#and that handshake that harry didn’t take

[padfootastic]

like, i like draco and all but the way so many of his fans twist his actions to portray him sympathetically and turn harry into the villain is so weird. *especially* in postwar fics. or the AU slytherin!harry ones.

it’s probably really weird that so much draco/harry gives me the same rancid vibes as remus/sirius but alas, what to do.

[1d1195]

Green Skies, Pink Grass

~2.6k words

From me: Going with another one shot for Monday. This very much jumps into the middle of a storyline that I'll never write but just wanted to post something small in between Most updates.

Warnings: jealousy, enemies(?) to lovers

Summary: It is very obvious Harry gets enjoyment out of irritating her. But not when she can't take it anymore.

“Excuse me,” she approached like she owned the table. She slid right between Harry and the girl that was talking to him. She stood at the corner of the square table made for four. But there were only two, Harry and the girl that had every right to be sitting at one of the right angles so they could be closer together.

For nearly the entire night, she watched another girl touch Harry’s arm and flirt with her eyes as they spoke. All while he leaned close and whispered God knows what. Who knew what secrets he was telling her. The stuff that she dreamed of knowing and not just figuring out from her friends or him taunting her. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Rebecca,” she stated and looked around her intruding body so she could peek at Harry. This was ridiculous. She was talking to him and there was no reason for her to have intruded like that and get in between Harry and him. Everyone knew they didn’t like each other. Of all the people that could have taken his attention from her it couldn’t have been the girl that wanted to wring his neck.

Her backside was directly in front of Harry’s vision. He paid nearly no mind to the intrusion—almost like he expected it. In fact, he took the moment to sip his drink because while he wasn’t proud of it, he was extremely grateful for the reaction it caused from her. All night he felt her stare from across the restaurant. Her gaze bored into him. It was painful how long it took to come to this in his opinion. Now he couldn’t wait to see what she was going to do next. She didn’t even flinch as she approached; her sure-footed steps had her heels clicking across the floor with a power that made Harry’s body warm over. The confidence she had was so sexy. The only thing that could have made the current interaction better than having her perfect ass right in front of his face, would have been being able to see her pretty, angry face as she glared at the girl he was chatting with. “Can I help you?” Becca asked.

Harry smirked, grateful neither one of them could see him because he was very much looking forward to this.

“Yeah, umm…” she swallowed that swagger and confidence suddenly wavering.

Harry wasn’t hers. Not by a long shot. They argued about almost everything there was to argue about. They had opposite movie tastes. He never took her suggestion for making dinner recipes better. His driving directions to get somewhere the fastest were always different than hers. She swore he would argue the sky was green if given half the chance. They weren’t that close, but Niall was her favorite coworker and quite possibly her best friend. But that meant she had to spend an infinite amount of time with his best friend, Harry.

She could have taken all his misgivings in stride, honestly. Tt wouldn’t have been that bad nor hard to have. She liked a bit of a challenge in her life. If Harry hadn’t looked down on her the first time that they met, they might not have been on this frustrating path of annoying one another.

It was no secret that Harry was one of the most gorgeous men she had ever met. His handshake was warm and firm but that was as far as his warmth went—at least when it came to her. She wasn’t oblivious to the way his voice sounded when he talked about his mum, sister, or niece. He donated to a ton of charities and was constantly helping his friends.

It was just her.

He was cold and standoffish the day they met. It hurt. Mainly because Niall told her that she would love him, and she was excited to make a new friend. How often did someone in their late twenties make new friends?

But after their introduction and awkward silences while Niall tried to get them chatting about their similarities instead of their differences, she overheard him whispering to Niall in the kitchen while they got plates and drinks for the pizza they ordered. Only catching some of the words that included dislike, irritating, and know-it-all. She prided herself on being kind, never making anyone feel inferior, but Harry made it seem like a fault and didn’t see her that way at all.

Harry wondered where she was possibly going to go with her irritation at Becca. Only moments before the evening began, she wanted to strangle him. He could see it in her eyes and knew she truly thought about wrapping her hands around his throat because he made some comment about her not getting fucked properly in front of Niall. He smiled impishly at her as the rage filled her eyes. It made her eye twitch in that cute way of hers. The way that made him want to keep pissing her off so it would continue twitching. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch just next to her eye and hope that it would make her crazier but also so he could ease that tension all the same.

But it was clear she was lost here. There was no follow through for this moment and seeing Miss Prim & Proper discombobulated was one of Harry’s favorite kinds of sights. But even still, she didn’t deserve to be this lost. It wasn’t her fault the little envious monster took hold of her without a way out of the situation.

“Hey love,” he hummed quietly, pressed a hand on her lower back. She stepped away like he shocked her—or stabbed her. Her eyes were wild as she glanced at Harry briefly. He smiled, his lips straining a little too much to keep him from smiling mischievously—just like before they entered the restaurant. That little quirk that made her eye start to twitch just the same as well.

 That stupid dimple, that knowing look. She wanted to strangle him again.

He knew what she was feeling all too well. Fortunately, it hadn’t happened tonight, but he knew the irksome feeling that heated his stomach and chest when anyone bought her a drink or complimented her smile while he was in earshot.

It was a beautiful smile, but it made him sick to hear other people say it to her and not him.

“Do you have something to say or what? I was talking to Harry.”

Perhaps the alcohol she had ingested was cause for the bravery that resulted in her walking across the restaurant and planning to tell the girl off. But what was she supposed to say? Harry wasn’t hers. There was nothing she could say that would deter Rebecca from spending time with him. Nothing to stop Harry from spending time with Rebecca.

It seemed Harry noticed she was floundering but for once he didn’t make fun of her nor antagonize her further. Instead, without warning, there was a warm hand on the small of her back. “Kitten,” he hummed. His voice was low, directly in her ear, and full of caution. “Let’s go,” he pressed his fingers into her back in effort to get her away from the table. “Sorry, Becca, I gotta go,” he grabbed his drink, tossing the remaining sip back and settling it back on the table.

She said nothing, glaring at her feet with heated cheeks. While the woman who had taken Harry’s attention but wasn’t going to keep it smiled bitterly. “You’re really going to leave? Just because she interrupted?” Harry ignored her, rolled his eyes but not even the girl he had his hands on could see it.

Harry’s lack of response made her burn with anger more and she wished she knew why she went over to interrupt them. Harry was behind her, his body so close to hers she thought a piece of paper couldn’t fit between them. “Wow can’t even fight back—”

She started to move back for Rebecca, but Harry yanked her closer to him. Not even a molecule of air could have fit between them, before she could even take a full step. His arm was wrapped around the front of her stomach, his lips went directly to her earlobe. “M’here, kitten. She’s not worth y’time,” he assured her. “Walk,” he ordered quietly. Normally, she would fight back and tell him not to order her around. But the alcohol in her system simultaneously subdued her anger toward Harry and amplified it toward everyone else. So she walked.

She could hear the way Rebecca laughed calling her pathetic loudly to anyone that walked by. Harry snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her tightly each time he heard one of Rebecca’s taunts and the following pull of her muscles to turn around to continue her chat with her.

Once they were out of the restaurant, he continued to usher her up the road away from the offensive restaurant. There was a cool chill in the air that hadn’t been there when they entered the venue. Confident she wouldn’t make a break for it and return to give Becca a piece of her mind, Harry released her briefly.

In an instant, he pulled his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders before wrapping his arm around her waist again. He gave her a warm squeeze then walked beside her; his other hand stuffed in his pocket. They didn't speak as they walked. After a block and a half, she bit the inside of her lip. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Harry hadn't ever heard an apology directed at him from her mouth. "Am I dead?" He murmured.

She sighed. "I don't know what came over me," she admitted.

Harry knew. He knew because he knew exactly how she was feeling. "Yeah," he nodded.

More silence followed and they just kept walking. The shoes she was wearing weren’t really conducive to a city walk but she was willing to have a blister on each toe and her heel if it meant Harry’s warm arm and a jacket that smelled like him was going to be wrapped around her. “Did you like her?” She asked.

Harry smirked. “She was fine.”

She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Kitten,” he chuckled. “She was fine, but I’d’ve much preferred you sitting next t’me all night.”

“But you don’t like me.”

Harry snorted. “Honestly, right now, I don’t. Think I could throw y’into traffic for such a remark. What are y’talking ‘bout, love? M’obsessed with you,” he rolled his eyes.

“Obsessed?”

“Obsessed.”

Her heart fluttered. She stopped walking. Mainly because her feet hurt, but also because she was floored that he admitted such a thing. After all the time she spent wondering why he taunted her and made her want to strangle him. Her voice shook as she asked her next question. Because it was mean spirited of him. “Is this a trick? Like that time Niall was setting me up on a date and you convinced me I got the date wrong, and I sat at the coffee shop for hours before—”

Harry chuckled at the memory. Proud of his handy work and grateful she didn’t go on a date with that prick (who was actually a really nice guy that probably deserved her more than Harry did). “No, s’not a trick.”

She was staring at him like he had ten heads and honestly there was nothing better than seeing her little eye twitch. “You like me?” She asked.

“Very much, kitten,” he nodded and stuffed both hands in his pockets while she processed this.

“Can we sit? These shoes are killing me,” she frowned. Harry followed her to the bench out in front of a closed café. He reached for her feet and unclipped the strap from one ankle then the other.

“You really like me?” She asked again while Harry untied his dress shoes. Harry had this thing about always wearing two pairs of socks. It alleviated blisters, of his own dress shoes and there had been countless times Gemma hated her own high heels after a long night at a family wedding. He slid off the top pair and put them on her feet without fanfare.

“I really like you,” he assured her.

“But you...” She frowned, her stomach aching at the kindness he was showing her. Finally. The nice thing about the cute little sock thing he was doing? She had never seen him do it for anyone else. This was a treat for her as far as she knew. He retied his shoes and settled her feet back to the sidewalk. He held her shoes beside him on the bench.

“I what?” His smile was adorable, mischievous as always, dimple appearing cutely in his left cheek, but it didn’t make her eye twitch and even though he missed it, he liked her soft expression, analyzing him more.

“You said I was a know-it-all. And... irritating.”

“You are irritating,” she glared at him so cutely, he wanted to take a picture of her and make it his phone background and print it on a poster to hang on the ceiling above his bed. “When did I call y’irritating?”

“When you met me. You said you disliked me."

He tilted his head. “Do y’mean at Niall’s?” She nodded. He was clearly processing that and tried to think back. She was finally quiet, while he thought. Didn't try to further their discussion because part of her thought she would turn it into an argument just by accident. “Is that why y’always keep me a foot away from you? Why y’never let me get a word in? Why y’argue with everything I say? Swear y’would tell me the grass is pink jus’ t’argue,” She didn’t dare dignify that with a response. Or that she felt the same way. Harry tugged her legs back up and shifted her so she draped across his lap. His arm around her back while her bum warmed his thigh. He brought his hand slowly up her leg, over the socks he had put on her that looked ridiculous with her dress. His fingers skimmed over her knee and up her thigh while his eyelids hooded his gaze as he followed the path of his hand. He tickled her skin, his fingers circling her wrist in her own lap before he brought it to his shoulder. Then he brought his fingers to her face, cupped her cheek in his palm. “I’m going t’kiss y’now,” he murmured. “Because m’not going t’explain how ridiculous y’are for thinking the first time I met you I called you irritating, or that I disliked you...or thought you were a know-it-all.”

She blushed. “Oh...” she swallowed feeling woozy Harry's face was so close to hers. He smelled so good. He looked so good.

“Don’t y’think it was much more likely I called Niall an irritating know-it-all that I would fall so hard for you and I disliked how right he was?” She remained silent, dropped her gaze again, until Harry tilted her chin up once more. “You are irritating,” he murmured his mouth a breath away from hers. He could feel the warmth of her lips pulling an invisible string to his. Like he had already touched them without touching them. “But I love when y’irritate me,” he assured her and closed that final breath between their lips.

The sky could be green. The grass could be pink. Harry was done arguing with her about it.

--

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[sushirrrry]

protective bodyguard harry blurb with smut please?

order a harry styles one-shot smut blurb; 4.5k words cw: oral sex, dom/sub, control kink, & strong language

The grasp on her arm was tight as he pulled her back away in the small room off to the side; she tried to get out of it before she huffed in his face. He let go for a moment, looking at her before the scowl on his face mirrored hers.

The room full of curtains, all the way up to the ceiling as they coated in the majestical way that the royal setting of the palace provided. The bright colors and the warmth of the light in the room seemed to be opposite to the behavior of which they stood.

As the door shut behind them; they were now alone, awaiting the orders of her officiates before the engagement that they were to be involved. Her royal highness was to be on the grounds today with her father, his royal majesty, to offer a showing of their efforts towards their charity gala that they would showcase that evening.

But her prior, childish behavior had sent her security into a tailwind of nervousness. In the nervousness, sat a deeper feeling that he couldn’t seem to overcome as he stared at the way that the black dress hugged the curves of her shape—the inline of her waist were held tightly with the expensive fabric, the sweet white ribbon held her hair back in a half-up ponytail as the rest wisped against the edges of her shoulders.

Harry couldn’t stand the way she flaunted around in such a manner; he couldn’t stand the way his hands ached to touch her, even if for a rough moment of punishment.

But maybe that was the issue.

“What was that for?” Harry snarled at her, “You think it’s funny to put yourself into those kinds of situations?”

She crossed her arms over her chest as she looked back at him with disgust.

“What do you mean? I was only offering a photo—”

“You cannot send yourself into the crowd like that, especially in the public engagements. He could have grabbed you, or worse. You know the protocol, and you know that you can’t do that. When will you learn?”

His breath was heated as he stared at her, practically backed into the corner as her sweet smiles from before now only replaced with the scathing frown.

“Nothing was going to happen to me,” She explained, “All he did was put his arm around me. It was possibly just out of habit—and you embarrassed me, pulling me away like that.”

Sure, yes, Harry knew that he may have been a bit overprotective in the sense of how he handled the situation, but he wasn’t going to let anyone touch her in a way that was past the protocoled handshake.

The way that her breath inflated had his eyes settled on her chest for a moment; his eyes lifted just slightly at the way that her stealth mirrored him. She wasn’t going to back down this time, and he could see the flames hidden in her hazel eyes.

“Your highness, I will not apologize for putting your safety at my highest concern.” He told her sternly, pushing his feet forward just a bit as he watched her take a step back. “You know that you’re not allowed to step into the crowds, nor are you allowed to insert yourself into them unprovoked, without proper authority to do so,” His hands sat in fists next to the trousers that had started to feel a tightness that he only wished would subside. “That’s an order.”

A sudden hint of a snap hit her below the stomach, like an overturned eighteen-wheeler. Her breath settled on the tip of her tongue as her eyes fluttered at the way that he spoke to her.

The way that his black trousers settled on his hips with the delicate tuck of the white button down that she had seen him wear every day, without fail. She watched the way that his lower arm flexed as his fist clenched and the rolled-up sleeves became tight.

The silence of the room didn’t deafen her, but the annihilation of the thumping of her heartrate could have, easily.

“Do you have any idea how angry it makes me when you don’t listen to me?” He further pushed, but the tone was lowered, almost like he just wanted her to understand that every part of him wanted her to listen—to succumb to the realization that there was security in knowing that she could trust him.

She settled her lips together, nodding a few beats before her chin nodded.

She did understand how angry it made him—she watched the way that his eyes sharpened whenever her hand would linger in the crowds for too long, or when someone would reach out and grab at her. With decorum, she would nicely try to retreat. She was a nice girl, after all, and she would never want to put the royal name in any distress.

But Harry watched her—felt her, knew her intentions were to have him watch her every move. It was almost impossible to ignore the way that his eyes flickered and stayed on her as he tried his best to keep her safe.

With keeping her safe meant having her all to himself. That was the only way that he knew she would be safe—if they were in a room, completely on their lonesome without another being around to possibly put a lingering hand on her.

When his being pushed her against the wall, the twenty-foot ceilings with wall-to-wall wallpaper that had been installed by her family hundreds of years prior, he felt the electricity of her

“You like playing these games because you,” His breath hitched as he watched her eyes focus on the way that his mouth moved around, playing with the words on the tip of his tongue, “You like being punished. Don’t you?”

She gasped as his hand firmly placed itself next to her ear against the wall, almost like he had demanded an answer, without giving her a moment to think. Her eyes were glazed over, as if knowing what was to come, but already knowing the feeling that his hands would have on her in a way that she craved.

She had always craved.

“Tell me.” He moved his face further into her realm, pushing her—coaxing her to do as he told. Somewhere in the line of his need for control lie her need to submit to him; it was a merriment of the two that urged his fingers to pull her to look up at him with a darkness that she ached for.

“I want you to tell me how much you need me under that tight, little dress,” His eyes referenced the dark material that hugged her in the most sensual way, but it was classic and modern and gave her the edge that the modern royals had needed, and what he had so desperately salivated over since he had been told that he was to watch over her.

Her breath came in sharp as he she tried to feel a separation from him, but couldn’t as his foot stood between her legs, his knee nudging her knees to stay apart. She tried to close her thighs but couldn’t. The smirk on his face was apparent as he knew she needed relief and wouldn’t be able to find any.

“I would never wear a dress like this,” She practically stuttered out; a pathetic line, as he knew that she was becoming putty in his hands just at the way her eyes were glass, “Unless I knew someone else would want to take it off, Mr. Styles.”

Harry’s lips parted at the words, watching as she practically fell directly into his trap—placing herself into his atmosphere as he ached for her need, her greediness to be seen.

He knew that they didn’t have much time. Someone would be looking for them, surely. But he didn’t care enough to process what would happen if they were caught in this. His attention firmly stayed on her, and he knew that if he didn’t address now, she would never listen to him again.

He couldn’t have that—he couldn’t have her disobey him. That was pure blasphemy, and he would never allow it.

“Am I to trust that you can watch the door?” The hint of a smirk the only emotion he could muster as he strained to explode in the confines of her gaze, “Can you do at least one thing correctly?”

She cocked her jaw out to the side as she raised a brow at his snarky comment.

“Am I to trust that you will actually be able to make me cum?”

Harry pushes his hips against hers, causing her brows to narrow as a slight reaction. The words that floated off her tongue were filthy, but he knew that he could clean her up in a matter of moments.

“I could make you cum just by my words, love,” His voice like venom, “Making you wait for my cock is just the punishment you need. Always getting what you want—you love playing this game because I’m making you beg for it. And I’ll play along because,” A humorless laugh leaves his lips, “Because you’re going to be a good girl for me now, aren’t you?”

“You,” She swallowed back her bite as she tried her best to study him. “Work for me.”

Harry brushed some of the hair from her face that he knew had fallen from the pretty ribbon that held her hair back in its place.

“Alright,” A broken smile placed on his face as he knew the game she was playing—a good game, at that.

“Walk away, then. Since you’re such a good little Princess, all proper and innocent,” He stared at the way that her lips part as he had moved away just a bit. “But I know that you want my tongue nestled between your thighs so bad, and you’d never give up the opportunity if it were to present itself to you. Trust me,” He said, “I will work for you.”

