#and delay harry moving out as long as possible

[padfootastic]

thinking of qpp prongsfoot in their 30s/40s who’d devoted their entire life to harry (and any other potential kids) and now that he’s moved out of the house, have so much free time on their hands that they don’t know what to do with.

so they pick up new hobbies, travel around the world, learn how to live as individuals, fall in love all over again.

[outsideratheart]

Mornings With You (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: This is short but I was in a lovey dovey mood.

It had been late by the time you arrived home. Your flight from Barcelona had been delayed meaning that Leah was long asleep by the time you walked through the door. 

Harry Potter was playing on the TV. It told you that Leah went ahead with your planned Wizarding World marathon without you. She was curled up on the sofa, blanket tucked up to her chin with light snores escaping her mouth. 

“Hello sunflower” your thumb brushed across her cheek bone. 

“I tried to stay awake” Leah didn’t open her eyes but she did turn her head to move into your touch. 

“I know baby. How about we go to bed?” 

The blonde nods her head with little to no energy as she was still half asleep. Leah may have agreed with you but she made no effort to move. You didn’t mind though, you scooped her up and carried her bridal style into your bedroom. 

Within seconds you were changed and laying in bed with your girlfriend in your arms. These are the moments you missed when you slept alone at night in Barcelona. The scent of Leah’s strawberry shampoo lulled you into a sweet slumber. 

The next morning you turn onto your side hoping to wrap your arms around Leah’s waist only her side of the bed is empty but not cold. Mornings were suppose to be spent in bed, awake or asleep, especially so when you find out that is isn’t even 9am. 

You close your eyes and listen, maybe she’s in the shower and you can join her but you don’t hear running water. Instead you hear the soft sound of Fleetwood Mac and mumbles of frustration coming from downstairs.

The music allowed you to enter the kitchen undetected and watch Leah and she tried to work one of your coffee makers. As you inhale you pick up the scent of something sweet but also burning. It doesn’t take long to come to the conclusion that Leah’s original plan was to make you breakfast. 

Her hips sway to the beat as she takes a sip of her tea, nearly dropping the mug as she spins and sees you. 

“Good Morning” you tell the blonde who reaches over the kitchen island and kisses you softly on the lips. 

“I don’t know how you drink this, it’s disgusting” Leah takes a sip of your coffee and pulls a face. 

“You’re really selling it” you take a sip and much to your surprise it isn’t that bad. Leah wasn’t the best cooks and the lack of skills did affect her coffee making ability especially when she used your machine. 

“About breakfast…” Leah didn’t want to admit her failure. 

“We’ll go out for lunch later, don’t worry about it” you reassure her. 

The two of you talk about what you had been up to since the last time you saw each other. You tell her about the games in Mexico, the ones she asked you not to play in because she wanted you to to rest after the World Cup. Leah fills you in on how her rehab is going and the smile on her face when she tells you that she has a date for grass work melts your heart.

She was happy and for the first time in months you saw the light that died the day she tore her ACL. There were no words you could use to describe how proud you were of her. It had been tough for her to miss the World Cup but she gave you unwavering support regardless. It gave you yet another reason to love her and to want her by side during the good times and the bad. She was your person, that much you are certain off. Leah Williamson was made for you. 

“You’re staring. What are you looking at?” Leah turns around to look behind her. 

“You. You are—no it’s not possible” you say with a smirk tugging at your lips.

“What?” Leah’s voice cracks whether it be with panic or worry. 

“Just give me a second. I need to make sure” you walk around the island and cup her face.

“Y/N what is it?”

“Well I’ll be damned” you peck her lips once, twice then three times. 

Still Leah was none the wiser. 

“You’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you” 

Your girlfriend dips her head in embarrassment. She never had been good at taking these kind of compliments whereas you loved knowing that your words had this affect on her. 

[narukoibito]

Please: The first time A is drunk (before they begin to date B) They absent-mindedly confess

Apologies for the late response! I ended up writing over 1.5k for this prompt. Hope that makes up for the delay. 💛

When the Morning Comes

AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Harry has a little too much to drink.

---

The cheers from the crowd were deafening as Ginny climbed up the stairs toward the center stage. All the lights were blinding, but she could imagine her family in the crowd, her mum wiping her eyes and her brothers cheering. Her heart clamored in her chest as she approached Gwenog Jones and her razor-sharp grin.

Ginny’s eyes slid to the Rookie of the Year award in Gwenog’s outstretched hands, pride pulsing through her veins. She was just about to touch the gleaming trophy when the cheers melted into shouts as Ron leapt onto the stage, a crazed look in his eyes. He slapped the award out of Gwenog’s hands as he shouted incoherently.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

Instead of answering, Ron lurked toward her. The crazed look in his eyes made her jerk backwards only to realize she was falling. 

Ginny jolted with a gasp.The shouting continued to ring in her ears as she stared up into the darkness. It took a moment to realize she had not only been dreaming, but also that the sounds were, in fact, real. 

What in Merlin’s beard was Ron doing?

Pickles, Demelza’s cat, mewed mournfully as Ginny rose from the bed. She should have known that her first opportunity to escape from the Burrow to cat sit for Demelza, Ron would find a way to ruin it. Months living at home–all she had wanted was one weekend. One. Pulling on her robe, swearing in a way that would undoubtedly make the twins proud, she tramped down the stairs. 

“Ginny!” Ron bellowed.

Her Saturday was not off to the best start. 

The incessant banging stopped when she swung the door open. Choice curse words on the tip of her tongue, she stilled, taking in the scene. Her eyes slid to her brother. "What did you do?"

"Me? What did I do?" Ron spluttered, indignant as he sagged under Harry's weight, his best mate's arm hanging over his shoulder. 

From where he had his face pressed into Ron’s side, Harry erupted into giggles. The way his wire glasses were awkwardly pushed against his face couldn't possibly be comfortable, but you wouldn't know based on his wide grin.

Ginny gave Ron a pointed look. “Why did you show up here?”

Ron grimaced. 

“Hermione warned you not to try them, didn’t she?” Ginny asked in a flat voice. 

Harry seemed to perk up, looking around as if trying to locate where her voice came from. When his eyes landed on her, he lit up. “Gin!”

In no way did her stomach flutter at his childish excitement. That would be ridiculous because she was long over Harry Potter—had been since fourth year. So the fact that he was stupidly happy to see her did not add to his charm.

“Ron, it’s Ginny!” Harry moved toward her and promptly tripped. 

She lurched forward, but Ron yelped and caught Harry before he fell on his face. 

Ron grunted. “Help?"

If it weren’t for Harry potentially hurting himself, she would likely have left Ron to clean up his mess. Instead, she took Harry’s other arm, the two of them stumbling as Harry dragged his feet.

His proximity was completely fine. Not a problem in the least. She was only feeling flushed because of carrying half his weight. It had nothing to do with the arm looped over her shoulder, his side pressed right up against hers, or how Harry's face was close enough to her face that she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Obviously, the sparks in her stomach were from irritation.

Or so she told herself.

"Why is Harry in such a state when you're fine?" she muttered as they trudged through the family room.

"George had these new magical cocktails he wanted us to try. I’m fine, but Harry seems a bit worse for wear. Giggly and affectionate."

“Ginnyyyy.” Harry seemed amused by her name and giggled, his voice tickling her ear. She shuddered, goosebumps erupting where the ghost of his breath had brushed against her skin.

This was fine.

He tilted toward ever so forward, close enough that if he moved closer his lips just might brush against her neck. 

 Absolutely fine.

“I love you.”

Ginny’s heart stopped. 

“Don’t worry,” Ron said, not sounding the least perturbed by his best mate’s sudden declaration, and blissfully unaware of how hard Ginny was willing her heartbeat to beat again. “He seems quite keen on telling everyone that, don’t you, Harry?”

“Ron! Ron!" Harry turned toward him with urgency. "You're my best mate, Ron. You and Hermione—everything you’ve done for me—I love you…I lovvvve...”

“Yes, yes, mate.” Ron patted Harry’s back. "Don't forget about the gallon you owe me."

"Fleecing him in this state?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Is Hermione here? I love Hermione too...not like that though, Ronnnnnn, Ron Ron, Ron-Won, Won-Won!" Harry dissolved into singing.

"He's going to be in a world of pain tomorrow." Ron shook his head. 

“Might deserve it,” Ginny muttered. For nearly giving her a heart attack. 

“He’s been a bit brooding lately. More so than usual,” Ron said. He seemed struck by a sudden thought. “Maybe I can help.”

He unhooked Harry's arm and deposited said arm on Ginny's other shoulder. She tottered backwards as Harry naturally leaned further onto her.

"Wait—what are you—"

"I’mma make him a sobering potion!”

“Ron—you git!" She buckled under the additional weight. "Don’t—”

But Ron was already bounding off to the kitchen. “I’m his best friend! He’s suffered enough, don’t you reckon?”

Merlin, that cocktail must have some sort of delayed reaction.

“This isn’t my kitchen!” she tried to remind him. The only response was a disconcertingly loud clang.

Fuck, Demenza would kill her if Ron made a mess. Say goodbye to any chance of a repeat weekend escape. Ginny started toward his direction, but Harry didn’t seem interested in letting her go. With Ron no longer holding him up, he had taken to draping himself over her.

"Ginnnnny," Harry said again in a way that made her chest tighten. He now had her head awkwardly tucked under his chin. "You're short.”

She glared daggers at his chest. "You're lucky you're drunk."

She felt him hum in agreement or pleasure or both. “It’s nice.”

"Maybe for you. Come on, you big loaf." Ginny dragged him forward, staggering left and right under his weight. Their lumbering journey was punctured by his giggles.

She meant to ease him onto the couch, but his leg caught hers and they both tumbled onto the couch in a mess of limbs. “Oof!”

Her head spun for a moment before she realized they were tangled together. The blood rushed to her face.

Ginny was not thinking of his weight over her, pinning her against the bed–couch, against the couch.

It helped that his elbow was digging into her side. 

“Harry,” she complained.

He peered down at her through his crooked glasses. His cheeks were flushed a rosy hue, stretched by a stupid smile. There was always something about him that made her insides go soft, and the way he was looking at her did nothing to help.

Seeing him so disarmed was dangerous.

"I, I suppose I should go help Ron before he poisons you." She shifted, but Harry held onto her. 

"Nooooo!"

Merlin, for someone so inebriated, he sure had a tight grip.

"Don't go," he pleaded in such a petulant way that she couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine, fine," she acquiesced, settling back. 

Damn that residual weakness for him. She had gotten over him ages ago. They’d become friends, close friends during the latter Hogwarts years, and even were now, several months since she finished her schooling. All the recent get-togethers were fine. Friendly. She’d be lying if she hadn’t missed him.

He let out a long, seemingly satisfied sigh before pressing his nose against the crook of her neck. Her heart drummed against her chest, but thankfully he was too gone to notice.

Was he—was he sniffing her?

"Harry?" Her voice hitched slightly.

"You smell like Ginny flowers.”

“What are Ginny flowers?”

He frowned. “That’s what I want to know. They smell good, like summer. Like sunshine, and Quidditch, and…Ginny.”

"I’ll take that as a compliment.”.

"I love them," Harry murmured into her skin. “I love…I love you.”

She closed her eyes. God, was he trying to kill her?

"Yes, yes." Ginny sighed, patting his messy mop of hair in defeat.

It was really nice that he included her in his list of "loved" ones. It was great that he thought so highly of her, that they were now such good friends. She knew she should be happy, and she was, truly. She was perfectly happy with their friendship.

Except. Except this was Harry.

Unable to help herself, she leaned into his embrace, a nostalgic longing swelling inside her. At least there was no way he would remember this.

He had gone quiet long enough that she had wondered if he had drifted off when he murmured something against her.

"What was that?"

"I love you," he whispered again. It was pitiful how much her heart responded to the words.

"Harry." She started pulling away in self-preservation. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

"I mean it," Harry breathed. Eyes heavy-lidded, he looked at her with such seeming yearning she forgot how to breathe. "I fancy you, Ginny. I love you love you."

Her heart was wildly tumbling out of her chest.

Harry fancied her? He was actually in love with her?

"You what? Since when?"

“Since stupid Dean,” he said, glowering at the name.

“Dean? Since then? All this time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

He groaned, dropping his head back against her shoulder. "Well, there was the whole Voldemort thing, an’ now you’re too 'mazing..."

Ginny couldn’t even begin to process this.

"Can't work up the nerve to tell you. Thought maybe I'd get a drink and do it tonight..."

He didn't seem to realize he was actually confessing because he curled up against her in apparent contentment.

"That's why you got sloshed?"

"Mmmmm."

"How'd that go for you?" 

"Eh, still scary," he said, his face scrunching up. "What if you say no?"

She was over Harry. 

Wasn’t she?

"What if I don't?" Her fingers gently threaded through his hair. 

"It'd be too good to be true,” he murmured, his voice tinged with wonder. A shiver ran through her.

"Harry?”

“Mmm?” He grew softer with sleep.

“Promise me you'll try?"

"Ok, but only because it's you..." He yawned and burrowed in closer. "Maybe… t'morrow..."

Ginny smiled into his hair.

Well, maybe tomorrow won’t be so bad after all.

[sunshinetemptress93]

Welcome to Just This Once: when Harry and Jade reconnect after spending four years and thousands of miles apart on the most special night of their best friends lives.

There is smut of course.

Hope you enjoy!💋

—————————

Thursday June 2nd

I swear to god, if this cab driver gets turned around one more time I'm going to lose my shit. He's been driving in circles for over an hour, completely lost and getting more and more frustrated. I didn't want to be even more late to this gathering than I already am. I called Tatiana and Niall letting them know my driver was a complete dipshit and I'd be there as soon as possible.

The car turns sharply into a parking lot and comes to a halt. Huffing out of my nose, I pipe up. "Um sir. Do you need me to pull up a map?"

"No, no I've got it." I waves me off and reverses the vehicle, turning left back down the way we came. I sigh heavily, and his eyes glance at me in the mirror, so I shrink down in my seat.

I could've walked from the airport and gotten to the resort faster.

After about 15 minutes, the car pulls down a winding dirt drive. The old oak trees creek as a wind gust whips through the area, the mix of freshly fallen rain and salty air hits me and I grin staring out the open window. Tatiana picked the best venue for a weekend away to celebrate her and Niall's big day: an all expenses paid resort with room and board for all of their guests. It was an exciting day, but nerve racking as well. The closer we got to the hotel, the more nervous I became to see him. "We're here. So sorry for the delay! I haven't driven over here much."

Passing him some money for the fair, I shake my head. "Don't sweat it. Thank you!" Of course I was beyond pissed I was an hour late, but I don't have it in me to take it out on him. I'm a bit of a passive person when it comes to confrontation, and quite honestly I didn't have the energy. The trip was long and I was not about to use up the last bit of energy I had on being upset, but in being the best maid of honor for my best friend.

Grabbing my suitcase from the trunk, the driver gives me a nod and sets it down on the cobblestone driveway. I wave politely as he pulls away, still trying to stall some. I turn and make my way up the brick stairs to the front door, heart racing and palms sweating. I knew that I'd see him, especially since he's the best man, but now that this day is here, I was beginning to panic.

But no matter how this reunion goes, I was going to make sure I enjoyed every minute of this trip. I never take time for myself, let alone take an actual vacation. Working as much as I do is how I was even able to afford this trip, so it was going to be amazing regardless.

I bet it'll be fine, right? We don't hate each other, and I mean we're Facebook friends, so maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill.

Following signs that the one and only Tatiana hand made for this weekend, I end up back outside underneath a cabana adjacent to a massive pool.

"Jade!" Her voice sings through the chatter of about 50 people clustered around with drinks in their hands. Dropping the handle of my suit case, I race over to her, colliding into a heart wrenching hug. I could tell that she'd already started crying, which brings my own tears to my eyes. It's been so long since I'd seen Tatiana, a year to be exact. Ever since I'd moved to Northern California for a teaching job, it's been damn near impossible to make time to fly back out east to see her. She opted out of a bachelorette party to save money, understanding 100% that not everyone has the time or finances to disappear for a weekend getting shit faced.

Pulling back, fresh tears in her eyes, she kisses my cheek. "I'm so glad you made it in one piece!"

Taking her in, she looked absolutely breathtaking. She really went all out with the whole bridal vibe, dressed in the most adorable white feather crop top and high waisted trousers to match. I on the other hand had on a camel colored blazer, black body suit, and fucking jeans. "I'm so sorry I'm so late, the driver got lost and I'm fresh off a plane looking like a complete slob."

"Jade, stop it. You look amazing, don't even worry!" Linking her arm with my own, she walks me over to a group of people drinking and talking. I can see Niall cackling at something someone said, eyes crinkled so much you couldn't even see his gorgeous blue eyes. As we approach them, that all too familiar lock of curls comes into view. It's a bit longer now on the sides, and his shoulders looked broader. His shirt was quite colorful, covered in what looks to be food and condiments. Good to see he's still just as silly as ever.

