#harry styles x suspense

[silkpagess]

The Whispering Shadows - Part I

Summary: Harry is a skeptic, grounded in logic and consumed by an investigation that defies explanation. When he crosses paths with Y/N, a sharp, enigmatic medium drawn into the same mystery, he's forced to confront what he can't understand. Though he doesn't trust easily, her presence is impossible to ignore. As the case deepens and their connection intensifies, Harry begins to question everything he thought he believed, including her. 

Content Warning: This story isn't for everyone. Harry is a detective inspector who's trying to solve a series of murder cases, some parts will contain graphic scenes. Please move on if you don't enjoy this sort of content.

Word count: 3K

Winchester, England – October 28th, 2:36 AM

The forest had teeth. That’s what Elsie Wright thought as her boots cracked through a web of brittle twigs, and a heavy fog licked her skin like something alive. Trees loomed on either side of her, crooked and black, huddled like old men whispering secrets too ugly for daylight.

She hadn’t meant to stray this far. The pub had closed early. Her mates were already tucked into Ubers or boyfriends’ cars. But she needed the walk. Needed to clear her head. And the forest path, usually calm, almost romantic in the fall, had always been her shortcut home.

Tonight, though, it felt… wrong.

The wind didn’t move the way it should’ve. It whistled through the bare branches like a scream with nowhere to go. The kind of scream you keep inside when your skin is burning, your mouth is full of blood, and you know no one’s coming to help.

Elsie’s breath hitched. She glanced behind her.

Empty.

She picked up her pace.

The stories were just that, stories. The Hollow Wood wasn’t cursed, despite what the kids at St. Catherine’s whispered during sleepovers. No witches lived here, no ghosts. No one was hunting.

Still.

She heard it.

First, it was just a whisper. Soft. Like the rustle of leaves. But it grew. Became a rhythm. Footsteps. Wet ones. Slapping the mud too hard. Too close.

Elsie froze. “Hello?”

Nothing.

She tried again, louder. “Oi, you’re not funny—cut that shit out!”

Then she saw it.

A shape. No more than twenty feet away. Wrong somehow. Tall, thin, wrapped in shadow. Motionless. Watching.

Elsie’s scream caught in her throat. Her knees locked, useless. It stepped forward.

One step.

Then another.

Her body finally obeyed. She ran. Tripping over roots, dodging branches, lungs burning as she tore down the path. The thing behind her didn’t run—it stalked. Silent. Confident.

As if it already knew how this would end.

She broke through the trees. There—up the hill—were the village lights. She would be safe.

But the ground beneath her feet gave out.

She fell hard, tumbling into a narrow ravine slick with rot and leaves. Something cracked in her shoulder. Pain blinded her. She couldn’t scream. Only whimper.

And then, from the top of the ravine, it looked down.

It had no face. Only a gaping, pulsating blackness where a face should be. Like it was made of smoke and grief and something much older than hate.

Elsie choked as the figure descended. Not rushed—no, it took its time. As if savoring her fear.

When it reached her, she finally screamed.

It didn’t matter. By the time the villagers found her body at dawn, her mouth was still wide open. Her eyes too. But they saw nothing now.

Just empty sockets filled with salt and dirt.

⸻

Chapter One – The Arrival

Scotland Yard, London – November 1st, 9:02 AM

Detective Chief Inspector Harry Styles leaned over the crime scene photos like a man confronting a riddle that insulted his intelligence. 

Three bodies.

Three monsters, if the files were to be believed. Convicted sex offenders. Known abusers. Dead—each in separate parts of Winchester, within weeks of each other.

Torn apart. Faces obliterated. Organs removed with surgical precision. No prints. No footprints. No witnesses. And, most chillingly, no signs of struggle.

As if they had simply… accepted it.

He thumbed through the autopsy reports, frowning. The coroner’s notes were oddly poetic. Unprofessional. Phrases like “as if gripped by something not of this world” and “expression locked in divine terror.”

Harry exhaled sharply and tossed the paper aside. “Bloody hell.”

His superior, Superintendent Lewis, stood by the door, arms crossed. “I know that look.”

Harry ran a hand through his curls and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not in the mood for village fairy tales. Let the locals handle it. It’s probably just some deranged vigilante.”

Lewis shook his head. “No. You’re going.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“Winchester’s force is spooked. They requested help. You’re the only one I trust not to run off screaming into the moors.”

“I don’t do ghost stories.”

Lewis handed him a manila folder with a single photograph inside. A woman.

She stood in front of an ancient stone cottage, half-hidden by vines and shadows. Her eyes—dark, sharp—seemed to burn through the photo itself. There was something unsettling about her stillness, like she knew you were looking.

Harry frowned. “Who’s she?”

“Y/N L/N, she’s a local medium. Claims to have spoken with the dead since she was a child. Helps with disappearances, unsolved cases. People believe in her.”

He snorted. “And we believe in the tooth fairy now, do we?”

Lewis didn’t smile. “One of the victims—first one—had scribbled her name on the wall in his own blood before he died. Only word. Y/N.”

Harry went still.

“I want you on a train to Hampshire in two hours. Stay as long as you need. Solve it.”

Harry stood, jaw tight. “Fine. But let me be clear: I’m not entertaining séances or crystal balls.”

Lewis’s voice dropped. “Good. Because if she’s behind this—we need to know how a woman who’s never left her cottage in years might be killing men with no trace. And if she isn’t…”

He let that hang.

Harry nodded once and left.

But even as he descended the Yard’s old marble staircase, her eyes followed him from that photo. Unblinking.

Watching.

⸻

The morning fog clung to the rooftops like a veil of breathless mourning. Winchester felt even quieter today, as if the air itself had gone still in fear of being heard. Rain pattered gently on the cobblestones, a persistent, murmuring drizzle that had no intention of stopping.

Harry Styles pulled his wool coat tighter around him and checked the brass watch nestled at his wrist. Nearly 10 a.m. His sleep had been thin—choked with shadows and the sound of distant screams that might’ve only existed in his mind. He was used to the weight of murder. It followed him through cases like a scent that refused to wash off. But this town… this town felt different.

He took another drag of his cigarette and stared at the address scrawled on the now damp envelope he held in his gloved hand. The ink had started to run, like blood through cotton, but the name was still visible:

Y/N L/N

No. 3 Holloway Lane

Winchester, Hampshire

He had stared at those lines a dozen times since yesterday. Now, trudging through the morning fog, Harry’s boots tapped along the wet stones. It wasn’t fear that crept into his gut—it was wariness. He had built a reputation on logic and skepticism. Facts, timelines, fingerprints, forensics. And now he was about to knock on the door of a woman who spoke to ghosts?

Still, the murders kept happening. There were no signs of forced entry. No murder weapons left behind. No witnesses. Just bodies—slashed, broken, always left somewhere symbolic. Always the guilty: rapists, murderers, predators whose crimes had somehow slipped through the cracks of justice. Harry had looked at each file himself. There was no doubt—they deserved prison. But someone, or something, had decided that prison wasn’t punishment enough.

A whisper of wind curled between buildings like an unseen hand brushing his coat. He didn’t flinch. But his hand lingered near the inside of his jacket, where his sidearm rested. 

Just in case.

As he approached Holloway Lane, the houses began to change. The brick turned darker. Ivy crept up stone walls like black veins. The air felt colder—sharper somehow, as if the fog here wasn’t just moisture but something else. A presence. Watching. Waiting.

No. 3 sat at the far end, shrouded behind an iron gate so old it had rusted into a grim, mottled red. The house was narrow, tall, with steep windows that reflected no light. Curtains were drawn, and the garden was overgrown with creeping rosemary and shadowy rosebushes that looked almost feral.

Harry paused at the gate.

His pulse didn’t quicken, but he became aware of its beat. Steady. Solid. Human.

He wasn’t afraid. Not really.

He pushed the gate open. It gave a mournful creak, the sound loud in the hush of the lane. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes as he made his way up the winding path, the overgrown garden seeming to shift around him like slow-breathing lungs. He noticed symbols etched into the wood of the doorframe—tiny ones, subtle, curling in strange loops.

Warding sigils?

He scoffed under his breath.

Still, something cold prickled the back of his neck.

He knocked once. Firm. Professional.

Then twice more.

Silence.

Harry leaned in, listening. Was that movement beyond the door? A breath? Or was it the house itself, settling like some living thing, bones creaking and sighing?

He raised his hand to knock again—but the door opened before he touched it.

Just a crack.

The hallway beyond was dim, but warm amber light flickered from deeper within, as if the home had been expecting him.

He cleared his throat. “Ms. L/N?” he called in, voice crisp, practiced. “Detective Inspector Harry Styles. Scotland Yard.”

No answer.

He hesitated. Every instinct told him to turn around and wait for a warrant. But something else tugged at him—something that made no logical sense.

Curiosity.

He pushed the door gently. It opened fully on silent hinges. The scent inside struck him first. Not unpleasant—but strange. Incense, perhaps. Sage. And something sweeter—lavender maybe, almost like perfume and candle wax melted into velvet.

The foyer was lined with dark wood panels and aged tapestries. A crystal chandelier hung above, its light dimmed by layers of age and dust. Shadows flickered along the corridor, cast by candles placed on iron sconces. The effect was gothic. Regal. And oddly intimate.

He took one cautious step inside.

“Ms. L/N,” he repeated.

This time, a voice answered—low and feminine, smooth as silk, and carrying an echo that made the fine hairs on his arms lift.

“You’re early, Inspector.”

Harry froze, instantly alert. The voice came from the far end of the hall, but he saw no one yet.

“I wasn’t expecting you for another hour,” the voice continued.

He stepped forward slowly, eyes scanning. “I don’t like wasting time.”

“Neither do I,” the voice said—and then, she stepped out of the shadows.

She moved like water—quiet, fluid, and utterly calm. Y/N L/N was not what he expected. No crystal balls. No wild hair or outlandish robes. She wore a long black dress, simple but elegant, with sleeves of lace and a silver pendant resting against her collarbone.

Her eyes, however, were what held him.

Dark. Deep. Unreadable. Eyes that had seen too much—or perhaps not enough of the right things. She looked at him not like a stranger, but like someone who’d already read his soul.

Harry found his voice again. “Ms. L/N.”

“You may call me Y/N.” She turned and began walking back into the house, her bare feet silent against the floor. “Come. You want to ask me about the killings.”

He followed, jaw set. “How did you know that?”

“I know many things,” she replied softly. “Especially when death is involved.”

They entered a drawing room filled with old books, dried herbs hanging from hooks, and a fireplace that burned with crackling warmth. The contrast to the chill outside was startling. Everything smelled ancient and secretive.

Harry stood stiffly, refusing to sit.

“I’m here because these murders are not normal,” he said. “They’re targeted. Ritualistic. But the people they’ve killed… they all had something in common.”

She nodded, slow and deliberate. “Yes. They were all evil.”

“That’s not for a killer to decide.”

She met his gaze with a flicker of something like sorrow—or contempt. “Then who does decide? The system? The one that let them roam free?”

Harry didn’t answer.

She studied him for a moment longer, then said, “You don’t believe in me.”

“No.”

“Good. That makes it easier.”

He frowned. “Easier for what?”

“For you to see the truth when it comes for you,” she said, turning her back to him as she reached for something on the mantelpiece.

“And what truth is that?”

She paused.

Then she whispered, “That the dead don’t rest in Winchester. And neither will you.”

Y/N’s words lingered in the room like smoke:

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat, Ms. L/N?”

She didn’t turn around. Instead, she delicately picked up a matchbox from the mantel and struck a single flame to a long, black beeswax candle already waiting in an antique holder. The flame caught, dancing wildly before settling into a steady burn.

“No,” she said with an airy lilt, finally facing him again. “That’s a prophecy.”

Harry’s jaw clenched—but not from fear. Something about her presence was unnerving in a way no murderer or crime scene ever had been. She had the confidence of someone who didn’t need to prove herself. And that unnerved him more than any talk of spirits or prophecies.

She strolled past him then, the hem of her dress whispering against the wooden floor.

“You’re not like the others they’ve sent,” she mused, peering out the window, arms crossed loosely. “Usually they send the desperate ones. The old ones. Men who’ve already broken a little, who want to believe. You’re new. Shiny. Still pretending the world makes sense.”

“I don’t pretend,” Harry said quietly.

Y/N looked over her shoulder with a sharp smile. “Oh, darling—you pretend constantly. You wear your cynicism like armor. I bet you even polish it every morning. Tell me, does it ever weigh you down?”

Her words struck a nerve he didn’t expect.

She moved again—closer now, pausing only a few feet away. The candlelight caught the silver of her pendant, casting glints onto her throat. Harry tried not to look.

“You said the dead don’t rest,” he said, regaining control of his voice. “What do you mean by that?”

Y/N tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as if deciding how much he could handle. “They’re angry. The victims. Not the ones found dead—no. The real victims. The ones those people hurt. The ones who didn’t get justice. They stir the veil. They scream.”

“Ghosts?” he said, voice flat.

She smiled again. “Isn’t it more comforting to believe they’re just ghosts?”

Harry said nothing.

He didn’t believe in ghosts.

But he believed in patterns. And there was something too perfectly orchestrated about these killings. The way each victim had been publicly accused, legally acquitted—or had their charges dropped altogether. The kind of men who smirked outside courthouses, untouched. Until now.

Until someone—or something—started touching them.

“I need your help,” he said at last, the words like dry stones in his throat.

Y/N arched a brow. “You don’t want my help. You want permission to continue believing what you already think is true.”

“I want to stop people from dying,” he replied.

She studied him for a long, charged moment, then turned away, gathering something from the small writing desk by the fire.

“You came here for facts. Evidence,” she said, her voice lilting. “I deal in truths. They’re not always the same.”

She handed him a photograph—old, printed on faded Polaroid film. A woman. Pale. Terrified. Standing behind a window with her hands pressed to the glass. Harry frowned, flipping it over. No name. No date.

“What is this?” he asked.

Y/N stared into the fire. “The first. Years ago. She came to me for help. She’d been assaulted. Brutalized. The man walked free. I tried to warn her—vengeance changes people. That grief like hers, if left to rot, could draw… other things.”

Harry looked back down at the photo. The woman’s eyes were wide with terror—not at someone in front of her, but at something behind her. A darkness.

“What happened to her?”

Y/N said nothing for a while. Then, softly: “She died. But not before something else answered her pain.”

A silence fell.

The only sound was the soft crackle of the fire.

“Do you know who’s doing this?” Harry asked. “These murders?”

Y/N turned toward him then, fully, her eyes darker now.

“I know what’s doing it,” she said. “And if I tell you, you’ll wish I hadn’t.”

Harry swallowed, and for the first time in a long time, the detective felt the chill of real dread—not the kind that came from danger, but the kind that came from truth.

She took a step closer. “You’re not ready. Not yet. But you will be. When it finds you.”

He held her gaze, and she didn’t look away. A crackle of something unspoken passed between them—tension, curiosity, something else.

It unnerved him. But also—somewhere deeper—intrigued him.

She was maddening. Not at all the demure medium he had expected. But beneath the velvet sarcasm and strange grace, there was something sharp. A woman who had seen horror and didn’t blink. Who held secrets like blades hidden in her bodice.

And damn it—he needed her.

“Tell me what to do,” he said quietly.

She studied him a moment longer. Then her voice, soft but steady: “Come back tonight. Midnight.”

He frowned. “Midnight?”

“The veil’s thinner then. If you want to know what’s happening to your killers, you’ll need to see it. With your own eyes.”

She reached for a small bell jar on the mantel and uncovered it. Inside was a dried sprig of hemlock, brittle and dark. She plucked it gently and handed it to him.

“Take this. Keep it in your pocket.”

“What is it?”

“A precaution.”

Harry looked at it warily but took it. “Against what?”

Her voice dropped low, almost like a prayer.“Against being seen.”

[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor- The Present

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Synopsis:y/n is a hard working painter, trying to make the ends meet. She lives with and takes care of her sick Uncle, the only one she has for a family. She has dreams to make it big, and when the desperation for money strikes, she has to make a choice. Walk away after listening to an incredible deal that would fix all her problems, or take up the deal. A top secret, risky deal, which involves meeting Harry Styles.A man once rumored to be a dangerous secret weapon of a leading mafia. artist!y/n x mafia!harry (he's also a doctor)

Word limit: 5,021

Warnings: Smut. Fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, choking, light degradation.

Author's note: Thank you so much for all your love on the last part. If you guys want me to add your names to my tag list, just drop me a message! Feedback is appreciated, and please re blog to support me. Happy reading:)

____________________________________________

"I swear there's no one on the planet that makes better sandwiches than you, Harry."

Harry and y/n were enjoying a picnic in the park, complete with ham and cheese sandwiches (cut in triangles, per her request), fruit salad, and cookies they had baked together the night before. Much to both of their delight, the park was nearly empty aside from a few toddlers playing in the jungle gym with their mothers.

Or so they thought.

"What are you doing tonight?", Harry asks her, enjoying the fresh air as he leaned against the tree, with his arm around y/n. Her back was towards his chest, and she was looking up at him.

"Oh I have to talk to a client, who wants to buy one of my paintings.", she lies. She had a meeting with Romania tonight.

"After that?", Harry drawls, kissing her neck.

"I promised Uncle Luke we would play pictionary today!", she says, as his lips hum against the pulse point of her neck.

"You can't get enough of me, can you?", she teases.

"No.", he agrees, stroking her hair between his fingers. "I would spend every minute of the day with you if I could."

"I would get bored.", y/n says playfully, and Harry growls, tightening his grip around her waist making her giggle. "I'll remember that the next time we're in bed.", he whispers in her ear, making her blush.

Then she saw them. Three men surrounded different areas of the park. All three of them were looking at them. y/n suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Um, Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I think we should pack up and head home. I'll run late for my meeting with the client.", she says, squeezing his arm gently.

"Already?", he asks, pulling away from her neck and she nods. "I'll spend the night with you tomorrow, okay?"

His face turns into a cute pout, and she wonders how people in his past were intimidated by that face. "Okay. You'll have to make it up to me, baby."

"I will.", she promises, starting to pack everything up. They finished packing their snacks, took their picnic blanket, and y/n took Harry's hand tight in hers, keeping her eyes on the men as they walked to her car.

She drove away soon. "Why don't you drive Harry?", she asks.

"I don't like driving.", he simply says.

"Why is that? Did you have a really bad accident?", she hints.

"Uh...maybe, I don't know. I don't enjoy it. I like walking, and the hospital's close from my house.", he shrugs, looking outside the window. He looked so innocent to y/n.

She drops Harry, before leaving. She had a bad feeling, and she grabbed his hand before he could go. She had already scanned the place to see if the men had followed her, but they hadn't.

"Harry, be careful, yeah?", she says, worried.

"Yeah, why?", he strokes her cheek, noticing that something's bothering her.

"The world is not a good place.", she squeezes his hand. "Lock your doors, okay?"

"I will..are you sure you're okay?"

She smiles, bringing his hand to her lips to kiss it. "I'm okay. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

Harry nods, kissing her forehead. "Remember I'm here if you need to talk about something."

The guilt storm hits her hard again, and she nods. "Thank you. I gotta go now."

"Yeah. See you, sunshine."

She had to do it. She had to tell Romania that this has to stop. She got to the building, took the elevator, waited impatiently for it to open and Hans greets her at the door.

"Ah, in time today Miss y/l/n", he remarks, looking at his watch.

"I'm not always late.", y/n mumbles and he chuckles, stepping aside. "Come in."

Romania sat on the couch as usual, and y/n wonders if she gets up from there once in a while. Oliver was not standing, for a change. He was sitting on the seat next to the one that y/n usually occupies when she's here.

"Good evening, y/n.", Romania gives her a smile and Oliver ignores her, classic Oliver.

"Hi.", y/n nods, taking her seat.

"Anything stronger than water?", Hans asks her, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, just water. Thanks.", y/n says to him. She didn't want to drink with people who plot to kill other people who got into tragic accidents and lost their memory.

"So? What are your updates this week?", Romania asks her, keeping one of her lean legs over the other and looking at her with interest. Oliver turns her head to look at her, and Hans keeps her water in front of her before sitting on the table he usually leans on.

y/n got talking. She told them everything she found out and didn't. She told them about the ring as well.

"So he's still holding on to that.", Romania smiled. "That's a great break through, y/n."

"Was that Reagen's?", y/n guesses.

"Yes. She didn't know, but Harry was planning to propose to her after that night. After their last mission. Diamond ring, silver beading, wasn't it?"

y/n nods. Romania looks at Hans for confirmation who nodded. "That's the one."

"That means some part of him still isn't ready to let go of Reagen.", Romania says. "Or it was a slip of the mask. He wasn't expecting you to search his room and find the ring. He could easily lie to you, like he probably has numerous times now. Whatever is necessary to keep his identity secret."

"I really think you're wrong, Romania.", y/n says softly. "And I'm sorry that you all lost your friend, but he's no longer in there, if he ever was. The Harry I know is a kind person. He isn't capable of hurting anyone."

"You've fallen for him, haven't you?", Romania sighs. "You're in love and you've been sleeping with him."

Was it love? A fire ignited in her chest whenever she thought about him. Her whole body tingled when he touched her. She wanted to go home to him every day. Was that love? y/n didn't know. She hasn't been in love before.

"I heard he was good in bed.", Hans says, nodding. "Lot of girls wanted to get laid but he only ever had eyes for Reagen."

"He trusts you," Oliver says. "You've gained his trust, y/n. This week, you really have to destroy his walls and get him to remember everything. You don't understand. We need him. His life is in danger if keeps his act going on any longer."

"I-I'll take him somewhere safe, where no one can hurt him.", y/n whispers, then thought about how dumb that sounded.

Romania scoffed. "We have men everywhere, y/n. You have no idea how big we are. You're lucky it's just the three of us talking to you."

"I've seen guys following us, looking at us weirdly. Are they your men?"

"Maybe, maybe not.", Hans shrugs. "Can be enemies plotting his death. Too scared to come any closer to him. They were all terrified of Harry once they got to know he was our secret weapon."

"W-Why do people have to be so terrified of him?", she couldn't help but ask the same question she asked last meeting.

"He is not the man you think he is."Oliver spoke slowly, like he was warning her. "Take his fondness towards you as leverage and find out what we need. Do your job and let us worry about protecting him, okay?"

"You have time till seven days, and I have a plan.", Romania tells her. "Do it as I say, and you'll be done. You'll be free to do as you please, whether he remembers or not."

"B-But I can't just leave him-"

"That's your fault, getting romantically involved with him."

Yes. It was her fault. y/n nods, finishing the entire glass of water. "Tell me your plan."

"Road trip.", she says, clapping her hands together.

"That's your great plan?", y/n asks confused.

"Hans.", Romania said and Hans spread out a map on the table. "Reagen and Harry were smuggling gold from San Francisco to New Mexico, on road.", he says, pointing at the places on the map.

"From here.", y/n spoke softly, and they nodded. She lived outside the city, in a small town near San Francisco, but the nearest city to her is Dan Francisco. 

