned champion pays tribute to Matt for his record weight and his really gigantic appetite, however, he promises that he will have caught up with him again on his next birthday. Josh pinches lovingly in Matt's fat rolls and boasts that he will fatten him to a quarter ton by then. The fat Matt, pigged out and fatter than ever, becomes thoughtful. It dawns on him that there is no turning back. He is a bit anxious that he will be fattened even thicker, and wonders what his life will look like if he gets too fat to move. At the same time, however, it also arouses him, and so he surrenders to his fate.

Eating helps him soon to forget the cloudy thoughts. He breaks the magic 450 in fall and is in seventh heaven. Two and a half time his starting weight. Christmas sees him happy at an even fatter 460. As usual, he just spends it topless in a huge boxershorts, showing off his still perfect shape. Josh and I are thrilled when his enormous ass and the mountain of fat bulging over his pants wobble with every move or how his belly forms into a tremendous fat roll when he sits down, and how he has to breathe and start several times when he wants to get up. We make Christmas an epic feast again. Matt is stimulated and shows us proudly the gigantic masses that he can now eat. Josh and I are excited as his boxer pants get tight over the days and increasingly cut into his bacon. I ask him not to go out - butchers would be keen to catch this well-fattened guy and get to his juicy bacon.

And finally, on his birthday, he weighs in at 500. My goodness, a quarter ton man .. He looks back on the 5 years of our friendship, grateful that eating has become such a fulfilling passion for him. The additional 300 pounds he’s put on make him feel better and happier than ever, and he can’t wait to put on even more. He tries to get up to give me a kiss, but he is too heavy and drops back, the couch creaking dangerously and his bacon wobbling for seconds. He then tries to bend over for a hug, but he is too bulky and has to give up, heavily breathing now from the exertion. I kiss him and pat his abundant dough. I love this man ever more the more helpless he gets ..

At the birthday BBQ, we make a weigh-in (on a heavy-duty scale). Pete has really taken up the challenge and gained significant weight, but Matt outweighs him undisputedly by over 30 pounds now.

Life is however getting more and more difficult for Matt. It’s hard to find decent clothes to cover his bulk. He gets out of breath when he moves around. We have to help him get dressed, and he can’t bend down because of his belly. At work, he is so heavy and big that he needs a special chair, and his colleagues don’t stop teasing him with his weight .. the situation has become uncomfortable for him. OMG, my depressed boy .. I offer him to finally give up work and live a lazy, fat life. He looks at me, uncertain .. then sobs and whispers that this is what he has always dreamed of, and he is more than willing.

Fat life

Matt’s life is now fully devoted to eating. He often stays in bed. In the morning, he already starts with a nutritious breakfast which leaves him heavily breathing. In autumn, he weighs in at 545, and that means .. he has tripled his weight! He is now too fat to sit upright.

His 33rd birthday, at 612. Getting up has become a challenge for him. He gasps already when we help him sit on the edge of the bed. Josh and I help him to stand up .. one, two, three .. oops .. he falls back on the bed, it shakes dangerously .. he needs a minute .. next try ..one, two, three .. he stands .. he needs a moment to catch breath .. then he walks, and his whole body jiggles considerably .. Ok .. for this heroic deed, I reward him with cream cake, and he packs away 4 ½ pieces. Not content, he says he wants to manage 6 pieces in the next weeks ..

Getting immobile

After Christmas, at 660, we try to get him up, but he gasps like hell and his heart beats extremely, so we give up. We prescribe a strict slimming diet and exercise to our big boy (as far as possible at his weight). Well, he drops below 600, and mobility comes back well. But in December, he is unhappy .. he tells us he has lost a year now with fasting. He doesn’t live to starve, but wants to eat, eat and eat! Eat for a family of four in one meal! Well, we start a fattening diet again. Though the gains naturally go slower at his weight, in fall, he is content to weigh over 650 again.

On his 35th birthday, at 710 pounds, Matt starts to regularly stuff himself senseless .. it’s obvious, he wants to be so fat that he gets immobile. On Christmas, he reaches 750, and finally he is too heavy to get up. He is deeply content when we officially declare him immobile. He begs me to stay with him, to encourage him, to feed him fatter and heavier, and to help him with the daily life. I promise, and I do it with deepfelt love.

To be able to lift him up, we install a hoist over his bed, and we take care that he can be weighed this way also. He is proud every time we weigh him and he has gotten heavier, and we celebrate with a feast. He enjoys that he gasps now and sweats with the slightest move. He aims at breaking past 840 on his 37thbirthday, looking forward to weigh four times as much as the sporty guy I fell in love with, and being one of the fattest persons at all .. and to lead a life full of delicious food, making him ever bigger, fatter and heavier ..

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atlafan · 4 years

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Heal - One Shot

a/n: werewolffry is here!! I rewrote this like three different times because supernatural au’s are just not my thing, but I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. I didn’t research anything, I sort of just came up with my own lore, and based some of it off of the show Teen Wolf, but not by much. Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, I can’t wait to know what you think! I have some other Halloween requests, but keep them coming! I’m hoping to post one every week until Halloween. Enjoy! (not proofread)

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, smut (pegging)

Words: 14.8K

Harry, Niall, and Louis are all werewolves; it was that simple. What wasn’t simple was they were university students, trying to live regular lives. The three of them all came from different families, but these families had truces, so they were allowed to interact. Over the years, hunters had started breaking their codes, and wolf numbers were starting to dwindle, so many families were starting to extend their packs to keep everyone safe.

Harry’s family was probably one of the most important; they were healers. Healers were a rare and special breed of werewolf. They were basically the wizards of their kind. All werewolves had the ability to heal themselves, sure, and they could take the pain away from others, but healers had the ability to fix broken bones, extract bullets and close wounds without stiches, they had herbs and “potions” to help humans when they felt so inclined. They were pure, kind, and empathetic. Anne was the head, the matriarch, and Gemma was next in line. However, Harry, needed to be protected at all costs. Male healers…they were easily persuaded, and often got a little too attached to the people they mated with. The women were much more reserved, careful, so when Harry was in secondary school, and started dating…Anne had Gemma give him a little talk about the birds and the bees.

Now, there were no rules saying that wolves couldn’t date or mate with regular people. Because of the dwindling numbers over the years, many partners were being turned. It was essentially like going through the process of converting religions. There was some studying involved, some promises that needed to be made, and some understandings on both parties’ sides.

The boys had all grown up together, and they all learned how to fight and protect themselves, although, Harry hated fighting. As a healer, he had his qualms about hurting other people. He’d always feel bad if he accidentally hurt one of his trainers, rushing to their side immediately to help them. Louis, once a very free spirit, had become hardened after becoming the leader of his family’s pack. No one blamed him, his immediate family got murdered by hunters. Now all of his cousins and other family members looked to him for guidance. It was why he took a gap year before going to university. He also wanted to wait to be able to go with Harry and Niall. Anne was grateful that Louis would be watching over her son. Niall was great and all, but he could be a proper dolt in his own right. He was a skilled fighter, but that was about all he had going for him.

They were going into their second year, and this year they had a flat all to themselves. Being in the dorms…well, it was nothing short of a disaster. They were in a triple their first year, and that was just not enough space for three young werewolves. Now they all had their own rooms so they could do as they pleased. Harry was excited to start his new semester. There was a girl he enjoyed the scent of that worked at the bookstore café last year, and he hoped she would be returning. She was the only one that made his coffee correctly. Not that Harry was snooty, but he was practically royalty, so he had his moments where he acted a little spoiled. He wasn’t sure how someone could fuck up a small black coffee with a little butter in it, but if it wasn’t her who made it, it was fucked up. She was American, so he had no idea if she had just been studying abroad last semester or not.

As much as he frequented the bookstore café, he didn’t say more than his coffee order to her. It killed him. He wanted to flirt with her, tell her how good she smelled, and god, did she smell good. It’s what drew him into the café in the first place, the scent of honey and vanilla. He didn’t talk to her because he didn’t know her, he didn’t know her family. Anyone Harry dated in secondary school he had known his whole life. He knew if they came from a hunter or not. He wasn’t sure how things worked for werewolves in the states. He had no idea if the codes were different, and anytime he asked his mother about it she just told it was something he didn’t need to worry about. The girl seemed nice enough, but Gemma had explained to Harry long ago that male healers were gullible when it came to the people they wanted to mate with.

That’s not to say Harry didn’t mate…he mated often, but mostly with people he had no mental attachment to. He didn’t like the idea of not having a lot of control over his mind, so he stuck to random hook ups. At first he didn’t believe Gemma when she first explained everything to him once he hit puberty, but when he found himself in the woods one night with a rabbit in his teeth that he had killed for his regular girlfriend, he understood. He dropped it out of his mouth. “She’s not a werewolf, she won’t want that.” Gemma had said as she put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to please her, but this isn’t the way.” She had chuckled. His sister had laughed at him. He didn’t want to give her a reason to do that again. Granted, he was fifteen, and in puppy-love, but still.

He had learned to control himself, as did Niall and Louis, when it came to the people he was attracted to. He was cautious and observant, and perhaps would just admire from afar. Much to his delight, and surprise, as he was walking around campus with Niall and Louis before classes started, he saw the girl in the bookstore window helping put out inventory. Harry smiled to himself. Even if he was still too shy to get to know her, he could at least sleep peacefully knowing he’d be getting a decent cup of coffee.

Working at the university bookstore was an easy gig. Sure, once in a while Y/N would get a disgruntled student who wasn’t pleased about how expensive a book or a sweatshirt was, but other than that things were pleasant. She loved seeing prospective students and their excited families come in to buy their first piece of memorabilia. The bookstore also house a small café for students to grab some coffee and a pastry, and sometimes they’d stay to do some studying. Sometimes she was behind the bar making drinks, sometimes she’d be working the register, and other times she’d be in the back taking stock.

One of her favorite customers was a boy she barely knew, but had seen around campus plenty. His name was Harry, and he’d order a whipped black coffee with butter every morning. She didn’t work every morning, but any morning she was working, she’d make it for him. Or, that’s how it was last semester, anyways. She had no idea what year he was, he could have finished school last year for all she knew. Y/N chose to study abroad for the entirety of her college career. She had done some traveling in high school, and loved it. She felt way more independent going to school in England, and way more adult. She and her roommates had their own flat this year, and she was excited to really make the space her own. She was in a cramped dorm last year, so having her own room was a major step up.

It was syllabus week, but she was dreading her Calculus class. It was the last math class she needed, thank god. In her first year she had to take algebra, and then precalc. She was a biology student, so she needed Calculus. It was just a lot to balance with her other major courses. Taking bio, chem, and math classes all at the same time was a pain in the ass. Another pain in the ass was that there weren’t a ton of other girls in her classes. Just awkward boys who thought they were smarter than her. She can’t help her jaw from dropping when she sees Harry walk into the classroom. His eyes scan over his options and then widen when he sees her. He knew he smelt something good. He smirks when he sees her obviously flustered, and he walks over slowly to sit down next to her. He flashes her his award winning, shit eating grin, and takes a notebook out of his backpack. He could feel her heart racing, and he almost felt bad, but her heart did that every time he came into the bookstore café. At first he thought it just did that because she was busy, but he realized soon he just made her nervous. Another reason he didn’t say more than a few words to her, until today that is.

Harry turns slightly to look at her, resting his cheek on his fist. She does a double take and sees he’s looking at her. She furrows her brows at him.

“Sorry, you just look really familiar.” He says. “Don’t mean to stare.” He was trying to play it cool. He didn’t want to seem like a stalker.

“Oh! It’s okay, um, I…I work at the campus bookstore.”

“That’s right! You’re the girl who knows how to make my coffee. I think you’re the only one who works there that can do it right.” He sighs.

“It’s not difficult.” She mumbles. “Maybe it’s just the unusual order that throws the others off.”

“Adding butter to coffee isn’t that unusual.” He rolls his eyes. He was talking to her like they were old friends. Maybe in his mind they were. She blinks at him. “What?”

“Nothing…it’s just, well, this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me.” She blushes slightly and takes a pull from her water bottle.

“I could say the same thing to you, you know?” He smirks.

“I’m not the one with the intimidating eyebrows.” She points at his face. “You’re very serious looking.” She gives him a soft smile to let him know she’s only teasing and he smiles back.

“I’m a bit shy, nothing more to it than that. Promise I’m not some scary monster.” God, the irony could have killed him alone.

“Um, how come you’re in calc one? Like, what’s your major?”

“Art History.” She blinks at him again. “I’m an allied health minor, need stats and calc for that.”

“Oh!” She laughs. “Makes sense.”

“What about you?”

“Biology. This is the last math class I need, thank god.”

“Not a fan of math?”

“It’s not that I’m not, I’m just annoyed. I took calculus in high school, but I didn’t know about the math placement assessment last summer, so I had to start out in college algebra last fall. Big waste of time.” She sighs. “Art History and allied health, that’s an interesting combination.”

“Needed a backup, you know how parents can be.”

Truth be told, Harry would go off to be a doctor if he could, but he’d expose himself no doubt. People would catch on to him working “miracles”. It was the empath in him, he just wanted to help anyone and everyone. His mother allowed him the minor for a couple of reasons. One, to scratch his itch for wanting to help people, and two, to learn more about how the body worked so he could properly heal others.

“I totally get it.” She scoffs.

“What do you want to do with bio?”

“I haven’t quite figured out my specialization yet. I don’t think I want to be a doctor doing surgeries, maybe forensics? Working in a lab, that kind of stuff?”

“That’s noble work.” He smiles and she smiles back. “Are you working at the bookstore again this year?”

“Mhm.” She nods. “Sort of have to if I wanna afford things.” She chuckles.

“Cool, good to know I can still get my coffee how I like it.”

“Is that all I’m good for?”

His eyebrows raise as her lips curl up. Oh, she was flirting with him. He has to suppress every urge in his body to not just yank her out of the classroom and take her home with him.

“We’ll have to see how well you do in this class. You may also be good for tutoring.” He wasn’t bad at math, but maybe he could pretend to be if it meant they could start hanging out.

She rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She says as the professor walks in.

“Harry.” He whispers, and the class gets started.

Y/N bursts through her door later that day. Her roommates were getting lunch started.

“You’ll never guess what happened in calc! That hot guy that used to come into the café last year is in my class, and he sat next to me! He remembered who I was, and he remembered the way I make his coffee. I swear to god we were flirting, oh my fucking god!” She squeals and her friends giggle.

“Slow down, Y/N.” Talia says to her. “He’s just a guy.”

“But he’s not.” Y/N pouts. “He’s so fucking hot, and he seems really sweet.”

“It’s not a great idea to shit where you eat.” Georgie says. “I hooked up with a guy in one of my classes last year and it was super awkward.”

“Who said I was going to jump into bed with him?” Y/N scoffs. “Maybe I just wanna be his friend.” She shrugs and grabs a cheese stick out of the fridge.

“Mhm, a friend who you’d like to bone.” Talia smirks.

“Well…it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. He’s so handsome…he probably sees lots of girls. Although, I’m pretty sure if he snapped his fingers I’d take my pants off for him.”

All of the girls laugh as they eat. This semester would be interesting to say the least.

Harry started chatting up Y/N in class after that first day, and he went to the bookstore café every time she worked. Even if he wasn’t in the mood for a coffee, he’d pretend like he was, but it didn’t go much deeper than that. His life was complex, and he had to be careful about who he brought into it.

