#dontchu wanna know whats up?

[wanderingelvis]

Hey I don’t know if your doing requests rn but I had this idea. Maybe like an innocent reader x Elvis and she broke a glass and cut herself on accident and she keeps apologizing because her dad would get mad at her for that and he has to convince her it’s not her fault. Maybe ending in smut? Whatever you wanna do I just thought it was a cool idea

Thank you for the request! I really hope you like it! 🧚

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word Count: 2,649

Pairing: Late 60s!Elvis x Innocent F!Reader

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of ab*se (verbal and physical)

You were a little ball of sunshine in Elvis' life. A sensitive little ball of sunshine at that. You quite often reminded Elvis of a little puppy dog, just eager and desperate for his love and attention, always looking at him with those big, round eyes of yours, filled with admiration and adoration for the big old man. 

Your love for Elvis didn't come from nowhere though, he equally showered you with affection and love from the moment he first interacted with you. He became enamoured with your playful and soft giggles and your incessant babbling that he found utterly adorable.

Elvis picked up early on that you had some underlying issues. He would notice you flinch at a loud noise or a raised voice, the way you'd instantly stop talking if someone began to speak over you, the way you'd trip over your words when any sort of confrontation would occur. He knew that there must have been something in your past that had created those behaviours and he was right.

You opened up to him about your past and your upbringing early on in your relationship with Elvis after Elvis had asked you about your childhood. You'd told Elvis tentatively, all about the tense and aggressive environment that you grew up in, and even when you'd trip over you words or start to feel anxious when recalling the events, Elvis hushed you, telling you to take your time, everything was okay and that you were his special girl now.

Since then, you'd really gone from strength to strength, you were this little diamond on Elvis' arm, charming everyone just like Elvis did, and together, you really were the new 'it' couple. 

You were so eager to please everyone but most importantly Elvis, that you would wear yourself out, trying so hard to impress him that you'd often end up becoming drowsy at 8pm, nodding off in Elvis' strong hold as he would laugh and chat with the Mafia. 

Elvis didn't mind one bit, he thought there was no cuter sight than you drifting off whilst clinging to him as if he were your security blanket or nighttime teddy bear. Once Elvis was sure that you'd be fully asleep, he'd always excuse himself from whatever was going on to carry you to your shared room and put you into bed, knowing that the worst thing for you would be to fall asleep only to be woken up by someone getting drunk and starting to holler and wake you up and mess up your routine. 

You truly were Elvis' little baby, he treated you like a princess and you truly were head over heels in love with the big, old, rockstar.

The two of you being the social butterflies you were meant that you loved a crowded house, hosting parties for any event, Christmas, Halloween, 4th of July - heck, even if it was a Friday, that would be enough to warrant an extravagant party.

And that's exactly what had happened, a lavish party in December had taken place in Graceland where the Mafia, their wives, a few fans and fellow musicians had all attended in what could only have been described as an 'early Christmas' in Graceland, with endless drinks, cigars, and laughter. 

It was about 3am and everyone had left apart from a few members of the Mafia, Lamar, Sonny, Charlie and Joe, all in the Jungle room relaxing with you nestled into Elvis' side, completely wiped and a little tipsy from the expensive champagne that Elvis had let you drink.

"Why dontchu be a doll n'go n'get us some drinks eh, Y/N? Might wanna make a start on the mess while yer at it?" Charlie laughed, nodding at you. 

You blinked a couple of times and rubbed your eyes, the excitement of the party taking its toll on your little body before you nodded, pushing your body up from where it rested by Elvis. 

"That how you talk to a little girl huh, Charlie? No wonder you're goddamn single," Elvis retorted sharply, with an ever so bitter chuckle at the end of his pointed comment, clearly agitated at some other fella telling you what to do.

See, Elvis knew that you craved praise and even more so, you were absolutely desperate to avoid any sort of conflict or trouble, so you'd always do anything that anyone asked of you. Naturally, this could lead to people taking advantage of your sweet state but that's where Elvis was perfect for you. His authoritative and dominant presence meant that people would seldom cross him just to get you to do some task they were too lazy to do. 

Elvis reached over with his cold, ring clad fingers wrapping around your tender wrist, holding you in place. "Uh-uh." Elvis tsked, making you stop in your tracks. "Don't you move baby, Charlie's a big boy, he can get himself a drink if he needs one."

"Oh, no, Elvis it's okay! Really, I don't mind, it's okay!" You said earnestly.

"I know you don't mind darlin', but you're readin' your fun little magazine, no need for you to be bothered hm? Charlie can do it himself just fine." Elvis said, just about managing to shoot Charlie another stern look.

"S'okay! I was gon' get myself a drink anyways! A hot lemon and tea, I think I hurt my throat from how much I was talkin'!" You sleepily giggled, the angelic sound quelling Elvis' frustrations, you were just so heavenly. Elvis equally knew that you'd just be sitting and feeling anxious if he kept you by his side so he released his tender grip on you, tapping his cheek with his finger, indicating he wanted a kiss from you.

You complied docilely, bending down to press a kiss on Elvis cheek, a soft giggle leaving your lips afterwards as you skipped off to the kitchen, leaving Charlie to the wrath of Elvis.

You carefully prepared the tea and got Charlie's favourite drink sorted too - an Old Fashioned, biting down on your lip as you tried to get the measurements just right! 

It wasn't until you were carrying the tray of tea and cocktails that everything fell apart - quite literally. 

The damned carpet corner wasn't properly pinned down, making you trip over your own feet just like Bambi, sending the tray, along with its contents flying and tumbling down onto the pristine carpet, the glass and china shattering  everywhere. 

You gasped and immediately your heart dropped and sheer panic set in. Your clumsiness, whilst adored by Elvis, had not been your fathers favourite trait of yours, with violent punishments incurring whenever you'd make a little mistake and those punishments had had a lasting impact on you. Obviously, this caused your body to go into automatic panic and defence as you knelt down, trying to clear up the glass and china shards before anyone that heard the accident came running through.

As tears began to pool in your eyes, making your vision cloudy and your breathing became erratic with panic and fear of being punished, you didn't even register the shards of glass cutting through the skin on your knees and the palms of your hands. 

You began to create more mess than tidy it as droplets of blood now began to drip onto the carpet as you frantically tried to wipe away your tears, smudging the pretty black eye makeup Elvis had so lovingly put on you for the party. 

That's when you began to hear footsteps and you dared not look up when you heard Elvis' familiar deep Southern voice.

"Baby?" Elvis said lowly, concern lacing his voice that you mistook for disappointment.

"M'sorry, m'sorry, p-please don't be mad, p-please, I didn't m-mean it," You stuttered with a shaky, cracked voice, stopping every couple of words to sniffle as you cowered into yourself like a frightened little puppy, scared of anything that might approach it.

As Elvis' concern grew rapidly, his demeanour softened, knowing that you were now in an extra fragile and sensitive state and you needed to be treated delicately.

So that's how the big man ended up slowly walked over to you, rolling up the sleeves on his silk shirt and crouching down so that he could be on your level - even if he was still towering over you. 

"Ssh baby, s'okay, I'm not mad with you princess." Elvis hushed, reaching out to gently to push away the hair that had fallen in front of your pretty face, making sure to be as tender as he could be as to not startle you as he knew you were frightened of any sudden contact.

You flinched ever so slightly as Elvis touched you, sniffling as you tried to steady your panic, your wet lashes fluttering up to meet Elvis' concerned gaze. 

"Do ya think you can tell me what happened little one?" Elvis asked as his eyes scanned the scene, realising how badly you'd hurt yourself.

Your eyes widened as you began to recall what happened. "I-I-, um, I, tried to get the, get the drinks and I got um, um, tripped over, by the carpet, I didn't mean it, I didn't m-mean it, I p-promise!" You said shakily, panic beginning to set in again which Elvis picked up on immediately.

"Uh uh baby, you're gettin' yerself all worked up aren't ya?" Elvis soothed, and you nodded, your chest still erratically rising and falling as you hiccupped through tears. You nodded feverishly, your shaky hand wiping away snot and tears. 

"M'sorry! It was just an accident, I promise, I'll c-clean it all up, I p-promise." You whimpered.

"I know it was an accident baby, we all have accidents don't we hm?" Elvis cooed, trying to soothe you and calm you down. "Accidents happen, it's okay honey, I ain't mad, I ain't mad at all." Elvis tried to reassure as you trembled opposite him, your hands still in a bloodied mess along with your knees.

Elvis knew that your sudden panicky and frightened little state was the result of your father, beating you and verbally abusing you at any possible chance he had, particularly when an incident like this would happen. He knew that you'd revert back to the child-like state that you'd first experienced the abuse in, but he knew it was now his job and responsibility to look after you and take care of you and make you feel better and feel loved.

"I d-didn't mean it, p-promise." You mewled softly, growing calmer but still tender and frightened. 

Elvis nodded understandingly, holding eye contact with you, wanting to make it absolutely clear to you that you weren't in any trouble and nothing was bad was going to happen to you whilst you were in his care. 

"I know you didn't sweet girl. You were just doin' yer best weren't you honey? You did nothin' wrong, you were busy bein' a good girl and gettin' Charlie a drink for him." Elvis praised, knowing you needed it. "What happened to yer hands n'knees little one?" Elvis asked, pointing to your injuries.

You hadn't even acknowledged that you were hurt or bleeding, your mind far too occupied with fear. Your eyes widened cutely as you blinked a few times, realising how bad your hands really were as you held them up in front of you. Elvis watched you, his attempt to get your mind to stop panicking was working.

"I, um, I hurt them," You said quietly, your voice trailing off as you studied your hands. "They hurt." You whimpered slightly, the realisation of what had happened setting in, as well as the pain. 

"They look sore don't they honey?" Elvis observed and you nodded, successfully distracted from the internalised fear that had consumed you. "I think we need to get you cleaned up little one, make you feel all good n'better? What do you think princess?" Elvis asked calmly.

Again, you nodded, your habit of becoming ever-so-slightly more non-verbal kicking in when you were upset and scared and overstimulated. "Okay..." You replied, with the small word being all you could muster.

"Okay." Elvis repeated in confirmation with a reassuring nod. "Now, I'm gon' help you up little 'un, then I'm gon' get the fellas outta here, they've had enough partyin' for one night, then we're gon' get you cleaned up and into our nice big, warm, bed, how does that sound Y/N?" Elvis said to you gently. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat as your damp eyelashes fluttered and you scanned the mess around you on the floor. "B-But I need to clean up my mess." You stuttered.

"Oh little one, no, no this will all get cleaned by the staff who are comin' to sort out the mess from the party 'kay? Your only job is to let me clean you up and feel better, okay little girl?" Elvis said with a raised eyebrow as you sniffled and reached out for him, desperately craving physically affection from him. "Careful pretty girl, I don't wanna hurt yer pretty little hands now, do I? M'gon pick you up from your elbows, okay?" Elvis told you, standing back up before leaning down and slowly hauling you up from under your arms, making sure as to not cause you any more harm.

Once you were up, Elvis quickly dashed to the Jungle room to get rid of the remaining guys, explaining the situation to them before they all told Elvis that they hoped you were okay. They all thought of you as a little gem of a girl and they all had a soft spot for you. They were also protective of you, perhaps not as much as Elvis was, but they all knew you were a sweet girl and they all sincerely hoped you'd feel better as quickly as possible.

Elvis then carried you up the stairs and straight to your bathroom, setting you on the bathroom counter where your legs dangled and your cheeks were sticky with dried tears and smudged eyeliner. 