He wasn't the same lanky 23 year old boy anymore, but a full grown man. My heart races the closer we get, so I chew on the inside of my cheek to calm my nerves. "Ni! Look who I finally found!" He turns, forest green locking with gray blue, and visibly stops breathing. I do my best not to stare and look past him, waving at Niall. "Hi loser."

"Jade! Finally!" Niall pushes past Harry and wraps me in a bear hug. "Thought you got murdered."

"Nope, just super lost." Niall pats the top of my head playfully. "Did you give the guy shite directions?"

"Hey!" I scoff. "I offered to help him, but he insisted he had it figured out." Shifting my eyes over, Harry's already fiddling with his rings.

"Well I'm glad you're here, wanna drink?" He asks.

"Mhm. Vodka cranberry?"

"Typical." Niall teases. "Babe, come with me and help." I go to protest, not wanting to be left alone with my ex so early on into this weekend, but Tatiana jumped at the chance. "Yeah! Uh I gotta go say hi to Grammy anyways." Tatiana takes Niall's hand and disappears into the crowd. Exhaling, I decide to go ahead and get this over with and center my body to face Harry for the first time in over four years apart.

"Hey there." He croaks. Harry's gaze does a once over of me, and the tiniest smile twitches at the corner of his lips.

"Hi there." His eyes meet mine again and he takes a step forward. "So do I get a hug or are we going to pretend we hate each other."

The stifled giggle comes out full fledged. "of course you idiot, come here." Wrapped in his embrace, he squeezes me tight. My heart stopped pounding the moment I pressed into his chest.

Harry and I may be exes, but we didn't end on bad terms. We just... wanted different things. He wanted to be married young and pop out a few kids, whereas I wanted adventure and no other responsibilities other than myself. We'd decided after college with him moving back to England to work in finance and I moving to California to teach, we parted ways. It was difficult, but we knew it was best. We were young and needed to figure out life on our own, and trying to force one to conform to what the other wanted would have broken us.

I'll always have love for him and I'd hoped he'd done well for himself over the last four years.

"So," I cleared my throat. "How have you been?"

"Good, good. Great actually." He answers quickly. His voice wavered, indicating he wasn't being truthful. Clearly things weren't good, good great and in typical Harry fashion he masks the truth with a broad dismissive answer.

I arch my brow at him, "Harry," he chews his lip nervously . "What."

I step closer, looking dead in his eyes. "You know I still know all your tells." He stares at me for a beat until his facade finally fades. Groaning, he throws his head back. "God dammit I forgot you can do that."

"Tell me, truthfully, how are you?"

Pushing his hands in his pockets, he sighs. "Well, I moved back about 6 months-"

"Oi! Styles move!" Niall's boisterous voice interrupts our conversation as he reaches around Harry's frame to hand me my vodka cranberry. "There ya go, love!"

Harry shoots daggers at his best friend, but Niall misses it completely. "Follow me, dinners being served." The two of us follow Niall to be seated by waiters dressed in all black suits at a long table overlooking the sunset over the ocean. Centerpieces filled with peonies, roses, gardenias and cosmos decorate the table top. Little tea candles placed in vases filled halfway with water illuminate everything in a soft glow, setting the perfect ambiance of romance and whimsy. Everything was so over the top and glamorous, very much a reflection of Tatiana's character.

To my surprise, I wasn't seated next to Harry. Tatiana always gave me shit for being nervous to see him again and swore up and down she'd have us seated next to one another the whole weekend and yet, I'm sat four seats down from him and on the opposite side.

Maybe she finally came to her senses that this was going to be a very strange weekend for the both of us.

Seeing him now though, all sense of insecurity and angst disappeared. He was my person for so long and breaking up really did do a number on me, but there was zero tension between us right now. Glances were exchanged throughout the meal, and each time the looks lasted longer than the one prior. We ate, we laughed, and told embarrassing stories of our two wonderful friends, it was a perfect night.

Once we'd finished eating, everyone began to disperse and retire to their prospective rooms. Before heading back inside, I catch Niall before he gets too far from me. Tapping his shoulder, he turns quickly. "Hey doll face."

"Hey, um." I looked around hoping no one was within earshot. "Is Harry ok? He said something about moving back?"

Niall's shoulders slump a tad. "Um yeah, he's been staying with us while he saves up for his own place."

My brows pinch, "did something happen?"

Niall stays silent, looking anywhere but my face.

"Did something happen in England?" I press.

"Let him tell you." Shutting down the conversation with that, I concede. "Okay, sorry. Just, he clammed up a bit earlier." I glance over my shoulder and see Harry seated with a few guys from college underneath a tree, laughing and hollering at one another.

"Look, I can tell you this. He's had a rough go, but he's doin' better. Just a delicate topic that's all. Let him come to you, yeah?"

"Ok. I will. See you tomorrow." I hug my dear friend and meander up the steps, glancing back once more and see Harry already watching me. I give him a wave with my fingers, and mouth goodnight and he does the same. The halls were empty and my room was immaculate. With a view of the garden below from the balcony, I couldn't wait to wake up with a cup of coffee and enjoy the sunrise. Trying not to dwell too much, I shower and get ready for bed with a face mask and a poetry book. I wasn't sure how I was going to get Harry to tell me what happened while he was gone, but I just hope he's doing alright.

*****

Friday, June 3rd

With the sun high in the sky, I made myself comfortable on my hot pink beach towel laid out next to Tatiana's white one. Adorned in a wide brimmed straw hat with wifey stitched into it, Tatiana sprays tanning oil onto her already bronze skin. "Don't over do it, Tati. Don't wanna look like a lobster tomorrow for your big day."

Tatiana flips me off and closes the cap. "I'm fine, there's an umbrella."

Laid on my tummy and adjusting the baby blue string bikini top to cover me properly, I flip through my book and roll my eyes at her. "Yeah, for now. But in a few hours when you're three margaritas in, you'll end up out in the water burnt to a crisp."

A flip flop comes flying at me, hitting me in the butt. Rolling over, I see Tatiana leaning back on her hands smirking at me. "Talk shit again and the next one will be aimed at your face." I flick sand at her causing her to shriek. "You know I'm right." I deadpan.

"Fuck off, i know." She utters.

Turning my attention back to my book, I immerse myself into the world of rupi kaur. But it doesn't last long. The men were playing sand volleyball right in front of us so that means it took no time at all for the ball to land right in front of me, sending sand flying into my face. Slamming my book shut, I sit up agitated. Before I can chastise whatever idiot let it get this far from the net, Harry stands before me golden brown and panting. "Sorry, Niall's a fucking idiot who got too drunk before hand." Harry squats down in front of me, bright yellow trunks pulling up over his thighs. My eyes hoan in on his tiger tattoo and my mouth begins to water.

Thankfully I have massive black sunglasses on, so he can't see me salivating over the ink on his skin.

"It's fine." I utter. "I'll sit back to avoid getting hit."

Harry grabs the ball shaking his head, "nah, stay comfortable. I'll make sure to block it next time." With a wink, Harry jogs back towards the rowdy group of boys hooping and hollering, wanting to continue the game.

I couldn't help but watch him the entire time, poetry book long forgotten now. His physique has changed quite a bit since we were together, and I gotta say I'm impressed. He'd spike the ball for a point, dive for a save, or jump serve with every ounce of strength he had, and every muscle contracted and rippled with each move. He just gets sexier with time. It didn't go unnoticed that his attention was half in the game and half on me while I sunbathed. His lips would roll into his mouth when he glanced over at me, especially when I needed to re-apply sunscreen.

Not that I needed to do it as often as I was, but this was a fun little game we were playing. Where's the harm in that, right?

He was doin' something to me too with the way his shorts stayed perfectly hiked up over his tattoo. Fuck head knows how much I loved that one, second to his butterfly on his abdomen. I'd kill to run my hands over it again, and with his newly formed six back it'd feel even-

"Earth to Jaaaade." Tati's voice snaps me out of my daze, "hey stop drooling over your ex and get in the water with me!"

"I wasn't drooling." I lie.

"Yeah, and I'm the queen of England."

"Isn't she dead?" I quip.

"Probably." She tuts. "You know he's single again." Gesturing her chin to Harry, I follow her line of sight to see Harry stretching his arms over his head, exposing his fern tattoos... god I hate him right now.

I sit up and cross my legs, turning to my friend. "Again?"

"Oh yeah." She confirms. "He had some girl back in England he was with for about two years. They got serious super fast, proposed and everything. Then, it all went to shit." Tatiana fans herself with her hat, and continues. "She ran off with some yoga instructor from France. Called off the whole thing."

"Wow, that's fucked." I look back at Harry who's now wrestling with another guy for the ball. He looked like he was living his best life you'd never know he was probably still hurting inside. "Niall said he's staying with you guys."

"Mhm. But he's looking to buy a place in Boston to stay close to us. He really needed his friends." She proclaimed. "Ya know with you coming home, too, he could really use someone to talk to."

My heart drops. "Tati, no one knows about that but you." I scold. "Don't even think about telling-"

"Hey hey!" She raises her hands in defense. "And that's still the case. But if you wanted to tell someone... You've got the prime opportunity here. Now, I'm sweating like a whore in church and need to cool off. Are you coming?"

I place my book in my bag and brush off any excess sand from my body as I stand. "Yeah, yeah ok. I'm coming."

Taking my hand, Tatiana and I race towards the crashing waves, kicking up water with every step. Diving into a wave, I emerge feeling refreshed. The beach has always been my happy place, Tatiana's too. Ever since we were kids we spent as many hours out in the water as possible until our parents had to bribe us with ice cream to get us out.

Like a magnetic force, I feel eyes on me. Turning around facing the shore once more, there stood Harry mid game gawking at me. His tongue darts over his bottom lip until the ball slams right into his chest. Snapping him out of his daydream, he diverts his attention from me to the drunken angry men. "Oi!!! Winning point!" Profanities from his team could be heard over the crash of the waves around me.

"Looks like you just lost the game for him, missy." Tatiana teases.

Well worth it.

*****

Saturday June 4th

I'd never been one for weddings. But the entire day devoted to my longest friend and her adorable husband made me realize they were something truly special. Having divorced parents who despised one another made me very anti marriage, but Niall and Tatiana exude pure unconditional love, and the fact that they chose to share that love with us made my heart burst with joy. Watching my best friend make her way down the aisle brought tears to my eyes and I'm not too much of a crier.

She looked radiant.

With a strapless lace dress hugging her body, her golden skin shimmered in the setting sunlight.

Niall was a complete mess which I know none of us will ever let him live down. Watching Harry try and not laugh out loud while his best friend is sobbing was probably the highlight of the ceremony. The officiant spoke of everlasting love and thanked us for joining to witness the union of two people who loved each other so much that "they decided to get the government involved."

That got a good laugh outta everyone.

Tati proceeds with her vows, but I can't focus on anything other than Harry's deep green eyes watching my every move. The majority of the ceremony was spent shooting each other looks and smiles, winks and giggles. I was so worried about things being weird or hard this weekend, and they've been quite the opposite. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him again. Very friendly, light and easy. After the beach, the wedding party went bowling together, then somehow ended up at a karaoke bar. The longer the night went on, the easier it was to be near him. Almost too easy.

Wrapping up the ceremony, Niall takes Tatiana into his arms and dips her into the sweetest giggle filled kiss.

"Please welcome for the first time, Mr. And Mrs. Niall and Tatiana Horan!"

Lavender seeds go flying from the crowd as the happy couple makes their way back down the aisle. Cheers, tears, and laughter erupt as we follow suit, the rest of the wedding party walk back down the aisle, and of course Harry and I are the first to go. We lead the way, arms linked, and I swear electricity shoots through me. His arm felt firm holding my own as I try and walk in my heels down the grassy path towards the reception hall. Harry glances down at me, smiling. "I wanted to tell you that you look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you, you clean up well."

"I do alright." Making our way to the bar, Harry orders himself a whiskey neat and me a vodka cranberry.

"So tell me, how's life." He asks leading me to the assigned tables. Glancing down I see his name card placed conveniently next to mine. I guess I'll let Tatiana get a kick outta this one thing.

Pulling out my chair, I take a seat. "Well I've been teaching fifth grade math in California. I really liked it. Worked for a good school district, great time off, the works." Sipping my drink, I knew I'd need liquid courage. "But..."

Leaning forward, Harry listens intently. "But?"

"Umm, my moms not well. So I'd decided to come back east to take care of her." Harry's hand gently holds mine, squeezing it slightly. "Jade, m'so sorry." Soft green glimmered a little less at the news. "It's ok, she's doing ok. But there will come a time she won't, so I decided to come back." The words struggle to come out, but Tatiana was right. I needed to be more open about what's going on in my life. I can find a teaching job anywhere, but I'd never get back any lost time with my mom.

Harry's lashes fluttered at my words, and he exhales. "For how long?"

Rubbing my thumb across his knuckles, I couldn't help but grin. "For good, my friend." Leaning back he toys with his half empty glass. "Friends, huh?" His jaw tightened as he watches me shift in my seat. "Yeah, friends." I confirm. "We always got along, so I think friends is what we are."

Darting his eyes across the room, he chuckles. "Mhm. If I recall, we were very good together."

I smack his knee, "Get your mind outta the gutter, Styles."

"But that's it's favorite place to be, especially when it comes to you, peach."

Chills cover my skin and my breath catches in my throat. His pet name for me slips from his lips like it was just part of his vocabulary. Like he said it every day. Eyes wide and not sure how to respond, I sip on my drink and turn away from him. "Did I unlock a memory?" He quips. Crossing my leg over the other, I ignore him.

We've been toying with one another all weekend, but now we're about to cross over that line that we may not want to cross.

He leans over and whispers in my ear, "doin' ok there? Do I still make you nervous?"

Rolling my lips into my mouth I squint at him. "What do you think? Like you said, we were always good together. In more ways than one."

One single finger grazes my bare knee, making me twitch. "Glad to know I still got it." He teases. His hand finds home on top of my knee, so I take another long sip. The lights dim while people mingle and dance, leaving the two of us alone at the table.

Bad idea.

I take another gulp when his hand travels up my leg further. My skin felt like it was on fire the higher his fingers danced along my skin. He watches my micro reactions to his touch as it traveled underneath my dress. He massaged the fleshy part of my thigh, making me feel like I was going to bust. I did my best to keep my composure, but when his middle finger grazed the front of my underwear, I audibly sigh. the room is dark enough and the tablecloth long enough that no one can tell what's going on underneath it. Steady circles are drawn around my bud, and I shoot him a look.

"Harry."

"Jade."

He didn't even look my way. Just slowed his pace, but continued once I looked away, adding pressure this time. I glance down and realize my drink is now empty and I was definitely going to need more alcohol if this is going to continue.

I gasp when his thumb slides behind the thin material, finally touching me properly. My eyes flutter shut, and I turn my face away to avoid making eye contact with any passerby in the room who has no clue what's happening. The lights now fully dimmed to darkness  aside from the spotlight on a set of double doors.

"Welcome for the first time! The Horans!" The room erupts into cheers and Harry's hand returns to its rightful place, clapping and cheering. Brushing off the newly found flustered feeling, I join in and stand, clapping and tearing up as the two most incredible people enter. The room dies down when their first dance song begins to play and I can't help but tear my eyes away from them and look at the crazy man sitting next to me. Harry shoots me a wink and slides his pointer finger past his lips, shaking me to the core. The action stole any words I had left in me.

Harry pops it out of his mouth and grins. "Mmm, still so sweet."

That was it for me.

I grip his suit jacket and pull him away towards the back door that backs up to the main part of the hotel.

He begins to slow his steps, causing my dramatic exit to halt. Coming to a complete stop, I turn and stare him down. "Harry, you're gonna get us in trouble." I tried to sound stern, but it's kinda hard when he got me all worked up. He steps up to me, tilting my chin with his knuckle. "Thought you liked it."

"I did. That's the problem." I stand firm.

"Didn't really seem like it was one five minutes ago. Come on, peach. You know I can take care of that little problem of yours." His voice was husky and low, only loud enough for me to hear him. I know jumping into bed with him right now is not the smartest idea, but I was aching and he could easily fix that for me, especially since it was his fault.

"Just this once?" I offer.

"Mhm."

Crashing my lips into his, Harry's hands cup my jaw. The kiss was rushed and needy, and exactly as I remembered him. It was a teeth clashing, heaving panting encounter that made my head spin. Pulling apart, we stare intensely at one another, silently contemplating what the fuck we are doing. "Jade. I...."

I let out a shaky breath as I bring my lips to his once more. "Just this once." I whisper.

"Fuck it." He groans.

We race into the hotel, scramble to get the elevator button while devouring one another, and stumble into an elderly couple exiting the doors. We apologize profusely until the metal doors shut and allow us to pick up where we left off.

