#Harry has the flu

[hsfan94]

Glitch

2.7k words

Y/n flew out to LA the moment Harry postponed the show Friday. She had talked to him Wednesday and noticed that he sounded off. She had told him then and there she wanted to fly out. He brushed her off, saying he was fine. But when Jeff texted her an update, upon her request, she bought a ticket for the first flight out.

Y/n and Harry had been friends for a few years now. They met when she was eighteen and he was twenty-five. They were just friends. Y/n loved him so much but she knew being younger than him that he’d never feel the same. In other words she wasn’t his type. But being in the friend zone wouldn’t stop her from taking care of him. One thing she knew about her Harry was that he would work even when he shouldn’t. He wasn’t great at taking care of himself. She knew if she didn’t come, he would be sick forever.

“Y/n, you didn’t have to come.” He opened his door wrapped in the thick fuzzy blanket she had bought him last Christmas. He looked miserable. He had puffy bags under his eyes and his nose had been rubbed red from excessive tissue use. But he still took her breath away.

“Don’t be silly, Haz. We both know you aren’t going to care for yourself properly.” Y/n also had a feeling his girlfriend would be useless as well.

“I’m the older one you know?” He had let her in and they were walking to his living room.

“That’s why it’s so sad.” She chuckled at his shocked expression. “Now have a seat and let me get to work.”

He sat down on the couch and she went straight for the kitchen to set out the stuff she had brought. It was an array of medicines, soups, juices and a thermometer. She made quick work of getting some medicine and a glass of water and returned to the living room.

“Now, have you taken anything today?” She wasn’t surprised when he shook his head. “Didn’t think so. Here.” She practically shoved the pills and water into his hands.

After he chugged the whole glass she repositioned him so he was laying down.

“You will stay right here. If you need anything, it’s my job to get it. I’ll stay right here.” She motioned to the other end of the massive sectional.

He smirked at her. “What if I have to use the bathroom?”

She rolled her eyes. “Then you go. But other than that stay put. Now,” she leaned forward and picked up the remote, “do you have anything you want to watch?”

They watched half of the Notebook before he was nodding off. Y/n watched him sleep. Her mind wandered to when they first met. She was fond of him back then but he seemed to see her as a sibling.

“I just don’t understand why he married Cameron Diaz when he’s been in love with Julia Roberts the whole time.” Harry had never seen ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ and Y/n thought his frustration was both valid and adorable.

“Because she missed her chance. Her fear of commitment and assumption that he’d wait forever drove him away.”

“But he marries someone so much younger. It’s impractical.” He shook his head.

“Why.” Y/n felt uneasy at his words.

“Because you can’t possibly have enough in common.” It was like he had seen her face fall so he backtracked. “It just doesn’t work. I can’t explain it.”

“I don’t think age is a big deal. If you love someone you love them, you know? Who cares what year they were born?”

They had sat in silence after that. That was over two years ago and as she watched him sleep, she wondered if he had changed his mind. She certainly thought so because his girlfriend was so much older. She brushed those thoughts away and fell asleep herself.

——————————-

Y/n had not seen Olivia since she got there. She had been relieved at first because the thought of Harry with anyone made her stomach turn, but the more she thought about her absence the more it pissed her off. It had been over twenty-four hours. She arrived Thursday afternoon and it was now Saturday morning. Who doesn’t check in on their sick partner every once in a while? She was also confused because she thought they lived together.

She had been taking good care of Harry but she had also been helping him decide what to do about the next few shows. He had a doctor's appointment later and she told him they didn’t have to make any final decisions until then. She had already been in contact with Jeff to tell him it wasn’t looking good and he got to work on backup plans.

Harry was really beating himself up for still feeling bad and it hurt her to see him be so hard on himself.

“Harry, you’re sick. It happens to everyone and it’s completely out of your control.”

“I’m going to disappoint everyone. So many fans have spent so much money to be in LA this weekend. I don’t want them to be mad.”

“If they care about you, they won’t be. They’ll understand. And even if they don’t, that’s not your problem.”

“It is. They’ll never trust me again. They’ll stop coming to the shows.”

Y/n sighed heavily. She didn’t care about his fans’ feelings right now. She cares about the person she loved most in the world and how he was considering playing a show when he looked, felt and sounded like death.

“Harry. You don’t owe anyone anything. And while I understand you need fans to come so you can keep doing it, you won’t be able to keep doing it if you don’t let yourself rest and get better. And I don’t want to be a hard ass but I will if I have to.”

He went silent.

“You’re right. We should just wait for the doctor,” he said after a moment.

She was so frustrated he wouldn’t listen to her but she was relieved because the doctor would say the same thing she did.

And sure enough they left the doctor with a prescription for medicine and an order to reschedule the next three shows. So with a heavy heart Harry made a statement on his story and rescheduled them to January.

“This is the right thing, Harry, I promise,” she said as they walked through his front door once again.

This time she entered his house, his girlfriend was standing in the entryway dressed in an evening gown (an unflattering one of you asked Y/n).

“Oh. You’re back.” Olivia just barely acknowledged Harry and Y/n as she passed them. “I’m going to the LACMA art and film gala.” She barely gave them time to respond before hurrying out the door.

It took everything in her power not to lose her shit over that. If Y/n’s partner was sick, the last thing she would do would be to go to some event. She didn’t want to voice her frustration because she didn’t want to get into it with Harry while he was sick. They’d had this fight a few times since he had been with Olivia. It always started with Y/n telling him he could do so much better and ended with him telling her to mind her own business. The need to keep peace with Harry wasn’t enough to stop her from voicing her frustration to Olivia that night.

Harry had fallen asleep again after Y/n had fed him soup and medicine and put another movie on for him. Y/n had gone into the kitchen to make herself some dinner and Olivia sauntered in. She acted surprised Y/n was still there and that caused her to snap.

“You’re still here?” It was laced with disgust.

“Yeah. You’re certainly not here to take care of him. And I’ve known him for three years, he’s not going to take care of himself. So that leaves me.”

“Honey, you’re so pathetic.” Y/n tensed at her words.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s not going to ever see you as more than a friend. You being a nurse won’t change his mind.”

“For your information, I don’t care if he sees me as more. I care about him. I want him to get better because of that. That’s what real love is. Putting someone you love before anything else.” Y/n shot the words at her like they were darts laced with venom.

“What do you know, huh? From what I remember you’ve never been in a relationship.”

“That’s because I know what I want and I don’t plan to waste my time on something that’s not it.” Y/n felt the need to defend herself even though she knew Olivia’s experience wasn't much better considering two of her serious relationships had ended.

“Right. You want my boyfriend.”

Harry had woken up upon hearing voices in the kitchen. He couldn’t help himself but to get up so he could hear better. When he heard their conversation fully he was stunned by a few things. One being the way his girlfriend spoke to his friend and two being the fact that Y/n was in love with him. Sure he thought she overdid it on the friendship stuff sometimes but he still hadn’t ever considered it could be that she loved him. He had felt differently towards her the last few days. The way she was so concerned and had been taking such good care of him really made him see her in a new light.

“Get over yourself. You don’t even want him! You’ve been using him. Using him to make your movie successful, using him to get invited to Gucci events, using him for,” she paused, “sex. He’s too into you to see it and I can’t tell him what I think because I don’t want to loose him but I’m fucking done pretending you don’t bother me. So if you-“

She was interrupted by a hand being placed on her shoulder. She turned around to see her Harry standing there wrapped up in his blanket looking at her with wide eyes.

“Harry, I” she said not knowing what to say.

“It’s okay, Y/n. Just go in the living room. Cool off yeah? I’ll handle this.”

His words took her by surprise. She left the kitchen but stayed close by to listen.

“What’s wrong with you?” He said.

“Me? You’re just gonna let that little brat say those things?”

“Enough. Stop talking about her like that, Olivia. She’s right and you know it.”

“I’m sorry?”

She heard Harry sigh deeply. It caused him to cough a bit.

“I’m too exhausted for this. I feel like shit and you have not once bothered to ask me about it. Is that why you were being so hostile? Because she called you out?”

Olivia scoffed.

“No. She’s trying to take you from me.”

“Is she? Because I’ve known her longer than you and she’s never made a move and she’s had plenty of opportunities. Also I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions.”

“Cut the crap. She’s a child. She probably hasn’t even had sex so how would she know how to make a move.”

“She’s the child? Do you hear yourself when you talk?” She didn’t say anything so he went on. “Whatever. I can’t do this anymore. I need you to leave.”

“What?”

“I need you to go. As much as I hate to admit it, Y/n was right and I’m done being blind. I don’t feel good and you being here is making it worse.”

“If I leave tonight, I’m not coming back. We’re done.”

“Fine with me. Just get your stuff and go.”

Y/n could tell the conversation was over so she scurried over to the couch. She felt so many things and it caused her to start crying. She couldn’t help it. She had her head buried in her hands when Harry silently made his way back to the couch.

“Y/n?” He sat down next to her. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was all she could say.

“For what, lovie?” He put his arm around her.

“I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I ended your relationship. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“You did nothing. She ended my relationship. She didn’t trust me and she was being mean to you.” He put his hand on her chin and lifted her face so he could look into her eyes. “I can’t have that.”

Y/n was silent. Tears continued to pour down her face.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?” She didn’t know what he was referring to.

“Do you love me?”

She looked away from him. She didn’t want to answer. After a moment, she nodded ever so subtly.

“How long?” He was now rubbing circles on her back with his hand.

“Pretty much since we met.” It was quiet, almost a mumble.

“Why did you never say anything?”

“Well, I realized it the night we were watching ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’. I looked over at you during a funny part and you had this big smile, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I wanted to tell you how I felt. But then you said that being with someone younger,”

“Would never work.” He finished for her.

“I just figured you’d never see me that way and I’ve been right so far.”

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay. It’s how you feel. Can we just drop it? I'm already way too embarrassed to even look at you.”

Before he could reply, Olivia came down with a suitcase.

“I hope it’s worth it Harry. I hope she’s worth it.”

She didn’t give him an opportunity to respond. She walked out the door and let it slam behind her.

A few moments later she spoke again.

“I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore and if you want me to leave I will.”

She started to stand up but Harry pulled her back to the couch.

“I don't want to be friends anymore. But I definitely don’t want you to leave.”

“What?” She was confused and hurt by his words.

“I think there’s been a glitch.”

She thought he was quoting Taylor Swift but she wanted to be sure.

“Harry, what are you trying to say?”

“I want to be more than friends. These last few days have really opened my eyes to what has been right in front of me.”

A smile crept onto her face.

“Yeah?”

He returned her smile. “Yeah.”

Just then, Harry started to have a full blown coughing attack and it ruined the moment.

“Oh, Baby, it’s time for more medicine.” Y/n stood and walked to the kitchen. When she returned with the cough medicine she was met with a doe-eyed beaming Harry. “What are you so smiley about Mr. I-just-hacked-up-a-lung?”

“You called me baby.”

“Huh. I guess I did.” She brushed over it like it was no big deal and poured him a cup of cough syrup.

He took the shot of cough syrup then said, “I liked it. You should do it all the time now.”

“Okay, baby.” She smiled. “Let’s get you to rest now.”

She gently pushed his shoulders back until he was laying on the couch. She started to back away and return to her end when his hand clasped hers. She gave him a quizzical look. He returned her expression with a cheeky smile and began pulling her onto the couch.

“Want you to lay with me.” He pulled her so she was practically on top of him.

“Okay.” She situated herself so her weight wasn’t all the way on him. She settled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I want to kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick.” His hand began trailing up and down her arm in a soothing manner.

She brought her lips to his neck and gave him a few gentle kisses there.

“It’s okay, baby. We have plenty of time.”

Just before they drifted off to sleep, Harry realized he hadn’t properly returned the sentiment.

“I love you, Y/n.”

Harry had never been happier to have the flu.

[ofcowardiceandkings]

o right so we acquired a 4th cat 👀

[stylesharrys]

love me like you do

summary: harry’s never had someone take care of him the way that y/n does. 

word count: 2,361

a/n: here's another old exclusive guys. there are lots and lots of fics lined up for you for the next couple of months while I work on a 20k realtor!y/n and a 20k ex-boyfriend!harry so enjoy!

//

At first, Harry thought nothing of it.

The honeymoon phase, he told himself. It made sense, it was expected. His past lovers had all been the same during that time — always obsessed and seemingly in love. Seemingly. 

But after a few months, they always started to change. They’d distance themselves first, take a while longer to reply or to get in contact with him. Then, they’d get blunt and annoyed quickly with him. They wouldn’t want him close, wouldn’t shower him in affection. Wouldn’t let him touch them. 

And then, eventually, they’d leave. Maybe on the odd occasion, they’d butter him up and get a little splurge on his card, or go to him just for their release. A few had cheated, some just left. Nothing for Harry has ever lasted past a year and a half, and now it’s nearing the two-year mark and he’s confused. 

Y/N is a lovely woman. She’s kind, funny, smart, gorgeous. Harry thinks her kindness and wit is what attracted him to her in the first place, and in the two years he’s known her, he’s only started to love her more. 

It’s not like he thinks deep down she’s a horrible person, but Harry has grown accustomed to how things typically work in his relationships, and none of the above has yet occurred. 