Elvis spent the next couple of hours cleaning you, carefully getting rid of any glass that was stuck in your skin and applying cream and ointment onto your wounds, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead every time you winced from the anti-septic. 

"Hurts." You cried as you recoiled every time Elvis applied anti-septic onto your body somewhere. 

"I know it does baby, I know it does, but you're bein' such a brave girl f'me, aren't you? That's right, bein' so brave f'me, m'so proud of you." Elvis cooed. "But this is going to make you better so you gotta keep bein' a brave girl for me, just a little bit more medicine and then we'll go to bed little one." Elvis assured.

Sweet nothings and words of comfort and praise kept coming from Elvis as he continued to clean you up, change you out of your sweet little pink party dress, put your pyjamas on for you and get you all cuddled up into bed. 

Exhaustion consumed you, overwhelming you and making your whole body feel heavy as you sank into the big, plush bed that you and Elvis shared. 

You glanced up at Elvis who settled in next to you, your big eyes gazing up at him. "Promise I didn't mean it, promise I'm sorry." You mumbled feebly.

Elvis sighed, looking down at you as he cupped your face with his large hand that had so delicately looked after you all evening. "I know baby, you ain't got nothin' t'be sorry about princess. There ain't no need to be worried little one, yer with me now baby, I ain't ever gon' be mad atchu, okay? Now, you need to rest, you're overwhelmed baby, but m'gon be right here when you wake up and m'gon make you pancakes for bein' such a good girl f'me tonight." Elvis smiled, watching as a sleepy smile crept onto your face.

"Love you." You lazily hummed before you closed your eyes.

Elvis didn't sleep until he knew you were sleeping soundly, his little sunshine.

[starfxkr]

hmmm how do u think jj would be like when his kitten!gf fully goes on her kittyspace submission … on rare occasions when he had completely tamed her n all 💭

✿༉‧₊˚🐈‍⬛🖤🥛❀༉‧₊˚. ✿༉‧₊˚🐈‍⬛🖤🥛❀༉‧₊˚. ✿༉‧₊˚🐈‍⬛🖤🥛❀༉‧₊˚.

jj’s so sweet because he knows how hard it is for you to submit so completely. you’re on your stomach, body lax, eyes watering & unfocused as he scratches the nape of your neck.

“look at you pretty mama, you feel good huh?” jj knows to talk low and slow when you get like this, he can see the shiver travel up your spine when he does.

“mhm,” you meekly nod, bringing your finger up to your mouth to nibble at the tip of your nail, “i-i want—um…” by this point you were so far gone you couldn’t even verbalise what you wanted.

“shh, i gotchu,” he kisses your shoulder and gently turns you over, running his blunt nails across your belly to make your back arch. “you just wanna be pet dontchu kitten?”

a soft mewl exits your lips as he runs his fingers between your wet folds, never quite giving you the pressure you want. “y-yes please.”

jj nestles his fingers deep inside of you, just to give you something to clench around. your eyes snap shut and he can’t help but to lean over and kiss you from your scrunched nose to your little pout, “mmm yeahh, thats the stuff. now ima make you cum for me okay!” he smooths a hand over your sweaty forehead and tuts, “nah gotta hear you say kitty cat.”

“i wanna cum for you—please let me cum for you.” it was exhilarating watching you submit completely, no clawing or biting, just you with your soft belly exposed with complete trust that he won’t hurt you.

and he won’t, because he’s still soft even when his fingers increase in pressure against your g spot, soaking in every moan and gasp you let out against his laps until your breath hitches. “oh-“

“there she is,” he groans kissing the corner of your parted lips—he could probably cum just from watching you— and brings another hand to stroke his thumb against your nipple as you cum, “you look so pretty like this, my pretty girl makin a mess around my fingers.”

he doesn’t let up, not until that soft squelch increases in volume letting him know it’s coming.

“papa…oh wait.” your mouth drops open in a silent scream as you squirt all over his sheets. when you’re done he takes his fingers from your sensitive cunt and presses them against your puckered hole.

“gotta let me in here next.”

you’re so fucked out you dont fuss, turning over on your stomach and arching your back to present yourself to him.

its very rare he gets you like this, but he thanks god every time.

✿༉‧₊˚🐈‍⬛🖤🥛❀༉‧₊˚. ✿༉‧₊˚🐈‍⬛🖤🥛❀༉‧₊˚. ✿༉‧₊˚🐈‍⬛🖤🥛❀༉‧₊˚.

[fantasynsuch]

Please. (Adam Stanheight x reader NSFW)

TW: SMUT!!! Gonna be sub male, dom woman soo. Mommy kink, and creampie

Word count: 2.8k

@blackbunnymayw for your request!

I wake up groggily, and I don't have any idea as to why I woke up. When I look to my side, my alarm clock reads "2:53 AM". It's not even 3 am.

"Ugh. Why am I awake?" I grunt. I had only gone to bed 2 hours ago, as Adam and I had been.... fooling around.

As I become more aware of my surroundings, I feel a very apparent absence in bed. I'm used to Adam being swaddled tight in my arms when I wake up, so it's easy to notice his absence. He's different than alot of men I know: it doesn't offend him for me to take the lead. He seems to enjoy it more, truthfully.

After my eyes adjust to the dark, I notice the bathroom door is closed, but I can see a sliver of light from underneath it. He's in there, probably.

I get up slowly, as the air is frigid compared to the 10 blankets we have stacked on our bed. The heating has been out since last spring, and the landlord finds a way, every time, to avoid fixing it. Dick.

When I stand, I hear sounds from the bathroom. They sound like.. Adam in pain?

I rush to go to the bathroom, but I slowly realize the sounds are not Adam in pain. Oh.

I stand at the door, and after some thought, I grin. I'm gonna embarrass this boy for all he's worth.

I knock on the door loudly. It sounds like he's scrambling to appear presentable. Items sound like they're being knocked over.

"Baby, what are you doing in there?" I call out loudly.

"C-Coming, babe!" He calls out, stuttering. He's out of breath. Good.

He's shuffling to the dear, and the sight is just as good as seeing him full nude. His hair is scruffy, and his face is red as a ruby. His mouth hangs open as he tries to catch his breath. His shirt had long since been discarded, but his boxers are fully askew, and they hang lower than they should. He probably pulled them up in a hurry. His v-line is gorgeous, as the hair on it blends down. The green eyes I love so much are hidden by hooded lids.

"S-Sorry babe. Just had to use the bathroom." He tries to lie. I know that's a lie. I'll forgive him for it.

"Oh, baby. No, you weren't. But you don't have to be embarrassed." I stand up to his ear and whisper huskily.

"B-but I wasn'-" I cut him off before he can lie anymore.

I reach down and grab his cock through his boxers, and his whimper is mouthwatering. His whimper cuts through the silence, and he falls back a little, likely in shock. He catches himself, and his mouth opens wide.

"A-Ah!" He moans. I smirk: he couldn't lie know. I quite literally have my hands on the truth.

"So what were you doing, baby boy? No need to lie." I rub him through his boxers.

"Momma, please.." He hiccups out.

"Please what boy? You need to spell it out for me." I bite his ear, and his breath catches. He's trembling. I still have his cock firmly in my hand.

"I-I woke up, and I needed you so, so bad. I just d-didn't wanna wake you up, momma.." He trails off. I smirk victoriously.

"Boy, all you need to do is wake me up.. I'm always happy to help a pretty boy like yourself." I kiss his jawline.

"C-could you help, momma? Please.. it hurt's so bad.. I-I need it." He begins slightly grinding into my hand. He's so needy: it's pitiful. I lick my lips.

"Hmm... lemme think about it baby." I go to remove my hand from his progressively greedy grinds, but he reaches for my hand and places it back, desperately.

"Please, momma! I need it so bad." He begs. God, he's so pretty when he begs.

"Okay, baby boy.. no need to get antsy! I'll give you everything you need. Dontchu worry, baby. " He moans at the confirmation that I give him. He grabs my shirt and holds me close.

"T-thank you so, so, so much momma. It was so hard without you." He whispers as he tears up.

"Oh, poor baby. I know, i know. No need to cry. Go get on the bed, baby boy." I kiss him on his trembling lips and lick his bottom lip. I turn around and direct him to get on the bed. He follows my order and sits up against the headboard. He grounds himself and takes a few deep breaths.

I waltz over to the bed, and I climb ontop of him. I straddle his hips, and I feel his cock brush up against my increasingly soaked pussy. I moan and halt.

"Come on baby boy. Let's get out of these uncomfortable boxers. I'm sure they're hurting you so bad." I lick down his neck, and I reach under his boxers to begin pulling them off. He hurriedly rips them off, and I get a view of his cock.

It's delightfully engorged, and his pretty tip leaks from the stimulation. It's so red, and the vein on the side is prominent. His smooth balls are drawn up, presumably from his play time earlier. I must have come in right before he came. His length never intimidated me, but his girth always left me gasping for breath. I sometimes struggle to wrap my hand around it.

I wrap myself on the side of him, and I grab his cock once again. He breathes out.

"You don't cum until I saw so, be a good boy for me." I demand. He nods and closes his eyes.

I reach up to his face, and I place my two fingers at his lips.

"Open." I order, and he listens. He opens his pretty, plump lips and wets my fingers like a good boy. I keep them in there for a few seconds longer and push them back further than I should have. He gags, but after he moans and grips onto my night shirt tight. Removing my fingers from his mouth, I reach back down, and finally, I begin stroking his pretty cock. He moans from the first real touch of the night, and I grin.

As I rub his cock, I reach my head down and bite his little nipples. It was a soft bite, but enough for him to feel it. I lave my tongue over the pebble, and he gasps. I continue to flick my wrist over his cock, but I stop and rub the slit in the top. It's wet from pre-cum, and I massage it into the skin. He whines and bucks his hips.

"m-momma, yo-I feel so good. Y-you're so good to me," He cries out as I remove myself from the side from him and hover over his hips. I continue caressing his cock.

"You better not cum, boy. You want to be momma's good boy, right? Right boy?" I question him, but I know he can't hold himself back.

"Yes m-m-momma! Please keep going.." He pleads with me.

I smile maliciously, and I bring my hips down to fit my lips snug with his cock.

"Well? Go ahead boy. You have to get yourself off. Go on." I demand. He looks taken aback, but he slowly begins to move his hips. His cock isn't inside me, but the friction from his bulbous tip rubbing against my clothed clit sends waves through. His grinding starts shaky, and his moans radiate through our small, dingy apartment. His hips stutter, but he grabs my arms and pulls me down. He holds me onto his chest, as he thrusts his bare and leaking cock into my pelvis. I look down at his face, and it is a beautiful site. His lids are hooded, and his lips are open in an O, releasing his moans and whimpers.

I look down at his pretty lips and lean down to kiss him. I slot my lips against his, and he moans into my mouth at the contact. His tongue tangles with mine, and his spit tastes like toothpaste and his cigarettes. Odd mixture, but it's so uniquely him that I can't get enough of the taste. I moan into his mouth, as his cock manages to hit my clit continuously. His hips falter, and he begins to cry out.

"Momma- I-I need to cum. Please, please, please let me cum. I need it. I need to cum so bad for you. I'll do anything!" He begs with his heart. Poor boy.

"Oh, baby boy. You can wait a little while longer. You will. I won't reward bad behavior." I grin as his pitiful eyes peer into mine.

"Wh-What do I have to do momma? I'll do anything!" He cries out, while slowing down his thrusts, so he doesn't disobey me. Good boy.

I halt his thrusts with a hand to the hip. He looks up, and his eyebrows raise in a silent beg. I move to remove my clothes. My shirt goes first, and while I take that off, I see his puppy eyes looking up at my tits. He reaches for them, but before he could grab one, I grab his hand.