Thankfully the elevator ride was short, and the hall was empty when we stepped off it. I refuse to let any obstacles interrupt us, and we'd have to make it quick before Tatiana notices we aren't there. Unlocking the door, Harry leads me into his hotel room. I walk around taking a peak at it, trying to calm the nerves. Harry was only a few steps behind me, placing his hand on my lower back and kisses my shoulder. "You sure about this?" I ask.

"Never been more sure of anything."

Unzipping the back of my dress, his lips ghost my sun kissed skin. Once at the nape of my neck, then twice atop my shoulder. His feather-like touch down my spine makes me shiver, and he chuckles. "Nice to know I remember what makes you tick."

"Do you remember how I-" suddenly his grip on my locks tightens and twists around once, then twice, pulling just hard enough where my neck leans back to look into his forest green lust filled eyes, "mmm like a little pain with your pleasure? Of course I do. Never forgot."

The thin straps of my cobalt blue midi dress slouch, exposing the top of my chest. Harry's hands gravitate to them, massaging them as I feel his lips suck the sensitive part right behind my ear. The tiniest of whimpers leave my lips when his thumbs begin to toy with my nipples over the material. He definitely remembers how to make my body do what he wants it to, and I will always remember what makes him tick too.

My hand reaches around his neck, lightly scratching his scalp just before I tug at the unruly locks. Harry gasps and sighs, "fuck, do that again."

Turning in his embrace, body flush with his, I shoot him a sly look. "Only if you say please."

"M'not sayin' please."

"Oh come on, you know you like to beg." My free hand slides down his pants, toying with the button. "I'll let you come in me if you say please."

When I tell you I'd never seen his expression go from sweet and boyish to animalistic and feral in 2.5 seconds, I mean it. Hooded eyes and bottom lip tucked between his bunny teeth, he groans. "Please do that again." Tugging harder this time, Harry's jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would crack. Hunger takes over him as his lips engulfs my own, tongues fighting for space in each others mouths. He was always one to dominate, that I knew well, but this time it was my turn.

Maybe something's do change.

Wasting not even a millisecond, his hands grip my hips, tugging my dress all the way up past my belly. I have to break from him to yank it all the way down my body, leaving me in nothing but a nude thong and heels. Harry's knees visibly go weak. "my god," he sits down on the edge of the bed. "You are more beautiful than I remember."

Taking a step towards him I kick off my heels one at a time as he palms himself over his dress pants. I couldn't help but feel powerful seeing him like this, sitting and waiting patiently like a good boy, all for me. I place my hands on his shoulder and dip my lips down to his ear, "Now did I say you could touch yourself?"

Pulling back, shock flashed in his eyes, "N-no, you didn't."

"Then wait." An idea flashes through my mind, so I proceed to unbutton his trousers, pulling them down to his ankles. Now left in a half buttoned dress shirt and black Calvin Klein briefs, I straddle his thigh right atop his tiger tattoo. Harry's arms wrap around my waist, holding me snug against his chest. Open mouth kisses litter my neck and my hips begin to roll back and forth.

He chuckles, "missed it, huh?"

I couldn't help but giggle. "You know it, babe." Panting harder and harder as I chase the high, Harry holds my thong to the side, making it far easier to get off. I know me on top of him like this is torture, but I needed this. All I could think about was his tattoo after we spent the whole day on the beach yesterday. He caught me staring a handful of times, and if I didn't know any better, he made sure to have his swim trunks kept bunched up enough for the tiger to be visible.

Well, fine by me.

"Had me thinkin' about it all fuckin day yesterday, you made sure of that didn't you." I chastised.

"Mhm, it's your weakness." His tone laced with arrogance made my heart jump. I always loved how cocky he was, and he's never been cocky in a disrespectful way, but more self assured. He always knew what he wanted and stood firm on what he brought to the table. And right know, I'm wondering why we never gave long distance a shot. He's carnal in the bedroom, but adoring and sweet all other times. No other man has giving me the best of both worlds, until Harry.

One last roll of my hips and the band in my belly snaps. Pure pleasure courses through my body from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and I couldn't have been more satisfied. My moans mixed with happy laughter and tears of joy. I haven't had an orgasm that intense in years. Harry watches me unravel before him, and he looks fond of himself. "Didn't even let me touch you yet and look at ya, makin' a mess." His arms tighten as he picks me up and lays me onto the duvet. " filthy girl tonight."

Blissed out and dizzy, I simply nod.

I lay back with my eyes closed and head spinning when I hear the sound of Harry's pants hitting the hardwood floor.

I could feel the shift of the bed as he climbed over me, hovering inches from my face.

I could smell his tobacco vanille cologne engulf my nose. It smelled so much like home to me.

His lips connect with mine, tasting of red wine and spearmint.

I was in literal heaven once again. 

Soft lips travel down my throat and land on my sternum. Peeling open my eyes I see him nestled between my legs, making himself comfortable gazing longingly at me. "What's on your mind?" I ask.

He shrugs, "nothin'. Just taking this all in."

I couldn't stop the smile that creeped in, "me too." I peck his forehead, then his nose, lifting his chin I plant a kiss with a loud mwah! "Missed you."

"I've missed you, too, peach."

Harry's large hands graze my sides and land on my hips. "You still on the pill?"

"Of course."

"And you're sure you wanna do this?" He asks.

I roll my eyes and wrap my legs around his waist, "yes. Please, I want this."

"Just this once, okay?" He uttered.

"Just this once." I echo.

Discarding his briefs and my thong, we were chest to chest, flesh to flesh, once again after four long excruciating years apart. But it was as if no time had passed when his hips rolled into my slowly, how the familiar groan he makes when he fills me to the hilt rumbles inside his chest. No one has ever come close to him, and they probably never will.

"You ok?" He pants. I nod, "move, please." He pulls further out of me and rolls back in dangerously slow, eliciting quite a long moan out of me. He doesn't stop kissing me for even a second, and neither do I. It's like we wanted to drown in one another, one last time. Hitching my left leg up, Harry pulls back and anchors my ankle atop his shoulder. A devilish smile peers down at me, "Is no one takin' care of you properly?"

Before I could answer, a hard thrust forward knocks the wind out of my chest. He does it again, again, and again, the best combination of pain and pleasure. Feeling his hand grip around my neck, Harry leans over my body, changing the angle, "baby, I asked you a question."

"No, no one has. Not since you!" I cry.

"Tsk tsk. That's a damn shame." He tuts. "Don't you worry, peach, I'll get you there."

Dropping my leg abruptly, he leaves me empty and leans back on his knees. I sit up on my elbows, leering at him annoyed. "Ok, that right there is not-"

"Hush and turn around."

I sit up, wanting to push him a little and fold my arms over my chest. "And what if I didn't wanna turn around?"

Cocking his head to the side, he glares playfully at me. "When did you get so bratty?"

I shrug and move closer to him, now seated on my knees, eye to eye, soft green and icy blue, "ever since I had to fuck shit men since you. No one knows what I like. And right now, I don't feel like turning around. That ok with you?"  His eyes bounce between my own, mouth agape in surprise. "Anything you want." 

"Then lay back."

Before I knew it, we were at it again with me taking full control. Sinking down with minimal effort, his eyes roll to the back of his head. He did always enjoy me on top, glad that hasn't changed. No other man ever lets me ride them, and it was my favorite position. Harry on the other hand has always been considerate even though he prefers to be more in charge.

His hands guide my hips back and forth when my body becomes sweaty and tired. That all too familiar feeling at the base of my spine was creeping in, and from the flushed look on Harry's face underneath me, he was on the verge of coming undone as well. "Come here."

He orders, so I lean forward allowing him to take over. Every thrust that hits that sweet spot, the bubble expands, until it finally pops. "Fuck Harry, please do stop, I'm-". Words escape me as my body goes rigid, the bliss I felt was un-fucking-imaginable. It was like the never ending orgasm, and he fucked into me to make it last even longer.

"Fuck, Jade I can't hold it." he was breathless, panting uncontrollably as he released everything he had inside of me. Its been four years, and he still gives me the most satisfying orgasms.

His thrusts grow sloppy and ragid, dropping his knees flat. The energy now simmering down, I begin to sit up to get to the bathroom and take care of business. Harry cocks a brow and tightens his arms around me. "And where do you think you're going."

"Gotta take care of that." I gesture with a nod where he's still buried inside me.

"Nuh uh." Pulling out, he flips me over and buries his face between my legs. The sensitivity was so overwhelming it hurt, but I revelled it. Pleasure with pain. I couldn't help but watch intently as Harry devours every last bit of our climax. Almost forgot how good this feels. Eventually I had to push his face back to prevent a third orgasm from happening. I was far too tired for another.  Harry disconnects his lips from me, grinning like the greedy little shit he is. "Always so good."

Harry scurries over to the bathroom and grabs a damp towel, aiding me in the remainder of the cleanup. Once I'd made myself semi decent, I wrap myself in a sheet and pick up my discarded clothing. Looking at the clock, the reception was already halfway over.

Tatiana is going to kill me. I check my phone and see a message from her of nothing but emojis: a heart, a boy, a girl, and an eggplant.

Well, I guess we aren't in trouble after all.

I could feel Harry watching me from the doorway of the bathroom. Glancing up, I see his arms crossed over his broad chest and a saddened look in his eyes. "Hey, you ok?" I ask.

He nods quickly, "mhm."

"It may have been four years baby cakes, but I still know when you're fibbing."

I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling. "It may have been four years baby cakes, but I still know when you're fibbing."

Harry rubs the back of his neck nervously, "well, I don't know if this is appropriate… but. Do you wanna just… stay?" His shoulders looked tense, like he had been holding onto that question all night. Dropping my wadded dress, I walk over to him. I take his arms into my hands, forcing him to unfold them. "Harry, don't feel weird about asking me that. I'd rather stay here with you than sleep alone."

"Really?"

I shrug, "of course." Harry brings my hands to his lips and peppers my knuckles with a million kisses, his scruffy face tickling the sensitive skin. "I'm gonna shower then?" I prompt.

Harry guides me into the en suite, turns on the shower to the hottest possible temperature, and leaves me to do my business. I felt pretty guilty for a moment for running off and boning my ex during my best friend's wedding, but I know Tatiana is going to be dying for details tomorrow, totally overlooking that the best man and maid of honor disappeared before the cake was even cut.

Feeling squeaky clean, I find a t- shirt and pair of shorts folded nicely on the bathroom counter for me. He always takes such good care of me. Once I'd made myself decent, I wandered into the bedroom feeling completely wiped. Harry was nestled in a large armchair, flipping through a book, rubbing his tired eyes. Gravitating to him, I curl up next to him, wrapping myself around his torso. "M'so tired." I mumble. "Read to me?"

"You still love that, huh." He comments, holding me close.

"Of course." I answered. "It was one of my favorite things."

"And tomorrow, if you're lucky" Harry turns to kiss my forehead, "I'll order breakfast in bed, how's that sound?"

I hum and kiss his shoulder, "And maybe you'll wake up with your cock in my mouth, if you're lucky."

"What happened to just this once?" He added.

"We were never very good at following the rules, now where were we?"

[naluwalker]

Yes, I'm here again

Hey, hello, it's me again. Again with more ideas of something I'm not going to write. Again with more Zhongchi, and again with more child rearing. Only this time it's not Naruto.

I want you to understand that while I am neutral towards JK Rowling and all her controversies, the world of Harry Potter is totally different, and the love I have for that series is much more than I can explain.

So in pursuit of my love for Harry Potter and my love for Genshin and Zhongchi, I returned to release my brain bugs.

So, it's the spring of 1985 and a new family has moved into Privet Drive. All the housewives in the neighborhood gossip about the beautiful redhead who now lives at 8 Privet Drive and her mysterious husband.

The cheerful woman visits all her neighbors to greet them with a deep red soup casserole, which she claims is a recipe from her homeland, and introduces herself as Ajax.

Ajax happily tells all her gossipy neighbors about her move from Russia, her new job as an elementary school teacher, and her very handsome and charming husband, who is unfortunately stuck at work due to all the paperwork that was delayed due to the move and how a company will not go alone. The mysterious husband seems to be loaded.

Harry is indifferent until he discovers that his new neighbor is also his new math teacher, and that her children will be his classmate.

While Xiao is silent, surly, and has very scary golden eyes, his sister Tao is boisterous, talkative, and very, very creepy. Harry honestly doesn't know what to do with them, especially the girl who makes fun of him and "the woman who follows him everywhere."

One afternoon while escaping from Dudley and his friends he ends up bumping into Xiao and things don't turn out well... For Dudley. Apparently the older brother has no patience for bullies and idiots.

When Aunt Petunia invites her new teacher and her children over to discuss what happened, which is a subtle attempt to make Ajax look like a bad mother to her children while pushing an angry Uncle Vernon around, things don't go according to plan. what was planned. Because when Ajax accepts, Harry meets the most intimidating man he has ever seen in his short life.

Zhongli Huang, Ajax's husband, is tall, handsome and elegant, and together with his wife they form a beautiful picture that makes Petunia and Vernon fail in every way possible. He doesn't seem very impressed with the situation either and spends the evening subtly criticizing the Dursley couple while devoting all his attention to doting on his wife and children. In every stressful situation, Harry accidentally makes his presence known, and without realizing it, gives blackmail ammunition to the vicious redhead like a shark that smells blood.

With a few mild threats, silent blackmail, and a smile like a grave, Harry finds his life looking up when he finds himself moved across the street to a strange but loving family who treat him with more affection than he has received for as long as he can remember. Zhongli and Ajax are strange in every way possible, and Xiao and Tao are just as prone to acting outlandishly, but the way they sink into his life and heart makes things worth it.

The next few years are warm and happy, the Dursleys avoid them like the plague and Dudley can no longer get closer than six feet without some of his new brothers bristling and attacking like very violent cats. He has also discovered things about her new family, like how his parents treat gender more as a mood than as a real biological thing, or how reality seems to break down around his, but they are things that he has gotten used to and decides to do. That it really doesn't matter how strange they are, your family is your family and that's all that matters.

Then he receives a letter and discovers that he is a wizard, and he is not the only one. Xiao looks at the letter envelope as if there was a bomb inside and Tao waves his as he folds it into a pretty crane, mother and father share tea and ignore everything around them in favor of getting lost in each other's gaze while Harry suffers an existential crisis. The next day they are in Diagon Alley.

Harry ends up accepting magic as he has been accepting everything around him for the last few years, some disbelief, a lot of doubt, and what feels like an instinctive resignation that he can't escape his situation. His parents have given him many options, which include Oxford University in the future, so he just accepts the magic, since his parents seem to be on top of everything and don't mind that their three children are going to embark on what they are It is surely your new life in a magical world. Archons, he can't believe that's a real thought.

Thus, Harry embarks on a new journey away from the family home that has been taking care of him since he left the horrible Dursley home, with only the company of his beloved brothers. Or he was, until he finds out that mother, who is now dad, and father, who is now Miss Zhongli, are teachers at his new magical school.

Once again, he resigns himself to what his life has been like for six years and moves on. Meanwhile, neither Hogwarts, nor Vondermort, nor even Dumbledore know what has fallen into their laps: A very battlesexual former herald, his very permissive divine husband, they overly diligent and surly eldest son, and they mischievously chaotic and eccentric youngest daughter.

[loversj0y]

late night talking

pairing: cc!sapnap x reader (no use of y/n)

summary: sometimes days dont go to plan. it’s a good thing sapnap is there. and maybe sometimes the best things come from the worst days

tws: food mentions, sleeplessness, suggestive content, this one is pure fluff tbh (theres also a bad wordplay)

author’s note: guess who has another song fic? this one is inspired by late night talking by harry styles because it is just very sapnap coded in my brain. this entire fic was inspired by that song while i was driving. big thanks and much love to @sacnac​ for proofreading <3

I let out a long sigh, dropping my backpack down in the kitchen and collapsing against the counter for a few silent moments. I tried to stay as silent as possible as I straightened up to grab a glass of water, eyes skimming over the time on the oven. 4:07 A.M. I’d never had a day go so far from my plan and just become a pile a horribleness. I’d been up for nearly twenty-four hours, simply trying to get to my boyfriend, Sapnap’s, place. We hadn’t seen each other in months, and I was only going to be in town for two weeks, so the plan was to make the most of it. However, that was not what the universe intended for the two of us. 

It had started with my phone apparently coming unplugged in the middle of the night and dying. Instead of my usual alarm waking me and allowing me to have time to get ready, I was awoken by sheer panic at the fact that I was a solid five minutes from completely missing my flight. This was followed by the Uber I’d ordered being late, which allowed time for me to completely burn the breakfast I’d tried to speedily make. So, starving and with 10% battery, I’d gotten into the already-late Uber that smelled like cigars and cheap wine, and I listened to my driver talk on the phone (since I’d forgotten my headphones) as I rode to the airport. Everyone at the airport seemed to have it out for me, walking impossibly slow through corridors too small as I waited in TSA. Not to mention tripping out of my shoe and slamming my arm into the conveyer belt. To make matters worse, the coffee shop was still closed, and Sapnap wasn’t even awake yet for me to complain to about everything. 