As he got older, Harry realized he had the ability to shift completely into a wolf, but only on full moons. All werewolves could do this, they just needed to reach a level of maturity to do so, and it was extremely dangerous because if they stayed like that for too long, it was difficult to shift back. However, Harry enjoyed going out on the full moon and just running around it his heart’s desire. It also served to satisfy many of his primal instincts. He could go out and kill a small animal, eat, and feel zero remorse about it. The catch was you had to be naked before shifting, and you’d shift back naked, so you had to leave yourself clothes. Niall thought it would be funny to steal Harry’s clothes after he shifted back.

It was extremely early in the morning, and Harry was standing in the middle of the woods naked. Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, he could just hop from tree to tree, and get back unnoticed, but he found himself in a well-traveled runner’s path. Plus, he was tired from a night out of wolfing it up, so excuse him for not being thrilled with Niall’s prank. He had learned to control his body temperature, so it’s not like he was cold, he was just annoyed. He needed to listen carefully to every little thing. From afar he hears music and someone breathing heavily. Normally he wouldn’t be so phased, but the scent was familiar. Harry freezes when he realized it’s Y/N, so he quickly hides behind a tree. If she was ever going to see him naked it wouldn’t be like this.

Her music wasn’t up terribly loud, she wasn’t an idiot. Running alone early in the morning meant she couldn’t just zone out, no, she needed to be aware of her surroundings. However, it was fall and she was running in a wooded area, so she strips over a hidden tree root. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but it catches her ankle the wrong way, and Harry can feel the ligaments snapping. He winces for her. That wasn’t even the worst of it. Because of the way she twisted as she fell, her head knocked into the stump of the tree, and it knocked her out.

“Shit.” Harry says to himself as he peers at her limp body.

He had a couple of options. He could easily pretend he didn’t see what happened, and continue to get home unnoticed and let someone else find her, or he could go over there, pick her up, and take her to his place to heal her. He goes with the latter, physically not being able to just leave her. He looks around to make sure no one else was coming, and he strolls over to her. He kneels beside her, putting his palm over her forehead to make sure she was really knocked out. He didn’t want to startle her if she woke up. Something about seeing a naked man over your unconscious body…it probably work out well for him. He closes his eyes for a moment, just to take a little of her pain away, then he hoists her up, carrying her bridal style. He takes a deep breath, his eyes glow red, and then he sprints through the trees back to his flat.

“Took you long enough, what did you do, take extra-long to make me feel bad?” Niall says as he opens the front door. His eyes widen when he sees Harry carrying the girl.

“Got a bit side tracked.” He grunts as he walks in.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” He scoffs. “She tripped, and got hurt. I need to take her up to my room to help her. Where’s Lou?”

“He went to the market, we were low on groceries.”

“Good, keep him occupied when he gets back. I don’t think he’d be terribly happy about this.”

Niall nods as Harry carries Y/N up the stairs. He lays her down gentle on his bed, and her eyes flutter open some as he walks to his dresser. She thinks she dreaming because she can faintly see a man’s ass, a perfect ass might she add, and then her eyes rolls back into her head, passing out yet again. Harry grabs some things from his closet, namely a first aid kit. He starts with her ankle. He wraps his large hand around it, taking her pain away. He couldn’t take it all, and he couldn’t fully heal her. That would be too suspicious. He’d need to leave her in a little bit of pain. He heals her ligaments, though, and leaves it to make it feel like she may have just twisted it the wrong way. He wraps a makeshift splint on her for show, and then he moves to her poor head. She had an egg growing out of it, so he takes a deep breath and pops it back in with his thumb. He rubs his palm over her skull to feel around for the potential of a concussion, but he doesn’t feel anything that serious. She’d have a headache at most so he gets up and grabs a water bottle from the case in his closet, and a couple of aspirin from the first aid kit. Since he’s dressed now, and she’s mostly better, he feels like he can wake her up now. He nudges her shoulder gently, and her eyes flutter back open. She flinches when she sees him.

“H-Harry?” She sits up, and winces, grabbing at her ankle. “What’s going on?” She whimpers, and he thinks it’s about the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Her bottom lip slightly jutting out as she assesses herself.

“I was going for a run this morning, uh, the same path you were on I’m assuming, and I saw you trip. You hit your head pretty hard, so I carried you back here, I hope that’s alright.”

“You…you carried me all that way?”

“You’re not exactly heavy.” He mutters, and her cheeks grow red. “Here, uh, do you want some aspirin?”

“Yeah, thanks.” She takes the two pills out of his palm and the water bottle. “My head really hurts.” She looks down at her ankle. “Do you make this splint?”

“I didn’t know if you twisted it or sprained it, so I thought it would be good as a precautionary measure. I think you caught it on a tree root.”

“I’m usually a lot more careful than that…I’m sorry if I troubled you, or ruined your run.”

“You didn’t.” He smiles. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Y/N.”

She gazes at him. Before she can speak his door flies open.

“Harry.” Louis says. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hey, mate, thanks for knocking.” Harry grits his teeth.

“I need to speak with you and Niall, so take your friend home, now.” He leaves and slams the door shut. Harry sighs heavily and looks at her.

“Sorry about him, he, uh, gets uptight about house rules. Niall probably left the milk out overnight or something.” Harry shrugs. He could feel her worry radiating off her.

“It’s okay…you don’t have to take me home I should be able to make it.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed, and uses his shoulder to help her stand. She winces once her bad foot hits the ground.

“It’s really no problem. I’d feel better knowing you got back okay.”

“You’ve done enough, Harry.” She winces again as she takes a step. Maybe he should have taken more of her pain away. Now he feels guilty.

“I could give you a piggy back ride.” Her eyebrows raise at him. “Would you like that?” He chuckles.

“I…you’d really carry me all the way to my apartment?”

“It’s a flat, darling, we’re not in America.” He rolls his eyes and her face flushes at the term of endearment used so condescendingly. “And yeah, I’d carry you. I bet you’re not even that far away, c’mon.” He wraps his arm around her wrist to get her to stand behind him as he squats. She climbs onto his broad back and he lifts her effortlessly. “Light as a feather, you are. Now, where do you live?” He asks as he takes her out of his room and down the stairs.

“24D…Pine Street.”

“Pine’s barely a block away from here.” He looks over his shoulder and smiles at her on the way out.

“Won’t we look funny like this?” She nearly whispers as he carries her down the street.

“Nah, we probably just look like a proper couple. I’ve got no problem with that…do you?”

“No.” She rests her chin on his shoulder. She inhales some of his cologne and she likes what she smells. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but he just smelled really good to her. “You’re a proper cutie, Harry.”

“Look at you using our slang.” He chuckles. “I am pretty cute, huh?”

“Try being humble, hm?” She nudges the top of his head and it makes him laugh.

His grip on her tightens when they reach the front steps of her flat.

“Hand me your key.”

“I can make it from here.”

“I have to make sure you get inside okay.”

“I will, Harry. I…I’d like to run myself a bath, and I don’t need you there for that.”

“You don’t? Too bad, I’m an excellent bath buddy.”

“Put me down.” She says with a shaky voice, and he smirks. He gently lets her down to her feet and he turns to look at her. “Thank you for being so kind…”

“Do you often run alone?”

“Yeah, my roommates don’t really like it. I don’t blame them, running’s the actual worst, but I don’t really like lifting weights much, so it’s the lesser of two evils for me.”

“Text me sometime, I’d go running with you.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to her.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “We could be two proper cuties out running together.”

“Mhm, okay.” She scoffs as she puts her number in his phone and texts herself. She hands it back to him.

“I mean it, you’re very cute.” She rolls her eyes at him. “You are! Especially in calc when your brows are all furrowed when you’re concentrating.” He steps a little closer to her. “You get this very serious pout on your face, it’s adorable.”

“Why…why are you watching me in class, and not paying attention?”

“You’re distracting.” It wasn’t a lie, and it wasn’t meant to be sexist. He wasn’t a little boy getting a stuffy from a bra strap, but she always smelled so good, and anytime she moved he’d get a fresh whiff of her. She looks down at her tattered sneakers and then back to him. She felt like she could easily get lost in his eyes. “Will you let me know later how you’re feeling?”

“Yes.” He nods at that and starts walks down her steps as she keys into her flat. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m…working later if you wanna come by the café.”

He grins at her and turns to keep walking. She takes a deep breath as she gets inside. She had a lot of squealing to do with her roommates.

“Tell me again why you thought it would be a good idea to leave Harry, of all people, in the woods naked? I know you’re bored because you’re not allowed to be on the football team, I’m bored too, but that doesn’t mean you can prank him like that.” Louis was scary when he got mad at the boys. He didn’t yell, but you could hear the clear disappointment in his voice, and that was ten times worse. “Well? I’m waiting for an answer, Niall.”

“I guess I wasn’t really thinking.” He mumbles as he sits with Harry on the couch. The two of them looked like little puppies being scolded for shitting on the rug.

“No, you weren’t.” Louis huffs. “And you.” He looks at Harry. “You thought helping a girl, while naked, was an equally good idea?”

“I couldn’t just leave her there!”

“I know you couldn’t.” Louis sighs. “You just shouldn’t have been left alone. We’ve been lucky at this school so far, I’d like to keep things as easy going as they are. You brought a total stranger here.”

“She’s not a total stranger.” Harry mumbles as he twiddles his thumbs. “She’s that girl I’ve been crushing on from the bookstore, and she also happens to be in my calc class…so I know her.”

“We don’t know if she’s harmless or not.” Louis says.

“Looked pretty harmless when Harry carried her in like a limp noodle.” Niall chuckles, and Louis shoots daggers at him, getting him to shut up.

“Did she question anything?” Louis asks.

“No…I didn’t heal her fully so she wouldn’t be suspicious.” He runs a hand through her hair. “I had to help her, she smells to fucking good to not help.”

“You’ve mentioned that a couple of times, but I’m not smelling it.” Niall says. “Smells like any other regular person.”

“It’s because he likes her. You know how it is for us, we really like the way a person smells when we really like them. It proves the attraction.” Louis sits down on the coffee table in front of them.

“And I know she likes me back.” Harry says proudly.

“Yeah? How?” Niall inquires.

“Well, not only did she tell me I was cute, but she gets aroused around me all the time, especially today when I took her home. I could smell it. I’ve been trying to be careful and not act on anything, but I don’t think I can do that anymore.”

“No one ever said you couldn’t date.” Louis says. “You just need to be careful. You know how easily you lot can get attached.”

“I’m fully aware.” Harry rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t be going out into the woods to fetch her a dead rabbit.”

Harry started coming by the bookstore even more after that. Y/N had told her friends what happened, that basically Harry was her knight in shining armor. She got excited every time he’d walk into the bookstore. Even if it wasn’t a shift where she was making coffee, she’d make his for him. A flirty friendship had started to form between the two of them. Sometimes he’d come at the end of her shift so he could walk her home, or they’d go grab a bite to eat. She wondered why the most they had done is hold hands, but she didn’t mind that he was taking things slow with her, it was actually a breath of fresh air. And the antics they’d get into in class…he’d pass her notes, actual notes! Sometimes they’d do homework together too. He was slowly swallowing her whole, and she didn’t mind one bit.

“Hello, love.” He says to her as her shift is ending.

“Hi, Harry.” She smiles. “How was your day?”

“Good, better now.” He sighs with a smile and she blushes.

“I just need to take care of some things in the back, and change.”

“Alright, I thought you could come over for a movie tonight. I could order us some food and we can just hang out.”

“I’d like that.” She smiles and goes into the backroom. About ten minutes later she comes out good to go. “Could we watch something with a Halloween vibe? Nothing too scary, of course.”

“Sure.” He loops his arm through hers and she giggles as they leave the bookstore. “You’re into Halloween and all that?”

“Into it? I love it! We decorated our flat yesterday with a ton of Halloween stuff. You’re not a fan?”

“No, I don’t mind it.” He shrugs. “Just think people can get carried away with their costumes sometimes.”

“I agree, some people ruin it for everyone else. I don’t like the scary aspects of it, like, you won’t catch me at a haunted house.”

“Oh, but I’d protect you, Y/N.” He smiles down at her and she blushes.

He gets her inside and he tells her to go up to his room, and to get comfortable. Louis always preferred if they hung out that Harry brought her over, so she was no stranger to their place now. He grabs some menus from the kitchen and meets her upstairs.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks her. “Chinese, Italian…?” He furrows his brows at the menus as he looks over his options.

“You pick, I’m fine with whatever.” She says.

“Chinese then, do you like dumplings and stuff like that?”

“Yup.”

“Brilliant.” He sits down next to her and grabs his laptop so he can order everything online. He sets it on his desk, and turns his TV on. He sits up against his headboard and so does she. “Here.” He hands her the remote. “You can pick the movie, babe.”

Her heart fluttered every time he called her that. It was just like any other term of endearment, but she still really liked it.

“Hmm…” She flips on Netflix to look over her options. “Oh! What about Teen Wolf, the old one with Michael J. Fox?”

“Uh, that’s a little unrealistic, don’t you think?”

“Well…duh, it’s about a werewolf.” She scoffs. “The whole thing is unrealistic.”

“I just mean, um, oh, look…Hocus Pocus, now that’s a classic.”

“You’re absolutely right. Way better choice.” She hits play and he sighs with relief. “Besides, the show Teen Wolf is way better. I mean, the first two to three seasons were good, and then it just got really bad, but it was still fun.”

“Are you, like, a wolf fanatic or something?”

“No.” She laughs. “It was on MTV when I was younger and it was fun to watch.” She shrugs and looks up at him. “Don’t worry, I think you’re much cuter than the actors on the show.”

“You do, huh?” He puts an arm around her and she cozies up to him. “Good to know.”

She lets her arm fall on his waist as she gets comfortable, and her leg even goes over one of his. It was a proper Netflix & Chill and neither of them had any problem with it. About thirty minutes into the movie, there’s a knock on the door downstairs.

“That’s our food, I’ll be right back.” He pauses the movie and gets up.

“Do you wanna eat downstairs? I’d feel bad about making a mess up here.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s fine.” He chuckles and goes downstairs. He returns shortly with the food. “Alright, I got dumplings, sushi, egg rolls, rice, noodles, and veggies.”

“It smells so good.” She licks her lips and opens the sushi first, popping a piece into her mouth. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“The dumplings.” He mutters as he bites into one.

Eating a dumpling satisfied the more primal side of Harry. It was plump and juicy, like a small animal that he might be ravenous for on a full moon while he’s shifted.

“I like them a lot too.” She takes one and bites into it. She grabs a napkin to dab the corners of her mouth. “Mm, so good.”

“Want some water?”

“Please.”

He grabs her a bottle from the case he keeps in his closet. They eat a bit more while watching the movie, and then Harry puts everything away downstairs so they can go back to cuddling. He pops a piece of gum into his mouth, and offers her some as well.

“We’re gonna have a Halloween party, by the way.” She says to him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, would you maybe wanna come? Niall and Louis can come too.”

“We usually lay low on Halloween…lot of freaks come out that night, you know?”

“Please?” She pouts. “I have a really cute costume planned, and I want you to see it.”

“What is it?” He blushes.

“I can’t give it away, then you won’t be surprised.” She boops his nose and he smiles.

“I’ll…I’ll ask them to see if they wanna go.”

“Great.” In a bold move she kisses his cheek. His eyes widen as he looks at her.

“C’mere.” He says, and pulls her onto his lap. She straddles him and wraps her arms around his neck. “I like you a lot, you know that, right?” He tucks some hair behind her ear.

“I think so.” She says shyly. “I like you a lot too, Harry.”