"Patience, boy." I snap. I wasn't really mad. But I have to be a good momma and establish rules.

His sad eyes revere me from below. He's really such a good boy for me. I remove my shorts and the cold air hits the wetness covering my pussy. I shiver, but I go to hover over his face. His eyes widen, in excitement. His arms go to wrap themselves around my legs, and I don't say anything. His excitement is endearing.

"You know what to do. Be a good boy..." I wink down at him and sit down, not placing my full weight.

But before I realize what happened, he pulls me all the way down, to where my full weight was on his gorgeous face. I moan as his nose brushes my red, puffy clit. His tongue licks all around my hole, but not quite there yet. He licks my clit and gently puts my clit in between his teeth. I groan and grind on his face. He whimpers and moves his tongue from my clit to my hole. As he licks around my hole, his hand comes up to grab my tit. His fingers play with my nipple, and he pinches lightly. I grab the headboard, as the mix between pleasures becomes overwhelming. He holds firm onto my tit and continues his assault on my pussy.

"Y-you're such a good boy. I l-love you so much, my good boy. Mine." I whisper. When he hears me, his hips thrust into nothing and he groans into my cunt. The vibrations from his groan send bolts of electricity through my clit. I whimper, and he licks his tongue more vicariously over my clit. I begin to buckle on his face, as I feel the familiar feeling of euphoria wash over my pussy and my limbs.

"O-oh, good boy. You're mine. You're always gonna be mine: I'm always yours. Yeah, just like that... I-I'm gonna cum!" I cry out. These words send him into overdrive, and his eyes shoot open as he makes eye contact with me. He removes his hand from its comfortable place on my tit and places it on my clit. He begins to massage my clit fast, as his tongue continues his ministrations on my hole. I break eye contact with him, and I slump as his fingers on my clit send me into a full body orgasm. I grab onto the cheap headboard and wail out a "I love you" to my good boy. I remove one hand from the headboard and grip his hair as he continues his work on my oversensitive cunt. I look down at him and notice his half-lidded eyes. His green eyes are so fucking beautiful. The last spasm makes its way through my limp body, and I sigh in relief. He just sent me into the most powerful orgasm I have ever had.

I remove my cunt from his face and look at him. His eyes are dazy and his entire lower face is covered in my slick. He did such a good job. I'm going to reward him so good.

"Baby, that was... you did so good. You're so good to me. My good boy." I kiss him and he smiles dopely into the kiss.

"I'm your good boy," he breathes out.

"Yes, baby boy. So good." I confirm. I go to give him his reward. He was so good.

I slot my hole over his dripping, aching cock. I rub myself over it. I shake from the stimulation, but this is about him.

"Mommy, please! It hurts so bad. I was so good." His big eyes look up at me, and I smile at him.

"Yes, baby. You were. Let momma take care of you." I soothe him and lower myself down slowly. His breath catches in his throat, and he cries out.

"Good boy, good boy. Make yourself cum in my pussy." His eyes widen at my order, as I never let him cum in my pussy. Tonight was special.

"Y-yes momma! Thank you so, so much." He babbles out, as his hips push up into my cunt. He isn't going to last long, but that's okay.

"C'mon boy. Use your momma's pussy." I egg him on, and his thrusts get even more sloppy. There is no rhythm behind them, as he chases release. His balls draw up tightly.

"I-I love you momma! Can I come? Please?" He waits for permission. He really is the best boy.

"Of course, baby. Cum for me. Love you so much," I moan into his ear and begin to bring my hips up and down with his sloppy thrusts.

At that, he sobs out a "Love you, Momma," and firmly slots his hips into my cunt. I swivel my hips around, as he comes. He shakes and shakes, and as I swivel my hips around his. I rub his nipples, and I reach down to caress his face to comfort him through his powerful orgasm.

"A-Ahh! M-mommy! 'S too muc-" He pleads, but I swivel my hips harder to bring him to completion. His wails sound like music to my ears, as his hands grip the sheets. He begins to release the sheets, as I slow my hips.

"T-thank you so much." He says, and I smile. I caress my hand under his jaw, and I kiss his strong nose.

"You were such a good boy. The best boy." I look down at him endearingly.

As he finishes completely, I slowly remove my cunt from his cock, and he whimpers pitifully from the overstimulation. I feel the cum dripping from my hole onto the sheets, but I don't care right now.

"Do you need anything, sweetie?" I begin to clean up.

"No.. Just a rag," He asks embarrassed, as he realizes how much of our combined cum got on him. I grin and go to grab the rag and some fresh clothes. I grab our dirty clothes on the way.

As I begin to walk to the bathroom, I feel a hand grab mine, and I look back to see him teary-eyed.

"D-Don't leave me alone-" He begs. Sometimes, he gets like this. After the trap, he had a hard time being alone at all. He would cling to my clothes any time I had to go somewhere in the apartment. It would be endearing, or maybe annoying, had it not been for the reasoning. The poor boy had been left to die- so I understand. I won't ever let him feel like that again. He's better, but he still has a way to go.

"Okay, baby. We can clean up in the morning... Don't you worry." I grip his hand in reassurance. I place the dirty clothes on the floor and climb under the covers with him. I direct him to turn on his side, and I firmly place my cold body on his back. He always was the little spoon. He snuggles into me, as I hear his breathing even out. He isn't in panic mode any more. Good.

"I won't ever leave you, sweet thing. I love you," I lean over his ear, and I whisper.

"You're mine." I grip his hand, and I use the free hand to turn his head slightly. I place my lips onto his raw ones, and I pull back. I kiss up and down his lean neck, and he giggles.

"I love you," He whispers, as he closes his eyes.

"I love you too, Adam. More than you know." I breathe out.

I look at the alarm clock. Its 4:01. I have work in 5 hours. I'll call out. Adam is more important.

[daintykeith]

RUN KID RUN

Title: Run Kid Run

Summary: Dutch and Hosea are trying to teach John how to read but he runs off after they got frustrated and Arthur goes deep into the woods looking for John.

Word count: 2298

Notes: mild cursing | brief scene despicting an almost hanging | feedback is appreciated!!!

Tags: @onlytherocksliveforever

Happy late Christmas and Happy new year! I’m sorry I’m so late, this took me forever; I’ve been giving it a long thought and decided to comply to your second item in your wish list!

2) i love DUMB ASS John Marston and his better looking brother Arthur; give me a slice of life with the two of them pre-canon, or a story about them helping the other thru a tough time.

I’ve decided to combine both ideas and so this story came to be.

When Arthur was twenty-three, he saw a boy—dirty, savage and with a look in his eyes that had given up on living. This boy was with a rope in his neck, ready to be hanged. Dark gray with no reflection but death itself; no tears, no regret. Dead Eyes that held onto dear life with a fierceness reflected in his fists.

Next to the boy, an unnamed man spoke words of dead wisdom and nonsense which to the eyes of Arthur was meaningless.

“We have come to see the of law enacted. We will not sit idly by as people take the law into their own hands!”

Heavy kind of bullshit that Arthur didn’t enjoy a bit.

The crowd of the town roared loudly in excitement and agreement. For them, it was only entertainment, a show that made Arthur’s gut churn with anger. He tilted his hat lower and turned around, ready to move on. However, Dutch’s hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him.

“He looks like you did, a while ago,” Dutch said with a smirk before the gun in his hip shot the rope on the boy’s neck.

“He doesn’t.”

The boy’s shine returned in a glimpse that Arthur caught with both his eyes and heart. A will to fight and survive, to get the hell out of the mess that was about to start.

“What the hell Dutch?!”

“He was not meant to. Not yet.”

A sense of relief in his chest appeared with a long deep breath. He was glad for the boy that had gotten a chance to live, what was Dutch and Hosea thinking when they brought him into camp?

Arthur got wounded in the dirty fight they had in town for freeing the boy and he was resting in his tent, with Susan on his side cleaning his injuries. When Dutch and Hosea walked in, he asked: “What took ya’ so long?” with a warm grin that quickly faded into disbelief.

The boy stood between the two men, pouting his lips, frowning and crossing his arms as means to make himself more intimidating. The way Dutch smiled, looked and treated him with his gentle gestures and Hosea had given his jacket to protect him from the chilling breeze of that night was so familiar to Arthur; he had been in that place after all. What was that boy doing in camp? Similar to himself in the past, why did they needed to bring someone as intense and dumb as him? Wasn’t one dumb enough? He wondered.

“What’s your name, kid?” Arthur asked after he noticed Dutch’s gaze on him.

The boy stood silent.

“Come on boy, tell him.” Dutch crouched to his side and whispered words to him that Arthur wasn’t able to hear.

He remained silent.

When Arthur was twenty-four, he met the boy. A month had passed from his rescue and Arthur’s birthday quickly arrived with the cold and mean air of winter. There was no snow landscape yet, the skies had become dark and gray like the boy’s eyes and the fallen leaves

“John Marston,” the boy said with a mean streak that left Arthur with a bad taste in his tongue.

“Arthur Morgan.” He extended his hand to greet but John had already abandoned and left him with the words unsaid in his lips.

Arthur sighed and placed his hands on his gun belt; he could see John’s silhouette far away, hiding somewhere where he thought no one could see him, and grinned. A part of him still refused to acknowledge John, prouder than a bull and wilder than a cougar in a midnight sky, and another part of him found itself in that boy who slept with a knife under his pillow.

“John, come here!” Dutch called the next morning.

Arthur was laying in comfortably in his bed, with his worn-out leather hat covering his eyes, thinking about what to draw in his journal. A bird? A flower? An herb? His imagination was as dull as dishwater and his brain couldn’t tell skunks from house cats. Boredom was partly guilty of the dullness, too.

“John, come on.” From his closed tent, Arthur saw how Hosea’s figure grabbed John’s arm and took him somewhere beyond the reach of their shadow. A loud growl, from the boy, echoed through the whole camp that Arthur scoff. The boy was that stubborn?

The blue-eyed man closed his journal, stood up from his bed and walked out of his tent to do the chores of the day. As he chopped wood, he could see Dutch and Hosea, with John between them, sitting together in one of the round tables near the food station with a book in hand. This was going to be fun to see, Arthur thought.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Dutch said firmly. “Read this part here.”

“No,” John scowled.

“Why not? It’s not that hard if you try. Here. The king in his…” Hosea slowly talked

John went silent.

“Boy,” Dutch lowly growled.

Arthur swung his axe over the log and splat it in half. When he was putting the wood aside, he peeked at John. The boy had his arms crossed, frowning and giving the book in the table a deadly gaze. Did he hate reading that much? Arthur laughed to himself and got caught by Hosea who looked at him with disapproval. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He tried to slowly walk away, feigning ignorance, but the older man approached quicker than he predicted and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Arthur.” Hosea squeezed hard the shoulder blade and grinned in a way that created grimace in Arthur’s expression, “wanna’ join us? I thought I could show you the new book I got!”

Arthur grunted.

Just great. He knew Hosea’s way of scolding Arthur and thinking about it annoyed him, however, he didn’t expect to see Dutch vexed, red-faced and squeezing the book with both his hands, yelling to John.

On the other hand, Hosea was perplexed. He dragged his hands over his now tired face and sighed.

“He wasn’t this troublesome!” Dutch said to Hosea, referring obviously to Arthur.

Something in that statement made Arthur chest puff in pride. Oh boy, he really liked that. Even if he refused to acknowledge this feeling to everyone else, he liked it when Dutch or Hosea praised him.