He watched as she thought for a moment; the tough exterior trying to remain but failing over and over again as her eyes lowered for a moment just at the thought of him moving away. She couldn’t help but think of the scorching hot heat of his tongue pressed into her, lapping up every ounce of wetness she had.

A subtle whimper left her lips as she struggled with the thought, backing against the wall enough that had his knee pressed directly into his cunt—just like he knew she wanted. The smirk that followed stated it all. She riled underneath him, pressing upwards a bit to try to get away from the feeling that elicit her, but knowing that she couldn’t fight it.

Even though she tried to push it away, she needed him in a way that felt almost animalistic. So, she surrendered to his pushback, letting her hands move up to rest on his shoulders as he felt the subtle pull towards her.

“That’s what I thought.” He said, a cocky tone milked from his throat as he won her convictions.

She tilted her head back as she could; the feeling of his hands running down the length of her body was all that she could have asked for in the moment. It was almost like heaven’s gate opened as she pulled her hips towards and into him. Harry’s eyes watched the length of her throat as she arched towards him just a bit.

His lips firmly attached to the skin, letting the softness underneath him feel scathing and almost unattainable. As he kissed down towards her collarbone, he made sure to nuzzle underneath the family heirloom pearls that rested against her skin.

Without another warning, he was on his knees before her—as if a metaphor for the way that he had been begging for this moment for the last three-hundred days that he had been notified he was to care for her; to watch her, to keep her safety as his priority.

All he had ever wanted was to be on his knees in front of her; kissing her, eating her in a way that craved every single moment that his eyes devoured her.

His fingers nudged the black fabric up her thighs, watching as it stretched over the subtly curves and dips of her hips. His knees settled on the ground as he allowed his eyes to stare up at her, watching as she arched against the wall, almost pushing her hips towards him to feel what he had been teasing.

“How long has it been?” His voice was hot on a whisper as he kissed the inside of her thigh, watching her reaction to him practically explode at the heat of his lips.

She swallowed back, “You would know,” She muttered, “You haven’t left my side in a year.”

At her words, he smirked with a knowingness; he knew that she hadn’t left his side. Their tension and weight of this had only been stewing for so long, and he was finally getting the opportunity to show her the way that he had always wanted her.

“You’re going to be fucking tight around my fingers, won’t you?” He spoke, his tongue feeling tingly as he asked the dirty words.

She bit her lip. “I don’t know what gave you the illusion that I was a prim and proper Princess,” She urged, “Surprised you never heard me moaning your name when my bedroom door was closed.”

It was his turn to whimper, just thinking of all the times he had traveled with her, knowing that she was safe behind the shut doors. He had wondered if her time alone was peaceful; knowing that no one else was around to bother her, as her public job was practically a lifestyle.

But now he knew that she thought of him as she fucked herself into oblivion on the cream, silk sheets—spread and open as if telepathically waiting for him to check on her. So fucking prim and so fucking proper.

“Got a mouth on you, hm?” He commented, a roughness to his tone as he held his hands against the skin of her thighs as his own mouth practically watered at the touch, “What would the commonwealth think of their dainty, little Princess with a mouth like that?”

“It’s a fun little act,” She huffed out, a smile on her lips as she bit on her lip at the way that the man’s eyes plead with certainty of need, “Even more fun sneaking around like this, don’t you think?”

“Hm,” Harry hummed, his eyes moving up to catch hers as he shakes his head a little bit, “’S a gift to me.”

His hands caress her thighs, moving the black dress up until he’s reached the periwinkle lace, accented with a baby pink bow right at the top. His eyes guide up to her as he feels the strong connection of their electrical magnetism forcing himself as close as he can; his lips attached to the skin right underneath the slim line where the dress is pushed up.

But, right above the pink bow.

“Even your dripping pussy has a bow for me,” His heated breath was hot on her skin as she whimpers at the feeling of his merciful pout on her delicate skin, “A gift all for me.”

She felt the way her knees wanted to bend inward at the way he made her feel; a horrific shuttering of need coursing through her, watching as his head moved its way further down, attaching itself to the outside lace. As if, to only get a small taste of her. He had been holding himself back to help control his appetite for what was underneath. A teasing approach that left her shuttering out a breath.

But he was starving for the contact in one way or another.

“Watch the fucking door,” He stated, pulling away for a minute. “Don’t you dare let us get fucking caught. You’re going to have an orgasm so fucking strong you aren’t going to know what hit you.”

“Yes—yes, sir.” She blinked a few times; hands wrapped around the longer curls that practically melted between her fingertips as he sat on his knees in front of her.

His eyes moved back up to her as he watched knees as they shook in a height of adrenaline and anticipation.

“So sweet. Such a good girl for me. Doing as I say.” He commented, one of the soft remarks he made as he kissed at her inner thigh knowing that she needed a bit of kindness to overlay with the tough punishment he was going to put her through.

His fingers interlaced with the waistband of the lace panties, the waistband on them laying around his fingertips as he pulled them down with a swoop. He couldn’t believe the way that his eyes attached to the dripping cunt that practically swelled with anticipation for him—watching her writhe as there was now no friction made his cock strain underneath the trousers.

“Touch yourself,” He whispered, “Show me where you need me.”

His head felt dizzy with the starvation of her as he watched her succumb to his order. Her fingers daintily placed along on the swollen bud of her clit, pressing softly as she moaned at the touch she craved for. His eyes dark with a blackness for what occurred in front of his eyes, knowing she rewarded him with every single move.

She wriggled underneath his stare, as he used his own to gently gather the wetness that lie between her thighs. The slickness of her desire coating his fingertips as he gathered them along the length of her swollen cunt, pressing upwards just a bit as he looked up to gauge her reaction to the feeling.

Her mouth opened slightly, a hitched gasp as she practically folded in half; her back arched enough to wanting his touch so bad she couldn’t hardly stand it any longer.

“C’mon, show me more,” He urged, tapping at her leg softly, “Here—put it up here.”

On his knees, he was situated between her legs as he helped her foot urgently rest against his shoulder. He wanted the most access; the most visual for his own selfishness, as he felt his mouth water at the way she opened for him.

“Christ,” He muttered under his breath as his fingers came back up to directly press against her clit, watching as she held onto him for balance now. The soft pump of her heel dug into his shoulder, but he knew the pain was causing the adrenaline to shoot through his body. “Gonna’ fucking devour you.”

It doesn’t take any longer for his tongue to press against the center of her; the way that she falls into his touch only makes sense. The dirty tongue that had been speaking nonsensical words of affection was now tasting her in a way that felt obliged and dutiful.

“Fuck—fuck,” She whined, pulling at the hair to practically push his tongue further into her depths as he lapped up the wetness collecting around her.

“Knew you’d taste like a fucking dream,” He pushed against her thighs to keep her spread for him, his hair falling into his face as he sucked gently on her swollen clit, which led to her shuttering in practical defeat. “Fuck, Princess.”

The small play of a nickname sent her stomach into a fit, letting her hips lead her into the grasp of his tongue as she pulled at the curls that rested in the curls of his hair. She pulled it when she felt the way that he inserts his middle finger, lapping around the entrance as he buried his nose to nudge against her clit.

The small amount of penetration leads her body to need—to swell around him, as he pulls back just a bit as if the sensitivity had gotten the best of her. His tongue lapped at her entrance, spitting directly where she needed him most—as if it wasn’t wet enough; he loved knowing that she could writhe against him and soak him like this.

“I want you to—”

Notably, the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood of the chamber floors seemed to catch their attention. It’s enough that both of their fantasies push away in a moment, almost like their bubbles had burst with knowing that being caught wasn’t an option.

Harry pulls away from her thighs as she fumbles with pulling the black dress down her thighs, down to the knees where the proper length was prior to Harry’s fingers pushing it upwards. Her eyes dash to the ground before kicking the periwinkle lace underneath the sofa that sat directly in front of her.

Harry had managed to pull himself together, throwing a hand through his hair as he used the back of his palm along his mouth, as if finishing the best meal of his life. He had thrown himself down on the sofa, adjusting his belt so that his straining erection would be hidden.

She stayed standing behind the sofa, hands on her hips as she tried to pretend as if the conversation, they were having was routine; like they had planned to be alone for the past few moments, while the door opened to reveal her mother and a few aided members of the house to push past the door then.

“It’s absolutely preposterous—” Her mother stated to the dignitaries that followed in her path, before her eyes fell to her daughter—the Princess—with almost a look of relief, “There you are.”

The Princess reacted, but Harry could see as he sat in front of her with his legs crossed and his arms covering across his chest. He looked up at the woman in the dark green floor length gown, and others who had come in her wake.

“Sorry, I just came to, uh,” She couldn’t wrap her brain around any words that made sense as the slickness between her thighs came back into his thoughts, the way her thighs moved against one another made her entirely too aware of the whiplash that just occurred.

“She was having a bit of a panic. A prick grabbed her out in the garden welcome ceremony, and wouldn’t let go, so we just came to cool off.” Harry stated, looking up at Her Majesty, who happened to be the mother of the woman he had just furiously been giving a pleasureful tongue towards.

The knowingness of it made his heartbeat race; knowing what had happened before the doors of this room should have been felt just by the energy, but the two of them were keeping their lips shut as they tried to remain orderly.

“Oh,” The older woman nodded a few times, looking between Harry and her daughter before she pursed her lips, “Very well, then. Are you feeling a bit better?” She asked.

The girl nodded, giving a tight smile before she came around the other side of the sofa—Harry looked at her now, noticing that her hands were white knuckled as she held them behind her back. He bit the inside of his cheek before rubbing his hands down the thighs of his pants, drying the sweat from his palms.

“Yes, yes, I am, thank you,” She answered, before giving a subtle nod; her eyes made their way back to Harry. Their eye contact clicked immediately before she took in a breath and cleared her throat. The girl looked back to her mother after a moment, “Let’s go back, then. I will meet you there.”

Her Majesty gave a curt nod before she turned back towards the large doors and made her way out of them, back down towards where the gala was being held.

Harry let out a breath as he shut his eyes, almost feeling the weight coming outwardly from his chest.

“That was close.” He muttered.

He stood in his place, pushing off of the sofa before the girl tightened the ribbon on the back of her hair. He noticed that she may have not been able to see it clearly, watching her move towards the large mirror that hung against the wall. Her head tilted to be able to see behind her.

Harry moved to where she stood, his hands placing themselves on top of hers as he fixed the ribbon on the top of her head to let the strands hand down along the length of her hair—the tie now tight to keep her hair in place; the girl smiled at him in the mirror before he noticed the hazel draw of her eyes, aligning with the smirk that she sports now.

A silence fell over them, but it was almost as if they had to just go back to the duties of their dignified jobs, knowing that getting caught in the act wasn’t an option they were both able to handle. Harry grabbed the jacket from the edge of the sofa; readjusting his sleeves to normal down the throw of his arm before moving to follow the girl out of the room.

Her legs move towards the door that had been opened, Harry following hot on her lead as he found the strength of his voice, muttering a few words back at her as they trudged through the palace halls; notable faces in large paintings being the only ones to hear the filth to slide off of his tongue.

“Just know that I’m not finished,” he told her roughly, as she walked in front of him; his voice gathering right behind her as they fled out of the room and towards the main gardens that would hold the charity lunch that had been ignored prior. His hand slipped along the flat of her back as he felt the urge to hold her against him; this time in a much different way, “I want to see you tonight, back in the west wing.”

She held her shoulders back; continuing to feel his lips pressed against the inner thighs that felt bare, but obscenely voracious at the same time. “Is that an order?”

His smirk pressed against his lips as he stayed behind her; knowing that her lead was made to make him feel that she was in charge again. He knew deep down that was surely not the case.

“That is an order.”

Without her smirk seen, she nodded a few times, turning her head just a bit as the smirk wiped away from her face so he didn’t get the satisfaction of knowing he caused it.

“Very well.” She agreed, nodding softly before he stopped to look at her; noticing the way that her eyes fell towards his lips. They stood in the hall for a moment, her back towards him as he stood behind her in protective line as he had been arranged to do.

And in that moment, he urged the scent of her wildflower perfume to push through his equilibrium as he breathed out a subtle word of agreement to hers: “Very well.”

The sound of her heels echoed through his mind as he thought of the next time he’d be able to have her once again. On his terms, nonetheless.

[valuunit]

after midnight

summary: some steamy sex after dancing at the club with harry in his frat era.

title because im obsessed with chapelle roan, as you should

Content: She/her pronouns. smut (mdi), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, using a tie as a way to muffle sound ;), oral (m receiver), finguer fucking, clothed sex?, oh, a photo taken during sex, this oc is really stupid and horny, don’t show you’re face in an explicit pic of yourself wit someone new. that’s it ig :)

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if there’s any mistake I'm sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D

y/n

why did i agree to this? jesus, this is the shitiest-

“y/n, my miracle is here!” the strong mature voice of Patricia sends shivers down my spine.

“hi” i quietly say, accepting her hug.

“here, i want you to met someone.”

fuck. social interaction.

i’m so so tired for this, i just want to pet my beautiful dog and sleep cuddling with him.

“Michael! here she is, y/n, y/n that’s Michael Young, owner of the record label i told you.” she whispers the last bit. my attitude automatically changes, another rich man who wants more money.

a very well preserved old man turns around, he’s like the definition of daddy if i were attracted to him, he gives me a gentle handshake. “nice to meet you miss, i’ve heard great things about you.”

“thanks, it’s very nice to meet you too.” after that he kisses Patricia’s cheek and excuses himself, promising to get back a little later.

“well, that didn’t go as planned.”

i chuckled. “maybe in a bit will go better, he said he was coming back”

“that’s the equivalent of a guys promising you he’s calling you back after fucking.”

“oh, then forget about it, let’s drink!” i smile eyeing the open bar.

“you do you, honey, i’ll be here if you need me.”

“okay mother, thanks.” i love that woman even if she’s in my monthly payroll.

“love ya.”

i pass some people, looking for the edge of the bar, and fortunately it was empty. “hi, can i take an old fashioned, please?” the bar tender nodded. life like this is kinda good.

harry

“that girl, she’s fit.” louis said.

oh i know lou, i’ve been watching her since she stepped in the club.

“who?” niall said genuinely curious to look at a cute girl.

“there, in the leather jacket at the edge of the table.” louis kept trying to get a better look at her.

“you should go talk to her.” niall says after also looking.

“i think that harry’s job here, he’s been drooling here for her.”

“what?, no, i didn’t even saw her before you mentioned her.” you fucking liar. you even know her name and music.

“okay, then i’ll take the word from nialler here and go count that lady.” you’re a good player louis, but not the best.

he’s testing me to push myself to go there.

“no, not at all.” i simply reply.

“ehh! louis, louis, louis!” niall cheers.

and there he goes, confident steps but playing with his hands.

y/n

i feel a pair of eyes on my back, i try not to think to much about it, i’m here to enjoy myself not to pay attention for others.

“hi” a particular voice says.

i don’t reply, maybe it’s not for me, i don’t want to embarrass me.

“hey, you like it old fashioned?, you’re like a dad?” okay, maybe that is for me.

“yeah, i probably have someone pregnant rounding around the world. i’m at that stage of my life.” i simply replied.

they laughed “i might like you. i’m louis, nice to meet ya”

“hi, y/n” this is louis tomlinson, one of the most famous boys at the moment. if this was happening a couple of years ago i would probably pass out, but i’ve slowly realized that doesn’t matter you ‘status’, you should be treated as kindly and respectful as anyone.

“aren’t you going to invite me a drink?” he says offended, playin, obviously.

“yeah, because i’m the one who approached” i said smiling. “what would you like? it’s on me.”

“oh, becoming my sugar mommy, i get it. i’ll get a shot, tequila.”

“yeah, the free aspect does play a roll here.” he laughs again and looks to where he came from. “four shots of tequila please, extra lime.”

“two rounds, i for sure like you now.” he immediately takes one of the caballito, waiting for me.

“i was just hopping you’d get pleased with that and leave.” i also take one, he hums and aproches for slice of lime.

“damn, that’s tough, if you want me to leave you’re not going to achieve it giving me drinks.” he talks quickly, then proceeds to cheer and gut down the little but dangerous liquid. i follow.

“oof, party animal, aren’t ya?” a deep and also british voice comes in.

“harry!, your finally came, i thought i was gonna stay here all night mate.” he looks at me “not that i would mind”

i completely turn around to look at a curly haired guy, he’s also really handsome, and how not? he’s harry styles.

“ah, yeah, thanks man, see you?” his confused comment makes me laugh.

“yeah, whatever you say. it was really nice to meet you, y/n, hope we can finish this round one day.” he pats the back of his friend and gets out. damn, what the fuck.

“am, i’m really sorry ‘bout that, i’m harry though, you’re y/n?”

“yeah, no it’s fine, if you want you can finish the shots with me?” i say also confused, he looks so nervous and i don’t know why, i'm not that scary am i?

“sure, thanks.” and it becomes silent. well, the conversation with louis was better, that’s for sure.

we swallow the drinks and when i reach out for the fruit i find his hands in the same one i was about to grab, i quickly change my election, and he does as well, i laugh at the awkwardness. he smiles at that.

“i heard your album. it’s amazing.”

“what? you’ve heard my album.” a say fascinated while sucking the last bit of sour liquid.

“what? are you surprised i listen to good music?” he smiled and smooths his chin.

“i wouldn’t say that, i just thought it didn’t reached that many people for you to listen to it.”

“what do you mean? it’s hit after hit, it’s really popular.”

“well, i don’t often look at the logistics of it. but thanks, i wasn’t really sure about it, nor my record label i almost got dropped.”

“well, they’re losers, it’s great.” he smiles and i also do, it’s really nice to heard that from someone who doesn’t know me, it feels genuine.

“i feel like i have to return the compliment but i haven’t heard 1D in like one year, ahm, i really love c’mon c’mon.” he and i laugh.

“yeah, i don’t blame you.” he suddenly looks uncomfortable.

“i’m really sorry.” i try to read his eyes, he was looking at a light above, but now his eyes are back on mine, he doesn’t look as happy as some people seem when they talk about something the love, like music. “you’re not satisfied, are you?”

“you could say that in a lot of aspects.” he smirks.

“okay, i don’t wanna hear it.” i say laughing nervously.

“let’s not talk about this depressing stuff. wanna dance?”

“sure, i’d love to.”

he takes my hand to make sure i don’t get lost in the crowd, he pauses for a second to give louis a warning look when he makes quiet wolf whistles.

“he’s an idiot, sorry.”

“i figured, no problem.”

promiscuous is blasting across the club, this song is sexy and i’m with a sexy guy, i must be a little sexy.

i’m against his chest, the room between our bodies is none, and the space we have to dance is limited, but we can make it work.

i see him starting to sway his shoulders first, trying to get used to the beat. i put my arms on his obliques, also starting to sway my hips, looking at his chest tattoos.

his hands go under my leather jacket and stay in between my hips and my waist, following me. i hear him pant, his mouth is slightly parted and his forehead falls to mine.

“can i take this?” he grabs the tie that hangs loosely in my neck, trying to distract himself for the erection i feel near my left hip.

“sure” we separate out heads and he puts it around his neck, the red looks good on him.

harry

she’s the hottest, most gorgeous person i’ve met.

her lips are as bright as the tie i just grabbed from her beautiful neck, i really want to kiss her. but maybe she’s not into me in that way.