However, once I finally arrived to my gate, with just a few minutes left to spare, I hit a wall. Both literally, and metaphorically. I smacked into a column by my gate as I read the screen, and I groaned after I pulled away to actually comprehend the screen in front of me. Turns out I was early, because my flight was delayed nine hours over some cloudy weather. 

Except it wasn’t nine hours at first. No, I sat there for nine hours as every hour I prepared in anticipation to board, and every hour they pushed the time further back. When it became clear that it was going to be awhile, I called Sapnap, but the airport was too loud for me to be able to hear him at all. He’d gone live for a little bit, which would’ve allowed me to at least have a piece of him through all the hell, if not for the fact that the airport wi-fi was incredibly shit. I finally was able to have a conversation with him once the night rolled around and the airport began to empty out, and I could tell he was tired. He’d woken up earlier than he usually does to try and help prepare for my arrival, and I’d almost felt bad for Dream given that I know he was not quiet while cleaning. 

“Baby, it’s okay if you want to sleep. Honestly, I’m exhausted too.”

He whined a bit, “But who’ll be here to greet you when you arrive? And I wanted to pick you up.”

“Well, you know I don’t like you driving at night anyway. But Patches can greet me at the door, and you can greet me once we wake up next to each other.” “But I want it to be nice for you,” He’d whined again, exhaustion clearly slipping into his voice.

I chuckled, “it will be. It’ll be just like when I move in together in the future. I have my key still, and I’ll come sneak into bed and cuddle you. And everything will be perfect in the morning.”

“Mmm, but I wanted to greet you with a kiss. And some big lovin’ hugs, darlin’” He drawled on, “and maybe a lil butt pat or two.”

“Well, sweets, I’ll give your cheek a kiss once I lay down. Plus, you can get all that in the morning. But only if you go to sleep. I need my baby all well rested for me,” I hummed lightly as I spoke. 

“Whatever you want, darlin’, I’ll do. Anything for you. Good night, baby. I love you.”

“Good night, Sap. I love you too, and I’ll be giving you kisses in bed before you know it.”

He hummed out a content noise, and I could hear him slowly settling into bed, “Yeah, you’ll be covered in kisses soon. All the smooches.”

We spoke for a few minutes more before I listened to his words slow into a Texan drawl that led into soft quiet breaths.. It was a bit of brightness in the dull grey of the day so far. Eventually, I boarded the plane, and though the end of the tunnel of hell was near, I ended up stuck to an old man who snored the entire time, and since I’d had no headphones, I couldn’t sleep. 

When I’d managed to hobble myself out of the plane and call an Uber to Sapnap and Dream’s, I’d felt myself growing increasingly annoyed from the long day. I had a burning hatred for my own plans failing, and I’d gone off and on between blaming the universe and myself, but with the exhaustion settling in, I just felt annoyed. I stayed silent in the car ride there, just sitting and staring out the window. I tried to nap but found that I just couldn’t sleep. The exhaustion in my bones was being offset by my own frustration and annoyance, keeping me from ever relaxing enough to actually sleep. I rested my eyes here and there, but I just could not, for whatever cursed reason, actually fall asleep. 

And that led to here. Standing in a kitchen I hadn’t seen in months with full body exhaustion, entirely unable to fall asleep. And even when I thought I had Patches to cheer me up, she ran into Dream’s room. Instead, I resigned myself to making a cup of tea in the hopes that it would lull me into , if not sleep, at least relaxation enough to lie in bed with my boyfriend. 

I shut my eyes. After a few silent moments, I felt two arms wrap around my waist. Soft kisses were pressed against my neck, leading up to my ear, “I thought you were gonna come right to bed,” he murmured softly against my ear. 

I turned and wrapped my arms around my boyfriend, relaxing into him, “‘M sorry, love. I  can’t sleep,” I mumbled weakly. 

He let out a quiet whine, hugging me closer, “I’m sorry, babe. How was your day?” 

I felt my chest grow tight. I wanted to formulate an answer, but instead, I just let out a soft sob. I didn’t even want to cry, let alone realized that I needed to, but once he’d asked how my day was at all, I couldn’t hold back the floodgates. 

“Hey, hey, darling,” he pulled out from the hug, looking at me and gently wiping the tears from my eyes, “It’s alright, talk to me, what’s going on?” 

I just let out another wrecked sob as he softly rubbed my back, “it’s just – it’s been really hard being without you, and today was just so shitty, and I want to sleep so badly, I’m exhausted, and I’ve just missed you so much, and-” I sobbed again, leaning into his chest. 

He wrapped his arms around me, speaking softly into my ear, “Shh, it’s alright, baby. You’re here with me now, I’ve got you.” He kissed the top of my head gently, “C’mon, I want you to take a nice deep breath with me, and then you’re gonna drink your tea, and I’m gonna stay up with you until you can sleep, sound good?”

I nodded softly, and he rubbed my back gently. After a moment, he took a deep breath, and I followed in suit. Once I’d calmed down a bit, he pulled away, grabbing my tea. He mixed in a bit of honey – the way he knew I liked – before handing it to me, and I took a slow sip quietly. 

I turned back around to hug my boyfriend, but he wasn’t next to me anymore. I frowned for a moment until I heard the music. I recognized the song instantly, and I snorted softly as Sapnap came around the corner, a hairbrush in hand as a microphone, pointing at me as he began to lipsync to the song. He danced around with it as well, giving me a full performance. I snickered behind my mug, watching him with a grin. He wrapped his arms around my waist, singing to me now.  “If you're feelin' down, I just wanna make you happier, baby,” he held me close by the waist, moving around with me. I set my mug down after I took another sip, grabbing onto his forearms. I grinned quietly, “What are you doing?” He just shook his head, grabbing my hands and spinning me around as he continued to sing. “Now you're in my life, I can't get you off my mind,” he kissed the top of my forehead as he finished the line, and I just laughed, grinning with him. By the start of the next verse, he had me performing with him, singing to him as he continued to dance around with me. We may not have gotten our perfect welcome, but I wouldn’t trade the moments like these for all the stars in the sky. 

Once the song came to a close, and we sang the final lines to each other, he wrapped an arm back around my waist, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek as he leaned in, giving me a soft and loving kiss. We only pulled apart when we absolutely had to, and our foreheads gently pressed together as neither of us wanted to separate for long. 

“What was that for?” I questioned softly, looking up at him once we did finally pull apart. 

He shrugged, giving me a goofy smile, “I couldn’t stand seeing you upset. You mentioned liking that song, so I wanted to cheer you up.” He lightly ran his hand over my cheek, gently rubbing under my eyes where tears had been mere moments before, “Couldn’t stand not seeing your gorgeous smile.” 

A rose-flush dusted my cheeks as I grinned at him softly. “Well, it definitely worked,” I lightly pecked his lips, “so thank you.”

He grinned softly, “Anything for my darlin’.” He moved his hands down, lightly tapping my thigh. I jumped up, and he held me tightly around his waist. He moved one hand up to gently rub my back, walking to the couch. 

“You know,” he started, looking down at the couch, “you mentioned how you’ve been really missing me.” 

I nodded softly, prompting him to continue. 

“Well, I’ve been really missing you, too. And well, if you’d want to…” he took a deep breath, “we have the space here. And I’d love for you to move in.”

My heart felt so full of love I felt as though I would burst. I wanted to say yes, however…

“I’d love that, but I just – I don’t want to overstep. This is yours and Dream’s place, and George is supposing to be moving in soon, I just – I want this to be yours and the boy’s space, I don’t want to affect anything.” In my exhaustion, I seemed to ramble a bit. I really did want to live with Sapnap. But just because Sap was okay with it didn’t mean the other two were, so I’d make excuses to keep his home life calm if I had to, “plus, I have issues with work. I’ve been saving to move down here, but I still haven’t actually found a job yet, so I can’t just leave.” 

He hummed, pulling me in closer to his chest. “Well, I can actually solve those problems right now.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “this idea of mine isn’t exactly…new.” He paused for a moment, thinking to himself. He stood up again, still holding me, and he walked me upstairs to the room next to his, “This room was originally just going to be set up for storage, but,” he set me down before opening the door, and I looked around quietly. It felt like home immediately. A simple layout, just a bed, desk, nightstand, and chest of drawers, and the walls were decorated only slightly, small things including a polaroid from our second date. 

I walked around a bit, “What’s- I don’t,” 

“This is what I’ve been working on since you left. I talked to the boys already, and they both agreed that they’d be okay with you moving in. And I have no doubts, I know you’re my forever. So I’ve been setting this up – your own space, just so you can still have your privacy and if you need alone time and everything. And I did the math, since you wouldn’t have to worry about rent, you’d have enough saved up to be set. I mean, Dream makes enough for the all of us at this point, so you know,” he shrugged a bit, looking shyly across the room to avoid making eye contact. 

I turned back to him, moving as quick as I could into his arms, practically tackling him onto the bed. I nodded quickly, “Okay. Yeah. I- I’d love to,” I grinned at him. He perked up, grinning back at me, “Really? You’re serious?”

I nodded again, a wide grin covering my face. 

He picked me up, spinning me around in his arms and whooping loudly. “Hell yeah! Let’s fucking go!” He laughed happily, holding me tightly and pulling me in for a strong, loving kiss after. 

I kissed him back happily, softly laughing along with him. There was nothing but warmth in my chest. Thirty minutes with the love of my life seemed to wipe clear the 18 previous hours of hell. He kept a hand on my cheek, grinning happily. 

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. And live with you. We can do so many things! We could go grocery shopping together! Or go get Ikea furniture!” He laughed happily, grinning at me, “we could get up to so much stuff.” 

“So much stuff?” I questioned with a grin.

“Shenanigans. All of them. We could prank Dream. We could scare George, he gets really jumpy, especially at night. And we could do other stuff,” he grinned, reaching a hand down to grab my butt.

I laughed, smiling lovingly at him, “We’ll definitely get up to ‘other stuff’. I know how needy you get when I leave for home.”

He kissed my cheek, “I just can’t help it. I love my baby,” he kissed my other cheek, “you know, we could get up to other stuff in Dr-”

“If you are about to suggest we fuck in Dream’s room, I’m taking a flight back home.”

He quickly closed his mouth. 

“Wow, I’m already liking this one more than you as a roommate, Sap,” Dream spoke up, standing in the doorway of what was now my room. 

“Hey, shut up,” Sapnap threw a pillow at his roommate, “What are you doing up?’

Dream shrugged, “I wasn’t asleep for long. I was editing a video til about three. Then I got woken up by some… music,” he gave Sapnap a look, and Sapnap just shrugged. 

“Hey, I had a very important job to do. My darlin’ needed cheering up.” 

Dream just nodded in understanding, “I’m gonna assume you said yes to the whole moving-in thing?” I just nodded up at him.

“Thank god, Sapnap’s been annoying us for months talking about it,” he pitched his voice up, mimicking Sapnap, “Dream, do you think it looks nice? George, what if it goes wrong? What if-”

“Okat, shut up now, good night, Dream.”

Dream rolled his eyes, “Good night, love birds. No fucking too loud. Use protection, Sapnap can’t be trusted to raise a kid yet.”

I snorted a bit, rolling my eyes,  “Good night, droommate.” 

He glared at me a bit, looking between me and Sapnap. “Oh, god, there’s two of you now.” He huffed out quietly, just shaking his head and turning around. 

I looked up at Sapnap, and we both just laughed. 

We spent the next two hours, sitting in bed and talking and planning our life together. When I finally felt the exhaustion taking over, and I finally fell asleep, it was closing in on seven A.M., and the sun was rising. But neither of us cared, more focused on the look in each other’s eyes as we fell asleep with late night “i love yous”.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Plausible

These are all the rumors and theories that have been resolved as “plausible.” These rumors/theories are ones considered true but there has been no factual evidence yet to substantiate whether they are true or false. 

(And once there is factual evidence that proves or disproves the theory, I’ll strike it from this list and move to Confirmed or Busted.)

 This post will be updated as things happen.

Plausible

Meghan may be an Epstein associate or know someone who was close to Epstein.

Meghan cheated on Trevor with Toronto hockey players.

Sussexes were sidelined during The Queen’s funeral and mourning period because of their behavior while The Queen was dying or ill.

The Sussexes’ treatment at The Queen’s funeral / during mourning was a direct consequence of their behavior during the Platinum Jubilee.

Meghan was never pregnant with Archie and Lili; used a surrogate or a gestational carrier for the pregnancies.

Meghan planned pap walks in Windsor to lay flowers at the memorials while crowds waited for William and Kate, or possibly while the royals were all still in Scotland.

Sussexes had a hand in the Ngozi Fulani/Susan Hessey racism row.

Harry’s military stories as written in Spare were not his experience. He either stole them from others he served with or embellished them.

Meghan offered to leave Harry for multimillion $$ payout from the BRF through PR articles about her net worth.

Meghan abused or mistreated dogs / pets.

Harry leaked details about RAVEC make-up, proceedings, and lawsuit to Russell Myers and royal reporters.

Harry rubbed the Oprah interview in William’s face at Philip’s funeral. (”how’d you like that comment”)

Harry was on drugs/uppers/something at the Diana statue unveiling.

Eugenie feeds stories and details about the royals and KP to the Sussexes.

Sussexes were issued an ultimatum for The Queen’s funeral: behave or be sent home.

Sophie iced Meghan during funeral/royal mourning because of her tantrum causing Sophie to miss being with The Queen before she died.

Meghan faked/made up the Toronto break-in to get Harry to publicly commit to her.

Meghan suspected of leaking about The Queen’s death to CA media before the family was ready to announce, so the family authorized unofficial sources to break the news instead to get ahead of Meghan’s CA contacts.

Meghan favors Archie, doesn’t spend any time with Lili.

Harry and Meghan were ignored by the family during The Queen’s funeral events because of their behavior while The Queen was dying that delayed most of the family and/or prevented Kate from attending/participating in certain events.

Harry and Meghan were both on something their wedding day. 

YMMV

Kate faked HG to get out of engagements / work during her pregnancies.

Meghan, Sam, Tom Sr., and Tom Jr. are all in on the grift together.

Charles to retire The Queen’s cousins (Duke of Kent, Prince Michael, Princess Alexandra, Duke of Gloucester).

No One’s Business

George is gay. (Minor child)

Meghan is actually MTF trans or intersex. (Private matter)

Kate suffered a miscarriage in 2021 around the time of Philip’s funeral. (Private matter)

Kate suffered a miscarriage in March 2022. (Private matter)

William likes to be pegged. (Consenting adults)

Kate tolerates William’s cheating as long as its just sex and not emotional. (Consenting adults)

Harry likes to be pegged. (Consenting adults)

[the-lady-general]

What was up with Una in A Quality of Mercy? It's gotten so bad that I actually sat down with Cicero's c-questions and a fresh notebook, and decided to share with the class. Beware of proper heavy spoilers for s1 SNW.

TL;DR: I think Una turned herself in to Robert April during All Those Who Wander. Encouragedby the support of Chris, La'an, Joseph and Christine she tries to become the first properly, offically commissioned Illyrian in Starfleet. And this time, she's doing it by the book. With a courtroom episode!

Una's arrest came so suddenly after sidelining her for so long that I still don't really know what to make of it, but this theory is the one that makes the most sense to me. What does everybody else think?

Here's my thought process:

What - Una was arrested for violating Starfleet's genetic manipulation directive. Which we don't have in writing. But two things stand out to me: It's a Starfleet directive they got her for, not a Federation law - so she will be tried by a court martial (as "the best first officer in the fleet") rather than a civilian court. And she was arrested, which means there was hard evidence of her altered genetics, rather than just probable cause for an investigation. There was no investigation on the Enterprise because Chris would have told us.

Where - On the Federation side of the Romulan Neutral Zone. Apart from the Enterprise, the Cayuga and the Outposts, there seems to be little in the way of civilisation, or free, independent press. Running towards the Neutral Zone is a possibility, but carries the risk of sparking a war. Communication with Earth seems to be on a delay.

How - Captain Batel arrests Una on orders from an unknown source that could include anybody from Robert April (who seems to be both hers and Chris' direct superior from ep 1) to Starfleet Intelligence, and I'm not even ruling out Harry Mudd just yet. Chris seemed completely surprised by the arrest, so he wasn't warned or informed, and from Batel's dialogue we can infer that she thought he was unaware of Una being Illyrian as well. Meaning that nobody on the Enterprise is currently under suspicion for knowingly aiding a criminal. I think it's worthy to note that Batel's ship is potentially a Sombra class - which would make her faster than Enterprise. The dramatic irony of losing two senior officers in two weeks on those ships sounds like something the showrunners would do.

When - During refitting the outposts. Chris was just having An Episode, which Una witnessed and (unless I'm reading too much into it) seemed distressed by, as if she knew she wouldn't be able to be there for him. The previous week she delivered the power cells to K-7 and was notably (suspiciously?) absent ever since. Anybody who knew she's Illyrian was on Valeo Beta V, so she had the opportunity to make her move in secret.