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods yes, and he cups her cheek with one of his hands while the other grips her hip. He presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter closed. Her hands slide into his hair and he tugs her closer. His fingers dig into the skin between her shirt and pants. Their lips move along each other’s. Her lips were so incredibly soft, he just want to-

“Mmph!” She grunts as he bites down on her bottom lip and sucks on it.

Harry had learned a lot of restraint over the years, so he didn’t need to worry about his teeth growing sharper or his nails growing longer, or even shifting slightly. He just needed to keep his breathing steady. She seems to like what he’s doing because she doesn’t tell him to stop. In fact, she rolls her hips down on his and tugs at his hair harder. She opens her mouth slightly, and he takes it as a signal that he can lick into her. His tongue swirls around hers, and she moans again. Her breasts press against his chest, and she continues to grind against him.

She tugs his head back to get some air and she moves to kiss on his neck. She mouths and licks over the area just under his earlobe, and his hands squeeze at her hips.

“Y/N.” He breathes. “It’s getting late, do you wanna spend the night?” She pauses her actions and nods yes against his neck, causing him to chuckle.

“What, um…” She moves to look at him. “What do you feel like doing? Do you wanna stop?”

“Do you?”

“N-no, but I feel like we should. I really do like you, and I don’t wanna mess anything up by moving too fast.”

“I feel the same way.” He smiles. “Want something of mine to wear to sleep?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. He pecks her lips again before she moves off him.

Harry grabs her a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. He also gets her a spare tooth brush, and off to the bathroom she goes. She gasps when she sees Louis waiting in the hallway when she’s done.

“Spending the night, pet?” He asks her.

“Y-yeah, is that alright?”

“Course it is.” He smiles. “You know you’re welcome here.”

“Thanks, well, goodnight.” She smiles and makes her way back to Harry’s room.

“I knew you’d look cute in my clothes, but wow.” He blushes.

“Oh.” She blushes too. “Thanks.” She looks him up and down. “You’re gonna wear sweats to bed?”

“I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Don’t be silly, you’ll sweat buckets if you stay like that. Sleep how you normally do.” She says as she slips into his bed.

“Can’t do that…”

“Why not?”

“Because I usually sleep naked.”

“M-maybe just your boxers?”

“You’d be okay with that?” She nods yes at him. “I’m just gonna go use the loo. I’ll be back.” Harry washes up quickly, and then turns the light off when he comes back in. He takes his clothes off, staying in his boxers, and then he gets into bed with Y/N. “Did you let the girls know you’re staying here?”

“Mhm.”

They both slide down and face each other. He slots a leg between hers and rubs at her side and back. Harry really liked being petted on, so he figured other people did too. He never got any complaints, anyways. She sighs slightly and moves closer to him. She nuzzles her face into his chest and she realizes it’s bare. It was pitch black in the room, so she couldn’t see any of his tattoos. He pets on her until she falls asleep. His eyes flutter closed, and he falls asleep holding her.

The next morning Y/N wakes up with an immense amount of pressure on her bladder. She was laying on her back, she never slept like that, and she couldn’t physically see Harry. She hears snoring from under the covers, so she pulls the blankets back to see Harry’s head in her lap, and his body wrapped around the rest of hers. It was a little bizarre, but not the weirdest way she had ever woken up with someone. She doesn’t want to startle him so she runs her fingers through his hair and scratches at his head. His hold on her thigh tightens and his eyes flutter open. He looks up at her dreamily, like a puppy, and then he flinches when he realizes his head is in her crotch.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” He says as he sits up and knuckles at his eyes. “I have zero idea how I ended up like that.” A lie, but he couldn’t very well tell her the truth.

“It’s okay! I just really need to pee.” She giggles and climbs over him to get up. “Be back in a second.”

Harry takes a deep, and gets dressed in some joggers and a sweatshirt as he waits for her. She comes back in, feeling much fresher, and smiles at him. Harry uses the bathroom next and walks in on her just getting her clothes back on.

“Do you mind if I keep the boxers?” She says as she zips up her jeans. “Men’s underwear is so much more comfortable.”

“Consider them yours.” He smiles and wraps his arms around her waist. She presses her hands to his chest. “I’m glad you stayed over. Can I make you breakfast?”

“I’d like that, but I have to get back to my place so I can shower before my shift in a couple of hours.” She bites her bottom lip. “But another time for sure.”

Harry nods, and walks her down the stairs to the front door. She kisses him goodbye, and he watches her walk away. He desperately wanted to go to her Halloween party, but he knew it would be tough convincing Louis.

“Hey.” Harry stands in Louis’ bedroom doorway.

“How was your night?”

“Good, Y/N just left.” Louis nods at that. “She invited us all to a party at the end of the month.” He mumbles.

“Oh, yeah? That was nice of her. When exactly?”

“Halloween.”

“Very funny.”

“C’mon, Lou, what better night of the year to blend in.”

“The hunters could be feeling the same exact way, Harry!”

“It’s not like we’d be party hopping.” Harry whines. “We could go, make an appearance, and then leave.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Niall chimes in as he heard the conversation. “We could wear costumes that have masks or face coverings so we’re not as obvious.”

“What do you propose?” Louis asks. “The three fucking musketeers? The Justice League?”

“Well, we’d all look fabulous in spandex, so I’d be cool with that.” Harry smirks.

“No.” Louis shakes his head. “I’ll need to be able to see your faces. I’ll go as David Beckham.”

“Wait, you’re serious….we can go?!” Harry asks excitedly.

“We could use some fun.” Louis sighs. “And I know you really like this girl, and we’ve all started to trust her. She’s no threat. We can go for an hour, at the beginning of the night, and then we’re out of there.”

“Thank you!” Harry throws his arms around his friend. “I can’t wait to tell her.”

“Is she your girlfriend now?” Niall asks.

“I don’t know what we are. We only made out last night, I didn’t wanna take it too far in case I lost control. I didn’t think I would, but I could tell I was really fighting to keep my teeth from shifting. She smells so fucking good, I woke up with my head in her lap.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I feel really comfortable around her, you know?”

“Could you not be so stereotypical?” Louis smirks.

“Yeah, it’s literally puppy love.” Niall chuckles.

“Don’t make fun of me.” Harry pouts. “She doesn’t know that I know, but she sprinkles a little cinnamon into my coffee, literally giving me a treat. I’ll gladly be her puppy.”

Louis dresses as David Beckham, Niall dresses as a basketball player, and Harry dresses as Zorro, but without the mask, Louis wouldn’t let him. They all walk in, and plenty of people are there already. Harry scans the room and his jaw drops. Y/N was standing in front of a tapestry on the wall taking pictures with her roommates. The three of them were dressed like bunnies, classic 1960’s playboy bunnies. His mouth waters, she looked good enough to eat.

“How nice of her to dress as your favorite snack.” Louis nudges him. “Have fun.”

Y/N giggles as she looks at that photos. She turns in Harry’s direction and beams at him. They make their way to each other through the crowd of people.

“You made it!” She throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek, leaving a nice, red lipstick mark behind. “You look so hot like this.” She looks him up and down. “Doesn’t Zorro wear a mask?”

“Lou wanted to be able to find me easily.” He smiles nervously. “And…if anyone looks hot it’s you, I…this is the last thing I’d expect you to be wearing.”

“They were on sale at the costume store.” She blushes. “And the accessories were easy enough to find. We figured it would be fine to dress a little skimpier since we’re not leaving here.”

He circles around her, like he was checking out his prey, and he nearly loses it at the sight of the cotton tail at the base of her spine, never mind how perfect her ass looks with the nylons she’s wearing. He thinks of the thong she must be wearing.

“You’re not even revealing that much.” He clears his throat. “Still plenty left to the imagination.”

“Mm, well…” She tugs at the open collar of his shirt. “Hopefully not for long.” She says against his lips and then backs away. She smirks and walks away from him as his mouth falls open. He was a little shocked she’d deprive him of a kiss.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He walks after her.

“I need to mingle with all my guests, and be a good hostess, don’t I?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Go on and have something to drink, Zorro.” She winks at him.

“Sure thing, Bunny Rabbit.”

She giggles and continues to walk away from him. Harry didn’t want to seem clingy, so he lets her go about the party, being a good little hostess with her roommates. He, Niall, and Louis all sip on the same drink to keep up appearances. Alcohol and drugs had zero effect on them, which at times was extremely annoying, but for the most part it was fine. They needed to keep their wits about them anyways. Y/N eventually finds her way to Harry, keeping her arm snaked around his waist. She felt special to have him as her guest. He was so fucking handsome, and she knew there were people looking at him, wishing they were the ones standing with him. His arm was draped around her shoulders, his thumb rubbing at her bare shoulder. She almost wanted to pull him upstairs, but she wasn’t the type to do that at a party. No, it could wait until everyone left, when they’d have a little more privacy.

“Hey.” She says to him, and he looks down at her. “I need to go use the ladies room, could you hold onto my drink?”

“Course, love.” He kisses her temple and off she goes with her heart fluttering.

After she’s done in the bathroom, which takes ten fucking minutes because the costume was impossible to get on and off, she makes her way through the party. She gets the distinctive whiff of weed coming from outside. She groans, and steps out and sees a group of people passing a blunt around.

“Guys, not to be a party pooper, but you can’t do that here…”

The group makes an annoyed noise, but they listen to her. Suddenly, she’s alone outside, and she realizes how fucking cold it was. She shivers, and moves to go back inside…

“Talia, have you seen Y/N?” Harry asks her. “She went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago, but she’s not in there now.”

“How do you know?” Talia slurs.

“Because Niall just fucked some girl in the bathroom, that’s how I know.” Harry says bluntly.

“Oh, then I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe she went up to her room. You can go check if you want, she’s been dying to get you alone in there all night.”

“She has?” He perks up.

“Duh.” She rolls her eyes. “She’s crazy about you, mate.” She walks away from him.

Concern washes over his face because he knows she’s not in the building. He’d be able to feel her heart, he’d be able to smell her, but he can’t. He finds a freshly fucked Niall, and Louis and tugs them both into a corner.

“I think something’s happened to Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” Louis says.

“She’s not here anymore. She wouldn’t have just left without telling me, she had me hold her drink…she clearly thought she was coming right back.”

“I can feel how worried you are.” Niall sighs. “Do you think she might have gone outside for any reason?”

“No idea, but we could check it out.” Harry says, and they all make their way through the flat, and out the back door. All of their eyes glow red so they can see outside better. Harry takes a whiff, and his head snaps to the left. “Over there, there’s something…an object…” He runs towards it and the boys follow. It was one of he her heels. “Oh, no.” He picks it up and nearly wants to cry.

“Don’t worry, Harry, we’ll find her.” Louis takes the shoe and sniffs it to get her scent, as does Niall. “Hunters may have taken her to get to you, so we need to be smart about this. No fucking around, and no full shifting. Claws and fangs at best.”

“I don’t understand hunters.” Niall says. “If they just got to know us they’d see we’re not dangerous in the slightest.”

“We used to be.” Harry says. “But you can brush up on your history later, right now there’s a girl in the woods dressed like a bunny that we need to go rescue. Poor thing’s probably freezing.”

There Y/N was, cold, annoyed, and tied to a tree. She had tried to scream, but someone put their hand over her mouth. They dragged her out into the woods, and she lost one of her shoes. They were awfully expensive too. There were a few people with guns standing near her, and two others pacing around. She had zero idea what they wanted with her. She had cried out of fear, but she was quiet now.

“C-could I at least have a sweater or a blanket? F-fucking freezing out here.” She stutters through her sentence. “Not exactly dr-dressed for this sort of thing.”

“Be quiet, or we’ll gag you.” A man with a gruff voice says to her.

“G-gonna have to buy me d-dinner first if you wanna do that.” She musters up the energy to smirk, and a woman comes over to her with duct tape. She slaps it over her mouth.

“There.” The woman says. “Keep warm with that.”

Y/N tries wiggling her toes and fingers to keep her circulation going. It was only a matter of time until hypothermia would kick in, and she knew that.

“Where are they, hm? Bumbling idiots.” A man says to the woman.

“Maybe Harry doesn’t care about the bitch as much as we thought.” The woman shrugs.

Harry growls lowly when he hears that. He, Louis, and Niall had found the spot the hunters were keeping Y/N easily.

“How many total?” Harry asks.

“Ten.” Louis says. “Keep your emotions at bay. They may be willing to kill, but we can’t do that. Niall and I will knock out as many as we can, and then call for backup. You focus on getting Y/N out of there. Bring her back to our place, and give her something to fall asleep. Then in the morning tell her she was drunk and had a bad dream.”

Harry nods. All of their teeth and claws were out, but nothing more. He knew he had to look scary like this, but he couldn’t worry about it right now. The girl who he was seriously falling for was tied to a fucking tree. Her shoe fell off, but her bunny ears had managed to stay on, although they were a little dented now. The three take a deep breath, and jump up nimbly into the trees. Harry slips down the tree she’s tied to, and cuts through the ropes easily with his claws.

She looks down at herself as she feels the ropes loosen, but she stays put not wanting to bring attention to herself. Y/N sees two figures moves swiftly, knocking the various people around her over. They evade the bullets being shot at them (the guns have silencers). She has no idea what’s happening. The men around her suddenly fall, and she gasps. A figure with a broad back picks them up effortlessly and tosses them into a pile of other people. He turns to look at Y/N and her eyes widen.

“I’ll explain everything later, I promise.” His voice was deeper, and she felt sedated. “Need to get you out of here, trust me?” She nods quickly, and he wastes no time picking her up bridal style, he claws digging into the meat of her thigh, and he jumps up in the trees.

She felt like she was on a roller coaster ride as she clings to him. She didn’t know a person could move so fast, but clearly Harry wasn’t an ordinary person. He was a thing she had only seen on TV or read myths about. Once he gets her inside his flat, he retracts his fangs and claws, and his eyes turn green once more. He carries her up to his bathroom and sets her down on the sink counter.

“This is probably gonna hurt.” He says as he starts to tug on the tape covering her mouth. She nods and closes her eyes. She squeaks out a noise as he rips it off. “Took it like a champ, babe.” He rubs his hands up and down her arms and shoulders.

“Been getting my lip waxed for years, that was nothing.” She breathes.

He looks her up and down. Her nylons were all ripped up, and she had dirt all over her. Did they fucking drag her? He growls angrily just thinking about it.

“I found your other shoe.” He takes it out of his pocket, and she nearly melts. “Did they hurt you?”

“They dragged me through the woods, and slammed me against the tree when they tied me up.” She pouts. “Almost knocked the wind out of me, but I’m okay.”

“I can make you feel better.” He cups her cheek. “But I need to draw you a bath in order to do it. You’re freezing anyways, so it’s a good idea all around.” He moves to turn the water on, and he grabs some bottles from the linen closet.

“Harry…”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look at her as he sprinkles whatever’s in the bottles into the warm water.

“Who were they? What did they want with you?”

“They either wanted to kill me, or take me as a prisoner.” He turns to look at her. He takes his jacket and shirt off, and her eyes widen. “M’not getting in with you, I just need to mix it all together once the tub’s full, and I don’t wanna get my clothes soaked.” He defends himself.

“No, I just…you have so many tattoos. I didn’t notice it the other night when we slept.”

“It’s really not a lot, Lou has way more.” He bends down to take her other heel off, and he puts the shoes together neatly on the floor. He stands back up and grabs at the bunny ears. “You’ll wear these again for me sometime, yeah? Be a shame if you didn’t.” She nods at him and he sets them down on the counter. “Good, bunnies are my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?”