Arthur remembered the days when Dutch and Hosea were teaching him to read. Hot summer days, mosquitoes everywhere and that smell he couldn’t forget, berries and lemon, which brought his mind ten years back, when he was a thin, small and young boy. He grinned to the loveable thought and looked at Dutch fighting with John.

“Dutch, what’re ya doin’!? Don’t ya’ grab him like that and rub his head!”

“I know he can do it, but he’s not even trying!”

Something Arthur knew is that Dutch would take as “true” whatever he assumed; and hardly took back his words—standing for what he believed, a true blessing for the wise and a curse for the ignorant. Later on, Arthur didn’t know which of those Dutch was. A true mystery until the very end.

“Dutch, calm down, you’re gonna scare ‘im…”

“But I know he can—"

“Shut up, you pair of dimwits!” Susan yelled from afar as she sewed one of Arthur’s shirt.

And before any of them could say any further word, John slammed his hands against the table and ran away into the woods that surrounded the camp.

“Get back here, boy!”

What a mess. When Arthur saw no signs of Dutch calming down or Hosea backing down, he decided to look out for the now goner.

“John! Where are ya’!?” Arthur yelled as he stomped over some broken sticks. Definitively John.

“Ya’ damn bastard, dontchu’ ever get tired?” he whispered to himself, wondering as he furrowed his brows and rushed his pace.

As he walked deeper into the woods, the stars that normally would be faded under sunlight, had come out without any shame, telling Arthur to hurry. The breeze got colder and the sky darker and even if he found clues of where he could have gone to, the boy sure knew how to keep out of sight. He was going nuts; what the hell was the kid running from?! He had nothing to run from and nowhere to go, what was he thinking?

“John!” He called once more before he heard a gasp to his side.

The moment he turned his head, he saw a terrified boy who had fallen into the ground. Unlike the first time he saw him, fierceness shone in his eyes despite of the fear that his thin body could not hide—however, that didn’t mean it wasn’t agile. He quickly got up into his feet and started running towards the glowing moon.

“Oh no, you ain’t!”

He could hear John’s broken breathing and how he gasped for the air he didn’t have; it broke Arthur’s heart.

“Watchu’ running from, kid?!”

Arthur got closer with every step he took and grabbed without any restrains John’s wrist to stop him, quite brusque for his liking but there was nothing he could do. Those iron eyes gazed at him with the loathe and anger he deserved which left a sour flavor in his mouth. John struggled to free himself from Arthur’s grip but it only got stronger.

“Lemme ask you again, kid. Watchu’ running from?”

John struggled again and Arthur grabbed his other wrist. He took a deep breathe and closed his eyes for a moment. Was it this hard for everyone else to deal with him? Being a kid in the streets wasn’t easy, it roughens you up in a way that shatters what you truly are, breaking and eventually rotting every corner in your mind. But he was no kid in the streets no more, he could finally begin living and not just survive.

“He wanted to kill me,” John replied in a quick low whisper.

Arthur raised a brow. “Dutch was shootin’ his mouth off and by now Hosea and Susan must have given ‘im a black eye for that.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“Let go!” John fought with all his strengths to free himself; Arthur tightened his grip.

“Listen to me, kid. You got nothing to run from; here you got a bed, food and people who want ya’—”

“Dead…” John interrupted.

“Let me finish! Goddamit—as I was saying. None of ‘em want ya’ to be a goner.”

“How can I trust you? They all said I was an idiot, useless. They all hate me and they’ll kill me. It’s better if I’m gone.”

“We’re family.” Arthur meant it. He had found a part of himself in the little black-haired boy that wanted to keep running; running to never look back, from all the things he didn’t deserve.

“We ain’t.”

“Listen to me you little piece of…! You became part of us the very moment Dutch cut that rope on your neck and brought you into the camp.”

“Still; that doesn’t mean I can trust you guys. You’re outlaws.”

John wasn’t buying a single bit of what Arthur was saying. Shit. At this rate he was gonna run off by himself and God knows what would happen to him.

“They took me in when I was your age.” John’s eyes widened in curiosity; “I… well, my momma died when I was real young and my daddy… let’s say I wish he did too. They taught me how to read and Hosea taught me how to draw.”

Despite of the nervousness inside him, Arthur took the journal out of his satchel and gave it to John without letting go of one of his wrists. He eagerly flipped through the pages and stopped to look at some of the drawings it contained; some of the graphite stuck into his fingers, but it didn’t stop him from eyeing with detail each illustration.

“Why didn’t ya’ read? Back then, when Dutch and Hosea asked you to.”

There was a long pregnant pause. “I did—read it, I mean. I, uh, wasn’t sure to er, say it out loud.”

“Really?” Arthur smiled from ear to ear. “See? You’re smart, John! Ya’ ain’t that bad, there’s potential.”

John blushed at Arthur’s praise and kept looking at the drawings until he reached the last one, that page that had remained blank for the whole day.

“They are family to me. Family is everything; I’d die for it.” His voice didn’t shake even once.

John closed the journal and gave Arthur a gaze full of admiration that Arthur wasn’t worthy of. He could be one nasty son-of-a-bitch, rash to anger and emotions; unfamiliar to giving inspirational speeches like Dutch would do or smooth-talking like Hosea the Conman.

“And I will…” he stuttered, “I, uh…”

“You what.”

“I won’t let them kill ya’; just in case.”

A mischievous grin appeared in John’s face. “That won’t stop me tho.”

Arthur had let his guard down. John escaped from his grip and started to run the fastest he could. Where the hell was he going to and, most importantly, where the heck had he gotten all that damn energy from?

“Cuz’ I’ll kill ya’ myself, you little piece of shit!”

“Thank you, brother” John screamed in the distance.

“You ain’t got the right to be my brother!” Yet, he wanted to say but kept it to himself.

That day, when Arthur was twenty-four, his family grew by one member. Even if mocked him every now and then and behaved like assholes, it was the most important thing to Arthur. It was everything he had—not like money or gold; those two could go straight to hell unless Dutch and Hosea gave the word.

[vanchlo]

The Partner / Chapter Eight, "The In Between"

Word Count: 6.1k words /  Story Masterlist /  Read The Assistant /  Read on Wattpad / Song: Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses (click to listen)

P.S. - Next chapter will be coming on March 23rd, but I only know this because I've written it already :P Otherwise, I know that they are pretty random which I'm sorry for. Thanks for reading!

"People live with things they don't talk about hidden in their heart."

- Un-Go アンゴ

There, I stop, because I realize what I’ve done. I hear it in my words and in her weeping, the step that I shouldn’t have taken. Without knowing, I spoke in present tense, and knew that I’d only made it worse. It reminded us of what we couldn’t have- what we wouldn’t have. What should’ve been. Should be.

Her head shook from side to side, although belatedly. Her cries had quieted at moments too, that is until her head dove back against my chest, and they returned. I held her there, pressing my lips to her head and closing my eyes, being sucked back into my thoughts. The should’ve-beens made a regretful comeback, and as each one paid a reminder to me, so did a tear down each cheek.

Two Weeks Earlier

Despite the sunshine pouring in through the window, the sight of the glittering snow outside my window chilled me to the bone. Wrapping my arms around myself didn’t help as the cold seeped in through my cardigan.

“Cold, again?” somebody chuckles from over my shoulder.

“Yeah. God, can you turn up the heat in this place, or what?”

“I dunno, you’ve already had me turn it up three degrees t’day. Not sure my Dad brain will allow me anymo.’ Yer gonna make me heatin’ bill skyrocket here soon.”

“Harry,” I giggle, looking behind me to catch his face just in time for him to surprise me with a hug from behind. “Come on, the baby and I are cold. You better soon, or else I’m buying a space heater for my office.”

“Yer gonna be usin’ that kid as an excuse fer ev’rythin.’ Arentcha, Becks?” a shiver runs down my spine at the feeling of his beard against my temple, but it doesn’t compare to his freezing hands on my stomach.

“Yes, because are you trying to make me turn into an icicle with those hands of yours?”

“What, I jus’ got back from lunch. ‘s winter outside, don’t y’know?”

“Wow, I had no idea,” I reply snarkily with a nod to my window before us.

“Watch it, sassy pants, or ‘ll keep those churros fer myself.”

The scoff is already curling my lips when I turn around, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,” Harry contests, raising a brow at me until it all dissolves into his wheezy laughter. “Hey, put that pout away, sweetheart.”

“Don’t try to butter me up, mister,” I mutter, turning away from his waiting arms. His tongue clicks in response but I ignore it, starting for my phone that rings.

“Becks, I was only kiddin.’ Y’know I wouldn’t take away yer churros, love, they’re yer favourite,” he begins, but for some reason that really annoyed me. It doesn’t help when he takes hold of my hand, rooting me to the spot. “Hey, Crabby Pants, yer phone can wait. They can leave a message, but I wanna talk t’ my fiance.”

“What?” I mumble, facing him at last. The corners of his lips lift, and his contagious happiness is hard to resist.

“‘m sorry fer teasin’ you. ‘ll see ‘bout turnin’ tha heat up on this side, and yer churros are waitin’ in me office. ‘d never deprive my baby’s mum o’ her favourite food. No, not my wifey.”

“You better not,” I sigh, giggling against his lips when they press to mine. The gold flecks in his sage-colored irises catch the light when he looks down at me. Sometimes, I still wonder how the sunshine on his face could all be for me.

“I won’t,” Harry hums, reminding me of his own little ray of sunshine when his hand comes to my belly. “Ya should be careful with those churros, I think yer startin’ t’ show.”

“Am not.”

“Are to. Ya had a li’l bump this mornin’ when we were gettin’ ready. I saw it in tha mirror in tha bathroom when you were changin.’ Cutest thing I ever did see,” he coos, painting my face in thick strokes with that radiant smile of his. “Boobs are gettin’ bigger and bum too. ‘m likin’ this whole pregnant thing on you mo’ and mo’ ev’ry day.”

“Of course, you are,” I whisper, feeling the smile drain from my lips when the light catches it. The doctor said they’d fade with time, but three months on and the pink lines still won’t let me forget that nightmare I can’t escape. I saw them every day, in the shower with him or when I watched him get dressed beside me in the bathroom. The mornings when I woke up before him and dragged a finger across his tattoos. He was lucky that none of them were ruined by the numerous stitches, but they got by unscathed. I just wish I could say the same for everything else, for me.

“Hey, where’d that pretty smile go?” Blinking, I focus my gaze back on the dimples that fall into his cheeks.

“Your scars, they’re still . . ,” my train of thought disappears, because it’s nothing that I haven’t said before.

“Still there. I know, they jus’ don’t go away, buggie.” Frowning, his words sink in, but for maybe the fifth time. With a huff, I distract myself with the cream tie dotted with blush flowers that he picked out today. “Hey you, dontchu roll those pretty eyes at me.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are. ‘s it ‘cos somebody hasn’t had her churros yet this week?” his whiny voice grazes my ears from above. It’s difficult, but I control my lips and busy myself with picking a loose thread from his tie. “Becks, I see that smile,” he continues in a mocking tone, and soon I’m giggling against his neck as his nose drags along mine.

“‘Kay, baby, ‘m gonna go and grab yer lunch befo’ my meetin’.”

I whisper a ‘thanks’ against his lips before watching him disappear into the hallway. It’s not often, but my office is quiet, absent of the constant sounds of keys clicking, phones ringing, and a certain somebody being quite good at distracting me. Crossing the room, I plop down in front of my computer. The new messages showing on the side jump at my attention, but what grabs it is the picture frame beside it. With a smile that makes my cheeks ache, I pick it up to admire for the tenth time today. I’m sure that I’ll hit one hundred here, sooner or later.

“Think I like yer frame better, y’know.”