Who - Batel said she was acting on orders; I think Robert April is the most likely source of those orders. He knows Una and Chris personally, so he knew he'd have to outmanoeuvre Chris with the arrest. Sending his ex/fuckbuddy/girlfriend/? on a faster ship without warning certainly did the trick, and even so, Chris, captain of the flagship, came very close to becoming Starfleet's second mutineer. So who delivered the evidence to Bob? Chris (already had the opportunity to turn Una in; refused), Joseph (partner in crime; they both have dirt on each other), La'an (best friend and life debtee despite her frustration in ep 3) and Christine (ride-or-die bro; specialty in genetic manipulation adjacent field) would never rat her out. That leaves only Una herself.

Why - For the longest time the X-Files nerd in me wanted it to be a secret government cover up of the Disco/Control thing. But then Chris and Spock would have been neutralised in some way as well soon after Una. Meanwhile, Una has already turned herself in once. After the captain (rules side of things), the security chief (actual threat assessment), the CMO (ethical/medical concerns) and the nurse (general opinion/enlisted crew stand-in) all learned and accepted who she was, Una might have hoped that her wish - being welcome in Starfleet as an Illyrian rather than a Human - might come true yet. So she takes the gamble and stacks the odds in her favour: She turns herself in to her old war buddy Bob, gives him everything he needs for a court martial, and hopes to set a legal precedent for Illyrians in Starfleet. Her long-term goal would be to earn her commission officially, without having to lie about her species. And who knows? Maybe that will eventually allow the Illyrians to join the Federation as valued members.

[mandssisters]

#marcusmumford

30.11.22

Vinilo deux Southampton

As I sit here tucked up safely in my own house nursing a red bush tea. Possibly a bit tired. What a fun day that was.

The closest Mumford (no Sons) gig ever to my hometown. What joy.

The Brook. Very much the student area of Southampton city, Portswood. Not much to entertain, just the McDonalds a plant burger and worst hot chocolate in years. Unless you are a fan of Machine Mart then this is the place for you. Car parked FOC in the roadside. Winner. And yes I had two wing mirrors and all 4 wheels post show.

The Brook was special as a student of Southampton and as a fan of the band #delays #ripgreggilbert I had high hopes and they certainly didn’t disappoint.

Inside two floors, one stage and a really great venue. Well done Vinilo for hosting. Great car park announcements. “I wonder if the owner of the white Toyota could move allowing the Tyre fitters next door to lock their gates?” If it was YOU…..

Round 1

All acoustic. Possible set list?!? Got a bit lost not necessarily in this order?!

Only Child

Dangerous game

Better off high

The Cave

Dinks song

Go in light

Cowboy

How

I will wait

So much banter I can’t remember from which set…

Set times today had be been tailored around the footy start and 1/2 times

Marcus Stopped during Better off high as he saw someone on the balcony mimicking his head “tick” and pulled them up said he can’t help it! Blew a kiss to them later! 😂

Forgetting the words in the cave, Only child was a long song, and after each verse, there’s another one. Why did he write it so long?

Loves doing this tour being back in the room with everyone. 20 gigs in 16 days. Last night was Nottingham, and he got away singing a Disney song “not in Nottingham”. Which basically is a song which isn’t a fan of Nottingham, but they seem to love it, not that bright there!! Lols. With a cheeky wink.

Really good form and lovely set.

Round two. Out the venue and in again.

Very similar set list but with added Grace and Reincarnation. Which was super cute. No dinks.

*A* star rating banter.

Ryan had won a game of fifa in the break.

Loving this tour, been feeling like he has been on his holi bobs, fucking around. His hate of silence between songs. The thoughts that run through the head whilst singing. PLAY THE LOUDEST YOU CAN ON THE ACOUSTIC GUITAR….. play the quietest. Those sort of thoughts!!

It was Ryan’s birthday in the week, (and Chris Polllards) so we sang an impromptu Happy Birthday. Then explained that Alex was previously the guitar tech and was touring with (said in a sarcastic voice) Harry Styles, but now he’s dead to us. “best birthday ever” looks at Ryan. They sent a video previously from Glasgow to Alex slating him!! Gives him the v’s!! Funny

Top right of stage, a glass window viewing pane! “Is that glass”. “You got Covid” waves!! Excited crowd all wave to the seated ladies! They look like pets in a shop window, they’ve got happy lives haven’t they…. Haven’t they?

Liking Southampton, got his haircut, they also wanted to manscape the face, but that was perfect! Had a nice snack in the Woodmill cafe. No one seemed to know this cafe.

Enjoyed the two gigs today, three tomorrow, someone shouts “ka-ching” nah mate!

I found tonight’s “How” especially moving. Too short an evening but a really special evening. Same time tomorrow?

More bands need to play The Brooks it’s ace! Go if you can.

Zzzzz’ds

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Part Two)

Series: Undercover Hotch fic/series™

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader 

Word Count: 4,408 | Rated: T | Warnings: swearing, discussion of domestic abuse, possibly compromising positions(?), an almost kiss

Tropes: bedsharing, fake married, mutual pining

Chapter Summary: after holding hotch's hand for a few minutes, it wouldn't be a problem to hold it for most of the morning? because now the retreat gimmicks begin as the two of you search for information while dealing with the events.

A/N: sorry for the delay on part two -- had some family things going on this month <3. look out for part three :) Thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera for always letting me bounce ideas off of her and generally being amazing.

“Where do we start?”

The retreat lodge was larger than you imagined — with sprawling grounds that weren't just limited to the main lodging area where the couples stayed — but extended beyond to woods, hiking trails, and beyond. Hell, you glanced out the window at a nearby mountain, you wouldn’t be surprised if they owned a mountain as well.

“I have no idea,” you murmur, your arm intertwined with Hotch’s, as the two of you stepped into the lobby for the patented mix-and-mingle with the other couples before breakfast. Not only mind-numbing, soul-churning mingling — but with other couples with marital issues -- exactly what every vacation needs, “this place doesn’t seem big on technology — I haven’t seen a single computer or cellphone,”

“The front desk only has paper logs,” he shakes his head, “I asked about the lack of technology in the rooms. A noted policy of no tech — including the employees. I don’t think we are even allowed our cellphones after this breakfast.”

You scan the couples beginning to shuffle down now, “If there’s no tech here, where do you think they keep their guest and employee files?”

“I don’t think breakfast is ready yet, sweetheart,” he replies, as your gaze snaps to his cheeks burning, as you realize a couple approaching your six, “but I’m sure you won’t have to wait too much longer,”

“I’m right there with you,” the husband winks at you, his stomach shaking as he laughs even before he jokes, “if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to lose one of my only reasons for coming to this place,”

And something tells you it isn’t much of a joke either.

“But not the reason for coming here, isn’t that right, dear?” his wife assumedly smiles at you, icily, “Molly Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and you are?”

You introduce yourself, forcing a straight face on as you manage to say your alias, offering your hand, “This is my husband, Thomas,” as Hotch introduces himself to Molly’s husband, Harry, who claps your boss on the shoulder.

“So,” Harry leans in, almost clandestinely, “what are you two in for?”

“Harry!” Molly chastises him, but her eyes hook onto your expressions, her lips pursed in disapproval if only to hide her smile.

“Well, if it helps, me and the missus here need some help communicating,” he crosses his arms, shaking his head, “never learned much about that growing up,” and he elbows Hotch, “but I’m sure you can relate — we’re practically in the same generation,” And you nearly snort, trying and failing to hide your smile — which Hotch notes, as you see him shoot a small glare your way.

Harry and Molly don’t notice, too busy reprimanding her husband again, before she sighs, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “It’s just as well, we are all going to find out about each other’s problems anyway,”

And you furrow your brow, “I saw group therapy on the itinerary — is it mandatory?”

“It is,” Molly nods, “Dr. Rosen, the therapist who helped design the program, insisted on it — otherwise it would just be a vacation, not a couples retreat,” and she raises an eyebrow, “didn’t you read that in the paperwork when you signed up?”

“I did most of the paperwork,” Hotch intercedes, his fingers intertwining with yours, “my love here was busy wrapping up some loose ends for work so I ended up taking the lead on it,”

“Oh well now I know what’s wrong with you two,” Harry chuckles, as Molly elbows him again, half-heartedly, as he gestures to you, coffee in hand, “you wear the pants in the relationship, got that one wrapped around your finger, now don’t you? Not surprising, with the age gap and all--” as he looks you up and down, winking at Hotch, as you gape at him, “nicely done, sir.”

Your blood begins to boil, several insults picked out and fine-tuned on your tongue as you open your mouth, “Well—”

“We’re working on it,” Hotch clears his throat, jerking his head toward the now ready breakfast buffet, “Harry, it looks like—”

“Food’s on!” and he’s scurrying away to the table, as his wife follows suit, giving both of you a nod, as you glare at his retreating back.

“Food fucking saved his life,” and your eyes slide back to Hotch, as he gestures for you to head over to the breakfast table, “and so did you,”

“Well, I figured you murdering someone on our first day here would attract some unwelcome attention,” he steers you away from the direction of the Chapmans, his hand now slipping around your waist, and you do your best to ignore the flip of your heart, focusing on the fancy finger foods the retreat put out for breakfast, until you feel Hotch’s fingers drum on the small of your back, “do you see that?”

You glance at him, following his gaze until your eyes fall on a door that says ‘Employees’ Only’ around the corner, the manager slipping through the door, locking it behind him. You glance away nonchalantly, helping yourself to some mini-breakfast sandwiches and some fruit, “Do you think they keep the employee files?”

“Maybe,” he breathes in your ear, as he reaches over your shoulder to grab some food, making you shiver at the closeness, “but how do we—”

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the foyer, sweeping arms as he steps forward cutting through the dining room, “Please everyone take a seat. Help yourself to some breakfast.”

You both make your way to a table, and Hotch pulls out your chair for you, giving a small smile, as he takes his seat beside you.

“I hope you all are beginning to get to know each other, but that is not all you will be getting to know today,” he clasps his hands, he bared his teeth with his fake white smile, “I am Richard Rosen, and I will be guiding you through your time during this six-week retreat, where you are not only going to learn about our facilities, about mindfulness, and about yourselves,” his eyes scan the crowd smiling, “you’re going to learn about each other.'

Oh, how wonderful.

You had read up about this guy last night — went to Harvard — Harvard College in Indiana, and got his certification in Psychology after four weeks of surely intense training. After that, he opened his own practice in New York City, which folded after several complaints ranging from sexual harassment to fraud. Unfortunately for his clients (and fortunately for him), there wasn’t enough evidence to get his lack-luster certification yanked. He then moved from city to city, learning from his mistakes, and never stuck to the same city for long enough for someone to catch onto his treatment packaged charade. Until eventually, he settled upon White Mountains Retreat, where he was allowed to stay in one place, but with a revolving door of patients.

He was one of your suspects — no record, but had easy access to the couples, and intimate knowledge of their relationships.

"But our time will begin together tomorrow,” he beams at all of you, “Right now, I'm going to pass it over to the man who you will be coordinating your incredibly list of daily activities during your stay here — the man responsible for all the wonderful memories you will make — Mr. Brock Hillen," Rosen steps aside, welcoming Hillen to take over, and he doesn’t wait a beat, checking his watch before disappearing down a hall.

“Where’d he go?” you murmur, and Hotch shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” Hotch murmurs, lips barely moving, “but do you see that?”

And you spot cuts on Brock’s arms before he tugs the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it, “Could be consistent with causing those injuries our victims,”

And Brock Hillen was no less suspicious than Rosen — with a criminal record to match. With two charges of domestic assault, Hillen already had a history of violence with his ex-wife, but since she divorced him, he has had no other charges. Yet, because of his record, he went job to job, until he found himself as the Activities Coordinator of White Mountain. Could it be that his rage over his wife leaving him led to the murders? Maybe something in the last few weeks that triggered it.

“Hello all!” he greets, holding his arms out, his fake blonde hair nearly blinding under the bright light of the chandelier that hangs above him, “thank you Richard, for that all too kind introduction,” he begins his spheal on the healing nature of the resort, the efforts of his team in coordinating the next six weeks for them, and you begin to lose interest around his third sentence with the word “enchant” in it.

And your eyes can’t help but slide to Hotch a moment, whose arm rests on your lower back still, the metal of his watch gently pressed against your shirt, and you swear his thumb brushes against your spine. You almost want to brush it away, his touch is so gentle, so sweet, so intentional, but it wasn’t — it wasn’t.

“For our first event,” and now you’re blinking back to Brock — to the reason you were here — to catch a killer, “I’m going to have you do one of the very things that Richard mentioned — an activity that will allow you to you learn more about yourselves and each other,” and he gestures around you, “as well as the grounds themselves,” Other employees start handing the couples a clipboard, “your task will be to get each of your stamps from around the retreat — this obviously includes our grounds and other facilities, including our spa, chapel, gardens, and so on.”

“Seems like a perfect opportunity to look around,” you murmur — as Hotch takes the clipboard, flipping through the scavenger hunt -- at least there wasn’t some cheesy shtick to this activity.

“To symbolize the journey you all will be embarking on together as couples, you must complete the task hand-in-hand,” Brock brings his two hands together, “please, there will be staff all over the facilities, if you need a hint, feel free to ask, and I will be here as well to provide any assistance,” he gestures to employees behind the couples, “now, at the sound of the gong—”

At the sound of the what—

And then a loud crash fills the air, rattling your eardrums, making you jump, “Take each other’s hand, and begin!”

Couples begin scattering about, pulling each other along — you spot Molly dragging Harry away from the breakfast table.

And Hotch rises beside you, offering you his hand, clipboard in his other hand, “Ready?”

You glance from him to his hand.

Probably not, but— your fingers intertwine with his, his calloused fingers warm, and the cool metal of his band brushing against your skin—

“Ready.”