"It's a sixteen hour road trip. It'll take you two days if you cover 8 hours every day. Four days if you cover four hours every day. The choice is yours. But we need Harry here by the end of this week." Hans pointed to a place near the border. It wasn't Mexico yet.

"This was where the blast took place. Where Reagen died, and where Harry lost his memory. We want you to take him through the same route they took on their last journey together. We're confident Harry will remember something, if not everything."

"You want me to bring him to the same place he lost his past life..to see if the place brings back his memories?", y/n put it together.

"Precisely.", Romania nods. "Now what you want to do in those four days is not my concern. Get a room, go to a party, go to the beach, go to a movie. I don't care. But I need Harry's memories back. Traveling on this route, a route he has taken many times before, has to be the key."

It was a good plan if it works. "And if he remembers?"

"Leave the rest to us.", Oliver says, and y/n buries her head in her hands as she thinks. "Is there another option?"

"This is our best option y/n.", Hans speaks softly. "Our last hope. You can make it happen."

Just one more week and she can put all this behind her. Of course she knew that wasn't possible as she is now involved in Harry's life, but if at all he remembers, even a glimpse of who he used to be, no one can hurt him. They'll all be scared. Things might change between y/n and Harry, but at least he'd be safe, she thought. Yes, she had to make him remember.

"Road trip it is, then."

_____________________________________________________________

Harry sits on his bed, watching as y/n sorts through his wardrobe. "Do you have anything other than these formal shirts?", she asks, finding only more and more of single colored shirts.

"No. That's all I need.", Harry shrugs. "You don't like them?"

y/n turns to smile at him, and walks to him. "I love them, Harry. But for our trip, you definitely need more. I'm gonna take you shopping."

"I don't like shopping..", Harry mumbles, grabbing her hips and pulling her in between his legs. His thumbs draw circles on her skin that's exposed. y/n was wearing a crop top and shorts. "Can I not just love on you for the entire day?", he asks, kissing her neck and y/n feels his soft hair as she moves her hand to play with his hair.

"As much as I would love that..", y/n kisses his lips, making him smile. "You are in dire need of new clothes." She squeaks as Harry pulls her onto his lap. "We can have our fun later."

"The kind of fun we like?", he asks, moving her hair back to expose her neck, attaching his lips to her soft skin.

"Uh huh.", y/n sucks in a breath, twisting a curl around his finger. "Why can't your friend just drive the car back herself?", he asks.

y/n had made up a story to tell Harry about the road trip to Mexico. It had to be convincing. Romania gave her that story as well. She had to say that it was her friend's, and her cousin had driven to San Francisco last time he was here but he took the flight back, so the car was still with her. Now he needed it back, and he was too busy to come here himself.

"Cause she's busy. I owe her one.", y/n says, feeling horrible to lie to him, but she had no option. She would get him on the road, and try her best to make him recollect his memories. If he didn't remember, she would tell him the truth before the week ended. She wouldn't let him get killed. He might leave her when she tells him the truth but it's better than him dying. She could live with regret, but she couldn't, knowing that she helped someone with murder.

"And you need a trip. You've been working non stop, everyone needs a break.", y/n kisses his jaw, and Harry smiles, "I don't need breaks, I love work. The only reason I agreed is because of you."

"You can't say no to me, can you?", y/n pats his cheeks.

"You're cute.", he chuckles, before lifting her off his lap and standing on his feet. "Let's go."

y/n took Harry shopping, and he just stood there like one of the mannequins themselves, while y/n sorted through the clothes. He seemed to be enjoying looking at her, rather than the different collection of clothes.

"Here, try these on. There's the trial room.", y/n says as she places a pile of shirts onto Harry's hands.

"Um, okay." Harry walks to the trial rooms, and y/n chuckles to herself. He was so adorable and innocent. y/n even tried google searching about him, but she didn't find much. She wanted to know why people were scared of him. She wished she could talk to Reagen. She was the only person not afraid of him, and who was closest to him.

“How’s this?”

y/n gives Harry a once over, as he poses for her in a floral shirt.He hadn’t done all the buttons up, and she could see half of his butterfly tattoo.

 She bites her lip, nodding. “Get it.”

Harry looks around, before reaching a hand to tug her into the trial room. “Harry! What if people see?”

“There’s no one around, love.”, Harry pins her to the wall, trapping her with his large frame. “Are you getting worked up?”

“No..”, she lies, breathing heavily as he leans closer, his breath fanning over her face. “No?”, he smirks, pressing her lips onto her hers, and biting her bottom lip. She opens her mouth to let his tongue inside, and lets him explore her mouth. Harry’s knee comes in between her legs, separating them. One hand holds her hip while the other slips up her thigh, to her core. 

She clenches her thighs immediately, and he pinches her thigh. “Keep them open. Let me see for myself if you’re wet.”

She plays with the curls on the back of his head, and grips his shoulder as he parts her panties and runs a finger through her sleek wet folds. 

“Ah hah, looks like someone was lying.”

“Harry stop..t-they’ll hear us..”, she whispers, fighting back a moan as he slips one finger inside her. She was wearing a skirt, so he had easy access. 

“You’ll just have to be quiet then, baby.”, he hums, adding another finger and pumping them in and out of her slowly, in a dangerously slow pace. “Should I let you cum? You lied to me.”

“Y-Yes, please..”, she whimpers, starting to ride his fingers because he wasn’t using them fast enough for her to get off. He pulled away his fingers immediately, and she whined in annoyance. 

“You’ll take what I give you, won’t you sweetheart?”, he questions, the hand holding her hip moving to her throat. “Fuck..yes..”, she answers, her eyes fluttering as she looks at his hand around her throat. “Please..”

“Please what? You want me to choke you?”

“Yes, a-and let me cum.”, she murmurs, and he cocks an eyebrow, pressing his fingers around her neck just enough to make her vision a little bit disoriented, but it felt so good. “Please.”, she quickly adds and he hums in satisfaction. “Get inside me.”

“You’ll get to cum only if you are a good girl and be quiet, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”, she agrees, nodding her head and he releases her neck, turning her around. “If you make a sound, I’m gonna stuff these panties into your pretty little mouth, got it?”

“Uh huh..” Harry flips up her skirt and drags down her panties, before unbuckling his pants and getting his dick out of his boxers. She keeps her hands on the mirror covered wall, and he keeps his hand on her shoulder as he slips his hard cock into her pussy.

“Fuck, so tight around me. Such a perfect hole.”, he groans, and she gasps at the feeling of being full, before quickly remembering that she should be quiet. Harry fucks her deep and quick, making her bite her lip so hard she was sure it was bleeding. It felt so fucking good. 

“Feels good, baby? This what you wanted?”Harry's fingers dig into the flesh of her hip.

“So good.”, she hummed, and let out a small scream as he thrusts quickly, and it hit just the spot. She was struggling to keep standing. 

“What did I tell you?”Harry grabs her ass, squeezing one of her cheeks. “What would happen if you couldn’t be quiet?”

“Y-You’d stuff my panties in m-my mouth..oh god.,”, she moans, and he picks up her panties. “That’s right. Want to let the whole world know what a dirty little girl you are? Open your mouth.”

His fingers grabbed her jaw and squeezed, making her open her mouth and he stuffs her panties into her mouth, making her moan around it as he continues to fuck her. “That’s better. Do you still think you deserve to cum?”

She couldn’t answer with the panties in her mouth, and she didn’t think she would be able to even if she could have. She was seeing stars. But she managed a weak nod.

“Yeah? I don’t think so.``, Harry quickened his pace, feeling him getting close and she clenched around him. “Fuck yes, just like that.”, he groans. “B-Because I’m nice, I’ll let you cum. Let go, baby.”

It doesn’t take much longer for her to tip over the edge, and he has to hold her up to make sure she doesn’t fall on her knees. Her legs were shaking from the orgasm, and her head was floating. Harry groaned as he released as well, slowing down his strokes. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, breathing as they came down from their highs. 

He takes the panties out of her mouth, and presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Can I pull out?”

She nods, and he does, slowly before turning her around and pushing all the cum dripping down her thighs inside her. She whines from sensitivity. “You’ll hold everything in, right love? I’ll take care of it when we get home after our little shopping trip.”

“I-I think we’re done shopping for the day..”, she sighs, head leaning on his chest and he chuckles, pulling her into his arms. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re so perfect.”

___________________________________________________

Two days later, y/n and Harry were ready for their trip. She had planned it all for four days, the last day would be the seventh day. The end of her four weeks.

"You can always call me anytime.", y/n tells Uncle Luke as she checks the house over and over again, to make sure he has everything. She had found a home nurse who would take care of him when she was gone.

"I'll be fine, y/n. I told you I don't need a nurse!", he says as y/n checks his medicine cabinet, making sure nothing needs a refill.

"I know you can take care of yourself, the nurse is so I don't freak out, okay?", she says, sitting down when her uncle grabs her wrist.

"I'll be good, I promise.", he says, smiling with the soft glint in his eyes. "But you haven't been on a trip since ages, y/n. I want you to have fun."

y/n smiles, squeezing his hand. "You used to love going to new places and outdoors. I wish you were little again so we could both go get ice cream, and I'd push you on the swing in the park.."

y/n leans forward to hug her uncle, closing her eyes in comfort as his arms wrap around her. "You remind me of Reena sometimes. She would be a beautiful smart girl like you right now, if she was alive."

"She would. I'm sure she's looking at you from up there.", y/n says to him, and Uncle Luke smiles at her. "My little girl. I'll see her some day."

"Yes, until then, you're stuck with me."

y/n gets him to laugh. "Seriously, have fun y/n, don't think about me, okay? I'll call every day, but don't spend too much time worrying about me."

"I'll try.", she nods.

"Guess you gotta go, Harry will be waiting for you.", he says, stroking her hair back.

"Yup. It's just four days, I can do this right?", she asks for assurance, and Uncle Luke nods, placing a kiss on her forehead. "You can. You know, while I was making tea yesterday, I put in salt instead of sugar?"

"Oh god. That must have tasted horrible."

"My point is, y/n, don't trust everything you see or hear. You can't even differentiate salt from sugar if you don't look carefully."

y/n's eyebrows creased, and she bit her lip, thinking about that statement. Did Uncle Luke mean something? He did throw around words like that often, but this seemed different.

"What do you mean, Uncle?", she asks, pulling back from the hug to look at him.

"What do I mean?", he asks, confused. "Wasn't I talking about Reena?"

y/n knew he had forgotten, and there was no point bringing it up again. He would only get sad about the fact that he forgot something he just said. y/n made sure she packed everything, and went to go pick Harry.

She waits for him in the car, and after half an hour of waiting, he finally comes out. She gets out of the car to help him load his bag into the trunk.

"I thought you were gonna bail on me. We're already two hours past the time we were supposed to leave. We have to-"

y/n stops talking as she turns to look at Harry. He had gotten a haircut, shaved his mustache and trimmed his beard. He looked so handsome, the haircut made his eyes stand out. His green eyes were shining bright. He immediately looked a few years younger. His skin glowed in the sunlight. He wore a black t shirt exposing his muscular arms, and displaying all his tattoos. He wore baggy jeans and sneakers with that.

"Enjoying the view? We're not even in Mexico, yet.", Harry smirks at her, his dimples popping.

She blushes, pushing on his shoulder. He looked incredibly hot. "Who are you? What did you do with Doctor Turner?"

"He's gone for vacation, won't be available for four days. I would recommend rescheduling the appointment if you had one.", he says, making her giggle and hug him. "You look great Harry."

"Thank you, and you always do, y/n. Sorry for the delay, I had some last minute packing left. I'm ready to go now. Oh! I didn't know it was convertible.", he says, looking at the car.

"Isn't it sick? I thought you'll like it.", y/n says, watching him go around and look at it.

"Interesting," he agrees. "It's safe, right?"

"Of course. I drive safely. Hop in, let's begin our trip!"

Harry smiles and kisses her before getting in. Harry asks her questions about where they'll be staying, and she tells him she booked a room in a hotel near the beach for the day.

y/n sang along to the music and Harry listened to her with a smile. She really was a sunshine in his life. They stopped for tea on the way, and for a break. It was a little hut-like place, overlooking the hills. It was the only spot she could find on the highway.

y/n clicked some pictures of Harry as he leaned against the car. He caught her, and brought a hand to his face. "Whyy?", he drawls.

"It's a beautiful view!", she says, smiling as she looks at the photos.

"Let me take yours then! Stand there.", he points to a tree, and snatches her phone out of her hands.

"Okay." y/n walks over and strikes a pose, making Harry grin as he clicks. She made a funny face for the next one, and Harry pinched her side playfully when she came back running to him.

"You're so pretty.", he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her head as she looks at the photos. She smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder and tilting her head up to meet his lips. "Thank you."

They hit the road again. Harry had come off a night shift the day before so he was tired. He yawns and leans his head on the window.

"Will you get sleepy and crash if I sleep?", he asks.

"No, I think I'll survive for a while. We have one and half hours more, get recharged.", she pats his knee.

He was too tired to protest, and he let his eyes close. y/n kept looking at him sideways when she could. Harry looked so peaceful. She wished she could keep him safe with her like this forever.

Harry woke up energetic before they got to their hotel. It was a small place, but the view from their room was beautiful. Palm trees stood tall along the beach, dancing to the tune of the breeze emanating from the waters of the sea. They missed the sunset, but the sky was still painted in hues.

They decided to freshen up and then take a walk on the beach side. y/n changed into a purple and pink blouse, paired with matching shorts and put on her sandals. Harry chose a simple white shirt and black shorts. Harry took her hand when they walked, making y/n's heart flutter. They had held hands before, but now they were away from everyone, in their own world and happy.

Then they sat down on the sand while looking at the calm waters. "Why San Francisco?", y/n asks Harry as she traces her thumb on the cross tattoo on his hand. "You didn't grow up here, did you?"

"I don't think so..", Harry murmurs. "I think I'm from London."

She knew he was British from his accent that was incredibly hot, but London was new information. "Then why did you move here?", she asks.

"I-I don't know..I've been here since the time I remember.", he whispers.

"Move back to London, Harry. Or Mexico, or somewhere.", she mumbles, making him look at her. "Leaving you and my life behind?"

"That's what's safe for you. You can get a job there too, build a beautiful house and fall in love with a beautiful girl. Build your life there, Harry. Be happy.", she whispers, kissing his cheek. She couldn't tell him anything more.

"I built my life here, y/n. I don't know if I can do it again. I'm content with what I have now. I don't think it's possible to fall in love again either."

"Again?", y/n lifts her head from his shoulder. Was he talking about Reagen?

He tucks some of her hair behind her ear. "Yeah. I'm in love with you, y/n."

She felt her ribs hurting from the butterflies fluttering from her stomach up to her ribs, pressing on them. Her heart beat so fast, she thought it would explode out of her chest. y/n stroked his cheek as he looked at her with those gorgeous eyes. Her own eyes filled with tears, so she closed them, not wanting him to see and pressed her lips onto his soft ones. Harry's hand moves to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as he kisses her passionately.

"I love you too, Harry.", y/n whispers back, and touches their foreheads together. It was tearing her apart, hurting him. She would be responsible for breaking his heart. She wanted to walk into the sea and scream, letting the waves of the sea drown her voice.

Will he think think that what they have between them is also an act, when he gets to know the truth? But this was all true. y/n couldn't deny it anymore. She was in love with this man. The man who came into her life unexpectedly, and now without whom she cannot imagine living without.

"I'm happy, y/n. As long as I have you, I'll always be happy.", Harry whispers, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

[babyyhoneyyyyy]

「✦ 🚨 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 🍷 ✦」 - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: "Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer". Where Lizzie, a devoted homemaker, meets Harry, a police officer in charge of interrogating her after a mysterious fire at her mansion that resulted in the death of her husband. Word count: 4k+ Smut: 🔞 *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

A call to 911 is usually more than enough in emergency situations. 

Within minutes, the sound of sirens envelops you, with bright lights in red and blue hues cutting through the space as if they belong to it, receiving professional help from specialized teams while they try to talk to you and understand the situation. But after that, a sense of shock takes over, making you question whether what you're experiencing is part of a third-dimensional movie, distorting your own reality and transporting you to an alternate dimension for the most part.

That's exactly how Lizzie felt after flames consumed a large part of her property. She had sensed the smoke penetrating her nostrils, but what truly disturbed her was the buzz of screams. Cries from a man calling her name that quickly faded into whispers.

Lizzie found herself unable to react in any way other than trying to escape, seeking to reach him and see what was happening. However, the house seemed to be crumbling around her, and eventually, she fainted before reaching the door. That was the only clear memory she retained from that day; everything else started with a distant voice calling her, waking her up to find herself under a white ceiling and the scent of disinfectant.

Her stay in the hospital lasted just a day, more as a precautionary measure than for any injuries, of which, fortunately, she was free. She was in almost perfect condition, something that surprised even the doctors themselves.

But for that reason, when they confirmed her health, they chose to deliver the news to her without any euphemisms.

Contrary to her, her husband wasn't as fortunate. Apparently, the fire originated in his own studio, giving him no chance to escape and consuming him with the flames.

She had become a widow.

Her lawyer presented himself as her main support, assisting her in the necessary procedures to change her documents, update them, and allowing her to handle the move, the funeral, and subsequently, the burial.

Finally, when all that concluded, Lizzie was met with a sigh from her lawyer, who handed her a small envelope. She accepted it, while he observed her for a few more minutes before leaving his office.

A lump tightened Lizzie's throat; anxiety ran through her veins saturating all her senses as her hands trembled slightly when opening the envelope. And suddenly, everything around her seemed to freeze when she saw her name written alongside her original last name, followed by the phrase 'widow of Montecarlo,' and the text culminated with 'an entirety in inheritance'.

Lizzie closed her eyes for a moment. She knew the implications of that, beyond any property, money, jewelry, or cars, beyond any tangible thing she could conceive in her mind. This represented a new beginning, one she hadn't even imagined when she got married at the young age of eighteen.

She swallowed hard as she placed the envelope in the safe and let out a final sigh as she left the office, returning to her room. She walked through various rooms overflowing with classical décor.

Her heels echoed on the wooden floors, allowing their sound to reverberate through the rooms. The house was deserted; her lawyer had already left, and there was no trace of any household staff, as per her own request. She had decided to give them all a break, especially those who had also managed to escape unscathed from the fire in her previous property, which was already under renovation. She had determined that once it was ready, she would put it up for sale immediately. She couldn't bear the idea of walking through that house again.

The last door at the end of the hallway on the second floor housed her bedroom. It was a master bedroom that, at that moment, only contained her belongings still packed in suitcases, lacking any visible decoration.

However, as she approached, the sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

Lizzie halted her steps and instinctively checked the delicate diamond watch on her wrist. It was six in the evening, and she hadn't scheduled any visits.

She hesitated for a moment, considering whether to go back to the first floor just to attend to an unexpected visitor, but the doorbell rang again, possibly indicating the urgency of the person. With a sigh, she turned her body and descended the wide stairs leading to the entrance and, finally, to her door.

The doorbell rang once more just as her hand reached for the handle, and she couldn't help but display a slightly annoyed expression when she opened the door, finding a tall man standing in front of her, causing her to pause for a moment.

The individual in question had a distinctive presence, with a young face and well-defined features, and although his hair seemed short, it revealed some curls. However, what unquestionably caught Lizzie's attention the most was his uniform.

It was an official attire consisting of a white shirt, a bulletproof vest with letters marked on the chest, and to add even more, a prominent badge was situated above it.

Lizzie felt her heart start to beat faster and chose not to say anything until the man interpreted it as a signal to introduce himself.

Unlike her furrowed brow, the young man immediately responded with a small smile, revealing dimples on his face. He glanced down for a moment, and Lizzie noticed he held a small notebook in his hands. Then, a husky voice spoke, "Miss Elizabeth?" Lizzie simply nodded. "I'm Harry Styles, the police officer in charge of your case".

The moment these words were spoken, Lizzie felt time speed up. She quickly blinked as she nodded and stepped aside at the door, allowing the man, whom she now identified as Harry, to step onto her property.

When they entered the main room together, she led the way and settled into one of the armchairs, gesturing for the young man to do the same before the door closed behind them. Lizzie avoided looking down to ensure her ring remained on her ring finger. Instead, she kept her gaze forward, watching Harry's subtle movements closely as he settled into the luxurious sofa and casually glanced around.

"Would you like some water?" she suddenly asked, catching him completely off guard. Although she didn't even know where that question came from, realizing that there wouldn't be another offer due to the absence of staff in the house, she thought it would be a kind gesture before they began.

"No, thank you". He finally responded after a moment's thought, grateful but with a half-smile, declining the offer. He had received strict instructions from his boss not to get distracted from his task. This was his first field mission, so he preferred not to mess it up.

"Cookies?"

Once again, his answer was negative, feeling increasingly embarrassed as he saw the woman's expression, who nodded gently and pouted slightly as she resigned herself back to the sofa.

Harry couldn't help but smile, clearing his throat before returning his gaze to the small notebook in his hands.

"Okay, I think we can start now".

The inquiries about that night varied in their formulation, from questions like "What were you doing when you heard the noise?" to "Were you nearby when you noticed the house was on fire?". Each one required an answer that related to and understood the situation.

Lizzie sensed that this was an interrogation aimed at connecting the loose ends, in case they found any evidence against her, so she made an effort to recall the events of that night accurately, inevitably reliving them.

At least an additional hour passed, she noted once again the clock on her wrist, confirming that more time had elapsed and that now only the dim artificial light of the living room illuminated the space. This incident was due to a malfunction, as she hadn't visited this house in many years and it was evident that there were still pending repairs. Despite this, she decided not to mention it to the policeman, preferring him to bring it up or simply ignore it. However, as the conversation became more casual, he didn't mention it.

The questions about the incident of that night gradually faded away, giving way to lighter questions, and it was only then that Lizzie decided to join him.

"Do you have a girl?" The question hung in the air as Harry observed her intently. Lizzie noticed how he ran his tongue over his lips, trying to alleviate the dryness of the conversation, ending with a soft bite on his lower lip before responding.

"No- Uh-" he paused, clearing his throat before continuing. "I've always been very focused on my work, thanks to my parents, so no, I really wouldn't have the time", he expressed, although a slight gesture of frustration crossed his lips before he continued speaking. "I mean, if I were truly interested in someone, I would find the time, but for now, there's no one". He concluded his explanation with a light sigh.

Harry awaited with some tension, anticipating a sarcastic response from Lizzie, considering the twists and turns he had taken to reach his explanation, however, instead of that, he saw her nod with a understanding expression on her face. A comforting relief washed over Harry in that moment, as if Lizzie's silent confirmation somehow validated his words and nerves.

Why did he suddenly feel so nervous?

"May I know the reason for the question?" he inquired after a few moments, waiting for a brief explanation of the young woman's interest, although in reality he showed more curiosity about her response. Harry watched as Lizzie's dark eyes settled on his face once again, subtly descending to his hands, still intertwined in his lap as he leaned slightly towards her. His heart began to beat quickly again as he followed her gaze.