“Really?” I respond, lifting my eyes to Harry who sets down a greasy taco bag on my desk, a protein shake on the side. Don’t even get me started on how he’s already the nagging Dad.

“Ya, like the color and phrase better,” he notes, making me squirm from his hand on my side. It’s forgotten when it travels over to my belly, the exact place I hadn’t realized I’d laid a hand on too. “Can hardly believe it’ll be four months in two and a half weeks. We’re almost halfway there.”

“I know, it’s crazy to me.”

His mumbled agreement comes as I trace the lines of our baby’s profile over the frame’s glass partition. The same frame had sat on my desk for a while now, often updated with the newest sonogram picture after our latest ultrasound. One similar to it sat on Harry’s desk too, both a present from him. Several more occupied our fridge, phone lockscreens at times, and I’m sure in similar forms at both of our parents’ houses.

“Me too. I can’t wait tho,’ t’ be a dad.”

I didn’t think that my smile could get any bigger, but when I tip my head up to look at Harry hovering there, somehow it does.

“You’re going to be the best daddy.”

Sunshine fills every inch of his face, especially in the dimples caved into his cheeks. I hope our baby has those. Please.

“Why thank you. I feel rather lucky my kids get t’ have such a wonderful mummy too,” he notes with a quick wink, sponging a kiss to my forehead warmly. A few moments pass of admiring the picture until his voice interrupts my thoughts again. “Yer sure ‘s okay ‘m helpin’ My’ with that case in Bedford comin’ up?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Won’t miss me too much, will you?”

Now, I don’t even bother to hide the way that I roll my eyes at him, accompanied by a sound of disgust. His nose wrinkles before his face creases in annoyance.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” I almost retort with a joking tone, until I melt at the way he rubs his nose against mine in what some call a kiss. “We’ve been over this, Harry, it’s fine. Skye can stay the night with me if I get lonely, or something. I know an opportunity to have another win against your arch enemy can’t be passed up.”

This time, I really stumped him. It brings a song to my lips, because it’s not often that I get to surprise him anymore. Sometimes, I miss those days, but I’d never go back to them. No, we didn’t have the sweet honeymoon period of first meeting, it was the total opposite. I’d never give up where we’d finally gotten to now, engaged and expecting a baby in a little over five months.

“He ‘s not.”

Still, the crease between his eyebrows remains and I only want to laugh more, “Is too. Malakai Watters is your arch enemy, Harry. You’ve been griping about him since I first met you, no excuse about it is going to work on me.”

Shaking his head, I already hear the argument coming my way, “Watters ‘sn’t my enemy, you silly one, he never has been. ‘ve never had any enemies.”

“Lies and more lies. I’m pretty sure we were enemies once, but you’ll excuse that one too.”

“Eh, I think I can agree with that one,” his face has relaxed and so has his shoulders that rise and fall softly. The green in his eyes lights up when he cracks a laugh from above, despite still being upside down for me. At last, he spins me around and pins me with his hands planted on my armrests. He always has to hog those, at movies and in the car. “Enemies? I dunno ‘bout that word, but you drove me bloody mad in the beginnin,’ so much so ‘s a wonder ‘m marryin’ you now. Wouldn’t have believed anybody if they’d told me back then you’d become my bride. Snotty li’l Holte, me personal assistant.”

“Harry!” comes my exclamation, and like always, followed by his innocent giggle. Innocent, my ass.

“Hey, you were jus’ as guilty, Becks, don’t go denyin’ it. You did everythin’ in the fuckin’ book t’ push me buttons.”

I’m laughing before him and unsure of how to stop until grabbing hold of his neck to press my lips to his. His laugh buzzes against my mouth, cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. That little churro thief. The gold in his eyes is sparkling when we separate, my cheeks aching once more.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” my question comes in a mumbled sigh, eyes darting between his reddening cheeks and glistening eyes. Wait, what? “Harry, why are you crying?”

“Have I ever told you how lucky I am t’ have you tho’?” Giggling for a reason I don’t know why, I lose myself in those neverending greens for the hundredth time.

“Perhaps, but another time wouldn’t hurt my ego.”

A wry titter escapes his lips for just a second when the first tear glides down his cheek. One that I immediately catch with the pad of my thumb.

“No, I mean it. We fought like cats and dogs when we first met, and we hated each other,” he goes on in a voice leaking of that molasses once more. Mine begin to part until his terse shaking head tells me ‘no.’ “Hush you, don’t you lie either. I know we hated each other’s guts nearly, but outta nowhere, you became my best friend. A few hundred hiccups between then and now, and look at us, gettin’ hitched and havin’ a baby.”

“Yeah,” is all that I can come up with. More like the only words I can shove past my lips. Ones that already tremble from the emotion spilled from his sunshine eyes. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Reckon I have you t’ thank that fer, and loads mo,’” he corrects with wrinkled brows and a rub to my belly. Memories swim behind my eyelids as I kiss him back, hoping that if this is a dream after all, that I never have to wake up.

/

I wasn’t sure where I was anymore. No, this place I had never seen before with my two eyes, visited in my dreams, or travelled to in a book. Looking around me for some clue as to where I was, all I could see was golden trees, robin blue cloudless skies, and sunlight pouring in from every corner. It shined on my face and filled me with a warmth, one that I felt underneath my bare feet. When I peered down, my hands habitually went to my stomach but I found that it was completely flat once more.

A question filled my head instantly at the discovery, one that joined the many others of where I was, and everything that was around me. It all fell away instantly when something else took place inside of my head. I could never describe it to anybody or put my finger on it, but that feeling of mine told me that I wasn’t alone. Still with my hands on my stomach, I looked back up and found a young girl walking towards me. Sunlight shone down on her, following her as she walked through the kneehigh grass dotted with flowers. For a reason I couldn’t name, I didn’t want to look away from her in case she disappeared, but my attention was drawn to the beautiful field we were suddenly in. Wild flowers tickled my legs, reaching up to the lilac dress that fell to my knees and hugged the curve of my shoulders.

At the sound of rustling nearby, I glanced upwards once more to find her stopping a few feet away from me. There it was still, that feeling of mine, and as I stood there looking at her beaming up at me, I felt the way it filled my insides. There was something about her that I couldn’t figure out, but I feel like I should know who she is. I tried as I looked into her olive green eyes that sparkled with the secret she knew and I didn’t. A divot fell into one of her freckled cheeks as they rounded from her spreading lips. It sat there on the tip of my tongue as my feet led me forward, as if she was calling me to her. I didn’t know why or how I could, but I felt as if I knew her. This is what brought my hand forth to cradle her cheek, and thumb at the dark ringlets tickling her heart-shaped face.

She couldn’t be more than seven, a few years older than Harper. The second the thought appeared inside of my head, I wanted to shake it, knowing it couldn’t be. But as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around me, I felt the wetness descend onto my cheeks as she surrounded me with her sunshine like warmth. It felt as if I was hugging my younger self, because she was a spitting image of what I looked like, save for those green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against my dress where she nuzzled her head into my chest.

“What are you sorry for?” I asked in return, rubbing circles into her shoulder where the sleeves of her green dress ended, the same shade as her eyes. She didn’t offer an answer, only squeezed me tight before pulling away to look at me with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?” the words spilled out when a tear raced down her cheek, her smile disappearing.

Again, she didn’t answer me, only hastily encircling me once again with her arms. Once more, questions danced around in my head, chasing answers that wouldn’t come, subconsciously or from this little girl. Somehow, I knew her and felt close to her, but I didn’t know how or why. She was beautiful and so sweet, I already knew but I wasn’t sure how.

An ache filled my chest when the next words left her lips, ones that I couldn’t begin to understand. “I’ll miss you.”

Instead of uttering another question that would go unanswered, I held onto her tighter, trying to make out what she had called me at the end there. It was a name, but not one I could remember now. The songs of birds flying overhead surrounded us, as did the trickling of a nearby stream, and a hummed song that I knew from somewhere. One he would always sing to me, but for some reason, I couldn’t recall who he was now.

“Who are-,” my long awaited question came, but it was torn away when I looked down to find my arms empty. In a confused blink, the grassy field decorated with flowers and sunshine was gone.

At my feet, sat cold tiling and the birds were no more. So was the sunshine and warmth. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around me, feeling very cold all of a sudden. Belatedly, I looked up and at my surroundings, wondering where I was now. A dimmed, empty room stared back at me, quiet from the sounds of the world until one broke through the silence.

A cry pierced my ears, and made me spin around. A door stood across the room to my right, where the sound came from. Without knowing what I was doing, my bare feet padded across the chilly floor, and I twisted the handle. Another room awaited me, but this one wasn’t empty. Nor was I alone.

Rows upon rows of hospital cribs stared back at me, little bundles of blankets sat in each one. Babies. They all were quiet except for one. My feet led me in that direction without me knowing it, because there it was again. My feeling. It guided me towards the sound, one that grabbed hold onto something deep inside of me. I knew what it was and what I heard, it was clear as day.

A smile shot up into my cheeks when I stopped at the cradle that held a squirming, crying baby. Its pink face was pinched from wailing, a blush colored hat covering its head as a striped blanket hid its body. But as I reached out to pick them up, I blinked and they were gone. Stepping back, I stumbled and righted myself. Where did they go?

Where’s my baby?

Tears clung to my eyelashes, blurring my vision as I stared at the empty crib. A divot in the miniature mattress stared back at me, and so did something else. My bottom lip wobbled as a briny tear ran over it, but it came to shake harder when I read the name card stuck to the inside of the rolling crib.

Annie S.

Before me, my hand trembled as I reached into the crib, feeling the corner of the card before-

“Becks, lovebug,” a voice murmurs, and the image is ripped away from me. With a jolt, I feel the warmth of a hand on my shoulder, rubbing a line down my back. I’m glad to have been woken up by him and torn away from that nightmare, but at the same time, I’m not. I wanted answers. “It’s time to get up and have a shower, my love. It’s six-thirty, you have to wake up soon so we can go to work.”

Gulping, nothing will go down as a ball sits in my throat. Peeling my eyes open, Harry and I’s familiar bedroom materializes before me. With a ragged breath that races to fill my lungs, a wetness paints my cheeks.

“You can sleep for a little longer, bug, but I’m going to hop in the shower, if you want to join me,” his whisper comes against my temple. Hastily, I turn to bury my face into the pillow, hiding my wet eyes. “Okay then, but you have to be up in half an hour,” Harry finishes, pressing his warm lips to the top of my head.

As I listen to the sound of his parting footsteps, I grasp onto the covers tightly. Only when I hear the spray of the shower and him close the door behind him, do I let loose my sobs into the pillow. I lie there, wondering, why the tears and what is that dream supposed to mean? I’d had weird pregnancy dreams before, vivid ones even, but nothing like that. No, never.

Who was that little girl, and how did I know her? And where had my baby gone, I think to myself as I rub at my belly, worrying away.

/

“Ree, what do you mean you’re not getting married?”

Rolling my eyes could not begin to convey the thoughts racing through my head, born out of her exclamation.

“Of course, I’m getting married, Skye. What, are you daft? That’s not

what I’ve said at all, if you’d been listening,” I tut with an unruly shake of my head, snapping the cap back onto the honey bottle. “You asked when the wedding was, and all I’ve said is that Harry and I don’t know with everything that’s changed. We had a date for August but cancelled it after we found out about the baby.”

The sofa sighs when I plop onto it, leaving my steaming mug on the table. My best friend of over twenty years tsks beside me, biting off the side of a cookie. Her faux disappointment is all but lost on her when her eyes brighten, cookie crumbs soon falling from her hands.

“Speaking of, let’s see that bump. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” she nearly squeals, reaching forward to lift my shirt.