Currently, he’s lying on his stomach with his face smushed into Y/N’s pillow. She’s straddling his lower back, her bum on his bum and his shirt is long gone as she massages the tender knots out of his shoulders. She’s been doing it for thirty minutes now. Harry’s been watching the clock. 

He’s been feeling a little ill the past few days. Migraine, sore muscles and the occasional fleeting moments of nausea. He lost his appetite and strength pretty quickly and Y/N has been on the ball with it — at his feet with a sick bucket, coddling his head to her chest with a cold compress against his skin. She’s done it all and Harry can’t quite understand it. 

From past experiences of being ill or caught with the flu, the only person to have ever taken proper care of him had been his mother. And now, his lover is doing what past lovers didn’t, and Harry’s confused.

It’s not that Y/N isn’t an overwhelmingly kind and compassionate person, because she is. Her caring and nurturing behaviour is nothing out of the ordinary for Y/N, but Harry has never experienced such care from a romantic partner before. 

It’s like Y/N has forgotten about the gruelling twelve-hour shift she just got home from, but Harry hasn’t ,and although he’s the one that’s sick, she’s the one that’s been on her feet all day. 

“Come on, I’ll do you.” His words come out gruffly, muffled slightly by the pillow that restricts the fluid movements of his lips. He can feel Y/N shake her head from above him. She sinks the balls of her palms into the backs of his shoulders. 

“You need to relax and rest.” She argues, thinks her reasoning will be enough for him not to ask again.

Harry shakes his head and shuffles beneath the weight of her body. Y/N lifts to her knees, allowing him to turn beneath her and onto his back. Harry’s eyes are bleary and sleepy as he blinks to gain his bearings. He stretches for her hips, hands finding them with ease. 

She’s sitting on his lower tummy, dressed in a pair of cycling shorts and one of his old Rolling Stones t-shirts that she changed into the second she got home. There’s dotting of mascara smudged below her eyes and a couple of pimples that are starting to show through the worn, minimal makeup. 

He knows she’s had a long day, could tell the second she got in and pretended that she was okay for his sake. Her hair is tied back low on her neck, stray strands wildly framing her face. She looks tired, burnt out. Harry just wants to look after her. 

“Bad day?” He finally asks. 

Y/N blinks twice and shrugs, head rolling as her shoulders raise and her cheek meets it. “Busy,” she tells him. “Nothing I’m not used to.” 

Harry squints. 

He knows she’s used to it — the long days with early starts and late finishes, the ones without a break in-between, where she doesn’t get to eat, save for a few grapes she manages to steal every now and then. He knows she’s used to it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not exhausting her.

He squeezes her hips gently. “Know you’re used to it, pet. Don’t make it any easier, though.”

She doesn’t say anything. Her hands are on his, encouraging them to sneak up her shirt to feel her skin. She’s warm, soft. Y/N pouts down at him. “Want a kiss.” She says, eyes glassy with affectionate need. 

Harry copies her expression, reaching up to caress the side of her face. “Can’t let ya get sick, babe. Why don’t you let me run you a bath and you can relax?” He offers, eyes gentle and she lets hers flitter closed for a moment, like she’s pondering over her answer. 

She shakes her head. 

“You’re the sick one. I’m going to run you a bath, and then I’m going to make you some soup for your throat. Know it’s still been hurting you.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything — knows that whatever he argues, she’ll bite back better. His body sinks into the sheets, head in the pillow as a heavy huff of annoyance and adoration slips from his mouth. 

//

When Y/N said she’d run him a bath, Harry didn’t expect it to be overflowing with bubbles or for every possible available surface to be littered in glowing candles. But the bathroom wasdecorated with such and Harry was overcome with an overwhelming amount of love for his girl. 

She let him take his time in there, relaxing and soothing his muscles while she cooked up some magic for his throat. Getting out of the bath, Harry most definitely does not expect to wander into the kitchen to see what he does. 

Y/N behind the stove, dishing up the soup with two fresh rolls from the bakery a mile from them. She’s got the lights dim for him — knows they’re hurting his head — and there are more candles around the living room. 

The coffee table is littered with them mostly, Netflix is up and ready on the TV and as he looks to the sofa, he notices she got out her favourite blanket — the soft one that Harry swears is made from angel wings. 

And he looks at her, starry-eyed and all. She’s got a gentle smile on her lips when she notices his presence and Harry is fucked. 

He can’t stop the rush of emotion that consumes him. His eyes turn glassy, nose tingling and heart aching. Harry reckons he’s easily the most loved man in the world and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

He can’t help the single tear that slips down his face but he wipes it before she notices. 

Harry approaches her, arms wrapping around the middle of his love and he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. “Thank you, for all of this. Love you so much.” He rasps into her skin. 

He can feel her body warm against his touch and she smiles, rashes down to hold her hand over his. “Love you loads, too. And you haven’t got to thank me, this is just what you do when you love someone.”

When you love someone. 

She shrugs her own words off like they’re the most obvious thing she’s ever said, but Harry can’t stop falling harder for her. 

He’s loved people before, he knows that. But now, looking back, he wonders if anyone has ever loved him before her. 

Harry doesn’t remember a time that a previous lover put him before themselves. Where they cared for him and put his needs first. Where they showered him with care and adoration just because. 

No ones ever loved him as she does. 

The tears start to pool again as he pulls away and helps her carry their bowls and drinks to the sofa. They sit close, dipping pieces of bread into the creamy soup Y/N prepared and keeping their eyes on the TV. 

Harry is struggling to focus though when Y/N takes a glance at the clock and carries their empty bowls to the kitchen. He cranes his neck across the back of the sofa to see what she’s doing, but her back is to him as she runs the sink tap and rummages through the cupboard. 

What he does see is her shuffling back to the living room with a small glass of water and a curled open palm carrying three little white tablets atop it. 

Y/N settles beside him, handing him the glass with a tired smile and offering him the pills. “They’ll help with your head and throat, hun.” She curls into the sofa, her knees to her chest and close to Harry’s side. Y/N props one arm against the back of the pillows and her fingers find the long hairs at the nape of Harry’s neck, gently craving through the soft locks. 

He watches her for a moment, completely dumbfounded and speechless if he’s honest. 

Something like Y/N taking care of him when he’s sick shouldn’t have him feeling so fucked and in love, but it does. He’s teary-eyed because his girl is taking care of him off her own back. Because she isn’t complaining once or making anything about herself. 

Because she’s loving him beyond the words of saying it. 

And he cries. 

Y/N’s stunned at the sight, thinks maybe he’s about to sneeze, but his body starts to tremble and she realises what’s going on. So, gently, she pries the glass and pills from his wanton hands and places them blindly on the coffee table before reaching back for him. 

“Hey,” she coos. 

Her hands caress the damp and flushed skin of his cheeks to bring Harry’s gaze to meet her reassuring one. “Why are you crying, H?” Her words are asked in a light and airy voice, one that isn’t serious as she chuckles softly, but he still knows she’s concerned for him. 

He shakes his head and pulls her into his side, laughing at himself too because, why is he crying? 

“Just never had anyone look after me apart from my mum before. Really fucking lucky to have you, love. No ones ever loved me like you do before.”

Her hand is sprawled across his gently heaving chest and she kisses his neck with a soft peck, offering a squeeze. His hand is brushing comfortingly up and down her arm but neither of them really know why he’s the one trying to comfort her.

Y/N swallows, reaching her right hand across her chest to find his hand that lingers over the front of her shoulder, and she interlaces their fingers, squeezing. “I wish I could show you how in love with you I am… no words can describe it.” She admits, bashfully. 

Harry squeezes her hand, using his other to wipe his face and he laughs again, because he’s so in love that it hurts. It hurts so fucking good because he knows this is it for him. She is it for him. Together against the world. Their future, their everything. 

“I know, baby. S’the same for me.”

His raw voice sends a shiver through her spine and her own eyes are watering with salty drops of emotion. It hurts her too. More so knowing nobody has ever treated him right, nobody has ever taken care of him and loved him like he’s always deserved. 

“I’m always gonna love you like this, H. Always gonna put you before me. Put us before anything else. You’re it for me, hope I’m it for you, too.”

He grins, cranes his neck to look down at her through hooded eyes. “‘Course you’re it for me. Been my future since I fucking laid eyes on ya, pet. It’s us forever, yeah?” 

She breathes, tears slipping but she nods her head. He doesn’t get the chance to stop her before she’s leaning up and smacking a kiss to his lips, eager and sweet. He doesn’t pull away either, as selfish as it is. 

Y/N reads his mind, knows what he’s thinking. “Don’t care if I get a bloody cold. You’re worth it.” 

“God, I fucking love you.”

[eveningepiphany]

masterlist ✭

hello and welcome to my official masterlist! this will be updated regularly with every new work i post. thank you for all your ongoing support, all my love <3

the list is rather short at the moment, however it will continue to grow over time and we’ll definitely get a few series in here!

feel free to send in requests here

[*] indicates smut

—ONESHOTS (2022)

sick

Y/N is looking after harry when he’s got a bad case of the flu, and even though they’re both just friends, it’s clear they see each other as more than that.

and they were roommates*

when harry and Y/N have gone from longtime best friends to roommates, the lines that have been slowly blurring since their teen years are beginning to disappear altogether.

hotel room*

harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.

mistletoe*

[part one] [part two*]

you’re with the band at anne’s house the week of christmas and harry points out you’re both standing under a mistletoe.

—ONESHOTS (2023)

learn to knock*

not knocking on your door has led to harry walking in on you… with your hand between your legs.

lessons*

sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.

far from sober

[part one] [part two]

you’re incredibly drunk, and when you are it comes with you having an obscene lack of a filter. harry being the sweetheart he is, is trying to get you back into your hotel room in one piece. he was not ready for you to be so touchy.

manbun*

harry and you are about to fuck in the back of his car, and you want his hair out for it. little do you know how much he likes a bit of hair pulling.

butterfly*

you’re on a holiday with your family and family friends— including harry— who hasn’t had a shirt on this whole time and things amp up quickly in your hotel room.

reconnect*

lockdown is tough on both you and harry. you miss the feeling of physical touch so much you start chasing to fill that void in one another.

innocent*

while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

tease*

seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.

go with it

your ex boyfriend— someone you never want to talk to again— is searching for you at a party. trying to do anything to deter him or get away, you spot harry, and a plan comes to fruition.

SERIES—

welcome to the final show

you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later. leading to an exchange of numbers, and a lot of falling in love.

[part one]

[part two]

[part three]

[part four]*

pirates gold

being a royal, you always knew you were meant to keep your wits about you. despite never fitting into your status, a lapse of your judgement leads you to getting taken captive by a group of pirates, and their captain, Harry.

[part one]

Insatiable*

harry is a prince, natalia is a spy for his court. both of them can’t stand one another, but natalia having to take any direct information she learns about the attempt on his life directly to him seems to put the pair in an interesting dynamic.

[part one]

[harrysmimi]

Boo-Boo Away

Synopsis: One where Harry's left alone with two kinds under two as his wife rests on a sick day

Dadrry Fic

More of my work

Harry loves his family.

Without help he was loosing his mind. All of his family is sick from flu. It really started from him, then his wife got sick one of the the kid is breastfeeding.

Bea, the twenty month old and Maeve the two month old were grumpy and moody since last night. Both the parents stayed up to tend to their kids. But YN got even more sick this morning, and she was advised to take rest by her doctor.

Been given birth just two months ago via C-section has already taken a huge toll on her. So, Harry took it upon himself to make YN take a nap and the littlest was all fed and bundled up and fast asleep as well.

Maeve was being difficult to put to sleep, it took him all of a hour and half just rocking her to sleep but it was worth it the moment she fell asleep and he put her next to her Mumma on her bed. She seems to be a little too young to be sick but she's doing the best out of three of the ladies.

Bea could walk, sprint even, so she followed her dad around the house with her blankie dragging behind her as he did the chores. He'd warned the little girl that she could trip and fall with her blankie dragging behind her.

"Princess you will trip like that." He tried to have her hold her blankie in a way she wouldn't fall, bundled up in her arm. But she threw a tantrum. She was adamant to drag it around with her. "Okay, okay, you can have it as your wish." He surrendered.

He placed all of Maeve's clean laundry in the basket as he ran another batch of both the girls clothes. He took the basket out To the kids' room. None of them slept in there, they both liked to sleep in their parents bed. Maeve especially, she is already bonded with her Mummy where as Bea always wants Papa with her.

"Papa." Bea called for him, showing him a toy she's been obsessed with lately. It was a yellow Lego building block. She showed him asking him to go play with her with the building blocks.

"That's so cool, baby." Harry engaged in little conversations with her. She went back out to the living room. "You're still obsessed with that one?"

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Both YN and Harry have been used to help by their Doula, who helped them both everything as YN healed from giving birth and the parents focused on bonding with their new baby. It was the same when Bea was born. But now that they're both on their own, the chores have become more challenging.

Especially for Harry today. He had to place each of his steps carefully, not wanting to kick his toddler like a football on accident.

As Harry placed the basket of clean laundry in the kids' room he walked out to a living room scattered with toys. They weren't just just limited to the play area but everywhere in the living room.

Harry wanted to cry.

But he left it at that, he doesn't want Bea to cry, and wake up her Mummy and little sister by that. He'd let be on her own until he's done with the dishes.