“fuck, how are you so hard, a minute has hardly passed” her voice is deeper than before. i feel slightly embarrassed, but also no.

“that’s the reaction my body has with you.” i say honestly. some say that fake it till you make it, and that what i’m gonna do, fake confidence, maybe it’ll let me somewhere good.

she hums and looks at me in the eyes, to the lips and back at my eyes, with a bright smile and a dark look.

she grabs the tie, pulling me to her, we’re centimeters apart. when i’m about to kiss her she speaks.

“may i kiss you?” she whispers. this might be the hottest thing she’s done so far, or maybe the tie thing it’s.

“of fucking course.”

y/n

this kiss is as alex turner would say, were teeth collide.

is desperate, full of the sexual tension we’ve managed to build, and i couldn’t want it any other way.

we dance, grind, kiss and even moan, at least me, for what seems like the entire night, but when we take our make out session to the back of the building it seems like it barely 12 in the morning.

“jesus, love, i would love to take you home.” he says between wet neck kisses, all i reply is a fervent nod.

after that i feel his warm and big hand on my cheek, making me look at him, then is when i reply with actual words. “we can go back to my place, it not far and it’s alone.” i smile.

“you sure?”

“yeah, if you want.” he smiles and pecks my lips, i don’t know why his hand here makes me wanna melt against it.

“of course, love. it’s better than a shared hotel room.”

“yeah, probably.”

we decide to walk, it’s like i said not far away. the walk was definitely less heated, but it was something.

he asked if he could borrow my purse or my jacket to hide his boner, i laughed so much at that. but the outfit ended up amazingly on him, with the red tie and the also red small bag in his hands contrasting with his all black base.

as soon as i get home blake jumps, almost to the height of my head.

“i’m sorry, honey, i had somewhere to be.”

i think this might kill the mood, maybe not.

“who is this little bud?” harry asked when blake started sniffing his legs. i hang my jacket on a chair and take my purse from harry’s hand, leaving it in the same spot.

“blake, i hope he doesn’t bother you.”

“what, how could he.” he kneeled petting his puffy black hair. “right bud?, you’re adorable” blake turned into his back, to get some love in his belly.

okay, this is really cute, i feel bad for getting wet at the sight of him like this, being sweet to my dog.

“want a drink?, water, vodka, tequila?”

“no, i’m fine. i would prefer to get back were we left it.” blake has lost his interest on him and went to his bed.

“okay, you can go to my room, i’ll be there in a minute.” he looks around the house looking for the destination, “upstairs.” he nods and heads up. “blake. i have some… stuff to do, so please don’t cockblock me, please love, you’ll get a lot of treats tomorrow.” his ears move when he hears ‘treats’.

i grab a cushion from the couch and put it at the beginning of the stairs, hoping he can’t jump over it. “love ya, i’m really sorry if you hear something!” i whisper-scream.

getting near the door i smooth my skirt out and take may hair out of my face.

when i enter harry is sitting at the edge of my bed, he’s cheeks look very red now that i see them in a different light. i smile at him and he smiles at me.

“you look great in red. in your cheeks and my tie” i whisper as i sit in his lap.

“thanks, i might borrow it for another day.”

“you’re still, you know, hard?” i say almost laughing at how cringe that sounded to me.

“you’re wet?” he says. i nod, desperate to kiss him. “perfect.”

his hands crawls up my knee, ass and thigh, reaching my underwear, which was very much soaked.

“i feel flattered, love, i haven’t touched you and look at this” he makes me stand in my knees and slides my panties down my legs, finally showing the mess i made. “we’re gonna keep the skirt if that’s fine with you” i nod and he kisses me.

as soon as the kisses starts it becomes a kiss full of passion. he undoes my white shirt and i do the same with his black shirt.

he’s now laying down, his legs hanging from the bed and im right in top of him, my core against his belt, which feels weird in a good way.

i moan when he sits down, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it backwards. “your really pretty when you’re all flustered.”

he slides the shirt down my shoulders and for my bralette he slides it upwards, passing through my head.

“i feel like you have an advantage here.” i look down his opened shirt and pants, hell, he even has his shoes on.

“take whatever you want.” he smiles and kisses the in middle of my breasts.

i hug his neck with both of my arms, letting him please me with his kisses and bites in my chest.

he pays equal attention to both, i think he gave the same amount of bites to each, i don’t know, i was enjoying myself to much to care.

when i fell his mouth starting to separate from me i begin to go down his body, taking the tie and the shirt off, kissing his shoulder, chest, stomach and his boner from above the denim material.

he groans desperately but doesn’t move, just seats there with his hands on each side of his body. “you’re really a tease, baby.” he whispers.

“i think it will be worth it.” i say, quickly undoing his jeans and sliding off his boxer, leaving his cock free.

i think of what to do for a second, i could do a handjob or a blowjob, i finally decide in a hybrid.

i first take his length in my right hand, slowly feeling his body react, his legs move a bit and his body leans back. i then start to move down, making my eyes align with his crotch, and with my hand still in the base i start by wrapping my mouth at the tip. his makes a beautiful sharp gasp.

“god’s fucking sake.” he decides to look down at me, looking deep into my eyes.

harry

her eyes are gonna be the death of me. she can look evil but also innocent. and that makes me want to take her right now and leave her dumb fucked.

my dick disappears in her mouth, over and over again, i don’t know how she manages to keep a consistent move in her hands and in her mouth, including her tongue and her head. the guitar must help her multitasking abilities.

“love, t-that s-sss amazing. ah, but i w-won’t last a lot longerr and i will like to do sooo… much m-more with y-ya…”

she gets my dick out of her mouth, god that’s so dirty, an i love it. but yeah, she does so, chuckling a bit with a sense of pride, some drool goes down her chin, she’s perfect.

“okay, next time i guess.” fuck yeah, hopefully.

“now it’s my turn” she come back up, sitting her naked clit into my semi, this little minx jumped into my dick, and she knows it, she smiles.

“sorry.”

“you’re not.” i smile.

“no, i’m not.” she smiles.

“but you will.” i grab her hips from under the washed denim mini skirt and switched our position, leaving her laying down on her chest and me above her, looking at the greatest fucking view; her face was looking at me over her shoulder, he naked back and her skirt rolled up, leaving nothing to the imagination, her ass was in perfect alignment with my eyes.

i decided to be a little wild and spank her, she moaned, but i quickly turned to look at her “was that okay?”

“yeah… fucking perfect.” she moaned more.

“who would’ve thought…” i say, giving her another one, this one harder, making her cheeks giggle.

i pull her skirt even further, and also pulled from her hips to make her stick her ass up, giving me better access to her clit. i begin caressing her outer lips, soft touches to get her desperate and my fingers getting lubricated.

i inserted one of them, the ring finger to be specific. she moans softly, pushing her hips back. “more…”

“patience, love, want to cherish the moment.” but i do what she says, i enter another and begin to diversify my movements. when i get to a specific and wet point i feel her body shake.

“t-t… there.” she sighs “right therrre.” she purrs.

she looks so angelic like this: baby hairs stick to her sweaty forehead, eyes closed, mouth open full or profane sounds, i also see her stimulating her breasts, just like she could read my mind.

when i put my third finger in i feel her lips stretch, so i turn my hand, she screams at my move. “shh… we don’t want to scare blake, or anyone for that matter. would hate for someone to interrupt, right?”

“mhm” she opens her eyes, they are watering now, i don’t know whether to worry or to be turned on.

“everything okay there, baby?” i ask pulling her hair to the side to look at her fully.

“gr-great!” she sights when i touch her newly founded button.

i feel some more palpitating, some more stretching and i see her jaw being clenched. she’s close.

“you’re getting there, aren’t you?”

“yess! i’m goo…” sight “gonna cum.” her hips push against my hand, i took my index finger out because it felt like i couldn’t move my hand at all.

“patience baby, let it all out” i groan at her cunt stretching around my hand.

she screams my name, might be my new favorite sound of all time. it’s a mix of a hoarse and sweet voice.

she stops moving her hips i see a bit of liquid being thrown against my still moving hand, she squirted. i try really hard not to cum also.

she pants and groans. one hand reaches to mine, telling me to stop.

“good job, love” i slowly take my hand up and taste her discard. i then lean to kiss her cheek.

“want you inside of me” she whispers against the mattress.

“of course baby, just waiting for you to catch your breath at least.” i chuckle. she pouts but stays still.

“i’m fine. i just want you to fuck me.” she looks at me undress completely. biting her lip as she check me out.

“ouch, wouldn’t thought you’ll just use me like that, love, thought this was real.” i say jokingly offended and also a bit nervous. maybe this is just a one night thing, and i wouldn’t like it to end like this.

“maybe it is, but i would really like you to fuck me good so i can consider you as a potential candidate.”

nice answer, miss y/n.

“fine, firstly, do you have any condoms?” she sakes her head no.

“i’ve got iud and clean. if you’re up and clean we can make it raw.” she says nonchalantly.

“fucking hell” i go to kiss her mouth, gripping her cheek harshly, “i’ll make you scream really loud, so i think we could put this to some more use”, i say taking the tie from the floor.

she smiles, curious. i hover over her body again, pass the tie through her head to stop at her mouth, tightening it.

“wow” she barely says.

“you can grip me at the arm of you want to stop, okay?” she nods. “show me” she takes my forearm and tightens her grip around it two times. “good girl.” i kiss her cheek again.

i look down, she still has that fucking skirt i hope every time she uses it she remembers who fucked her in that, i direct my dick into her clit. i soak my tip into her cum and wetness.

and finally i enter, our mouth open at the contact, i thrust slowly and fully, i stay there “goodness, this is g-ood.” i whisper in her ear, she moans quietly.

“look at me angel.” she deserves the nickname. i could take a picture of this obscene and artistic piece. “can i take a picture?, i promise ill protect it with my life…”

she hesitates a bit, but when she looks at me in the eyes she nods “yeah”.

i lean over to the bedside table, take my phone and quickly snap one time.

“move?” she says.

“as you wish.” i let my phone slide off my hand and focused solely on her.

i put one hand next to her face , the other went to her hip. giving me the base i need to get her good.

my hips roll against hers, looking at her face to her ass and back and forth.

i quickly gain a fast, hard and pleasing pace.

she hides her face into the pillow and grips the bedsheets tightly. her muffled moans and screams, my groans and screams and the sound of our bodies colliding is the only sound i listen to, and maybe in a 1 mile radius.

“doing good, l-love?” i ask her, my breathing is shaky, maybe not that sexy.

“mhm.” she turn her face to look at me “y-yesh…”

“look so fricking good like this…” i wished i could look at her full face.

she screams something that sounds like my name, and i know i need to she her climaxing around my dick.

“we’re g-gonna turn…” groan “you around, ‘right?”

“yeahyeahyeah” she said.

“h-hug, hug your leg darling.” i pat her left leg , she struggles a bit but makes it. with the force i have i turn her almost limb body.

she moans when her back hits the mattress and i thrust into her faster, while kissing her face, she entangles both her hands in my hair, pulling. fuck.

“hmm. c-c… cum!” she sights into my neck.

thanks love, i wouldn’t like to burst before you.

“perfect. relax, baby…” i groan, struggling to keep that fast of a pace, she’s squeezing my dick so hard and i might come way too fast.

“ha… haffy!” she screams again.

“i’m cu…ming love.”

i feel her groaning at the overstimulation, so i give a final thrust and let it all out.

y/n

i’ve been talking with harry for probably 30 minutes, after last night fucking midblowing fuck i barely was awake, but harry made me change into some pajamas and then he changed the bedsheets. it was the best aftercare ever.

“would you like to go for a coffee later in the evening?” he says looking at me with his beautiful green eyes.

“yeah, as long as blake can come.” i say jokingly.

“of course, love, little man is always welcome.”

“see? that’s what makes me want you every day and every night!” i hit his chest lightly, he chuckles. “you can’t say shit like that, i’ll get attached.”

“is that something wrong?” he smiles. “i also want you, i really like you, and it might be too soon, but i would like to get to know you and be something else.”

“i would love that too.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Jealous Student

Wanda Maximoff x Nerd!Reader (High School AU)

You’ve been dating popular girl and magic user Wanda Maximoff for close to a few months at this point.

Honestly you’ve been on cloud nine. You and Wanda knew everything about one another already thanks to your strong friendship. Everyone in Wanda’s friend circle approved of you.

It didn’t matter to Wanda that you were a nerd, you were her nerd.

Everything was going well or so you thought. It was around this time that a foreign exchange student came in. His name was Vision Jarvis, a proper British chap.

It didn’t take long, literally five minutes of walking on to campus to make a beeline for your girlfriend.

“Excuse me, miss?” The proper British accent showing, “can you tell me where I can locate Mr Fury’s class?”

“Yes that’s Y/N and mine’s class” she explains, gesturing to you.

“Perfect. I’m Vision.” He shakes her hand and kisses her knuckles.

“Wanda” she gives a smile.

“And I’m Y/N” you give him a handshake, trying not to show the jealousy brewing in your very soul.

Wanda gives your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you guide Vision to your class.

Vision quickly starting hanging out with you and Wanda. He quickly gained the affection of all your friends.

“Watch out, Hufflepuff” Tony Stark warns you within the week.

“What?”

“Proper British dude? The accent?” He explains, “no girl can resist any accent.”

“I take it you used an accent when you asked out Pepper?”

“Didn’t fool her at all but I did make her laugh” he smirks.

Vision was seeming awful chummy with Wanda. He was a fan of Dick Van Dyke and Florence and the Machine.

Somehow you felt that you were starting to become the third wheel.

You approach Wanda during lunch, handmade lunches in tow. “Hey Wanda, I was wondering if you wanted to continue our Harry Potter marathon tonight”

“Harry Potter?” Vision chimes, “i love the Wizarding World!”

“Uhh…Vision was wondering if he could tag along.” Wanda looks at you uneasy.

“Oh” you find your voice brimming with sadness, “well…uhh…”

Vision interrupts, “Wanda I was inquiring if you and Y/N would like to join me for tea later”

“Well Vis the thing is-“ Wanda tries to say. But it was too late you walked away, a few tears making their way down your cheek.

“Detka?!” Wanda calls out to you before chasing after you.

“You seem awful chummy with him” you state, trying to keep from being heard by anyone else but her.

“Vis? Well he’s new.” Wanda tries to explain.

“It’s the accent right?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You like him. You like Vision more than me” you finally blurt out.

“No I don’t.” Wanda looks at you so confused.

“Does he even know we’re dating? No one is ever that chummy with someone unless they’re into you”

“Y/N will you just listen?” Wanda takes your face in her hands, “Detka you’re the one I love.”

Vision walks up to you and Wanda, “I apologize for interrupting, but Vivian invited me out for coffee.”

“Vivian?” You ask.

“Yes. She is quite lovely. Thank you both so much for being my friends recently.” Vision finishes, “I hope I haven’t caused any strife. By the way you make such a lovely couple”

“T-thank you” you shake his hand as he walks over to a young girl.

Wanda looks to you, a little cocked eyebrow, “was my detka jealous?”

“Maybe.” You whisper. “It’s just that you’re so amazing and I’m so…bland”

“No you’re not.” Wanda giggles pulling you into a hug. “You are just right…for me.”

“So do you wanna have a Harry Potter marathon, my Slytherin?”

“With only you, my Hufflepuff” Wanda gives you a kiss on the nose.

You turn to go to class but Wanda stops you. She pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “I think we can afford to play hooky at least once in our lives.”

The two of you quickly run out of Avengers High. Tony simply smirks, being the only person to see the two of you leaving.

One day out on the town won’t kill your grades. But one life without Wanda would be unbearable.

Tags @natashaswife4125 @jacelion @lifespectator @aloneodi @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @iamnicodemus @russianredassassin @kathleenmikaelson @kingofthelizardpeople @supercorpdanbeau @scarletwitch-n7 @family-house-of-m

[hogwartsfirebolt]

yes, and

It was a no for so long. A rejected handshake, long years of tipping different sides of a scale. No, Harry wouldn’t talk to him. No, Harry wouldn’t look at him even though Draco sought his gaze with a mindless desperation only possible because they were so young. No, Harry wouldn’t try to save him, even though he saved everyone else. No, no, no.

Yet fate’s puppeteering hands acted in mysterious ways, beyond anything he’d ever been able to comprehend. No, he wasn’t saved, but he was … pardoned. No, he couldn’t take back everything he’d already messed up by then, but he could atone. Community service, two years of it in the kitchens of the Ministry, with the long tables and magic dictating every move, every stir of a spoon. He did his time at first grudgingly, sick on the scent of spices that clung to his apron and the way the still air would make the back of his hair stand on end, but as months passed and he became familiar with the intricate, purposeful magic he needed to master to cook, and the people working beside him, he came to love it. The twin chefs who were his bosses, Poppy and Aspen, were outrageously funny in a foul-mouthed way, and halfway through the year they were already inviting Draco and the other sous-chefs to their flats to have game nights and sparkly drinks. No, his friends from school wouldn’t even hear from him, his letters would return unopened and no, his parents weren’t home, but abroad, exiled, forbidden from making contact. No, he had no family left. But the mismatched group of five who spent their mornings charming potatoes out of their peels with him began to tug at his heart.

No, they didn’t have much in common, but they got him, he got them. This was a connection that was unblemished, for the first time in his life, untainted by his background. It was brilliant, sun-water bliss, and in it, he had the chance to nurture parts of himself he’d only peripherally known about and let them bloom. What he found was that, stripped of the need to be cleverer than everyone else, his opinion was seen as smart, valued, and taken seriously. What he found was that, stripped of ill intent, his jokes and drama were actually quite well received, with loud laughs and occasionally clutched stomachs, tear-streaked cheeks. They loved his theatrics, would go hysterical over his imitation of the stand-offish inflection of the Unspeakables when they came to get their lunch, the brutish tone of the Cursebreakers, the loud laugh of the Auror force.

And well, no, it wasn’t all sunshine and flowers; no, they didn’t entirely get him sometimes, wouldn’t understand why he didn’t want to serve the Aurors their meal, ever. They could understand that he hated serving in general, why he much preferred staying safely inside the kitchen over spooning food onto trays and handing it to Ministry employees who all looked at him like he was a joke at best, or pretended he was entirely invisible at worst; but they couldn't comprehend why he’d serve the haughty Unspeakables and daft Cursebreakers with mild irritation, but went pale when faced with the generally well-liked Aurors. No, they definitely didn’t get it, so no, he couldn’t always avoid it, had to bribe Cooper to trade his serving day for her butter-churning day, had to beg Luisa out of her dish-washing week so she’d mind the counter, had to promise Pip a bottle of wine whenever he took over his serving duties, but there were times when no, nobody wanted to trade, and no, he couldn’t do anything but suck up and do it.