What other choice did you have?

~~~

“How many more do we have?” So far, the first few stamps have taken you all around the other facilities — the spa, the garden, the sauna — but none inside the retreat center itself. Not a single one had given you a change to find where the files were kept in this place.

“Two more left,” he murmurs, “I assume the last one will take us back into the main building, so the other must be—”

“At the chapel,” you glance at the map of the place you were handed by an employee who took pity on you two after you had wandered around the grounds — completely lost, “at least we don’t have to bother figuring out the riddles now,”

“You mean you don’t need to bother,” you shake your head, “i’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as the two of you stroll towards the chapel, everyone else out of earshot, “the first day can be—”

“No, it’s not that,” you look around the grounds, and you resist the urge to flex your fingers, but he notices you tense — and you know he would drop your hand but he can’t, so he steps away a little, “It’s not you—”

“But it’s you?” he chuckles, as you bite your lip, “I know it’s a lot,” he sighs, as you two reach the chapel, a relatively small building built on top of a hill. It’s a white marble building, its one spire splitting the sky above it asunder, practically gleaming in the sunlight. The double mahogany doors are drawn open for the couples, another just leaving as you two arrive. You watch him stare up at the chapel, “it is for me too.”

You frown, as the employees at the entrance greet you, and direct you to sit near the front together for a few minutes — to take solace in the quiet before you receive your stamp. Hotch hands them the clipboard as you both wander down the aisle together.

The aisles are lined with white pews, light streaming through beautiful stained glass windows. Your footsteps echoed against the stone floor. You step and sit into the pew beside Hotch, sitting back a moment. The chapel itself had no denomination — it was clear it was made for the sake of religious and non-religious functions — likely an intentional choice not to exclude any religion or atheists for that matter.

After all, money was money in their eyes.

You two are quiet a moment, your hands still interlaced for the sake of the employees still watching the two of you, “I think for me,” your voice low, “it’s just weird to be this close with anyone,”

“You mean physically or?” you shrug.

“It’s part of it — it has been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you purse your lips, “but like you said, it’s hard for me to let someone see me, like all of me,” and you glance at him, “and it’s hard when you’re literally the leader of a team of, you know.”

“I know,” he leans against the back of the pew, “it’s impossible to hide things from the team even when when we don’t spend every minute with them, and now that we’re spending the all of the next six weeks together--”

“There won’t be much we can do to hide,” you nod, looking down at the floor.

And that was what scared you the most.

The employees hand you back the clipboard at that moment, excusing you both back, and the two of you step out of the chapel, “I just want you to know,” you say, as the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, “you don’t have to hide anything from me,” and he raises an eyebrow, as you add, “if you don’t want to.”

“Do most people hide anything because they really want to?”

“No I meant,” you chew your lip, “This is probably hard for you, and I don’t want to act like I know what you’re going through — I don’t,” you would never deign to think you knew what it was like to lose your the love of your life, your best friend, and mother of your child in one fell swoop, “but you don’t have to pretend,” not with me, you want to add, but you don’t — you can’t.

He blinks a moment, eyebrows raising only for a millisecond, before he sighs, “It’s easier to pretend,” he presses his lips together, as another couple approaches, “and that’s what we’re here to do,” and he begins to walk forward, gently pulling you along, as your cheeks burn, your head fixed on the ground, until he adds, “but I appreciate it,” and you meet his gaze, several emotions in his eyes, before he tears it away, “thank you.”

You don’t get to respond, as the two of you step inside to find only most of the couples still hadn’t returned yet — still collecting the last of the stamps, and most of the staff floating around the grounds to corral and nudge stragglers along. And their absence left an opportunity.

So you glance around, before tugging a distracted Hotch along, wandering around a corner, “What—”

And you grab him by the shoulder, pinning him to the wall, cheeks burning all the while, not daring to meet his gaze, but its just the same because you hear the small gasp of your name that leaves his lips in a whisper, and his body tenses against your palm.

You lean up closer, before slowly craning your neck around the corner, “We’re a couple at a retreat looking to sneak away,” you murmur, lips barely moving, as you lean closer, nose brushing his neck — god he smells good — but you refuse to let your lips brush against his skin, “or that’s what it will look like to anyone.”

His tenseness melts away, and he’s pliable to your touch, as your fingers graze his neck now, your thumb resting against his cheek, as he stares down at you — so adoringly as you tug him by the shirt away from the wall, following you with such ease.

You’re next to the employees only door — your fingers reach for the knob, turning — “It’s locked,” you murmur, and his brow furrows, as you cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to the lock.

And he’s spinning you around gently so that you’re pressed to the wall, your breath catching in your throat, as he looms over you, his fingers cupping your chin. His arm around your back, pulling your lower half close to him, but he’s holding the door knob in place while he tries to pick it with his other hand.

Your cheeks burn as he looks down on you, his gaze freezing you in place, far too close — his breath warming your lips, taking the breath from your lungs and replacing your blood with lava. And you can see so clearly — the cut of his jaw, the soft lines of his face, and the curve of his lips—

And then the lock clicks open.

He’s turning the knob, as you spare one glance over your shoulder to see if anyone sees either of you, but then the door is shutting behind you. You feel the wall for a light switch, and you flick it on, while you hear the click of the door locking again.

And you blink, a glorified break room — a few tables and a basic refrigerator stuck in the corner, a worn couch stuck against a wall, and a sink stuck in the corner with a subpar dish rack — far from the accolades that were in each guest’s room — but then again, the employees weren’t paying through the nose for the rooms.

You two stay close, as your eyes scan for anything that could be a camera — even one that isn’t obvious — placed in a smoke detector or lamp shade, “No cameras,” he pulls away, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat, tucking away the embarrassment to dwell on another time (likely right before when you’re trying to sleep).

But then again, the guests weren’t the ones working 18 hour shifts on their feet.

Hotch calls for you, pointing towards a few file drawers stuck in the corner, and the two of you head over, running your finger down the label on the drawers, “These are all client records — administrative, financial — nothing on the employees.”

“They must keep the employee records somewhere else that employees don’t have access to,” and you’re rifling through the folders, for something — anything.

“I haven’t seen any other employee areas,” you shut the drawers, and then you glance around, your eyes falling on another door in the corner of the room — “unless—”

“It must be Rosen and Hillen’s offices,” you walk over, reading the placard — Administration Offices, “locked?”

“This isn’t something that can be picked easily,” Hotch shakes his head, “it has a bump guard — it prevents—”

“--lock bumping,” and Hotch looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you my reason if you you tell me yours,

He snorts, “I learned it sometime between 6th grade and military school,” and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, “my father — he—”

“You don’t have to—” you shake your head, “unless you want to—”

“I’ll just say, it wasn’t a good childhood,” he raises to his feet.

And you can’t help but give a small smile, “But look at how well you turned out,” and he’s shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Hotch,” you make him meet your gaze, “you’re a good man — don’t doubt that.”

His eyes meet yours again, warm, as he looks away to the floor for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching, “Thank you,” he breathes, and he’s stepping forward, “I—”

And then the doorknob is jiggling. Your heads snap to the door, before looking back to each other.

Shit.

Before you know it, his wrist is around yours, and he’s tugging you to the couch, as you fall backwards onto the soft cushions. He’s halfway kneeling between your legs, his body draped over you, and he’s leaning closer, murmuring an apology as he lips draw close to yours, “Hotch—”

And then the door is opening, as his lips nearly brush yours, “Hey!”

An employee stares at the both of you, as you both stumble to your feet, adjusting your clothes, “This is employees only — what are you—”

“Sorry!” you yelp, jumping to your feet, “so sorry,” and you brush past them, Hotch following at your heels.

And the two of you find your way back to the lobby, your heart still in your throat, as you tug on your clothes, “Thanks for the —” your cheeks burn, “I mean, good thinking—” you shake your head, "you know what I mean."

He snorts, his fingers finding yours again, giving them a slight squeeze, "Anytime," and your heart oh-so-helpfully skips a beat, tongue-tied, but luckily you don't have to response as Hotch glances at you, "you never did tell me how you learned about lock picking."

You shrug, “I have a checkered past,”

“That’s not much of an answer,” and you shoot him a half-smile.

“I have to keep you interested somehow don’t I?” you reply right as Brock begins to speak again.

The event wraps up with another talk from Brock — who has an employee approach him towards the end of his talk, whispering in his ear, and he nods, waving him off, “and one last thing — I know you all came to rejuvenate your marriages and partnerships through this retreat and we fully encourage you to do so but—” you swallow thickly, realizing just which employee must have whispered in his ear right then, “please refrain from doing so in restricted areas that are not for our guests.”

You cannot even bear to look at Hotch, keeping your gaze straight ahead, grabbing a drink on the tray, and sipping at it — and you wondered if you were masking your mortification well.

Probably fucking not.

~~~

Brock then adjourns them for the rest of the day — not wanting to “overwhelm them” on day one (or rather padding their time here with nothingness) — welcoming them to have their meal in the dining facilities or up in the rooms.

Most people head off to their rooms, while others linger in the lobby — chatting amongst themselves — he spots Harry rushing off to the dining facilities, his wife in tow.

The rest of the day goes off without much to-do. Hotch glances around — not a single thing of note learned about the guests or the staff. The other couples are all sociable to some extent — some more reserved than others, but none of them fit the unsub’s types so far — placing you two directly in the paths of the unsub.

By the time it’s time for bed, his body is aching for nothing but sleep — and it looked like you had the same idea. Already slipped under the covers, you’re curled up, half-asleep as your eyes flutter heavy with sleep.

Neither of you felt the need to stand guard in the room — the doors were securely locked for each of the couples, and the team was monitoring the situation at the local precinct. But you both kept your weapons close by — concealed in case someone happened to find their way in.

“Are you asleep?” Hotch whispers, and you mumble, shaking your head, turning to glance at him — your shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

“Is something going on?”

And he shakes his head, “No, sorry,” and you relax back in bed, but your lips still pursed, “I just hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier,” and you tilt your head — and he almost smiles at your sleep-induced confusion.

“Earlier?” and then it floods back to you — as you blink, glancing away from him, “oh—”

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want you to think I was—”

“Hotch, I know you weren’t,” you slowly sit up, “if you hadn’t done that, I think we would have been on our way home on our first day,” you chuckle, “and I know you wouldn’t take advantage — especially when we have a job to do.”

Right, a job, he chides himself, It was a job.

“If you want to sleep—”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” you yawn, turning around and getting comfortable again, “good night, Hotch.”

And he looks at you, a small sigh parting his lips — until he finally settles in bed beside you.

His arm resting across his forehead, he glances at you again. He had spent so much of today holding your hand, his fingers nearly flexing at the memory. It had been so long since he had held someone’s hand, so long since he had worn a ring on his finger, so long since he called someone his partner.

It felt so nice.

Nice — not only because he hadn’t realized how much he had missed having someone, someone beside him, someone there — but because —

Because it was you.

And he knew that because — he didn’t want to let go of your hand.

[lovelylonlyworldd]

The Outfit Helper

Y/n’s friend Harry helps her choose clothes for the evening. The tension between the two “friends” only grows thicker…

word count: 1.2k

___

“Omg, have you been here for long?” Harry was standing in front of my door, arms crossed on his chest, waiting patiently.

“A while.”

“I'm so sorry! My flight got delayed and then-”

“It’s fine.” He interrupted with a chuckle. “We still have time, dinner’s not until 7.”

“Right.” 

My key turned in the lock and the door opened. As I turned around to grab my luggage, Harry already had it in. He smiled and waved with his hand to shoo me into my apartment.

“I need to change. Ah, and maybe I need a quick shower too, my hair’s a mess!” I turned around and came to face him, making him stop in his tracks, only a few inches in front of me. I had to turn my face up to meet his eyes as he towered above me. 

“I think your hair looks good.” His words were spoken low and soft, like a prayer into the night. For a second, there was something in the air between us, something nebulous but electric. I could feel his breath on my skin as his compliment tingled sweetly in my chest. I was scared to move and break the something that surrounded us. The something that made my stomach flutter.

“Thank you…Well…I’ll be in my bedroom.” I looked away and continued: “Fuck, what am I gonna wear?” It was said more to myself. Before I could relish too much in my friend's presence, I turned around and headed towards my destination.

“I’ll help you.” I stopped and did another 180, now facing him again.

“What?”

“I’ll help you pick out something to wear.” Harry looked at me without any humor. But I smiled in disbelief – his request was slightly amusing to me. I knew he was interested in fashion and but this wasn’t stuff we usually did together. But maybe it’d be fun. Everything with Harry was fun.

“Okay.” 

~~~

“I guess you can look through my stuff and see if there’s something you like. I- Fuck!” The ringtone from my phone interrupted my instructions. 

“You can just start without me.” I went back to the hallway to get the ringing little piece of crap that I’d left in my purse.

“Hello y/n!” My sister's voice sounded through the speaker. Sigh.

“Lily, I’ll call you back later, okay?” I had no will to talk to her at the moment. Harry’s pursuit to be my personal stylist was much more interesting. But my sister igonered my attempt to a goodbye and just started telling me about some guy she met (because that information was apparently incredibly urgent).

I reentered my bedroom to find the fashionista himself in front my dresser. I walked towards him, phone still against my ear – Lily was going full in on the storytime. He was just about to open the second drawer when the notion of what was inside dawned over me and made my heart skip a beat. The drawer was however oppen before I could do anything about it.  I stood frozen, my sister babeling on. Harry was now staring down at my underwear – my lace panties, my lingerie. No, no, no! This was horrible, incredibly awkward. He just cleared his throat and I hung up on her.

“That’s not…” He closed it before I could finish the sentence. Embarrassment burned my cheeks red. Harry didn’t look half as bothered. Perhaps it wasn’t a big deal – everyone had underwear. 

“Maybe you don’t have to choose all of my clothes.” I joked. Harry only smirked – why on god's green earth did he smirk? 

“Bummer.” He quickly murmured. I didn’t think it was possible but my cheeks burned even hotter now – you could fry an egg on there for all I know. What was with him? It’s almost annoying how he could make me feel so…flustered. I’m convinced he does it on purpose. 

“I have dresses and stuff over there.” I said, and pointed towards my wardrobe, partly to escape his gaze and partly to get back to business – we did have a dinner to attend.

“Right.”

 ~~~

He’d carefully examined most of my garments before deciding on a final outfit. The top he chose looked like it came straight from the 60s with its jewel neckline and flowers. I’d always be too cowardly to wear it – it was very in your face with its bright colors. But it was of course right on brand for Harry. And with it he paired a short black skirt and boots.

“Put it on!” He sounded eager as he urged me. I did as he said and placed my hands around the end of my hoodie, dragging it over my head. When I got it off, Harry was still looking at me – to my surprise.

“Are you gonna turn around or…?” His eyes went big and he almost jumped at my words, as if I had just woken him from some type of trance. I heard a quick “sorry” as he turned. I chuckled at him and I proceeded to put on the rest of the clothes, with my newfound privacy. 

“Harry, I’m done.” He turned back to observe the outfit.

“Hmm…Give me a quick spin.” I laughed at his demeanor, unable to tell if he was serious or not as he closely inspected me, eyes squinted and with his fingers on his chin, pinching an imaginary beard. But yet I spun around, as he said. 

“Don’t you think the skirt is too short? Where did they say we were going now again? This is too slutty for somewhere fancy.” I asked, it was shorter than i remember, ending only like an inch under my ass.

“It’s fine. Besides, I don’t mind you being slutty.” What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He continued: “Oh, and I thought you could wear these too. Found them on your dresser.” He whipped out a pair of golden earrings from his pockets.

“Alright.” 

“Can I put them on?” As he asked, his face softened. He took a step towards me, holding the earrings out.

“Sure…” 

For some reason, my breath hitched when he got even closer. I reasoned that it was because his warm scent flooded the air around me, and swept into my lungs like thick smoke. And when his hand acsedentaly grazed my neck as he took my hair to the side, I almost shivered from his cold rings. Slowly he put the earrings on, one after the other. It felt like he really took his time. But I didn’t mind lingering in his close presence.

He backed up when he was done, to inspect me yet again. 

“You’re beautiful y/n.” It was said with such sencerency that I had to look away from him. This whole complimenting me thing had really gotten over the line today. God knows there’s only so many you can take in a day, especially from Harry – he’d flustered me again. 

“Thanks,” I managed. “You too.” A smile spread across his face with my words. 

“I think I did a pretty good job, no?”

“Mmm…” Of course he had.

“You should hire me.”

“Perhaps. Not if you’re gonna stare at me while I change again. ” He laughed. 

“Couldn't help it.” 

I blushed.

[farfromharry]

oooh could you do 21+22 out of the touching prompts pllsss ;)

Summary: tom loves it when you sleep on him.

Tom Holland x reader

w/c 451

touching prompts - 21. kissing the other’s brow, 22. falling asleep on the other’s shoulder. 

Delayed flights were possibly the worst thing ever. Having to sit in an airport for hours on end when you could’ve been in an exotic location already enjoying your holiday and time in the sun. That was unfortunately exactly what had happened to you and Tom.

The pair of you had planned to go on a romantic getaway, seeing as the last year had been stressful for the both of you with all the work you’d been having to do, resulting in less and less time spent together. The plan was to just enjoy yourselves, and each other, in the sun for a few weeks, but now that was being delayed due to the shitty weather conditions in London. 

“You okay?” he asked, hand coming up to brush through your hair lovingly. “‘M tired,” you mumbled, eyes feeling heavier by the minute. 

Tom had already wrapped his jacket around you like a blanket, making you feel all warm and cosy. You were cuddled into his side too, his arm around you, the other settled in your hair and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to drift off right in the middle of the waiting area of the airport. “Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggested, seeing no issue with letting you sleep on him. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

It did sound good, you were really tired, but part of you felt bad for basically leaving Tom alone, having no one to talk to for who knows how long while you were unconscious. “Are you sure?” you asked, nuzzling your face against his bicep. His heart fluttered seeing you so sleepy against him. The man never had any issue telling you that sleepy you was one of his favourite you’s. 

“Course, I don’t mind.” With that confirmation you were laying your head down on Tom's shoulder, tucked away in the crook of his neck comfortably. He helped move you to his lap to maximise your comfort, plus allowing him to wind his arms around you to hold you tightly while you slept. 

He waited for a few minutes to see if your breathing evened out, and for a minute he thought it had. He ducked his head down closer to your face, placing a sweet kiss on the arch of your brow, mumbling a quiet goodnight against your skin. He didn’t know that you had yet to fall completely unconscious until he saw the small, sleepy grin growing on your lips, alerting him that you’d felt the tiny bit of affection. 

So maybe your flight and your romantic trip had been delayed, and delayed flights suck, but all Tom needed was you and everything would be just as perfect. 

tom holland taglist → @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @sinisterspidey @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys-blog @itstaskeen @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @kujokura @l0velyevans @jess-holland23 @celestialholland @moonlight-onyx @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @bora-world @annathesillyfriend @lovableparker @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @messedupmyfuckinglife @bi-lmg @londonspidey @multixfandomwriter @mrsholland96 @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream @hallecarey1 @aayaissaa @jacksnoodles @cedricdiggorysimpp

[wizkiddx]

this deleted itself but the req was for an ill reader who likes to try and carry on even if they feeling shit and tom noticing I think?!?

Summary:  you take start to feel a bit shit  at toms family barbecue and get caught out and taken care of

///////////

It should've be lovely, an evening in the rare but much appreciated British summer sun in Dom and Nikki’s garden. Everyone was there; all the Holland boys; both sets of Tom’s grandparents; Haz and his long time girlfriend Lucie. It was a reunion of sorts, although no one had been away working, you’d somehow all timed your individual holidays simultaneously. You and Tom to Australia; Sam and Harry to south-east Asia; Paddy, Dom and Nikki to Sweden. Having all returned in the space of a week, everyone was catching up, involving great British barbecues (which are always a little disappointing) and a fair amount of booze.