"I don't see a ring on your finger". Lizzie responded with a slight shrug, initially downplaying the question, something that Harry found indecipherable whether he liked it or not.

"Aren't you too young to have been married?" he suddenly asked, on impulse as he tried to delve into the topic, although he almost immediately regretted the inopportune nature of his question.

Although the intention was good, the question came off as bold, especially given the situation he knew the woman was in. Harry lowered his gaze, feeling a lump in his throat as silence lingered, trying to find a quick way to change the subject.

Lizzy, on the contrary, continued to watch him, aware that the real question was implicit: «Aren't you too young to be a widow?» Still, she decided to answer: "Yes, I am".

"Excuse my boldness". Were the words she received barely after her response. Lizzie hesitated for a moment whether those apologies were genuine, for if they were, he wouldn't have waited for her response. However, this didn't bother her; rather, she found it entertaining..

"Don't worry", she replied with a nod of her head, maintaining a hidden smile as she looked down for a moment. "It's not the first time I've heard that".

Harry fell silent as he watched the woman rise from her seat, feeling his heart beat hard, fearing being expelled from the house for his audacity. However, he began to relax as he saw the young woman head towards a corner of the room, a little away from him, where a wide collection of bottles rested on a shelf. Her hand rested on one of them, dissipating the tension in the air.

"Would you like some?" Lizzie asked Harry, gently lifting a glass of whiskey. Harry was forced to swallow before answering: "I can't". He admitted sincerely.

Lizzie simply nodded and returned to her glass, taking another sip before sitting in front of him on the sofa. All while Harry watched her attentively.

"I understand", she replied after another sip. "I just wanted you to know that you're passing up the best whiskey in the country". Harry's smile was the response Lizzie was hoping for to continue. "But if that's not an option for you and that's why you're not having it, the offer of cookies still stands".

Harry's eyes repeatedly slid over Lizzie's face. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that drove him to keep looking at her. Perhaps it was her apparent youth, her glow despite her recent husband's death, or the feeling of prohibition by remaining in her house after the interrogation had concluded.

However, the time that had passed was enough for him to regret his decision.

"In fact, I'll accept the offer this time". He announced.

And for the first time that night, he noticed a similarity between her and himself: a dimple that appeared on her cheek when she smiled.

"Perfect".

For at least a quarter of an hour, time passed. Harry found distraction in admiring the architecture and luxury while Lizzie busied herself in the kitchen. In the distance, Harry caught the sweet aroma of the cookies, awakening his appetite as he waited eagerly. Finally, he saw Lizzie approach with a tray, possibly silver, and place it on the central table of the living room. It was then that he realized there was not only food, but also liquids.

In his eagerness to discover, Harry neglected the cookies as his hand quickly reached for the glass of white liquid next to the main plate. He contemplated the liquid for a moment, feeling its warmth on his fingers before perceiving a soft voice rising beside him, at the same time that the sofa slightly gave way under his weight.

"I refrained from adding alcohol. There's only milk", he heard her laugh as he held the glass between his hands, not daring to look to the side. "You can try it to confirm".

Harry closed his eyes briefly, letting the voice fill his senses.

From the moment she entered the house, he had ignored the sweet scent of her perfume. He avoided looking at her bare legs when she crossed them during the conversation. He even refrained from looking at her for too long while she spoke.

However, he ended up doing exactly the opposite. At this point, he had engraved in his memory the smell of her perfume and constantly wondered how significant it would be. He had memorized her posture, and instead of using his notebook, he kept himself busy by observing her intently.

"Everyone knows that I'm a good girl, officer".

His eyes suddenly opened.

His attention was inevitably drawn to her once more, finding her finally by his side, watching him intently. Time seemed to stand still around them. Harry couldn't discern with certainty what was driving him to act, whether it was simply Lizzie's close presence or the use of the expression "good girl", yet something inside him was beginning to flood him with a comforting sensation, making him feel warm and filled with a desperate longing to get closer to her.

Harry quickly turned, averting his gaze from Lizzie, and refocused his attention on the glass of milk and the cookies still on the tray. Suddenly his craving for food vanished, and he preferred to take a sip of the milk, savoring its sweetness, although it didn't quench his thirst. It wasn't until he had almost finished his drink that he mustered up the courage to face the somber gaze of the woman beside him again.

Harry had faced the feeling of intimidation on various occasions, especially in front of authority figures older than him, with serious countenances. However, this time was different. Sitting next to her, with her large eyes fixed on him, he experienced a strange sense of intimidation, although he couldn't understand why, but instead of rejecting it, he felt a growing curiosity that propelled his body forward.

Unconsciously, he found himself moving closer to her with a subtle motion, with his lips parted and close enough to brush against her face, and at the moment he thought he was about to break the tension, he found himself enveloped in a void.

His confusion was reflected in the widening of his eyes, which blinked a couple of times before returning to the front, where he found Lizzie standing in front of him. His gaze immediately fell, and he moistened his lips, preparing to speak, perhaps to apologize for feeling her distance as discomfort, but before he could say anything, he felt nails digging into his cheeks, lifting his face.

Harry tried to move forward, stretching his arms for more, although he was immediately stopped. His cheeks were released, while his hands were held back.

Quickly, Lizzie had taken the handcuffs that were still on his belt while he became aware of his now more extended position in space, with his legs spread apart, leaving room for her to position herself. Before Harry could understand what was happening, his wrists were trapped in the handcuffs, leaving him restrained in the armchair.

He tried to glance back, but the hands grabbed his cheeks once again, although with more force, ensuring visible marks were left. Forced to keep his focus on her, he could clearly distinguish her: her brown eyes, once bright from the room's light, now seemed darker, fixed on him as she sat on his lap, generating a warmth that consumed him.

He needed to be released. And not just from the handcuffs.

Then time began to pass quickly, just like the palpitations of his heart. His lips parted, seeking to catch his breath, but found only agitation, while small moans escaped from his throat at the wet kisses that left marks on his neck.

He wanted more.

He felt his shirt slipping off his body, feeling a slight coolness on his chest, soon replaced by the warmth of the kisses he received. A hand joined the game, caressing him as he tried to lower the fabric as much as possible, frustrated by the handcuffs that prevented his complete release.

He wanted more.

The hand descended, quickly unbuttoning his pants as he rose on the armchair, holding his weight and that of the woman on him. Both rose enough to pull down his pants to his calves, until he could push himself to remove his shoes and pants with the help of his feet.

But still, he wanted more.

He was beginning to experience a growing desperation as time passed. The palpitations in his chest kept him on edge, rising and falling just enough to provoke sighs, but just when they seemed to be heading where he needed them most, they rose again.

The moans filled the room as Harry began to move more forcefully, trying to seek something more than just a simple rubbing between his underwear and Lizzie's skirt. At first, he thought maybe she would feel sorry for seeing him like that, but seeing her eyes turn back to him without compassion, he realized he was wrong.

His breath caught when he saw Lizzie slowly unbuttoning her blouse, with agonizing slowness. Even when he prepared for his work as a policeman, he had not experienced such painful exercises as seeing her with her naked tits brushing his face, and not being able to feel them. 

"I saw you very thirsty", she whispered, her voice resonating in a softer tone than usual, awakening in Harry a sensitivity he could barely recognize at that moment. "Do you still want milk?"

His eyes brightened at the question, his head nodding before he could articulate a response; that was all Lizzie needed to pick up the half-finished glass of milk and pour it unhesitatingly over her breasts.

Harry paused for a moment, watching the white liquid carelessly spilling over the woman's nipples, seeing how the drops gradually disappeared over the edge of her skirt. He let out a barely audible sigh, unable to contain it, and then shifted his gaze to Lizzie, who looked at him with a mischievous smile, as if she had made a small oversight, although Harry received it with gratitude. He felt so grateful that, if necessary, he would have fallen to his knees to express his gratitude right at that moment.

"Oh, shit".

Lizzie let out a sigh of relief as she held Harry's hair, who finally decided to approach and take one of her breasts in his mouth. She could feel his tongue gently swirling around her nipple, alternating between delicate movements and firmer suctions.

Instinctively, her hands slid over his body, caressing his skin until they reached the edge of her skirt, which was already starting to feel too warm. She sensed Harry's lips slightly parting from her, which prompted her to immediately open her eyes to look at him.

She was met with his angelic face, with green eyes expanding towards her from below, his curly and disheveled hair, his moist face, and his lips with traces of white liquid at the corners. It was an image that was etched in her memory and urged her to act with greater urgency.

She took a deep breath before separating slightly from him, hearing a complaint starting to form on his lips before he fell silent upon realizing that Lizzie's skirt, along with her underwear, was disappearing. Despite feeling close, she had to take a few steps forward to return to Harry's lap, all while he watched her with his dark eyes, showing submission but pretending to hide something more. Lizzie wondered what it could be, but she didn't give it much importance as she returned to her position, feeling his cock more comfortably beneath her, although still covered by his underwear, brushing against her now naked cunt.

No more than a second passed before she refocused on her own pleasure, starting to move in circles around him again, while moans filled the room once more, both hers and Harry's, who, through his sounds, begged for mercy.

The rhythm intensified, leading Lizzie to abandon the circular movements and start with pelvic movements back and forth. Her excitement fluids facilitated the sliding over the cotton fabric of his underwear, allowing her to perceive more than she had imagined.

Contrary to his own satisfaction, Harry couldn't bear it anymore. A mix of excitement, desperation, discomfort, and anger invaded him as he couldn't feel completely satisfied. Although he had obeyed Lizzie's words, seeing her rubbing herself on him without really feeling her touch deeply frustrated him. He found no other way out than to start pushing forcefully, making the woman's body move sharply on top of him, causing her to open her eyes once more.

"Please", he managed to articulate, while his hips moved slightly.

Lizzie watched him for a few additional seconds before a mocking smile appeared on her face.

"Are you that needy for my pussy?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he felt three fingers invading his mouth, silencing him immediately as he sucked and moistened them. Then, as if his prayers had been heard, he felt Lizzie moving slightly away from his lap. He saw her kneel in front of him, taking off his underwear and exposing his erect member.

A sigh escaped his lips as the fingers, soaked with his own saliva and pre-cum, caressed his glans and began to masturbate him with the palm of her hand.

"Fuck me".

His voice emerged without hesitation, rough from the dryness in his tongue and throat, yet irresistibly enticing for Lizzie; eager for Harry.

"Is that an order?" she asked, teasingly. "What do you plan to do if I don't? After all, those handcuffs are in your hands, not mine". The massage on his cock became more vigorous, causing jolts from the fires he felt under her hand.

"Let's try again, officer", she suddenly mentioned, making his eyes close for a moment. His profession hadn't even crossed his mind until that moment, but the prohibition of the moment wasn't what affected him the most, but a fire that resurged within him, rising from his lower part to his chest, filling him with excitement as he heard her.

"Shit- Please, please fuck me".

A fleeting smile appeared on Lizzie's face and quickly disappeared as she sat in the place she had desired so much but from which she had refrained, not suppressing the moan that escaped once she achieved it.

She was about to start more energetic circular movements, finding something to hold on to this time, but her actions were overshadowed by those of the man beneath her, who had taken the lead, pounding forcefully and swiftly, making her sigh softly as she allowed herself to be enveloped by the pleasurable sensation.

Then she realized that Harry's urgency was expressing itself in that way, and she let herself go, allowing him to take the lead even when his hands remained restrained.

Lizzie was forced to hold onto the couch when she found that simply leaning on Harry's shoulders was not enough to withstand the onslaught she felt inside her. Her eyes involuntarily closed, unable to keep her gaze on him for long, while her lips parted in search of air. She only found relief when Harry's tongue joined hers on her neck, leaving the same careless kisses she had given him at the beginning, but this time he decided to intensify the sensations with suctions. Lizzie had no doubt that the marks would remain there for at least a week due to the force with which he made them.

"God- You fuck me so good", she exclaimed, accompanying her groan with a whisper that made Harry open his eyes, becoming hypnotized by the sight of Lizzie's tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He bit his lower lip to contain his own impending moan.

"I'm so close- Oh fuck! Fuck-". Lizzie's own moans intertwined, becoming more intense, filling the room with their sound, resonating even throughout the house.

Harry sharply inhaled air between his teeth, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes tightly, feeling the electric current running through his body, although he had been avoiding that moment, wanting first to observe Lizzie's reaction, wanting to absorb it completely.

"Look at me", Lizzie's voice pulled him out of his reverie, as she took his chin and forced their gazes to meet once more. "Come on, be good and let me feel you pulsating as you fill me with cum".

Harry struggled to keep his eyes open as he did his best to maintain his gaze on hers, intensifying his rhythm as much as he could, seeing her mouth open as she brought her face closer to his, brushing their lips.

"Harry!- Fuck".

Then climax came for both simultaneously, with their foreheads united and sweat sliding down them. Harry felt Lizzie's cunt walls squeezing his cock, which throbbed inside her, while she experienced a sensation of fullness and warmth, an excitement that ran through her whole body and left her trembling as she moaned softly.

As the minutes passed, their breaths calmed down. Although the atmosphere was still imbued with heat and disorder, Harry finally felt liberated, despite still having his hands handcuffed.

The large clock struck three in the morning when they woke up without realizing how long they had remained in that position. Lizzie noticed the weight on her eyelids, indicating the need for rest, but she was forced to separate from Harry when she felt the burning sensation in her thighs, and the first thing she saw when she got up was the slight smile on Harry's face.

"I don't know if you've had experience as a criminal before, but you look very comfortable with those handcuffs".

The comment only made Harry's smile widen before he opened his eyes and replied: "I can't feel my wrists".

Immediately after, Harry watched as the dimple on Lizzie's face reappeared, but this time accompanied by a genuine laugh.

After he revealed the location of the key that would unlock the handcuffs and she finally managed to free him, she walked to one of the utility rooms in search of a blanket, still naked and feeling the cold air brushing against her skin.

Lizzie focused on her destination, avoiding looking elsewhere, entered the room, took the blanket, and walked out without looking back, ignoring the shadow she had perceived slipping down the hallway.

Once they settled on the sofa in the living room, she watched as Harry's hand reached for the silver tray that had remained on the central table, and he took one of the cookies she had prepared. At that moment, Lizzie suspected that perhaps that action had caused her perplexity upon learning of Richard's death.

Because it hadn't fit with her plans.

The chocolate cookies had awaited on her bedside table in the previous room, expecting her husband's first bite upon returning from the office after a long day of work.

That would have been the culmination, the beginning of something new.

So she understood that this episode marked the real beginning, perhaps the prelude to a dangerous game she was willing to embark on once again. From scratch.

[sushirrrry]

anything frattrry or hockey player please 😩

word count: 1,449 cw: flirty & steamy & frattry oh my! a hockey player!harry x you one-shot ******** this week, I'm doing a little writing spree in honor of hitting 1,000 followers! send me your requests for 1,000 word blurbs here & I will be writing them all week! here is a template, if you'd like to fill it out

thank you so much for 1,000 followers, it means the world to me!

so, let's start off our spree with a fan fave: hockey players

enjoy <3

********

1994

The ice rink was empty except for him – the one that you need, the one you’ve been assigned. The one you are continuously assigned.

Harry Styles, center for the Earl University Warriors, leaned against the boards like he owned the place; in some instance, he did.

This was his arena, this was his castle, and he wasn’t going to let anyone forget that. His jersey was peeled halfway off, clinging to his sweaty torso. One or two blonde highlights in his curls stood out to you, a cherry Tootsie Pop between his teeth, and that same cocky grin he always wore like a letterman jacket.

“You’re late, Press Pass,” he drawled, voice thick with amusement and just a hint of exhaustion from the scrimmage that you had just had the pleasure of watching. “Or were you just hoping to build some suspense in keeping me waiting?”

You didn’t look up from your notepad as you adjusted the press pass around your neck. “Or maybe I was hoping you’d be gone, and I’d have to forego the assignment.”

He chuckled—low and throaty; he chewed around the lollipop; you noticeably noticed the bright red of his lips from the lolly. “You always say the meanest things. It’s kinda hot.”

You rolled your eyes. “Can we just get this interview over with?”

This wasn’t your first rodeo with Harry Styles – this was always the most wanted interview, and the head of the paper always wanted his opinions on how the games were going. He was, of course, the captain of the team. Harry hopped over the rink boards like it was nothing and strutted toward you, skates clacking against the rubber mats. “That a Walkman in your coat? What are we listening to? Don’t say Pearl Jam again, I’ll cry.”

“Alanis Morissette,” you muttered.

He nodded slowly as he flips a hand through his hair to push it away from his forehead. “Figures. You’ve got ‘You Oughta Know’ energy.”

You stared at him with a blankness, fighting to not roll your eyes. “And you’ve got ‘banned from frat parties’ energy.”

That made him grin wider; you knew he liked when you talked back, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. He tilted his head toward the penalty box. “Let’s talk in there. Feels appropriate for me, don’t you think? Bad to the bone, and all that.”

You shouldn’t have followed him in. But you did. It was much easier to just follow along than anything else.

You took the bench while he sprawled out like he had no bones in his body—spreading his legs, arms stretched over the backrest, like some denim-and-sweat Adonis. His sweatpants were rolled down just enough to reveal his hip bones and the Calvin Klines that graced them, and he was still sucking on that damn Tootsie Pop.

“So,” you began, clicking your pen as you crossed your legs, “how’d you end up with the highest penalty minutes on the team?”

“Can’t help it if I play hard,” he said, winking. “Plus, refs love to call me for unsportsmanlike. Probably 'cause I’m too pretty.”

You snort at his answer, unbelievably writing it down. “Wouldn’t you call that a bit of delusion? Maybe a bit of clarity is needed here,” You pulled out your notes from the game, “Let’s see… tonight alone you racked up three penalties in under ten minutes.”

Harry stretched like a cat, lacing his fingers behind his head – the goddamn lollipop protruding from his cheek. “You say that like it’s a bad thing – we won, didn’t we?”

You ignored him. “First one—cross-checking.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, the guy had it coming.”

“Second—unsportsmanlike conduct.” You looked up to see his brows arched, waiting for you to say what you needed to say. “Did you really blow a kiss to the ref?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “It’s called being fuckin’ charming, Scoop. And seems like you like looking at my lips. Wanna’ kiss ‘em or quote ‘em?”

You arched a brow, writing down his meticulously thought-out answers and completely ignoring his remarks. If you bought into them, then he won. “And then the grand finale—roughing.”

“Mm.” He leaned in then, grinning as he showed you the way that his eyes shown in the arena lights. “Guilty as sin. Wanna see how rough I can really be?”

You shook your head, biting back a smile – he was way too goddamn charming. “You’re like the human version of a warning label.”

He shrugged, biting on the candy until it cracked. “Dangerous, but addictive? You keep on comin’ back, don’t ‘ya?”

It’s your turn to lean in now: “More like: ‘Do not engage unless supervised.’”

He leaned forward to meet your energy, elbows on his knees. This time, his voice was much lower – like he had wanted to keep it between the two of you.  “Come on. You’ve thought about it.”

“About what?”

“Me. This. You and me in here.” He gestured around the penalty box like it was some sacred chapel that they had been meeting in. “Don’t pretend you don’t think about me when you’re rewinding your cassette tapes.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes this time. “You’re so full of yourself, Styles.”

“Baby, I’m full of you. In my head, anyway.”

You stood to leave, almost repulsed by his charisma. “Alright, interview’s over.”

But he reached out, tugging gently on the sleeve of your flannel before you’re able to turn around fully. “C’mon, Scoop. Don’t be mad. You’ve been giving me the look since week one. And I’ve been real patient.”

You turned slowly, looking down at him and where his fingers had inched their way around your wrist. “What look?”

“That ‘I’d rather die than admit I want you’ look,” He bit his lip, “You give it pretty often, and I have to admit it’s one of your cuter looks.”

You should’ve left. Should’ve told him off and walked out like the independent, Nirvana-loving, emotionally detached girl you prided yourself on being.

Instead, you dropped your notebook, grabbed him by the collar of his jersey, and kissed him so hard he gasped. There was something about always doing the unexpected that you prided yourself on, and this move was no different. It was a move that had shocked even you, but you couldn’t help but feel the satisfaction in just shutting up his goddamn, filthy, cocky mouth.

It was hot. Messy. Pure attitude.

He tasted like cherry and sweat and the kind of trouble your RA warned you about in all of those freshman classes.

But it was when he really kissed you back, it was with greedy, open-mouthed intensity. His hands found your waist, your thighs, and then he was pulling you into his lap like he’d been waiting a lifetime for it. You couldn’t have expected him to pull you back – to actually grab ahold of you, because now you couldn’t get back out of it.

When you started to push away, he pulled back; the game of it was his favorite, you could tell.

“God, you’re so—” he started, but you cut him off by tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Shut up, Styles.”

He grinned beneath you, breathless. “Yes, ma’am.”

His hands pushed under your shirt, all calluses and warmth, and you moaned against his mouth as his thumb skimmed the underside of your bra. You breathed out heavily in annoyance at yourself for giving him the satisfaction he had been looking for.

“Still think I’m a poser, newspaper babe?” he whispered, biting at your lip as you started to pull away then.

You laughed against his jaw. “Totally.”

He pulled back, eyes blazing. “Then let me prove you wrong, babe. Right here in the –“

You straddled him harder. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence unless you mean it.”

“I always mean it.” Harry pulled your waist, letting you rub against his crotch as you try to push yourself away. In another attempt, he lets you go as he can feel you really mean it; his face distorting in confusion as you started to recompose yourself. You grab your notepad and pen that had fallen.

Harry blinked up at you, lips red, pupils blown, breath uneven, hair even a bit unkept. “Wait—what?”

You smirked. “Thanks for the quotes, Styles. You’re always appreciated.”

“Scoop—come on! What was that?”

You paused at the edge of the box, fingers on the door. “A warning,” You looked him up and down, “No more penalties – stop embarrassing us with your cocky ass. Someone had to shut you up, didn't they?”

And then you walked out—your Walkman humming “You Learn” as you disappeared down the corridor, leaving the star player stunned, aching, and utterly wrecked in the penalty box.

[sophieturnersdoppelganger]

Book Questions!

Thank you, @snow-blower, for the tag!

❥ A romance trope that will always have you giggling and kicking your feet?

I LOVE fake-dating, omg. Sooooooo cute every time! Also grumpy x sunshine.

❥ A book you’d fight someone over (good or bad)?

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. It requires a suspension of disbelief that is not suitable for the genre. There are numerous books that do a far better job of covering the Holocaust.

❥ A book you’d marry, one you’d kiss, and one you’d throw into the sea?

Marrying Pride and Prejudice, kissing Final Girls, by Riley Sager, and throwing Equus out to sea. (I know it’s a play, but it’s used all the time in AP Lit, so.)

❥ What's a book that absolutely ruined you in the best way?

The Fault in Our Stars. I had read sad books before, but that…wow.

❥ A book you judged by the cover... and were either very right or tragically wrong?