One such day, queuing in between a group of arrogant Unspeakables and a pair of thick-headed Cursebreakers, came Harry Potter. No, it wasn’t the first time Draco had been forced to serve him but no, it never got any easier. Draco tended to avoid his gaze, to pretend the bowl of pasta he was holding was far more interesting than the wild man standing in front of him in blood-crimson robes for a few short minutes each day, hoping he’d just go away as swiftly as possible. But no, Harry had never let things be simple between them. Because no, Harry wasn’t like the others, but not only for the obvious reasons. Despite their — frankly titanic — history, the truth was that no, Harry didn’t look at him like he was a joke, wouldn’t pretend Draco was invisible, and honestly wouldn’t even look at him with derision anymore. He just … looked. No, he didn’t stay quiet, not content with pretending Draco didn’t exist. Instead, he asked questions. He’d say “hey, how are you doing?”, he’d say, “hey, bit cold today, right?”, he’d say, “hey, do you think we could talk, maybe?”

And no. Draco most definitely did not think they could talk. He opened his mouth to say as much, because no, what did they even have to talk to each other about? But Harry must have sensed it, because he added, “Please?” Open and earnest, one word dripping with the easy confidence he’d carried for a lifetime, the unassuming kind.

It had been a no for so long, for so many good reasons. But not all of those reasons remained true, not even most of them — they’d been swept away by the stream of time, by life allowing the pieces that had held each of them slot into their fated place, no longer on opposing sides of a scale. Draco heard the sound of his own voice say, “yes.” He said, “yes, alright.”

And suddenly, a lot of things shifted, things that had been a firm, unmovable no.

And then they were yes.

Yes, he went to get drinks with Harry and they talked. Yes, he promised he’d hear Harry out without fighting. Yes, he was sorry too. Yes, he wanted a fresh start.

Yes, he was free next week at the same time.

Then, as a knit jumper catches on a nail and unspools, a friendship with Harry was pulled out of him, accidentally, irrevocably.

Harry kept asking, and Draco kept answering, yes. Yes, Draco was free that night, yes, Draco liked Japanese food and would love to get some, yes, Draco would hear the speech Harry had written for the function and tell him very, very honestly if he thought it was shit (it wasn’t). Yes, he’d be at the function himself. Yes, fine, they could match their neckties.

Their back and forth became an exercise of yes, and. They’d always connected in a way that went beyond logic, only now that they were using it to work alongside each other instead of against each other, they were unstoppable and unbearable and so much fun that Draco’s ribs hurt from how hard he laughed most days. He’d imitate the cretin Unspeakables and Harry would say, “yes, and how about this caviar?” while poking the Ministry’s rice and beans. Then Draco would say something purposefully daft and Harry would whack him over the head and ask him if he was a pea-brained Cursebreaker.

Harry would have Draco over at his flat and show him the thread-board of his latest case and work through what he knew out loud in case Draco could spot something he hadn’t, and most of the time Draco didn’t even have to say anything, would only open his mouth to say, “Have you thought that maybe —?” And Harry would exclaim, “You’re so right, I should interrogate the reporter.” And when he solved that case with absolutely no real input from Draco whatsoever, he had him over at his flat again and clinked their wine glasses together with a huge smile and said, “Couldn’t have done this without you, really.”

Yes, Draco’s help had been non-existent, but oh yes, he adored the appreciation. And yes, those glasses of wine flowed incredibly quickly and yes, Draco had tried mezcal once and he was very open to trying it again and yes, he was one hundred percent sure he could knock back that shot quicker than Harry and yes — they were spectacularly drunk a short two hours after getting to Harry’s flat.

Yes, it was insane that this should be happening, but it … also wasn’t. They were friends. They were good friends. No, he hadn’t wanted to show the rougher sides of his personality at first, even if Harry had at one point known them better than most people. Draco was hesitant, their budding friendship felt delicate, and he knew he was a bit much, much too coarse, much too rude most times, that anyone would think so, that they’d be right if they did. But there was something in Harry that made his resolve to hide crack open like an egg and he found himself just being. It was something in the way Harry knew who he was, knew exactly why he was there, yet he seemed to want him, continuously. Want his opinion, his support, his ideas and conversation, his jokes, mean as they occasionally were.

Most of their free time was spent seeking one another or trading barbs and anecdotes through quick-floo notes. Cooper and Luisa had a field day with it, made fun of Draco relentlessly when Harry came in for lunch and they’d snatch the three seconds he spent queuing to chat, would call Harry his man, his boyfriend. Chefs Poppy and Aspen would draw chia seed hearts on Harry’s toast and wink, acted as though they were doing him a favor. And yes, Harry found it hysterical. He’d blow Draco kisses over his toast, call him sweetie pie and bonbon where the others could hear and yes, Draco pinked and raged and returned it by bringing Harry’s tray to his table the next day, where he sat with his loud Auror bunch, and saying, “For you, pumpkin.” Yes, he savored Harry’s spluttering thanks, walked back into the kitchen with a grin.

But yes, that night at Harry’s flat, when Draco settled in on the big green sofa and Harry handed him a cup of homemade sangria saying, “here, love,” it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

It was a no for so long, but Harry’s wine-stained lips grazing his felt not like a first time, but a hundredth, a thousandth, a lifetime of a connection that had shapeshifted but always existed, and probably always would. So maybe, going back around to it, giving it some thought, peeling back the layers … it had truly always been a yes, deep down. A yes, and.

Read on ao3

[erodasfishtacos]

One Night Only - MSG

Prompt: When Brittany met Harry

Warnings: none

If you would like to get two week early release, exclusive content/tropes, among other benefits - consider signing up for my Patreon for $3 a month :)

-

Despite everyone thinking Harry had a secret tiktok account, he really didn’t, sometimes YN would show him funny videos but he didn’t have the app.

YN obviously knew who Brittany Broski was because she was so famous on the app, first from the kambucha video and then for her love of Harry.

They were throwing around ideas of who should host the One Night Only in New York for Harry’s house and YN had thrown her name in the ring because she thought it would be amazing.

When Brittany accepted, she was already in New York for the show luckily, and YN was ready to greet her with her friend when they were led backstage before the show.

As soon as Brittany spots YN, who is waiting near the dressing rooms, the tiktoker gasps and looks at the camera that’s filming her.

“Oh my god, she’s more gorgeous in real life,” Brittany whispers to the camera, “I’m about to meet YN Styles better known as the luckiest girl in the world. She gets to kiss that man whenever she wants. Life goals.”

Brittany’s obviously nervous as she walks towards YN who is chatting with Lambert and Jeff, they haven’t noticed her yet.

Unfortunately the first thing she blurts out when she arrives in front of them and they look at her is (all in a British accent), “Hello, I’m Brittany. Harry’s future second wife. It’s a pleasure.”

She wishes she could swallows those words back up, her face turning bright red, and her eyes widen comically - terrified she just offended the real Mrs. Styles.”

“Thank god, you can have him. He’s a pain in my ass,” YN laughs loudly, ignoring Brittany’s handshake and pulling her into a hug, “Thank you for agreeing to host this tonight for Instagram!”

Brittany relaxes a bit, hugging her back tightly, and when they pulls away, Brittany speaks to the camera and says, “Note to the viewers, YN smells like vanilla and lavender. It’s amazing.”

Then Brittany is pulling out her phone, remembering she has a job to do, “Okay, I am supposed to ask you some fan questions. But can I ask you a few first?”

YN still has a wide smile on her face, Brittany can’t help but notice her large diamond ring sparkling in the light, “Ask away.”

“What is it like to have your name tattooed on Harry Styles’ arm and your wedding anniversary on his thigh?”

A startled laugh comes from YN, Jeff and Lambert also chuckling in good spirits, YN pauses not quite sure how to answer, “It’s nice. They were actually both a surprise to me. He got my name one random day in LA when he was touring there for Take Me Home with the band. And got our wedding date on our honeymoon in Italy.”

“Nice nice, what a romantic lad,” Brittany responds before asking, “Harry Styles’ recently told Rolling Stones Magazine that nearly every song he’s written is about you. Thoughts?”

“I think he was just trying to get on my good side,” YN jokes fondly before becoming more serious, “We’ve been through a lot together. We’ve gone through these good and bad experiences as we were growing up together. Most of our time and memories are intertwined and that really influences his music.”

“Awesome, one finally question,” Brittany states and is still nervously giggling because YN was so pretty and nice, “What does Harry do that gives you the ick? TikTok argues that he doesn’t do anything that can give anyone the ‘ick’”?

YN purses her lips as she thinks, “He sometimes takes a nap after he works out, still sweaty and gross. That definitely gives me the ick.”

“You heard it here first, ladies and gents,” Brittany announces to the camera before hugging YN again and cutting the video.

-

It was made clear to Brittany that she wouldn’t have the chance to meet Harry because he was too busy before the show - which honestly she was okay with she always joked that she couldn’t meet him.

Management and the camera crew had led Brittany to a set of doors where they told her she would be interviewing some fans but when she walks in, she freezes when she sees none other than Harry Styles.

She automatically walks away, giggling wildly and not knowing what to do for a moment before walking back in where he greets her warmly with a hug and laughs at her fake British accent.

Harry thanks her for hosting the pre-show and coming to the show - sincerity in his voice as he makes eye contact with those glimmering green eyes.

Brittany can’t help but say, “Honestly, this is so exciting. I got to meet YN earlier and she’s even hotter in person.”

That makes Harry bark out a laugh, looking back to where YN is sitting on the couch with Glenne, beckoning her over.

“I can definitely agree with you on that one,” He chuckles before wrapping his arm around YN’s shoulder and kissing her temple - they’re so cute she could cry.

-

Later on, Brittany hops on live as she’s wiping off her makeup and back in her hotel room.

“It was the best experience ever. I’m actually glad I met them. They are by far the most unfairly attractive couple on this earth.”

“Harry smelled just like the Tom Ford cologne. YN smelled like vanilla and lavender,” Brittany responds as she peels off her fake eyelashes.

“I saw Harry grab her ass like ten times in a matter of minutes. They are definitely not a fake couple. They’re married for Christ sake. It’s blatantly obvious how in love they are, Harry followed her around and kept kissing her.”

[winniemaywebber]

care-taking - muse a rubs muse b’s arms repeatedly to get some warm into them

or

intimacy - muse a braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair

for whichever couple sparks your imagination!

-lestweforget5

I know you said "or," but each prompt was so perfect for each couple that I couldn't decide. So, you're getting a two-fer :')

(under the cut to save space)

care-taking - muse a rubs muse b’s arms repeatedly to get some warm into them.

“Well, ladies and gentleman,” the bandleader calls out to the patrons. “It’s your last chance; time for the final dance of the evening. Thanks to you all for joining us at Minton’s.” He turns, baton raised in a paused stance to ready his band members for their final number. With a swish of the stick, the band swells into ‘Pennsylvania 65000’, the girls pulling their tired husbands to their feet for the last time that night.

Jean Crosby and Jo Rosenthal had been swapping husbands all night, depending on the tune. They had figured out long ago that Bing enjoyed slow dances with his wife, pressed up close and heads pushed together softly as they swayed. “Two left feet,” he’d always complain, apologetically looking towards Jo as he’d tentatively dance with her to the more upbeat numbers, while Jo let her borrow her Robbie every now and then to throw her around the dancefloor, her head thrown back in fits of giggles and joy as she was spun over and over. 

The girls, knowing one another well enough by this point to communicate wordlessly, had silently agreed to switch partners halfway through the number. With a sly wink, Jean sidles up to her husband and takes him by the hand. “Come on, Bing!” she slurs. “It’s all in the hips.”

“Really? Looks like it’s all in the feet to me,” he guffaws, kissing his wife on the temple as he attempts to move in beat with the music. 

As the song ends, the group begin to grab their coats and bags, quickly exiting to beat traffic. They stop at a crossroads, the Rosenthals walking the few blocks home while Jean and Harry wait for a cab to Jean’s mother’s house.

“Call you tomorrow,” Jo says, kissing her best friend on the cheek. “We need to talk about what we’re bringing to the potluck next week.” “Oh, yes!” Jean cheers. “I’m hoping that Olive brings Victoria sponge cake again.” “I’m hoping for Vika’s dabeli. Mmmm,” she moans, her eyes closed in momentary ecstasy. “Well, darn it, now I’m hungry,” she grumbles, her husband wrapping his arm around her after bidding farewell to Croz with a firm handshake and hug, promising to meet him at the Crosby residence the next week for their game of golf with the other fellas. “Bye, Jean!” “Bye, doll!”

The cold air seems to hit Jean like a freight train the second their friends depart, as if their friendship was the thing keeping her warm in the winter night. She shivers lightly in her thin evening dress, feeling goosebumps erupt all over her fair skin. 

“Say, didn’t ya bring a coat, Mrs Crosby?” Harry enquires, his brow softly furrowed in concern. 

“No,” she shivers in reply, wrapping her hands over her arms. “A coat didn’t go with this dress or my shoes, and I couldn’t seem to find my wrap. It was warm enough when we left,” she complains, her eyes closing in regret. “I was so busy getting the little guy ready for my mother that I didn’t even think–”

“Here,” Harry says, running his warm palms over his wife’s arms and shoulders, before peeling off his dinner jacket, draping it around her shoulders. She is suddenly enveloped in his warmth, the beautiful scent of her betrothed softly creeping into her nostrils and warming her instantly. Pulling her close, he rakes his fingers through her curls and kisses her on the forehead. “There, my little wife. All better now.” 

intimacy - muse a braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair.

(tw: being sick, v0miting mentioned)

Olive Douglass had awoken on Monday morning with a pit in her stomach. She had got up, made coffee for herself and her husband before packing his lunch for the day, and placed a cake in a box for the whole War Department to share. Her stomach had begun swirling as the coffee brewed, her mouth filling with saliva at the scent of it.

 “Jesus,” she’d gagged, swallowing the incoming bile down and burning her esophagus in the process. A sheen of sweat slaps at her body, the sudden temperature surge almost making her pass out.

“Good morning, beloved,” Dougie had called as he walked into the kitchen, beginning to pour coffee from the freshly brewed pot. Olive smiles weakly at her husband, hoping he doesn’t see her peaky complexion from where he’s stood. “Ollie!” he gasps, plonking the coffee cup down and rushing over to her. “Honey, you don’t look good.” “Oh, thanks,” she snorts, wiping at her brow with a tea towel. “I’m fine, truly,” she lies, the pair of them hearing her stomach suddenly churn.

“No, honey, beautiful as always but…”

She cuts him off, pushing him away and very ungracefully barfing in the sink. He’d somehow sensed it was coming, him instantly grabbing at her hair to pull it out of her face. “Oh, my poor baby,” he had soothed, rubbing her back with his fingers in slow, methodical circles. “Back to bed, Mrs Douglass.”

“Nooo,” she’d protested, head coming up from the sink. “I need to clean this and–” “I’ve got it. Let me just call work–”

“I’m fine!” his wife weeps, still protesting as her stomach turns once again, the scent of coffee disagreeing with her for the first time in her life. “No, honey.” “Yes,” he had replied forcefully, his hand on her forehead. “Bed, now.”

It was now Wednesday, and Olive had been bed bound for two whole days under her husband’s orders. After a twelve hour break from vomiting, it was back with a vengeance, Olive snapping herself bolt upright to aim into the bowl James had set by the bed. As she gags and dry heaves, the room spins and her head pounds, pulling her own hair back into a messy bun as she is too weak to call downstairs for help. Raking a hand through her hair, she encounters a giant knot where the bun has been sitting every time she’s tied it up. She grumbles and groans, intent on making it to her vanity across the bedroom, even if she has to crawl to get there.

She slumps from the bed to the floor with a clatter, Dougie hearing the sudden commotion from downstairs as he rushes to the bedroom. 

“My girl, what on Earth?”

She looks up at him from where she’s laid on the floor, taking a quick breather before resuming crawling on all fours to reach her padded chair. “I wanted to brush my hair,” she quietly squeaks, her eyes filling with tears of frustration. James reaches over to the table and grabs the hairbrush, setting it on the side table before helping Olive back into the blankets. 

“Here,” he says softly, grabbing the brush from where he set it. “Let me.” Slowly, softly and methodically, he works every knot out of his wife’s hair, careful to not hurt her. She feels herself relaxing in between his legs, her back on his chest as he combs through the last length of hair. “There, all done, beautiful.” “Hmmm,” she hums, snuggling into him. “Thank you.”

[freedomfireflies]

I’m looking forward to Friday now, can’t wait to see Mr. And Mrs. Hey Soul Sister😩

You stare at the document in front of you. The words, the ink, the instructions all blur together as the tears find their way to your eyes.

Sign Here.

Easy enough. A simple signature and you’re rid of him forever. The nightmare can finally be over.

You swipe your knuckles along your cheek, ridding yourself of the embarrassing admittance of your disappointment. You’re not sure why you’re so upset. This is exactly what you wanted. It’s what he wants, too. Finally, you can go back to your mundane life and leave Harry Styles and his endless parade of press and photo-ops behind.

The pen hovers above the page, tight between your fingers, waiting to be used. You’re hesitating but you’re not sure why. 

Sign the fucking document. Sign it and go home. Sign it and leave him behind.

You look up at the clock. Five minutes until eight. He’ll be arriving at the carpet for his new movie about now. He’ll smile, he’ll wave, and he’ll answer questions. You can practically hear him now.

What are you wearing? Uh…Gucci? I believe? Yeah. Gucci. 

Can you describe the movie in three words? Uh…heartbreaking…exciting…cinematic.

Cinematic? Yeah, you know…it just…it feels like a movie, y’know?

Sure, sure. And where is the missus tonight? Oh, she’s at home tonight, yeah. Bit jet-lagged from our trip.

Then, they’ll ask about the flight. If you’re both happy to be in New York. He’ll lie and say you are, even though he’s the one in New York and you’re still at his home in L.A.

He’s already signed the papers. Signed them the day they were delivered. And then…he left. Without a word. Without a goodbye. Without a handshake.

You were okay with that. Because seeing him…having to face what you said, what you felt…it was too much for even you.

You stayed to pack up your things. You wanted to be gone by the time he returned. Which would be tomorrow, just before his sold-out show. 

Before things…well, ended, he’d offered to let you and your friend come along. She was thrilled. You were reluctant but you had to admit, some of his songs were growing on you. And not because you actually liked the songs, but because…well, you suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.

You shake the thought from your head. Eye the papers. Grit your teeth. Take a deep breath. Just sign them, dammit. He did. Far too easily. In fact, you should be a little offended he was so glad to be rid of you. Didn’t even feel the need to say goodbye. After everything.

He’s a pig, you decide. He’s a pig and an asshole and he’s starting to remind you a little of Homelander from The Boys. Which is a character you only know because he made you watch the entire show.

So…there. He’s Homelander and you’re Starlight or whoever the fuck else and you’re gonna sign these papers and be rid of him forever. You’re gonna be the hero of your own life.

And you do it. Scrawl your name across the page, holding your breath the whole way, and before you know it…it’s over. 

It’s over.

You lean back, eyes on the document as every weight on your shoulder suddenly lifts.

You are officially no longer Mrs. Hey Soul Sister.

Truth to be told, you don’t know how to feel about it but you won’t let yourself feel anything about it because there’s just not enough time to cry over some guy with glitter up his ass.

You’re done.

You spend the rest of the day packing your things and saying goodbye to the home you’ve grown so used to. The door he had you pressed against. The mirror he fucked you in front of. The floor he ruined you on.

You leave the papers on the kitchen counter. They’ll be the first thing he sees when he walks in.