The little green eyed girl walked upto him again to show him a scribbly drawing of hers. Harry gave her some encouraging words as she walked back out.

She was still dragging that blankie around the house.

It wasn't until he heard a thud and a loud cry that sent him running outside. Bea had fallen down the two little steps which separated their kitchen and living room. She never missed those, it was definitely that dang blankie. Her cried were loud enough to have her sleepy Mummy get out to see her.

"What happened?" YN came running out too, her tired eyes just daring to shut closed again.

"Hey baby," Harry cooed as both the parents gathered around the toddler. "Did you get hurt?"

"Yes." She nodded as she cried, "here." She pointed at her knee which was obviously red.

"Can you move you leg for me?" YN asked and the girl did, "good baby. And again?"

"Hurt." She sniffled. "Hurt."

"I know baby, but we have to move your leg a little so it won't hurt as much." Harry assured her and made her bend her knee a couple of time carefully but apparently it still hurt.

"Boo-Boo away." She leaned onto her Mummy who was closer to her as her dad inspected her knee, "Boo-Boo away!"

"It's alright, see," Harry placed a delicate kiss on her joint and looked at his wife. "Kiss Boo-Boo away, Mummy." And her mummy did too.

"Why don't we go take a nap? With May-may too." YN suggested, "your Boo-Boo will go away after."

She usually just moves on, but given the toddler is sick her tiny body must already be aching already to add to her injury. Harry picked her up like a little doll she is and walked them to the master bedroom.

It was also when Maeve started to wake up all fussy too. It was hour past her feeding time, Harry didn't even realise that. But YN picked her up immediately and brought her to the bed. She lied down the baby as it was the most comfortable position to feed her. Harry placed Bea on the other side.

"May-may no!" Bea cooed as she gently stroked her sister's head. "Mumma, May-may hurt?"

"No, baby she's just hungry." YN explained, "why don't you just lay down, hmm? Cuddle with May-may and Mummy."

Bea lied down on her dad's side of the bed immediately. Making him jealous just as fast. He could use a nap too, he's been up all night and hasn't slept for even a blink. Since yesterday morning.

"Hey, you wanna join us?" YN asked as he was making his way around their bed to go out and finish up all the chores.

"I've got dishes to wash," he shared.

"We can do that later, take a nap with us." YN pressed so he can take some rest too. And he's just recovered from a flu. "Come on!"

"Okay, okay." He walked back to his side and lied on his side.

It was bit crowded with two babies, but it's cosy. Maeve sleeps in the cot kept in her parents room because she's just too small to be on her own. And her older sister likes to sleep right in between her parents on their bed. It is warm and cosy and safe feeling. But when she's in mood she'll demand to sleep in the nursery, in her own bed. And there also another crib in the parents room where Harry would eventually move Bea too. Especially when she's kicking her dad in stomach and face there.

Bea scooted closer to her dad, using his bicep as her pillow she buried herself in his chest for cuddles. It was quiet. Bea asleep and Maeve still having her milk.

The littlest one was drifting in and out of her sleep there, it was so adorable as she smiled and tiniest dimples popped up on her chubby and fluffy cheeks. And she go right to sucking onto her mum's boob until she was breathless. A hungry, hungry little human she is.

"She's running a marathon." Harry whispered and chuckled softly. He doesn't want Bea to wake up. He moved her to the crib carefully.

Only so her fever doesn't go up with her warming up too much. And they can't turn up the AC too much as all of the girls have cold too. He picked up the baby when she was done eating too, and burped her before she was back in her cot too. He sighed seeing how peaceful both of their babies were sleeping. Finally getting the rest they need.

"Now come here, will you?" Now his wife was demanding his attention. And he obliged. He pulled in closer to his chest there.

"You know I love our babies, but I miss our time alone." He shared.

"Awh!" YN cooed, "we can have alone time after they've recovered from flu."

"Mhmm." He sounded tiredly, "hate to see them that way. Bea has been to grumpy since last night."

"Give her a break, she's still a baby." YN chuckled.

"I know, I know." He nodded, "I'm just jealous they get all your time now."

"They get all your time too!"

"Well..." He laughed, "touché."

"Yeah!" YN got all defensive.

"Once you're all recovered, we're gonna it a good few days, the kiddos can go live with my mum for the weekend and we can go to our villa." He layed a rough plan knowing well it could go wrong anyday, anytime.

"You know both of them haven't been to our home in Italy yet?" YN reminded him.

"Need to get their passports sorted then we can take them there for Christmas, yeah?" He suggested, "till then you and I can have some us time there."

"Yeah we can." She smiled. "I love you."

"And I love you more." He placed a kiss on her forehead.

......................................................................

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[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 6)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry is full of surprises including a package shipped to Y/N's home, shows cancelled due to the flu, and an unexpected visit.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.8k

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There’s over five weeks between when you arrive home from Chigaco and when you finally have your doctor's appointment scheduled. The first week, you feel totally fine. Spending a full weekend with Harry, dropping in his presence, and being scented by him has completely taken care of your touch deprivation symptoms. Temporarily.

By week two the dizziness starts to creep up again. Then the itching, followed by the chills. No matter what you do, you just cannot seem to get warm. Towards the end of the third week, it’s starting to become unbearable. You’re constantly exhausted and shaky and just so cold.

Even though you have been talking to Harry almost every day, you haven’t told him how bad the depri has been getting. Part of you still hasn’t gotten over your pride. It’s difficult to admit that you need help just due to your biology. The other part of you doesn’t want to worry him. You know how busy he is and the last thing you want to do is add another stressor.

Even without you saying anything, the alpha seems to sense that you’re struggling. Just as it’s getting really bad a package arrives at your door. It’s a huge box and when you open it you find it filled with a number of smaller, sealed bags.

There’s a note on top, handwritten by Harry, that reads:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other. I know you still haven’t been able to get new soothers yet and I was worried your touch deprivation symptoms might be bothering you again. I remember you saying that nesting doesn’t help much without other scents present.

I’ve scented a number of materials for you. Sarah has as well, in case it’s better to have a variety. The bags will trap the scent in, which is why I’ve separated the materials into a few different bags. You can open each as you need more, and they’ll hold on to our scents longer.

I know nesting is very private for omegas, so don’t feel like you need to report back if it worked or not, though I’m always here to listen if you’d like to talk about it.

Sincerely Yours,

Harry

It’s late-afternoon and you’ve already finished your work for the day, so you start looking at the labels on the bags. There are blankets, shirts, sweatshirts, hats, scarves, stuffed animals. Anything you could want to make a perfect nest.

Suddenly you’re hit with an overwhelming desire to build a nest, something you’ve never felt before. There’s a section of your room between the bed and the wall that will be the perfect spot. It’s cozy, tucked away from the rest of the apartment, and the large windows let it sunlight for most of the day.

The first thing you do is vacuum the carpet, needing it to be perfectly clean in order to begin the project. Next, you grab the old twin mattress out of your basement storage space, grateful that you hadn’t thrown it away when upgrading to a queen-sized bed. It fits perfectly in the spot you’ve chosen, and you take out your own spare comforters and blankets for the base. Since they’ll be covered in scented objects you figure you’ll save the scented blankets for another time.

After the base is made you get stuck. You’ve never successfully nested before, and you’re unsure where to begin.

It’s a frustrating feeling. You’re an omega, nesting should be second nature to you.

Before you can spiral too deep, you call Harry who immediately answers with a “Hi there, love. How are you?”

Just hearing his voice is enough to calm you and stop the spiral.

“Hi,” you reply. “I’m good. I got the package you sent. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. I hope it helps.”

“I uhm, I’m trying to build a nest.”

“That’s wonderful!” He sincerely replies.

“Emphasis on trying,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to explain further. “I’ve got the base, but I’m stuck now. I have no clue where to put everything else. And I feel like a lousy omega because I should just know how to do it, right?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. First of all, you could never be a lousy omega. But there might be a bit of a disconnect between you and your inner omega. You’ve been on suppressants for years, basically since you presented. Your instincts will come. You just need to be patient with yourself.”

You take in every word he says and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“How do you always know what you say?” You ask with a laugh.

He laughs with you for a moment before his chuckles turn into coughs.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yea, I’m good, just a little tickle or something,” he answers, voice slightly raspier than usual. “Listen, I have to go get ready for the show soon. I ordered you some food, it should get to your apartment in a little while. Take a break, relax, eat some dinner, and try again. Don’t overthink it, just start and see where it takes you, alright?”

“Okay. Break a leg tonight,” you reply.

“Thank you darling. Talk to you soon,” he says as he ends the call.

You take a quick shower while waiting for the food to arrive. This isn't the first time Harry’s sent you a meal. It’s his way of taking care of you even from across the country. The doorbell rings and you’re not surprised to see that he ordered your favorite Italian dish, reminding you how much he truly listens, and somehow seems to know what you’re craving before you do.

You do as he says and relax during dinner, watching an episode of your favorite comfort show. After you’re finished you decide to try again. You put on Harry's first album and grab one of the bags from the box. The note says it has two shirts, a sweater, and a scarf, all with Harry scent. You open it and his scent surrounds you. The task at hand no longer seems daunting, but rather exciting.

Over the next hour you construct a perfect nest, at least in your opinion. You’ve used materials from two bags of Harry’s and one of Sarah’s, as well as scenting a few materials of your own. The combination of smells is wonderful, absolutely soothing to your omega.

Possibly your favorite thing Harry sent is a new stuffed bunny, referencing the fact that you’ve compared him to a bunny rabbit on multiple occasions.

You’re cuddled in the best, new bunny in your arms, and you pull up your phone. It’s later than you thought, and Harry’s show will be starting soon. Lately you haven’t been able to watch many of his concerts due to the time change. But you decide to stay up late tonight and start a little bit later than usual tomorrow, fully taking advantage of the freedom you have for your job.

Everything starts normally but you notice a change in Harry’s demeanor about halfway through. His voice starts getting raspier, he’s turning his head to cough and clear his throat more often than usual, and he generally just seems a bit off.

That coughing earlier was definitely not just a simple little tickle.

You give him thirty minutes after the show ends to get home and shower before you FaceTime him. He answers immediately and says, “What are you still doing awake?” His voice sounds even worse than before.

“I was watching your show,” you answer.

“So you saw how shit I was?”

This is what you were afraid of. This is why you stayed up even later to talk to him. Because you knew he’d be beating himself up even though he’d obviously pushed through pain to give the very best concert he could.

“Harry, no, you absolutely were not shit. I won’t lie, you sounded a little croaky when you spoke, but the songs sounded perfect. You still put on an excellent show. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m upset for starters. But physically I kind of feel like garbage. My throat burns, my body’s aching, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to rest, Harry. Give yourself time to get better.”

“I know that you’re right, but it’s hard. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he says with a sad, small voice that nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s not healthy to push yourself too hard. You need a break or it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice is laced with concern, as you practically plead with him to take care of himself. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks and you’re fully aware of his tendency to overwork himself, and his habit of putting everything before himself and his health. He’s explained that it’s a holdover from his early experience in the music industry and how hard management pushed him and the other boys when they first started. Since then, it’s been hard to change his mentality on the issue.

He nods without saying anything, and you take it as a win; albeit a small one. At least he’s willing to agree that he needs to take it easy. You can only hope that he actually will.

“Where are you?” he suddenly asks. “I don’t recognize your background.”

You smile and blush before replying, “I’m in my nest.”

“You are? It worked? How to do feel?” There’s a definite change in his attitude now, excitement rather than despair.

“It worked. Thank you again for the materials and the help earlier. I feel,” you pause for a moment to think before saying, “content. And safe.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Truly just made me feel better knowing I could help you in some way.”

“I wish I could do the same for you.”

“You do. You help me. By calling, and talking me down from a spiral. And looking so cozy in your lovely nest.” Your cheeks warm again at the alpha complimenting the nest you worked so hard on. You feel proud to have made something that he approves of, especially with no prior experience. Suddenly thoughts of nests you can make for the two of you, maybe one day pups as well, force their way into your mind.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” is all you say in reply.

Your eyes meet for a moment, just simply taking each other in, before Harry finally says, “It’s pretty late here, and I know it is way past your bedtime. Get some sleep darling.”

“I will. Please, take it easy tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love,” he replies with a soft smile.

“Good night Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You roll over, nose facing the wall of the nest, where Harry’s scent is strongest and you’re able to pick up on a hint of Sarah’s as well. Even though you’re worried about Harry, your surroundings have you calm enough to quickly fall asleep.

The next few days are difficult. Harry gets diagnosed with the flu and seems to just be getting sicker. He does everything he can to get better, but unfortunately ends up needing to postpone three shows while he continues to rest and get back to performance shape.

He’s upset and frustrated about the situation, and you spend much of those days texting and talking on Facetime to reassure him that no one is mad at him. While you agree that they might be a bit disappointed, you remind him that his true fans care about him and wouldn’t want him to push himself too far.

One week of rest does him a world of good. It’s obvious at his next show, exactly seven days later, that he has made a full recovery. You stay up again to watch the very beginning of the concert and fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that Harry is back in full health and back to doing what he loves.

Another week after that Harry’s finished his US residencies and it’s finally time for your doctor’s appointment.