“Goodness, Skye, assault me much? All you’ve got to do is ask, don’t need to be undressing me now,” my response comes in a giggle, one that soon falls away when her hands fly to her mouth. My lips soon slide into a smirk that I find hard to control at the sight of her, after lifting my shirt the rest of the way.

“Bloody hell, you do have a bump, and it’s getting big! Fuck, I wish my boobs were as big as yours. Totally unfair, that is.”

“I dunno what you and Harry are on about, I hardly see anything,” I remark with a shrug, the smile staying when her hand comes to rub my pale stomach. “I just look bloated.”

“Ree, come on,” she scoffs with a tilt to her lips that to my surprise, remains quiet as she stares at my stomach. “It’s more than just bloated, you idiot. You’re pregnant, you’re having a baby. Sure, it takes a while to show, but you’re starting to!”

“Hardly,” I chuckle, dropping my blouse once she leaned back against the pillow with her cup of joe. “It’s weird being at this awkward stage where I’m pregnant but I don’t look pregnant.”

“I can imagine, but hold on. Take a few steps back to the ‘not knowing when you’re getting married’ part. Do you and Harry really not know?”

“How are we supposed to?” it comes out in a laugh, not as I’d expected at all. “I’m due to pop this baby out around the same time we had it planned for in the first place.”

“So,” she begins whilst blowing on her coffee. Something clicks inside of me when that happens, along with the raise of her brow. “You’re just happy with waiting, and not knowing when it’ll be? That doesn’t sound like you, Ree.”

“Thanks for being depressing, Skye,” I try to say with a laugh, but it doesn’t go over well, because I can’t find one. No, if there was anybody else in the world who could read me like a book, it’s my first grade best friend. “No, I’m not really happy about waiting, but I’m excited about this baby, and what is being married besides vowing to date each other forever? No, it actually is okay. We’ll figure it out. Maybe we’ll randomly go to the courthouse one day- don’t worry, you’ll be invited, if we do. Or just wait and make it grand- you know, once I lose the baby weight or something.” I sip from my peppermint tea with a hand on my bump, knowing that I couldn’t be happier, but still wondering how we’re going to do all of this.

“Don’t be so sad, Ree, my god!” she exclaims with a playful swat to my shoulder. I laugh along with her, but as I stare into my tea, it doesn’t remain for long. She’d hit a nerve and with a cautious glance her way, I can tell that she knows it. “How’s about the house? The six bedroom and three bath with a grand yard, covered porch, marble kitchen island, fireplace, walk in closet, and dare I say, a pool?” she blabbers on in a posh sounding voice, making me laugh this time.

“Good, it’s um, good. I dunno what else to say, Harry’s the one who talks to the contractors and all,” I offer with an outstretched hand, unsure of my words.

“Come on, Ree, you’re building a bloody house!” her boisterous laugh comes. Her eagerness shows, as well as the three glasses of wine she had with dinner. I’m not sure the one cup of black coffee is going to help her much.

“I know, but I dunno- I more so just go over the plans with Harry and approve them, I guess?” I say with a large shrug of my shoulders. “There’s not much to update you on since you last asked about it. It’s a house, they take forever to build. I won’t get to have much fun with it until it comes to like, picking wallpaper and tiling.”

“Well, will it be ready by the time the baby comes?”

“I doubt it, but Harry keeps insisting it will,” I muse aloud, watching the ripples in the brown liquid when I blow on it, feeling the steam grace my cheeks. “It’s fine if it isn’t.”

“Your response to everything is ‘it’s fine,’ since when are you like that?”

Pressing my lips together, I lift my head to meet her curious stare, a tired one after that wine, “I’m just going with the flow, Skye. I’ve found it’s better than being upset about plans being changed. I wanted to get married, then build a house, and then have a baby. But it’s okay, we get to do the baby part first. It’s like dessert before dinner, and I can do that. It’ll be fun,” I tell her, feeling the truth in them as well as the grimy half-lie.

Should I tell her or will she brush it off, as if it’s nothing? It wasn’t nothing to me though, that dream this morning, it’s bothered me all day. I’m not sure how much longer I can go without telling somebody about it, but it scares me to have to recount it, and being afraid they’ll tell me it means nothing. Because that’s the last thing it meant to me, and something inside of me keeps telling me that I shouldn’t just forget about it.

“If you insist,” she sighs, clucking her tongue. “Are you two still meeting Asher and I tomorrow night?”

“Y-Yeah,” I answer shakily, too deep in my thoughts to notice the way the tea burns my lips. What if I can’t figure out what that dream meant, will it be okay?

/

A cacophony of sounds pelted my ears the second we walked in the door. Apparently we weren’t the only ones with the good idea of trying the new pizza and arcade place on a Friday night.

“Well, this place ‘s neat, innit?” Harry comments as we approach a table tucked into the corner, between skeeball and some flappy bird looking game.

“Yeah, it looks great. Loads of games,” Asher comments when we pull out chairs to sit across from them. “No, don’t sit down. We just ordered the pizzas, but they may take a little while. Let’s go and get started on the games. I saw Pacman and a Supermario game when we came in,” he continues emphatically, already getting up from his seat. Skye laughs beside him, joiningAsher as I let go of the chair.

We pass parents and children, teenage couples, and a few others like us on our way to the front. There, we find the machine that’s replaced the coin contraption back from our day. No, you no longer had to feed coins into each game and have paper tickets spit out at you.

“’s kind o’ sad, dontchu think? ’s all digital now. Ya don’t have tha fun anymo’ o’ counting tha tickets and yer coins,” Harry muses while sliding a card from his wallet.

“It’s easier to keep track of.”

“I suppose, but that’s no fun. It made me day findin’ a lost coin or line o’ tickets on the ground,” he hums with a shake of his head, pressing buttons on the touch screen. “How much should we do, you think?”

“I dunno,” I answer, forgetting the screen showing different dollar amounts and a description of how some games cost more than others. Instead, my attention is pulled to behind me. I’d seen her on our way in, but now, I look again at the mum sitting in the corner feeding her young baby, watching on as the dad holds up their son to shoot basketballs.

“Hey, ’m talking t’ you,” somebody says, nudging my shoulder with theirs. Turning back around, I find Harry’s green eyes waiting for me with furrowed brows. “Right now, we’re kids again with their friends, playin’ arcade games on a Friday night and stuffin’ themselves with pizza. We still have a ways t’ go on that, five and a half months actually,” he notes softly, nodding his head towards the mum.

“Yeah,” I murmur sheepishly, crossing my arms and looking back at the screen.

“I didn’t mean it rudely, Becks.”

“I know. A tenner should be fine, let’s just do that. We can always load more money onto it,” I insist, lifting my feet and clicking them together, like I’m Dorothy and wanting to go back home. Because, well, I do. It’s loud and my stomach hurts, I’m not sure from hunger or nausea, or both.

I’d been excited when we’d agreed to come here with Skye and Asher earlier this week, but no matter how much I tried to push it away, that stupid dream couldn’t be forgotten. Especially since I had it again last night, and I dreaded going to sleep tonight, in fear I’d see that mysterious little girl and that empty crib where our baby should be. It-

“Becks?”

“Wh-What?” I stammer, looking up quickly to find Harry waving a plastic card at me.

“We’re all set,” he announces, stepping to the side so Asher and Skye can buy theirs next. I follow him, moving out of the way for a little boy and his big brother to come through, rushing to the bathroom behind us. “You okay? Not feelin’ sick or anythin’, are you?”

I think about shaking my head, but when I look back into his eyes, I get The Look. The Harry Styles Look. The Look of all Looks. No, it wasn’t the killer stare I’d first familiarized him with when I sat at that desk at the end of his hall. This one came not soon after though, and it’d stuck. Ever since then he could read all of my tells, including how uncomfortable I am right now, or maybe just how I’m overthinking. He knew that look too.

“I’m probably just hungry.”

The curl hanging over his forehead is knocked loose when his head bobs up and down, but I reach a hand up to set it back in place.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get some pizza in that belly soon. I know how you’ve been craving it,” his dimples once again hide under his beard, one that had been growing thicker as the winter carried on. I feel its length when his lips sponge a kiss to my temple, his hand caressing my bump only a few seconds later.

“Thanks.”

After a few games, I found myself getting into it more and laughing at Harry’s competitiveness. I’d learned a long time ago that laughing about it was better than getting mad about it, and also that going to play games with Skye turned out better, watching the boys play from the sidelines.

“You doing okay, Boops? Tummy not good or are you tired?” the question came as I watched the little screen rack up my tickets from a Scooby Doo version of Whack a Mole. Instead of a red button marked with ‘25 cents’ a touchscreen with a card swipe sat there.

“Both, but what’s new?” I murmur, following her past Ring Toss, some car racing game that doesn’t give you tickets, and Space Invaders. At last, we found Air Hockey open and decided to have a go.

“So, what is it really?”

“What’s what?” I replied with an air of faux stupidity, pretending to focus hard on hitting the puck back her way.

“Why have you been acting weird lately? Just because I had some wine last night doesn’t mean I didn’t notice it.”

“Oh, that. You noticed,” I comment, avoiding her eyes even when she gets the puck past me. Bending over, I pluck it from the holder and hit it over to her, following it.

“Yeah, I noticed that. Whatever it is, which by the way, what is it again that’s bothering you?”

“You don’t sound very smart when you’re drinking. You do know that, don’t you?” a laugh is close to my lips, but it disappears almost as soon as it’s thought. As if to spite me, she picks up the glass of the pink hard cider she’d ordered. Sometimes, I missed drinking and how it made nights like these all the more fun.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” she sighs, tsking when I make the puck into her goal. Groaning, she slams the rest of the cider before dropping the puck onto the glow in the dark table. “But really, what is it?”

“God, are you and Harry stubborn,” I remark with a near groan, taking her cue when she hits it hard my way, deciding to do the same. “Fine . . so I had this dream the other night, like a nightmare almost and . . . ,” I carry on, detailing the entire thing to her, almost hoping that maybe if she says it’s nothing, her inebriated mind won’t remember it.

“Good game, glad you could get some rage out on that one, seeing as how you nearly gave me a bruise that one time.”

“Sorry,” the word drops carelessly as we walk away from the table and through a loud pack of kids. She makes a comment about never wanting kids, only to turn to me regretfully with the same word on her face. “It’s okay. I’m probably worrying for nothing.”

“I know you and don’t want to say that myself, but it was just a dream, Ree. Aren’t they like, manifestations of your thoughts and all that jazz? Maybe you saw the little girl once or see yourself in her, and want to protect her. It’s the mother in you coming out, I’m sure. I wouldn’t worry too much about it and what it means, it’s just a dream.”

“Yeah, it’s just a dream,” I agree aloud, more grateful than ever for Harry and Asher stepping in our path, telling us the pizzas had arrived. Sitting down beside Harry and arguing with him about Hawaiian pizza whilst our hands sat on the other’s thigh, this had once been a dream to me too.

But the one about the empty crib and the mysterious girl, no that was almost a nightmare, and I’d had enough of those.

[feistypaants-archived]

Between The Pipes [Chapter 26]

Rating: M Words: 2613 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: smut. just... smutty smutty smut. with a little feeling at the end and a little humor at the beginning.

Enjoy!

“All right big boy, we just have to - yep, one foot…” Kristoff laughed as Sven slurred drunken nonsense into his ear, something about reindeer and facing a winter storm… “Yeah, you would be a good reindeer, buddy.” Taking one glance behind him to make sure Jelissa and Anna were fine - they were making their way up the stairs slowly but surely - he reached down to dig through Sven’s pocket and find his house keys.