You were sat on the garden furniture with Tessa (Tom’s grandma), Nikki and Lucie. Very much a ‘girl power’ meeting if ever there was - which in a family full of boys was often needed just to keep the peace. Everything about the evening was lovely… except perhaps your body. God knows why, because you rarely got ill - having not had a day off work in two years. As much as you’d been trying to push away the slow creeping feeling for a couple of hours - it was now getting impossible to ignore. The slightly unsettled feeling in your stomach had you fidgeting in the wooden chair constantly, trying to ease it by shifting positions... to no avail.

“Y/n… Y/n?” Looking up to see three pairs of beady eyes trained on you, you faked a smile, looking over to Nikki who had been calling your name. “Tess was asking how long the flight back was?” “Oh sorry, was miles away!” You tried to cover, shifting once again, this time pressing a hand to your lower abdomen in the hope that’d distract you as you turned slightly to make eye contact with Tessa. “And I think 11 hours ish.” The girls all pulled a grimacing face in sympathy, to which you chuckled at. “No no honestly cos Tom spoiled me completely so we were in the fancy seats, I honestly was spark out of it the whole time!”

It was enough of a response for the girls to all nod, carrying on the conversation as you, now not the main focus, rubbed your pulsing temple with your other hand - in the hope to relieve some of the building pressure. Clearly, though, you weren’t a subtle as you thought - since Lucie got your attention by bumping your shoulder and leaning in closely. “Come to the loo with me?” It sounded like a question, though it very much wasn’t - the stern look in her eye enough to scare you into agreeing. With a word to Nikki and Tess, you both stood up and made your way to the inside, not stopping until you were locked into the thankfully spacious downstairs loo - the brunette eyeing you intently. “You look like shit.” “Thanks Luc, that’s exactly what I needed to hear right now.” You sighed, sitting on top of the closed lidded loo heavily. “What’s up?” Her tone was harsh and to the point, but secretly there was a look of worry in her eyes. She was one of your best mates but sometimes could also scare you shitless. “I think I’m just tired, it’s my stomach and my head, I’ll be fine.”

Lucie didn't really seem to believe you, but respected your stubbornness and after providing you with two paracetamol capsules from her bag, she let you off - both going back into the garden, where, by now Sam was plating up the slightly charred burgers.

Naturally, you’d sat next to Tom, who had pulled your chairs right next to each other - so that his leg was pressed up against yours, his arm pulled around your shoulder. That was just Tom, away from the prying eyes of the public and media, he really was an affectionate person. He just liked to feel you there. God knows how long you all sat in those same positions, but it was long enough for the sun to set. In fact, you most definitely weren’t the person to ask, because at some point, unbeknownst to you, you’d zoned out. Nobody had noticed, under the cover of the low sunset light, until Tom felt your head briefly fall against his shoulder before it shot up once again - your eyes blinking heavily.

He frowned at the sight, seeing you huddle your arms across your body, which was bizarre due to the unbelievable hot weather in London. Yes, it might have shifted into nighttime, but it was still at least 24 degrees. So as his Dad had the entire table captivated recounting some long and complex tale of his touring days, Tom took the opportunity to squeeze your shoulder - grabbing your attention.

“You alright love?” In response you just hummed, eyes shifting up to him after a little delay - similar to how your reflexes became stunted with alcohol, though Tom suddenly realised you’d barely had more than half the glass of beer he’d poured you when you’d both arrived. “ I’said are you okay?” “Yeh… yeh I’m fine.” You forced a small tight lipped smile, whilst Tom took his arm that was round his shoulder to rest on the crown of your head before slowly stroking down your hair. “Sure? You seem a little out of it?” He pushed, still in a whisper so as not to draw attention to the two of you. “Maybe just tired.” Flat out lying, you shifted back into the backrest of the chair a little more making his hand accidentally land on your forehead rather than your hairline. He didn't move it though, instead sitting and swivelling in his chair, pressing the other side of his hand to the skin as well. “You’re burning up Y/n/n” he spoke a little louder - eyes full of concern as he looked you up and down. “No I’m a bit cold if anythin-“

That was when Nikki, from across the other side of the table got involved. She’d obviously been silently observing the two of you, now feeling the need to send you both home. “Oh, we forgot dessert! Tom, Y/n would you mind helping me bring it out?” Thank god for Nikki, for finding a cover story and stopping everyone's eyes on you. Because for someone dating, three years deep, an A-lister - you hated any sort of attention, even from those closest to you. Especially sympathy, you had absolutely no time at all for that.

Leading you into the kitchen with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, Tom waited till the door was shut before turning to you.- claiming you were boiling and looked not so great. “I’m just a bit cold if I can borrow one of sam’s jumpers then-“ “Love, please go home.” Nikki interrupted as she wormed past Tom to put her own hand on your forehead too. “You’ve got the chills and you’ve not been normal all day. Am I right or am I right?” She was the worst to argue against. That was completely due to the fact she was always right. With a defeated nod from you, she clicked her tongue, pushing you to sit down on one of the barstools. “Tom go get a jumper from Sam’s room and order a taxi, I would drive but we’ve all been drinking.” “I can just go back by myself T, you don’t get to see your grandparents a lot and -“ “I love you but please please shut up.” Having rounded the back of your chair he pressed his lips to your temples as confirmation before scurrying off to the back of the house.

“You know he doesn’t mind at all? My son never was at my beckon call like he is with you.” There was a little smile teasing the corner of her lips as Nikki placed a glass of water in front of you, as though instructing you to take small sips. “I just feel bad, he’s always telling me how he regrets not spending more time with all of you and… well I’ve had him to myself for the fortnight in South Africa.” “Your just as much a part of the family as me or his grandparents are okay? Now when you get home..”

Nikki switched the tone to then list off all manners of ways that you needed to look after yourself once back, which she then repeated as soon as Tom returned with a black hoodie that you gratefully pulled over your head.

//////////////

By the time you got home, you were feeling so incredibly shit you weren’t even considering keeping up your brave face. Tom had wordlessly led you up the path to your shared home, unlocking the door and telling you to go straight to bed.

Perhaps he was so concerned because in the whole three years together he’d never ever seen you ill. Yes, the odd headache or whatever, as well as the occasional morning after the night before when you’d opted for a ‘tactical chunder’ to try and protect your modesty. But other than that, you were always the one being sympathetic to him. When he was tired, both emotionally and mentally from work; when he hurt his knee and was on forced bed rest for a couple of days ( which turns out to be the hardest time for you too, dealing with the whiny and fidgety boy man).

He came up a couple of minutes later, by which point you’d already pulled joggers on and wrapped yourself as tightly in the duvet as physically possible. If felt so bloody cold your teeth were actually chattering as you curled up into the smallest ball possible. In his hands was a small tray, carrying a steaming mug; a collection of all the different pill packets you kept in the medicine cabinet (as Tom himself had no idea which one was right so decided to use them all); a hot water bottle and what looked like a damp towel, all scrunched up.

No matter how shitty you felt you had a smile at how sweet and doting Tom was being... and as much as you hated the sympathy - if it was always given by a ripped and beautiful brunette with the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen… well just maybe you could get used to it. After snatching the hotwater bottle up immediately, then letting Tom fuss over you in every which way he wanted you gave in, losing the ability to entertain his puppy energy.

“Can we just go to sleep please?” You whined, which Tom nodded to - quickly getting changed and ready before joining you in bed.

As soon as he felt the way the bed was practically vibrating with the chills you were suffering from, he pulled you up into his chest. Now you had both your own personal heater and a hot water bottle to try and warm you up. “You wake me up if you need anything kay?”

Pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, which was nestled between his shoulder and neck. “Promise me ‘kay?” Him needing the reinforcement caused you to arch back up, looking deep into his brown eyes with the warm glow of his bedside table lamp. “You’re too good to me Tommy.” He tutted at that, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

“Oh no” He whispered exclaimed, making you immediately ask him what in response. “I think this fever is making you go all delusional love.” You quirked your head, causing him to continue with a cheeky grin. “Well for one, nothing would be too good for you darling and two…. When the hell have you ever called me ‘Tommy’” With him chuckling at his own joke, you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness, firmly planting your head back on his shoulder as if to shut him up. “Alright, I’ll let you off just this once cos your all feverish… get some sleep love.” “Thankyou Tommy.” “Shh love.”

And that’s how you fell asleep, finally finding a bit of warmth in Tom’s arms.

Safe to say he very much didn’t sleep so well. Yes, you felt cold - but Tom was bloody boiling. Still he didn't move because if you were comfortable, his discomfort didn’t matter. It was also a physical impossibility for him to relax until he felt (yes, technically not the most scientific way) your fever coming down. Every five minutes or so he’d gently press the back of his hand to your forehead. This boy was so whipped for you... but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~feedback is really really appreciated~~~~

taglist for tom: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8

[absolutelyfizzing]

hole-y

George x reader angst/fluff

description - Y/N and the Order head out to deliver Harry to the burrow on the night of his seventeenth birthday. Chaos ensues and when you reach the burrow, you couldn't be more thankful for your friends and family being safe.

warnings - minor talk of gore and injuries, death, general warning for george being an absolute angel. Fem pronouns and reader gets picked up

A/N - so this is the first time ive posted in like months i think which is a little crazy, im so sorry for the delay. This is something that i just really wanted to write, i will be posting some requested writings soon as well as hopefully some more writings outside of just harry potter and marvel. 

word count - about 3600

MASTERLIST

You were terrified. The feeling in the pit of your stomach made you want to cry but you pushed it down. There were bigger matters at hand. Bigger things to worry about. One of those things being the possibility of you never seeing your best friend or your boyfriend again. The thought made you shake and when you looked over at Fred and George you knew they were thinking the same thing.

You had been friends with the twins since as long as you could remember. Well actually, you had disliked them when you first met them, they were much too loud for you to get along with and they frustrated you to no end but you somehow had all of you classes and activities with them. They accidentally let loose a prank on you in your third year and you screamed at them before going up to the astronomy tower and crying. They followed you a few minutes later and apologized and sat with you until you stopped crying. Actually they stayed with you until they could make you laugh. From then on, you had a soft spot for the twins and the same happened to them.

You didn't know when you started to have romantic feelings for George, he always said that he started to feel something for you when he was in fifth year and you sneezed so hard you made a nearby owl fly away. You thought that was rather ridiculous but it made you blush all the same. You started dating in sixth year when Fred nearly shoved you two into a closet and told you he wouldn't let you out until you talked to each other about your feelings. Since then you had been the happiest you had ever been in your life and you were forever thankful to Fred who took 100% credit for your relationship. They were your family, all the Weasley's were. Now, looking at everyone you loved in a room, you felt worry rise in your throat. No, worry wasn't the right word. Terror.

George pulled you into his side and he kissed the top of your head deeply.

"I love you. You don't have to do this." He mumbled into your hair and you sighed.

"You know just as well as I do that we both have to do this. It's okay, I'll be with Moody. He won't let anything happen to me." You muttered and then turned so your face was pressed into his chest. "But I love you too." You whispered and a tear fell from your face and into George's shirt. You then pulled away and pulled Fred into a hug. He groaned dramatically.

"No, I'm hugging you. No complaining." You grumbled and he complied, his hand going around your back and smoothing out your hair. You knew he was looking at George, some sort of twin telepathy going between them but you didn't care. When you pulled away, both of them smiled gently at you. Then before you knew it, the polyjuice potion was being passed around. You gave one last look at George and drank the potion and he did as well. It was the worst tasting thing you'd consumed in a long time and as you were keeping yourself from throwing up at the taste you felt yourself get a bit taller. You looked to your side to see two more harry's. You smiled at them and began to change your clothes.

You had agreed to go as Harry with Moody, Mundungus would also be there as himself. You had decided to switch last minute. You all walked out of the house as the minutes ticked by waiting for Harry's protection charm to end. Eventually you all were off with one last longing glance at George.

The battle was one that would haunt you for the rest of your life. As soon as you left there were death eaters on you. All you could do was hold onto your broom for dear life, Moody on the broom behind you and Mundungus on a separate broom right next to you. Before you could think, there was green all around you and screaming from every direction. You just focussed on getting to the Weasley's, a route you knew by heart, and let Moody do the protecting. At some point you looked to your right and Mundungus was gone. When you looked to your left you were horrified to see the dark lord flying next to you. Tears came to your eyes at the realization that you would probably not be making it out of there. Moody quickly began sending spells his way but it was not an even fight. He held off Voldemort for an impressive amount of time but all good things end. You heard the killing curse and saw the green light and you expected it to hit you, you were the target. Somehow Moody got in front of you to stop you from getting hit and you screamed. When Moody's body fell from the broom, yours did too. You hit the ground with a thud and your body immediately screamed in pain. You looked to the side of you and saw Moody's body. Tears were falling from your face but the shock running through you prevented you from feeling whatever damage you took from the fall. You took a breath and gathered yourself. You needed to get out of here. You would have time to scream and grieve later if you made it out of this alive. The death eaters obviously thought you to be dead and Voldemort had fallen back for some reason. You feared it was because he realized you were not the real Harry. Your tears stopped, face hardened, and you stood with slight difficulty. You would have to get to the Weasley's and you prepared yourself to apparate. When you did, your aim had been a bit off. You were in the bog outside the burrow and you could see the light in the distance. There was a panic at the house and you realized that the others had all arrived. Despite the pain in your legs, you began to sprint to the burrow. You noticed that you were yourself again, your hair getting in your eyes as you ran.

"Y/N?" You heard Remus yell and you kept running. Someone pulled you into them and you looked up to see red hair. You had arrived at the burrow and the tears had begun as well.

"Fred, Moody is dead. Voldemort killed him. Mundungus disapparated right at the beginning, I don't know where he went. It was just me and Moody and then he just-"

"Shhh, hey you're safe now, it's gonna be okay." He muttered and you noticed the break in his voice. You suddenly realized that you didn't feel George near you. You pulled back quickly. "Living room" Fred stated and you headed in, Fred following behind you. When you saw George though, you were not filled with relief. In fact you were so filled with dread that you thought you might just throw up.

"Is he..." you whispered. You couldn't finish your question, dreading the answer.

"m' not dead" Came a whisper from the man you loved and tears began streaming down your face as you collapsed next to him and buried your face in his chest. Your breathing was rapid and your heart was racing. It only slowed when you felt a familiar hand brushing through your hair.

"Fred, I'm saintlike." you heard George whisper and you looked at him questioningly but he was looking across the room to his brother. Fred looked concerned and dropped down next to you, a hand going to your back.

"What's wrong with him? Is his mind affected?" Fred asked his mother worriedly. You were also looking to Molly for reassurance but she looked just as concerned as you.

"Saintlike. You see...I'm holy." George spoke again and all attention was on him. "Holey, Fred. D'you get it?" The relief that you felt was overwhelming and you laughed deeply before burying your face once again into the chest of the man you loved.

"Pathetic. Pathetic! With the whole world of ear related humor before you, you go for 'holey'?" Fred laughed with you, his voice cracking with emotion and the tears streaming down your face were now happy ones. You were so thankful that the man you loved was okay and unchanged besides the trauma he would likely carry. And of course that he only had one ear.

The rest of the night would go by in a blur. You were debriefed by Remus who tried to be as gentle as possible in his questioning. You did not leave George's side and neither did most of the Weasley's. However hours later you still hadn't moved or eaten, too scared to leave George. Enough time had passed that everyone told you George was out of the woods and most people had gone to bed. You couldn't leave though. Molly walked toward you, a plate full of food with her. George was asleep and you were staring at him fearfully, making sure that his chest was moving with life.

"You need to eat, dear." Molly whispered and you sniffed a bit.

"I cant." Was all you could say and she sat next to you.

"Well either you need to eat or I will wake George up so he can make you." At this you looked at her. She had unshed tears in her eyes and you suddenly tackled her in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Molly." You whispered into her neck where she was holding you.

"What on earth are you sorry for?" She asked.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect him and that I wasn't here to help when he got here. I'm sorry I didn't convince him not to go. I'm sorry-"

"Hey, stop." She asserted and you did, pulling back to look at her. "Now you know why you went. George went for the same reason. You were both very brave and it could have been either of you who got hurt out there. Now you are both alive and okay and so are the rest of my children. I will be thankful for the rest of my life for that. But I still seem to have a kid who isn't taken care of and I need to make sure that she is. So will you please take a breath-" she paused to wait for you to take a deep breath, which you did, "and eat something. Or else I fear my son may have a heart attack when he wakes up. Okay?" she questioned and you sniffled and wiped your nose.

Making one last glance at the movement of George's chest before looking to Molly and nodding. She handed you the tray of food that instantly comforted you and she sat with you while you ate. You were both silent but you were thankful she was there to watch over George while you were distracted. When you were finished she took your plate and stood.

"Now I am going to get some rest. You should consider doing the same." She whispered and patted your hair. You watched her walk to her room and you looked back to the man in front of you.