Hiddensee, by Gregory Maguire. I had read his work before, but the cover of this is more subdued and stark than his others, and I think that difference is reflected in the writing. (All of his work is excellent!)

❥ It's life or death, choose one: paperback, epub, or audio book.

Paperback. I’ll read on my laptop or phone, but I really have better comprehension with a physical book.

❥ If you could re-write any book you've read, which would it be and why?

Anna Karenina. It does NOT need to be that long, ffs. And I generally like that style of writing! But it should be multiple books.

❥ What’s your “this could have been solved with therapy” book?

Harry Potter. Send Snape to fucking therapy, good god. And Sirius, and Albus, and Harry himself.

❥ Be Honest. How many books have you actually read this year?

Two, but one of them was over 500 pages (and I’ve been writing so much, oml).

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

Clandestine meetings (part 3)

Part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

Sherlock x (married) oc!

Watson got off the cab to go directly to The Daily Telegraph. He stood outside scrutinising the office carefully. 

Even from the outside one could hear the hustle and bustle of journalists. The phone ringing, and the constant chattering of people. Watson sighed before entering. The office was about to close, so some employees were seen heading out of it, stealing questioning glances at him. 

Shaking his head, Watson entered. The receptionist was gathering all his papers in order to take his leave for the day. Watson looked at his desk name plate, “Harry Johnson” was the name of the receptionist. 

Watson walked over to him. “Mr Johnson”. 

“Young man, this office is about to close for the day. Could you not have chosen a better time?” retorted the man in his cockney accent. 

Mr Johnson was a middle-aged man with salt pepper hair and moustache with a slight temper issue. 

“My sincere apologies. I just…” Watson trailed off as he waited for Mr Johnson to stop what he was doing and at least bother to look at him. 

Mr Johnson, in his same annoyed voice spat, “Please carry on, sir. I am not going to stand here all night.” Mr Johnson still did not look up from his papers for once.

Watson rubbed the back of his head as he debated on whether to speak about the subject with the receptionist out in the open or not. He narrowed his eyes and decided it was not the best idea. 

So instead he cleared his throat and uttered, “I would like to meet the manager of the Westminster region.”

This time Mr Johnson looked up at him, stopping his work in the middle, “What for?” 

“It is about Mr Dey.” replied Watson hesitantly.

Johnson eyed Watson suspiciously, taking a bit of time before replying, then with a heavy sigh he looked down and continued his work while answering, “Mr Reynolds’ chamber is down the hallway, towards the right. He is also about to leave, so make it quick, sir.”

After getting no response to his thank you, Watson just gave him a nod. Shaking his head, he walked in the direction the receptionist had told him to. He saw the board ‘Travis Reynolds’ outside an office chamber. He knocked at the door, taking a deep breath.

“Come in!” a deep voice called out from inside.

Watson creaked open the door and walked in. Mr Reynolds was a healthy posh gentleman with a good sense of style. He wore a black suite which is easily guessed to be of rather an expensive one. He was also in a hurry to leave, he was around his fifties.

His hair was mostly white, and his blue eyes were covered with round glasses. He was leaning on his desk, writing a telegram in hurry. Frustration was evident on his face.

Watson decided to skip all the formalities, or else it would be too late. He closed the door behind him and straight up began, “I am here to ask you about Mr Debashish Dey.”

That made Reynolds stop with his writing abruptly, putting his pen down he stood straight looking into Watson's eye. “Why? Who are you?”

“Dr John Watson.” he replied with a forced smile under his moustache. 

“Ah, Dr Watson. I have read a couple of your stories in The Strand! Is Holmes investigating this case? I assure you, that would hardly be necessary.” Reynolds pointed at a chair across from his office desk, quietly asking Watson to sit. 

Watson walked to the chair and sat down without hesitation. 

“It was a clear case of corruption. That greedy, savage of an Indian could not be satisfied with his official salary. He got what he deserved: a suspension.”

Watson squirmed a bit in his chair at the manager’s choice of words. “I promise you that my detective and I will never bother you after this. I only want to hear the account of incidents in full.”

Mr Reynolds stared at him with a little amusement. Then sighing he started.

“You know how the condition in his home country is. When he came here with a job application, we sympathised with him and decided to hire him, even though the position he worked for until recently was too high for someone like that bloody Dey. We needed someone to replace our previous employee. Who knew the next one would be so incompetent and corrupt! 

“I was the most sceptical of him when the board hired him. The place he comes from is filled with greedy scoundrels and I never thought hiring him was a good decision. 

“Then days passed by, followed by weeks. Dey would come to the office in the morning at 9, enter his chamber, work for hours at a stretch, would barely stop to eat, and he would leave the place by six in the evening. He would talk to no one. He would be so engrossed in his work that most people used to see him as a machine. Thus, later on I concluded that there was nothing to be doubtful about, when it came to this man. 

“Who knew that this false conclusion would cost me so much! My foolishness cost me £1,279 to be exact, Dr Watson! Do you realise the kind of loss we are going through at present?”

“Couldn’t that have been a calculation mistake, Mr Reynolds?” Watson proposed a different way to see this mishap.

Mr Reynolds laughed sarcastically at Watson's suggestion.

“By jove, you are far too generous to him. Much more than he deserves. Why did he not inform me sooner if it were an honest mistake?”

Watson could not think of an appropriate reply. He stayed quiet for sometime, and Mr Reynolds took this opportunity to write down his remaining telegram. 

“Did he do something out of the ordinary the day he was supposed to sign the contract?” Watson asked finally. 

Mr Reynolds put the lid of his fountain pen with golden nib and put it in his pocket as he thought for a bit. Then he said, 

“Hmm. Nothing. Oh, yes! I walked into his room to ask something of him. It was his lunch break, and he spilled something on his clothes while eating, probably because he was finishing off with his paperwork in a hurry. I laughed at his stupidity and frankly unhygienic behaviour. He glared at me, like he was going to kill me. 

“I had no time to waste that day, so I assigned him an important task and walked out of the room. That’s it! I am certain that this is what caused him to make a grave mistake such as this. What a traitor!” Reynolds held his face in his hands. “I wish he were imprisoned at this instant. Suspension isn’t nearly a good punishment for him!”

Watson got up from his chair after his reply, unable to think of anything else to ask. “Thank you so much for your cooperation, Mr Reynolds. I believe I should go.”

Reynolds nodded as Watson walked out of the office.

*

Watson stopped the cab driver right in front of 221, Baker Street, only to see Holmes approaching the place from the opposite side, on foot. 

Watson hurriedly paid the driver, got out of the carriage, and walked straight towards Holmes with the excitement of all the information he had gathered. 

“I thought you’d be late from the lady’s place, Holmes,” said Watson as they both walked in, climbed up the seventeen steps leading to 221 B and went inside their flat.

Holmes was silent during the journey. He didn't bother to answer Watson's question like the numerous times he would not answer him. 

However this time, it was the case, the information, the situation of Devi with her husband, that was all that went on in his mind. 

The case was indeed a matter of Dey’s reputation, but Mrs Dey? 

A lot of questions circled round Holmes' head. Also the facts he gathered about the case were enough for him to move forward. But he was dealing with something more delicate than that, unwillingly, yet he was caught up in it. 

What about the woman? Will she keep being put down? Was there anything they could do for her? 

Also, this second thought scared Holmes a bit, but Mrs Dey’s gaze at him was … indescribable to him. 

Women, he didn't know much of them but her gaze was telling him a different story. He feared that the map of Devi's fascination was taking a different turn. 

They sat across each other in their sitting room in silence, staring at the dim fireplace until 

Holmes finally recalled Watson's question. 

“I did not need to stay any longer. Mrs Dey is correct: her husband is innocent.” 

His answer baffled Watson, so he replied, 

“Are you serious? I was about to say exactly the opposite of that.”

Holmes took his pipe and lit it, asking,

“Do you doubt the lady, dear fellow? Why so?”

Watson sank in his chair as he replied, 

“I must say, I did not doubt her in the slightest when she first made an entrance to our place. Today, however, after having a word with Mr Dey’s manager, I might not be so certain about this case.”

“What did he say?” enquired Holmes, releasing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. 

Watson narrated the entire conversation to his companion, all the facts, as they were. He waited patiently for his friend's reply. 

Holmes sat back in his chair with his hands steepled beneath his chin, staring at the ceiling, seemingly into nothingness. “It seems as though this man is convinced because of his pre-formed notions about Dey. One should indeed never theorise before one has data.”

“What makes you say Dey is innocent, Holmes?” enquired Watson.

“It was perfectly evident from how he phrased things while narrating his version of the incident, and from his body posture throughout the afternoon, that he was not lying. Not at all.” Holmes sat straight and looked at Watson again. “A person is always quite precise with the facts without skipping a beat when he knows that he has not done anything wrong. I could see it.”

Watson pursed his lips and nodded, as he was still not convinced. “If you say so.” 

He got up from his arm chair, sighing. 

Holmes could not be wrong, he thought. Yet he wasn't willing to admit he was not right either. 

As he ran his hand over his coat to straighten it and made his way to the door of the flat, he felt  his wrist caught in Holmes’ hand. 

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked in an indifferent way.

“Just to the garden!” Watson said, freeing his wrist. As he took one more step towards the door, they heard a knock. 

Holmes stared at the door as Watson walked over to open it. 

“Mr Holmes?” as the door creeked open it revealed Mrs Dey again, however this time a little less stressed, her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. 

Watson smiled and let her in. 

Without wasting a second, she ran to Holmes. 

Holmes stood up and greeted her with a wide smile. 

Watson stood there seeing them talking to each other. 

Holmes asked her about her husband.  She started to narrate  everything that was going on with a childlike way of storytelling. 

Watson smirked to himself, closing the door behind him, as he walked out of the flat to take a stroll into the garden.

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐏𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆.

I chose this prompt from the @hunflowers challenge, a halloween blurb full of scary fluff with pairing of Harry x fem!reader. Tried my best hope ya'll like it!!

An insufferable bone chilling yowl of wind continuously knocked at the tightly bolted window of the forsaken apartment a deep sigh of emptiness anguished from a pair of lungs equally demonizing the aura of winter as y/n hissed at the pricking of bloody iceness of water that once was bubbly warm. The cosiness swallowing her body whole like a white whale into depths of oceans; screeched a scream the kettle she has put a on the stove a while ago. One after another she placed dripping cutlery utensils into basket beside the sink when she was satisfied the greasy stains were gone for real. She hurled a glance to the vacant sitting room of the apartment out of instinct, her guts startling for a moment as the coloured screen of telly roared into disturbance of grey un-uniform pixels.

Wiping the soapy palms with a rag she turns causing the humidity to woosh by her sides and the pair of eyes to hide behind the brick wall. An afflicted gasp leaves her lips and she brings her pointy finger to stick it into her mouth to slash the burn she just got on her tips due to her clumsiness and closeness to kettle. The Telly's back to broadcasting Hocus Pocus, pouring a cuppa she sweeps herself to Aegon velvet couch her back towards the window that displays nothing but a boring sight of another building and the outdoor stair spiral. Something clanged. As If there's a pile of weight hitting and ringing between the gaps of steel rods of stairs. The suspicious noise flew above her head due to the buzzing of famous Hallowen movie.

Eyelids fluttering from the taste of tea then they snap wide to her barren surroundings when a "THUD!" echoes in her living space turning her into a porcelain statue that could be shattered with a single blow. She gulps squeezing her eyes and when she slowly blinks back white spots from the fairy lights hanging at the borderline of walls lingered her vision. Another ruttling sound of window's hooks being forcefully unlocked and she quickly looks back in fear; "it's just in ye'r head." She coaxes herself as she could see no-one to illicit these noises.

But, Oh! She's so wrong.

She drags her feet from where she came from minutes ago, squinting her eyes in dull kitchen and a penumbra of tall darkness peaks from the front window over the sink. It caused her to crimson crescents into her clammy palms as the full moon creeped it's mock to her.

"AAA!" Her shrieks strangling into her throat from the utter fright and drain of senses as the unhinged window to the left of kitchen and behind her where she couldn't see slided with a cracking hum. Cold sweat breaking at her spine, knuckles catching the edges of marble and her tongue rested limb in her mouth.

The speckles of her irises reflected rims of moon when a bloody brumal hand creeped atop her mouth clamping it shut. Her heart dooming into the grave of her stomach as she felt spikey thing prodding the dimple of her back. Waterworks preparing at the bayline of her eyes and she ran her mind million miles to think of an escape only to end in the same trap.

"Gimme a kiss baby else you'll have to bear the consequences." The scratch of hoarseness halting to mellowness that calmed her down a little but a lava of annoyance boiled in her veins making her spin in the grasp, "Harry!" She whacks his chest glaring him with tensed knit brows and parted mouth.

He seems unfazed his homely dimples coveting into his milky cheeks adorably as he leaned to look in her beautiful glistening eyes properly stealing a sloppy kiss.

"Puppy." He whines tumbling onto his feet when she bit his bottom lip agonisingly in between the kiss. Deserves right.

"You scared me!" She shows him by placing his hand atop her heart which's running wild at Harry's antics and he pouts innocently but spat misheviously, "those 'ere me' intentions." He balances the pumpkin in his forearm gesturing her to come close to him as she stands with folded arms and pouty face.

"Could 'ave used the door." She murmurs timidly padding towards him.

"Would've missed the fun, sweet cherry." He chuckles resting his chin atop her head running circles at her shoulders and when she gasps a "meanie!" He gives her the same doe pupils and wide parted lips mimicking her, "sometimes gotta be babe."

"You should be glad, I love you jerkface." At this he tugs her close smauching a loud wet kiss to her balmed lips, he gives her a soft smile "let's carve some eh?" He shows her the pumpkin and she nods beamingly.

She let the stove on after handing a cuppa to harry (along a kiss on forehead) so that their would be some warmth while they sit on the kitchen tiles figuring out how to carve the pumpkin.

His daddy long legs sprawled relaxingly infront of him, his tongue poking out from the concentration and she giggles when a hickory curl of his's kept on falling at the arc of his brow disturbing him.

"Glaring him wouldn't help baby." She quips brushing the curl back tucking it into his bun and he grins puckering his lips for her sweetness he always craves. Shaking her head at his love-sickness she cups his jaw giving him an eskimo kiss accompanied by a hot, stroking passionate kiss on mouth.

She cringes squeaking in his mouth when he leaves a long stripe of gooe over her cheek and when she retorts away he catches her wrist with his sticky hands deepening the kiss making her moan into his sacchariness.

"You're a one cheeky mother-fudger." She nibbles on the soft flesh of his earlobe knees nudging his's and she feels fuzzy trying to get more closer to him. "Enough of ye'r horniness can't ye' see 'm tryin' to work?" She groans and harry finds it so endearing. A disgusting squirting noise billows when she shoves her hand into open head pumpkin taking full of gooey stickness and throwing it at Harry.

He looks down to his chest with comic stern eyes pointing at it and she just shrugged giving him challenging expression. This's how they ends up having a pumpkin seed fight, it sticked to their hair, clothes and skin.

She squeals in her laughter scooching back on her ass when he crawls on his fours towards her, "don't you dare come near me!!" She says in between her breaths but her threat in vain as she toppled onto floor with Harry on her top.

"Wha' ye'r gonna do bout it, huh?" He slams both his palms at the either side of her temple and she squints open her one eye, "no. no. no." she mutters only grunting in defeat at the end when Harry nuzzles his cheeks to her's, practically rubbing all of himself against her.

"Yuck. You gutter monster!" Her voice muffled into the crook of his neck when he showered her in disgustingly cute little kisses, starting from the apples of her cheeks, her chin multiple times and her eyelids leaving no spot un-moisturised. He cackles loudly instead tilting her jaw to meet his lips with the help of his both thumbs.

She moans in the kiss when he grinds his hips against her pelvis and when she bucks herself for more friction he moves away taking the previous knife into his hands, leaning against the cabinet and taking the pumpkin back in his lap.

"Not fair." She grumps sitting crossed legs infront of him. A fluttering grin breaking through her act when he carved a little smile and two little stitch button eyes of the pumpkin.

"Wha' d'ya say looks scary?" He asks with a grin and a thumbs up knowing too well about his own cheeky antics, "looks like his mummy's bout to tuck him to sleep in a baby blanket."

"Well, good for him." She rolls her eyes standing up as he helps her so leading both of them to sitting room, "can't believe 'm dating a five years old." At that moment Winifred Sanderson spoke from the telly.

"I put a spell on you and now you're mine." Harry snaps his fingers pointing at the telly lifting his puppy up into a squishing hug ready to have hot bath after.

"Wini's absolutely right, puppy. I put a spell on you and now you're all mine...." A long pause and he smirks down at her, "...to eat."

.

[alreadyjackbestfriend]

darkest secrets (part 2 of FRIENDSHIP TEST)

Pairing: jack harlow x famous!reader

Genre: fluff

A/N: i think you can read this part alone, but for more context it is better to read the first part. Also, originally this was going to be just one part, but I already wrote a third one today 💀, I really liked this concept of the interviews, so i'll post it soon!

PART 1 HERE

enjoy! hope you like it

Ever since the Friendship Test video, the world has gone crazy when it comes to your friendship with Jack. And not only the fans, obviously also the media: all the magazines, all the youtube channels, all the late night shows, etc, each and every one of them wanted a piece of you and Jack.

After thousands of calls, emails, conversations between your manager and Jack's, finally his schedule coincided with yours, and you agreed to give the world more of the two of you.

This sudden interest in your relationship was a great opportunity for both of you careers, but none of that mattered to you seconds from seeing Jack again.

your makeup artist was doing the finishing touches when you heard a knock on your dressing room door.

"come in!" you yelled, and saw the figure of jack appear behind the door. your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but smile, as jack felt exactly the same, the butterflies in his stomach almost unbearable as you got up from the chair and hugged him with all your strength.

“I missed you” he whispered in your hair.

“missed you too” you said separating yourself from his body and looking at his eyes, you couldn't help but squeeze his face and he smiled harder.

***

“okay guys, the game it’s just questions and answers, there are cards face down on the table that have the questions, if the conversation flows from one of them, just continue, until there is nothing more to say, you pick another” the producer said and you both nodded.

first you recorded your greetings and then continued with the game.

“who goes first?” you asked

“ladies first”, jack answered and you rolled your eyes, but you picked a card.

“what is your worst fear?” you read, “uhh, we started off hard” jack smiled and thought for a few seconds before answering

“losing the people that I love” he said, and you pouted. smiling, he put his thumb to your lips, undoing the pout, "don't pout, luckily it hasn't happened to me yet" you smiled, but inside you felt your pulse quicken from the brief contact, too intimate for the cameras, but too natural between you. He picked his first card.

“how do you see yourself in ten years?” he asked and you thought for a few seconds.

“I hope starting my own family… with someone who loves me and that i can trust” you said.

“so cute” he commented, and you felt the heat permeate your cheeks.

"Which animal do you identify with?" you read, "ohh, let me guess please" you said, and jack nodded, the smile never leaving his face, "with a lion"

"I quite like that answer" he said, leaving you in suspense

"But is that what you were thinking?"

"yes", he confessed, "they are the king of the jungle... besides, I think I look a bit like them" he said, touching his beard and then his hair, you laughed loudly

"you're so stupid"

“but you love me”

“yes” you quickly admitted, making him smile

“love you too”

“I know”

“cocky” he joked, and you shrugged your shoulders, smiling. He picked another card.

“Who is your celebrity crush?”

“Ummm”, you thought, “well, I have two actually”, jack raised his eyebrows in expectation, "first one is leo dicaprio, but but I'm on the verge of failure, I only have a year to conquer him” you said, making the behind-the-scenes crew laugh. you smiled hoping not to get in trouble for that comment, “and the second one is harry styles, but this time i’m too young for him, since he likes older women” you said pouting and jack laughed

“obviously one of your crushes was going to be harry styles”

“are you saying I’m too predictable?” You said pretending you were offended

“nah, I’m just saying that he seems the type of guy you would like”

“Reallyyy?”

“Yes”

“And how do you think is the type of guy I like?”

“physically? tall, with curls, light eyes. personality, well, i don't know what harry is like, so I don't know if I'm going to describe him or not, but i know you like to laugh a lot so he must be funny, and i know you like to have deep conversations, so he must be interested in different types of art and things like that”

“Wow, i didn't know you knew me so well” he winked at you and you laughed, “ok, who is your celebrity crush?” you asked, emphasizing the word "your"

“You”, he said without hesitation, you rolled your eyes

“Be for real jack”, you said and he laughed almost nervously

“Im being for real!”

“I know who your celebrity crush is” you said crossing your arms over your chest and jack had to use all his willpower not to look away at your cleavage

“oh, yeah?”

“yeah”

“And who is it?”

“Alexa Demie”

He laughed, “you caught me”, he said, and even if you didn't want it your stomach fell in disappointment, you would have liked him to keep insisting that you were his celebrity crush, but you knew you weren't.

“You know… if you had admitted that, I would have give you a free pass to be with her” you said without thinking

“Oh, you would give me a free pass?” He said, emphasizing the “you”, and you blushed

“Yes, because I own you”, you said quickly, trying to make your slip pass as a joke, not letting him see your nervousness. He laughed loudly.

“although you’re not wrong”, he said this time and you blushed harder, but rolled your eyes in an attempt to seem calm.

“It drives me crazy when you roll your eyes”, he said almost in a whisper, like only for you to hear, but he knew he was using a microphone. You gulped hard.

“Would you give me a free pass to be with harry styles?” You said, trying to ignore his comment, getting back on topic

“Oh, so you’re implying that I own you?”

“Maybe”, you said elevating one of your shoulders and one of your eyebrows, he smiled widely.

“I would not”, he answered, and your smile dropped.

“What!”

“I don’t like to share”

“I gave you a free pass! I take it back”

“Fine by me, I only want you”

“Jackkkk”, you whined, “stop it!” he just smiled at you, he knew he was making you nervous and he loved it, for a second you just looked at each other, and then you spoke, “you want to pick a card? Since I made the last question” you said, but he ignored your instruction, asking you directly

“Who was your first celebrity crush?” He asked, really interested to know the answer.

“Mmmm, my first celebrity crush was Daniel Radcliffe, you know who he is?”

“I don’t think so”

“The actor that played harry potter, I remember seeing him in the first movie when I was five or maybe six, and found him cute, but when I saw the third one, oh my god”, you widened your eyes and jack raised a brow, “I fell in love”

Jack was trying so hard not to show his jealousy, he couldn’t believe he felt this way about your childhood celebrity crush.

“then I saw the fourth one and I fell harder”, you said

“did you see any of the movies in the theater?”

“Yes, I did, the fifth, and wanted to see part two of the seventh, but I was too sad to do it, I didn’t wanted it to end, i even saw it three years later because I refused to believe it ended”

“I didn’t know you were such a big fan of harry potter”

“Oh, there’s a lot you don’t know about me”, you joked

“That’s not fair”

“Why?”