As much as you’ve been looking forward to being seen and having your problem fixed, you’re incredibly nervous going in. You hadn’t been able to speak to Harry that morning as he was traveling and you’re more anxious than you expected to be.

Your doctor is a lovely beta woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you lay your sweatshirt next to you on the bed during the exam. You’d pulled it out of one of the bags that morning specifically to have Harry’s scent with you, and since you had to change into a patient gown this is the next best option. It works in keeping you calm as she goes through the rather invasive checkup.

After the physical exam is over she leaves so you can change before discussing what she found. Once you’re dressed the nurse leads you to her office and you sit across from her at the desk.

“First of all,” she begins. “I want to assure you that you’re perfectly healthy.” You breathe a sigh of relief at that, not even realizing that you’d been at least a little concerned that something was wrong.

“It seems we were right in assuming that you’ve developed a tolerance to your medication regimen. You were on a fairly high dosage so unfortunately it won’t be as simple as switching to different meds. You’d likely start having these same problems within just a year or possibly a couple of months.”

You listen closely, hanging on to every word even though you’re worried about where this is headed.

“What I would like to have you do,” she continues, “Is go completely off the medications for six months. This will allow your body to basically reset. I won’t lie, it will be tough for a while, especially if you don’t have an alpha, but it will ensure that the meds will be completely effective for years to come once you start back up.”

“I’ve never been unmedicated before,” you quickly say, trying to communicate how unsure you feel about what she is saying.

“Why don’t I tell you what you can expect during this time?” She asks and you nod, wanting as much information as possible.

“If you don’t have an alpha, then you’ll likely experience touch deprivation. It may be a little worse than what you’ve reported feeling recently, but I promise it will not be debilitating. It takes over a year for those symptoms to become severe. Nesting with objects that have been scented by an alpha will help with that. There are a couple of programs that can provide you with those materials if needed. I can give you the contact information.”

“No, thank you. I have a couple of alphas who have given me things. I’m sure they’ll be able to re-scent them for me if I ask,” you reply.

“Okay, wonderful. I’m glad you have some trusted alphas to help you. I urge you to accept help from them during this. It will make everything much easier for you and your inner omega. Now I know you like to hide your scent in public, which I completely understand given the way people tend to treat omegas. While you can’t take the oral scent blockers, the spray on kind is fine in moderation. I don’t recommend constant use though. And of course, being scented by an alpha is not only approved, but recommended.”

You smile slightly at this, thinking Harry would probably be happy with an excuse to scent you whenever possible.

“The last thing we need to discuss is heats. I have here that you’ve only experience two partial heats, correct?”

“Yes. My presentation heat, which lasted about a day, and then a two day heat a few months later before we landed on the right suppressant dosage.”

“Okay, you should experience two heats while off the medications. The first will be in about three months and will be similar to that last one you had. Shouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours and won’t be too intense. The second one should occur three months after that. This will be your first true heat and will last anywhere from four to seven days. It will also be more intense. I’ll give you some literature to read up on and some good sources to do research so that you can be prepared. After that second heat we’ll begin working out your new medicine regimen. Do you have any questions?”

Yea, you think to yourself, I have about a million questions. But no complete thoughts actually form in your brain, so you just reply, “No, I think I got everything.”

“Well, if anything does come up please reach out. I recommend email unless it’s something urgent since I have some time each day to sit and give a detailed reply, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Since you’ve already taken your meds today I’ll list tomorrow as the first day without them. You may start to feel a bit different within the next week.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you say as you both stand. She walks you out of the office and you part ways as she says, “Take care.”

You sit in your car for a moment as your mind spins with all the information you just received. When you finally feel focused enough to drive you wonder where to go next. You’d blocked the day off for this, knowing you probably would be too distracted to work at all after the appointment.

For a minute you debate stopping for a coffee on the way home. Getting a little treat after something unpleasant is like, a core part of girlhood.

But when you pull out of the parking lot you immediately start driving home. Because you know what you need right now, and it’s not a mocha latte.

Walking through your front door you quickly change into comfy clothes and curl up in your nest. This is exactly what your omega needs after the stressful morning. Nothing can beat being surrounded by the alpha’s wonderful scent.

Well, nothing except actually being with the alpha.

But that’s currently impossible. He’s traveling, probably almost in Mexico by now.

Right?

He’s going to Mexico. That’s what you keep telling yourself. It’s what you say when there’s a surprise knock on the door. It’s what you repeat when you open the door and see none other than Harry Styles standing in your apartment hallway.

He’s going to Mexico. Except he’s very much standing in front of you, flowers in one hand, a tray of drinks in the other, and a small suitcase next to him.

“Hi,” he says sweetly, dimples making an appearance as he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you answer just as quietly, still in disbelief of what you’re seeing.

You step back, silently inviting him in. He places the drinks and flowers on the table in your entryway so he can roll his suitcase in, shutting the door behind him.

The two of you stand there for a moment just taking each other in. Slowly, Harry leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls back just an inch and there’s a moment of tension between you.

The moment doesn’t last long. You don’t know who moves first, but your lips quickly crash together in a kiss more heated than any you’ve shared before. His hands grip your waist, and you bite back a whine at the feeling of how big they are on your body. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one resting on the back of his neck while the other slides through his hair.

You begin to walk backwards into the living room, never breaking contact. Harry sits on your couch, and you follow to straddle him, kneeling over him so your legs bracket either side of his. The kiss gets more intense, and this time you can’t hide the noise of pleasure when his tongue just barely passes between your lips.

After a few minutes of what is by far the best make out of your life, his hands move to your thighs. They slide up further and you become overwhelmed, pulling back from the kiss in response.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t question what happened or if you’re okay. He knows why you stopped. He can read that you’ve gone as far as you’re comfortable with at this point. He smiles, presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, and then readjusts you so you’re sitting next to him, legs resting over his lap. He pulls you in, so you’re tucked against his side, and you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close together.

“So, how did the appointment go today?” he finally asks.

Before you can answer your stomach starts to growl loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“Hold that thought,” he says, “let’s get some lunch first huh?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I can make some for us,” you say, and immediately head to the kitchen.

Harry uses the restroom while you prepare some sandwiches and fruit salad. It gives you a moment to process everything that happened that morning. You also think about how you’ll answer Harry’s last question. You decide to tell him the truth, tell him everything. He’s proved how deeply he cares about you, and honestly at this point you can’t imagine keeping anything from him.

So over lunch, you explain everything your doctor said. You tell him about the touch deprivation, and he reassures you that he’ll make sure you always have freshly scented materials to wear and put in your nest. You even tell him about the upcoming heats, though not without blushing the whole time.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that? Would you want me to be with you through it?” You’re endeared by the fact that his blush matches yours now.

You think about his offer for a moment and reply, “I don’t think so. At least not the first one. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And, uhm,” you pause for a moment before admitting something. You’re scared to tell him, but you’ve already talked about enough embarrassing things today with him and your doctor, so one more can’t hurt. “I’ve never been knotted before. And though I want to someday, I want it to be right. And I want it to be when I’ll remember it, not while I’m under the haze of a heat. When we’ll both remember it.” You’re nervous at the end, including him the way you did, like you’re assuming he wants that too.

“I completely understand. There will be a time when we’re ready. And it will be perfect,” you share another shy smile, reassured that he included himself without any hesitation. He wants this, and he wants this with you. He sees a future to your relationship, just like you do.

“Now,” he continues, “when it comes to helping with the touch deprivation and you requiring scenting, I think we should choose some dates when we can be together. It’s not healthy for you if we’re apart for long periods of time. And honestly, I don’t want to go months without seeing you.”

“Me neither,” you reply.

“Do you want to pull out our calendars now, or forget about all this for the afternoon and just spend the day together and make some plans over the phone after I leave tomorrow?”

“Make plans later. Definitely. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

And so, the two of you have a lazy afternoon in. It had started to rain while you ate lunch, which gives you the perfect excuse to turn on the fireplace and lounge in the living room. You watch movies, play some games, and get lost listening to each other tell stories. Harry orders in dinner, Thai this time, and you each take your own showers before getting ready for bed.

Harry hasn’t been in your room yet, and you hesitate before opening the door to let you both in. He’s seen your nest over Facetime, but this is different, and suddenly you’re hit with the overwhelming need for him to approve of it. You don’t know what you’ll do if the alpha doesn’t like it.

Of course, your fear is for nothing. Because the second you bring Harry to the side of your bed and show him what you made, he immediately showers you in compliments. He tells you how perfect it is, how cozy it looks.

“Would you like to lay in it with me? I know it’s kind of small, so I understand if-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence and says, “I would be honored to be in your nest with you.”

He looks to you for guidance, needing to know exactly where you want him. He knows how important nests are to omegas, and the last thing he wants is to mess it up in any way. You instruct him where to lay down and he does so without pause. He holds his arms out and you quickly go to him.

It’s no surprise when you begin to purr. Wrapped in his arms, in your nest, surrounded by his scent, you think you may have entered heaven.

No one speaks for a while, and you start to think maybe Harry’s fallen asleep. That is until you hear him clear his throat. You look to him, knowing he wants to say something, and he takes a deep breath.

“I have a question for you. And I know it may be too soon, but it seems silly to delay when we obviously have a connection. We’re old enough now to know what we want. And what I want is you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or at least not yet, but I couldn’t leave without asking. Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Harry, I would absolutely love to.”

He holds you closer in response pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and seeing the huge smile on your face.

“There’s just one more question,” he says. He seems even more nervous about this one, but you remain calm, even releasing some calming pheromones of your own.

You can tell he senses them as he relaxes and says, “Would you also do me the honor of being my omega?”

This question is even more unexpected than the last. He’s right in saying that it’s very early to ask, but at the same time, it’s not too early at all. Because there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, not just as people, but as alpha and omega. It would be silly not to make it official.

Happy tears fill your eyes, and you nod yes in answer to his question. His eyes are similarly watery, and he leans down to press a kiss over your mating spot, a promise of what’s to come in the future, and you snuggle impossibly closer to him. To Harry. Your boyfriend. And your alpha.

You sleep soundly through the night, waking only when you realize Harry isn’t beside you. The spot is still warm, so he hasn’t been gone long. It’s early, a little before 7 a.m., and you hear Harry getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll be leaving soon. He mentioned a car would be picking him up to take him to the airport first thing in the morning.

Before you can get up he crouches down, running a hand over your hair. He’s ready to go, but he lays down next to you, soaking up every last second before he absolutely needs to leave. He scents you, does it so strongly that he’s practically scent marked the room, and you’re grateful for that. Since you’ll be stopping your medications today, having a space filled with his smell will help ease you through the transition.

Too quickly, his phone rings with a message that his ride is waiting outside.

He leans down to kiss you and say, “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll work it out, and I’m with you the whole way. Goodbye, my omega.”

You preen at the title and press another kiss to his lips before replying, “Thank you, alpha. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise,” he says. With one final press of his lips on your forehead, he drags himself out of the comfort of your nest and then out of your apartment.

It’s quiet without him, but you reflect on his parting words. You believe them wholeheartedly. It’s going to be difficult, but he’ll be there to help.

With the reassurance that you’re not alone, and Harry’s delicious scent filling the room, you slip back to sleep, feeling nervous but hopeful about what’s to come.  

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

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all liked it as well!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

The Box.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - don’t ask me what this is because my brain has some weird ideas and has the weirdest inspiration.

word count - 1.5k

in which, your husband is ready to go on stage for fifteen out of fifteen nights at the kia forum, and the crew team come up with a way for him to get to the stage unnoticed, but his three year old daughter wants to get involved as-well.

Tonight was one of the shows that your husband had to postpone due to the flu. It was his fifteenth out of fifteen shows at the Kia Forum and this time, he was determined to fulfil all of his fans' dreams of seeing him.

Whether it was the first, second, third or tenth time. He always wanted to make them happy.

You stand backstage in the bustling atmosphere of the Los Angeles venue, excitement coursing through your veins as you hold your three-year-old daughter, Amelia, in your arms.

The tour crew rushes around, ensuring everything is in place for the show. Your husband stands nearby in his eccentric yet stunning outfit - silver trousers, a pink open jacket adorned with silver tassels on the shoulder pads, and a pair of pink Adidas Gazelles on his feet. He looks every bit the rockstar he is, and you can't help but smile proudly.

"Mommy, is Daddy going to sing for the people?" Amelia asks, her big curious eyes fixed on her father.

"Yes, sweetheart," you reply with a soft grin, nuzzling your cheek into her brunette curls. "Daddy is about to go on stage and sing his songs for all the fans."

"Wow!" Amelia gasps in awe.

Her gasp of awe alerted her father, who instantly made his way over to the two of you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and hugged the two of you close to him, the feeling of his rings cool against your skin.

"Hey, m’loves," Harry greets, planting a gentle kiss on Amelia's forehead. "Are y’excited t’see Daddy perform?"

Amelia nods enthusiastically, hugging her small arms around his neck. "I love you, Daddy!"

"I love you too, princess," Harry nods, his eyes full of adoration as he holds his little girl close.

Your cute family moment is soon interrupted by the backstage door opening up and seeing the familiar bald head of the backstage crew manager, Steve.

He enters the room, looking a bit flustered. "Harry, it's almost time. You need to make your way towards the stage."