You readjust the strap on your shoulder and take a deep breath, preparing yourself to leave this odd blip in your life behind.

Once the door shuts behind you…it feels like everything is gonna be okay.

You spend the next day at your friend's apartment. She doesn’t pry for information. She doesn’t try to cheer you up. She turns off his song when it comes on during shuffle.

Most importantly, she offers to go pick up your favorite food for dinner and you could cry with gratitude.

Once she’s gone, you slump over to the sofa, pulling the blankets further around your body as you let your eyes fall toward the fireplace, watching the flames flicker along the brick, listening to the crackle. 

You take a deep breath, one rogue tear falling free before you have the chance to wipe it away, and you ask yourself how long it’ll be before he’s out of your system. For good.

“What the fuck…is this?”

You look up, terrified and startled as you see Harry suddenly standing about ten feet away, waving something in the air. 

You gasp, fingers clutching the soft throw blanket a bit tighter to your chest. “I…Harry, what the hell are you—”

“You just left?” he bellows, taking a step, vicious stare finding yours. “No note, no nothing? Just divorce papers?”

You blink. “Well…yeah, that was our deal—”

“No, fuck that,” he laughs, rather bitterly as he shakes his head and looks around the small apartment. “No, you…I thought we were gonna talk it out.”

“Talk what out? You left,” you remind him. “And you signed them, too.”

He stares at you for a moment, teeth gritting together as he tosses the papers in his hand toward you. 

You catch them, a bit confused but rather curious as he nods his chin at you.

You look down.

You see your signature. Your name.

And right above it? Right where his should be?

Mr. Hey Soul Sister.

“I…don’t understand,” you whisper, looking back up. “You know that’s not actually your name, right?”

He scoffs, hand running through the soft curls on his head. “Yes, I know that. I just…I thought if you saw that…maybe…maybe you wouldn’t sign them.”

Your head tilts. “Harry, why…what the hell is going on? I thought this is what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well…so did I,” he grumbles. “But when I came home and you were…you were just gone, I didn’t know what to do.”

Your heart sinks. Don’t do this to me. Please. Please don’t do this to me. “Harry…”

“Oh, don’t Harry me. No, we…look, I left because I knew you wanted your space and I didn’t wanna push you but I thought…you know, I thought after a couple days you’d finally be ready to talk.”

You sigh as you glance over his face. “That was sweet but…there’s nothing to talk about.”

“And why the fuck not?” He takes another step, no longer annoyed but livid. “Huh? You told me you loved me and then you left.”

You scoot toward the edge of the sofa. “Yeah, I left because you don’t love me.”

“Says who?”

You blink. He doesn’t.

“Says…says you, dipshit,” you remind him. “You made it very clear this was just a business deal to protect your image, and that’s fine, but now we’re done.”

He straightens up. Regards you carefully. “Maybe I don’t wanna be done.”

You straighten up as well. “And maybe I can’t do any more maybes.”

This settles in the air between you both for a moment, the only sound that of the crackling fire a few feet away.

He nods once. Takes another step. “I don’t want to be done.”

Your jaw tenses. Undeterred and unimpressed with his motivation. “You’ll find someone else to keep on your arm, don’t worry.”

“I don’t want someone else.”

“Well, you don’t want me.”

“I always fucking want you.”

You lean back, eyes wide and heart racing. You wait, just for a moment, to see if he’ll retract it. Shake his head, change his mind. 

He doesn’t.

“What?”

He takes another step. “I said…I always fucking want you. Why the fuck do you think I made up all that shit about the divorce ruining my image?”

You feel your breath hitch. “What…what do you—”

“Oh, come on. You don’t think I really give two shits about a couple of articles, do you?” he snorts, now a hint of a smile on his lips. “They’ve been calling me a womanizer and a playboy for years. You think this is where I’d get insecure and squirrely?”

“Then…then why?” Your hands wave in the air, desperate to grasp onto understanding. “Why put us through all this if you…why?”

He shrugs now, eyes falling to the floor. Almost ashamed. “Because I didn’t want to let you go. I knew it the moment I met you in the bar and you started screeching like a dying whale trying to sing that song.”

Your eyes narrow but you feel yourself smirk.

“And I knew what I was doing asking you to marry me. And I knew that you saying yes was the best moment of my life. And I knew that I didn’t know anything else…except you.” 

He looks up.

“And I figured we had the rest of our lives to work out all the details,” he murmurs. “I just didn’t figure you’d actually leave.”

The blanket falls from your hand, collecting on your lap.

“Har, I…I…” You stand, fingers shaking slightly as you step up to him, soft gaze falling across his face before your palms find his chest and you shove. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

He stumbles but he’s fighting a grin. “Because I wasn’t sure if you really meant it. I thought maybe it was a…Stockholm Syndrome thing or something. That you’d realize you just felt bad for me and I…look, I didn’t want your pity.”

“That…is so…” You sigh before pushing him back once more. “Stupid. That is so fucking stupid. All this time? I mean, all this fucking time we could have been—”

His hand slips around the back of your neck and before you know it, he’s yanking you forward and kissing you quick.

You go silent. Surprised and confused and so fucking happy you’re not sure what to do with yourself. 

He doesn’t deepen the kiss. Doesn’t attempt to go any further without your permission. Just wants you to know…

Wants you to know what?

You shove at his chest for a third time. Softer. Just enough to part your lips and regain his attention. “Har…what are you doing? What…what is all this for?”

He takes a deep breath, forehead pressed to yours. “Just had to get a running start.”

“What? What fo—"

“I love you.”

You suck in a sharp breath. Hear those three little words ringing in your ears, over and over and over. 

“What?”

His palm finds your cheek. Caresses it softly as he meets your eye. “I love you. I want to stay married to you. Forever. To you and your tone-deaf pitch and your dad jokes.”

You laugh, despite yourself.

“I want to spend the rest of my life, in sickness and in health…with you. And I promise, I will love you through all of it,” he whispers and your heart just about soars. “And I promise to spend every day…teaching you why Dancing Queen is so much better than Gimme, Gimme, Gimme.”

You laugh again, fingers slipping into his hair as you stretch up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. To really kiss him. To taste him, to have him…your husband. 

Forever.

However, after a moment, he steps away from you, and you feel gutted until you realize why.

He reaches toward the sofa, plucking the document into the air before throwing it into the roaring fire, smiling proudly as he faces you once more.

“Now, you’re officially and forevermore…Mrs. Hey Soul Sister,” he declares.

And as you kiss him again, happier than you’ve ever been, you can’t help but think one thing…

Maybe Harry Styles isn’t so bad after all.

THE END🥹♥️

Thank you so much to the original requester for trusting me with this amazing idea and for letting me explore it a bit further! I hope it was everything you wanted and that I could do it justice!

And thank you to everyone that kept up with it and felt excited along with me to see where these two idiots wound up! I love you all so much! 💞

~ Previous Part

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Good Omens Chibi Headcanons (Aziraphale And Crowley) [Part 3: Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley]

👼 Original headcanons 😈

👼 Ao3 version 😈

Part 1 (original) is here.

Ao3 Part 1 is here.

Updated Tumblr part 1 is here.

Part 2 (original) is here.

Ao3 Part 2 is here.

Updated Tumblr part 2 is here.

(*Takes place during Season 1*)

• They speak mainly gibberish, but they can sometimes say and use English words! Both their gibberish and English sound very cute!

• Tiny ineffable friends / husbands!

• Is it dumb luck, yin and yang, or the Almighty simply working in mysterious ways? Whatever it was, when Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley work together, there’s nothing they can’t do! Size isn’t an issue!

• They have their own handshake! It’s really cute and it ends with them forming a heart with the other's hand.

• Chibi Aziraphale thinks that Chibi Crowley is so cool! He also finds him to be really fun! The demon has taught him so many fun and exciting human games, such as tag, hide and seek, and one game that Chibi Crowley likes to play called playing tricks on the mortals. With that game, the angel didn’t mind playing along as long as the pranks they pulled were harmless and no humans got hurt by them. (Oh, and when playing tag or hide and seek, Chibi Aziraphale has to be really careful cause sometimes Chibi Crowley gets really excited when playing and will end up using his powers, causing havoc. The demon is oblivious to the destruction.) Chibi Aziraphale also really appreciates Chibi Crowley’s kindness! Sure, the demon might try to come off as if he’s not, but Chibi Crowley was always doing nice things for his angel friend.

• Chibi Crowley really likes Chibi Aziraphale’s good natured personality since having it made it easier for the demon to tease and tempt his friend. While he enjoyed teasing and tempting the angel, the demon would never take it too far, often doing it in a playful way. Chibi Crowley is also really glad that Chibi Aziraphale has a sweet tooth because now he’s got someone to share his gummy snakes with! He knows that the angel was book smart due to him spending most of his time in the bookshop with Aziraphale, but he also knew that the celestial being was innocently unaware of certain earthly things. The demon remembers once having to explain to Chibi Aziraphale what a toaster was.

• Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley put on a reenactment play about Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s friendship across the ages! They even wear costumes of the outfits that their big counterparts wore through those centuries.

This was their first play, so they had to make it something exciting and special, something that the audience would never forget. The performance was being held in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookshop.

A toy theatre stage was set up on the table and Aziraphale, Crowley, and Chibi Aziraphale’s Harry the Stuffed Rabbit plush were the audience. The room's lighting dims and the spotlights shine on the curtain.

The curtain is then opened and the show starts!

While saying their lines, Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley used a mix of both gibberish and English.

Aziraphale acts like a supportive parent at their child’s first ever school play in while in the audience, cheering, applauding, and shrieking in utter excitement every time his chibi says or does something in a scene.

This causes Chibi Aziraphale to smile and wave at his big friend each time on stage. “He’s so cute and talented, isn’t he?” Aziraphale would whisper to Crowley, referring to Chibi Aziraphale.

Crowley did notice little errors in the play, but couldn’t dislike it.

He still really appreciated the effort and dedication the two chibis put into it.

The performances weren’t too bad, and the two tiny entities did look like they were having alot of fun despite their very small audience.

His favorite parts had to be seeing his chibi be over the top while playing him.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the smaller demon’s exaggerated acting.

The play itself consisted of Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley making an effort to be precise, but ultimately producing their own cute and comedic version of the events.

Some might say that was impossible for a play to have only two people in it, but the chibis managed to make it work and it’s adorable.

• Imagine them doing a reenactment of the entire show.

• Chibi Aziraphale and Chibi Crowley had been to alot of fun places in London before, but their all time favorite place had to be the fun fair. (The toy shop was their second favorite place, the zoo was third, and the sweet shop was fourth.)

An overexcited Chibi Crowley appears in the bookshop one day to show Chibi Aziraphale a poster that he found that showed an advertisement for a fair in London. He suggested that the two of them go.

The demon has never been to an actual fair before, but he has seen tons of commercials for them on TV at the flat and they looked like a lot of fun.

The angel has never been to a fair before either, but the pictures on the poster did make the place seem fun.

To him, the fair looked like one big playground!

He agrees to go, and when the two arrive there, Chibi Aziraphale is immediately fascinated by everything!

Seeing that look on his friend’s face makes Chibi Crowley smile as he takes the heavenly being’s hand and leads him to the attractions.

[t1oui]

so i can’t decide between ron x viktor and ron x padma for the muggle hs au so i may just go with the tried and tested method of fixing things with polyamory but first of all here are arguments for both relationships

ron x viktor:

enemies to lovers - the weasleys are viktor’s host family (he’s an exchange student) and ron doesn’t get along with him at ALL

at the same time ron really looks up to viktor bc viktor plays hockey, which is ron’s favorite sport and the sport he wants to play

they play chess together <3 ron is president of the very unpopular chess club and viktor joins

ron is tall and muscular but viktor is even TALLER and MORE muscular and it makes ron feel safe

possible sexuality crisis for ron who’s always just thought of himself as straight (maybe he’s repressed his identity for some reason)

ron being very uncool™️ x viktor who is very popular

this also gives an easy way for ron to befriend harry and hermione in book 2 bc viktor is friends with cedric and cho (who harry and hermione end up with)

ron x padma:

best friends to lovers - they’re in chess club together and their only other friend is hannah abbott. they are super duper uncool and unpopular

padma being insecure and not thinking anybody can love her romantically x ron who treats her like a goddess (as he should)

maybe they could help get neville and hannah together (hannah is friends w padma and ron, pavarti is friends with neville)

maybe they could become friends w harry and hermione by helping them get couples together (harry and hermione just HAVE to meddle)

ron playing hockey and padma cheering him on and going crazy even though she has no idea what’s going on

playful competition w each other

AND NOW FOR WHAT THIS POST IS ABOUT…

ron x padma x viktor

the three of them having chess tournaments w each other and sometimes hannah

padma cheers ron and viktor on in hockey (she still doesn’t get what’s going on)

viktor taking turns giving ron & padma piggy-back rides at lunch

cuddling w each other 24/7

i just had a vision. all three of them are terrified on roller coasters. not one of them can keep from screaming. they hold onto each other for dear life

nose + forehead kisses for ron and padma

high fives where their fingers get a little tangled every time

they definitely push each other around in shopping carts

they go swimming together. this is very important. they get into splash fights and it’s ron & padma v viktor (padma is on ron’s shoulders)

they go on double dates with neville and hannah

they’re the only teenagers on the sledding hill when it snows. they tie all their sleds together and took out a bunch of five-year-olds once

the three of them doing contortionist moves to fit in one bed

going to pride together !!

(padma is asexual, ron is a pansexual demiboy, viktor is bi)

padma & viktor helping ron figure out their gender !! (the reason i didn’t use he/they throughout this whole post is that i just now thought of genderqueer ron lol)

padma & ron becoming friends w harry and hermione through viktor

ron and ced bond over being pan and not cis, viktor and harry bond over being bi, padma and pansy bond over being ace

they have a secret handshake

the three of them take movie night VERY SERIOUSLY. there are lots of snacks & blankets & pillows and, of course, a lot of cuddling

i have so many more ideas about these three but for now i’m leaving it there… i am almost definitely adding them into the fic tho lol i love them now. but…

[cinemastyles-blog]

We Should[n’t] Be Alone Together

Summary: A Wattpad request by Pretty_witchy - “Could you possibly do one where harry is the best friend of y/n boyfriend and some how they end up alone together and they hookup. Could harry be super dominant please I'd really appreciate it you are definitely my favourite oneshot writer!!”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, slight angst, cheating in relationship, y/n cheats with Harry, unprotected sex, oral (f), F I L T H

This is kinda long, sorry not sorry :)

Master

HARRY’S HOUSE HARRY / BRIT AWARDS HARRY

“Shit.” Harry says as he sets the phone down with a sigh.

“What, harry?” You ask looking over at him, “Everything okay?” He looks over at you and his smile grows bigger, “I’m performing at the Brit awards.”

“What?” Your eyes go big and you stand up, “Oh my god, Harry. That’s amazing!” You walk over to him and lean down to hug him.

His hand lays on your lower back and it feels like he pulls you closer. You hold onto him, not wanting to let go.

“What’s going on in here?” Your boyfriend, Luke, walks into the room.

You stand up quickly and turn towards him, “Tell him.” You snap at Harry as you stand there bouncing up and down with excitement, “Tell him! Tell him!”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m performing at the Brit’s.”

Luke’s mouth drops, “No shit! Harry that’s great, mate.” He walks over and they do a little fist bump handshake thing, “Proud of you, man. That’s awesome.”

“So are you taking Gem like last year?” You sit back down on the couch and look at him. He nods, “Yeah, of course. I was hoping you guys could be there too.”

You nod, “um, yes. We don’t even have to think about that one.” You look over at your boyfriend, “We can go right?”

He nods, “Yeah, I don’t see why not. I’ll have to see if I can move my schedule around, I know I’m to work, but if I can’t, at least one of us should be there.”

“Great, I’ll let them know I have possibly three coming with me.” Harry taps on his phone and you stare at him, “The Brit’s.” You shake your head, “I knew you were going to make it.”

He smiles and shakes his head as he types on his phone, “you guys always believed in me.”

You smile, your eyes lingering on Harry but trying not to keep it obvious that you’re looking at him.

You’ve been feeling a weird connection to Harry lately. You definitely noticed that he’s been treating you better than Luke most days.

You know it’s bad to say, but sometimes you wish you were with Harry, rather than Harry’s best friend.

——

“Hey.” You greet Harry as he walks through the door, “About time you get here.”

He chuckles and nods, “Yeah, I know. I wanted to stop and grab this for you guys.” Harry sets a bottle of wine down on the counter, “Just a thank you for being there with me when the time comes.”

“Then we’ll save it for after.” You smile and put the bottle in the cupboard with the other bottles.

“Where’s Luke?” Harry asks as he sits down on the chair.

You swallow, “He’s um, in his office.” You look up and force a smile, “You should go bother him, he’ll be happy to see you.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, “What happened?”

You shake your head, “Nothing, nothing. Now go. Go.” You shoo him out of the kitchen to finish dinner.

You know Harry wasn’t going to give up on making sure you’re okay, but now wasn’t the time for it. A little while before Harry was set to show up, you and Luke got into an argument, a bad one.

It seems like that’s all you’ve been doing lately, but you didn’t want to ruin Harry’s congratulations dinner, so you both put a pin in it until later on.

You can’t stop thinking about Harry and what he wore tonight. His button up shirt that’s not completely buttoned. Showing off his sparrows and top of his butterfly.

You bite your lip, closing your eyes as you squeeze your thighs shut, imagining what it would be like to have sex with someone like him.

Someone who is generous and probably cares whether or not you’ve gotten off once or let alone at all.

The door opens and you jump, stirring the pot of pasta to pretend like you didn’t just space out.

“Dinner almost ready?” Luke asks as he walks out behind Harry. You nod, “Yeah, it’ll be ready soon.”

Harry’s eyes trail down your body. He obviously notices the cleavage the neck line your flowy dress allows. His eyes flicker up to yours and you look away quickly, turning off the stove.

“Come on, Styles, we can have a drink while she finishes up.” Luke grabs the bottle of liquor and two glasses before he walks out to the patio.

You let out a sigh and drain the noodles, getting ready to mix them into the sauce.

You set the table and place everything on it, calling out to them when it’s ready.

They walk in, laughing at each others jokes and you smile, “Dig it.”

Harry nods, “Thank you, y/n. You guys really didn’t have to do this.”

You sit down and look over at him, “You’ll be busy these next few days getting ready and what not. So I’m sure you’ll be tired and won’t have time to see us, so we might as well celebrate now.”

“I can’t get off work.” Luke interjects, “I tried but they said no, so.”

The way Luke says that sends anger through you. You clench your jaw and Harry looks at him, “No, man. That’s okay. I understand. Really.”

Luke nods and continues to eat. You lay your hand on Harry’s, “Gem and I will be there for sure.” You smile and he grabs your hand, squeezing it, “Thank you.”

——

“So what, we just wait here for Harry to come in?” You lean over, “This place is insane.”

Gemma nods, “Yeah, once he walks the carpet, and everything he’ll come in here.”

You nod and take a drink of your drink, “They make these strong, don’t they?” You laugh as you set your glass back down. Gemma laughs, “Oh yeah, Harry always gets way too drunk, but it’s a laugh for sure.”