“Snack.” He says as he grips her hips, helping her hop off the counter.

“Right.” She swallows, and her eyes rim with tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he turns the water off in the tub and starts mixing everything.

“Are…are you going to kill me?”

“Now, why would I offer to make you feel better and then turn around and kill you?”

“I don’t know! Nothing’s exactly clear, Harry!”

“Okay, be cool, yeah?” He stands up straight. “There’s no reason to freak out.”

“No reason to freak out?! I was just taken from my own home, tied to a fucking tree, and then you come and you have these big teeth and these talons, and…shit, I need to text my roommates and let them know I’m okay. Or, maybe that I’m not okay…”

“They’re claws, not talons. I’m not a bloody chicken.”

“What are you then, hm?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“I’m a person, same as you.”

“My eyes don’t glow red, Harry.”

“They could, maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.” She makes an exasperated noise at him, and motions that she’s going to leave. “Okay, okay…I…I’m a werewolf. I was born this way, I wasn’t turned, but a lot of us these days are. The hunters want me because I’m a healer, and I come from a family of healers. They must have caught wind that I go to school here, and they must have noticed that we’ve been hanging out so…to get to me they took you. I feel absolutely terrible about it because the last thing I would ever want to do is put you in any danger. It’s why I barely spoke to you last year. I didn’t want you getting dragged into all this, and here you are now…literally being dragged into it.” He huffs.

“Great, so now I can add bestiality to the list of things that are wrong with me.” She shakes her head, more so saying it to herself. She looks at him. “I’m in a lot of pain, so I’m going to disregard a lot of what you just said, I’m going to not ask any more questions, and I’m going to chalk this up to being an extremely elaborate Halloween prank or something.”

“It’s not a prank, Y/N. I know it’s a lot to take in, I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head. “And being with a werewolf doesn’t make you into bestiality.” He chuckles softly. “You saw me out there, I didn’t grow any extra hair, my ears didn’t get all long and pointy, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only one with a tail on tonight. It’s not like what you think, we blend in really easily. I can shift so I can look like what you may have seen, but it’s rather uncomfortable and unnecessary.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“Of me?”

“No.” He sighs with relief at that. “I’m scared that they’re going to take me again.”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because…we have ways of protecting ourselves and others. I have something I can give you to keep you safe.”

“Like what?”

“I…I have to bite off one of my claws, and put it on chain for you to wear.” She grimaces at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it in the morning, and it’ll grow back. I can even paint it a nice color, I have some nail polish.”

“Wonderful.”

“C’mon, the bath is gonna get cold. I’ll step out so you can get in, and-“

“I want you to stay in here with me.”

“I’ll come back, I just wanna give you some privacy.”

“I need you to unzip the back of this stupid thing for me first.”

She turns around and sighs heavily. She looks at herself in the mirror, and is shocked at how fucked up she looks. Her mascara had run down her face, and her bunny nose and whiskers that she painted on had smeared.

“Do…do you have any face-cloths?” She mumbles.

“Yeah, babe.”

He steps over to the linen closet after unzipping her. He hands her a blue cloth and steps out of the bathroom. He hears the front door open and close, and races downstairs to Louis and Niall.

“Cleaned up and taken care of.” Niall says. “I need a shower.”

“Y/N’s getting into the tub. I ran her a bubble bath so I could heal her.”

“I told you to put her to sleep.” Louis grits his teeth. ��I really don’t like it when you don’t listen, Harry.”

“M’sorry, she…she just looked so scared, and I couldn’t lie to her. We can talk to her in morning, can’t we? It’s not like she’s the first regular person to get involved with a werewolf.”

“True, but you should really have ran this by your mum first. She’s not gonna be happy.” Louis says.

“I’ll deal with her in the morning too. Let me go tend to my bunny, yeah?”

He goes back upstairs, and taps on the door before entering. She was in the water, covered by the bubbles. She had pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. He sits down on the toilet and faces her.

“I need to stick my hand in.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows raise at him.

“To make what I put in work, I have to stick my hand in the water.”

“Alright.”

He leans forward, and dips his hand into the warm water. His eyes glow red, and she feels every cut and bruise on her body disappear. She feels better than she had before the night even started.

“Holy shit.” She breathes as he takes his hand out of the water.

“How’s the temperature, still warm enough?”

“Yeah…it’s…it’s perfect.” He nods at her and she sighs heavily. “So, you could literally rip me to shreds, and you’re choosing not to?”

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m going to kill you? It’s what the hunters think too, and it’s just not the case, love. Especially with my breed. Healers don’t like hurting others, even in defense. We’re too empathetic. I wanna keep you safe more than anything.”

“Are there others? Obviously Niall and Louis, but, like, in our classes?”

“Not that I know of. The three of us stick together because we’re all in the same large pack. Our three families came together for safety. Other packs just tend to leave others alone, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” She snaps.

“I never meant to put you in danger, Y/N.”

“Do you have a towel for me, I’d like to get out now.”

He sighs and gets up. He grabs her a fresh towel, and hands it to her. He turns around so she can stand and wrap it around herself. She steps out of the tub and looks up at him. She groans and presses her forehead into his chest.

“I can feel how conflicted you are.” He says as he wraps his arms around her.

“Must be nice to just sense how someone’s feeling.” She scoffs as she nuzzles into him. A thought occurs to her and she looks up at him. “Is that why you curled up with me the way you did that night? Like…are you more dog than person when you’re sleeping?”

“Wolf, I’m not a fucking dog. And…I don’t really know. Sometimes we can do that when we feel really safe with someone.”

“You feel safe with me?” Her eyes widen.

“Well…yeah. And you always smell so good.” He mutters as his hands splay on her back, pulling her closer to him.

“I…I think you smell good too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, but I can never quite put my finger on what cologne you’re wearing.”

“I don’t wear cologne.”

“What?!”

“It would fuck with my natural scent too much. I have to wear a scentless deodorant even.”

“So…you just naturally smell good?”

“I…” He thinks for a moment. He had read about this before, and from what Louis and Niall said about not being able to smell anything particularly special about her, some things were starting to connect. “Let’s go to my room, Niall said he needed to shower.”

She nods, and he grabs all of her clothes as they make their way down the hall. She sits down on his bed, after he sets her things down on his desk. Her eyes scan over the broadness of his back, and how his muscles flex while he digs through his dresser. She clamps her legs together after shaking her hair out of its bun. He stands up straight after getting a whiff of her. She was turned on? He turns to look at her.

“What?”

“Nothing, here, you can wear these.” He tosses her some boxers and a shirt.

“What if I wanna be like you and sleep naked?”

“Y/N, it’s late and-“

“That bath gave me a second wind.”

Harry wasn’t doing anything in particular, but healers had a way of bringing out confidence and truths out in others. Especially when they seemed to be this connected. They could be soulmates for all he knows, but he doesn’t want to say that and scare her off.

She stands up and walks towards him, reaching around for her bunny ears, and putting them on. She smirks at as he swallows.

“You’re really okay with all of this?” He puts his hands on her shoulders.

“I know I wanna be with you. Maybe I shouldn’t want that, but I do. I…I don’t think I could stay away from you even if I wanted to.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Is…is someone going to tell us we can’t see each other anymore?”

“No.” He scoffs. “I’m like a prince, no one tells me who I can and can’t see.”

“Good, because…” She presses her hands to his chest and lets her towel fall. “I got all dressed up tonight because I wanted to look cute for you, and I’m really sad it all went to waste.”

“It didn’t.”

He cups her cheeks and presses his lips to hers in a searing kiss. He backs her up against his bed, and lays her down. He gets his pants off, and climbs on top of her. . She wraps her legs around his waist and he grinds his clothed dick against her. She groans and scratches her nails down his back. He kisses down her body, and looks up at her to make sure it’s alright before he dives in. She nods frantically, and he goes for it. He licks all around her folds, essentially making out with her other lips, and then he sucks on her clit. Her hands fly to his hair, and she tugs harshly. He moans against her, and her mouth falls open. Her hips buck up towards his mouth. He thought she tasted so fucking good. He was nose deep, moving his face from side to side, and she loses it. He licks her clean and pops his head up.

“Holy shit.” She breathes. He chuckles and gets his boxers off. He moves to sit up against the headboard. His tip was leaking for her. “Are…are you that big because of the wolf thing, or…?”

“Nah, that’s just good genetics, love.” He grins. “C’mere, bunny rabbit, come bounce on my cock for me.” Her mouth falls open and does as he says quickly. She swings her leg over his lap, and lines him up with her. “Wait, uh, do you, like, want me to use a condom, or-“

“M’on the pill, it’s fine.” She smiles at him and he nods. “Thanks for asking, though.” The head of his cock pushes inside her and she bites down on his shoulder as she takes him deeper, inch by inch. She lets out a puff of air once he’s all the way. She looks up at him with big eyes. “Will you help me?”

He bites down on her bottom lip as he moves her up and down on his hard dick. She was so snug around him, he was starting to lose control a little. His claws grow and he scratches at her love handles. She gasps into his mouth.

“Shit, sorry, I-“

“No, it feels good, it’s okay.” She smiles and moves around in a circle on him.

“Here I was thinking you were this innocent little thing.” He smirks and runs his nails down her back. Her head rolls backwards and he notices goosebumps raise on her skin.

“I usually am, but you’re bringing something out of me.”

“Do you feel good?” He asks as he nibbles on her neck.

“Yeah, really good.” She bounces faster up and down on him. “I’ve wanted this for a while.”

“Me too.”

He slots his mouth over hers, and licks into her. She moans into him. This is exactly what they both needed right now. He retracts his claws and before she has a second to protest he snakes a hand between them to rub her clit.

“Oh!” She gasps.

“Gonna make you come again, baby.”

She moans out as she feels it bubbling in her stomach.

“You can come inside me if you want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah, I really wanna feel it.”

He nods and rubs her faster. She cries out into his neck, and then he bursts inside her. He fills her to the brim, and it has her panting. He kisses her tenderly as she whimpers. He takes the bunny ears off her and tosses them elsewhere before carefully lifting her off of him. He lays her down, and grabs the towel she was using earlier to clean her up.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet.” She says tiredly.

“It’s the least I could, I made a fucking mess inside you.” He chuckles. “There we are, all clean.” He tosses the towel in his hamper and knees back onto the bed. She rolls over onto his chest as he turns the lights off.

“That was really great.” She nuzzles into his neck. “I’ve never felt so confident with someone before.”

“I enjoyed it too.”

“So, do you get, like, animal instincts or urges sometimes? Like, do you ever randomly chase after squirrels, what am I dealing with here?”

“No.” He laughs. “Nothing like that, although I really enjoy getting my head scratched, like, behind my ears like a dog would.” He mumbles the part about the dog. “The only time I would chase after another animal is I’ve fully transformed, and I only do that on full moons. It’s liberating to just run free like that.”

“Will you be able to tell when I’m getting my period, or if I’m on it?”

“Yeah. I have a keen sense of smell. My hearing’s enhanced too.”

“Oh my god.” She sits up a little. “So did they just hear everything?”

“Probably, unless they’re asleep already.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, no need to be embarrassed, alright?”

“Are…are you gonna have to transfer schools since the hunters know you’re here?”

“We shouldn’t need to. We’ll need to see how many of them are here and what not. My mum might send reinforcements if need be. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have fucked you if I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stay.”

“Okay.” She settles back down and he pulls the blankets over them.

“Do you mind if I sort burrow under the blankets again? I could just rest my head on your stomach.”

“Sure.” She smiles and he pecks her lips. He shifts under the blankets, and rests his head just above one of her hips. She mindlessly scratches at his head and he sighs. “Comfy?” She giggles.

“Very.”

The next morning Y/N sits comfortably in Harry’s sweats in the kitchen while Niall makes her breakfast. Harry and Louis were on a video call with Anne and Gemma.

“Does it bother you that they’re having you babysit me?” She asks him as he sets a bowl of fruit in front of her. He was making pancakes as well.

“Not at all, love. The conversation doesn’t really concern me. Harry’s talking to his family, and Louis is a pack leader so it makes sense for him to be in on the chat.” He sets a short stack in front of her.

“Thank you.”

“So…” He drums his fingers on the kitchen island. “You know everything?”

“I wouldn’t say everything, but I know the three of you are…a little special.”

“And you’re not scared?”

“The three of you rushed into the woods to save me. I’m more scared of the people who dragged me out with guns on their hips.” They hear a noise from upstairs that sounds like a puppy just got kicked. “Jesus, what was that?”

“Oh…Harry must’ve just ripped out one of his claws.” Niall gives her a soft smile and digs into his own pancakes.

“What will me wearing it do, exactly?”

“Alright, so basically, we’ve got this stuff all around the house that makes it so we can’t be tracked. I can’t really explain it, it’s outside my expertise. You may notice we all smoke a lot of cigarettes?” She nods at him. “They’re not normal cigarettes, they have the same stuff in them. It would kill you if you tried in inhale one, so we give normal people pieces of ourselves and it has the same effect. You’ll need to wear it all the time.”

“It won’t just decompose?”

“No, he has something to put on it so it won’t. It’ll sort of look like a shark tooth or something to the untrained eye.”

Harry and Louis come downstairs. Harry’s face is flushed, and he comes around behind Y/N to clasp the chain with his claw on it.

“I panted it black.” He mutters.

“Are you alright?” She asks as he sits down next to her.

“Yeah, it already grew back, see?” He holds his hand up for her.

“We’ve been given the greenlight from Anne, Harry’s mum.” Louis says as he pops a blueberry into his mouth. “But you need to be sworn to secrecy. You can’t say anything, Y/N.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Because we’re trying to live normal lives, and-“

“She’s not going to say anything!” Harry slams his hands down on the island. “We literally just spoke with my mother about this for a bloody hour! I trust her, there’s nothing more to it than that!” His fangs peak out, and Louis growls at him.

“Do I need to remind you that male healers are extremely gullible? Or did your mother not drive that point home enough for you up there?”

“I-“

“H-Harry…” She puts her hand on his back and he looks at her. Her heart was racing.

“Oh, baby, we’re scaring you.” His fangs retract and he takes her hand in his. “I’m sorry, we’ll cool it.”

“You’ll need to stay here the rest of the weekend.” Louis says. “It may not be safe for you at your flat.”

“What about roommates.”

“I’m gonna go check on them.” Niall says. “I have a class with Georgie, shouldn’t be too weird.”

“Y/N, have you ever taken any self-defense classes or anything?” Louis asks her.

“No.” The boys all share a look. “Should I?”

“Harry will take you to the boxing gym that he goes to and show you some ways to defend yourself. You should be safe, but you can never be too careful.”

She looks at Harry and smirks at him.

“Wanna get into the ring with me?” She giggles and he giggles too. Louis sighs heavily rolls his eyes.

“I’m gonna take my breakfast to my room.” He grumbles and leaves.

Harry started going to the bookstore twice as often, setting up shop there for most of Y/N’s shift. If he could have curled up in her lap and sat on top of her in calculus he would have. Whenever he’d go over to Y/N’s place, he was always laying on top of her. Her hands were in his hair, and sometimes his foot would start shaking if she scratched him just right. He was in heaven. Her roommates, however, saw an extremely clingy and possessive guy taking up all of her time. So, they decide to talk to her about it.

“Guys, I can’t talk long. Harry’s gonna be here soon.” Y/N says as she packs her overnight bag.

“We know, it’s just…we’re a little concerned.” Talia says.

“With what?”