You and Amelia follow Harry and the tour crew to where the entrance to the stage is. The area is buzzing with excitement, and you can hear the cheers of the fans beyond the backstage barriers. Harry glances back at you, his eyes slightly apprehensive about the upcoming task of walking outside in the midst of the eager crowd.

Steve, the crew member, approaches with a couple of other guys and a sly grin on his face. "Don't worry, Harry. We've got a plan to get you through the fans incognito."

Harry raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? What's the plan?"

"We're going to wheel you in this," Steve tells him , pointing to a large black box labelled 'Soft Goods.' "It's going to be like transporting a precious piece of equipment."

Amelia's eyes widen with curiosity as she looks at the box. "Daddy, are you going to hide in there?"

Harry chuckles and kneels down to her level. "Yes, princess. Daddy's going t’hide in here so that he can sneak past the fans without them noticing."

Amelia giggles, finding the idea amusing. "That's silly, Daddy!"

"It might be silly, but it'll work," you chime in, giving your husband of five years an encouraging smile. "It's a creative way to keep a low profile and ensure you get to the stage safely."

Harry glances at the box and then back at you. "I don't know, it seems a bit risky."

Steve interjects, "Trust me, Harry, it'll be fine. We've done this before, and it's worked like a charm. Besides, it's all part of the fun and excitement."

Harry looks at Amelia, who gives him an excited nod, and he finally relents. "Alright, let's do it."

As the crew prepares to put Harry inside the box, Amelia suddenly squirms in your arms, her little face contorting with determination. "Mommy, put me down! I wanna go with Daddy!"

You lower her down gently, and she runs straight over to her father, her tiny arms reaching out for the box. "Daddy, I wanna go in with you!"

Harry looks down at her, his eyes full of love and understanding. "Oh, sweetheart, I know y’want to be with me, but it's not safe f’y’t’be in there. Y’have t’stay with mommy and watch from outside, okay?"

Amelia's bottom lip quivers, and tears start streaming down her cheeks. "But Daddy, I don't want you to be scared by yourself!"

Harry crouches down to her level, trying to comfort her. "I won't be scared, love. I promise I'll be fine. It's just a little adventure I have t’take t’get t’the stage."

"I don't care! I wanna be with you!" Amelia sobs, her little heart breaking at the thought of being separated from her father.

You step closer, placing a hand on Amelia's back. "Sweetie, it's important for Daddy to do this on his own. But he's going to be back before you know it, and then we can all be together again."

Amelia turns to look at you, her tearful eyes pleading. "Mommy, can't I just go in for a little while?"

"I'm sorry, love, but it's not safe," you reply gently, trying to soothe her.

Harry gives you a reassuring nod before addressing his little mini-me. "Y’know what, princess? Next time I have t’go in the box, y’can come with me, okay? We'll have a secret adventure together."

Amelia's tears begin to subside, and she looks at Harry with hope in her eyes. "Really, Daddy?"

"Really," Harry affirms with a smile, wiping away her tears. "But f’now, y’have t’stay with mommy, alright? She'll take good care of you."

Amelia reluctantly nods, but her little arms are still reaching out for her father. "Okay, Daddy. But hurry back!"

"I will, I promise," Harry assures her, giving her one last hug.

He looks over Amelia's shoulder to where you're standing and gestures for you to come forward. You step closer, and he leans in, giving you a peck on the lips. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," you reply, feeling the warmth of his love even in this brief moment.

You pick Amelia up, but she still tries to reach out for her father. "I don't want you to go, Daddy!"

"I have to, princess," Harry says softly. "But I'll be back soon, and we'll have the best time together."

As Harry crawls inside the box, the crew members gently close the lid, and you can hear Amelia's cries getting louder. Harry's muffled voice calls out from inside, "I love you, Amelia! Be good for mommy!"

Amelia's tears continue to flow as she clings tightly to you, watching the box with a mix of worry and anticipation. "I want Daddy to come back!"

"He will, sweetheart," you reassure her, holding her close. "He'll be back before you know it, and he'll be so happy to see you again."

With the plan in place, the crew members start wheeling the box towards the stage entrance, and you and Amelia follow closely behind. As you step outside, the cheers and excitement from the fans grow even louder.

Amelia tugs at your hand, looking up at you with wide eyes. "Mommy, where's Daddy?"

"He's right in there, sweetheart," you say, pointing to the box. "He's having a little adventure, and we'll see him on the stage very soon."

The crew members skillfully navigate through the crowd, Some fans do glance at the box with curiosity, but the clever disguise seems to work like magic, and nobody questions it further.

"Look, Mommy! It's the stage!" Amelia exclaims, pointing ahead.

You smile as you approach the stage entrance, where Harry will soon emerge. The crew members position the box strategically, right next to the stage lift that your husband and baby daddy will soon be stood on, ready to be elevated onto the stage, and you can feel the anticipation building in the air.

A few moments later, the box is opened,and from where your stood slightly down the hallway, Amelia’s head rested on your shoulder, and stood out of the way so you don’t get in the way of everything that’s going on, the two of you watch as Harry pops out, laughing as he dusts himself off.

"That was quite the ride!"

The crew members congratulate him on a successful journey, and Harry gives them a playful salute. "Thanks, guys. That was surprisingly fun."

Amelia squirms in your arms for the second time in the last ten minutes and instantly rushes towards him, hugging his legs tightly. "Daddy, you made it!"

"I sure did, princess," Harry grins, lifting her into his arms as well as he can given the limited space, pressing a kiss to her curls before lowering her back down.

He walks Amelia back over to you and presses one last kiss to your lips before making his way over to the stage lift, As the crowd roars in anticipation, your husband takes a deep breath, ready to step onto the stage and deliver another unforgettable performance. You stand behind him, holding Amelia's hand, and together, you watch him shine as he brings joy to the thousands of fans cheering his name.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Dad!Sirius who is absolutely determined to be a better father and husband than his own father ever was. He will constantly spoil his wife and daughter, and the amount of times she’s walked out of her and Sirius’ bedroom to see Sirius lying on the couch with his daughter’s tiny body on top of him is insane. He’s the best dad in the whole world. Also his daughter would absolutely be besties with Harry!

You get home to an eerily quiet house. Sirius is at home with your daughter this week- the flu had been wracking her body and all she’d wanted was her dad.

Not that you could really blame her- Sirius was perfect with her.

There was something in the way he was just able to settle her crankiness with a couple of kisses and little massages to the length of her legs that made going to work a little more bearable.

Daphné also had Sirius wrapped tight around her little fingers- she’d only have to puff her cheeks and quiver her lip and as fast as she’d been given a ‘no’, Sirius’ heart would clench and he’d be doing whatever she asked in seconds.

You find them cuddled up on the couch as you step inside- the house clean and smelling like fresh laundry and hint of milk.

Sirius is flat on his back, head propped up by a couple cushions while Daphné lays on his chest, silky curls braided neatly down her back.

“Hi Siri,” your voice is quiet when you realize Daphné is asleep, pressing a soft kiss to Sirius’ forehead.

“Hey, dolly, how was work?” You shrug and Sirius smiles. He juts his chin to the kitchen, “There’s a bit of soup left if you’re hungry. Was thinking maybe we could make toasties for dinner.”

You smile, sitting on the floor beside your babies. “How was she?” You whisper, finger inching towards her chubby cheek that’s a little paler than usual.

She’s Sirius’ twin for the most part, skin fair and hair just a dark, but her eyes and nose (and maybe her attitude, if Sirius tells the truth) are all you.

“Cranky, god knows I hate seeing her like that,” Sirius sounds as distraught as you look. Seeing her sick, her little two year old body fighting something so harsh, makes him worried. “Then I caved and gave her a bottle.”

You shake your head teasingly. “It was breast milk!” Sirius defends quickly. “Full of antibodies and all that, knocked her right out with that cough syrup the doctor recommended.”

You coo, stamping a kiss to Sirius’ bicep. “I’m only teasing Siri, she’s not too old for a little bit of milk.”

She really isn’t, but you don’t want to get it back to a regular food item in her diet. Maybe only if she’s poorly, you decide to yourself.

“Other than that?” You ask, watching her nose wriggle as you stroke it.

“An angel! I’m telling you, Daphné’s a saint, dolly.”

“Daphné could rip apart every sheet of music you have and you’d think she was interceding from the gods, Siri.” You laugh, already envisioning Sirius having a hard time reprimanding her.

“She would be!” She’s going to be the most spoilt baby the world has ever seen and you’re going to enjoy every second of it and so will Sirius.

[scuttle-buttle]

Co-Pilots

Nobody asked for this. I have the flu. I needed something nice to focus on and apparently this was it. Blame @lorna-d-m my partner in crime :) also kudos to winniemaywebber and sagesolscitcewrites because i def read all their stuff and was vibing it and the pet names and stuff sooo hard

Rated: 18+

Word Count: approx. 3k

Tags: MMF, fluff and reassurance, mentions of wartime ptsd, body confidence issues, mentions of having children, PiV sex, female receiving oral, male receiving oral, voyeurism, no stated use of contraception

A/N: Croz is referred to as Crosby, Harry, and Bing in this (so as not to confuse). And idk what rank Rosie is by this point so were just going with Major

✈️

The bright lights blinded you the first time you walked through New York City; tonight was no different. Flashes of neon whites, golds, blues, reds, lit up your path as you entered the lobby to the Ritz hotel. Your husband had made arrangements for you to meet him in the city much as he had a near 2 years ago during the height of the war. You wanted to meet him at the airport. Crosby insisted he find you at the hotel. And now, with Hitler defeated, he was on his way home. For good. 

His phone call had startled you. Usually, you wrote him weekly, sometimes more if you felt lonesome. Harry’s letters were less frequent, but no less loving. Little Steve kept you more than busy most days, back home safe terrorizing your mother and father while you got some rest and relaxation with your Bing in the big city. The toddler was a shining light in your dark days. He had the same dark curls, the same downturned eyes as his father. A piece of your love that was yours no matter what the war brought - or took.

You’d nearly lost your footing when you heard his voice, gruff and mellow, across the line. Darlin’ it's me, he'd said, I'm coming home but I've got some business to finish in the city, meet me there. I'm bringing Rosie, you remember him yeah? Said he'll take us dancing at the best jazz spots. I love you Mrs. Crosby. See you soon.

Now you wait in the lobby for your love and his friend.

Minutes tick by as you wait. Maybe the plane was late? Maybe they had to meet somewhere after landing to debrief? Maybe there was a problem with the engine? Just as your maybes started to drown out the chatter and bustle around you a voice rang out.

“Well ho-ly mackerel, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes Mrs. Crosby.”

The sight of your husband had you dashing into his waiting arms. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed him senseless over and over and over. Crosby couldn’t contain his laughter at your reaction, nor did he bother hiding it when he wiped his eyes dry. 

“I’ve missed you so much Bing.”

His forehead rested on yours. “God how I’ve missed you too, Darlin’.” 

Over his shoulder you notice a taller man, stylish moustache and curls neatly gelled into place, attempting to avert his eyes and give your reunion privacy. You were struck by how attractive he was. “Bing?”

“Oh!” Harry takes a step back. “Darlin’ this is Robert Rosenthal - or Rosie as us boys like to call him.”

Rosie gives a toothy smile and holds out his hand for a firm shake; “so nice to meet you, Mrs. Crosby. Croz here has told me all about you.”

Giving your husband a raised eyebrow, you ask “all good things I hope?”

Both men chuckle. “Only the best, ma’am.” 

The three of you settled into your rooms before deciding that a celebration was in order. Rosie commandeered the evening, promising only the best jazz New York had to offer. Drinks flowed, the band jived, and couples danced the night away. 

Night after night, Rosie took you somewhere new. You’d split your time whirling the dancefloor between both your husband and his pilot friend, never satisfied until your feet ached. Harry claimed all the slow dances, nestled up close to your body. But Rosie? He got the fast-paced, jumping, hip swaying swing that Crosby claimed he couldn’t keep up with. Two left feet, he’d claim. Each morning after you slept in the plush, luxurious Ritz bed until lunchtime while they attended to their military duties. 

Friday rolled around. It had been a week of this routine. You should’ve been exhausted, you should’ve wanted to slow down - after all you were no spring chicken anymore. Yet, something about being in the arms of your husband and Rosie as you swayed to Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Glen Miller felt so right. 

When the barkeep yelled for “last call” you knew it was time to retire for the evening.

“Say, why don’t you come have a nightcap in our room, Rosie? Crosby asked.

The three of you settle into the living room of the suite assigned to you and your husband. Bing plops into an armchair with a satisfied huff. You join Rosenthal on the loveseat, a respectable distance inbetween. A bottle of whisky sits open on the fireplace mantle. Conversation comes and goes as the trio fall from the high of the night. It’s easy. Almost makes the boys forget the horrors they endured in Europe. 

Around 1am the conversation begins to lull as you finish regaling the group with a story of the shenanigans you and your girlfriends would get up to during university days. “-You think you boys were bad flying all around in your skivvies, but it was nothing compared to us girls that night!” Laughter filled the room until all had let it trickle to a close; the silence was warm like the fireplace embers. Robert sat enraptured by your story, by your beauty, by the thought of you under that blue dress and all your curves. He knew he shouldn’t have noticed…..he was just a man after all. And with the things he’d seen? Could you really blame him?