“I love you s’much, have I toldja that?” Sven reached up to pat at his cheek as he fumbled with the lock, and Kristoff nodded against his hand.

“Yep, buddy, you have. Every day you tell me.”

“Is it enough?” He gasped then, pulling Kristoff’s head to face him. “Is it too much? Omigod you hate it dontchu, you hate me.”

He heard Anna snort behind him and rolled his eyes. “No, Sven, I don’t hate you. I…” Sighing and resigning himself to the teasing he was sure he would get when they were alone, Kristoff didn’t bother lowering his voice. “I love you very much.” He was grateful when the damn door finally swung open.

Sven then threw his arms around Kristoff, practically sobbing into his shoulder. “Oh thank god.”

Leading him into the house and immediately into the bedroom in the back, Kristoff may or may not have intentionally dropped his friend into the king sized bed. He rubbed at the back of his neck as Jelissa and Anna followed him in, Jelissa immediately kicking her high heels into the corner. “You can handle it from here?”

He moved to gesture to Sven, and found him already sound asleep. “Or, you know, he’ll just sleep like that.”

“Yeah,” Jelissa sighed, flopping facedown onto the comforter beside him. “We’ll probably just sleep like this.”

“Well then I guess my work here is done.” 

Kristoff nodded, a smirk on his lips as Jelissa raised up a dismissive hand before turning to face the doorway. Anna was still there, abnormally quiet as she observed the room before her. He could almost see the gears turning in her head, as if she was still trying to piece together the whole Sven-has-a-fiancée thing. 

“Hey,” he hummed, smiling a little wider as she jumped slightly. “Ready to go home?” Feeling a small flush rise to his cheeks as she nodded and stuck out a hand, begging him to grab it with just a pulse of her fingers, Kristoff stepped closer to her, lacing her fingers with his. Her warmth spread through his veins as they made their way back down to the waiting limousine.

There was no more pretending, no more denial. There was nothing fake left about it. He hadn’t planned for this - for her - but her patience and understanding was more than he deserved and only served to convince him further that she was everything he wanted and needed. 

He locked the door behind them and took the key, certain that there were at least six more keys floating around Sven’s home, before they headed back down to the parked car before apologizing about the wait. He waved them off with a sly smile before closing the door behind them. After a moment of shuffling, the driver dropped down the partition and Kristoff could hear mischief in his voice. “So sorry, Mr. Bjorgman… I believe there is some construction blocking the normal route to Miss Arne’s home… so I will be taking a slightly longer route.”

“That’s…” He glanced over to Anna, a pink tinge on her cheeks. “That’s fine, thank you.”

Then the car started moving and the sound-proof partition was back up and Anna was grinning at him from across the way. “So,” she hummed, shimmying her jacket down her shoulders. “What do you wanna do?”

It only took about forty-five seconds for her to wind up in his lap, straddling him with her knees resting on either side of his hips - and, if he was being totally honest, most of that time had been spent rearranging her skirts around them. The slit in her dress was exposing all of her soft, creamy skin, and Kristoff could practically feel his mouth going dry at her lack of stockings. There was no barrier for him to fight with as he scratched blunt nails up from her knee to the apex of her hip and thigh, and he let out an audible groan as she shifted against him.

“Do you like this dress?” Her mouth was barely an inch away from his as she mumbled, her breath ghosting over his lips. “I thought maybe the slit was too much…” His fingers involuntarily squeezed tighter at her thigh. “But maybe not.”

“Definitely not,” he practically growled as his free hand rose to the back of her head, bringing her lips crashing onto his. He was grateful for her quick response as she nipped at his bottom lip before sliding her tongue against his mouth, begging for entrance. She was fiery tonight as her fingers tangled into his hair and forced him to lean further back for her.

He knew they wouldn’t get exactly where they were desperate to be in the back of this limo, but he would do everything in his power to make sure she was ready and willing. Fingers stretched to pull at the soft swell of her behind, and he felt her let out a quiet moan against him.

Lips were moving slowly and deeply, as if they were both waiting rather impatiently to move forward.

“Kris,” she breathed, biting gently at him again. “I…”

“What, baby?” Kristoff lowered himself to lock onto her throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses against her skin. “Tell me what you want.”

She ground herself down against him and Kristoff could feel his cock growing impossibly harder as her hot center slid over him. He bit at the delicate skin of her throat in response, grinning as she whimpered above him. “What do you want?”

”Wanna be home,” she whined as he kissed down between her breasts. “Want you.”

“Soon, baby.”

He brought his mouth back up to hers, sighing contentedly as she licked into his mouth and continued the dry rocking of her hips against his. He needed to be inside her, was desperate for it… but even if he knew this driver and appreciated how discreet he had always been for Sven, Kristoff didn’t want tonight to be fast and dirty. He wanted the chance to take his time and worship her and make her feel as beautiful as he thought she was.

The car was rolling to a stop, and Kristoff breathed a sigh of relief. “I think —“ She kept kissing him between his words. “We’re here —“

Anna practically leapt off of his lap when there were two sharp knocks against the door. He couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up from his throat at the sight of her, flushed from her forehead to her fingertips, chest heaving as she tried her best to compose herself before they slid out the door. She coughed once - twice - before reaching for her coat and slipping it back over her arms. “Sh-shall we?”

Kristoff moved to leave first, grateful that their driver had enough tact to not just swing the door open, and stepped out into the cool December air, biting his tongue when he realized just how steamed up the windows had become. He helped Anna out of the backseat, closed the door behind her, and slipped their driver a fat tip before following her up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

He barely gave her time to close the door before he was on her again, his hands sliding up the whole of her back as he pushed her coat off of her arms again and scratched against her smooth skin. “Now,” he grumbled, leading her with his body to her tiny bedroom. Before he realized what was happening, she was falling backwards onto the bed, her hands tangled in his suit jacket as she brought him with her. Kristoff braced for impact, but absolutely relished the way her body fit against his as she cupped her hands over his cheeks. 

They weren’t strangers to half-dressed desperate fucking, but Kristoff wanted her bare, wanted to be able to touch every part of her tonight. Things were changing, and he was prepared to change with them. 

A groan of loss was quickly replaced by a soft mewl as he kissed his way down her chest and stomach before he knelt on the ground and swung one of her legs up. Kissed trailed down the pale skin of her thigh, her shin, until he settled on her ankle, kissing the inside before unbuckling her strappy heels. He repeated the actions in reverse on her other leg - shoe off, ankle kiss, and a trail of more all the way up to her mouth again. “Want to get out of that dress?” He sighed against her, smiling when she nodded feverishly, and helped her stand up off of the bed. 

It was an easy enough dress for her to slide out of, and before he was even free of his vest she was naked, flushed and beautiful, waiting patiently for him to meet her. “Jesus,” he sighed, stepping forward to reach out for her, only to be deterred as she giggled and stopped his hands from coming any closer.

“Hurry up. While I’ll wait... I’ll just…” She sat back on the bed, trailing her own fingers deliciously down from her lips to rest between her thighs. “... Get started.”

“Fuck.”

Kristoff thought it was possible that he set a record with how quickly he stripped off his own layers, and soon enough he was in the bed again with her, skin on skin as their thighs tangled together in a desperate grind. She was slick and dripping against his toned muscles and he couldn’t wait a minute longer.

“Please,” he begged, not even minding how whiny he sounded. “I need you.” He wrapped arms around her waist and twisted them so she was laying on top of him. “Like this. Please.”

Anna got the hint and he had never been more grateful as she maneuvered on top of him, propping herself up on his chest as she positioned her wet center over his aching cock. A slow stroke of her hand up his length almost pissed him off until he felt the tip of him teasing at her before she slowly lowered herself onto him. 

She felt so good and it took everything in him not to give in to the urge just to fuck into her with reckless abandon. 

“Move.” 

It wasn’t a request.

She did, slowly at first, little rolls of her hips against him as she took a few moments to readjust to him, but they quickly devolved into more erratic bouncing that echoed the delicious sound of skin on skin through the room. He lifted one hand to her breasts, playing with one pebbled nipple as he admired the motion of the other, moving in time with her thrusts. The other couldn’t decide where it needed to be, moving rapidly from squeezing the soft flesh of her ass to caressing her cheek to tangling in her hair before she irritatedly grabbed his wrist and shoved it between her thighs.

“Touch me,” she begged, her fingers pressing his against her as she encouraged the movement.

He would do whatever she asked of him.

But he needed her closer.

Abandoning the focus on her breasts, Kristoff pressed his fingernails into her hair, urging her to meet him in the middle before pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against her lips. He wanted to tell her everything he was feeling - wanted to make sure she knew how beautiful and amazing she was, and could only hope that his ministrations would convince her of everything he knew.

Soon enough he could feel her clenching, piercing her nails into his chest as her kisses grew sloppier, and he knew she was teetering at the edge.

He wanted to see her come undone. 

“Baby.”

She moaned at the name.

“I wanna see you…” 

She nodded, but he wanted to see her. 

“Look at me.”

Kristoff could see the tremendous effort she put forth to open her eyes, blown out and hazy, before locking them onto his. She was so good, so beautiful, so giving.

“Atta girl.”

She came then, her brows furrowing with the exertion of keeping her eyes locked onto his as he took charge and thrusted into her, fucking her through her climax before he followed suit, burying himself deeper inside as he was drained for all he was worth.

Heavy breaths, a gentle touch of her forehead against his, and a tender kiss eased them out of their passion - but there was an unspoken agreement of refusal to separate as he tucked her under his chin, cuddling closer while he waited for her soft snores to come.

—

The next time he opened his eyes, they had shifted. His cock had slipped out of her, and Anna had her nose pressed against his jaw with her arm wrapped tightly around his neck.

Fuck.

He fell asleep. 

On the rare occasions that she fell asleep right after, he would give her a kiss and hope she didn’t wake up, get dressed and then leave. Because there was a line he wasn’t sure if they should cross - and that line was sleeping over. It punched him in the gut every time he left her, but he couldn’t admit that, so he continued just… leaving afterwards.

But he fell asleep and now it was three in the morning and she looked so comfortable… but…

“Hey,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her wrist. “Anna.”

She mumbled something against his skin but stayed mostly out. “Anna.” More force this time. “I gotta go…”

“No…” Her voice was muffled against him but there was no mistaking it.

“It’s late.”

She moved against him, freeing him from her vice grip around his neck, and shifted back enough to press her face into the pillow instead of his jaw. Kristoff let out a sigh, half relieved and half regretful, before he moved to sit up in the bed.

“You know…” her voice was quiet, barely a whisper in the dark. “You can stay.” As if she maybe wasn’t sure she wanted him to hear.

“Anna…”

Her shoulders shrugged just a little against the blankets. “You don’t have to be anywhere… and it’s already late.” She kept her nose buried in the fluffy pillow. “Just once won’t hurt.” 

He reached down to push some hair off her face, cringing slightly at the feel of dried hairspray. “If I stay once I’m going to keep staying.”

Turning her head to look up at him, he could see a sadness in her eyes. “Then keep staying.”

Kristoff’s heart leapt into his throat when he smiled and nodded, giving up on the protest easily before he threw the covers back over his shoulders and pulled her closer. “Okay.” And then, to break the slight tension, “but at my place next time. Your bed is tiny.”

And, as she cuddled into his embrace, “you’re just a giant.”

“Okay,” he laughed, closing his eyes as she pressed one kiss against his collarbone.

“Glad we agree.”

“Of course,” he sighed softly against her as he settled in for the night. “Whatever you say.”

“That’s right.”

With a chuckle, he pressed one more kiss against her hair before he felt a new kind of deep sleep creeping in at the edge of his vision.