You laugh and nod, “Oh yes. I agree with you on that.”

Harry walks up to the table and sits down, “Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Harry.” You smile and look at him, “You excited?” He smiles and shrugs, “Yeah, for the most part.” He leans out slightly and looks at your dress, “You look beautiful!”

“I need to thank Lambert. Without him I wouldn’t have had anything.” You laugh and look at his outfit, “I like how he dressed you.”

He smiles, “Wait until you see my stage outfit.” He winks and smirks.

You can already tell he’s had a few to loosen himself up a little bit, but you didn’t mind.

Not. One. Bit.

“Can’t wait.” You smirk and finish your drink, “When do you go on?” He looks at you, staring for a few seconds before smiling, “I go on after the first few categories.”

You nod and start drinking your other drink.

Throughout the beginning of the show, you noticed that you and Harry have gotten closer over time, but as said before, you didn’t mind.

You felt comfortable with Harry. Felt like no one was judging you. You felt safe.

“Harry Styles!”

Harry stands up and hugs Gemma before hugging you.

“Congratulations!” You tell him before you pull away. He smiles at you and goes up to collect his award and giving his speech.

You stand there, smiling at him proudly. He glances over at your table and you can tell he’s looking directly at you. He smiles and shakes his head, “And my two very dear friends who have pushes me to do my best. Thank you.”

You smile and turn away to sit down as he walks back down to the table.

He sits down and shakes his head. Gemma tells him how proud of him she is and you lay a hand on his shoulder, “So proud of you.”

He smiles and lays his hand on yours, “Thank you.” He clears his throat, “I wish Luke would of been here.” You both look at each other, knowing he said that remind yourselves that you have Luke to worry about.

You take your hand away, “Yeah, I know how you feel.”

——

“Your on after this Harry.” A guy with a headset taps his shoulder. Harry nods and stands up. He looks down at you, “Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on. I’m taking you back stage with me.” He smiles and pushes his chair in, “We’ll be back.”

Gemma nods, “Break a leg!”

He laughs and leads you back behind the stage to his dressing room. You can’t help but to look around in awe, wondering how Harry does it.

You stand there, looking around at the nicely decorated room, “These flowers are beautiful.” You walk over and gently touch the petals, “Oh they’re from the show!”

“Yeah, they’re super nice here.”

You turn around to see Harry in black pants and an open red sequin jacket and your heart falls into your stomach, “Fuck.”

The alcohol is kicking in now that you stood up, “I mean.. you look very nice.” You shake your head and sigh, “Sorry.”

You laugh slightly and he smirks, “I liked the way you said it the first time.” He winks and the door opens, “Ready?” One of the crew asks looking at him.

Harry nods, “Yeah.” He goes to walk towards the door but stops. He looks down and looks up with a sigh. He turns towards you and walks over, cupping your face as he plants his lips on yours for a few seconds before leaning back.

You open your eyes and look up at him, “wh-“

“We’ll talk about it after. I just had to do that.” He walks towards the door, “Come with me.”

You follow him and stand with him in the hall way that leads to the stage, “Harry.”

“Don’t say anything. Please.”

You smile and shake your head, “I was going to say good luck.” You lean up and peck his cheek, “I’ll meet you back here after your performance.”

He nods and watches you walk away as he gets his ear piece situated.

You walk back out to the table, “He’s so nervous, but I think I talked him down.” You lie and grab your drink, chugging it at a slow rate.

“Whoa, y/n. Did you take the nervousness from him or what?” Gemma laughs. You look at her, “I think so.” You laugh and lean back in your seat, pushing your thighs together, thinking about how the kiss Harry left on your lips right before you came out to the table made you feel.

Starved.

The lights go down, Harry and his band makes their way on stage and he stands there waiting to be announce.

“Harry Styles!”

“Come on Harry, we wanna say goodnight to you.”

The music starts playing and you stand up, clapping your hands to the beat of the song and dancing in your spot with Gemma. You smile because you can tell he’s way more comfortable on this stage than at the Grammy’s.

“He’s killing it!” You tell Gemma, and she nods, “He’s amazing.”

You watch him in awe. How the red sequin jacket sparkles and flips open every now and then, revealing his toned figure.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and your lipstick stains them. You can taste it so when Harry is done performing and thanking everything, you look over at Gemma, “I’m running to the bathroom.”

She nods and talks to the people next to her.

You quickly make your way backstage and slip into Harry’s dressing room. You stand in the mirror and use a tissue to wipe your teeth free of the dark red coloring.

The door opens and you turn around, freezing as you see Harry walk in.

You shouldn’t be alone together.

You set your clutch down and walk towards him. He closes the door and locks it, meeting you halfway and taking you into his arms. His hands cup your cheek and hold the side of you neck as your lips move together is hungered sync.

“You’re too good for him, y/n.” Harry whispers as he leans back, “Too fucking good for him.” He backs you up onto the big couch, taking off his jacket and throwing it off in the process.

“Harry.” You whisper.

“Don’t speak. Just shut up and listen to me.” His lips move back onto yours as his hands drag your gown up your legs.

You press your lips together, spreading your legs as soon as your dress is up. He stops and brushes hair from your face, “You’re so beautiful.”

He leans down to make out with you again. You wrap an arm around his neck and press your other hand against his chest.

You know you should make him stop. You know it’s wrong on so many levels.

But Harry makes you feel seen. Heard. Cared for.

You couldn’t stop even if you really, really wanted to.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks as he kisses down your neck.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Are you sure?” He leans back and looks at you. You lay a hand on his cheek, “I don’t want to stop.”

He smirks and kisses down your chest, moving down on to his knees. He goes back to kissing your thighs, “Tell me why.”

“W- what?” You look down at him.

He kisses up your thigh a few times, “Tell me why you don’t want to stop.”

He slides his hands up your legs and up under your bunched up dress, pulling down your panties, “I want to hear why.”

You swallow and lift your hips, “Because..” you pause and close your eyes, “You’re better for me.” Your voice is quiet.

“More.” Harry pushes your thighs further apart and gazes from your pussy to your face, “I know there’s more to it.”

He leans in and licks a stripe up to your clit, taking it between his lips and sucking. You gasp and jolt your hips forward, “Fuck, Harry.”

He pulls your hips towards him, pushing his face in more.

You moan out as your eyes roll back, “Fuck, you’re so good to me, H.”

He slips his tongue in you as his fingers dig into your skin. He moans against you and you lay a hand on his head, arching your back up as you feel yourself getting closer.

He leans back, taking that feeling away from you. You whimper and look down at him. He holds his hands out and you take them. He pulls your hands, indicating for you to sit up.

You heave yourself up and he guides you to straddle him. His back is against the couch and his hands hold your dress up, “Ride me.”

“Ha-“

“Don’t.” He presses his thumb to your lips as his fingers hold your jaw, “Just don’t.”

You take his thumb into your mouth, sucking on it. He gasps and his lips part as his eyes focus on yours, “Fuck, y/n.”

His voice is soft and gentle when he speaks your name, but it suddenly turns deep and hot, “Fuck, bury my cock in that pussy.”

He leans up, kissing you as he gets his pants undone. You hold his face, still kissing him as you lift your body up so he can get his pants down.

He tilts his head back, “You need someone who knows you.” He holds your hips as you sink down on his cock, “You need a cock in you that can make you cum.”

You moan and dig your nails into his bare shoulders, “H-Harry.” You whimper out, “Fuck.”

“I know you think of me.” His eyes move up to yours, “Heard you the one day. You thought you were home alone. I stopped over but I had to leave before I did something like this.”

Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip, panting as Harry just holds his cock in you.

“I should have gave you what you were begging for.” He slides a hand up your back, tangling a hand in your hair and tilting it towards him. He rests his forehead on yours, “would you have liked that?”

You try to nod, but the grip Harry has on your hair makes it hard, “Ye-yes.” You whimper out, “H-Harry. Please.. please let me move.”

“Would you have liked it if I came in and fucked you on my best friends bed?”

His words send a shiver through your body.

“Yes.” You whisper out, “Yes. I would have loved that.”

He kisses your forehead, “I can take care of you.”

You feel like crying, you feel like screaming. You are being slammed repeatedly with emotion after emotion, but nothing about this feels wrong.

“I love you.” You open your eyes and look into his, “Fuck. I fucking love you.”

Harry let’s go of your hair and pulls you close to him. You start to move your hips and you let out a loud, wall shaking moan.

Harry rests his head against your chest, moaning into it as he squeezes your hips tightly.

You grind your hips down onto his, “Fuck, Harry.”

He looks up at you and watches as you look down at him, “I know you aren’t happy.” He kisses your chest and pulls you down by the back of your neck, “So let me make you happy.”

His lips crash against yours, “I love you so much.”

And you completely melt into him.

You feel like you belong to him.

You feel like his.

You clench and unclench around him until you finally let go, moaning as you rest your head onto his, “Fuck. Fuck, fuck.”

His arms wrap tight around your waist and his hips thrust upward to keep him close, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You feel Harry’s cock twitch, and he lets out a loud moan, “Shit, shit.”

You close your eyes, feeling him let go inside of you. You’re panting as he lays his head back onto the couch and looks up at you, “You okay?”

You slowly nod, “I, um..” you sigh, “I guess I have some shit to figure out.”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, “like what?”

“We’ll for starters, how I’m going to go about everything with Luke and moving my stuff out..“ you bite your lip and smile slowly, “But for now, what we’re going to tell Gemma.”

He smiles and shakes his head, “Well figure it all out, together.”

——

Thank you for the request, sorry it was so long, eh, not really. I hope you enjoyed it.

If you have any requests you can -> send them here

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Thirty-One

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 6694

Warning: If you didn't already kind of hate Stacey before this chapter, this might take you over the edge. She's kind of a bitch, at least at the beginning. Just...hang on, please :).

I stared back and forth incredulously between my so-called friend and Harry’s sister.

“Hi,” I finally said, though it came out more like a whisper.

“I’m Gemma,” she rose from her chair, offering her hand. “You must be Stacey.”

“Yes,” I nodded, accepting her handshake. Then I glared at Lorelei. “Though lately I wish I wasn’t.”

Lorelei bowed her head sheepishly as she adjusted her napkin in her lap.

“Please, join us,” gestured Gemma to the empty seat next to her. “Lorelei here has told me a lot about you.”

“I’m sure she has,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, but don’t misunderstand,” she added, leaning closer to me as I sat down. “My brother’s already told me the important details.”

I looked at her, not sure what else to say. She seemed kind and sincere, and I wasn’t about to assume the worst when I didn’t even know her. The waiter came by then and took my drink order, handing me a menu.

“We haven’t ordered food yet,” said Lorelei. “We reckoned we’d wait for you.”

“Thoughtful,” I grumbled, looking over the list.

I could feel both sets of eyes on me before Lorelei sighed, setting down her menu.

“I suppose we should get it all out in the open. First of all, you should know I didn’t contact Gemma.”

I snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Stacey…”

“Or wait...let me guess…” I pointed between them. “Harry couldn’t get me to talk to him, so he called his sister and asked her to contact my sneaky, manipulative friend that he’s secretly been talking to behind my back for the last few weeks, so they can get together and gang up on me.”

“It wasn’t quite like that,” Gemma interjected.

“We’re not ganging up on you,” Lorelei argued.

I leaned my head back and blinked at the ceiling, willing my eyes to keep the tears from coming.

“Harry told me his sister was coming to New York,” I heard Lorelei explain. “I told him that would be wonderful if everything could work out between you, and he could introduce the two of you. Apparently, this afternoon, when you still wouldn’t talk to him, he had Gemma call me.”

I glared at her and rolled my eyes. “Is that not what I literally just said?”

“But you make it sound so awful and conniving. We aren’t trying to hurt you, doll. We’re just trying to help.”

“You know how you can help me, Lor? By leaving me the fuck alone!”

Lorelei looked at me with wide eyes. I turned to Gemma who had the same expression.

“I’m sorry, Gemma. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re a lovely person, and you probably have the best of intentions, for both me and your brother. I wish we could have met under better circumstances.” I scooted my chair back, prepared to rise. “But I’m so goddamn tired of everybody talking about me like I’m not here, and conspiring behind my back, thinking they know what’s best for me!”

Standing up, I threw my napkin on the table. “It’s my life, Lorelei! Butt out!”

I stormed out of the restaurant before either of them could stop me, though I was certain they weren’t going to anyway. I was the one who had made the scene. I took the elevator up to my room, falling face first onto the bed. My body shook with sobs as I silently cursed everybody, including myself.

A knock sounded on the door a little while later. I was ready to tell whomever it was to go away, but seeing as Lorelei had a key, I figured it was someone in the hotel staff. When I opened it, however, I was greeted with Gemma’s gentle face. My shoulders fell and I wiped a tear from my eye.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

I nodded hesitantly, stepping back to allow her inside. She took a look around the room as I shut the door.

“Good job, Harry,” she said aloud, then turned to me. “It’s a nice room.”

I bit my lip, giving a shrug. “I suppose you want to talk?”

“I reckon we should, don’t you?”

Nodding again, I gestured toward the sofa. I followed her as she sat down, facing me.

“Stacey, I don’t know you,” Gemma began. “I only know what my brother and my mum told me.”

“Anne told you about me?”

“Well, of course. She did spend a few days with you. She raved about you, and your book.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little. “She read my book?”

“Mhmm,” Gemma nodded. “Said you gave her a copy and she read it on the plane. She said you and your friend are brilliant writers, and then she leant it to me.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I wasn’t there to promote my book, but I had to admit I liked the idea that she’d read it.

“I loved it as well,” she continued. “But really...that doesn’t tell me a lot about you.”

I understood, though I wasn’t sure where this was going. In some ways I felt like I was on a job interview. Then her face softened.

“Harry first told me about you months ago,” she smiled, scooting closer to me. “When his tour was announced, I noticed he’d be in New York the same time as me.”

“Yes,” I said. “He mentioned that.”

“Did he also mention that I wanted to meet you?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” she grinned. “Not because he didn’t think we should meet. I asked him if you would be coming to New York, and he said no, that you would only be going to the Houston show with your children. He added...without my asking, mind you...that he would love it if you could come to every show, but that you’d just flown home from seeing him in L.A. and that you deserved to be with your daughters who needed you most.”

“He did?” I asked, my eyes already welling up.

“Yes,” Gemma nodded. “He told me he adores them, that they’re the coolest kids he’s ever met. He’s very fond of them, Stacey, and he thinks you’re a wonderful mum.”

I wiped my eyes, knowing my freshly applied eyeliner was gone by now. Oh, Harry. What a sweet thing to say.

“Now, I’m not here to try to conspire or anything behind your back,” Gemma continued. “I’m not really even here to persuade you to do anything other than go to the concert with me.”

“What?” I looked at her with raised brows.

“Your feelings are yours alone,” she explained. “I absolutely want my brother to be happy, and I know he’s madly in love with you. But I’m not going to make you talk to him if you’re not ready. I’m just asking that you consider going to the show. You’ll be sat beside me, and we’ll drink and have fun and...that’s it.”

“Something tells me that’s not it, Gemma.”

She shrugged. “I dunno what could happen next. And it’s truly none of my business.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“You’d only be fulfilling my request,” Gemma added.

“What’s that?”

“That I get to know you,” she beamed.

Lorelei came back to the room after Gemma and I’d had our talk. I hated to send her away, but we both agreed I needed to have a chat with my friend. I agreed to have brunch with Gemma the next day, and I told her I might let her persuade me to go to the concert. She left with a hug from me and a big smile on her face.

Lorelei and I ended up ordering room service since we hadn’t eaten dinner yet and didn’t feel like returning to the restaurant downstairs - or at least I felt too ashamed to show my face again. I apologized for walking out like I had, and told her I didn’t mean what I’d said.

“Yes you did,” Lor mumbled through a bite of potatoes. “You were angry. A lot of truth comes out when you’re angry.”

“Okay, but I didn’t mean everything. Like leaving me alone.”

Lorelei chewed the food in her mouth and swallowed.

“I did some thinking while I was downstairs. And you were right. I can see how you would think what I did was manipulative. But you have to believe me, doll, I never meant it like that. To me...manipulating is when you try to get someone to do what you want them to do. That was not my intention at all.”

“I know,” I said into my own plate. “It’s just...why did you have to talk to him behind my back? The whole time I was hurting worse than I’ve ever hurt in my life...even worse than my divorce...and I was trying my damndest to get over him...you were talking to him.”

“Because he called me! You have to believe me, Stace, when he first called I was shocked. I’d thought, I can’t do this, I have to be Stacey’s shoulder to cry on. But then he told me he had to see you, and he’d thought up a plan and wanted my help. I actually thought it was a great idea...I didn’t know it was gonna blow up like this.”

As I stared at her, the tears came and fell down my cheeks. At that point, I didn’t bother stopping them anymore. I was only surprised I had any left.

“I just wanted it to be over,” I cried. “I didn’t want to hurt anymore.”

“But why are you letting yourself hurt?” Lorelei asked. “You could be so happy!”

“Don’t you get it, Lor? I don’t know how to be happy. Every time something in my life went right, it ended badly. I can’t be in a relationship just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And eventually Harry would resent me for it. Then I’d have to tell him I told you so. I’m saving us both the time and heartache.”

“Stacey, all I want to do...as your friend...is be there for you. And for me, that includes trying to help you see what you might not see in yourself. You’re such a wonderful, amazing woman. You’re not just somebody who got lucky once and met Harry Styles. You fell in love, and he with you. You have something...I have only dreamt about. I guess...yeah, I’m a bit jealous. But I know how much you deserve this.”

I looked at her, speechless. She reached for my hand and squeezed it.

“Give him a chance, hon. Let him show you how over the moon in love with you he is. Lay back and enjoy it, free from all your insecurities and disbeliefs...in both yourself and in love. As much as I hate to admit it, true love exists. I’ve seen it...in you.”

My shoulders shaking, I sucked in my lips and buried my face in my hands.

“I love him, Lorelei. I love him so very much. I miss seeing his face and hearing his voice. I just thought…”

“I know, doll. I know exactly what you thought. But that’s a demon in your head talking. It’s not true. It’s lying to you. You have to know that.”

“No,” I shook my head.

“Stace...look at me,” Lorelei took my arms and pried my hands from my face. She was knelt before me, urging me to look her in the eye.

“Repeat after me...I deserve happiness.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away.

“Stacey. Right here. I’ll be your fucking therapist if I have to.”

I chuckled then at the absurdity.

“Say it, doll. I deserve happiness.”

Looking her in the eye, I hesitantly repeated the phrase. “I deserve happiness.”

“Again.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “I deserve happiness.”

“Again.”

“I deserve happiness.”

Dropping her hands to her lap, my best friend smiled at me.

“Yes, you do, Stacey Barnett. And he’s waiting for you.”

The bell on the door jingled when I opened it, stepping into a quaint and cozy cafe. The hostess led me to the rear of the restaurant where Gemma sat waiting for me.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said, taking a seat.

“No worries, you’re not,” she grinned. “I just arrived myself.”

I returned her smile, placing my napkin in my lap. The waiter came by and took our drink order, both Gemma and I opting for mimosas as well as coffee.

“How are you feeling?” she asked me when the waiter left.