“How long’s it been Rosie?” The question broke the man’s gaze from you and directed it towards Crosby. He didn’t know it was so obvious. 

Rosie was about to stumble out an answer, an apology for looking at you like that, he doesn’t know, when Croz interrupts again. “When’s the last time you felt the touch of a good woman, Rosie?” Harry waits for an answer. Rosenthal can feel his face heat; he runs his fingers through his hair mussing the curls out of place. This confident Crosby was much bolder than the one he’d met when he first shipped out to the 100th. “Before the war?” There is no judgment in his eyes, no disdain or hesitation towards his comrade as he asks. Rosie shakes his head in affirmation. His glass clinks against the table as he sets it down, whisky unfinished.

Crosby sighs. “Too long.”

“Too damn long…” Rosie agrees in a mumble. 

You sit and watch the boys in rapt attention before meeting Bing's chocolatey eyes. Rosenthal is a good man, a great one from what your husband’s letters proved, and he deserves kindness and softness after all he’s been through. They both do. A delicate hand moves to rest on Rosie’s knee where he sits next to you. His brow furrows. The Major flits his gaze between you and your husband.

In all seriousness Crosby says “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” He tilts his head forward in permission, a silent go ahead. 

The navigator noticed how Rosie looked at you all night, how you returned the glances like a game of chicken. Each admiring but neither willing to do anything about it. How the two of you danced around the club without a care in the world at his insistence. He hadn’t seen Rosie smile like that in ages. He knew you hadn’t laughed like that since before he announced he was heading to the front. You definitely were reveling in the attention of both men tonight. This was never something you had discussed with your husband; somehow you just knew each other well enough even after so long apart to know that it was okay. It was something you both wanted.

Your fingers drifted higher on Rosie’s thigh; not enough to be indecent, but enough to get the message across. His larger palm came to rest atop yours, stopping the movement. “You uh- you’re okay with this?” the Brooklyn native questioned. 

Without hesitation you reassure “I am.” 

In a measured, almost odd approach Rosenthal shifts towards you. His lips hover over your cheek for a moment before the softest kiss brushes your skin. The whiskers of his mustache tickle. You can’t help the grin that threatens to break. He continues to kiss along your cheek, once, twice, thrice, each getting closer to your waiting lips. Finally, his chapped lips meet yours. This kiss is awkward at first as he gathers his bearing, quickly finding a rhythm as if no time had passed since he last kissed a pretty dame.

Crosby sunk deeper into his chair as he watched. He could feel the tell-tale sign of his slacks becoming tighter as he watched his best girl and his best friend. “She loves it when you kiss her neck,” he instructed with that smirk of his. Rosie dragged his lips to your throat. “Little lower-” again he shifted “-right there.” A moan slipped from your parted lips as your body warred with the directions from your husband and the attentions from your lover. 

The room felt stifling. Rosie’s coat, your dress, his shirt, your stockings, his trousers, your brassiere - each fluttered off to the floor one by one. Even Bing had lost his button down. 

The Major guided you onto your back along the couch, trailing open mouthed kisses down your sternum, along your breasts. A moment of clarity passed your mind that your body was different now than the last time you had been made love to, whether by your husband or not, since the baby. Your breasts weren't as pert, your stomach was softer than it used to be. Lips pursed, you let out a small sigh. 

“What’s wrong darlin’?” Bing asked. The navigator leaned towards you, brushing a strand of fallen hair from your face. “You know I can read you better than any map.” Rosie stopped and rested his chin on your abdomen to look up. 

“We can stop,” Rosie offered.

“No, It’s silly…” you tried to brush off.

Both men came to your defense immediately. Looking between the two you finally settle on your husband’s face. “It’s just that… since the last time we saw each other I’m different. My body changed and- I don’t know. I want it to be enough for you. For you both,” you add with a look to Rosie.

Crosby drops from the chair to his knees before you. “My pretty girl.” He kisses you slowly. “We’ve all changed.” From below Rosie adds nothing is the same. “You are still the most beautiful, most incredible, woman I’ve ever seen. Gosh - you’re my wife. Mrs. Crosby! I would fight to the ends of the earth to come home to you.” Softer he adds “I did fight to come home to you… and to bring this flak-happy bastard along too,” he laughed, nudging his elbow at his mate. “Now be a good girl and let us treat you right.” At your nod Rosie resumes his ascent down your waiting body. 

With a flourish your panties are gone, your dripping center exposed to his hungry stare. “What does she like, Croz? Because I'm not stopping until she comes begging all over my tongue.” He licks a deep stripe along your slit. “Sweet as sugar, babydoll.” Gone is the man unsure of himself, and in place is a god amongst men who knows exactly what he wants. It’s all you can do to hold on as Rosie devours you at your husband’s suggestions. Fingers dig into the cushions, tangle into his curls as you writhe under him. 

Rosie puts in his best effort to undo you; your husband saunters up to your face, his pants long forgotten. Cock stiff and ready, dripping with need, he runs the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip. Your teeth nibble at the pad.  “Think you can take me too, darlin’?” A whimpered please is all that comes out.

A cacophony of moans fills the air as your senses are assaulted - Rosie latched to your pussy like a lifeline and your Crosby’s cock deep inside your mouth. “That’s it darlin’, just like that. I bet you missed me, huh? I can tell you did, sweet girl. Fuck I missed you….” 

You gave him everything you had as you licked and sucked at his length. You could have sworn it was bigger than you remembered. He could tell by the look in your eyes you were getting closer, hell he was too. Lord knew he didn’t want to finish like some schoolboy in your lovely mouth. Crosby pulled himself out and you gasped for air. Cheeks flushed and sweat dripping down your temple he turned to his partner. “Use your fingers Rose, drives her wild when you crook them up inside her ‘n don't be afraid to get rough - give her a nip.” He punctuated the end of his command with a nip of his own to your throat. Rosie did exactly as instructed, sending you careening further to the edge and hips bucking.

“Oh- please Rosie- oh god don’t stop-” tumbles out as you start to fall. You swear you feel him humming against your clit as his fingers burn pleasure into your skin.

“That’s it darlin’, just let go for him. Being such a good girl for us,” croons your Bing.

When it all gets too much you gently push him from you. He goes gracefully, dropping chaste kisses to your thighs and hips. Despite feeling like a bowl of jello you remember your purpose tonight - to give Rosie a proper homecoming. 

Sitting up you demand he rid himself of his trousers. 

He grins. “Yes ma’am.” 

Just as Rosie goes to cover your body again you place your hand on his broad chest, pushing until he is in a sitting position. You quickly seat yourself over his lap, his length resting against you. Grinding down, he grunts. “Let me take care of you Rosie, it’s okay.” Kissing his temple, the corner of his mouth, his Adam's apple, you repeat “I want to take care of you dear, let me.”

With another roll of your hips he enters you. He feels different than your husband, but no less wonderful. Rosie’s hands land firmly on your hips as you rock above him. He knows he won't last long, you feel too good. “God Croz how do you do it? She’s so- ugh fuck” he grunts, head tossed back as you squeeze his length. 

“I know, Rose, I know. Just like heaven.” Your husband rubs your back as you move.

Rosenthal buries his face in the crook of your neck, his whimpers muffled so that only you can hear. There are no words for him to describe this feeling: the feeling of being comforted, the feeling of warmth, the feeling of home inside you, even if just for tonight. He almost feels a tear spring to his eyes. Circling your arms around his shoulders you remind him that you’ve got him, that he’s safe, that you're here. You pick up the pace as you ride him, bringing him closer and closer to his fate. His pelvis bucks up to meet yours with every roll.

“Honey I- I’m getting real close.”

You seal your lips on his; “I’ve got you, Rosie. I want you to come for me dear.”

With a deep groan he lifts you off his cock, his spend covering your stomachs and lap in a sticky mess. You hold him as he comes down from his high. 

“That was wonderful, thank you…just, thank you.” You kiss him once more; he knows he doesn’t have to thank you for anything, but he does because he’s Rosie. He carefully cleans you of his come with his discarded undershirt.

Crosby drops his lips to the crown of your head, beginning to pull the pins out of your carefully styled hair. “Come here, Darlin’.” He helps to lift you from his colleagues’ lap. “I wanna make love to my wife.” 

In seconds you’re on the floor under Crosby, his cock already buried to the hilt within you. Neither of you move as you both enjoy the feel of each other reunited as husband and wife. Whispered streams of I love you and I missed you and fuck you feel so good tumble from your lips, barely an inch apart. Harry would never need a map to know the curves, the sensitive spots, the constellations of beauty marks on your body - he knew it better in his memory than any map he could chart.

Besides you on the couch Rosie has slumped over to lay down, his arm hanging off towards you. Every breath of your husband’s puffs against your neck, every tickle of hair from across his chest reminds you that he’s here and he’s alive and he’s yours. Emotion overwhelmed you; “Bing, love please, I need you.”

Crosby hitches your thigh up and around his hip; “I’m here Darlin’.” With that he starts to thrust within your walls. His lithe body moves with a power you had nearly forgotten. Each roll of his hips he pounds into you harder, faster, with abandon; his dog tags cool against your breasts where they hung. Harry was a gentle man, but held so much emotion inside. He could let go with you. 

Your next orgasm was building, hotter and faster than the first. Nails raking down your husband’s back, you reached out your other to grab hold of Rosie’s outstretched palm. The slap of skin echoed around the room, mixed with the crackle of the fire and the sound of heaving breaths. 

An inferno raged within you. Every touch, every movement atop you sent sparks down every nerve ending. You didn’t know where you stopped and your husband began. “Fuck Bing mmmm- Harry please-” The rug beneath you rubbed your back raw but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as long as he kept going.

Crosby had his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit in an instant. “Tell me you’re close, I need you to come Darlin’.” You couldn’t catch your breath so you nodded the best you could while squeezing the life out of Rosie’s fingers.  

Another snap of his hips and you’re gone, obliterated. Everything felt euphoric and white-hot. Crosby follows suit, his release filling you and your name on his tongue. Bruises will surely linger on your thighs. 

There you lay, tangled in the afterglow, your loving husband above you stroking his knuckles against your side and your new lover’s hand in yours. No words needed to be spoken. The moment you shared would be seared into your mind forever playing on repeat. God forbid another crisis happened that would ship your boys out and away from you - yet if it did you would hold on to tonight like a talisman. It had been a long four years, and longer so for them. But the war was won, with spoils a plenty. 

Finally. 

Lips meeting your Bing’s sweat-slicked forehead, your grip on Rosenthal tightens. “Welcome home my boys, welcome home.”  

Tags: @sagesolsticewrites @winniemaywebber @sailorscuttle @thirstyvampyr @hellfirequinnie @lorna-d-m

[gumballavocadoharry]

Pet names Harry calls you; Headcanons:

Baby: To him you are like a baby. He squishes your cheeks with kisses and rubs your face with his hands. It's an intimate word he uses with you because you're his.

Doll: Your face is like a doll's. Beautiful, round and unique. You can make dolly eyes and these shiny lips that felt fluttery pressing against Harry's cheek. Your face is so innocent, making Harry want to let his fingers graze over your soft skin.

Angel: Your innocence and honesty makes you an angel to him. Sweet, kind, brave and sensitive is more than Harry would imagine in a woman and to him, you're heaven's sent gift to him.

Bunny: Your energy. You go from one place to the next, and you're always willing to go with Harry on any tour or vacation or adventure. Harry loves the time he spends with you, and feels incredibly lonely when you're not there.

Honey: Your sweetness makes Harry attracted to you. He stops to think of you just to smile. A dull day can feel bright when Harry's with you.

Kitten: Like a cat, so careful and cautious, yet curious and delicate, Harry sees you like this. He wants to hold you in his arms, caress your hair and snuggle his nose to your face. Just cuddling you tightly, not ever wanting to let go.

Love: Basic, he loves you to death. You're the love of his life and his everything.

Sweetheart/Sweetie: Your precious to Harry. Almost childlike but mature for him. Harry likes to wrap you in this protective grasp while you're both in bed or on the couch. He sees his future in you as his wife. You're his sweetie, his girlfriend, his life.

Princess: A true princess in his eyes. Beautiful and posh. Harry would take you in his arms and dance with you in the living while calling you princess; looking deep into your eyes and kissing you passionately.

Beautiful: He greets you with "Hey beautiful," in the morning, even with the mud mask or eye mask on your face, your hair messy and your voice raspy. Harry kisses your cheek before hopping from the bed and making breakfast for you and him.

Darling: A treasure to Harry. You're his darling, a person who he holds dear to him. Harry calls you this when you need to hear it the most.

Love bug: A cute fun nickname Harry says to express those fluttery feelings he has towards you. He'll rub your nose and repeat it over and over with a cooing tone, smothering your face in millions of kisses.

Boo boo: A pet name that makes you blush when said in public at a party. A drunk Harry will loudly say it at a party, lengthening it to "boo boo bear" and ask you for kisses. It somewhat embarrasses you, when Harry's clingy to you and expects you to hold his hand and he just puckers kisses to your little cheeks. It does give you this warm flush of love more than embarrassment.

Pumpkin: Harry sees you little. You're smaller than him and he dominates you in height. He smushes your cheeks in his hands and will baby you just to see you frown a little. Then he'll kiss the crinkles on your forehead and say "I love you."