“You know everything about me”

“No, I don’t”

“Yes, you do”

“I don’t know your darkest secrets, just as you don't know mine” you said and jack thought for a second

“Well, I can tell you one, but since it’s a secret…” he said, removing the microphone from his shirt and indicating you to come closer, you did and he brought his lips close to your ear, “I’m in love with you” he said, and your breath hitched. Jack didn’t know where the urge to confess his feelings had come from, perhaps from the silly jealousy of talking about your celebrity crushes.

“Jack”, you said serious

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, but I'll still tell you one of my darkest secrets” you replied

“Ok”

You also took off your microphone and put your lips close to his ear, “I’m in love with you too” you confessed to him, hoping with all your heart that his had not been a joke, because otherwise the damage would be tremendous.

***

After the game was over and the goodbyes were recorded, you ran to your dressing room as if death itself were chasing you. jack asked his and your team to give you a few minutes alone before he came after you.

"why are you running away from me?" he said opening the door you had left unlocked, finding you in your chair looking at yourself in the mirror, “stop playing”, jack spoke again, approaching you

“I’ll stop playing if you stop playing” you answered, without taking your eyes off the mirror, and you looked at it through the reflection. he quickly turned your chair so you could look him in the eye, and leaned towards you, with each of his hands resting on the armrests, encircling you between his arms

“Ok, I’m being totally serious right now”, he said, feeling the nerves run through his entire body, “what I said was completely true”

“what I said too” You said completely serious, and Jack didn't wait a second before bringing your lips together in a hungry kiss.

Fortunately, Jack already had locked the door.

***

the video came out only a week later, and the comments were crazy again:

user 1: I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THEIR DARKEST SECRETS WERE

user 2: WHAT WERE THE DARKEST SECRETS? I CAN'T DIE WITHOUT KNOWING

user 3: he described himself as the boy she would like 💀 love him

user 4: IT'S SO EVIDENT THAT THEY LIKE EACH OTHER, JUST DATE ALREADY, OR AT LEAST FUCK

user 5: THE SEXUAL TENSION

Liked by yourinstagram, urbanwyatt, lilnasx, shawnmendes and 5.728.748 others

jackharlow we read your comments, and here is the answer… the darkest secrets were: we’re in love with each other 😚🥵🤤

jackfan1 I FUCKING KNEW IT

user1 it was so obvious bro 💀

jackfan2 THE EMOJIS AJLDK stoppp

urbanwyatt 🖤

yourinstagram 🥺 i’m so fucking in love with you

->yourfan Y/N 😭

->user2 I've never seen her in love before, it's surreal

jackfan3 WHAT IF THIS WAS MY LAST STRAW

jackfan4 this is my 13th reason

->jackfan5 girllll 💀

emmachamberlain BEST COUPLE EVER

yourfan2 mom and dad

troyesivan the IT couple

user3 hearts are breaking rn

yourfan3: WHAT ABOUT HARRY yourinstagram?

->yourfan6 LMAO

->yourinstagram my heart is big enough ❤️

->jackharlow yourinstagram stop playing

->yourfan7 she's so funny 😭

->youandjackfan LMAO LSADKJASDJ

[jamies001fan]

You Weren't There

pairing: Jamie x fem!reader summary: Jamie messed up, big time. Once he realizes what he's done, can he make it up to you? requested: yes! warnings: tears (a lot of them), mentions of anxiety but not any attacks, Jamie being a sweetheart & knowing he needs to make it better, a brief make out + 1 hickey, mention of Harry Styles bc he always cheers me up but y'all can picture whatever song you want wc: 8,474

“Love, I promise, once filming gets done, I’ll be at the showing! You know I’d never miss your beautiful work, angel.” He sounded serious because, well, he was. You had been over the moon with excitement for the past 3 months ever since you found out that you’d won a local art contest. The winners had their works shown in the largest gallery in the area, and it was a true dream for you to have others see the hard work you put into your paintings. Sure, the gallery wasn’t as large as MoMA or the MET, but thousands of people went daily to view the incredible art that was already there. Painting was a passion you had, and you didn’t bother trying to hide it. Everyone you knew either found out from you, from Jamie, or from the numerous photos you always shared. And thanks to the constant support and encouragement, you always felt confident with what you created.

“Filming gets over at 8pm, and it’s a 45 minute drive here, please be careful, Jamie!” You speak fast into the direction of your phone that’s currently on speaker as you finish putting your shoes on. Your eyes glance to your watch and see the bold numbers say ‘6:30pm’, and your heart skips a beat. “The showing starts in 30 minutes, baby. Even if you aren’t gonna be there until around 9, I know people are going to want to see you as well!” The words are spoken with an obvious tone of anxiousness as you picked up your purse and headed towards the door, your uber just pulling up as you walked outside.

“Like I said, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But the real art is you, and you need to get going! I’ll text you when I’m on my way, baby. I love you!” The words made you feel less anxious as you said your goodbyes to each other and got in the uber. Your heart was beating fast from both nervousness and excitement the closer you got to the gallery. You were still trying to process how you managed to win, despite so many other talented individuals being in the contest with you. Countless nights where Jamie had to nearly carry you away from your computer because you were refreshing your emails every 5 minutes to see if you’d been chosen as the winner. Suspense was never your friend, but the 2 weeks where you didn’t hear anything back from anyone? It was surprising that you hadn’t lost your mind at least once. 

The uber finally reached the gallery and you took several deep breaths after getting out of the car. Your thoughts were scattered, ‘what if no one actually likes my work?’, ‘no one's gonna know who I am.’, ‘is this really happening?’. But the one that was in the front of your mind, ‘I can’t wait for Jamie to see this, he’s been so excited for me.’. Before you started walking, you glanced at your watch and saw the numbers read ‘6:28pm’. It took a moment to hype yourself up before you made your way up the small staircase and pulled the door open, familiar faces already coming into view. Within seconds of walking inside, your close friends made their way towards you, congratulating you on your work. It was obvious that you were nervous, if Jamie were with you, you would be attached to him at the hip. He knew that you sometimes got nervous with crowds, and he didn’t mind speaking for you if he knew you weren’t up to it. 

You gradually made your way over to where your painting was, the golden frame around it making your heart skip a beat. A smile spread across your face as you noticed more people looking at it, a small crowd forming in front of you. Your eyes kept glancing at your phone, keeping an eye out for a text from Jamie. Every now and then you’d have people ask you questions about your work, which you gladly answered with more passion each time. Hearing others tell you how they interpret your work was also interesting, as there was obviously no right or wrong answer. The way that art makes everyone feel a different way, whether it be paintings, music, photography, or writing, it all makes everyone feel something, and you love it. 

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you checked your watch and the numbers read ‘9:30pm’. In a moment of panic, you check your phone thinking you missed a text from Jamie, and you felt your heart drop when there was nothing there. Just as you were about to text him to see if he was okay, one of your friends walked over and pulled you into a short hug, making your sudden anxiety go down a little. Another 30 minutes had passed without a word from him, and you felt like you could cry. The showing was over, and he hadn’t showed up, or even facetimed. Luckily, one of your friends drove you home, but the silence was deafening as you finally pulled into your driveway. Exchanging goodbyes and goodnights, you made your way inside, locking the door and leaning on it as you felt tears roll down your cheeks. 

Noise from inside your bedroom only made the small anger inside you grow as you slowly moved to the door. It was ajar, and you could see Jamie on the bed watching tv, not a care in the world as to where you were. You push the door open and his eyes meet yours for not even a second, making you step in front of the tv. He had the audacity to ask you to move, and you only scoffed, turning the tv off. The silence filled the room for what seemed like hours, and the single illuminated lamp that was next to him made his features more prominent, as much as you hated to admit in the moment. As much as you didn’t want him to say anything to you that might piss you off, you knew it was going to happen, and you wanted to see how deep of a hole he would dig himself.

“Love, why did you do that? The show was almost finished.” He sounded annoyed. As if you had interrupted something important to him. You could tell he didn’t know about the showing, and that he forgot to text you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. “Don’t just stand there, either move or turn the tv back on. Can’t just turn it off when you want attention, I gave you attention earlier.” His hand moved to the remote, but yours blocked the sensor so it wouldn’t work, resulting in an eye roll from him. “What’s the matter, broke a nail?” The question was complete sarcasm, and you hated it.

“What’s the matter?” You asked in a low voice, an angry voice. “Maybe the fact that I was at my art showing for 4 hours without you texting or calling once. Or the fact that you weren’t there to drive me home? I knew you had filming to do, but you promised you’d show up, and you didn’t. My friends were asking where you were, and I said you were busy, preoccupied. I had strangers keep me company because you weren’t there. So I'm mad, Jamie. Actually, that’s an understatement. I’m livid right now. I wanted my other half, my better half, my partner of 3 years to be by my side, and he wasn’t. Don’t you dare act like I’m the bad guy for turning off your show, when you didn’t show up for me like you promised. Or do you not remember our conversation from earlier? Because I do, and that only makes it hurt more.” Tears were streaming down your face as you spoke, and his eyes went more wide than you’d ever seen.

“Shit. Baby, I’m so, so, so sorry.” He jumped off the bed and ran to hug you, slightly picking you up off the floor as he held you close to him. “After filming the guys wanted to get drinks and-”

“Drinks?” You cut him off as you pushed him away from you, fire in your eyes. “You got drinks with the guys instead of being there for your own partner? How long were you out for?” Your brief interrogation caught him off guard, but by the look in his eyes, you didn’t want to know the answer. His mouth opened to speak but you put your hand up, immediately silencing him. “You went out and had a few too many drinks as I was trying to not get overwhelmed with the amount of people around me. You know how I am with crowds, Jamie, and you just didn’t bother showing up? Your buddies were more important than me? I can’t fucking believe this.” Your throat had that pain in it, the feeling when you’re about to start sobbing but feel the need to hold back until you’re alone.

“I promise I had every intention of going to your showing, my love. Time just sort of.. got away from me.” His hand cautiously reached up the side of your face, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. More than anything, you wanted to lean into his simple touch, to pull him into you and feel him mold against you like the two pieces of a puzzle you both were. But your anger was too strong, not even the warmth of his hand on your cheek was enough to settle the fire inside of you. You could tell he thought he was in the clear from how he was leaning closer to kiss you, and you let him believe he was allowed for a second before you placed a firm hand on his chest, effectively keeping him at arm's length.

“Time got away from you, huh?” You asked calmly, rubbing your thumb against the soft material of his shirt, before pressing your pointer finger to his chest. He nods his head with a smile so small you’d have to squint to see it. “Lost track of it for so long that you didn’t think to check the watch you still have on? Or any of the numerous clocks on the wall of the bar, or even have a friend tell you? I doubt that the guys were holding you hostage, keeping you away from me. In fact, you told me that they were happy for me and that they wanted photos from the showing. You think saying sorry is gonna fix this? That it’ll be forgiven after you kiss me longer than 5 seconds? No, Jamie, you messed up. I don’t know how you can fix this, but it’s your own mistake, you find a way.” He let out a groan as you had fully backed him into a wall, tears again streaming down your face.

This was the first time you had ever seen Jamie really speechless. Sure, there were a few times you kissed him that left him mesmerized, but you could tell he was genuinely upset at how badly he messed up. He let you walk away from him and into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Nearly the second the lock clicked, you were sliding down the door as tears continued to roll down your now very flushed cheeks. You sloppily pried off your shoes, shoving them away as a throaty groan left you, a sudden burst of air flooding your lungs after not breathing for an unknown time. The choked sobs from the other side of the door made Jamie’s heart ache, especially since he knew he was the cause. He walked over to the door slowly, hoping that some way you might sense him and know how ashamed he felt.

There were no other thoughts in his mind other than how badly he wanted to wrap his arms around you. When you have your moments, the moments where you can’t stop yourself from crying, he’s always right next to you. Holding you contently, listening to you ramble about whatever has you upset, wiping your tears with his thumb, playing whatever show or movie you wanted to watch to try and keep your mind off whatever hell your day had been. After consoling you many times, he knew how long it sometimes took you to cool down, whether he was helping or not. Even if he was the cause, even if he couldn’t hold your shaking body while you sobbed, he’d kick himself if he didn’t wait for you to be okay. 

After not hearing anything for about 5 minutes, he thought it would make your night a tad bit easier if you had food to eat. You almost always asked him for a snack after a particularly emotional time, and he was never one to say no. It was always something simple; some crackers, half of a sandwich, fruit slices, he knew that something too heavy made your stomach hurt more after the tears. Sadly for you, a snack was the last thing on your mind. Your audible sobs had turned into silent cries, still very much happening and making your heart hurt more with each second. Did you want to forgive and forget this whole situation? More than anything. But you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him so easily with this, considering he knew how important this was for you.

Your eyes were puffy, nose bright red, and throat sore. Still, you knew your barely there hunger was more important than you sitting on the ground. With slight hesitation, you opened the door and nearly fell forward from sitting down, not that it would’ve made the situation much worse. It would take time for the dizziness and pressure on your head to fully go away, so you weren’t planning to move fast. No sounds were anywhere within range, and you almost wanted to start crying again. Jamie always stuck around to make sure you were okay, so why didn’t he this time? ‘Was he that annoyed with you?’ ‘Or did he go out to the bar again, wanting to get drunk over seeing you like this?’ The thoughts invaded your mind as you slowly made your way to your feet, leaning on your bed frame as you tried to steady yourself. 

Gradually making your way out of your room, you can’t ignore how your heart skips a beat when you see Jamie sitting on the couch. He doesn’t see you at first, only looking up from his phone when he notices movement from the corner of his eye. His heart breaks more when he sees your face, the faded makeup around your eyes from you wiping away tears, your lips dry from having to breathe through your mouth due to your nose being stuffy. Emotions were out of the question as he stood up from the couch and stepped over to you, pulling you into him. That caused more tears to come from you, these being more out of defeat than sadness.  A weak yelp came from you as you felt yourself being picked up and carried into the kitchen. Jamie sat you on the counter before going to the fridge and taking out the fruit slices he’d cut up earlier. You kept your face down so he wouldn’t see how bad you looked, even though you knew he didn’t care. Regardless how bad you thought you looked, he always thought you were the most angelic looking human to ever exist. His finger gently hooked under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment or annoyance that you could see, and it made your heart flutter. He gave you a small smile before reaching to get a fruit slice, holding it out for you to take.

You didn’t realize how much you really needed something in your stomach until you tasted the sweetness of the fruit in your mouth. It wasn’t a big slice, just enough to make you want more. After having about 5 more slices, you nodded to Jamie, signaling you weren’t wanting anymore. He turned around to put the rest of it away, mumbling under his breath how proud he was of you for eating something despite maybe not wanting to. Not 5 seconds passed before he was back in front of you, rubbing a hand on your back to try and calm you more. There was barely any space between you both as he wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled you closer to him again. The faded scent of his cologne made you lean into him more, burying your face in his neck.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, huh? It’s getting late, don’t want you sleeping in your fancy stuff.” He whispers, and you nod. You’d forgotten that you were still in your outfit, being preoccupied with your emotions for the past few hours. As Jamie picked you up again, you glanced at the clock on the stove and sighed to yourself when you saw the numbers flash ‘11:25’. Had you really spent that much time crying? Sure, you had a completely valid reason, but you hadn’t seen the time at all since you had been home. You’re sat on the bed and Jamie helps you change clothes, saying loving words to you the whole time. 

Too tired to argue with him, you let him lay next to you and wrap his arms around you. You missed the feeling of him holding you, even if you were still mad at him. The more you cuddled with him, the more relaxed you were, and you knew this was what you needed after being a wreck earlier. Time seems to freeze as you focus on the sound of his heartbeat, curling up more into his side as your tired eyes shut. His lips gently kissing the top of your head and his hand softly rubbing your back were the last things you felt before falling asleep, along with a barely audible “I love you, my angel.”

-

The distant scent of vanilla slowly pulled you from your sleeping state, and you smiled to yourself when you still saw Jamie lying next to you. He was awake and on his computer, probably typing an email for work, but you didn’t care enough to ask. One of his hands was on the blanket that was covering you, just so you’d feel him close to you. You notice how dark your room is, the only lights being Jamie's laptop, a candle on his bedside table, and the hallway light that was visible under your bedroom door. Your hand came from under the blanket and grabbed his, squeezing it lightly to say you were awake. Instinctively, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss right above your knuckles. “Did you sleep well? Lit your favorite candle and turned the lights off, I know how sensitive you are to them after nights like the last one.” His voice was quiet as he turned his attention from his computer to you, not wanting to say the wrong thing but also not wanting to have too much noise right when you woke up. Your eyes meet his and the sapphire sparkles in the dim lighting, no doubt making you fall in love with him even more. A small grin comes on your face as you nod at his question, cuddling into his side more and resting your head on his chest again. “I really do want to apologize for last night, angel. You shouldn’t have gone through that, and I know it’s entirely my fault. My dumbass drank too much, not that it’s an excuse. Is there any possible way I can make this up to you?” He nearly stuttered over his words, and it made your heart ache.

“I’m not gonna lie and say it’s okay, because it isn’t. I was heartbroken when I didn’t see you, Jamie. Then to see you just lounging around and hear that you went out drinking instead? You knew about this for months, I watched you write it on the calendar, and you still made other plans. I don’t know how you’re gonna get back from this one, but I’m hoping you put in more effort than you did last night.” You roll out of bed, grabbing clothes before going inside the bathroom to change. Several deep breaths escape from you as you try to not think about how you were curled against the door just last night. Not needing to go anywhere, you put on the sweatpants and hoodie you grabbed, both smelling faintly of Jamie’s cologne. Your mind drifts off, thinking about how tightly he hugged you last night. His hugs made you feel so safe and protected. He made you feel whole, like you could do anything. When you first met him, you’d just recently come out of a somewhat long relationship. Sure, your now 3 years with Jamie wasn’t anything compared to your previous year and a half with your ex, but Jamie was the first partner you had that actually gave a shit. You knew this relationship would be different from the first week, after he surprised you with flowers just because he wanted to see you smile, or when he took the both of you on a much needed vacation and practically worshiped you the whole time. The first kiss you shared with him took your breath away, and you knew you were addicted to him. It felt like a drug, the way your love for him took over, and vice versa. Within 3 months of dating him, you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Pure magic is what it felt like on a daily basis, and your heart was full. Shuffling from your room pulls you from your thoughts as you open the bathroom door to see Jamie gone. A sigh leaves you while you walk into the kitchen and see a note on the countertop. “Making it up to you. I promise I’ll be back soon, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. I love you, my angel. - Jamie”. Even the simple gesture of the note was enough to make your heartbeat a little quicker. There wasn’t a second that went by where Jamie didn’t love you and care about you. You both had your weak times like every other relationship on the planet, but there was never any bad blood between you both. He made sure you knew how much he loved you, whether it was with the actual words or gestures, he wanted you to feel appreciated and loved the second you woke up and the second you went to bed. Time went slowly the whole day, and very few messages from Jamie came your way. The occasional ‘Be back soon’, ‘Missing your beautiful face’, ‘I love you so much, darling’, all to which you responded with ‘please be careful, miss and love you’. It wasn’t a busy day, chores were done and you didn’t have anything urgent to respond to. While you didn’t want to spend the day wondering what he was doing, there was nothing else grabbing your attention. TV was crap and you didn’t feel like going out, not that you would on a weekday. Every bar/outing area was probably full to capacity and you really weren’t in the mood to be squeezed like a sardine in between people that were too drunk or high (or both) to care about your well being. All you felt like doing was having a quiet time to yourself, and that’s exactly what you did.

You don’t remember dozing off, but suddenly you were being woken up by Jamie’s lips on your cheek and his hand on your side. His eyes meet yours as they open, that golden smile making your cheeks turn the slightest shade of red. The silence between you was comfortable as he helped you up from where you laid on the couch. He led you into the kitchen and lifted you onto the countertop, standing in front of you until there was no room left between the two of you. Once his hands found a home on your thighs, a passionate kiss was pressed to your lips. It was the kind of kiss that took your breath away, like how he kissed you for the first time. There was no hesitation as you deepened the kiss, combing your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, earning a groan from him.

The kiss never broke as he carried you from the kitchen to your bedroom, laying you down as he got on top of you. Your legs wrap around his waist to keep him where he is, and his focus changes from your lips to your neck. He finds your sweet spot within seconds and sucks a faint mark onto your skin. You let out a quiet gasp as he presses another kiss onto the sensitive skin of your neck before pulling away. There’s no time to mutter out a word before he gives one more deep kiss to your lips, making you want more. To your dismay, he moves from you completely, freeing himself from your legs and rolling over to your side. A quiet laugh escapes him when he sees your face form a pout, and he places a delicate kiss on the tip of your nose.

“That was a treat for both of us, I could tell you needed a little pick-me-up recently. It’s luckily still early in the day, so what do you say we spend some much needed time together? We can do whatever you want, and we’ll stay out until you want to come home.” He crossed his arms and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t badly annoyed, just upset at yourself for letting him affect you this much. To say you wanted him to kiss you again and make you feel like you were on cloud 9 was an understatement, but the reminder in the back of your head that he wasn’t there for you kept poking through. It was easy for you to forgive and forget when the time was right, he knew this from all the times your friends pissed you off as a joke. However, he also knew that the bigger the fuck up, the longer it took you to find the heart to forgive a person, and he was determined to wait for as long as he needed to.

“As lovely as that sounds, could it wait until tomorrow? I’d like to mentally prepare myself for whatever it is we do.” You don’t mean for the words to come out as quietly as they did, but you felt shy for some reason. The both of you were normally touchy feely with each other, hugs and kisses were a part of your daily language. Even though you were still rightfully pissed at him, you did want to spend a day with Jamie. Just the two of you enjoying each other's company, maybe having a few too many drinks, or just doing whatever Jamie had planned; if anything. Your last date night was so long ago, the only thing you remembered was how it ended, it made you blush every time you thought about it.

“Of course my love, there’s not much to prepare for, but take all the time you need.” His words eased some anxieties you had as you looked over at him and met his eyes, making you blush and bite your lip from feeling bashful. He traces a finger across your cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You automatically lean into his touch and it makes both of you let out sighs of contentment. The moments where you could just be with each other, holding each other, whether you were talking or not, those were your favorite moments. Trying to find the space inside your heart to forgive him would eventually happen, but it wouldn’t happen so soon. Turning onto your side so your back was facing him, he knew he wasn’t in the clear, he only hoped that what he had planned would fix some of what he caused.

The rest of the day went as well as it could’ve gone, eating dinner with each other, the love never fading from the space. Jamie was being more flirty than normal, not that it was an issue. He tried following you into the bathroom for your shower, you only chuckled and kissed his cheek before closing the door in front of him. Certain phrases that he knew made you flustered were whispered in your ear when you were getting water, his arms wrapping around you from behind as you blushed from his words. Before you both fell asleep, Jamie pulled you closer to him and held you in place with his tattooed arm. You felt safe, protected from the outside world, you felt at home.