I considered her question, thinking it was particularly kind of her to ask it. Not just “how are you?” but “how are you feeling?”. It had more sensitivity to it.

“I feel...a bit overwhelmed I guess,” I replied.

“Hmm. Understood.”

After shedding all the tears, I thought I had left the night before, Lor and I had decided to call it a day. Pushing the food cart into the hall, we got ready for bed, chatting about random things like the old friends we were. Before turning out the light, she’d insisted I go meet Gemma for brunch alone, and although I hesitated at first, I knew it was for the best.

“I had a...much needed, yet emotional talk with Lorelei last night,” I commented.

Gemma gave a smirk, reminding me for a split second of her brother. “She’s a bit of a nosey parker, that one.”

I giggled. “What does that mean?”

“Um...a meddler. A busybody.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. That’s a nice way to put it. She means well, though.”

Gemma reached out her hand. “Oh, I know she does. I like her, and I can tell she cares a lot about you. I just think...perhaps she went about this wrong.”

“Well, apparently you can thank your brother for that. She says it was all his idea.”

“I suppose so,” stated Gemma as the waiter brought our coffee carafe and poured it into our cups.

“What...that’s it?” I glared at her.

“What’s it?”

“You’re just agreeing? You’re not going to tell me what a fool I’m being for not taking his calls or replying to his texts?”

“I told you, it’s none of my business. Harry’s my brother and I love him, but I know he can also be pretty dim sometimes. I only agreed to contact Lorelei because he told me she was your friend and that you were here.”

I pursed my lips as I looked at her, wondering if there was something else she wasn’t telling me. My thoughts were interrupted, however, when the waiter returned with our mimosas and took our food order.

We had a lovely brunch together, talking a bit about my book and the one Lorelei and I were waiting to get published. Gemma showed me photos on her phone of a project she was working on, and photos that she’d taken while in town so far, as well as some in England. She asked if I’d met Jeffrey and Glenne, assuming I had, and I felt a little pang in my chest at the mention of their names.

“I miss them,” I admitted somberly.

“Well you can see them again tonight,” Gemma pointed out. “Assuming you’ve decided to come, of course.”

I took a moment to get my bearings, knowing the truth was inside me, deep down. Then after a long sigh, I gave her a nod.

“Yes.”

“I’m so glad,” she smiled. “We’ll have a lot of fun.”

I nodded again and followed her outside into the brilliant sunshine, the sky nearly cloudless.

“I just want to say something to you, Stacey,” offered Gemma, turning to me.

“What’s that?”

“One of the reasons Harry is in love with you is because you’re a strong woman. I can see that. But I also see that you have a wall up.”

I swallowed hard and averted my eyes.

“It’s thin and invisible,” she added with a gesture of her hand, “but it’s there. I suspect you have it up to protect yourself...from something bad that might never happen.”

Squinting from the sunlight, I looked at her face again, kind and wise.

“See you tonight, love,” she said with a soft grin, and I watched her walk away.

Lorelei and I spent the afternoon together. First, she took me to her old neighborhood, showing me where she used to live before moving to Houston. I unabashedly admitted that I was jealous and couldn’t understand why she’d leave New York to move to crappy Houston. She just laughed and said that if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have met me. I gave her a hug, and we walked to a diner for a late lunch.

We then took a cab to Macy’s where we tried on several outfits until we each decided on something to wear to the concert. Because I hadn’t brought my new jeans I’d worn to the Stevie show, as they reminded me of Harry, I bought a new similar pair. I then picked out a pretty green top to wear with them that Lor insisted made me look like a million bucks. I didn’t feel like spending money on a new pair of boots, so I just planned to wear my flats I’d brought with me.

While we’d been shopping, I got a text from Harry. When Lorelei was busy in the dressing room, I read it.

Gemma told me you’re coming tonight.

Yes, I am, I replied.

You don’t know how happy that makes me, Stacey. Thank you.

I wasn’t quite sure what to say after that. I didn’t feel that having a conversation through texting while I was shopping was the best thing to do right then.

You’re welcome, was all I sent.

The venue was buzzing with excitement when Lorelei and I arrived. Lines zig-zagged around the front and down the sidewalk. I felt the anxiety creep up on me until Lor poked me in the arm and gestured to a sign that read VIP TICKETS. I followed her to a much shorter line where we gave a bald man our tickets and were quickly greeted by a rush of cold air as we entered the venue.

“Look!” Lorelei exclaimed, pointing at a merchandise stand.

More lines had already formed in front of it, fans wanting to get their hands on official t-shirts, tote bags and other paraphernalia with Harry’s face or name - or both - on them. My expression softened as I looked at the lovely items for sale, pride rising in my throat.

“You want one?” I heard my friend ask in my ear.

I turned my head to look at her, then shook it.

“Okay,” she chuckled. “Do you want to find our seats or grab a drink?”

“Um...seats,” I muttered.

It wasn’t until I was following Lorelei down the steps and saw the stage in front of me, that I realized just how much of a nervous wreck I was. Lor showed our tickets to another man who stood in the aisle, and he gestured to his left. Passing him with a tight smile, I sat down in the seat next to my friend, noticing the sign in front that read RESERVED.

“Holy shit!” Lorelei exclaimed. “This is what I’m talking about!”

I looked at her as she gave an exhilarated laugh and tousled her hair.

“I feel special,” she giggled.

I couldn’t help the smile on my face at my friend’s excitement. I, however was trying my best to keep the bile down in my stomach.

“There you are,” I heard a voice sing behind me. I turned and saw Gemma walking down the steps towards me. “You made it!”

I stood and shrugged. “I’m here.”

“I‘m so glad,” she grinned before embracing me and giving me a kiss on each cheek. Then she did the same with Lorelei.

“How are you feeling?” she asked me for the second time that day.

“I’ll be honest, I think I might throw up.”

Her eyes widened, and I was a bit taken aback by her not laughing at me instead.

“Did you eat? They have food here.”

I smiled graciously. “Thanks, I’ll probably be okay. Just nerves.”

“Understandable,” she said kindly.

Something about being in Gemma’s presence calmed me. I’d noticed it at brunch, and in just two seconds since she’d arrived, she’d already made me feel a bit better.

Gemma took the aisle seat on the other side of me, gazing out at the crowd. I saw the corners of her mouth curl up slightly, and when I followed her eyes, I caught sight of a girl waving in our direction. Within seconds, she had her phone up, no doubt taking photos. Then another girl in the row behind her yelled something that, reading her lips, seemed to be “Oh my God, there’s Gemma!” The girl beside her, however, had her eyes fixed on me. I lowered my head, pretending to pick on the hem of my top when I heard Lorelei speak next to me.

“Are they taking pictures of you?”

Gemma, bless her heart, leaned forward to explain.

“So a quick heads up, alright? Harry’s fans recognize everybody to do with him. Best thing to do is give a small smile, a wave if you want to, but quickly look away and act like you’re in an important conversation or you’re headed for the loo. The acknowledgment makes them happy, but then they know their boundaries.”

“That’s brilliant, actually,” Lorelei commented.

“What if I don’t want to acknowledge them at all?” I inquired.

“That’s fine too,” said Gemma. “You don’t owe them anything. And if they see you’re busy, they might start to feel guilty for snapping photos.”

“Or think I’m a bitch,” I added with a frown.

Gemma laughed. “That happens too. Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”

I looked down at my lap again and then up at the stage. I had a few questions I wanted to ask Gemma, but I was hesitant. Then I remembered how kind she was being to me so far, and I let one slip from my lips.

“I uh...haven’t looked online in a while. All of my social media is private. Do you...have you seen them say anything about me?”

“No,” she replied, her lips pursed. “Because I don’t look either.”

I smiled. I was about to ask another question when I saw another figure coming toward us out of the corner of my eye. When I looked up, she stopped on the stairs.

“Oh my God, you’re here!” she nearly squealed.

With a huge grin no one could have stopped, I rose from my seat to greet Glenne. She gave me a tight, warm hug as I inhaled her perfume. She smelled divine, and I wondered for a second if she’d just come from backstage.

“I’ve missed you, girl,” she murmured in my ear.

“Same here,” I sighed.

She pulled back and looked at me, and I could tell by her face that there were things she wanted to say. I smiled at her, knowing she would probably tell me later. Then I gestured to Lorelei and introduced her to Glenne. After she gave Gemma a hug, she offered us all drinks.

As I sipped on my gin and tonic, I felt it soothe my nerves just a bit. By the time the opening band took the stage, I was even feeling in a bit of a good mood. The drinks kept coming, as well as snacks, and by the time the lights came on again, I might have even had a glow about me. I’d forgotten how my adrenaline spiked at concerts. And being in the VIP section certainly added to the frenzy. I chatted casually with the other ladies as a variety of tunes played throughout the venue. When I heard the familiar intro, however, I froze in my chair.

“Oh my God,” I muttered.

“What? What is it?” asked Lorelei.

She was that kind of lady… Times were hard, woah...

I shut my eyes. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?” Glenne echoed, perplexed.

But she’ll leave you crying in the night…

“Is this Stevie?” I heard Gemma ask to my right.

I let out a slow breath. “Buckingham Nicks.”

“Ooh, that’s a rare one,” she mused.

“Stacey’s a really big Stevie Nicks fan,” Lorelei commented.

I opened my eyes then and let them pierce through hers.

“Oh!” she sounded, her mouth a perfect circle. “Oh my God, Stacey. I swear, I had nothing to do with this!”

I sucked in my lips as I could feel the emotions coming. A tiny tear leaked from my left eye, and I lifted my hand to wipe it.

“Sorry to sound indelicate,” Gemma leaned over to whisper in my ear. “But was this a special sort of song for you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You could say that.”

She’s back in town… And she’s looking around…

“I’m so sorry, doll,” offered Lorelei.

“It’s…it’s okay,” I shook my head, wiping another tear and sniffling. Then I gave a tight smile. “I have a feeling this is going to be an emotional night.”

Each lady gave me a reassuring smile, and Glenne patted my arm and told me to let her know if I needed anything.

Before I could even fully reply, the lights went out and the entire venue erupted in screams as I rose from my seat. Lorelei grabbed my arm, and I suddenly felt like my stomach had risen to my chest and my knees went weak. The rush of adrenaline I’d experienced earlier returned, but in a different way. As the sound effects and glittering lights ended, I heard a loud drum intro and the curtain dropped. Harry’s band started playing one of his more up-tempo songs and the crowd went wild. Then he himself stepped out onto the center of the stage, his arms raised like the rock god he was. My heart thumped hard in my chest, and I squeezed Lorelei’s hand.

“Wow, doll, look at him!” she whispered in my ear.

I was looking. And he looked amazing.

He pranced across the stage like he owned it. He acknowledged his audience from all angles. And he sang his heart out. I was completely mesmerized and in awe. Watching him on James’s show or viewing live clips on my tiny computer did little to capture what he really was. There was no comparison to seeing him live. He was magnificent, and I’d never felt more proud.

After the third song, I returned to my seat, needing a breather. Harry paused his show to converse with someone in the audience, making a joke as his dimples displayed on the large screen. My stomach flipped like a nervous schoolgirl, and I was suddenly taken back in my mind to the day we’d met. His charm was undeniable, his adorable accent punctuating his quip.

Oh, Harry, I sighed to myself, my hand over my heart.

I felt a poke on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Glenne gesturing for me to follow her. Meeting her at the steps, she gave me a gentle smile.

“Let’s go to the ladies' room,” she said.

Just like at the Stevie concert, I hated to miss any part of Harry’s show. But I knew a restroom break was needed, and I needed to catch up with my friend. I followed her up the steps and around the corner to the bathroom. As soon as she knew we were alone, she took the stall next to mine.

“So tell me what’s been going on,” she said.

“Um...I’m assuming you mean with Harry and me?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t wanna be nosy, but when he gave me your number and I texted you, I was kind of hoping you’d call me.”

“I’m sorry, Glenne,” I admitted. “I just...haven’t been ready to talk about it.”

“I understand,” she said after flushing.

I met her at the sinks. “How is he?”

She raised a brow at me in the mirror. “Truth? He’s a mess.”

I sighed. “Me too.”

I dried my hands with the air dryer and turned to her. “You know he got Lorelei to bring me here by tricking me.”

Glenne gave me a blank look. Then with a tiny smirk, she rolled her eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you really mad about that?” she tilted her head.

“Well…” I considered, “I was. I don’t like being tricked. It seemed...very juvenile.”

“Maybe,” Glenne shrugged. “But aren’t you glad you’re here now?”

I let out a breath through my nose. “Yeah.”

“Do you wanna see him?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do.”

Glenne grinned at me, adding no more commentary. I envied her. She was really good at saying so much while saying so little.

My shoulders dropped as I let out another breath. Then with a tight jaw, I felt the emotions taking over again.

“Glenne,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I think I might’ve made a huge mistake.”

She stepped closer to me, brushing a curl from my shoulder and rubbing my back as she whispered softly.

“Maybe all is not lost.”

When Glenne and I returned to our section, I beamed with delight when I saw that Jeffrey had joined our group. He gave me a big, strong hug and told me he was very happy to see me.

“H will be too,” he added. “He’s really glad you’re here.”

Taking my seat again, I watched Harry as he revved up the crowd over and over. Feeling a little better, though my nerves were still apparent, I let the drinks keep coming, and during one of Harry’s sexier rock songs, I stood between Lorelei and Gemma as we swayed our hips and sang along.

When my favorite piano ballad started, however, I gripped the railing in front of me. I was reminded of my moment with Harry at Stevie’s concert when she sang “Landslide”, and he’d held me, allowing me to cry. I felt Lorelei’s hand on my back before I even noticed the first tear fall. While I appreciated her comfort, I knew I needed to release my emotions.

I sang the entire song with him, tears streaming down my face. The audience lifted their arms and hands, some with their phones, and swayed back and forth in tempo. When the song was over, and Harry walked from one end of the stage to the other and back, blowing kisses to the crowd, both Lor and Gemma wrapped their arms around me.

“Sorry,” I sniffled. “Told you it was gonna be emotional.”

“No worries, love,” cooed Gemma. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

I looked up at her, and though it was dark, I could sense a bit of redness in her eyes as well.

I watched the band gather together and take a bow, and as Harry sent more air kisses, I could have sworn we made eye contact. I bit my lip as I watched him leave the stage, my entire heart beating in my throat.

The next few minutes seemed to move quickly as I was figuratively (but almost literally) dragged downstairs and to the backstage area by Glenne, Lorelei and Gemma following. The hallway was bright, making me blink several times to adjust my eyes after sitting in the dark arena. I saw a handful of fans and other people, peppered throughout the hall with the same laminates as mine.

“Wait here,” said Glenne.

She only got a few steps down the hall when Jeff stopped her. I watched them talking, though I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Suddenly, Glenne turned and looked at me, and Jeffrey gestured for me to come to him. I looked between my friends, not quite understanding. When I walked up to Jeff, he gave me a gentle smile.

“He was going to come out and greet all of you,” he explained. “But he says he’d rather see you first. Alone.”

I raised my brows. “Oh.”

“Are you okay with that?” asked Jeff.

I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

I looked back and noticed Glenne explaining the situation to the others before I followed Jeff down the hall to a closed door. Knocking on it twice, he announced himself before opening it. Then gesturing for me to enter, he patted my arm. I stepped inside cautiously, and just when I saw him, I heard the click of the door behind me.

“Stacey,” he said.

His voice was deep, the voice I loved so very much, though this time when he said my name, there was a bit of hesitation to it, almost like a question at the end.

“Hi, Harry,” I nodded, swallowing hard. “That was a wonderful performance, you’re so ama-”

In one long stride, he crossed the room to me. He pulled me into a tight embrace and I felt his breath in my hair as my cheek pressed against the side of his neck. The world seemed to freeze in that moment, and all I could hear was the sound of his heartbeat, his pulse vibrating in my ear. I then heard him sigh as his hands ran up and down my back.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

I blinked rapidly, determined to hold back any tears that might threaten to fall. Though I’d let myself be emotional during the concert, I still needed to keep my cool with him, as I was still so unsure.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

A few moments passed, his arms still enveloping me as we swayed gently. I couldn’t dare let go of him, for fear that he’d pat me on the shoulder and send me on my way like I was some old college friend.

“I still love you,” he confessed.

I could detect the break in his voice, and I lost it. The tears began to fall then, but I couldn’t bear to let him see. So I silently cried on his shoulder.

“Stacey…” he murmured, rubbing my back, one hand finding its way up to my hair.

“I love you, too,” I whispered in his ear. Then I stood up straight, releasing myself slowly from his grip as I looked up into his watery eyes. Those beautiful, green eyes that I would have easily drowned in if I’d let myself.

“I’ll probably always love you,” I added.

Just as I felt my bottom lip tremble, I shook my head and looked away.

“Baby…” I heard him say as I wiped my eyes.

“You’ve done so great, Harry,” I said, my face softening. “I’m really proud of you.”

He looked down at my hands and took them in his.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he admitted. “It wasn’t fair to get Lorelei to lie for me just to get you here. But I really wanted to see you. And I didn’t know what else to do.”

I stared at our hands, his thumbs rubbing the backs of mine.

“Please come back to me, Stacey,” he begged. “Please tell me...it’s not over.”

Prying one of my hands from his, I lifted it to touch his cheek. His eyes closed softly as he covered my hand with his, holding it there. I saw a single tear fall from his eye and felt his jaw tighten underneath my palm.

“Please,” he croaked, his body seeming to shudder.

Though I was crying, I felt the dam break inside me. I knew that if I had taken a single step back, or to the left or right, I would have collapsed. I held onto his hand, squeezing it once before he opened his eyes.

“I think...we have a lot to talk about, Harry,” I stated.

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “Yes, of course. I um...I have all day free tomorrow. We can meet somewhere...and talk. Please.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

Harry’s chest seemed to deflate then, a loud breath escaping from his lips. With a gentle nod, he turned his head toward my hand that rested against his cheek and kissed it. His breath blew across my palm, and I felt a sudden warmth all over.

“Okay,” he echoed, pressing our joined hands against his chest. “God, I’ve missed you.”

He leaned his forehead against mine then, and for a second I thought he might kiss me.

“Baby…”

“I...Harry, I...we should probably...” I pointed towards the door.

“Oh...yeah.”

“I mean, your sister’s out there, and I’m sure Lorelei wants to say hi. Plus, I think I saw some fans.” I smiled at him. “You shouldn’t keep them waiting because of me.”

Harry let out a deep breath and took me in his arms again. “Oh, Stacey…”

If it were up to me, I could have stayed like that the rest of the night. Instead, I brushed his curls from his face and kissed his cheek.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” I promised.

Blinking slowly, he stood up straight and nodded. “‘kay.”

I opened the door for him, allowing him to step out into the hallway first. I watched him saunter down the hall to where Gemma and Lorelei stood, giving them both his dazzling smile and a warm hug. I stood back for a moment, wondering what would happen next - tomorrow, the day after that, and after that. I sighed, shoved my hands in my pockets and walked slowly down the hall to join them.

“Everything okay?” asked Glenne who caught up to me.

I gave her a tight smile and nod. “We’ll see.”

“You know, he made Jeffrey completely clear his schedule the next couple days. I assume that has something to do with you?”