Sugar: When Harry's in a romantic mood, he'll say it yo summon you to the bedroom. He'll whisper in your ear and pick you up and take you to bed.

Baby girl: You're his baby. Whether you like it or not, Harry sees you as a little bean and he'll protect you and baby you for love. Had a bad day at work? Harry will rub your feet and sing for you. Sick in bed with the flu? Expect doctor Harry to feed you soup and cuddle you along with your warm blankets.

Flower: Harry tells you how he would wish on dandelions for someone like you. His wish came true months later.

Cupcake: One of your favorite desserts, Harry calls you this when he thinks of cupcakes, he thinks of you. He'll walk past a bakery and see chocolate cupcakes frosted with purple or blue frosting and immediately thinks of you which is how you end up with a dozen cupcakes on your desk at home.

Muffin: One of his favorite treats. Your his muffin when he bakes soft gooey chocolate chip muffins for the morning to go along with your oatmeal or yogurt. He adds sweet little notes to them like: I'll be at the studio all day, muffin. Don't forget your lunch for work.

Buttercup: When Harry's feeling extra lovey dovey, he calls you this when he needs to protect you. He knows your a sweets addict and will buy you bunches of treats to make you happy.

Bon bon: Like a chocolate bon bon, Harry sees you like this little sweet treat that blast flavor into your mouth. So creamy and sweet but not too rich.

Teddy Bear: When Harry's away, he dreams of you and craves to hold you like a teddy bear. He imagines holding your hand in his and feeling the skin of your body pressed against his. The smell of you lingers through him and he just wants you to be like a teddy to him to sleep with at night.

Poppet: Like a poppy seed, Harry is fiercely protective of you and will throw himself in to keep you safe.

Cookie: When you're eating cookies, Harry will call you this as a play on word.

Babe: You're his baby girl, he tells you this when you fall asleep on his bare chest, tracing his butterfly tattoo with your finger. His fingers comb through your hair and he just listens to the sound of your breathing in and out with the sync of his heartbeat.

Gorgeous: When you don't feel pretty, Harry will tell you otherwise and tell you all the features of you that he finds enticingly beautiful.

Wifey: When Harry decides to finally keep you forever, he'll hit one knee and ask you to be his wife. You'll say yes and share the promises of your rings together and live happily as husband and wife.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Harry Potter

The Ordeal of Being Known by louisfake

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It's obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco's never been able to back down from a challenge... especially from Potter.

Features fuzzy cartoon slippers, devious house elves, 90s music, and lots—LOTS—of memories. Ron is annoyingly hot, Hermione sees right through you, Harry is a powerful idiot, and Draco is a reclusive masochist that would buy an entire city if it would make a kid happy. (And Pansy is "5'2, I wanna dance with you, and I'm sophisticated fun.")

Super Mario Bros

Cooking Mama (Luigi)! by Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood

Luigi was having a perfectly peaceful stroll through the Toad Market - the sun was shining, he'd just found a lovely handmade blanket, and was on his way to the bakery before heading back to his and Mario's home.

Only... what was that sniffling noise from that dark, scary alleyway?

Of all the creatures he was expecting to find, the littlest prince of the Koopa Kingdom certainly wasn't it.

Star Wars

the tiger is out by elumish

Wolffe looks like he’s regretting having a second Jedi with them.

DC

Cryp-Tim by PrinceJakeFireCake

"The cons of dating Tim Drake were innumerous. For one, he was almost impossible to photograph, and so none of Kon’s friends at school actually believed he existed. His family was scary, horrifying really, and all of them seemed to find joy in making Tim regret ever being born. And Tim had charmed Ma and Pa Kent so thoroughly, they had ditched their shovel talk to instead coo at him and offer him pie and compliment him for fixing their tractor, so Kon was at a disadvantage when it came to intimidating someone with his family.”

Kon and Tim date. It goes pretty well, all things considered.

Tim Has a Hero Worship-y Crush on Every Robin Ever by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Tim as an adult was bad enough, Tim with no filter as a child was too much to be around."

Cork Board Contingencies by PrinceJakeFireCake

If you don’t use a cork board to obsessively plan contingencies for every possible way a date with your best friend can go, how can you go on a date at all?

Excerpt: “Are you free next Saturday?” Tim asked, pretty sure that Kon’s jumble of words was agreement that he wanted to date Tim.

“Maybe!” Kon exclaimed.

“Cool,” Tim commented, taking another sip of his drugged grape soda (“Dammit, Tim,” he mentally told himself. “Do not give in! Buy new grape soda! Stop drinking the drugged grape soda! I’ve shotgunned another can of drugged grape soda, haven’t I? Dammit, that makes five!”) then saying, “That gives me just enough time to pass out for fifty-two hours and plan our first date."

Immunology by JustGettingBy

Hypothetically speaking. Could a hybrid creature become suddenly not viable? Like say it survives being an embryo, makes it through growing up, and then just one day… stops? the text from Kon reads.

Tim’s heart spikes up through his ribs. Kon. What’s happening?

(OR Kon gets the flu. It becomes Tim's problem.)

Change of Plans by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Who’s your friend, Tim?” the voice asked.

Jason hissed. This was his baby! Not his friend!

“Sorry, sorry,” the voice hastened to apologize. “I mean, who’s your parent, Tim?”

AKA, who has the time to be a murderous crime/drug lord when there are kittens to adopt

Motion Blur by sElkieNight60

At Damian's school art showcase, Bruce realizes he needs to help Tim reframe their relationship.

[scarlettwriter91]

Chapter 13 has taken an unexpected turn and I need your guy's help to figure out what to do.

I can post early, probably this afternoon or in the morning at the latest, and you'll get a chapter that is quite a bit of fluff with the added bonus of "Snape has the flu and Harry helps take care of him." And the next chapter, likely next Wednesday, will get us back to our regularly scheduled drama, but won't involve the Draco plot.

Or, I can make this chapter incredibly long, post it on Friday, and then next week we will get back to Draco.

What do you think???

Also, have a sneak peak in which Harry threatens to sic McGonagall on Snape lol

"I do not need my thirteen-year-old son to play nurse maid, thank you very much." Harry glared. "I could always get Grandma." Snape narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare." "Try me."

[vaspider]

Hey Spider, can I ask a favour of your followers?

I'm currently stuck in hospital trying not to think of the bill because one of my ovaries has decided to cosplay as an abcess. Because of underfunding and Flu Trux Klan dipshits, I have been jammed into "The Harry Potter Suite" - a divot in the wall exactly the length and width of a hospital bed with a folding screen down the open side and a green neon fire escape sign hanging over my head.

Can I please see some pets instead?

Yes!! Everyone put pet pictures on this thread and totally destroy my notes for days!

I'll start.

[holdupjack]

Sick

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

WARNING: None

——————

Hermione's P.O.V:

7th Year

I wasn't surprised when my girlfriend didn't show up for breakfast, it happens many times due to her very bad sleeping habits.

So, I didn't think much of it as I studied for the test in an upcoming class and ate my toast.

After breakfast, my Friday morning went on normally as I zipped from class to class.

When lunch rolled around, I did find it immediately strange that Y/n was nowhere in sight when I entered the Great Hall.

"Hermione! There you are!" I hear, and I see Y/n's dorm mate walk up to me.

"I've been looking for you all morning! Y/n wanted me to tell you that she's not going to classes today" they say and I furrow my brows in confusion.

"The poor thing has caught that nasty chest flu that's been going around! She moved herself into the spare dorm so no one else would get sick" they say as their eyes seem to catch someone behind me.

"Tell Y/n I hope she feels better, bye!" They say as they disappear into the sea of students coming and going.

I bite my lip and walk over to the space between Harry and Ginny.

"You look anxious," Ginny says as I take a bowl and fill it with the daily soup that is made as a lunch option.

"I'm not anxious, it's just Y/n is sick with that dreaded chest flu," I say and Ron snickers like a little kid.

"You two have been dating for two years, yet you still get nervous about a simple cold" he laughs out and I roll my eyes as I grasp a small plate for myself.

"Pardon me, for caring about my partner," I say and he just continues to chuckle.

"That chest flu is rough though, Neville has it," Harry says and I hum sadly.

I know it's just a cold, but I can't help but feel bad for my Y/n.

"It should only last for a couple of days," Ginny says and I sigh softly.

"That's good, I'll see you guys next week then," I say and Ron furrows his eyebrows.

"What? Aren't you coming to our Quidditch match Sunday?" He asks and I roll my eyes again as I use a quick flick of my wand to have the dishes float and follow me.

"If Y/n feels better, then maybe," I say and he groans.

"She's seventeen Hermione, she's not a little kid that needs to be taken care of" he grumbles and I glare at him.

Ron quickly shuts down and pushes his food around with his fork.

I hum and bid the other two farewell as I walk out of the Great Hall, the food following me close behind.

It didn't take me long to get to the empty dormitory that Y/n was using. I could sadly hear her when I walked into the common room.

As I got closer to the room, a loud coughing fit erupts from behind the door, I wait patiently until she was done.

I can't help but grimace from how hard and airy her cough is.

When she was finally done, all I hear is a soft:

"ow"

I knock on the door and hear Y/n clear her throat.

"Come in"

I open the door and peek inside to find my Y/n laying on one of the beds and I frown.

"Hello my love," I say as the food floats past me and onto the side table next to her.

"You didn't have to bring me food," she says as her voice cracks and disappears throughout the sentence.

"Shush," I say as I close the door behind me and take a seat on the desk chair next to the bed.

"I don't want you to get sick" she mumbles, her eyes small and glossy as I lean down and peck her forehead.

Fever.

"I have a much better immune system than you, my lovely" I whisper back as I sit back up.

"No, you don't! I hate when you get sick, you get pinchy and bitey" she mumbles and I laugh.

"Bitey?" I ask as I hold the soup out for her to take, she sits up with a small groan.

"Yes, bitey! You kept chomping on my open skin when I was taking care of you during your strep throat episode! It was like fighting off a feral cat" she grumbles and I can't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry my lovely" I mumble as she takes the food from my hands.

"You know I love you, even with your sick-biting antics" she mumbles back and I chuckle.

"You can bite me back this weekend," I say without thinking, and Y/n smirks as she takes a spoonful of the soup.

"Don't threaten me with a good time" she sniffles out and I roll my eyes playfully.

"How are you feeling?" I ask as I place my bag, filled with my work and books, onto her desk.

"Like I got punched in the lungs and smacked with a steel pan on my head" Y/n coughs out as she covers her mouth and looks away from me.

I lean over and run a hand through her hair as I scoot the chair closer to the bed.

"I'm sorry you feel so crummy my dove" I mumble as she puts down her soup on the desk.

"You should eat," I say and she just hums, laying back down and letting my hand wander through her hair.

"Later" she whispers as her eyes shut immediately.

I smile as I lean down and kiss the top of her dozing head, letting it linger for a moment before sitting back up.

Time seemed to go by fast, as a few minutes turn into an hour, of me running my fingers against her scalp.

But, a part of me needed to do something. I can't just sit and stare at my girlfriend all day.

Even if it is my favorite activity.

After another moment of staring at her chest, to make sure she's still breathing, I stand up and begin to clean up around the bed.

Picking up tissues and a bottle of water she had probably dropped, I throw it all into the bin.

Taking a seat back on the desk chair, I take out some of my books and tried to work on something to pass the time.

Yet my eyes kept shifting over to Y/n's sleeping form as I eat a grape from the plate of food I grabbed for myself.

I flip through the pages I marked and scan the material.

Another hour must have gone by with my failed attempt at studying and my eyes continuously flicker back to Y/n.

Eventually, I did get sucked into the chapter.

Until I feel fingertips land on my thigh, which caused me to smile.

"Watch those hands Ms.Y/l/n" I chuckle out and she groans unhappily.

I laugh and slip my hand into hers, she immediately pulls it towards her face and rests her cheek on the back of my hand.

Trapping me in an uncomfortable sideways leaning position.

"My love?" I laugh and she just groans again as her other hand comes out from the blanket.

She grabs the bottom of the chair and pulls it right up against the bed, which at least saved me from begin hunched over any longer.

As I look over at my, now far away, studying material; I feel a sudden pain that causes me to hiss.

"Ow! Y/n! Did you just bite my hand?!" I ask in surprise and she laughs, into a hard cough obviously, and she turns away from me quickly.

I pull my hand away and rub the small bite mark on the side of my hand.

"You said I could!" She wheezes out between coughs and I roll my eyes.

"Not like a hungry carnivore," I say and she turns back to me with a grin.

"All have you know, you taste like hand sanitizer and that coco butter you put on your skin...which no carnivore is trying to eat" she mumbles and I laugh softly.

She lays back down and holds out her hand for me again, which I ignore.

"I'm not getting bit again, it hurt"

"How do you think I feel?"

"In my defense, I don't remember biting you," I say and Y/n rolls her eyes.

"Hermione, stop fighting the sick." She says and I hum softly, stupidity taking her hand.

"If you bite me again, I'm punching the sick," I say and she just laughs.

"Yada, Yada, Yada" she mumbles as my hand goes back to being trapped between her head and hand.

Y/n was quick to fall asleep again as I was figuring out how to use my one hand to move everything to the edge of the desk.