“He literally lives up your asshole.” Georgie says.

“He’s…clingy, but it’s not a bad thing. He gives me my space when I need it.”

“You told him to go home one night and I swear to god I heard him whimper, Y/N, whimper!” Talia says. “Also….he likes to call you ‘bunny’, and I I’m pretty sure that’s a weird BDSM nickname. Like, does he make you wear a collar or some shit, or-“

“Okay.” Y/N laughs. “You are so far off. He calls me bunny because I was dressed like one for Halloween, and sometimes I wear the ears when we have sex, but that’s the extent of it.”

It wasn’t the extent of it, but her friends didn’t need to know when they were feeling especially naughty, they would play a game of big bad wolf. Y/N had hot glues the bunny tail from her costume to a pair of lace panties, and she’d wear a lace bra, and Harry would hide somewhere in his room, and he pop out with his glowing red eyes, his fangs, and his claws. He wouldn’t scare her, it turned her on to see him so forceful. And then…once he “caught” her, she was in charge. She’d ride his dick, and tell him to be good for her while she squeezed and tugged at his curls.

“So, you’re both just a little kinky, but he’s not making you do anything you don’t wanna do, right?” Georgie says.

“Exactly.” Y/N smiles. “Look, I love you guys. I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do. I promise, if anything felt wrong with him I would tell you. We’re in a perfectly healthy relationship.” There’s a knock downstairs, and she slings her bag over her shoulder after getting her jacket on. “That’s him, I have to go.”

She goes downstairs, and opens the front door. She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him before he takes his bag for her. He laces his fingers through her hand.

“How’s my little angel baby?” He asks her and it makes her giggle.

“Good, how are you?”

“Good.” He nods. “Sorry I couldn’t be there during your shift today, I was a little busy with the boys.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I don’t expect you to be there all the time.”

He gets her into his place, and he can’t stop grinning. She gasps when she sees a folding table set up in the living room, a nice tablecloth on it, and delicious food piled high.

“What is all this?” She says as she walks over to the table. Niall and Louis come out of the kitchen with biscuits and wine.

“You celebrate Thanksgiving right? Not like you can easily go home for that, so we cooked.” Harry says. “We looked up what all the best stuff is.”

“You…you did all of this for me?” They look at each other like they’re the only two people in the room.

“Well…yeah.” He takes her hands in his. “I…I love you, Y/N.”

“Oh, Harry, I love you too!” She throws her arms around him and slots her mouth over his. He groans into his kiss and pulls her closer.

“Ahem.” Niall says. “We’ve got hot food here…so…”

“Right.” Harry clears his throat and steps back from Y/N. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

Everyone enjoys the meal. Y/N giggles as they boys tear into the turkey and pretty much obliterate it. Usually they all had manners, but she thinks seeing the turkey ignited something primal in them. She eats until she’s the happy kind of full, and then she helps clean up. After cuddling on the couch (and making sure to go to the bathroom), Harry and Y/N go up to his room.

“I can’t believe you did all of that for me.” She pouts at him as she sits on his bed. He kneels in front of her and rubs his hands up and down on her thighs.

“Do you wanna do something for me?”

“Anything.”

He grins and pecks her lips as he stands up. He goes into his dresser and grabs a few things, keeping them behind his back.

“I’ve been sort of preparing myself all week for this, and I feel really close to you. These last couple of months have been incredible, and we love each other so…I was wondering how you’d feel about topping me.”

“Harry, I top you all the time.” She giggles.

“No, I mean, like…” He takes a strap and a bottle of lube out from behind his back.

“Oh!” She gasps. “Oh my god…you’ve been putting that up your ass all week?”

“No, I used a butt plug, and I got all cleaned out. Wanna give it a try, bunny?”

“Will you fuck me first?”

“Yes.”

She smiles and nods at him. He eagerly gets his clothes off, and he helps her get out of is.

“I just…l don’t wanna lick you down there like you’ve done to me, is that okay? I’ll use my fingers, but I don’t wanna stick my tongue up your ass.” She says as he kisses on her neck.

“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s why I got so much lube.” He smirks at her. “But you have no problem with me doing it to you, that’s cute.”

“That’s because your tongue works all kinds of magic.”

He growls at her and kisses down her body, getting between her legs. He sucks on her clit while he fingers her, knuckle deep. He throws her legs over his shoulders and relentlessly fucks her with his fingers. She was a heaving mess underneath him. She comes around him, squeezing tightly around his fingers. He takes them out of her and sucks them into his mouth. He takes her hand and sucks two of her fingers into his mouth. She groans watching him.

“Okay, I wanna fuck you now.” She says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She bites her bottom lip. “I’m really into it now. I wanna make you feel good.”

He kisses her quickly before grabbing the strap and the lube. He helps her into it, and she gets the lube on her fingers. He lays on his back with his legs spread for her. He had trimmed everything for her, which she greatly appreciated. Harry didn’t always manscape, not that she minded, but he clearly wanted to make things as comfortable as possible for her. She swirls her fingers around his hole and he spreads further apart for her.

“Wish I could have seen you with the butt plug in.” She grunts as she fingers him easily.

“I’ll happily wear it for you any time you want.”

“What made you wanna do this with me?” She asks as he gets the dildo attached to the strap lubed up.

“I’ve always wanted to try it, but I’ve never trusted someone enough.”

“God.” She breathes. “That is so sweet. Okay, I’m gonna start. Make sure to tell me if it hurts or something.”

“I will, go ahead.” He holds his legs back for her and she slowly pushes inside him. He tries to keep his breathing steady as she keeps going. Once she’s all the way in she waits for his signal. “You can move.” He grunts.

She slowly moves out, and then back in. She puts more lube on the dildo to add to his comfort, and then continues. Eventually she’s able to get a pace going, and she wraps her hand around his twitching, hard cock. His head falls back into his pillows and his mouth hangs open.

“Oh! Shit, do that again.” He groans. “Think you hit my g-spot.”

“Here?” She thrusts into him again and his eyes roll back into his head. She bites her bottom lip and she hits the spot over and over while pumping him silly with her hand.

“Feels so fucking good, Y/N.” He was starting to pant. “Will you sit on my face when we’re done? I wanna fuck you with my tongue.”

“Y-yeah, we can do whatever you want.” Her legs were shaking. She was extremely turned on seeing him like this.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, babe!”

She gives him one last good push while he comes into her hand. Some of his gets onto his lower tummy, but he doesn’t seem to care. She licks her palm clean of him, and he moans at the sight. She carefully pulls out of him and gets the strap off.

“Are you sure you wanna-“

“Get up here, now.” He growls at her, and his eyes flash red for a moment.

She didn’t dare fuck with him, so she crawls up his body, and he grips her hips harshly as he licks into her. She gasps, especially from the way he nibbles at her clit. She tugs at his hair as she starts riding his face. He moans against her, loving the way she tastes. She was dripping for him. No one had ever made her this wet before.

“H-Harry.” She moans and he presses her harder against him. “Fuck, oh my god, shit!” She comes on his tongue and he laps her up. He nips at her inner thigh before she gets off him. “W-wow, that was-“

“Wanna take a bath?” He asks, already getting up.

“Sure.” She shrugs. “How are you feeling?”

“Incredible, baby, you did such a good job. What about me? Was I good for you?”

“Yeah, Harry, you were really good.”

If his tail had been out he’d be wagging it. He grabs a couple of towels, and they head to the bathroom. Once the tub is full of bubbles and calming scents, they both get in. Harry sits in front of Y/N so he can rest his head on her shoulder, and so she can play with his hair.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” He asks her, turning slightly to make eye contact.

“Nope, can’t afford it. I just video chatted with my family last year, it was fine, why?”

“Well, how would you like to come to my house for Christmas? My family really wants to meet you, I want you to meet them too, of course.”

“I…I’d love to.”

“And you won’t be the only regular person there either, some of them choose not to be turned.”

“It’s nice everyone’s so cool about it.”

“Love is love.” He shrugs. “So, you really wanna come home with me?” He pouts up at her.

“Of course I do.” She squishes her nose to his. “Sounds like fun.”

“And we can travel a bit too, if you want.”

“I don’t care what we do, I’m just happy to spend time with you, Harry.”

He smiles and pecks her lips. After they get out they towel off, and go back into his room. They get cozy in his bed with his head laying on her chest.

“Do your parents know about me?” He asks as he fondles one of her breasts.

“Yes.” She giggles. “I told them I started seeing a very nice boy in my calculus class, and since my grades have been good they haven’t seemed to mind. They may come try to visit over winter break since it’s so long.”

“Would you let me meet them?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’d really wanna make a good impression.”

“I wanna make a good impression with your family too.” She whines slightly. “Your mom is this powerful matriarch.”

“Yeah, but she’s also like any other mum.” He kisses on her breast. “God, you are always as sweet as honey. I always wanna kiss you all over.”

“Mm, I like it when you kiss me all over.” She runs a hand through his hair.

“Your body is so perfect.”

“Harry.” She giggles. “No it’s not.”

“Sure it is. I love every little thing about it.”

“Thank you.” She leans forward to kiss his forehead. He yawns out and shakes his head. “Sleepy?”

“Yeah.”

She nods and reaches to turn the light off as he goes further under the covers to rest his head on her hip. It wasn’t the most conventional way to sleep, but he always made her feel safe, and he told her it made him feel safe to sleep like that. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to be in a relationship with a werewolf. It wasn’t too different from being in a relationship with a regular person, they just took more precautions than most. Sometimes being with Harry was like having a pet. He needed a lot of attention, and a lot of love, but it was okay, she had plenty of it to give him.

#heal #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles y/n #werewolf!Harry #student!Harry #college au #supernatural au #werewolfrry

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imagintheworldaway · 3 years

Text

Used Pt 2

Anonymous said: Hello i loved your post “used” with Harry and i just wanted to know if you are planning a part 2 in the future?!?

Anonymous said: Loved your most recent imagine of Harry! Can you plzzzzz make a part 2 of used, where she’s a bad B and becomes even more successful and she’s better off without him? Thank you!

A/N I loved that you guys loved the first one! I went through a few different ideas / endings for this one and I think I'm happy with the outcome! warning it is a long one so strap in!

Used Pt 1 can be found here

Requests are open!

That night at Harrys apartment felt like a life time ago. The breakup wasn’t messy as neither of us addressed it really, I archived all of my posts of him and he had done the same for me and that was about it. It didn’t take the fans to catch on but what can you expect, they know more about me than I do. it had been almost 6 months to the date, not that I was counting or anything but I honestly felt like Harry was my soulmate at the time. Oh how love can blind you.

The past few months I had submerged myself into my channel and my fans. I had done an array of meet and greets and was interacting more with them, and honestly my love for YouTube was restored and I felt like a whole new person. I had had a full make over and due to this my channel had grown immensely and I had hit 50 million subscribers, a huge achievement which I never though would happen. it was amazing to see the amount of support I was gaining from my fans and how much I had grown, from a naive teenager to a young adult. I had received an overwhelming amount of support from my friends. When Harry and I broke up they tried not to take sides but It was evident that that couldn’t last forever and I was ok with that.

I had just finished a meeting with my manager at her office. With my new look and attitude brands seemed to swarm at me and I was gaining so many new opportunities it was kind of crazy. It was like I was a completely different person and it seemed to be working in furthering my career. I got in my Uber and made my way to my new apartment, after the break up I felt like starting a new was best and so I moved into my new multi million apartment in knightsbridge. It was nice to be in an area by myself as it meant that I had more privacy and was able to truly live my best single life. Plus a tour of new apartment left many of my friends in awe, and honestly I loved that I could show off all my hard work.

I thanked my Uber driver and made my way to my apartment, once inside I collapsed on my sofa and kicked off my heels, which I was still getting used to in all honesty. Having changed from living in baggy jumpers and old trainers was a bit of a shock but I loved wearing my more out there wardrobe, with tighter clothes and higher heels, my makeup always done to perfection, I always felt like people had their eye on me and I felt amazing. My change in personality and look hadn’t gone unnoticed either, although they didn’t say anything I could tell my friends liked my new attitude, after wallowing in self pity for a few months I think they’re happy that I’m back and stronger than what I was before.

I still thought about Harry from time to time. How I not so secretly still had one of his jumpers and when I was alone id wear it, just to feel his embrace once more. When we had initially broken up it took him less than two days to send Freezy round my apartment to drop off my box of things and to request his stuff back. I know Freezy felt bad but what choice did he have if Harry wanted to erase me from his life then so be it. More fool him, I had grown so much and if he was truly clout chasing then he should’ve stuck around a little longer.

I woke up to my doorbell ringing. I must’ve fallen asleep on the sofa. I stretched a little when the doorbell kept ringing. “Jeez I’m coming” I mumbled to myself. I pressed the array of buttons for who ever it was to get through the front gate and after a few minutes I opened the door to reveal Talia. “Have you been sleeping?” She giggled at me as she walked into my apartment, propping herself up on one of my breakfast stools. “Hmm, oh yh, busy day” I laughed closing the door and standing the other side of the breakfast bar looking up at her.

“Soooooo” I edged her to start talking. “Oh right sorry, your release party, Simon was pestering me to ask you if a certain arsehole could come?” She said the last part in a sheepish tone. Fuck, my release party I completely forgot, I had had so much on my plate that I forgot I was opening a club and releasing my own line of spirits. I stood up looking at Talia with a confused look “why the hell would I invite my ex to my release party?”. I reached up and grabbed two wine glasses pouring us each a glass of rosé. Passing over a glass to Talia as she pondered her reply. “Honestly I said the same but apparently all the lads feel bad as everyone we know is invited except for him” she swirled her glass of wine and took a sip as I copied her mentioned. In all fairness it was rude that I invited everyone but him, plus it was going to be the event to beat, and I had a few spaces on the guest list. “T, I don’t know” I shrugged at her sighing. “If I was you id tell him to stick it where-“ Talia started before I cut her off “I know, I know, it does seem a little harsh, I have invited so many people and, well, you know what fuck it, I’ll get my manager to add him to the list if you let him know” I decided. Talia looked gobsmacked, I had never seen her this speechless in our lives. “Are you sure, he’s a dick like you really don’t have to” she said cocking an eyebrow at me. “Look its not fair, plus there’s going to be hundreds of people there and the likelihood of us actually interacting are practically 0” I stated. Which was true, there was going to be just about the whole British YouTube community there, as well as some celebrities and journalists, and I would have my team around me at all times so the chance of him even getting near me is slim.

That night Talia and I had gotten wasted, watching movies and just have a nice little girly night. However, right now I was shaking in my heels. My hair and makeup had been done to perfection and I was in a body hugging dress which showed off all of my curves perfectly. I looked almost like a model that’s how good I looked. I of Course was going to be the last to arrive at the venue, I needed everyone to be chatting with flutes of complimentary champagne when I entered so all attention was on me, as conceited as this sounds my publicists and manager had worked months for this to run as perfect as possible. I arrived at the venue and I could hear the music from outside “you ready?” My manager, Lucy asked. I nodded my head and made my way through the back entrance. I stood behind the stage door with a mic in one hand and a bottle of my own vodka in another. “Deep breaths, you’ll smash it” Lucy smiled at me, I just nodded and plastered on a smile, I heard the music die down a little and the door opened and I made my way on stage. An eruption of applause and cheering began from my friends and guests. I smiled taking it all in for a moment before I raised the mic to my mouth.