-

Your eyes fluttered open to a somewhat dark room, the sunlight peeking through the blinds and birds faintly chirping in the distance. Jamie’s arm was still draped over you, less tight than when you fell asleep, but still firmly keeping you in place. You lightly run your fingers across some of his tattoos, just admiring the beauty of the art on the human you were lucky enough to call yours. Gradually, your feather light touches pulled Jamie from his sleep, his own hand gently grabbing yours as he fully woke up. He ran his thumb over your knuckles, craning his head up just to the point where he’s able to press kisses from your wrist to your fingertips. 

“You ready to start the day, love? Can’t wait to see that beautiful face out and about. Check the closet, one of your friends sent their help picking your outfit when you were napping yesterday.” He presses a long kiss to your cheek before rolling out of bed, his morning voice echoing in your ears. Curiosity takes over as you kick the covers off and walk over to the doors, you didn’t know which friend came over, but they all definitely knew what your style was. The glance you gave to the mirror lasted longer than you thought it would after you changed clothes. Your hands gently went over the fabric and smoothed some of the wrinkles down to add the cherry on top. 

“Are you gonna be my date for the day? You know how much I love my arm candy.” His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you see his face appear beside yours, and you couldn’t even try to hide the smile on your face. A sweet kiss is pressed to the side of your neck as he squeezes you a little tighter. The warmth from his hands could be felt through your clothes as he gently rubbed circles on your sides, his small smile lighting up the room like it always did. Your hands rested on top of his as you fully leaned into him, his cologne invading your senses, almost making your brain fuzzy. Again, the silence between the two of you was comfortable, you could stay in this same position all day and you wouldn’t be upset, but you knew Jamie had plans for the both of you.

“Always love being your date, my angel. I’ll never get tired of it. But we have things to do today, let’s get going.” He spoke playfully in your ear as he lightly smacked your ass after the last sentence. It wasn’t in a sexual way, more like in a ‘we gotta go, i’ll follow you out’ way. The car ride to the downtown area was mostly quiet, the radio was turned down almost all the way, but the view outside the car was better than any music could’ve been. It was the time of year where the seasons were changing, and luckily the leaves hadn’t fallen off the trees yet. Different vibrant shades of orange, red, and yellow were everywhere, and the air was so crisp and just chilly enough to where you didn’t need a jacket on. 

Jamie’s glances over to you were missed as you looked out the window, but he didn’t care. As long as you had that smile on your face, the one that made his heart skip a beat when he saw it, the one where he knew you were genuinely happy, he was fine with seeing your side profile, he loved all angles of you the same. One of his hands moved from the steering wheel to your thigh out of instinct, lightly squeezing as his thumb caressed your clothes skin. You put your hand on top of his again and gave him a smile when he quickly looked over at you, your heart full already from the simple gesture. 

“Do I wanna ask why we’re driving down a dirt road?” You giggle lightly as you ask and you can see his face light up at the sound. He parks the car behind a rather large bush before turning to you, his eyes having a different look in them. Your eyebrow raises as he reaches to the backseat and reveals a silk blindfold. “Don’t tell me we’re about to do something, baby. I’m all for spicing things up, but we’re in a public place, in a car, and in the middle of nowhere. This is testing the limits even for you.” His chuckle is lighthearted as he puts the blindfold on your lap, looking at you with pure adoration. 

“If I say where we are, it’ll ruin the surprise. Put this on and I’ll help you out darling, nothing to be nervous about.” He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek and smiles when he sees your cheeks flush to a light shade of pink. No matter how many times he kisses you, he’ll never get tired of seeing you get flustered from it. You take a deep breath before you tie the blindfold over your eyes, careful to not get your hair tangled in it. Once it was fully covering your eyes, you searched for Jamie's hands in front of you. The familiar smoothness of his palm welcomed your hands as he squeezed them briefly before getting out of the car and rushing to your side.

“If you brought me to some weird ass place, I don’t even know an example, but if it’s something weird-” You cut yourself off with a laugh as you nearly trip over what you think is a tree branch. Jamie catches you, his ringed hands holding you a little more firmly as he guides you to wherever the hell you’re going. The ground beneath you turned from hard to soft, and you pictured it turning from dirt to grass. A slight whistle of wind makes goosebumps form and Jamie lovingly rubs your arms while giving you a sweet kiss on your lips. He stops suddenly, holding you in place as your heartbeat quickens with anticipation of what’s to come.

The blindfold is removed and your eyes take in the sight around you. Jamie brought you to a flower field, one that went as far as the eye could see. Sunflowers, daisies, peonies, and tulips were everywhere you looked in all directions. Even though the air was starting to get cooler, the flowers hadn’t started to wilt. It was like they were waiting for you to be there and appreciate the beauty that nature had to give before they went away for the winter. Apparently it looked like Jamie had been there earlier, the picnic setup on the ground in front of you looking like a dream you might’ve had at one point. You turn to him and he has his golden smile again, the one that makes you forget your troubles.

“I didn’t bring you to a weird ass place, I brought you to a cute ass place. You’ve always wanted a flower field picnic, so I figured why not have one now?” You both sat down on the blanket, the flowers consuming the both of you in the best way. All you saw were bright colors and Jamie, and that’s really all you cared for at the moment. The picnic was sweet, cheesy moments of you feeding each other strawberries, and loving moments where Jamie talked about the future he saw with you. Birds chirping in the trees caught your attention for a split second, leading to Jamie gently turning your attention back to him with a passionate kiss. It catches you off guard the slightest bit, but you don’t care. 

“I didn’t know how badly I needed this. Just an us day. I love how thoughtful your mind is, baby. Really means a lot to me.” You put your palm on his cheek and he leans into your touch. He pulls something from his pocket and holds it in his hand. Your hand moves to grab your cup, taking a sip of the juice Jamie poured for you. A flash of light from the corner of your eye makes you look back to Jamie, and you see he’s holding the necklace you found at the jewelry store the other week. Something about the design made your heart happy, and it wasn’t just the gems. Each of them had their own unique sparkle in the sunlight, the colors being as vibrant as the flowers you were surrounded by. 

“For the record, you look more gorgeous than this necklace ever will. But I knew it would make you smile, and that makes you look even more gorgeous.” Your heart swells at his words while you turn your body so he can put the necklace on you. It sits perfectly on your collarbone, and you swear that you can’t feel happier than that moment. “We’d better go if we want to have time for everything else.” He says after looking at the time. By looking around you, you could tell it wasn’t late in the day, which meant he had more planned. You were nervous, but more excited than anything else. 

You make your way back to his car and put everything away before hopping back in, wondering where Jamie would be taking you next. It was another quiet ride, occasionally making eye contact which made you smile, and made him squeeze your hand gently. The dirt road turned back to gravel, and you saw the familiar shops that you’d pretty much grown up with. A few more turns came, and then the name of your favorite café came into view and you turned to look at Jamie again, your hand holding his a little tighter. 

“How cliché, the place we had our first date. I love it.” You said it teasingly, but the love in your voice was unmistakable. He parked and got out, almost running to open your door so you didn’t have to, the natural gentleman in him jumping out. His hand took yours again, intertwining your fingers as you walked over to the door. The familiar scent of freshly baked sweets, amongst other things, filling the space around you. Jamie walked in behind you and got the attention of one of the employees who quickly made their way over to you. “We have your reserved spot right outside!” Your face turns to look at Jamie and you mouth ‘You reserved a spot?’ His hand on your back gently guiding you to the table was your answer, and the view made you stop in your tracks.

You were a local to the area, grown up not too far away from the main tourist attraction. Still, every time you came over, especially during the fall/winter times, you were mesmerized. The area looked like it could be right out of a tv show, all the café’s, arcades, even mini golf courses. All leading to a boardwalk that went out quite a bit over the crystal clear waters. During the summer it was always hot and even though it wasn’t a beach, the sea was still very populated during those months. Luckily you lived in a place that had actual cold seasons, not that 75℉/23℃ in December B.S., so it was like a winter wonderland in the cold. The sea hadn’t frozen over yet since the temperature hadn’t dropped that much, but the 65℉/18℃ was comfortable. Sounds of children laughing with their families flooded your ears while views of the sun just starting to set captivated your eyes. It almost looked like a rainbow in the sky, various purples, light blues, pinks, and gold colors painted across the cloudless canvas. 

Jamie snapped you out of your thoughts, pulling out your chair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You sat down to look at the menu while Jamie went back inside. The slight breeze made you shiver, but you weren’t fully cold, it was nothing a hot chocolate couldn’t help. If the whole location wasn’t ‘movie-esque’ enough, a butterfly landed on the menu right in front of you. Its wings almost glimmering with the different colors above shining down on it. As quickly as it appeared, it flew away, right as Jamie came back with his hands full. 2 hot chocolates, cookies, mini doughnuts, and 2 slices of pumpkin pie were on the tray he held. 

“You weren’t looking at the menu, were you? My love, you know I already have your order memorized! We come here every year around this time, just wanted to spoil you a bit more tonight.” He kissed the top of your head before sitting down. Your hand came up to gently run over your necklace, feeling the detail of how everything fit together. Jamie held your other hand as he took a sip of his hot chocolate, the steam making his glasses slightly fog up. He didn’t want to overwhelm you with the food choices, he knew that if there was too much in front of you, you’d only pick at it and not have any. That was just one of the many reasons why you loved him, he always kept your feelings in mind, no matter what he did. Always making sure you were comfortable, and he always tried his best to make up for when he made mistakes.

“You’d think I know that by now, I mostly just check to see if anything new is added. It means a lot that you know what I get, I love that you pay attention to the small stuff.” You smile as you sip your hot chocolate before having a mini doughnut. It was as if time just stopped at that moment. Not only was the love of your life sitting across from you and looking at you like the goddess you were, but the sky continued to take your breath away. Nothing could’ve made this moment better, and you were happy that you got to spend it with the man who made your heart feel complete. “I really can’t believe you did this, Jamie. It’s all so stunning.” Your hands motion to the food in front of you and to the view around you. There were really no words to describe it other than beautiful. 

“Says the one who looks like that, you’re the stunning one, baby.” He looks you up and down while giving you that look, and you can’t help the redness that appears on your cheeks. You both continue to eat away at what he brought out, taking your time with the pie since it was your favorite. Eventually you finished everything, including the hot chocolate, and then made your way onto the boardwalk, your finger intertwined with Jamie’s. “We still have one more place to go, and I think you’ll appreciate this one. Even though the light is hitting you just right, we have to get going again.” His hand traced the side of your face as he spoke, and the way he looked at you made your heart flutter.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Jamie. I don’t know what else there could be to do!” You pull him in for a hug just as a strong gust of wind hits you. He holds you close to him in such a secure way, it felt like nothing could tear you two apart. Your face buried in his neck and his hands rubbing your back, the now prominent scent of his cologne, it was all overwhelming your senses in the best way. The look in his eye when he pulled away didn’t leave any room for guessing, you knew what thought he was having and you nodded your head. There was no hesitation as he pressed his lips to yours, and you only deepened the kiss as he pulled you closer to him. Sadly, it was over sooner than you wanted it to be, his hands finding a home on your hips.

“My love, we still have to go somewhere else. Come on, it’ll be the finishing touch for tonight.” Laughter follows his words as he sees your faux pouting face. His hand grabs yours again while you walk back to his car for the 2nd time that night. You didn’t ask where he was taking you, but you trusted him with your life and knew that he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. The radio was slightly turned up for the first time that night and you saw that Jamie connected his aux. He started typing in a song and you were curious, your eyes softening as you heard the opening piano playing. “Is it a sad song? Technically yes. But I know Harry makes you happy, so I’m happy to play it for you.” A quick kiss landed on your cheek before he started driving, humming along to the song playing.

You kept looking at the areas out the window, trying to figure out where Jamie was taking you. It wasn’t until you saw the steps that you put the pieces together. Your eyes landed on Jamie as he parked the car, you could tell he was trying not to make eye contact because he didn’t want you to be upset. A quiet sigh escaped from you, and it made Jamie nearly flinch when he couldn’t figure out the meaning of it. When your hand reached over to gently turn his face in your direction, you couldn’t decipher the emotion his eyes showed. There was a mix of worry, dread, sympathy, panic, and love, and you could almost cry from seeing how nervous he was. 

“I’m not mad, baby. Not at all. I guess confused is a better term? Just didn’t think you’d want to be here.” You muttered the words more quietly than you intended, but he heard them loud and clear. He didn’t say anything back, instead getting out of the car and walking to your side as you unbuckled your seatbelt just as he made it over to you. Like earlier, he helped you out and intertwined your fingers as you made your way to the gallery entrance. Jamie pulled the key from his pocket and ignored your confused face for a second, unlocking the door and letting you in before him.

“I pulled a few strings, I had to see my beautiful girl's outstanding work.” Your heart beamed at his words for the hundredth time that night, walking behind him as he slowly approached the gold frame that still hung on the wall. “It’s absolutely magnificent, darling. There isn’t anything you can’t do.” He put an arm around your waist as you made your way over to him. You sadly couldn’t give him a more genuine smile as you remembered how you felt that night when he didn’t show up for you. The tears that spilled from you didn’t catch his attention, but the whimper that you tried to hold back did. The opportunity to turn your face away from him wasn’t an option as he turned you to fully face him.

“To say that I’m sorry is an understatement. There’s no excuse for how much of a dumbass i was. I knew this was happening, I made the plan to be here, and then it didn’t happen. I got too drunk and got a ride home, sobered up and just did my thing. Knowing that you were having a hard time, that you could’ve been having anxiety because I wasn’t there makes my heart break more every time I think about it. There will never be words to tell you how sorry I am, and I know that. Tonight wasn’t about you forgiving me, it was about me showing you how awful I felt, and still feel, about missing something that was so important and special to you. You always have been, and always will be the most important person in my life, and hearing you break down that night was one of the worst things I’ve ever heard, especially knowing I was the cause. You didn’t deserve that to happen, you only deserve the best, and I’m always going to be sorry that I caused you so much pain. The love of my life should never feel this way, my angel.” 

More tears came from you at his words, and you could see them forming in his eyes as well. His thumbs wiped away your tears gently, while one fell down his cheek. You don’t know how long you just stood in the silence, but when he pulled you in for another hug, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It was like all the stress and worry and anxiety from inside just came out at once. He didn’t stop comforting you, holding you while you shook like a leaf from crying so much. Your arms gripped him tighter, not wanting him to leave, even though you knew he wouldn’t. 

A shallow wave of relief came over him, he knew he was your safe place, and you were his. Though he couldn’t tell clearly if the tears were from how happy you were today, or if they were from you remembering how shitty you felt from the other night, he could tell the sigh you let out was from relief. Him letting you go wasn't a thought in his head at all when you hugged him even tighter, he just wanted to hold you until you felt better, until you felt whole again. If it took forever, he’d be there, after all, you were the love of his life, and he wanted to make sure you knew it.

-

a/n- again, i'm so, so very sorry for how long this took me to write. i wanted to make sure it was good since it's my first ever angst/fluff fic, and taking over 2 months was never what i planned on. i hope you all enjoy it, apologies once more 🤍

taglist: @hellfire-isnt-it, @hellfirebabes, @Ima1986 (wouldn't let me tag you) if you wanna be tagged in future fics, send me your user!

[silkpagess]

The Whispering Shadows

Summary: Harry is a skeptic, grounded in logic and consumed by an investigation that defies explanation. When he crosses paths with Y/N, a sharp, enigmatic medium drawn into the same mystery, he's forced to confront what he can't understand. Though he doesn't trust easily, her presence is impossible to ignore. As the case deepens and their connection intensifies, Harry begins to question everything he thought he believed, including her.

Content Warning: This story isn't for everyone. Harry is a detective inspector who's trying to solve a series of murder cases, some parts will contain graphic scenes. Please move on if you don't enjoy this sort of content.

Winchester, England – October 28th, 2:36 AM

The forest had teeth. That’s what Elsie Wright thought as her boots cracked through a web of brittle twigs, and a heavy fog licked her skin like something alive. Trees loomed on either side of her, crooked and black, huddled like old men whispering secrets too ugly for daylight.

She hadn’t meant to stray this far. The pub had closed early. Her mates were already tucked into Ubers or boyfriends’ cars. But she needed the walk. Needed to clear her head. And the forest path, usually calm, almost romantic in the fall, had always been her shortcut home.

Tonight, though, it felt… wrong.

The wind didn’t move the way it should’ve. It whistled through the bare branches like a scream with nowhere to go. The kind of scream you keep inside when your skin is burning, your mouth is full of blood, and you know no one’s coming to help.

Elsie’s breath hitched. She glanced behind her.

Empty.

She picked up her pace.

The stories were just that, stories. The Hollow Wood wasn’t cursed, despite what the kids at St. Catherine’s whispered during sleepovers. No witches lived here, no ghosts. No one was hunting.

Still.

She heard it.

First, it was just a whisper. Soft. Like the rustle of leaves. But it grew. Became a rhythm. Footsteps. Wet ones. Slapping the mud too hard. Too close.

Elsie froze. “Hello?”

Nothing.

She tried again, louder. “Oi, you’re not funny—cut that shit out!”

Then she saw it.

A shape. No more than twenty feet away. Wrong somehow. Tall, thin, wrapped in shadow. Motionless. Watching.

Elsie’s scream caught in her throat. Her knees locked, useless. It stepped forward.

One step.

Then another.

Her body finally obeyed. She ran. Tripping over roots, dodging branches, lungs burning as she tore down the path. The thing behind her didn’t run—it stalked. Silent. Confident.

As if it already knew how this would end.

She broke through the trees. There—up the hill—were the village lights. She would be safe.

But the ground beneath her feet gave out.

She fell hard, tumbling into a narrow ravine slick with rot and leaves. Something cracked in her shoulder. Pain blinded her. She couldn’t scream. Only whimper.

And then, from the top of the ravine, it looked down.

It had no face. Only a gaping, pulsating blackness where a face should be. Like it was made of smoke and grief and something much older than hate.

Elsie choked as the figure descended. Not rushed—no, it took its time. As if savoring her fear.

When it reached her, she finally screamed.

It didn’t matter. By the time the villagers found her body at dawn, her mouth was still wide open. Her eyes too. But they saw nothing now.

Just empty sockets filled with salt and dirt.

⸻

Chapter One – The Arrival

Scotland Yard, London – November 1st, 9:02 AM

Detective Chief Inspector Harry Styles leaned over the crime scene photos like a man confronting a riddle that insulted his intelligence. 

Three bodies.

Three monsters, if the files were to be believed. Convicted sex offenders. Known abusers. Dead—each in separate parts of Winchester, within weeks of each other.

Torn apart. Faces obliterated. Organs removed with surgical precision. No prints. No footprints. No witnesses. And, most chillingly, no signs of struggle.

As if they had simply… accepted it.

He thumbed through the autopsy reports, frowning. The coroner’s notes were oddly poetic. Unprofessional. Phrases like “as if gripped by something not of this world” and “expression locked in divine terror.”

Harry exhaled sharply and tossed the paper aside. “Bloody hell.”

His superior, Superintendent Lewis, stood by the door, arms crossed. “I know that look.”

Harry ran a hand through his curls and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not in the mood for village fairy tales. Let the locals handle it. It’s probably just some deranged vigilante.”

Lewis shook his head. “No. You’re going.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“Winchester’s force is spooked. They requested help. You’re the only one I trust not to run off screaming into the moors.”

“I don’t do ghost stories.”

Lewis handed him a manila folder with a single photograph inside. A woman.

She stood in front of an ancient stone cottage, half-hidden by vines and shadows. Her eyes—dark, sharp—seemed to burn through the photo itself. There was something unsettling about her stillness, like she knew you were looking.

Harry frowned. “Who’s she?”

“Y/N L/N, she’s a local medium. Claims to have spoken with the dead since she was a child. Helps with disappearances, unsolved cases. People believe in her.”

He snorted. “And we believe in the tooth fairy now, do we?”

Lewis didn’t smile. “One of the victims—first one—had scribbled her name on the wall in his own blood before he died. Only word. Y/N.”

Harry went still.

“I want you on a train to Hampshire in two hours. Stay as long as you need. Solve it.”

Harry stood, jaw tight. “Fine. But let me be clear: I’m not entertaining séances or crystal balls.”

Lewis’s voice dropped. “Good. Because if she’s behind this—we need to know how a woman who’s never left her cottage in years might be killing men with no trace. And if she isn’t…”

He let that hang.

Harry nodded once and left.

But even as he descended the Yard’s old marble staircase, her eyes followed him from that photo. Unblinking.

Watching.

[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor-The Present

Chapter 2

Word count: 5,075

Warnings: Violence, gun, blood, nightmare, slight panic attack.

Author's note: Thank you for the love on Chapter one! Feedback is appreciated:) Here's the link if you've not read it: Chapter One

There was no way y/n could follow Harry around all day, he was a busy doctor. He had patients to tend to. For the time being, she didn't have a better idea except to continue meeting him at the bar. 

"Have you always wanted to be a doctor?", she asks the man, clad in a lime green shirt today. He seemed like he was in better spirits than he was the previous night, so y/n took the opportunity. 

"I..don't know.", Harry's eyebrows furrow, like he tried to think, and it hurt him to remember. "I know how to treat people."

"That's nice.", y/n nods. "It must be a big responsibility, having lives of people in your hands."

"I think I'm used to it.", he replies shortly. "Why are you so interested?", he looks up at her.

"Just like that.", she shrugs. "Can I not make friends? I'm new to this town."

"Why did you come here?", he asks.

"Less expenses than in the city.", y/n sighs, looking around at the bar. Girls swinging their hips on the dance floors, guys looking at them like they were a piece of meat, and lots of loud music blasting. This wasn't her scene at all.

"You don't like getting drinks.", Harry tells her, more like a statement than a question. He was observing her too.

"I don't mind the drinks, it's the whole scene I don't like. I prefer spending my free nights in my bed, with ice cream and a good novel."

Harry cracked what looked like a small smile, one of the dimples on his cheek popping, which made y/n feel warm. She cursed herself for feeling like that, before continuing with the talk. "You said you want to make friends. I'm not the right guy, y/n.", Harry says.

"Why? You're ice cold, mean and friendless? What a sad lifestyle you must lead, Doctor."

He chuckles, popping some of the fried peanuts into his mouth. "I'm not cold and mean."

"So you are friendless.", y/n concludes.

"What's the point? I don't have time for friends.", he says.

"But you need friends in your life, Harry. Friends support you through hard times, you can be yourself with them, and you can have lots of fun!"

"Friends also betray you.", he grumbles.

"Have you been betrayed be a friend or a close one?", y/n asks, trying to know if there were people he thought plotting against him and Reagen in the past.

"I don't remember.", he snaps, motioning for the bartender to fill up his drink. y/n waits for him to calm down, watching him tip the entire glass down his throat and groan. 

"Whiskey's your choice of poison?", she asks, flinching. She doesn't like the burn of whiskey.

"Yes, but it's too much for someone like you. You should try something sweeter, like rum.", he says. "Old Monk rum for the lady please.", he tells the bartender.

"What do you mean by someone like you?", she raises her eyebrows at him.

"You know what I mean.", he simply says. y/n decided to come back to the topic of friends. "Do you have a best friend?"