I sigh and mindlessly let my fingers rub the side of her head, as I try to study again.

Luckily, by the time dinner rolled around, I had somehow gotten free and was trying to wake her.

"Y/n? Dove? Are you hungry?" I ask as I stand up and grab my plate and the old cold soup from lunch.

She gives me a quiet 'no' and I frown.

"What if I got some of the elf's handmade crackers? And some juice? Then will you eat?" I ask and she just hums.

"I'll take that as a maybe" I whisper as I walk over to the door and look back at my girlfriend.

My heart squeezes lightly as I look at her poor body shaking under the mountain of blankets.

"I'll be back my lovely," I say, and I just get a small snore in return.

I quickly make my way out of the dorm.

——————

Y/n's P.O.V:

When I awoke, it was pitch black in the room.

"I've gone blind" I whisper in a panic, until I see a soft glow of the night sky shine as the curtains flap open for a moment.

"Never mind, I've gone even more stupid" I whisper as I sit up with a groan.

I rest my back on the headboard and sigh softly, my adjusting eyes scanning the room.

It's freezing in here.

Freezing like a winter snowstorm.

Snow turns into water.

Water goes back into the clouds.

Then it rains.

...

Now I have to pee.

"Damn my thought process"

With another groan, I swing my legs onto the side, and let my feet hit the cold floors.

"Here we go" I whisper as I push myself up into a standing position.

Only to fall back onto to bed just as quickly.

"I've aged sixty years" I sigh as I try again.

This time I find success!

My hand lands on the bedpost as I slowly make my way toward this dormitory bathroom.

Thank Merlin I thought about toiletries before moving myself in here.

As I make my way to the center of the room, my head gets lightheaded and my legs feel weak.

"Ope, going down" I whisper as I slowly lay my body on the ground.

I sigh as the cold floor feels nice against my burning skin.

Still cold though.

"Guess I'll lay here" I mumble as my eyes shut.

——————

When my consciousness awakes to the sound of a door opening.

"Bloody hell, Y/n? Love! Are you alright?!" I hear fast footsteps approach me and a hand checks my pulse.

"Not dead, dizzy" I mumble and a sigh of relief hits the back of my head as they lean down and kiss the top of my head multiple times.

"You're Hermione, right?" I question, the ringing in my ears causing me to be unsure.

"No, McGonagall"

Definitely Hermione.

I laugh softly as she presses one last kiss to my head as she rubs my back.

"Are you ready to get up?" She asks and I shake my head.

"Then, may I join you?" She asks, and I nod.

My throat hurts too much to talk.

It's like I deep-throated a pineapple.

Now that would be an impressive party trick.

I hear Hermione stand up and walk around the room for a minute or two.

A blanket is draped over me, soon she sneaks under the blanket and rests her head between my shoulder blades.

It's quiet as Hermione's fingertips trace the spot in front of her face. I almost fall asleep, until her voice rings in my ears.

"Get better, quicker" she mumbles and I chuckle.

"Getting tired of me already?" I whisper back.

"I like taking care of you my dear, I just don't like that you're not okay," she says as I hum.

"I love you" she whispers so quietly, that it almost seems like she was afraid that her words will make me worse.

"I love you too" I whisper back as her arm wraps over my back, and squeezes me.

"You know I'm not going to sleep, right?" She asks and I hum again.

"You know that I'm not going to stop breathing, randomly in my sleep?" I ask, and she just sighs.

"In my brain, I know that, but my heart and gut say otherwise" Hermione whispers as her lips reach up and kiss my neck, before going back to their original position.

"Thank you for caring," I say as my hand reaches down and rubs her back slowly.

"I'll always take care of you, my love," she says and I chuckle as I trace shapes softly on her back.

"Even if you are Minister of Magic?" I ask and a soft laugh comes from her lips.

"Do you think I'm just going to stop loving you if I ever get that position?" She asks and I laugh as well.

"Well I don't know, maybe you'll get it on with your secretary," I say and she snorts as her body vibrates against mine.

She laughs out a little and I could feel her smile form against me as she nuzzles her face against my back.

"Thank you for the laugh," she says and I hum.

"Will you promise to sleep?" I ask as my head pounds from the laughter.

"I'll try" she mumbles.

——————

No one's P.O.V:

She didn't.

Instead, Hermione counted how many breaths Y/n took and how many seconds were in between each one.

5,873 breaths (give or take some missed)

6-7 seconds in between.

Why did Hermione do this?

Who knows, all she knew is that it made her feel better.

Even though her girlfriend was just sick with a simple cold, it still calmed her to know Y/n was still breathing.

I guess it's just a common thing to do though, right?

When you love someone, you can't help but worry when they're sick.

People even go as far as watching, or hearing, to make sure the person they love is still breathing.

Hermione has done this multiple times also.

Her parents.

Harry and Ron.

Hell, even Crookshanks at one point.

But, she's NEVER stayed up and counted breaths.

Then again...

This is her girlfriend.

Her other half.

Her soulmate.

...

Even years later, still at each other's side, after fighting every kind of cold imaginable.

Hermione still counted breaths.

And Y/n still told her to go to bed and stop putting her death into the universe.

Hermione would just laugh and go about her night, taking care of her lover the best she could.

Y/n eventually caught on to her counting habits, and would just stay up with her.

As you can imagine, this didn't help with the cold.

And sleeping during the day, when Hermione was at work, freaked her out more than Y/n imagined it would.

So, Y/n didn't stay up again.

Instead, she let her wife take care of her the way she always had.

With nothing but love and care.

And a little bit of anxiety.

Even after all those years, Hermione loved her more than anything.

And Y/n couldn't help but smile when a cough or sniffle came from her body.

It meant that her wife would show her so much care, even though she was never awake to witness it.

[harrysmimi]

Okay okay soooooo this is my request. You totally do not have to but I thought it was cute. So Harry is himself and YN is a teacher at an art teacher at a school and he comes to visit them and the kids react to them being a relationship with himmmmm👀

Also I love your writing and I think you’re amazing❤️❤️

Idk about art that much. But music counts as art as well. Hope you don't mind.

Lunch Time

Synopsis: One where YN's students are shocked to see her husband (WC 1365)

More of my work

"Oh my god! Ms. YLN, Harry Styles literally has the same jumper as you!" Mary, one of YN's students exclaimed as soon as she walked in.

"Oh my— that's literally the same thing!" John, the other one from the very corner of the classroom.

YN was a highschool Music teacher, she was a big part of the art department of her school. All students loved her for some reason she never can pin point.

Today she wore one of her husband's jumper, a old brown one with green designs on the hem and the above the cuffs of the sleeves. When she originally picked it out of her husband's side of the closet she never thought it was something he wore in public where he was pictured.

She's been having symptoms of common flu lately after she visited her mum who had flu as well. Her husband being away on a tour from past six weeks. Though he's returning home later today she still felt the meed to put on one of his jumpers. They are soft, they're warm and they smell like him even though they've been washed.

She could not take few days off as she had already taken all her paid leaves to go see her husband at his Manchester shows. She needed that money to pay off her students loans.

YN never in a million years thought her students, who are bery obviously her husband's hardcore fans to recognise his clothes. It wasn't her first time wearing his clothes to work, that's all she wears om days she doesn't feel like dressing up.

"Oh thank you Mary, it's a gift." YN said. "Okay class settle down now." She began with her class her music history lessons. Taking a small five minutes break to go bring her water bottle she forgot at her office like an idiot.

Just as was about to leave her office, she got a text from her husband. He was coming home early when she told him a yesterday that she was starting to feel sick. He'd seen her be sick just once and it was just awful. He took the first flight home immediately after his show last night from France, which was very late in his opinion.

Mister⭐

- Hiya my love.

- I just landed in London

- Will bring your fave lunch today and we can go see a doctor.

- I love you so much! xx

It warmed her heart to see that. She sent him her lunch time.

- Yes, please.

- I'll ask later if I can take rest of the day off.

Mister⭐

- Yeah, do that baby.

- See you soon!

YN went back to her class but dismissed them early to move onto her next class with her headache boring holes into her skull from inside out. Again she had her students pointing out her jumper.

......................................................................

"How is Mrs. Styles doing?" Harry asked as soon as he stepped into her office with a bag of food from her favourite place, he carefully placed it on her desk.

It had been over a good six months of them getting married and he's still obsessed with her calling that name, especially since she had been so adamant about wanting to take up his last name. He's smitten like a little baby kitten.

"I took a painkiller for my headache but I think I still need to sleep on it." She explained, getting up from her chair and metting him halfway around her desk to take upto his welcoming hug.

"Yeah? We'll go home soon, okay?" He caressed her hair feeling her shake her head in agreement to him. "Gimme a kiss before we eat and I take you to go see doctor."

"I'm sick, don't want you to get sick." She lifted her head up to look at him.

"I literally won't get sick." He counter and got his kiss, smearing his lips onto her.

"We can actually go now, I already talked about taking a sick leave for the rest of the day and tomorrow." She shared.

"We can eat first, I know you skipped your breakfast." He made her sit down and eat as he talked about the shows she misses, which were all of them except for the London and Manchester shows. About the One Direction shirts someone threw at him which he brought with him, the other one he saved for her. Just as she was about say something, there was a knock on her door.

"Ms. YLN do you mind if I come in?" It was Mary, from the class earlier.

YN's head shot to look at her husband who looked completely unphased chowing down his noodles with his best chopsticks using abilities.

"What?" He shrugged.

"She's your fan!" She whispered. Having him caught off guard.

"Go on, I don't mind." Was his answer to her surprise.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Come in, Mary." YN called but not before taking another glance at Harry.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your lunch time, Ms. YLN, I needed help with this assignment that—" the girl with blue dyed hair was completely froze to surprise seeing someone at her professor's office she never could have expected. "Oh my god!"

Harry actually chuckled earning a glance from his wife though he had his shy kode switched on there, "What do you need help with, Mary?"

"I, uhhh... I actually forgot..." She stuttered looking back and forth between the couple, printed notes in her hands, "this, this assignment— I'll come in tomorrow."

"No it's alright, I'm taking a day off tomorrow." YN shared, "don't want your assignment to be delayed."

"Oh— okay." She gulped nervously.

YN went back to her chair behind the desk and had her students doubts cleared up. Though it took her long time to realise she probably did not get a thing.

"Email me your doubts, I'll and refer to the sites I recommended." YN said, writing down a couple of referrals for online sites. "It's okay, you can talk to him."

"Oh my god, Harry! I'm such a huge fan!" Mary bursted out pointing at her Fine Line hoodie.

"Thank you so much." Harry smiled shyly.

"Can, can I ask for a picture?" Mary asked but regretted it as soon as she spoke.

"Actually do you mind if we don't? I can write you up a note." Harry suggested instead.

"That's totally fine! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She freaked out.

"It's alright." Harry assured her. YN smiled and handed him a pen and her sticky note pad. Harry scribbled a sweet note for the girl and signed it for her. "Thank you."

"No, thank you so much." Mary smiled accepting the note Harry gabe her.

"Mary, please don't tell anyone just yet about this if you can." Harry spoke. "Maybe wait for a few days.

"Yeah, no I won't. I really won't." The girl was freaking out, she waved at him before leaving.

"She won't tell anyone Harry, don't worry." YN assured him getting back on her previous seat next to him.

"You think so?"

"I know so." She affirmed, "I've known her for quite a long time now. She's one of the nicest students I have."

"I'm gonna take your word on that." He smiled.

"Oh, and I got my new professor's ID today." YN reached for the ID kept on her desk face down. It had her name changed on her to Prof. YN Styles which had Harry smirking.

"Still won't be able to fathom we're actually married!" His cheek muscles ached from smiling so much in the moment seeing the ID card.

"Neither can I." She chuckled.

They'd known each other for only a year when he proposed and they got married a few months later. It wasn't rushed. But it was still surreal.

Harry was still anxious about Mary trying to post about their little interactions but she didn't. Harry never saw anything on the internet about them. He was relieved to say the least.

YN students liked her enough to not talk shit about her. Plus they needed their good grades to pass out of school.

......................................................................

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Drabble request from an Anon: Harry helps take care of Wolfstar!daughter when she has a cold.

You can submit a drabble request here.

Harry gives your forehead a warm kiss as he readjusts your blankets for the fourth time in under thirty minutes. “Feeling better?” He says sympathetically as he strokes your collarbone with his thumb. Your skin is extremely warm to the touch but you’re still shivering and layering on blankets. “A b-bit. I’m not p-puking anymore so there’s t-that.” You’re still shivering as you reach for water to soothe your aching throat. Harry gets you another blanket.

There’d been a nasty outbreak of the flu around Hogwarts, half the student body had not only had it but given it to their friends as well. You just were one of an unlucky many. Harry adds the fifth blanket to the ongoing pile on top of you. You give him a small smile before letting out an aggressive cough into your elbow. Harry frowns; stroking your hair. “That’s no good love. Do you need more medicine?” You can’t help the disgusted look that comes across your face at the thought of the cherry-flavored liquid. You immediately shake your head and reach out to pull him next to you instead.

Harry just chuckles as he moves into bed with you, allowing you to become mush against his chest and fall into a much-needed nap as he rubs your back in a slow, soothing pattern.