“Thank you all so much for being here today and supporting me in my new business venture. If you would have told me a year ago that this is where I would be I would have laughed. These past few months I’ve grown more than I ever have, my channel, my business and more importantly myself. I can’t thank you all enough for the continuous love and support, without you guys or my fans I wouldn’t be where I am today. So id like you to all enjoy a complimentary glass of my new Vodka and enjoy yourselves. Because tonight is about friends and loved ones. So let’s get wasted!!!” I recited my speech cheering at the end. I got a mass amount of applause and cheers and I smiled looking over the crowd. I could see all my friends together happy, the way it should be and I smiled until I saw him, he actually came. My smile faltered slightly and my breath hitched in my throat. I quickly shook it off and made my way to the stairs, exiting the stage. I was quickly engulfed in a mass of hugs and bodies, people I knew and some I didn’t all congratulating me.

I had done it I had made it and all on my own.

After about half an hour I made it over to my closest group of friends. They all cheered when I went over and I did a mock curtsey, careful not to reveal too much. I got handed a glass of something and started polite conversation. “We’re all so proud of you” Gee gushed “you’ve done so well I can’t believe that you are basically the most sought after name at the moment” freya added. “ I couldn’t have done it without you guys” I smiled. “Oh shut up little miss humble” Ethan who had clearly had a bit much to drink already. “You’re the queen of UK YouTube, you have your own empire going and you built it all yourself” he grinned at me before smothering me in a hug. “You need to be in more of our vids then maybe we’d be doing just as well as you” Simon commented earning a laugh from the group. “Here’s to Y/N the baddest bitch I know” Talia toasted and everyone joined in. I smiled as we fell into polite chatter. “I’m just nipping outside” I informed my friends smiling at them before making my way to the balcony. I leant over the edge and smiled, nothing could ruin my life right now. I thought to myself. That was until I heard footsteps approach me from behind and the body heat of someone I could recognise in an instant next to me. “Before you say anything I’m here to congratulate you” Harry said. I kept my gaze forward, not wanted tears that I didn’t know still existed for him to spill. “I’m so proud of you, honestly I am, so are my family, they miss you, I miss you” I turned my body and met Harrys gaze. I studied his face, he had bags under his eyes and the usual scruff on his beard was longer than he usually kept it, his hair was also scruffy, not scruffy like usual but tangled and unkept. He was wearing smart trousers and a nice button up shirt, no blazer, Harry hated formal clothes. “Thank you” was all I was able to say as I smiled at him. “You know, with every day that goes by someone reminds me how I fucked up and should have kept a death grip on you, that you were the best part of me and now I’m just some boring kid who plays Fifa” I half chuckled at the end. I felt sorry for him, it seemed that I had grown and succeeded and that Harry had stayed stagnant in his life. “Harry, I, I don’t know what you want me to say” I looked at him with sorry eyes, I think maybe I still loved him, but I had been doing so well without him I just I didn’t know whether I wanted to kiss him or kill him. “No I, I get that, I was a dick. I was in a rut and I took it out on you. And well honestly seeing you do so well without me just shows how I was holding you back. I’m proud of you, I’m happy for you, honestly I am bear, sorry Y/N” we had made eye contact at this point. So many memories came flooding back to me. Our first kiss, our first date, the nights we spent talking about what we wanted to name our children, and how we wanted to have a house in Guernsey and one in London. How we were going to grow old together and never let the other go.

I broke my gaze when I heard Lucy call my name. I took a deep breath. “I loved you harry, with all my heart, with all my being and I was willing to stay and love you no matter what. I think I still do love you. But right now I need to focus on me, my empire has only just started and I don’t want us to back peddle. The only way for me is forward no mater if you’re there with me or not.” I spilled my heart out to Harry before I heard Lucy call me name again. “Sorry” was all I could say before I headed back inside. I wiped a stray tear from my eye and took one last look at harry, I had left him so broken. But now was time to put me first Y/N is number one in my life and as much as I wanted to fall back into my old self I couldn’t. I had made promises and shown that after heartbreak you can build and make yourself stronger than before. And I was not about to throw it all away.

#sidemen #Harry Lewis x reader #Harry Lewis one shot #Harry Lewis imagine #wroetoshaw #harry lewis #w2s

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

finders keep hers, iii.

read parts one and two! the long awaited conclusion! i’m sorry it turned into a friggin’ novel. i hope it does the first two parts justice, though. these kids are... idiots. i love them and you (and also the best beta reader @hobi-gif)! 💖

pairing. jjk x named f!reader. rating. explicit, ofc. tags. this is... really soft at certain parts. and then really raunchy at others. oops? but fr - mainly fluff with some smut at the end. you might need a filling. wc. 5.4k.

You’re buzzed into the building without a moment’s hesitation, the kind concierge with the gummy smile and greying temples beaming at you as you enter. “Nice to see you, Miss Lee.”

“You too, Mr. Choi.” A grin of your own is offered, gym bag hiked higher over your shoulder as you pause to chat. You’re in no rush. “Is he home?”

“I don’t believe so.” The sudden look of disapproval that colours the older gentleman’s features is almost comical, reminiscent of a disparaging parent. It’s the same expression you’re greeted with nearly every time you visit. “He left in a town car yesterday afternoon and I don’t think he’s been back since. That boy’s going to get himself in trouble one day.” As if Jungkook didn’t already - as if it didn’t follow him around, glued to the bottoms of his Italian leather shoes.

“Tell me about it.”

“You know…” There’s that twinkle in Mr. Choi’s eyes again - the one that tells you he’s about to repeat the same words he always does when he catches you alone. “A nice girl like you could get him to settle down.”

Your response is what it always is - a scoff and a laugh rolled into one. It careens off your tongue, ringing in the spacious lobby. “I don’t think anyone will ever get him to settle down.”

How true that is, you’re not sure. For your sake, you try not to think about it too much.

The old man is undeterred though, shrugging his narrow shoulders beneath the neat uniform he wears. It’s a little loose in the chest but immaculate otherwise, tie knotted in a classic Windsor and collar ironed perfectly. He levels you with that shrewd stare of his but says nothing further, simply engaging you in an unspoken staring contest.

Sometimes, you wonder how much he sees. How much he knows .

You break before he does, tearing your gaze away and blinking rapidly. He laughs, full bellied and deep from the chest. “Get on upstairs, Miss Lee.” You aren’t offended by the dismissal. “It’s always nice chatting with you.”

You remind yourself to bring him chocolates the next time you’re by. The ones with hazelnuts, because those are his favourite. A fact you only know because you’ve helped your best friend pick up a box for him every Christmas, writing the card and having him sign it right before it gets left behind the desk.

Actually, you helped Jungkook with a lot of things. Always had. It was simply the nature of your friendship - passed down by your parents and forged stronger by childhood playdates, your fair share of teenage squabbling, and college hangovers so bad they’d created an unbreakable bond.

Whenever he would need you, you’d be there - whether that meant picking him up at 4 AM from the airport because he wanted “some shitty fast food and to see you” or helping him pick gifts for Mother’s Day. There was no task too small, no moment too inconsequential.

Unconditional love, they called it.

It’s why you have no problem swanning into his apartment with the extra key you’ve had since he moved in, kicking off your trainers and tucking them neatly alongside the rows of black leather and expensive sneakers.

You do so much for him that you take where you can, indulging in all of the luxuries you’ve never been afforded. Unparalleled view, stupidly expensive toiletries, a damn jacuzzi tub .

You pull your sweater over your head - truthfully, one of Jungkook’s from college that you’d never felt inclined to give back - and toss it over the back of a barstool on your way into the guest suite. Your bag follows shortly after, deposited at the foot of the bed that exists as a rotating welcome mat to your and Jungkook’s circle of friends.

The rest of your clothes - sports bra, shorts, thong, socks - are stripped, folded, and tucked into the laundry bag you keep handy. You know you could leave them here and Jungkook’s housekeeper would take care of it, but you’ve never been too comfortable with that. Different upbringings.

The spray is like sweet relief the moment you step beneath the rainforest shower. It’s the perfect temperature and pressure, melting the sweat and tension from your bones.

But it isn't why you’re here, so you make quick work in the glass enclosure, scrubbing your body bare and lathering and conditioning your hair into a squeaky clean mess. Any other time, you’d just spend a good half hour standing beneath the head but you’re feeling particularly indulgent today.

Call it a spa day, courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook.

You don’t bother to dry off, water splashing across the floor as you step from the shower and sink into the spacious tub that overlooks the heart of Seoul. Diptyque bath oil encapsulates the room in a bubble of sweet almond, similarly branded candle burning on the ledge. The jets release a steady stream against your tired back and legs, massaging your limbs into jelly.

You can’t help the sigh of utter relaxation that rolls off your tongue, sinking into water in the same instance your shoulders do.

This is what dreams are made of. Anyone who says differently is an idiot and a liar.

“When are you going to tell her?”

You’re not expecting the voice and it breaks the silence like a thousand pound weight, shattering the calm and nearly startling you enough for you to knock your head on the edge of the tub.

There’s no reason for you to be surprised. Not really. This isn’t your home, after all. You aren’t entitled to any sort of privacy.

It doesn’t matter, though. The discomfort in your chest is unfolding regardless, lodging rocks in your throat.

Because it’s a female voice. Lilting, soft, draped in familiarity. Not someone brand new.

Your heart stutters at the realisation. The rush of blood against your eardrums is so loud you momentarily wonder whether they can hear it all the way in the living room. They must be able to - it’s practically deafening. You can’t even hear the rest of their conversation.

Their conversation .

Which seems to have ended, leaving only silence.

You suddenly remember your shoes, your sweater. Traces of you littered throughout the apartment that isn’t yours. God, you’re an idiot. He was going to kill you - or she was. You’re not sure which is worse.

You’re reaching for the fluffy white towel on the rack when you’re scared near half to death yet again. This time, by your best friend who cuts an imposing figure in the doorway, broad form resting casually against the frame. He looks surprisingly unbothered, curls pushed back from his forehead by a pair of sunglasses and arms folded over his chest.

“Jesus!” The shriek comes four octaves higher than it normally would, pitching into the open so loudly you wince. “You scared me!”

You can’t help the way you peek past his shoulder for a sign of the girl he’d brought home.

“Enjoying yourself?” There’s something amused dancing in the darks of his eyes, his mouth curving around the same emotion as he steps into the bathroom. You’d be bothered if he were anyone else, unnecessarily long legs carrying him to you in three strides.

“I didn’t know you were home.” You can’t quite meet his stare, still far too distracted by the mystery woman. Had he left her on the couch? Maybe his bedroom as he snuck you out? What excuse could he come up with?

“Didn’t know you were home either.”

He’s made himself comfortable right on the ledge of the tub, marked fingers dragging lazily through the still-scalding water. He doesn’t seem terribly in a rush. That puts you on edge.

Was he going to hide you in here?

“I wanted to relax after my run.” You don’t owe him an explanation - not really - but you offer it anyway. You figure you need to, when you might’ve ruined his Sunday morning romp session. You can’t bring yourself to address it, though. The words just won’t come, sitting on the tip of your tongue like thorns. It hurts to swallow.

Jungkook doesn’t further the conversation - a first for him. He’s normally a chatterbox.

The silence stretches on. Suffocating.

You force yourself to speak, staring down at your hands that are slowly pruning beneath the water. “Should I… go?” The way it comes is feeble, soft, uncertain. You hate it.

By the look of surprise on his face, he does, too. He cackles suddenly, like a goddamn witch. “Why?”

Heat floods across your cheeks. You wish you could blame it on the bath or the steam that still collects on the mirrors. It pulls high over your ears, colouring them tomato red and embarrassed. Surely, he knows why.

When he repeats himself, it’s harder, without any of the laughter from before.

Rather than answer, you wave a hand through the air, fingers wiggling. The universal sign for you know . It should be enough - you hope it’s enough. Your ego won’t let you verbalise it.

“Suddenly mute, baby?”

It isn’t quite mocking - teasing, maybe - but it stokes the fire that burns in the pit of your stomach and licks uncomfortably at the organ in your chest. You don’t even look at him as you nearly spit the words, petulant and far more bothered than you should be. “You’ve got a girl here.”

A laugh that isn’t quite a laugh comes, swathed in velvet and coloured blue. The effort you make to not shoot him a glare is herculean.

He’s still snickering when he speaks. “You mean my sister?”

“Your sister?” It’s more surprise at yourself that has you whipping to look at him, bewilderment tossing all other emotion out the window. Because his sister was practically your sister. How had you not recognised her voice? You feel silly all at once, the embarrassment from earlier fading into reticence.

“Yeah. I spent the night babysitting the twins.”

You sometimes forget how much Jungkook loves children - especially his sisters’. It’s hard to reconcile the family man he effortlessly transforms into when he spends most of his waking hours playing the perfect part of unaffected bachelor.

“How are they?” You ask because you care - you adore Minseo and Minhyuk - but also so you can move the conversation along. The last thing you want to do is dwell on your mistake.

“They’re good. Getting big.” He’s got that smile on his face - the one that’s softer than any other, with deep lines at the corners of his eyes. Reserved especially for the people he cares about most. Your favourite sight. “You can come with me next time. Minnie asked about you, anyway.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest.

Being liked by peers? Great. Being respected by your superiors? Rewarding. But being loved by children? It was in a league all its own - better than ice cream on a hot day.

“Sure.” You can’t keep the grin away.

That is, until he speaks again, circling the conversation back. “So, were you jealous?” His ability to piss you off is uncanny. It’s like it’s written into his genetic code, each molecule of his body tasked with ruining your day.

“No.” It’s meant to be a scoff. It’s not very believable.

“You sure, princess?” The fingers on your chin are wholly unnecessary - he’s got you caught in his stare, locked in place with nowhere to go.

“Yes, Bunny .” You know how much he hates the nickname, only tolerating it because it’s you. You can’t deny the pleasure that comes at the sight of his jaw tensing, muscle jumping in agitation. Just as he’s your weakness, you’re his, too. “Now let me finish—”

He cuts you off, sharp and unrelenting: “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get out of the tub or I’m pulling you out myself.” Risen to his full height, he’s an imposing figure. Even worse, there’s something you can’t read in his expression - something that has your nerves firing wildly. Your heart rattles around in your chest, uncertain.

He leaves you without another word.

You scramble out of the bath as quickly as your confused limbs allow you, knotting the towel beneath your arms. You’re not quite sure what to do next, caught between pulling your clean clothes out of your workout bag and demanding an answer from your sphinx of a best friend.

What the hell was his problem?

Your impatience wins out as you’re tugging a brush through your hair, fumbling uncharacteristically through knots until you’re too frustrated to continue. You’re ready to tear into him when you storm out of the guestroom; you’ve got a barrage of insults on your tongue, proverbial gun cocked and ready to unload.

They melt away when you spy him on the couch, neatly wrapped bouquet laid across the coffee table.

“Come here.” It’s not a request so much as a demand - commanding and soft all at once. A small part of you wants to fire off a rebuttal; that part dies when he repeats himself, louder this time.

The seat you take beside him is begrudging, a good foot of space held between your bodies. You fiddle with the hem of your towel, turning a loose thread over and over your index finger.

“What?” It’s snippy, discontent - kerosene on the fire that burns beneath Jungkook’s skin.

“Watch it,” he retorts, though there’s no acid to his words. Frankly, he sounds more frustrated than angry, more exasperated than pissed off.

That makes one of you.

Only he can bring out this side of you - brusque and biting. “ You watch it, Bunny.”

Fingers find the bridge of his nose, a gesture you don’t see very often. Guilt blooms behind your ribcage as he rubs at the tension between his eyes. For someone who has it all, he looks like he’s a moment away from losing it.