Harry freezes again, and y/n observes the look in his eyes like he was trying to remember a painful memory. Oliver had told her that Harry was his best friend. He needed his best friend back, and she heard the suffering in his voice when he told her that. "N-No..no, I don't think so, I don't know. I have memory issues, I don't remember a lot of stuff."

y/n nods. "That's okay. Well, I can be your best friend. I mean, I can start by being your friend and then we can see how it goes."

Harry smirks. "You really want to be my friend, don't you?"

"Be grateful I'm taking pity on you, Mr. Friendless mysterious guy.", y/n replies, and Harry laughs. y/n smiles. So he does remember how to laugh.

The bartender keeps her drink in front of her. "I've never tried this before.", y/n says, looking at the dark, sweet smelling liquid.

"You'll like it.", Harry says confidently. "Trust your new friend's drink choosing ability."

y/n grins and tries it. The liquid drink went down smooth, leaving her mouth refreshing and quenching for more. It had almost a dehydrated berry taste to it, which she really loved. She also felt the slight warmth of the alcohol.

"I do like it.", she decides, taking another sip. "How did you know?"

"Just like that.", he shrugs, imitating her from their conversation earlier, and she smiled, liking him more as she got to know him a little. "Oh and by the way you agreed to us being friends.", she adds, in case he let it slip by accident.

"Just friends, y/n?", he gets up after stuffing some cash inside the book the bill came in. y/n sits there thinking about what he said, and he gives her a small wave. "I'm gonna get to bed, see you around."

Harry leaves the bar, leaving y/n pondering. Did he want something more than friendship with her? She couldn't deny that she wasn't attracted to the man, but she couldn't take advantage of him like that. She was already feeling bad for befriending him for someone else. She was only using him and he didn't know that. She decided that she wouldn't let her feelings grow. Yes, he was handsome, and it was natural to get attracted, but she wasn't going to let anything else happen between them. 

______________________________________________________

The painting was gorgeous. It as crafted with such bright tones, and beautiful color bleding. y/n had poured all of her emotion into it. It was piece she didn't look at very often. She didn't keep it for sale either. It was personal. 

The woman in the painting was made of a mix of colors. Her eyes were standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her oval face.

"This is beautiful.", Harry speaks. "You paint more of landscapes, who is this woman?"

y/n sucks in a breath, approaching a sensitive topic. "I don't know..I think it's my mom. I remember how she looked like..but my Uncle Luke said my parents left me when I was little."

Harry tears his eyes away from the painting, looking at her. "I'm sorry. You haven't tried to contact them?"

y/n shakes her head. "I've thought about it, but I don't know if I can take whatever the truth is. And I'm happy with my Uncle."

Harry nods, looking at the other paintings. "Can I buy it?"

"Sure, which one?"

"All of it?"

"All of it!?"

"I have a new flat, it's empty.", Harry says flatly, like it was obvious. "This would look nice on the walls."

"But all of them is going to look like an art gallery and less of a flat, Harry. Um let's select a few out, okay?", y/n says, and Harry nods. "I'll have to see what your flat looks like, to know what matches."

y/n wanted to see if she can get her hands on any pictures, any files, or anything that can point out to his past life.

"Fine, let's have tea at my place.", Harry agrees and she smiles, nodding. "See, you're getting the hang of things for someone who hasn't had friends before."

Harry only gave the girl a small smile, continuing to look around her studio. 

Harry's flat was huge. Two bedrooms, a big kitchen with a patio, a beautiful balcony overlooking the small town. It was neutral themed, the colors brown and cream. Harry makes them tea, and brings out some cookies as they sit on the couch. 

"For looks like yours, you had to have been in love at least once.", y/n says, and Harry keeps his cup of tea down. "Maybe. Don't remember. Are you saying I'm handsome?"

y/n bites her lip as Harry smirks. "I didn't say that. You may be good looking, that's all."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"She must have been lucky, whoever the girl was.", y/n tries to get it out of him. Come on, please remember something so I know you really are the person Romania told me about. 

Harry sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead like he had a headache. "I-I..I don't believe in it."

"Believe in love?", y/n asks, and he nods, bringing his hand back and looking at her with those beautiful eyes. "Do you believe in love y/n?"

y/n nods. "Of course. Love is like this overwhelming sentiment that keeps you up all night and makes you feel like a little child waiting for Christmas day. The feeling of having a soulmate and a place you can really call home, that sounds promising."

Harry's eyes ran over soft features, as he spoke, "You sound like you have been in love."

y/n laughs, biting into a cookie. "Nah, me? I talk too much, and I'm weird. Who would want to love me?"

"There might be someone.", Harry whispers softly, but not soft enough so y/n couldn't hear it.

__________________________________________

"I'm not sure if he is the man you're looking for.", y/n tells Romania on the phone. "He doesn't remember anything about his past, and he's such a sweet guy! He's a doctor who saves lives for god sake, he's not your mafia boss!"

"He's had you fooled by his charm, Miss y/l/n.", Romania huffs. "The reason he remained our secret weapon was because of how easily he could blend in. Do not fall for his charm, it's all an act."

"I think he really doesn't remember, Romania.", y/n twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, worried about what she has to do.

"He does, y/n. I have to believe he does, for his own good.", Romania sighs. "Or we have to kill him."

y/n's hand freezes over the phone. "K-Kill him?"

"Yes, he's a threat to our opponents. He knows too much. If they get to him first..", Romania drawls off. "You won't understand, y/n, just know that he is very important. You are our last hope. If you cannot prove that he remembers, then we will kill him. At least he'll get to be with Reagen then."

"Y-You can't kill him.", y/n whispers, her heart beating fast. What did she agree to? She made a deal with people capable of killing a poor man?

"Then do your job, y/n. I'm sending another fifty thousand to your account. Update me soon." Romania hung up with that, and y/n sat down heavily, hand on her forehead. She has to find a way to break into his shell. She doesn't want to be responsible for the death of a man.

__________________________________________________________

Broken windows. Blood covering the pieces of glass. Someone held a gun to her forehead, the face unclear. The wind was strong, piercing her skin. Then she heard the trigger being pulled and a shot being fired.

y/n wakes up with a gasp, her body sweating under the linen sheets. She closes her eyes, pressing a hand to her heart in relief. It was just a dream. The same dream she keeps having. Uncle Luke had told her to stop watching and reading mystery. This was the consequence.

Her thoughts went to Harry as she pours herself some water. She wasn't even supposed to ask questions to Romania. There were so many questions she had. About his line of work, about his family, about why the opponents had stayed away from him so far, and most importantly, about Reagen. How did they meet? How was their relationship? Were they going to get married?

So many questions she couldn't have the answers to.

The next morning, her Uncle Luke wanted to go on a walk, so she went with him. "Boy troubles.", Uncle Luke observes. "Who is it?"

"It's no one.", y/n dismisses it, feet trudging over the fallen autumn leaves. She didn't like the town, but she couldn't help but admit it was pretty. Full of trees.

"Really?", Uncle Luke teases and she sighs, giving up. "It's just Harry."

"Who's Harry?"

Her uncle had forgotten all about her side job, and the mysterious guy she was spying on. y/n cooked up a story about a customer named Harry to make Uncle Luke happy. She would do anything for him.

She fixed up some breakfast for him before rushing to the cafe. She was running a little late. She got to her painting. Then sat at a table, eating a lovely sugary custard pastry and drinking her ice lemon mint tea while she had a break.

"Do you always eat so much sugar?"

She looked up surprised to see Harry. "It's not good for your health.", he says, before sitting down across from her. "After you shove the sugary cereal down your throat for breakfast, you have this as your everyday snack?"

"Woah, don't go Doctor mode on me.", y/n laughs, continuing to enjoy her pastry. "But it's so good, and this is the only time I'm relaxing, so let me have my pastry, okay?"

"Suit yourself.", Harry eyes it with disgust. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at the hospital?", y/n asks him.

"It's my day off.", he answers, eyes moving to her lips as he watched her tongue peek out to clean up the little bits of custard. "Thought to spend it with my friend."

"Ahh.", y/n smiles. "How do you wanna spend it then?"

"Someone once told me it's fun to have ice cream and watch a movie. Show me how it's fun."

"Is that a challenge?", y/n grins, quickly downing the rest of her drink. 

"Sure.", Harry gives her a signature smirk, before he leaned forward to bring his hand up to her face. His hand rests on her cheek as his thumb gently rubs away a bit of custard on the side of her mouth. y/n felt goosebumps on her skin as he touched her, and their eyes meet. y/n gets lost in the depth of Harry's eyes. She saw something she hadn't seen before. 

Pain.

Harry quickly pulled away and y/n grabbed a tissue. "Give me a minute.", she told him, and he nodded, waiting for her. y/n had done her paintings for the day, and she signed out of the cafe. 

They went to the grocery store to pick up some goods, all while talking happily like friends. Harry was lowering the guard he had up, and although that made y/n happy, it made her guilty at the same time. He thought she was his friend. He was trusting her. 

And what was she doing? 

She was using his friendship to get out some information that she doesn't care about, out of him so she can get the rest of her money from the deal and lead her life.

A man lurking behind them caught y/n's attention in the grocery store. She ushered them to the next aisle, and she saw another man at the end of it. Both of them were looking at Harry like he was their worst enemy.

y/n remembered what Romania had told her about their opponents. 

"Harry, let's get out of here.", y/n keeps her hand on his arm, feeling the urge to protect him. He did not deserve this. He didn't even know who he is. 

"Wait, we didn't get the kind of noodles you like-"

"-This will do." y/n puts one of the instant ramen packets into their trolley, staring back at the men hoping they'll back off. "Come on."

Harry follows her with the trolley, oblivious to the men watching him. He offered to pay, and y/n quickly gets them back into her car. 

"Why were you rushing?", Harry asks.

"I um..I have to pee!"

"There was a restroom inside.", Harry points out.

"Yes I'm scared of urinary tract infections, yeast infections especially, they're so nasty, have you seen the pictures? I'm scared of using public toilets.", she lies, and rambles on.

Harry looked at her for a second, before doubling over and laughing. y/n smiled sheepishly, adoration filling her as she watched him laugh. That laugh did things to her. 

"Well okay let's go then, you have to pee!", he says, and they both laugh as y/n pulls out of the parking lot, missing the two men staring at them from a distance.

_____________________________________

y/n watches Harry as he immerses in the movie, watching it with interest. They had obviously decided on a crime thriller. She had seen before, and she was more interested in studying the tall man beside her, lounging in his sweatpants, curled up on his couch. 

"You're right, I should do this more often.", Harry mumbles, leaning back and stealing a glance at y/n. "You sleepy?"

y/n was a little sleepy with the lack of sleep last night, but she shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. "Not at all!"

A mountain of blankets and half eaten snacks rested on the coffee table in front of them, and she knew she probably wouldn't make it through the whole movie but she had to. 

"Did you go to a doctor about your memory issues?", y/n decides to bite, and Harry heard her, but he still asks, "Sorry?"

"You have memory issues, you can't remember a lot of things. Have you seen a doctor about that?"

Harry pauses the movie. "No. It won't help."

"Why not?"

"I've tried taking medicine, it won't come back. I lost those memories for a reason y/n, I don't want to bring them back. Just like how you don't want to reach out to your parents.", Harry answers, jaw clenching. "I have a good life here. I'm happy."

"Are you though?", y/n leans forward to him. "Are you really happy, Harry?"

Harry remained quiet, studying her face. "It doesn't matter."

"It does! I wish to see you happy. If we can get your past behind you, maybe you can-"

"-I'm already behind it. I don't know what happened in the past, and I don't care. Can we just watch the movie?"

y/n sighed in defeat, but nodded, curling back on the other side of the couch as Harry presses play on the movie. How the hell was she going to get him to remember who he was?

y/n can't fight of the sleep for too long. Harry sees her dozing off, and a fond smile coats his lips as he looks at her. He wanted to carry her to bed, where she could sleep more comfortably but he figured he wouldn't without her permission. Instead, he went to his room to get his blanket and tucked it around her small frame. 

He hated anyone in his personal space, but this was y/n. He could make an exception. Hell, he had already invited her into his house.

y/n mumbles incoherently in her sleep, and Harry coots closer to her, keeping a hand on her arm, in case she was having a bad dream, and continued to watch the movie.

y/n saw the same dream again. Blood. Broken window. Glass. Gun. 

Harry frowned as her serene, peaceful face split into a disturbed one. Her eyebrows scrunching, and her legs tucking underneath her chin. She began to shake lightly.

"y/n.", Harry shakes her awake gently.

y/n runs in her dream, away from the gun, but the shot is still fired from the gun. Before she could see who was injured, she jolts awake.

Her scared eyes meet Harry's. "Hey, it's okay, you're in my flat, we were watching a movie and you fell asleep.", Harry strokes some of her hair back from her forehead as she looks at him, like she wanted reassurance that she's safe. 

Harry doesn't hesitate before pulling her into his lap, wrapping his muscular strong arms around her, and tucking her head into his chest. "Shh..it's okay, you're okay. It was just a dream."

He felt a strong emotion to kill anyone or anything that caused y/n to get so scared. He knew it was in her dream, but he hated the thought of y/n being hurt. She was so delicate, so sweet, he had to protect her.

"H-Harry?", y/n whispers into his chest, her arms tightening around his body.

"Yes?", Harry whispers back, continuing to stroke her hair to soothe her. 

"I'm sorry.", she sniffles, and he gets confused. Was she apologizing for having a bad dream? He had a feeling it was for something else. Either way, she was shaken up and his job was to get her to relax and make her feel okay.

"Don't be, sunshine. I got you."

______________________________________________________

y/n felt horrible. She felt like a monster. Here there was a man who comforted her when she was scared, and on the other hand, what was she doing? She was just doing her task. She would eventually throw him to Romania like he was a piece of meat. y/n felt like electricity was coursing through her veins when Harry's hands smoothed over her body and her hair, calming her down. He scooped her into his lap with no effort, and y/n felt safe.

She felt safe like she never had before. She wanted to stay in his arms forever and forget everything else that happened. She wished she'd met this man before all the Romania and money crap. She wanted to call her and tell her she couldn't do it anymore, but she couldn't back away now. Harry is not showing any signs of who he was five years ago. If he really is that person, then y/n needs to bring his memories back. His friends, or a family y/n doesn't know about, they need him. 

She apologized to him, said that she's sorry for hurting him and doing this to him, but he thought she was worrying about her dream scare. If only he knew the truth.

Then there was what he called her. He called her sunshine. It sounded so sweet, and she wishes he calls her that again. y/n could no longer deny it. She had feelings for Harry, and the feelings kept growing. 

One week. It has been seven days since she started her task. She has only three more weeks to get Harry to open up. She has to gain his trust first. Yes, he's letting her into his house, he's getting comfortable around her, but she has to gain his full trust. 

"Here you go, chicken alfredo. You need some real food after all that ice cream.", Harry smiles as he serves the pasta he just made into two plates. 

"I didn't know you could cook.", y/n says impressed as she sits on the chair. 

"How could you? You've never had my food before. Now you know.", Harry answers, sitting beside her with his plate. He watched her as she tastes it. y/n let the creamy pasta satisfy her taste buds, and the flavorful bite of the chicken was amazing.

"It's so good.", she hums. "You're multi talented. Any other hobbies? Secret gamer? Guitarist? Cyber hacking? Gold smuggler?" y/n waits for his response to the last two.

Harry chuckles, eating his own pasta. "Gold smuggler?"

"I don't know, mystery guy. You tell me.", y/n says playfully.

"Not that I know of. But that would be an interesting secret hobby, wouldn't it y/n?", he asks, giving her a look. What was that look? Was it a knowing look? Was he teasing her? Was he hiding?

"I guess, y-yeah.", y/n replies shortly.

If he is hiding, he's doing a very good job of it. He remembers everything, he's putting up an act, a mask. Romania's words lingered in y/n's brain.

"I do play the guitar. How did you know?", he asks, pouring some water into both of their glasses.

"Your fingers are calloused.", y/n states her observation. 

"Observant, I see.", Harry nods impressed. "You ask so much about me. What are your interests besides painting and reading thriller novels?"

y/n laughs. "Watching thriller movies." Harry rolls his eyes, and she grins. "Okay. Um..I don't really know, I don't get time Harry."

"You should explore yourself some more.", he mumbles.

"Oh? Says Mr. Always Busy Doctor."

He shrugs, and y/n looks at her phone as it rings. It was her Uncle Luke.

"Sorry, gotta take this.", she excuses herself, and Harry nods, twirling the pasta around his fork. 

"Uncle Luke?", y/n answers, and hears panting on the other line. "W-Where am I?"

She keeps her fork down, fear creeping up. "You're at home, Uncle Luke, everything okay? Did you go out somewhere?"

"y/n..w-where are you?", her uncle's voice came out in a whimper and she stands up immediately. Harry looks at her with a frown. 

"I'm at a friend's house, I'll come over now, okay? Don't worry, you're at home. Look around, what do you see?", she replies calmly, even though she was freaking out.

"S-Stairs..p-pictures on the walls. Of us."

y/n sighs in relief. He is at home. "Yes, it's safe, Uncle Luke. You're at home, okay? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Come soon..sweetheart.", he whispered, and y/n feels her heart break at his small voice. "I will. I love you."

She stuffs her phone into her pocket and looks at Harry. "I'm sorry I have to go, my uncle needs me."

"I'll come with you.", Harry was already putting away their plates.

"No, Harry, it's okay..my place is small and it's a mess and..you don't wanna be there.", y/n says embarrassed.

"y/n, I didn't always have a flat like this. I used to live on the streets for a few months. Then someone who said they know me came and told me that I'm a Doctor. I managed to get my license back, and everything worked out. I know what it's like, okay?" Harry squeezes her shoulder gently.

y/n quickly stored in her brain the information he had shared. Then she felt bad. He told her because he thought she was his friend.

"Okay, come with me.", she agrees. Harry and y/n leave Zach's flat, and it's a twenty minute drive to y/n's place.

"Your uncle..", Harry drawls, waiting for her to complete.

"Alzheimer's.", she answers, and Harry nods understanding. They didn't talk on the way. y/n was worried, and Harry wasn't used to starting conversations.

When she got home, y/n runs to her Uncle who was sitting at the end of the stairs. "D-Did you fall?", she gasps, seeing him clutch his foot like he was in pain.

"Y-Yes.", Uncle Luke nods, arms leaning to pull his niece into a hug. "y/n. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Uncle, shh..", y/n assures, holding him tight and feeling guilty. She had left him alone and he fell. "Y-You didn't fall down all the stairs, did you?"

"No I tripped on the last few.", he answers. "I think my balance is off. I'm okay I think..I just needed to see you."

y/n nods, kissing his cheek. "It's okay, I told you that you can always call me. I'm glad you did." She looks over him to see if he was injured.

"W-Who's this young man?", Uncle Luke looks up at Harry who was silently watching their exchange.

"He's Harry, I told you about him, remember?"

y/n looks back at Harry, who was looking at her uncle with an expression she couldn't read. Uncle Luke nods at him. "Sorry our first meeting is like this."

"I don't mind.", Harry leans down to help him stand up. y/n took one arm and Harry the other, Uncle Luke was brought back on his feet. 

"Does your ankle hurt?", y/n notices as he winces, and he nods. 

"I can take a look.", Harry says. "Let's get him to bed."

They got Uncle Luke back to his room, and y/n makes him drink some water. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and his fingertips ran over Uncle Luke's ankle as he examined it. Harry did his prodding, checked the movement on the ankle, and observed that there was no swelling, but a purplish bruise forming. He did not feel any broken bones.

"It's a small sprain.", he tells them. "You have a crepe bandage, y/n?It should be there in a first aid kit."

"I think so, let me see.", y/n says, and goes to the cupboard near the sink where she keeps basic first aid. 

Uncle Luke stares at Harry, making sure his niece is gone, before spitting out, "What are you doing with y/n?"

"We're friends.", Harry answers patiently, although he did not like the tone Uncle Luke spoke in.

"Don't you dare get close to my niece. I know all about you, Harry Styles.", Uncle Luke uses his full name, and Harry did not even know that that was his full name. He's used to people coming up to him and calling him that, then they threaten him and go away. 

"Do tell me, cause I don't remember.", Harry says, and Uncle Luke grabs his collar with an iron grip. A weak man like him shouldn't be this strong, Harry notes. 

"You think you're smart, don't you? Doctor Turner, huh? We're just waiting for the right time. You killed my family. I will watch you being burned down to the ground, Styles."

"What the hell are you talking about?", Harry exclaims, trying to get his hand off of him. 

"Oh my god. Uncle Luke, stop!", y/n rushes over, and Uncle Luke lets him go, his face full of hatred and anger. "I'm so sorry Harry!", she says to him apologetically.

"It's okay.", Harry tells her, staring at her uncle. "Illness does it."

y/n nods, rubbing her Uncle's arms, calming him down. "I'm here, Uncle. Harry's my friend, it's okay."

He didn't answer, just kept looking at Harry as he wrapped his injured ankle up. "Keep it elevated, ice pack on and off. It should be fine in two days.", he said when he was done, and left the room.

"I'll be right back.", y/n tells her uncle, before running behind Harry.

"Harry!"

Harry pauses near the door. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into him.", y/n grabs his hand to stop him from storming out. Harry nods, a little shaken up with what her uncle had said. You killed my family.

Harry was a Doctor. He saved people, he didn't kill them. He knew her uncle was sick, but the fire in his eyes when he looked at him? He couldn't shake it away.

"He's turning delusional, I'll make an appointment with his doctor for tomorrow.", y/n shakes her head, stressed about what to do. Harry thought she had too much of stress in her life. He could see the dark circles under her eyes due to the lack of sleep. He wanted to ask her about it, but now wasn't the time.

"I-I have to go, y/n", Harry tells her, and y/n nods, standing on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for your help. You're a good man, Harry."

Was he? 

Harry's fingers went to his cheek where she had kissed him as he stepped outside the door. Her touch made him feel less anxious. He hoped it would leave him calm enough to get some sleep tonight. His thoughts shifted to the girl who came into his life just a week ago. She was perfect. He had a chance to make things different from last time. 

After all, she's his to ruin, isn't she?