You weren't sure how long you were sitting there but by the time you came out of your trance to a hand touching your face the fire was nearly out. You looked up at George and he looked sad.

"Are you okay, baby? Do you need anything?" You started to stand up, worried he was uncomfortable. He pulled you down on top of him on the couch and you squirmed, worried you would hurt him.

"Honey, I need you t' stop moving and let me hold you please." He sounded serious so you stopped trying to get off of him. Instead you sighed and moved to straddle his hips and then lay the rest of your body on top of him, your head going to his chest. "Thank you." he whispered. You lifted your head to look at him and he had tears in his eyes.

"Are you in pain, bubs?" you tried to be quiet so you wouldn't disturb the peace in the room.

"No. I'm just glad you're okay." He whispered and a tear fell. You reached up to brush it off and you smiled at him.

"Of course I am, you're the one who got hit by a spell." You reassured but he shook his head.

"You're right that I'm the one that got hit by a spell but Voldemort tried to kill you. You could have died tonight, Y/N." He seemed so sad but you didn't know how to comfort him. You hadn't really thought about it since you got to the burrow, too focused on George. You had yet to really process the fact that Moody had died to save you and without his sacrifice you would not be here with your boyfriend.

"I didn't though. I'm okay." You moved up a bit to kiss the cheek on the side furthest from his injury. "We are both okay." You put your head in his neck and sighed deeply. He took a deep breath into your hair and wrapped his arms around your back.

"We are never doing that again." He grumbled and you chuckled.

"Really? I was planning on taking some polyjuice tomorrow, maybe having another go at it." You smiled and he rolled his eyes.

"I thought I was supposed to be the comedian."

"Not when your last joke was 'holey'. Your comedian title has been revoked."

"Oh shut it, I'd just taken a curse to the head, give a guy a break." He smiled but you both stopped and the smiles dropped while remembering the reality of the situation. "How long have you been up watching me?" he asked gently and you sighed, preparing for your scolding.

"Probably 6 hours or so."

"SIX HOURS? You haven't slept since you got back? Darling you need to go to bed, why on earth did you stay up that long?" he practically screeched and you shushed him as best you could so he wouldn't wake the whole house. You didn't answer his question, instead looking at his chest. "Y/N why wont you sleep?" He asked again, this time more seriously. You felt tears come to your eyes.

"I couldn't-I had to-" you were cut off by your own tears.

"Hey, bubs, whats wrong? I'm sorry, didn't mean t' upset you, bunny." You shook your head at the thought that he had made you cry.

"I was just worried that-" You paused to take a breath, "I thought if I went to bed I might wake up and you wouldn't be..." You felt him shush into your hair. He hadn't really thought about it that way and he felt bad for keeping you up like that.

"Bunny, I am fine. I pinky promise." He pulled away to do just that. As your pinkies were interlocked he made decisive eye contact with you. "I promise nothing bad is gonna happen to me if you sleep, okay?" You nodded a bit and he leaned in to kiss you. "How about we both go to sleep and you can stay right on top of me so you can be with me if anything happens." He mumbles against your lips and you nodded again. He pulled you snuggly into him and put a hand on the back of your head to hold you there.

"I love you." You whispered into his chest, not even necessarily trying to get him to hear.

"I love you too, bunny. Now you need to shush and get some sleep." You huffed and finally settled into him. He couldn't sleep for much of the time you did, he could never admit it but he was quite scared as well. He shared your fears. He was worried he would wake up and you would no longer be with him. He got bits of sleep now and then but he couldn't sleep through the night. You stayed asleep on top of him until he saw the sun come up. He knew you were vaguely awake as your breathing wasn't as slow and you curled into him tighter.

"M' gonna get up to make us some tea, yeah?" You nodded slightly and he took that as an okay to get up. He picked you up gently and brought you to sit on the counter in the kitchen. His head didn't seem to hurt at all which surprised him a bit but he knew his mother was a gifted healer and she worked her magic on him to make sure he would feel okay the next day. He tried to step away from you to make some tea but you did not release him. Instead he was trapped standing in front of the counter, you clinging to him tightly. It was at that moment that the other twin decided to come into the kitchen.

"How's the hole?" He nudged George with his elbow and he chuckled.

"Not bad at all, don't even really have a headache." He muttered, still trying to be moderately quiet as you seemed to be in a half asleep state and he knew you needed all of the rest you could get.

"She doing okay?" Fred whispered, nodding toward you.

"Restless night." George replied and Fred nodded in understanding, moving to prep the tea for George seeing as he was trapped at the moment. When the tea was done, George rustled you awake slightly. "Would you like some tea, m'love?" You nodded and moved to sit up a bit, releasing George and catching Fred making gagging noises next to you.

"Oh shove off." You grumbled and he chuckled. You made a move to get off the counter and George grabbed your waist to assist you. As soon as you were on the ground you made your way over to Fred to hug him properly. You were just so relieved that your favorite people made it out of yesterday alive and Fred sighed and hugged back.

"Y/N, this is 3 hugs in 24 hours. I'm starting to worry about your head. There isn't a hole in it is there?" Fred questioned and you rolled your eyes. You lifted your head and turned it to look at the other twin across the kitchen who stood with tea in his hand, gazing at both of you with a calm and content look on his face. You smiled at him before releasing his brother who gave your hair a ruffle as you turned to look up at him.

"Thanks for being okay." You smiled at him and his gaze softened a bit.

"Right back at you."

The rest of the morning was spent drinking tea and talking, thankful just to be alive. As the family woke up there was more relieved exchanges without the shock and stress that had been present the night before. You rarely left George's side besides to let him get changed and have a private talk with his brother. Eventually Ginny dragged you away to get you cleaned up and changed into clothes that weren't covered in blood and grime. As you walked away the boys began to gather around George. Ron looked at the twins expectantly with a glint in his eye.

"Well? Show us then!" He got out a bit excitedly. Harry smiled as well and Bill seemed to have some jitters. George smirked before a ring appeared in his fingers. It was modest but it was all he could afford and he knew it wouldn't make a difference to you anyway. The boys all shoved each other in excitement and Fred clasped a hand on George's shoulder.

"I know you know this already but I just want to remind you that if you hurt her, all of us wouldn't hesitate to beat you to bits." He smiled but there was not so much humor behind his statement. The rest of the boys mumbled in agreement. George gave them all a look.

"Okay, first of all, I nearly died yesterday. I think you could all stand to be a bit nicer to me."

"We all did, get over yourself buddy." Bill joked and George rolled his eyes.

"Second of all, How come I'm the one getting threatened? I'm your brother."He looked around the group.

"'Cause she's the favorite, obviously." Ron stated simply before leaving the group, Harry and Bill following him, both giving George a teasing smile before they left.

"I think that was rather rude." George grumbled, though there was no malice behind it. He looked over at his twin who simply shrugged and patted him on the back.

"Just the way it is. If you two were to break up, I'm pretty sure she's the one who stays in the family." Fred winked before heading out of the room as well and George took a second to look at the ring in his hand. He heard footsteps and quickly shoved it into his pocket. You appeared in the doorway, hair matted down with water and in comfy clothes, fuzzy socks adorning your feet.

From the doorway you smiled at George who beamed back at you. You felt around in your pocket for a moment where your hands were shoved and when your hand hit the hidden ring there you let out a breath. You stared at each other for a moment, just content to be near each other without thinking about the war for a moment, warm light filling the room and calm in the air, both planning on later asking the other to spend the rest of your lives together.

[harrieatthemet]

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing. 

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof. 

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity. 

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school. 

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother. 

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind. 

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet. 

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?” 

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth. 

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.” 

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either. 

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to. 

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare. 

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason. 

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?” 

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date. 

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes. 

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot. 

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.” 

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it. 

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).” 

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension. 

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this. 

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.” 

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

[ptergwen]

on the dot

warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes, and the boys being a lil goofy

summary: the boys keep you entertained when tom is running late

a/n: this nasty stinky year ends today! finally y’all!! it sucked sm and a lot of stuff went wrong but i’ve enjoyed spending time with you lovely people, seriously you’ve all been such a light and i hope we bring it into 2021 :,) i love all of you tons, stay safe tonight and have fun <3

-

ten.

“he’s still not here?” you storm back into the room, looking between all the boys. “where the hell could he be?” harry only sips his drink. harrison stares up at the ceiling. sam offers a sad smile.

you thought by the time you finished your private freak out in the bathroom, tom would be home. home and ready for you to kiss and hug and welcome the new year with. he has ten more minutes to make it happen.

of course, you were disappointed he couldn’t be here for christmas. you still understood because it wasn’t his fault. there was scheduling and a whole bunch of other things keeping him in the states. you’d at least have new year’s eve together, and that was enough for you.

the universe had other plans. tom’s flight got delayed to the latest possible second, and it’s beyond either of your control now.

nine.

harrison puts a hand on your arm. “maybe he’s in the taxi. traffic and all that,” he leads you over to the couch, giving you a nudge to sit down. you do with crossed arms and pouted lips. “cheer up.” harry beams and sticks a party hat on your head. you’re not even bothering to strap it on. sam scoots closer to you in his spot.

“you have us,” he reminds you, smiling to get the message across. it’s nice of them to try and comfort you, but all you really want is tom. he’s the holland you’d rather be touching knees with. “thanks, guys. i just...” you let out a sigh. “tom was supposed to be my new year’s kiss.”

“well, we can’t help you with that,” harrison snickers and takes a seat on the arm of the couch. harry puts down his beer with a cheeky look. “tessa might be available.” groaning, you drop your head onto his shoulder. “shut up, i know it’s cheesy. we talked about it, though.”

tom better get here soon and back that up.

eight.

“what if you did it over, um, facetime?” sam suggests, stifling a laugh right after. these boys just can’t be serious. “i’m not making out with my phone in front of you guys,” you scoff and adjust your party hat that’s falling. “you’d do it if we left the room, then?” harry questions, harrison raising his eyebrows at you.

you lift your head off of harry so you can shoot him a glare. “no, you know what i mean. leave me alone.” your voice shakes on the last part. you’re starting to feel emotional about all of this. you wanted one night with your boyfriend who hasn’t been home in months, that was all. why couldn’t you get it?

the boys all coo at you in unison. it’s sort of sarcastically, mostly sympathetically. harrison reaches over and puts an arm around your shoulders. “he’ll be here, y/n/n. there’s still about...” he checks his watch on his other hand. his eyes go wide.

“seven minutes until midnight.” “jesus,” harry mutters to himself, picking his beer back up.

seven.

you’re debating whether or not you should text tom. maybe call? you haven’t heard from him in hours, which isn’t very promising. the boys are making too much noise to talk to him, actually. they’ve taken to blowing into their noisemakers to distract you.

the loud humming that comes from harrison’s is ear piercing. that’s partially because he’s holding it directly up to your ear. sam is using a handheld one, and harry is raising his fist in the air while he finishes off his drink. you love their spirit. you’ve run out of your own.

“come on, year’s almost over,” harrison says in an overly happy way. “let’s at least celebrate that.” “i’ll toast,” harry salutes him with his empty bottle. “you’re pissed, harry,” sam laughs and grabs it from him. you throw your head back on the cushion. “can time move any slower?”

six.

“i give up. i’m spending new year’s alone,” you throw your hands up in defeat. harry rolls his eyes in mock offense. “hey, you’ve had great company.” “she doesn’t want to hear it, div,” sam reaches behind you and flicks his brother’s head. it earns a quiet “ouch.” you’d normally laugh at their antics, only you don’t have it in you.

you might be acting a little dramatic, but you have the right to. tom’s kisses are everything. that, and you miss the hell out of him. he misses you ten times more. you know it because he’s made sure to tell you every day.

“tom’s coming, y/n. does it really matter if it’s a few minutes late?” harrison asks with a pat on your shoulder. “hours,” you correct him bitterly. he removes his hand before you break it. you turn to sam, who clenches his teeth. “your brother has terrible timing.” “you’ve only just figured that out?”

five.

harrison and sam have you playing some three way game of patty cake when the doorknob starts to move. you immediately snap your head up. is that...

“santa?” harry murmurs in his drunken state. “wrong holiday,” sam tells him. “that’s passed.” harrison chuckles at the conversation. “we should cut him off before-“

the door quickly swings open, a breathless but grinning tom behind it. “guess who?” he drops his bags and opens up his arms. your face lights up the most it has in too long. you run straight over to him. the boys watch on, waiting to say hi until after you two get time together.

“oh my god, you made it!” you giggle out, tom lifting you up by your waist. he secures his arms tightly around you and squeezes. “how’d you actually get here on time?” your voice is muffled by your face pressed into his shoulder. “i’ll always be here for you, angel,” tom assures you, shutting the door with his foot.

he kisses the top of your head. you can feel his lips curve into another smile. “in every way.” you put your arms around his neck, clasping your hands together. “you don’t understand how much i missed you.” you’re returning the smile. “i swear.”

“i promise, i missed you so much more.” he carefully sets you down and keeps his arms around your waist. the two of you exchange a look that says all the i love you’s you don’t currently have the time or privacy to.

“oi, where’s our big hello?” harry calls from the couch.

four.

you’re all squished onto the couch now. tom is sitting in your spot with you in his lap. the others strongly protested it, whining about how you’d go at it or worse. you ignored their complaints and happily took your place on tom’s thigh. your back is to him, so he has his chin on your shoulder to sneak glances at you.

“does anyone have a resolution?” harrison asks the group of you, eyes landing on his best friend. “me?” tom checks, tracing a finger up and down your side. “to take more breaks.” you like that one. you let him know by leaning into him more. “mine’s to move out,” harry remarks. his oldest brother gives him a warning look.

“all jokes. you two are adorable,” he gives you a thumbs up, shaking around his noisemaker again. “this is what i’ve left you with?” tom mumbles to you, fully aware the others can hear. you shake your head. “they terrorized me, tom.” sam is the one to interject.

“that’s rubbish. i cooked every meal you wanted, we-“ “they terrorized me,” you repeat, playfully this time. tom taps under your chin with two fingers. “mhm, sounds like it.”

three.

“do you think tessa would still do a kiss?” harrison asks harry, who cackles when he sees tom’s face. he has to blink a few times to process what was said. you smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead.

“what did i tell you? they’re weird.” “they’re deranged,” tom leans into your touch. “i won’t let them near her.”

“i feel so... single,” harrison explains with a fake sniffle. he eyes the two of you. that makes tom pull you closer. “stay away from my girls.”

two.

“the moment we’ve been waiting for,” you move so you’re facing tom. “is about to happen.” you also happen to be straddling him so it’s possible. if the boys have anything to say, you won’t be listening. “our new year’s kiss,” he grins, his hands dropping down to your hips. “very big moment.”

one.

tom tilts his head up to you, running his tongue over his lower lip. your party hat is strapped on now. you move in closer until your noses are touching.

“missed this face,” he rasps and nudges your nose with his. “well, here it is,” you bring a hand up to the side of his neck. the boys are huddled in a circle with their party gear, so you have the couch to yourselves. harrison is getting ready to pop a bottle of champagne.

your not so perfect night ended up being better than any of you could’ve expected.

harrison checks his watch and waves a hand at everyone. “twelve, eleven,” he counts you in. “ten, nine, eight,” you all join, you turning your head to look at the others. tom peeks his head out from behind you. “seven, six,” harry eagerly holds out glasses for drinks. “five, four, three,” sam raises up his noisemaker.

“two, one! happy new year!” the champagne sprays everywhere while you turn back to tom.

you erupt in a big smile before he’s pulling you in. he finally presses his lips to yours, your arms going around his neck. it’s easy and soft and you fall right into your usual rhythm. his lips part for you, letting you deepen the kiss.

tom’s eyes are squeezed shut in focus, on you and how you taste like the same lip balm from all those months ago. one of his hands rests on your back to support you. you break away for all of two seconds to take a breath. you’re giggling, and so is tom. you connect your lips again without warning, tom still laughing into it.

“i love you so much,” you pull away to tell him quietly. tom tugs on the top of your party hat with a playful smirk. “i love you, y/n/n. happy new year, babe.” he gives you one more peck on the lips. you’re feeling generous and decide to return it, your kiss lingering a bit.

harry summons you two before it turns into another make out.

“drinks! we have drinks,” he holds his up for emphasis. harrison already poured yours, sam taking a sip of his own while they chat. you climb off of tom and offer him a hand. he gladly takes it, interlocking your fingers and getting up. the two of you walk over to the table hand in hand.

“thanks, bro. happy new year,” tom gives harrison a quick one armed hug and takes his drink. harrison hands you yours after. “thank you,” you take it and flash him a small smile. “for everything.” “anytime,” he pulls you in for a proper hug, tom hugging the twins.

you do the same, then the five of you sit at the table to drink and talk. when they get into a conversation about golf, tom eventually breaks off. he squeezes your knee to get your attention, which you raise a curious eyebrow at. he nods toward the couch.

“we’ll finish that later.”