I bit my lip. “I never stopped loving him, Glenne. I just want…”

“I know,” she nodded. “But he wants you.”

I continued watching Harry as he moved on to a cluster of fans, taking photos with them and making them happy. He was really good at that, making people happy. Even me.

I was wide awake. It was nearly three in the morning; Lorelei and I had gone to bed hours ago. But I couldn’t sleep. I got up to pee and get a drink of water, and when I returned, I saw my phone light up on the nightstand.

Are you awake?

Yes

Were you really awake, or did I just wake you?

I stifled a giggle. I was awake. Can’t sleep.

Me neither. I need to see you.

Now?

Please. Can you come to my hotel?

When I didn’t reply right away, I saw the three dots come up again.

I can’t wait until tomorrow. Please?

Okay.

After getting his hotel information, I told him I’d be there soon. I put the same jeans and green top back on that I wore to the concert since they were on top of my suitcase. Then I brushed my teeth again and applied some light makeup and touched up my hair. As I was slipping into my shoes, I saw a shadow move across the room, and Lorelei sat up on her elbow.

“You’re going to him?” she asked.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Lor, I was gonna leave you a note.”

“No need. Just call or text if something goes wrong. But I know it won’t.”

I grinned, pushing my hair behind my ear. “Thanks, Lor.”

“Love you, doll.”

Closing the door gently behind me, I made my way to the elevator. When I turned the corner into the lobby, a man at the front desk waved at me.

“Ms. Barnett?” he asked.

“Yes?” I stopped.

“A car’s here for you.”

I looked at the glass doors and back at him.

“For me? Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Confused, I pushed open the door and stepped out into the night. Sure enough, a black car was parked out front. Pulling my phone out of my purse, I saw the new text I’d missed from Harry.

No need to take a taxi. I’m sending a car.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK | PATREON

[ala-baguette]

Returning Home

Summary: One year has passed since the War ended, and Harry returns to Godric's Hollow. Relationships: Harry Potter/ Ginny Weasley Rating: G 1400 words  |  Read it here or on AO3

Harry stepped out the front door of the cottage and paused in the sunlight on the garden path. The breeze rustled through the new spring growth of the trees lining the lane at the village edge. He heard the faint tinkle of a windchime outside one of the houses a few doors down. It was so quiet here. He pushed his fists deeper into his pockets.

In the entry behind him, Hermione was still grilling the estate agent on minutiae that he didn’t care about but probably should. Appliances and piping and cesspits and roofing and insulation and flood maps. Harry tuned it out. Instead, he merely stood and breathed the crisp clean air and listened to the wind. He could smell lavender from somewhere. He wondered where it grew.

An arm snaked its way around his own, and he blinked away the reverie about nothing and everything to look down. Ginny looked up at him and smiled. There was a subtle question there, but it was not insistent. So Harry merely extracted his hand from his pocket and wrapped it instead around her. Ginny seemed content with this. She rested her head against his shoulder and the pair of them merely stood there quietly. Listening to the wind.

“It’s a wonderful community here. Both Magical and Muggle alike,” the estate agent was saying to Ron and Hermione behind them. She’d clearly given up on trying to talk to Harry directly. “You should take a bit of time to explore, if you have it. See the village centre. Maybe have a bite in the Lion and Flame.”

“Where is that?” Ron asked.

“Wizarding pub. In the main square. The entrance is in the alleyway just to the right of the Muggle pub entrance. You’ll see a brick wall with a lion and phoenix. Just tap your wand and you’ll be able to step through.”

Harry did at least manage to muster himself to offer a smile, a thank you, and a handshake as the estate agent bid them farewell. What had been her name? He probably should have been paying better attention. No matter. Hermione would know.

The four of them walked along the village streets. Ron and Hermione were talking about asking price and cost of living and more things Harry didn’t care about. He remained quiet. They passed a small community play yard and Harry smiled a little, imaging bringing Teddy here when he came to visit. But he didn’t raise his head to look down the street where he knew the ruins of a long-destroyed house still stood. And he kept his eyes on his feet as they passed the war memorial, even when he caught the transformation out of his peripheral vision. When they passed the church, his eyes did dart a glance to the graveyard behind. But he didn’t slow. Not today. He would be back. He felt Ginny give his hand a small squeeze.

The pub was just where what’s-her-name had said it would be. They melted through the door one at a time and let themselves down the torch-lined steps. At the bottom of the stairs, Harry paused to look around. He took in the old-fashioned wood bar with its many beer taps and liquor bottles. The dim but warm lighting. The dark wood ceiling beams and panelling. The mismatched tables and chairs scattered across the well-worn red carpet. Harry loved it immediately.

“Alroigh’ me’ansum?” the barkeeper called to them, glancing up from where he was filling a round of pints; it seemed an automatic greeting he offered to any who entered. But then he did a doubletake and stared at Harry for a moment, his face inscrutable. The gaggle of middle-aged men who were leaning against the bar and chatting merrily, followed his gaze and stilled as well. Then the old witches in the corner who were gossiping over their sherry and knitting. Then the pair of boys who Harry vaguely recognised as Hufflepuffs who’d been a few years ahead of them at Hogwarts. Harry flattened his fringe. Ron and Hermione exchanged a smirk, and Harry reminded himself of the futility of this habit.

Harry braced himself for the onslaught, but the barkeeper merely went back to filling his pints. His patrons, albeit reluctantly, seemed to take their cues from him. They turned back to their conversations, though eyes continued to dart in Harry’s direction periodically.

After a moment’s hesitation, Harry sidled up to the bar, his friends falling into step beside him. “Hello,” he greeted as the barkeeper filled the last of the middle-aged men’s pints and passed them across the bar. The barkeeper jerked his chin up. Harry couldn’t say if it was an acknowledgement of his greeting or a request for his order or both. “Four butterbeers, please?”

The barkeeper merely nodded, unsmiling, and ducked under the counter. He reappeared a second later with four bottles. He tapped his wand to pop the lids and slid them across the counter as one. Harry reached into his pocket for his gold, but the barkeeper said, “On the ‘ouse.”

Harry shook his head. “Thanks. But I insist.” He slid a handful of coins across the counter.

The barkeeper shrugged. “Sui’ yourself.” He counted out the appropriate coins, and slid the remainder back to Harry. “Welcome ‘ome, Mister Po’er,” he said, still without a smile.

And there were murmurs around the pub as others intoned the same.

“Welcome home, Harry.”

“Glad to have yeh back.”

“Your ‘ealth, Mr. Po’er.”

Harry nodded at them awkwardly in thanks and picked up the butterbeers, passing one each to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all of whom were quietly watching him. They seemed to be waiting for him to pick the table. His eyes roved the pub.

“Tha’ table in the corner.”

Harry blinked and turned back to the barkeeper. “Sorry?”

The barkeeper nodded toward the far corner of the pub. “Tha’s the one your dad and his mates used to si’ in. Every Friday noigh’. Least ’til your mum and dad wen’ into hidin’.” Harry followed his gaze to a round table with four empty chairs. Harry merely stared at it for a moment, before he remembered himself.

Blinking, he looked back to the barkeeper. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. The old man just nodded again, then turned his attention to wiping down the bar.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny followed him to the table. They seemed to sense that he was not in much of a mood for conversation and were content to let him sit quietly as they chatted. He sat in the chair in the corner and stared around the pub as babble continued around him. Harry watched as two older wizards debated politics; he watched as the Hufflepuff boys moseyed over to the dartboard on one wall; as one of the witches worried over a dropped stitch in her knitting and fretfully counted along her needles.

“—What do you reckon, Harry?”

“Huh?” Harry blinked and looked around to find his friends all staring at him expectantly.

“The house,” Hermione clarified patiently. “We were discussing the house. Just wondering how you liked it.”

“Oh. Right.” Harry’s eyes took another promenade around the room before they landed on Ginny. She was merely looking at him, patiently awaiting his answer. Harry swallowed, suddenly strangely nervous. How could he put into words that her opinion on this mattered more than anyone’s? Perhaps more than his own. He looked down at the butterbeer he held in both hands atop the table. “I thought… maybe it seemed like it could be home.”

He chanced a glance back up to Ginny. But she was beaming at him. He smiled back.

“Well, cheers to that, then,” said Ron, holding out his butterbeer.

“To home,” Hermione agreed.

“To home,” said Ginny softly, her eyes not leaving Harry’s.

His heart felt light as they clinked their bottles. He looked around the room again as he sipped his butterbeer, feeling affection for this room full of people he’d never met. His eyes fell on the barkeeper who was making his way toward their table with what appeared to be a large bowl of chips and a dipping sauce Harry couldn’t recall ordering. He suddenly realised he was famished.

For more about the Lion and Flame Inn, see the Remus Lupin installment of my Left Behind Series, 'Empty Chairs at Empty Tables'.

[music-viber]

Percy Jackson X daughter of hades.

Summary: Having known of each other for years, going to the same camp and having some of the same friends Percy and Odessa ignore each others presence. Guess it wouldn’t work forever almost.

Warning: underage drinking and language

Part 1

“MY THROATS ON FIRE”

An older camper yells as if she didn’t just ask me to light her whisky like the Fourth of July fireworks.

“no way.” I reply as if she didn't ask me to set her drink on fire. The girl takes another shot as she merges into a group of people. My best friend, looking cheerful, approaches and drapes his arm over my shoulder.

"Hey Freddy," he greets. He's been calling me Freddy, as in Freddy Kruger, since we were kids. I glance at Luke and respond, "He luke." We stand in Comfortable silence before we begin judging our classmates. "What on earth is she wearing?" I ask. "She looks like a warning sign," I comment as the girl glances at me and scoffs. "That outfit should come with a warning," Luke adds. I can't recall what I drank or how much, but it was undoubtedly spiked.

It's no secret that I'm not the most popular person here. The girls here worship the guys like gods, leaving no space for any of us to carve out our own identities. We give them too much credit. I slur as I speak "I've made up my mind. I want to be popular," I announce. Luke nearly chokes on his drink. "You're kidding, right? Nessa, you're already popular," he says, looking confused.

I roll my eyes "If I was popular I would know by now." As I say this a group of kids walk in and greet me with a handshake or giving me a nickname.

"I bet those kids don't even know my name," I said, realizing I had bullied half of them. It was sad they even wanted to pretend they were close to me. Luke looked at me mysteriously. "Go ahead, I won't stop you," he said, laughing. "Yeah ok weirdo," I replied, walking away from Luke and towards the DJ booth.

I pushed the DJ aside, realizing I was drunk enough to broadcast my thoughts on a microphone. The DJ asked, “Hey, can you not?” I scoffed, “Can you stop spinning disks like a househusband washing dishes?” He looked as offended as if I didn't just giving him the free palm reading of a lifetime.

Taking the microphone, I addressed the crowd. The drinks were starting to hit me. I shouted, “WHO WANTS TO SEE ME LIGHT THIS PARTY UP?!” Everyone screamed “Yeah” as I began to shoot flames into a tree, the sky, and the drinks booth. Should've known alcohol was deadly Everyone ducked as the fire spread through the booth to the path. “Fuck I'm in trouble.”

Luke scooped me up and ran out of the forest with the others. As he carried me, I saw a pool of water shooting towards the flames I had created, before I passed out.

“Fuck my heads killing me.” Getting up and looking at the time 4am I sigh and get out of bed grabbing some of my clothes. I need a shower.

Taking a cold shower while hungover is the worst but it helps. After my shower I change into running clothes and put on my headphones. I think everyone should've forgeotton what happened by the time they wake up. Walking towards the forest.

I see Clarisse waking up from her window and wave. She gave me the middle finger as I entered the forest area. smells like recklessness and bad ideas, my kind of party. As I get deeper in the woods I look over the waterfall. Before jumping over it I see a boy at the bottom. “Hey I thought I was the only unique one getting up early” I whisper crossing my arms. Rolling my eyes seeing it was none other than Percy Jackson. Look I don’t have a problem with little buddy but cmon they give him so much credit for shit around here. He looked up at me after hearing a twig snap “Hm” he hums. “Hm” I hum mockingly Not wanting to waste any time around him before someone thought you guys were associated, like Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in the first movie. I ignore him and walk away. “So annoying” I think on my way deeper into the forest burning grass with my finger tips. Finally time for fun. And I place the headphones that were once around my neck onto my ears and play a song I run around skipping and setting things on fire with my ability. This time with only little flames as memories washed back into my head from last night. After about half an hour I get bored and almost everything around me was burning. “Okay well that’s enough I say as I was about to snap my fingers and reverse the damage-

The same girl from last night, who seemed rather intoxicated, gave me an unhappy look and walked away. I decided to ignore her and continue practicing my skill, unsuccessfully. I can't help but feel that her presence in the forest has brought some bad luck. Despite my best efforts to avoid her since childhood, her presence is hard to ignore. She has a knack for causing inconvenience even if it's just once, before she leaves you alone. We've been attending the same camp since childhood, so I speak from personal experience. Once, I suggested she clean her dirty shoes during a campfire. In response, she burned mine, leaving holes in my socks. When I retaliated by drawing on her shoes, she became upset. Shes so sensitive.

Percy puts on his camp shirt as he gets out of the water and follows the path Odessa took awhile ago.

Seeing as she was lighting things on fire he panicked and moved nearby water onto her.

Percy panicked and asked, “What were you doing!?” Odessa whipped her body to the sound of his voice soaked from the pile of water dumped onto her. “What the hell?!” she screamed at him. “why would you do that.” she asked him harshly.

Percy scoffed “why did I end your little oven reunion? Because of last night princess.” I watch as she crossed her arms over her chest seeing that the water causes her shirt to be see through. “Oh… sorry you can have my shirt” I offer her as she swats me away. “Listen water boy, I can fend for myself.” she says rudely.

As she started to retreat back to camp soaked I had the balls to stand up to her today. I knew I would probley regret it somewhere along the line but It was a chance I was taking.

“𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩”

Silence… she stopped walking. Stopping dead in her tracks she turned around to face him. “What was that?” she looked like she did and don't care about what I said at the same time. So I said it again

“That's not what I saw last night.” she walked closer to me. Now I was a stiff as a pencil I couldn't move and breathing near her felt wrong. She was now looking up at me as her face was moving towards my ear. She opened her mouth to say, “Do we have a problem?”

As chills ran down my spine I plucked up enough courage. “Do we?” I ask back to her. As gets back off her tippy toes as she scoffs at me storming away.

As I looked at the time I realised I had to be back to camp soon so nobody notices I was missing. Going back and catching up to Odessa as she ignores me. Walking side by side on silence. As we get to camp a whole bunch of campers and councliers are lined up listening to the camp director.

Odessa and I freeze in our tracks and listen in. “we have been alerted that there was a party last night. We are so disappointed you kids risked your safety for drinking and party tricks…” the camp counclier says “Well who would like to come forward and tell us who did what?” most campers look around as if looking for someone. “It was Odessa and Percy!” a councilor yells. Everyone agrees with him as Odessa and Percy are shocked in place as the counselor spots them and points at them to walk over.

I walk over almost immediately to clear my name as Odessa takes her time glaring daggers at the kid who snitched on her. She looks at the camp counselor “it's not what it sounds like.” I say as my hands lie on my hips.

The counclier looks down on us as she speaks “so you two did not trash the secret party last night?”

I freeze as I look around slowly. “Yes? No? Maybe so.” Odessa face plants as she sighs loudly. The counselor looked disappointed. “Your punishment is to clean up the mess you've made tonight.”

Odessa looks at Percy unwelcomly as she storms off pushing people in her path. I state at the interaction “Yikes.” I whisper drwding having to spend the night with her.

“Should stayed quiet…” like says as he walks past patting my back.

[steampunkserpent27]

Home

for @hdcandyheartsfest 's prompt: Home rated: T CW: Mermaid Draco, Minor Injury, Hurt/Comfort A sequel to this Draco was lingering near the far corner of his tank, fiddling with something in his hands. He found this rather odd, as Draco was always enthusiastic to see him and wanted hugs as soon as possible, he never stayed away. Harry scooched closer to the edge of the platform, crossing his legs, as he waited. He supposed Draco would come over when he was ready, even if he was starting to become a bit worried that something might be wrong. Draco kept glancing back at him, before he would look away again, all while keeping his back turned to him. It was certainly strange behavior for him. After a long while of waiting, he grew too concerned to continue doing nothing. “Draco?” Draco seemed as if he was tensing, as he slowly turned to look at him, although he didn’t come any closer and was holding one of his arms behind his back. He wished Draco would come over, so he could see him properly. “Is everything okay?” Draco nodded, although the expression on his face was the opposite of okay. “Can you come here for a moment, please?” There was a long pause, while Draco stared at the water, his lips wobbling, before he finally sank beneath the surface and swam over to him. Resurfacing beside him, Draco stayed close to the wall of his tank, keeping most of his body submerged and out of sight, aside from his neck and head. Draco glanced down and then looked back up at him, only to look away again a moment later. “In… In trouble?” “No. You don’t get in trouble with me. Remember?” Grey eyes found his, lingering for a moment, before they turned away, brimming with uncertainty. “Yes.”

He tried to look closer at Draco, but the majority of his arms and front were hidden against the wall. His tail seemed alright, as he couldn’t see any missing scales, and he couldn’t see any wounds on his back either. “What’s wrong?” Draco shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “I won’t be mad. You can tell me.” He prompted, keeping his voice soft. Draco chewed on his lower lip, his pointed teeth leaving small divots in the skin. Harry was starting to think that Draco wasn’t going to say anything, when Draco lifted one of his arms out of the water, holding it out to him. There was a scrape on the side of his arm, some of the skin having been peeled away. “Oh.” He leaned closer, reaching out and taking Draco’s hand, while he looked at his wound. “This looks painful. I’m sorry. How did this happen?” Draco was watching him closely, his lips in a thin line. “Wasn’t…” He paused and started again. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking where I was going. And…” He fell silent. “It’s okay. You can tell me.” “I hit my arm on the coral.” Draco looked away again, his eyes watery. “I’m sorry. Can I fix this up?” Normally, he wouldn’t have to ask to use magic around him anymore, but he thought with how Draco had been acting, he had better ask this time. Draco nodded, still staring at the water below him. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the scrape. “Episkey.” The wound vanished, being replaced with fresh, pale skin. He released Draco’s arm and put his wand away. “There. How’s that feel?” Draco glanced at his arm briefly. “Okay.” “Can I ask you something?” “Okay.” “Why were you trying to hide that from me?” Draco’s frown grew, as he let his arm slide back into the water. “Thought… I thought you might be mad.” He had to fight to keep himself from frowning. “Do I ever get mad at you?” There was a slight pause, as Draco thought about it. “No.” “That’s right.” He offered his hand, although Draco just tapped it, as he still hadn’t figured out how handshakes worked.”And I’ll never be mad at you for being hurt, okay? I promise.” Draco’s lips twitched, squirming between a smile and a frown. “Take care of me.” “Yes, that’s right. I take care of you, and I don’t want you to be hurt.” He tapped the back of Draco’s hand gently, mimicking what Draco had done just a moment before. “And you don’t ever have to worry about anyone being mad at you anymore, because this is your home now.” “Home.” Draco repeated, his lips finally settling on a nervous smile.