“You’re a brat, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” you retort, not unkindly.

“You’re making this really hard,” he snaps in the same instant he all but throws the overwhelming bunch of flowers at you.

You nearly drop them you’re so surprised.

“What are these for?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Did I stutter?”

If you weren’t so busy studying the arrangement of florals, you’d have some witty comeback. As it stands, you’re preoccupied by the pretty bunch of peonies and tulips. You wonder what he’s done wrong - why he’s found it necessary to soften the blow with your favourite flowers.

Your thoughts drift back to his sister’s words: when are you going to tell her?

All at once, you want nothing more than to leave. You don’t want whatever heartbreak is about to come. You’re not ready for it.

“Listen—”

He cuts you off, again. “I love you.”

You’re not sure how your face looks. You imagine you could look up flabbergasted in the dictionary and you’d find a photo of your expression right now. “What?”

Jungkook won’t quite look at you, intently focused on an indiscernible point against the far wall. When he speaks the words again, they’re full of uncertainty - but not in the way you expect. The confession is as believable as any you’ve ever heard - he really does sound like he loves you - but somehow, it’s draped in dread and held aloft by hummingbird wings. “I love you.”

He’s nervous, you realise in amazement.

“Come again?”

He meets your stare then, brow knitting with unease. He doesn’t say it again, though.

“Are you messing around with me?” You don’t mean it how it comes - a little accusatory.

“I’m not an asshole.” Except both of you know he certainly can be. You don’t call him on it, though, opting instead to peer curiously at him, hands fisted around the bouquet in your lap. “I talked to my sister. She…” He shrugs once, an almost helpless roll of his shoulders. “She told me I was an idiot.”

You’re not surprised by that. Lina had always been the one to give it to him straight.

“She said I would lose you if I didn’t get my shit together.” There’s a bit of childish petulance that works its way into each syllable - he hates being told what to do. “Said I needed to tell you or I’d regret it. Which is stupid, because we’ve been best friends forever and she’s younger than me so what does she know—” He must realise he’s rambling, something he never does. “But—”

“But?” Quiet, hopeful, coaxing.

There’s a warmth in your chest - illuminating and golden and so bright it hurts to think about. It grows with each moment that passes, spurred on by the look in his eyes and how they find yours.

Hesitation pulls the silence a beat too long. The light wanes. You wonder if the moment has passed.

And then he continues, a little more earnestly. “Was she right? Am I going to lose you?”

You’re not entirely sure what he’s asking. You don’t think he even knows what he’s asking. You try to answer anyway, as honest as you can without pinning your heart directly on your sleeve. “You’ll never lose me.”

“You know what I mean.”

Did you? “You’ll never lose me.” You’re the one repeating yourself this time, just that bit harder.

“Then say it.” Again, not a request. A prayer, perhaps. Ardent and needy - a world away from the Jeon Jungkook you know.

You don’t hesitate. “I love you.”

He doesn’t either - upon you so quickly you don’t have time to blink or think.

How he kisses you now feels different. More . It’s like being consumed entirely - changed from the inside out in ways you never thought possible. Where he touches, sparks fly, filling you like stars in the night sky. Lava rolls over every inch, dragging heat and want and need from the soles of your feet to the tip of your nose. You’re gasping rather than breathing, clawing against the front of his shirt and twining your fingers into the strands that curl over his nape.

“You never told me you could kiss like that.” It’s lacking coherence, made by a partial inhale and wild, wondrous eyes.

His response is a laugh and another kiss, forceful and adoring and utterly devastating. “Shut up,” he mouths against your lips, tongue licking over your teeth and gums like he’s trying to memorise every inch of you. Hands follow in the same amorous motions, tugging and pulling and aching for you closer; the tips of his fingers sear white hot heat over your hips, the small of your waist, the delicate bones of your ribcage.

“I’m serious...” You really are - far more than you should be. You’d been missing out on this ? It’s incomprehensible.

The sound he makes is more of a growl, playful and resounding in the cavern of his chest. It rattles your own, sending your heart on a downward spiral into the pit of your stomach. His nose traces the column of your throat, soft lips guiding him further until he’s mouthing hotly over the bare skin of your shoulder. Tongue teases, delves ever so gently into the dip of your collarbone, and swipes back up, laving over the maroon that peeks around the edge of his teeth. You can’t help but keen, holding him so closely you wonder if you’re suffocating him.

“So am I.” Each syllable is punctuated by another nip, another nibble. It seems like his goal is to bloom roses across your skin - a wreath to welcome him home, made by his own touch.

You don’t mind.

“Say it again,” he demands, hopeful and unashamed from his place against your neck.

The admission comes easily, as if it’s always lived on the tip of your tongue. “I love you.”

“Again.” You’re not ready for the way he stares at you - like he’s never done before. Like he’s seeing you for the first time and he’s awestruck. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Hands find the familiar contours of his face, thumbs brushing over the hollows of his eyes, over the beauty mark that sits front and centre beneath his lip. Each graze follows a repetition of the confession, as if you might burn the three simple words beneath his skin - write it into his DNA like he’s written into yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Bunny .”

He holds you close - so tightly it feels almost as if he’ll crush you - and captures your mouth again. It’s more gentle but just as lovesick. A thousand unspoken words spill from his tongue to yours, swallowed whole with greed you don’t bother to hide.

“I need you.” It’s whiny, framed by a pout that could end wars and paired with doe eyes so wide and innocent you almost want to roll your own.

“You have me.”

“Do I?” There’s a very deliberate roll of his hips, denim of his jeans rough against the exposed softness of your inner thighs, hands manoeuvring over the partially covered swell of your hips. The press of his fingers is purposeful, digging tension into every inch. As if he might transfer some of the unadulterated need that thrums through his veins, turning his heart to jelly and brain to mush.

“Since when do you ask?” You have a point.

“You’re right,” his grin is almost lazy, drawing over his mouth in a measured crawl. “Good girls just do what they’re told, right?” His grips tightens almost imperceptibly, holding you to him almost effortlessly. You’ve been in this position a hundred times before but it’s never been this easy - like breathing.

The gasp you offer is all mock affront, hand laid palm-down across your chest. You don’t miss the way his gaze follows it before ticking lower, unabashed in its admiration. “Are you saying I’m not?”

“Don’t know, baby.” The war on your neck has resumed, teeth traded seamlessly for the softer promise of his tongue, the dry brush of his lips. It’s almost sinful, garnering sighs of affection and need from somewhere low in your throat. “Want to be a good girl for me?”

You’re not quite used to this version of him - playful and needy and not nearly as demanding as usual. A part of you wants to draw out the side of him you know is there, hidden just beneath the surface; the other wants to bask in this, all feather soft and cotton candy sweet.

“Always,” you return, with a coquettish smile and fluttering lashes.

“Always,” he murmurs, tasting it for the first time. He sounds almost giddy when he repeats it once, then twice, then a third time for good measure. You think it’ll come again, laughter rolling off your tongue as you stare into the eyes of the boy you love. Instead, he speaks in a voice full of gravel and grit, all traces of your sunshine boy suddenly swallowed whole by the darks of his pupils. “Fuck - I can’t wait to have you.”

“Then what’re you waiting for?” You don’t need to push him. You like to do it anyway. It feels right .

“You’re the worst.” What Jungkook means is you’re the best and I love you and I’m going to fuck you six ways into next week . What he means is this is the scariest thing he’s ever done but it’s all right because he has you. What he means is thank you - and how he shows it is through worship.

On the way to the bedroom, he crowds every inch of you, holding you so closely you wonder if he’s trying to carve himself into your bones. He’s firm and unrelenting, balancing you against his chest as he smothers every available inch of your shoulders in sweet, sloppy kisses. He revels in the way you cling to him like you’ve never needed anything else.

In his bed, he lays you out and strips you bare. He offers devotion with every pass of his fingers, every trail of his tongue. He wants you so badly it’s hard to focus on giving you everything you deserve, but he tries anyway. He sucks love into your neck and over your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you’re panting and he’s aching for the same treatment.

On his knees, he prays at the altar of your body, taking his time to map the constellations on your skin, the memories written into each scar and dot. His tongue follows the raised flesh that sits across your hip - an unfortunate mishap from a schoolyard dare. You whine and he nearly cries, soothing over the sensitive spot with hands and lips and tenderness. He lays kisses on each freckle, each irregular mark. From your navel to your knee and everywhere in between, he caresses and comforts, turning those blemishes into stars.

He also teases - subtly, quietly, with wandering hands and focused breaths. You don’t realise it until it’s too late, your insides molten, your pulse a thunderclap in your ears.

“Jungkook.” It sounds more like begging than anything. Exactly what he wants.

“What’s up, princess?” Spoken so casually, as if he isn’t between your legs, long fingers tracing through the slick that coats your thighs. He gazes up from behind too long strands, all wide-eyed and terribly sweet - until he pops a digit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around the taste of you. “Something wrong?”

“Stop teasing.” You hear yourself whine but it doesn’t quite sound like you, higher pitched and needier than you’ve ever been.

“I thought you were going to be good for me,” he returns with a tut and a push of that same finger deep into your cunt. He flexes it experimentally, beaming up at you when you clench around the intrusion that’s too much and not even close to being enough all at once. “You’re so wet, baby. I just slide right in.”

As if to drive his point home, he drives another finger in, scissoring them languidly to stretch you open. It’s such a pretty sight, messy and inviting. He can’t resist a taste, dragging the flat of his tongue over and around the fingers that continue to fuck into you at a faster pace.

“ Jungkook! ” You’re shrieking, bucking against the onslaught of sensations. A shapely arm immediately cages you against the bed, palm splayed across your hips.

“Stay still.” It’s a growl, teeth bared against the sensitive pearl between your legs. Words are punctuated with the softest pressure - a silent threat that goes no further. You wonder what he’ll do if he has to repeat himself. “Good girls listen, remember?”

You’re fumbling across his shoulders, nails digging crescents everywhere you can reach. You need him so badly it hurts . “Please.”

“Please what?” That patented, stupid smirk cradles his mouth, tongue peeking out as he stares at you expectantly. “If you’re going to be so demanding, at least use your words.” He watches the way your eyes roll back into your head when he slots another finger in with the others and curls them against that particular spot that has you seeing stars. The bastard has the audacity to coo at you. “What’s wrong, baby? Can’t speak?”

You’re near wailing, gasping and whining around words that sound like his name. Angry red lines sprout across his shoulders, his arms - demands carved into flesh.

He makes a sound, wistful and resigned. You think - try to think, beyond the pleasure that’s building steadily in the pit of your stomach - that he’s finally going to give you what you need. You’re almost crying for it, moisture crowding your lashes and threatening to spill over.

Then he withdraws, all at once.

You could scream. In fact, you do, red in the face and chest heaving. “I hate you!”

“No.” He’s upon you in an instant, insistent and terribly smug. There’s a playground in his smile, childish laughter spilling into the spaces between you. “You actually love me.” He noses at your neck, the heat of his palm searing against your side as he sighs almost dreamily. “Say it again.”

You answer him with something more than love - frustration and annoyance and so much devotion you can’t keep it out no matter how hard you try. “No.”

It’s a challenge more than anything. He knows it; you know it.

He accepts it readily, just as you expect him to.

“Say it.” Enamel presses steady, heavy, into the sensitive spot right beneath your ear. He mouths over the skin that blows out red and inviting beneath his ministrations, the firm press of his fingers gripping you without hesitation. You can feel the entire weight of him against you, length nestled comfortably against your core. He repeats himself as he rocks against you, dragging the swollen, leaking head of his cock through your folds with an agonising slowness that has you clenching around nothing. “Come on, baby.”

You’re keening, adjusting your hips and grinding against him. You still won’t say it, hoping to find a rhythm in the quiet that’s punctuated by your laboured breaths and his occasional laughter.

“Just say it and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you everything. Promise, sweetheart.”

Framed against the late morning sun, hair spilling across his forehead in curls of india ink, he’s so handsome your heart leaps into your throat. “I love you.” It’s a wet confession, carried by a wave of emotion you don’t expect.

“I love you,” he echoes, sinking into you so gradually you feel like you’re caught in slow motion, all of your focus balanced on the tip of a needle.

It’s never been like this before. Each inch is a delicious stretch, filling you and claiming you. The drag is incredible, your walls fluttering around the intrusion and aching for more. You bite back a sob, digging into the wide expanse of his back with your nails as your mouth seeks purchase anywhere it can - over his jaw, up his neck, across his shoulders. He soothes you as he presses deeper, reassurances whispered against your temple.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let me make you feel good.” When he bottoms out, you demand more - somehow, somehow - locking your ankles against the small of his waist. He doesn’t miss the way you clench, so tight around him it almost hurts , when he says those three words once again. “I love you.”

His lips find yours and he brushes them over and over - a salve for the burn he ignites beneath your skin. It doesn’t matter that he’s both the calm and the chaos. Jungkook’s always been everything to you.

The rhythm he sets is unhurried and perfect. Each snap of his hips has his cock dragging against your walls, filling and stretching you so well; everywhere his skin brushes yours, you’re alive. There are a million nerve endings going haywire beneath your skin, flashing bright as holiday lights.

That’s what it’s like - Christmas morning . Picture perfect and filled with wonder.

He’s completely smitten when he draws back just enough to see the entirety of you - your fucked-out expression, the rose-wreath he’s wrought around your neck, the sweat that beads between your tits and tempts him to duck his head. “I love you.” It’s almost hypnotising - watching you take him, pussy dripping and needy around his cock.

“I love you,” you parrot back - or try to. It’s not very coherent, driven to a point of nonsense when his hips begin to stutter and he makes up for the loss of rhythm by slipping his fingers over your clit in circle eights.

You’re at your breaking point. He knows - can read you like the back of his hand - and holds you there, back bowing to kiss you breathless, pressure unrelenting against the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, princess. Right there.”

The coil snaps at the third pass and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks, his name spilling off your tongue in tandem with the erratic thudding of your heart. White spots your vision, entire body electrified as you crash headlong into an abyss of bliss. You hear him join you with a hoarse whine, a mix of your cum slipping out of you as he rides out his own high with shallow thrusts, mouth open and panting against your shoulder.

The comedown is hazy, dusted in exhaustion and a thin sheen of sweat. When he slips from you, he doesn’t go far, tugging you comfortably against his side like you’re not both a little gross. It’s not the first time you’ve fucked but it feels different.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Bunny.”

You realise - it feels exactly like that. Making love.

613 notes · View notes

fictitiousfoodie · 3 years

Text

It’s A Family Thing

Summary: A boy falls for a girl

Pairing: Reader x Ian Kildner ( fake person)

Word Count: 3847

Okay so here are something to know before you read. The teams are real but all the people fake it was easier for me with this story.

Juliette stood by a high table, wearing a stunning and elegant black dress A-line gown with a respectable but fun slit up the side, talking to a relatively wealthy seeming older gentleman. His tux was custom, hair grey, and thinking, and the date he had brought with him was barely legal to drink, showing almost all her cleavage, and was sipping her cosmo through a straw. But Juliette didn't care about any of that right now. All she cared about was convincing this man that a donation to the team's charity would be a brilliant investment.