[chatonnoir]

are you excited for s6 tho

Not interested in seeing plot lines - that by all accounts should have had payoff and resolved this season - be artificially extended for the painfully obvious purpose of maintaining viewer interest (aka $$$) in seasons 6 onwards because the writers are too insecure in their own creation to have faith in people just being invested in the characters and world and wanting to see them go on new personal journeys and instead are relying on rinsing and repeating and dragging out the same old drama that has become their crutch. Not interested in watching Adrienette tragically speedrun becoming the worst relationship of the lovesquare and a joke of a romance and a mountain of wasted potential while Adrienette fangirls insist that its soooo sweet and well done and not at all asinine writing because they're happy they got their self-insert wish-fulfillment Harry Styles x Reader fanfic plotline. Said Adrienette fangirls will repeatedly say "OBVIOUSLY its was ALWAYS going to play out like this if you ACTUALLY paid attention, ur just mad it wasn't ur ship 💅😌" any time someone complains even a little about it but for those of us that did actually pay attention to the themes and progression, knowing that season 5 was always said to be the series finale and the end of the hawkmoth plot and the end of astruc's original story for Miraculous Ladybug before the series was slated for more seasons, and knowing there are even people who said they were planning to stop watching after season 5 because they only want to see the original storyline through to its end, season 5 as it is now would be a baffling joke of a series finale. It's not fit to be a series finale at all. This season is rushed and disjointed and baffling in how it abandons the themes that were just being emphasized in season 4 and frankly it should be obvious to anyone with half a functioning braincell who watches this season through to its end that this season was not actually oBvIoUsLy ALwAyS intended to be written like this and that things were changed and rewritten for the very purpose of not letting many of its established plot threads payoff and satisfyingly resolve because they need to maintain the forced drama and suspense to maintain their viewerbase. I'm not interested in watching characters and relationships and a story I loved be butchered and watch the same issues that should've resolved already continue to be issues that no characters learn from all for the purpose of keeping this show as a cashcow for another 8 years.

[hlficlibrary]

HL FIC LIBRARY - AUTHOR REC

AO3:  HelloAmHere

Tumblr: @helloamhere

STATS:

📚 Number of Fics: 25

📚 Posting since: 2017

TOP 5 FICS:

📚 Etched in Salt (is a cathedral of the world) [E, 25k]

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

📚 Saving Symphony Hall [E, 137k]

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

📚 Make Your Words A Weapon [E, 36k]

There’s no single path forward from the connection, no truth other than the truth that the person whose words you carry is out there, an undefined something that you’re going to have to deal with.

In whatever way you can possibly deal with meeting the stranger who's always been there, and always been missing.

OR: Louis is a music critic, Harry is a rockstar, soulmates are destiny but no one ever said destiny was easy, music is everything.

📚 Lambing Season [E, 24k]

“Shut up,” Louis says, an involuntary grin tugging at his mouth. It’s not every boy who will stand in the middle of a cold barn in a suit and play musician trivia. “I’m Louis.”

//lambing season brings sleep deprivation, noisy alarms, cold barns, demanding animals, and warm strangers.

📚 The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson [T, 31k]

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said

OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

UNDERAPPRECIATED GEM:

📚 This Multiplicity of Powers [E, 149k]

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

[payasamlover]

Kalyanam

Summary: Harry and yn's wedding.

Word count : 1.6k

Pairing: Harry styles x desi!yn

A/N: hey everyone it's my first time writing anything like I'm new to Tumblr. Please treat me with kindness. India is a diverse country where the culture and the traditions vary from place to place. I'm from Kerala South India and I'm writing this fic from my idea of a wedding around here . This is not how every Indian wedding happens . lm not generalising about Indian weddings. I've seen a lot of desi wedding fics on Tumblr but never a south Indian based fic. So here I am writing my first and foremost fanfiction . And also can we just pretend everything is okay between 1d members after hiatus

Warning:MINORS DNI, 18+, Contain smut

Terms :

1.Nethi chutti :A Nethi Chutti is a bridal accessory that every South Indian bride dons for her wedding! It is similar to a maang tikka or a matha patti and comes in different styles, materials and even colours

2.Mehndi:Mehndi is a form of body art and temporary skin decoration from the Indian subcontinent usually drawn on hands or legs, in which decorative designs are created on a person's body, using a paste, created from the powdered dry leaves of the henna plant. Henna was first applied as a means to cool down the body.

3. Saree:A sari is a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent

4.Thaalam: the thaalam is a plate that has flowers, a brass lamp, a fan made of ivory and gold cloth and in some communities even a small bowl of Adenanthera Pavonina seeds which is supposed to signify luck.

5.Kalyana Mandapam: temporary platform set up for weddings and religious ceremonies

6.moné: it's like a nick name meaning dear

7.Thali: A mangala sutra or thaali , is a necklace that the groom ties around the bride's neck in the Indian subcontinent, in a ceremony called Mangalya Dharanam (Sanskrit for '"wearing the auspicious"'). The necklace serves as a visual marker of status as a married Hindu woman

8. Sindoor/Sindooram:is a traditional vermilion red or orange-red coloured cosmetic powder from the Indian subcontinent, usually worn by married women along the part of their hairline

To say that Harry was not nervous was an understatement boy he was shaking in his boots. it has nothing but the fact that he is getting married to the love of his life in the next few hours and that's the main reason why he is so stressed out. Harry is getting ready for a life with someone he loves.

The wedding is small and intimate which is contrary to usual Indian weddings which are supposed to be luxurious and grand. But yn wanted it to be minimal you know just to celebrate her and harry's union of life. 

Harry can't help but think about what could go wrong. While he was in his bubble of anxiousness and zealously when he got a text message.

Ynn

Hey H I'm so excited for us. can't wait to see you, my love. I have a surprise for u later. See you in a couple of hours! - X

Harry grinned at the message. Yn always makes time for him no matter where they are in their relationship. Even when he's busy or she's away from him. She never complains about how long it takes him to reply no matter what. Harry loved Yn with every ounce of his body no matter what. He embraced her South Asian roots from the beginning of their relationship. Yn takes very much pride in her South Asian culture and heritage and made it clear from the day they met that she would never forget her roots. Yn's family is from South India so they're having a traditional South Indian Hindu wedding. 

:readmore:

Harry was dressed in a traditional dhoti and shirt. His hands were adorned with a couple of rings along with his engagement ring. He had a couple of gold chains hanging around his neck. He felt suspenseful and this feeling of bliss couldn't be explained. He was going to get married after all. To be honest he couldn't wait to get married. Harry looked down at his hand remembering the day they met. How he first laid eyes on the gorgeous woman before him. Harry sighed and looked at himself in the mirror. There weren't many people around him. The venue was crowded but not overly so. They needed a private wedding.

He thought back to all those years ago and wondered how he ever found the courage to ask her out. He remembered that night like it was yesterday. They were on their first date and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"You look beautiful," Harry whispered into her ear. Harry's voice was gentle and husky and YN felt butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"Thank you. I know you don't mean that." Yn teased causing Harry to chuckle.

"You're right ".This made yn to snort and she looked at him closely and thought to herself how lucky she is to have someone who cares deeply about her well being. She loved harry to death.

While he was reminiscing their nostalgia there was a knock on the door. Suddenly Harry's mom and his sister Gemma appeared in his room. Seeing her son in his wedding outfit tears started welling up in her eyes and she thought of the little boy clinging to her on his first day of school. "Haz you look so handsome! Oh, my baby c'mere". She embraced him with her warmth. "I'm so happy for you. Yn is the best person anyone could ask for. I'm really happy that you guys found each other." She wiped away the tears that were flowing down her face. She kissed him one last time. Gemma turned to him whose eyes were welled with tears. "You got this Harry. You guys are perfect for each other. You both complete each other. No matter what happens you'll always be my baby brother who fought for the last piece of pizza". He chuckled at her words. " Thank you so much for everything. You both are the most important people in the world to me besides YN. Thank you for making me the man I am today. I'm grateful for everything you guys have done for me". Then suddenly Niall walked in "Mate its time let's go get you married ".

"Mom we need to go downstairs now," Harry said smiling at his mother and sister who nodded in response. Then he walked out the door followed by Gemma Niall and Anne.

When he arrived downstairs he was awaited by his former bandmates Zayn Liam and Louis who were his groomsman They hugged each other.

"Congratulations on your wedding you loser! You look stunning," Louis commented as they broke apart. "Thanks, Louis I look dashing as always," Harry replied teasingly and smiled. Zayn laughed at them and nudged Niall. It's so crazy to see all the 5 lads after so many years like three of them have children and one of them is getting married to the love of his life. No one would believe this 10 years ago. It's just crazy how night changes everything. He walked to the ceremony waiting patiently for his lovie.

Yn was doing better than she imagined. She was calm and collected. Her dark long luscious hair was braided and jasmine flowers were adorned on her hair along with the Nettichutti and the outfit she chose to wear made her look divine. She was wearing a fierce red saree which embarked her fire within. Her mehndi was done on her hands and legs. Gold jewellery adorned her body and bangles decorated her wrists. Her skin glittered and her lips curled into an angelic smile. The saree accentuated the curves of her voluptuous body. Yn wore strapless heels and a pair of gold jewelled anklets on her ankles.She knew she looked stunning. Not only because she was planning to marry the man she loved but also because she was getting married in her homeland Kerala. She felt proud of herself and loved her husband for coming up with such a wonderful idea. Harry did everything for her and if he didn't love her she wouldn't have gone through this hellish ordeal. All of her bridesmaids entered the room with thaalam in hand. Her sister took her hand and handed her the thaalam. All the bridesmaids were wearing cute pastel saree with minimal gold jewellery and minimal jasmine flowers on their heads. 

.

"I am," she said while giving her father a reassuring nod. They all started walking up to the Kalyana Mandapam. As soon as Harry saw her he fell in love with her again. When she approached the mandapam a tear rolled down her cheek. This is something so important she couldn't contain her emotions.

"You look ravishing " Harry couldn't help but gush. She giggled and said, " so do you, babe". Pujari(Hindu priest) started chanting the mantras in front of Agni and started doing the rituals. Harry's gaze met hers and they locked gazes for only a second before he turned away with a soft smile on his face. Then the priest handed him the thali. He tied the first and second knot then Gemma tied the third. They exchanged the flower garlands. After that, he was handed the sindoor and he took a pinch of sindoor and he put some on her forehead and she, in turn, took the sindoor and did the same thing to harry on his forehead breaking the tradition and making a new one for them and they walked around the Agni seven times to establish the onset of their marriage.

{During the Saath Phere, the bride and the groom, circumambulate (walk around) the sacred fire seven times as they exchange their marital vows. The fire here becomes the witness (Agni Sakshi) as they make promises to each other.}

After the rituals, Harry went to grab Yn's arm and kiss her on the forehead. She looked up at him and gave a watery smile. Harry pulled her closer and held her tightly. This moment was meant for them.

After the ceremony, everyone took a picture to celebrate their marriage and the engagement.

"I still can't believe you got married!" exclaimed Niall. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we've established that Niall. Now leave us alone."  Harry said in a sassy tone. The boys and the bride walked together towards the reception hall to have a hearty meal and enjoy

Harry sat next to her enjoying the food. He kept stealing glances at his beautiful bride while eating. He kept seeing her biting her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling. "I cannot wait to take this saree off you ." He whispered in her ear making her blush slightly. After finishing their meal Yn excused herself and headed to the dressing rooms to change. She slipped on her dress and tied the strings of her sari. When she turned around Harry's eyes immediately lit up when he saw her. "Wow..."  He muttered looking at her. "you look incredible". She blushed at his words.

"Shall we?" she said softly. Harry nodded then he stood up and extended his arm for her to hold onto while they stepped outside.  He led her across the grounds towards his car.Harry opened the passenger door for her and helped her inside. He shut the door before taking his seat beside her. He took a deep breath and leaned over toward Yn. Their noses touched and he closed the gap connecting their lips. Her soft pink tongue licked his plump lips making them taste sweet.

After the kiss ended, Harry opened his mouth to say something but Yn silenced him by placing her finger on his lips. She gently stroked the side of his face before leaning down to peck him on the lips once more.

Yn wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer while deepening the kiss. Harry grabbed her waist and tugged her against him. Their tongues danced and their chests rose and fall simultaneously. Yn broke the kiss and rested her head on his chest. She felt like her entire body was filled with adrenaline and happiness.

As far as Harry was concerned she was the most beautiful girl in the universe. It was hard not to stare at her. He adored her. There were no words to describe what he felt or how he felt about her. He was about to deepen the kiss when heard banging on the glass of Yn's window which startled them both. "Oi quit making out in the car you divs same some for your honeymoon" Louis exclaimed. They both looked at each other and laughed. "What did he say? Did you hear I wasn't paying attention?" Yn inquired. Harry chuckled. "Yeah I heard he said he doesn't want to be a third wheel to two lovebirds"

"Oh shut it, Louis" she replied playfully. Louis rolled his eyes and left the parking lot. She cupped Harry's jaw in her palms and kissed his lips once more. He responded passionately and deepened the kiss. They parted reluctantly. Yn looked lovingly at him " I missed you so much, Harry.."

He cupped her face in his hands and gazed fondly at her "Me too." "You have no idea how what torture was not seeing you or holding you or kissing you or being near you for the whole day". But now finally having you all to myself is the best thing ever. She nipped his ear and Harry lets out a low husky sound that she loves. He slowly placed her in the backseat of his car and pulled her skirt upwards showing her thigh. Harry sucked on her inner thigh making her gasp loudly and grab a fistful of his short brown curls. He continued sucking on her and slowly slid the lace of her panties down exposing her wet centre." I couldn't t control myself when I saw you in that saree," Harry mumbled between kisses making her shiver at the intimate way he talked to her. "Please Harry" she breathed out desperately. He then lifted himself off her and took off his pants, leaving her with nothing but her thali and bra on. He traced his hands around the mehndi that adorned her hands and went up to her upper thighs and trailed kisses up her stomach to her breasts. Her breathing was heavy and uneven.

"Fuck me you are so stunning, baby "

he mumbled as he caressed her tits tenderly.

Yn whimpered under his ministrations. "I need you, Harry.." Harry smirked when she said his name like that. . He lifted himself so he could get a better angle. He positioned himself between her parted legs and pushed himself inside her slowly." Look me in the eyes babe" he demanded. Yn complied and stared straight into his eyes.

Harry moved his hips and began grinding against Yn making her moan. She felt herself reaching climax. He removed the rest of her clothing and joined his lips with hers while he rubbed himself against her. Yn bit her lower lip whilst wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. With his, he started rubbing her clit and she let out a muffled gasp. He continued moving his hips in slow motion causing her to arch her back into his thrusts. She felt his erection pushing her walls apart. Yn moaned lowly and gripped harder onto his hair.

Suddenly, he stopped pressing against her and she was confused. Harry's lips were pressed against her neck when he spoke. " Look at my face" he ordered her. She obeyed. "When I feel you close like this I know that you are going to cum" he murmured into her ear while placing kisses on her neck. Yn let out a loud gasp and arched her back even harder into him, her hips starting to thrust into his. Harry placed his hands on either side of her head.

"Look at me while you come for me baby" Harry whispered before plunging himself deeply into her. Yn clenched around him in pure bliss, the feeling of her walls tightening around his dick was amazing. Harry could feel his climax approaching him ."Come on Harry cum for me " I know you're close let go for me yes " he continued thrusting in her with his hips while his voice deepened. Yn came screaming his name along with his name. They didn't break eye contact as Yn orgasmed and collapsed on Harry.

Once Yn had caught her breath she looked at him. Harry smiled down at her and caressed her face. He helped her get dressed and removed her makeup. "I can't believe we fucked in the car what the hell". Harry said laughing. Yn slapped his shoulder jokingly.

The sun was setting when they returned to their room, the couple snuggled up into their bed and fell asleep instantly.

This is how I imagined their outfits to be

A/n: this was my first time writing anything . if you like this please reblog and follow my channel i would appreciate it very much thank you.

[allwaswell16]

This is a fic rec of One Direction fics where Louis is powerful as requested in this ask. You can find all my other fic recs here. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! Happy reading!

-Larry-

⚜️ the unfinished game (series) by @bottomlinsons

(M, 240k, royal au, historical, arranged marriage, Prince Harry, Prince Louis, enemies to friends to lovers, love letters, betrayal, political intrigue, war, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, engagement, wedding)

With his crown and country at stake, Harry must decide who to trust in this strange new land. And the sly Crown Prince of Ryde doesn’t seem inclined to make things easy.

⚜️ Light, Spark and Fire (series) by @greenfeelings / green_feelings

(E, 216k, Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam, a/b/o, alpha Louis, omega Harry, alpha Liam, omega Zayn, music industry, music mogul Louis, uni student Harry, singer Harry, music mogul Zayn, pop star Liam, pining, angst, slow burn, true mates, omega drop, bonding, break up, getting back together, songwriting, smut)

Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

⚜️ This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere

(E, 149k, Louis/Harry, X-Men au, superheros, superpowers, mutants, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, healing, courage, slow burn, teacher Louis, politics, found family)

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside. But this isn’t that universe. //an X-Men AU.

⚜️ There’s Such a Lot of World to See by @crinkle-eyed-boo​

(E, 125k, Dr Who au, Louis is Dr Who, Impossible Girl arc, science fiction, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, time travel, action, suspense, death, aliens)

A love story that defies the boundaries of space and time. Doctor Who AU.

⚜️ After Dark, After Light by @becomeawendybird / QuickedWeen

(E, 71k, historical au, medieval, Scotland, Scottish Highlander, commander Louis, laird Harry, secret relationship, self discovery, sexual tension, light angst, smut, light bondage)

Louis Tomlinson is the mysterious commander of the Sutherland army sent back with Harry on orders from his laird to help shore up Clan Edwards' defenses.

⚜️ Unveiled by phdmama / @phd-mama

(M, 60k, a/b/o, omega Harry, royal au, King Louis, Prince Harry, magic, fantasy, worldbuilding)

There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.

⚜️ No Hold to Hold Onto by @kingsofeverything

(E, 47k, cowboys au, historical, Wild West, guns, rodeos, injury, farmer Louis, horses, loss of virginity, smut)

Injured after being thrown from a bronc, Harry doesn’t know if he’ll ever compete again. His only hope is a man called Tommo, a world champion rider who retired at the top of his game.

⚜️ Something Just Like This, @icanhazzalou​ / kiwikero

(E, 31k, superpowers au, superhero Louis, journalist Harry, London, action, mpreg, newspapers, angst, fluff, smut)

Newspaper intern Harry Styles can't believe his luck when he goes from fetching coffee for his boss to writing about London's own superheroes, One Direction.

⚜️ Unraveled by @allwaswell16

(E, 18k, prime minister Louis, bodyguard Harry, violence, political intrigue, older Louis, older Harry, secret relationship, closeted Louis, sex club, smut)

They had reason to believe that Prime Minister Louis Tomlinson might be in danger, and they’d like Harry to act as his personal protection.

⚜️ The Importance of being Earnest by @louloubabys1992​ / louloubaby92

(NR, 16k, coffee shop au, barista Harry, customer Louis, rich Louis, pining, getting together, insecure Harry, light angst, fluff)

Harry is a barista who's been harboring a crush on Louis for months.

⚜️ Meet Me On The Forest Floor by @taggiecb

(M, 15k, fallen angel au, angel Louis, forestry officer Harry, Canada, friends to lovers, emotional, hurt/comfort, secrets, this is such a beautiful fic with gorgeous writing)

Louis is an angel, and one day he does something that causes him to fall from heaven, and into the arms of Harry Styles, forestry officer, who cares for him until Louis can get back on his feet again.

⚜️ The Sleeping Giant by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 3k, historical fantasy au, magic, fairy tale elements, soldier Harry, giant Louis)

In the centre of the pond, there is a sleeping giant.

-Rare Pairs-

⚜️ Fistiana by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld

(NR, 2k, Zayn/Louis, boxing au, underground boxing ring, boxer Zayn, boxer Louis, homoeroticism, small town, strangers)

They met in the center of the ring and bumped their bare knuckles together.

⚜️ think i'm gonna win this time by 1000_directions / @1000-directions

(T, 1k, Zayn/Louis, Captain America Louis, Bucky Barnes Zayn, superheroes)

The army told Louis that he was a figurehead, just a symbol, and so Louis became a warrior in spite of them.

[leehestia]

Upcoming works for Astro:

Notes from Author: I mostly make stories based on songs or whatever drama or movie I watch, and some of these won’t be released if I read it again to check and find out that it’s really horrible or cringe so please don’t have high expectations 😭😭😭

- Kim Myungjun / MJ

None yet

- Park Jinwoo / Jinjin

1. Luxurious Love || Rich husband!Jinjin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Synopsis: Park Jinwoo, one of the richest CEO's in South Korea. You're his wife, a humble middle-class woman who is still adapting to this 'rich' environment. You and Jinwoo argue about it, until you finally understand him and you both apologize through words and pleasure.

Notes: Based on “Luxurious” by Gwen Stefani

- Lee Dongmin / Cha Eunwoo

1. It Was Always Her || Toxic boyfriend!eunwoo x reader

Genre: Angst, A little Fluff, Suggestive

Synopsis: You know you're being used, you hated it. But you'd do anything to be with him. You know you're not the one he loves. You know that you just remind him of her. You can't help but let him use you for his comfort. You love him, but he doesn't love you.

Notes: Based on “Glimpse of Us” by Joji

2. The Depth of the Crazy Sea || Stalker!eunwoo x Idol!Oc (Han Hyeseung)

Genre: Angst, Suspense, Yandere

Synopsis: Love is truly unexpected. Who would have thought that your beloved is just like you? Good-looking, rich, popular, crazy, horrific, and most importantly, in love with you. Love can never be predicted. If obsession towards someone is what you call love, then can you really call that… love? Cha Eunwoo, passionate trainee by day and an obsessed stalker by night. Han Hyeseung, a popular idol loved by many who has everything all except love. Under one company, both were casted as the main characters for an upcoming drama, The Depth of the Crazy Sea.

An opportunity for both people to find out more about each other. But what if they already know each other? To be exact, one already knows way too much about the other. Too many things even the other doesn’t know about themselves.

This is what they call love. But if stalking and obsessing towards someone is their own love, can you really call that love? No one knows. After all, no one knows the depth of a crazy sea.

Notes: Me and my friend made this for our creative writing class and it’s in short chapters. Btw if the writing style is so much better than my solo works, it’s bc my friend is 100x better in story writing.

- Moon Bin / Moonbin

1. A random moonbin story lol (I don’t have a name yet 💀💀) || husband!moonbin x wife!reader

Genre: Arranged marriage, smut, angst, fluff

Synopsis: idk yet but basically y’all got arranged marriage and moonbin lieks it but u dont etc etc and u think moonbin is dangerous af.

Notes: I didn’t really prioritize it bc it’s just a random story I made in school out of boredom 😭😭😭

- Park Minhyuk / Rocky

None yet

- Yoon Sanha / Sanha

1. To Be King || Prince!Sanha x Princess!Reader ft. knight!Rocky

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Synopsis: You and the prince from the neighboring land make an agreement to get married so that you may escape the dreadful palace life you both live. Sanha, being completely in love with you, takes advantage of your marriage to build a relationship with you. Rocky, your ex-boyfriend tries to steal you back by creating misinformation about Sanha’s love for you.

Notes: Plot by my cousin @leedongmen 😻😻🫶🫶

2. “You’re too fast!” || hufflepuff!Sanha x gryffindor!Reader

Genre: Hogwarts!au, Fluff, Sports, Humor

Synopsis: Popular quidditch player, Y/N, goes against a weak quidditch player, Sanha, and teaches him how to properly play despite the risk of getting caught.

Notes: idk bro just came up in my head after rewatching harry potter