"Mr. Mason donating to the teams' charity is not only a write-off for you with tax breaks, but it allows lots of people to see just how good you and your company are." Manson Construction was responsible for building half of Boston and rebuilding the other half. They had gone through a string of bad publicity when someone leaked rumors of the company cutting corners regarding safety protocols to the local newspapers. The stories had been proven untrue, but they had still caused doubt in the community. Mason Construction was a good company, and Juliette knew that. "Manson Construction on every banner we use when the team works with charities like Habitat for Humanity or does an event with local children's hospitals something like that could change how the community views your company," she said with a passionate and firm promise to her voice. Just as Juliette finished her speech, a loud, sharp crack of noise erupted from behind her.

Juliette's brother Jack, the youngest of her four brothers, and his girlfriend Ashley had been fighting all night. Juliette had been keeping an eye on it. Ashley was not a great girlfriend. Juliette was pretty sure Ashley was in it for the idea of dating a pro athlete, and Jack was in it cause Ashley was hot. Juliette had noticed more and more that Jack seemed done with Ashley's crap, and from the Way, Ashley was now storming out and the fact Jack wasn't going after her, he had decided to end things tonight in a public place.

Juliette turned back to Mr.Mason, who was chuckling to himself. "Your brother seems to be quiet, the unlucky fellow tonight in regards to love. But you are better than luck. You're smart, and you've got gumption, Juliette. I like the image you've given the charity, and I think it will provide great support and publicity for my business. I will send you a check tomorrow with the donation. If the team or the charity needs anything, you let me know," he said, smiling and walking away with his old wrinkled hand on his arm candy's ass.

Jules shivered in disgust as she watched arm candy giggle and kiss him on the cheek, then took a deep breathe she had done it. She had landed another massive donation for the charity.

Suddenly a large and heavy arm flopped around her shoulder, and her oldest brother Brandon was there by her side.

"Way to go, Jules. It looks like Mr.Mason was pleased with the idea of being the teams highest paying donor', he said with pride and admiration for his sister.

"He said he would send over the check tomorrow. I need a drink, and to get these heels off my feet are killing me." She laughed, walking to the bar.

Brandon was the oldest of the four brothers at the age of 33. He had retired from the league last year due to a knee injury. The team hired him as the skills coach. Brandon was always responsible. He was the boy next door with a killer smile and genuine charm. The next one down was Henry, who was 31 and was the team's new athletic trainer. He was sporty and the smartest. He wanted to be a doctor when he was younger but found a way to combine his love of medicine and learning with his love of hockey and the team he had grown up around. He immediately change to sports medicine. The third one was Eric. He was the middle one, wild and crazy. He was 28, had been on the team as a defender for four years now, and made sure everyone knew his opinion on any given subject.

Jack, the youngest of the brothers, was a sweet kid, but just that, still a kid in many respects. He had the talent and a good heart, but he needed to grow up. He was 25 and still trying to figure out many things about life but was too stubborn to listen to anyone's advice. Finally, there was Juliette, the youngest out of the five children and the only girl. She grew up tough and headstrong, just like her brothers. Her mother made sure she was balanced, though, so she had put her in dance as a little girl, and she had loved it. She still went to classes and taught little ones occasionally. Her brothers were always there in the front row to cheer her on then give her noogies after. She was 24, but most people thought she was older because of how she held herself.

All 5 of the siblings looked alike, all athletic, tall, and toned the brothers ranging in muscle definition. All five had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. There was no denying they were family. The dark hair came from their dad, and the eyes had come from their mom. The whole family was here tonight, and Jules loved that. Everyone in the family had found a way to be apart of the team or organization in a job they loved. She loved being around her family and the constant support they gave. Her mom had started the Boston Bruins charity when her dad had been a player. She was still running it and was grooming Juliette to take over soon. Being a Bruin was a family thing. They had been born into it and loved every minute of it.

She and Brandon were standing by the bar ordering drinks when she saw out of the corner of her eye, Henry and Eric walk up.

"So, we all saw the slap that Ashley gave Jack, right?" Henry said in a cautious and questioning tone.

"Yes, the whole room heard it. Did you see where he went?" Brandon asked cautiously.

"No, but my guess would be the locker room, someone should go check on him?" Eric said, turning towards Jules.

"Yea yea yea, I'll go. Even though one of you are married and ones engaged," she said over her shoulder, walking away toward the locker room.

She found Jack sitting in his locker with a cold beer pressed to his face. head drooped down and fidgeting with his phone. "You shouldn't call her, "Jules said, pulling the drink away to check out the handprint on his face. It wasn't nearly as bad as it had sounded probably just stung. Ashley wasn't abusive, just dramatic.

"Why? Cause she slapped me?"

"No, because she gave the bartender her number about 15 mins before that happened. You made the right call. She didn't love you; she loved the status."

"I know. I just thought she was the one at the beginning. "He sighed as Jules sat next to him.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence. Jules knew he would be fine just needed someone to lean on for a bit, and sure enough, after about 10 minutes, he handed Jules his beer and stated with new energy, "There are plenty of fish in the sea. I have to find the right one, right?!" Jack jumped up and started walking to the doors.

"Yes, just please be safe and smart and maybe go home alone tonight," Jules shouted to him as he strutted out the doors.

Jules took a sip of the beer and sighed, starting to take her shoes off, enjoying the silence. When she heard the doors slam open and Jimmy Peters and his date for the evening tumbled though not breaking the sloppy kiss and handsy embrace, they were tangled in. They never noticed her as she grabbed her high heels and beer and left the room. She was in the hall on the way back, laughing to herself about the thought of giving Jimmy a hard time the next time she saw him when she heard the classic catcall whistle from behind her.

She turned to find Ian Kildern, one of the team's defensive players. He was 6'4", muscled more than the average hockey player and curly brown hair with deep green eyes. His tux was well altered; it hung perfectly on him, showing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Ian was an excellent player, intelligent, lightning-fast, and a great leader. He was 26 and had been in the league since he was 19. The Bruins had picked him up four years ago when his contract had been up with the Tampa Bay Lighting. They were friends, but Jules was closer to other players, and usually only had a small talk with easy, polite jokes.

"Juliette Calloway, you clean up nice." He said in a semi-serious, mostly mocking tone.

"Shut up, Ian. Don't you have a date to dazzle like the rest of the team?" She said in a cheeky and light-hearted tone.

"No, actually, Kelly and I broke up last weekend."

"Oh, that's right; her name was Kelly, and I'm so sorry to hear that after a week together, you had to call quits. You must be devastated. She said with a wink. Knowing fully, he had never planned on keeping it serious. Ian didn't sleep around a lot, but he also didn't keep girlfriends long.

He chuckled, "Yeah, she was allergic to my dog." He changed the subject when he noticed the bottle in her hand, "You drinking alone - drowning your sorrows?"

"No, actually," she said in a matter of fact tone, "I was consoling my brother."

Ian's face squished up, and he sucked in a breath, "Yea, I saw - well heard the slap. Is he okay?"

"He's fine. It's his pride that's hurting more than anything, although he won't admit to it", She explained on a sigh.

"Well, I'm glad he's okay. It's tough trying to figure everything out—the balance between the game and social life. Suddenly having money and not know if women want you the status or the money. It can be a rough and bumpy ride."He said with an understanding tone.

"You sound like you have some experience, but you seemed to have figured it all out."

"I had my mistakes and issues, but the key difference is I didn't have a last name that's attached to 2 legends. Jack has a whole lot more spotlight from the league because of your dad and oldest brother. I could make my mistakes in private."

"So, you had a girl slap you in front of your entire team and about 45 VIP guests?" Jules questioned, intrigued to hear his answer.

"Okay, well, no, I never had that, but I did have a date throw up on me at an event one time. Rachel Madison, I'll always remember that name now. She hadn't eaten all day and then started doing shots of tequila. The smell was horrendous. It was like...

"Ew, I don't want to know! Please stop you win. That's disgusting." She fussed, cutting him off and giggling at the idea.

"Well, then, Miss. Date Judger where is your perfect event plus one this evening." He asked mockingly, looking around the hallway they were slowly walking down.

"Oh, I don't ever bring a date to an event that mom and I are running. I did once or twice and always felt bad that I left him standing somewhere while doing things for the event, plus dating in my life is hard. They tend to get offended when I know more about the game or jealous when I spend all my time here at the arena with you guys OR my brothers bully them, and they can't take the heat."

They had almost reached the doorway to the main lobby, where the fundraising event was when Ian's ear perked up as he heard his favorite song come on. It Had To Be You by Harry Conick Jr. He grabbed her hand put the bottle of beer in her hand on the floor, and stated softly, "It's a great song - I wouldn't want it to go to waste since you don't have someone to dance with."

Surprised by the sudden change in tone, Juliette lost her voice a little and had to clear it before asking, "Ian Kildern, are you asking me to dance?"

He slowly started to pull her into his arms, saying in a volume just barely above a whisper, "I guess I am. Are you saying yes?"

"I guess I am." She said, staring into his eyes and falling into the sway of his body. Still stiff at first, she slowly drifted further into the daze the music mixed with his look and tone of voice had caused, eventually allowing her to melt completely into him. Neither spoke to busy enjoying the moment. It had been years since she had slow danced, and she was enjoying being wrapped in someone's arms. Not just any someone, but someone who had made her laugh and had been having a good conversation with, not to mention he smelled incredible.

Ian couldn't believe he was dancing again. He had stopped bringing dates to events because it always fell short of what he wanted the evening to be. But with Juilette, he couldn't help but notice her laugh at his story or the way she had softened and molded to him as they danced. Hand in hand, his left hand rested at the small of her back, her head resting on his chest her right on his shoulder. She felt good in his arms. He felt something different for her, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. The music drifted away as the song ended, and they both stopped swaying. She pulled her head back but didn't pull away; she just looked at him, waiting for him to speak first, but Ian didn't want to say anything anymore. The smell of her vanilla perfume. The blush that had risen in her cheeks, the way she was waiting for him. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to feel those soft pink lips pressed to his. Before he knew it, she was wetting her lips and starting to lean in because she had wanted it too. Never one to miss the opportunity; he leaned in and pressed his hand into her back more, drawing her closer. They were a whisper away from each other when Jimmy and his date exploded from the locker room with laughter, pulling Ian and Jules apart. Jimmy and his date rush by them and unseen to the car in the parking lot.

"Well, it's late. I should be going," Ian said, trying to hide the disappointment that the moment was gone from his voice.

"Uh, yea, it's late. I should be finding mom to see if she needs help with anything. Good night Ian and thank you for the dance.", She said, turning and walking away before he could say or do anything.

It took a split second for him to decide, but he had made his choice he wanted her. He wanted to hold, kiss, love, and keep Juliette Calloway forever.

Ian couldn't stop thinking about that night. It had been two weeks, and all he could think about was Juliette Calloway. He had been indifferent to her before that night. Ian had had conversations with her but always just regarded her as almost one of the guys. And now he couldn't get her out of his head. The way her eyes sparkled with what he hoped was lust and something more. The way she didn't back away from him and the chemistry in the air. He needed to do something, but what?

Friday games were always Juliettes favorites. The offices were always more energetic with Friday games as everyone was excited to watch them. Juliette always ran home at lunch for an hour or so to let out Wayne, her Weimaraner, go potty and play, then she would change into her jersey and jeans. She would come back and finish up work, then relax until the game started. Today was no different. She got home and was greeted by Wayne's barks and excited tail. She let him into the backyard and threw her bag and keys on the counter. She loved her home. It was warm and welcoming with leather couches and natural linens. She left the back door open for Wayne to come back in and walked to her bedroom. She was opted for wearing Jack's jersey tonight, paired it with her black jeans and favorite booties. She was excited and happy about tonight's game. Hence, she decided on a smokey eye - if she was honest with herself, she was thinking about her evening with Ian when she had decided on it but pushed it away and assured herself it had nothing to do with him. Wayne had yet to come back in; she went in search of him to find him bathing in the sun and enjoying the day just as much as she was. She called him in, gave him a treat, and headed back to the arena. The game was at 7. The team usually came in about 5. Everyone in the offices had more than likely left for the day; she had a few more things to do when there was a knock at her office door.

"Come in," she called to the knocker.

"Wow, nice digs," the knocker said with a low and slow whistle.

Juliette's head snapped up. She had expected it to be a co-worker that was running behind or family. Her brother or mother would sometimes stop by, but she was not expecting him, "Ian...what are you doing here"?

"Though I'd finally venture up to the offices. Poke around, see what it was like having an office job", he said, waltzing into the office looking around. His eyes settled on the wall of pictures and headlines. The wall was full of pictures of her brothers and father on the ice. It captured each of their timelines, from training to playing to winning championships at all different ages. A particular photo caught Ian's eye, and Juliette got up from her desk to join him. He looked fantastic in a suit more casual than the other night but still just as perfect. It was a solid black suit with a black button-down. He had the first few buttons undone. Juliette was standing next to him when he laughed to himself, saying, " Is this .. Henry?!"

"Yea, it is. He was like 8 or 9. Mom loves that photo; he hates it", she said with a snicker. The photo was of Henry in full hockey gear. He was standing on the ice for the first game of the season when he slipped and fell. The camera had caught it just right, and all his limbs were up in the air, and his face read of terror and surprise, not know what had just happened.

"I have to have the team come see this. Look at his bowl hair cut, "He cackled.

" Don't you dare! He will kill me if he knows anyone from the team has seen it", she said hastily while grabbing his arm to stress the importance and implore him not to tell.

He felt the electricity of her touch shoot through him. He was no longer focused on the photo but her. The way she smiled and was almost begging him not to spill her secret. He paused and looked at her hand on his arm. She realized what she had done with the casual touch, she could feel his muscle move, and she was immediately turned on and pulsed for him. When she tried to retract her hand, Ian grabbed it, placing a kiss on the top, and looked at her with seductive eyes while asking, "Are you begging me, Juliette?"

Juliette felt the innuendo to her core, and her stomach filled with butterflies. But she was no rose petal. She wanted him and wasn't going to melt for him like all the other women he was used to. She moved just a few inches closer and looked at him with a devilish smile, and asked, "Do you want me to?" Something inside Ian snapped. He couldn't hold himself back any longer. The look in her eyes mixed with her smile and words had him going practically feral. He gave the hand he was holding a tug, and she stumbled into his chest, her other hand landing in between them as she attempted to catch herself. Ian's other hand wrapped around her waist. He dropped her hand and slid his into her hair at the nape of her neck. He paused for a moment, making sure he still saw the same look in her eyes. He was thrilled to see it there but even more intense. He pulled her in and kissed her.

The kiss was passionate, hard, and needy. Ian pulled ever so slightly on Juliettes hair, causing her to moan softly into his mouth, giving his tongue access to explore. He deepened the kiss, fingers digging into her side, causing more soft moans to escape her. He pulled back ever so slightly to give her air, but Juliette chased him, making him growl and start to grow hard. Juliette's heart was pounding her panties were becoming very wet. She wanted more. They both craved to feel each other skin to skin. When they both broke because they needed air, Juliette saw a softness in Ian's eyes. His thumb stroked her cheek for a split second while he started to ask her out on a date to dinner in a few nights when she cut him off, smirking, "I guess you should be going wouldn't want coach to see you be late to practice." Then with a quick kiss, smirk, and a hoard of giggles, she pushed Ian out of her office and locked the door behind her. Ian was still in shock as he walked from the office to the locker room, both from the kiss and that she had pushed him out without saying anything else. She had a fire and spirit he had certainly never seen before. Juliette slunk down into the couch in her office. She couldn't believe she had just done that. He was incredibly sexy, and she was very turned on. She could feel the blush creep into her cheeks. She knew she wanted him in more than a casual fling way. That's why she was going to play hard to get. Make Ian chase a little bit for once in his life.

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