[twilightvolt]

Twilight Thoughts (BEASTARS Episode 6)

SPOILER WARNING AS USUAL.

Episode 6:

- Ok, so first we--someone’s dead again.

....o h .

Of course, everyone’s like “Whelp, gotta dip, carnivores. cya.” and Jack be a sad boi. ;w; man, these guys have it hard.

- Then we get introduced to our next main character from the trailers: Juno!

Imma be honest, i was really iffy about her before this because i was hoping her character isn’t what i think it would be. and i’m sure any Persona 4 players who’re watching this show can get what i’m about to say.

.....I hope she’s not like Rise.

For those of you who haven’t played P4, Rise came off as SUPER clingy to the main protagonist. at least in my opinion. i know some say she’s best girl, but no. not for me. that’s Naoto’s title. lmao

I am praying that Juno doesn’t do the same and become clingy towards Legoshi and like, becomes that character that just feels like a shoehorned love interest because y’know, she’s a wolf too. so far, she seems ok. she was being bullied and Legoshi stepped in and played hero for a moment which was great. but her mentioning she was also in drama and also one of his kind just kinda raised a little red flag for me. i dunno.

Also, shoutout to the way he saved her. like “I’m her older brother.” but then she sees her face and he like “D-damn! We look nothing alike!” i’m sorry, i’m ded. lmao

- I was excited to see what the world outside the school was like. i’m the type who likes taking in all the little things and seeing the town be all bright and bustling was just so nice. then i heard Louis be like “Don’t go to the black market.” and i was like “Wh-....b...black market?” O_o

Oh no, things’re gonna get crazy again, aren’t they?

Y’all don’t just tell people not to go somewhere. that’s cartoon talk for “Go there. That’s where the plot is.” lmao

- So they eatin’, gettin’ that W c D o n a l d ’ s , and i’m like “Huh....I want fries now.” and then a little while after the episode, we come home with fries. and i never outwardly asked. it just happened. and i was like “MY FEELINGS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED.”

And Legoshi’s just sitting there quietly eating like a third wheel and i’m like “Dude, same.” also, Bill acts very much like one of the popular kids at school that i totally used to have to be in the same classes with and i swear i felt a twinge of old school annoyance resurfacing.

Still, it was fun seeing what the town was like. i’m hoping we get to see it much more in the coming episodes.

- And then they get lost (Thanks, Zoozle Maps. XD) and accidentally end up in where? the black market.

And i was thoroughly traumatized.

I was like, “Oh, it’s an old shopkeeper. probably sells weird trinkets or so-” *Shows his fingers. or lack thereof*

U-uhh....w h a t ?

Like, it’s the black market. i expected it to be weird. but like....not this disturbing.

He was just, like, selling off his LIVING body to the carnivores and i was like “Oh god, that’s horrible.” goodness, i signed up for this, huh?

Then i hear the market theme and hear some sick beats and i’m like “dONTCHU THROW SOME JAMS AT ME AT A TIME LIKE THIS I CAN’T VIBE TO THIS nO-”

And then Bill be like:

And suddenly i wanted to beat him upside the head. thankfully, my boi did that for me. lmao

But for real, i was mad, but like....it’s understandable? like, i hate that i understand enough to not be totally angry with him, but like....he’s a tiger. and ngl, after the bunny blood, i did NOT put it past him to react like this. i just wish he weren’t so....B i l l , y’know? the more he’s on screen, the more i wanna smack him, but i still actually kinda like him enough to see where he might go as a character. cuz he’s not a bad guy, he’s just.....an idiot. it’s weird. XD i’m still holding onto my theory that he killed Tem tho.

Just....man, this is heavy.

And then they cut to right after the last episode where Legoshi and Haru finish their heart to heart moment and then they cut back to him running off through the market street not knowing what these feelings are. like, he genuinely likes her and he can’t stop thinking about her.....but at the same time, he’s uncontrollably drooling?....i dunno man, sounds like you’re just hungry. and that concerns me.

Oh, right, right afterward he gets taken in by the panda from the trailers whom i believe is named Gouhin? but yeah, he ties him up in chains and a muzzle and proceeds to interrogate him about his feelings toward the one he thinks he “likes.” and then shows him a wall of pictures. pictures of carnivores just like him that have tasted meat and couldn’t get over it. to the point where they uhh......yeah, let’s just say i was shook by the things he said. like, that could potentially be what happens to Legoshi and honestly, that’s really sad and i don’t want that to happen. i legit felt a chill when i saw some of those photos. no joke.

Then i guess he takes him to the next room and has a little chat with him. what the conversation was about was basically Gouhin telling Legoshi that his “love” isn’t real and he should cut ties with Haru if he wants to not eat her by accident. but in a way where it sounds like he’s telling him off for it cuz Legoshi was like “That’s not true! we’re friends!” and he basically says that Legoshi’s way of thinking is a childish, flawed mindset. like, d a m n . he verbally smacked him. lmao

Then he starts to leave, but not until Gouhin hands him a copy of bunny porn.

“If you get excited over this, then you’re just a young boy with a fetish for small animals. if not, and you stick with your one rabbit, that’s bad.”

Ok, so if he feels something, then he’s just a weirdo. but if he doesn’t, then he’s in danger of eating her and that’s a BIG problem. huh....kind of a lose lose situation here, don’t you think? ._.’

But yeah, Legoshi runs out thinking to himself about how much he hates this and that he wants to forget everything that just happened. and honestly, this is the point where i kinda felt sad enough to cry. cuz this is an innocent kid that wants to stay connected to someone they believe they love, but then reality just hits them REALLY hard. and they just want to cover their ears and stay unaware about what’s really going on.

All this time, he believed the adults just stayed vegetarian cuz that’s probably what he was taught or maybe what he assumed because of how he was taught. but when you think about it, not everyone can repress their true feelings forever. they’re animals. it’s in their nature.

He keeps trying to tell himself that this is okay. that he won’t hurt her anymore than that first night. but....is that true? can that be true? or is this just some twisted sense of “love” that ends in yet another unfortunate death? things seem to be getting more and more frustrating for him and if i didn’t feel some form of sympathy for him i sure as hell am now.

But....i wanna believe he can overcome those feelings and stay close to her. maybe they won’t be able to be a couple. they might just have to stay friends. but anything to let him be happy, y’know?

The episode ends with him finding Aoba the eagle again. he tells him that he just couldn’t go through with eating that guy’s fingers cuz he thought of his herbivore friends which just made him feel icky about it. and yeah, that’s understandable. birb boi is a good boi....who probably just stuck by Bill cuz he wanted to fit in, but y’know.

This causes Legoshi to cry and yeah, i broke after that. i was highkey imagining an alternate ending where he just runs up to him and hugs him crying in a full on bro moment and i kinda wish that happened cuz honestly that would make me cry a river. for real. i would die.

And i guess that’s that. this episode was quite a wake up call for Legoshi at least. but here’s hoping things look up next episode. see you again!

[nox-feratu]

A hungry boy and a caring boy

Carry On Countdown 22nd December- Dance

Hope you will like it. Baz is a softie and Simon is extra wow. Amazing. Word Count: 2775

S i m o n

"I can't believe you brought my to a dance party at my arch nemesis house."

"C'mon, Si, stop being such a drama queen. It's free booze, and you get the chance to dance with all these pretty girls and guys that are too drunk to realize how big of a mess you are."

I look over at Agatha in the front mirror and scoff. Of course she was going to make fun of me and my incapability to flirt, especially after our attempt of a relationship from a few years ago.

"And.. I think we are here." says Penny from the pasager seat, phone in her hand. She assumed the role of co-pilot very seriously, even though she could have simply casted a spell on the car.

The house we park in front of is huge. It's so big, I think I could get lost and starve before finding any kitchen.. thinking of food makes my stomach growl. I need to eat something before drowning myself in that sweet, sweet booze.

I need to stop myself from opening my mouth in awe every five seconds viewing the beautiful scenery Baz's mansion has, such as the private forest or the numerous statues of Greek figures. When Agatha knocks on the door, dark and scary, yet mysterious and intriguing, such as the rest of the land, I do not expect to be in more shock than I was while seeing the house.

"Baz." I say, before being able to stop myself. "You're wearing jeans."

From the doorway, the light reflecting in his hair and making him look like a shiny angel, Baz sneers. There goes the charm. What was I even doing, thinking that... even though he may look like one of those statues, his personality and desire to kill me may be an inconvenience to our friendship. "Surprisingly, I do not own only tuxedos, Snow. Bunce, Wellbelove, I'm glad you made it. I hope you have a good time tonight-"

"Woah woah woah. Stop right there. You invited both of them? And are being.. polite... almost... nice. What are you plotting, Basilton?" I say before I think once again.

He looks at me, his grey eyes fixing themselves onto mine and I am not sure whether  he wants to punch me, roll his eyes or smile. I look at Penny to see what she thinks, but her eyes are shining and a smile is playing on her lips. I scoff. Probably the jeans got to her too. I try to calm my stomach, trying to convince myself the weird feeling is hunger, not jealousy.

"Just. Go inside. Please."

Penny and Agatha follow the pointing hand immediately, but I glare at him on my way inside. He wears a pair of slim, black jeans and a white shirt, not much different from the one wear for school, but seems much softer to touch.. a few of his buttons are opened, and I can't help but stare at his chest.

"What are you doing, Snow?" he asks, his voice soft. Too soft. I snap out of my trace in a second.

"I am watching you." saying this, I go inside and follow Penny's purple hair until I reach a huge kitchen, with a table longer than me two times. It is all filled with alcohol."

"Now that's what I call a party!" shouts Agatha, covering the music which was blazing from dozens of speakers from everywhere.

Surprisingly, it was not the posh, classical music I would have expected from a party held by Baz Pitch, but electro and rock one, that makes my fingers twitch and shoulders move.

"Easy there, Agatha. You are still driving." Penny says, even though she was pouring some strong alcohol in a glass herself.

"To hell I am." shouts Agatha, giggling, and I smile. She never handled her drinks well.

Food. I need to find some food. A lot of familiar faces are  coming to say hi, but all of them are leaving as soon as I salute back. It was always like this, I was just the face you say hi to, but don't care to actually stay for a chat.

The fridge was, as expected, filled with all the wonders in the world. I found myself in face of one of the hardest choices I ever had to make: steak or potato salad.

Before I get the chance to reach my hand towards the salad bowl, the fridge door shuts, only a few centimeters away my fingers, and I feel myself being dragged by a tanned hand in the living room.

Penny's hair is puffy and she is smiling, so I smile too. We were in the middle of an improvised dance floor, sweaty bodies all around us, moving in a crowd of lascivious movements and screaming voices. Penny was not that good of a dancer, and neither was I, but we moved on the music like nothing really mattered. And it really didn't.

I am in my arch nemesis' house, who was looking and acting extremely different and concerningly better than what I know, and I am having fun. Who would have thought this would ever happen to me?

B a z

Seeing Simon Snow do anything was like watching a show. The way he was dancing like a toddler who just learned how to walk, the way his eyes lit up whenever he bent his head towards Bunce so she can tell him something, the way the shirt was barely fitting his chest.. it made me love him so much more than I already did.

But what can't be fixed with alcohol and bad choices is not something worth trying, right? I pour myself another two shots in different glasses and drink them at the same time. I have so much experience that my shirt doesn't get dirty at all.

Without my intention, I remember how he looked at my chest when he came in. For a moment, I swear I saw a blush covering his cheeks, but it might have been the dim lights or the alcohol already fuzzing through my veins. Tonight was maybe my only chance to tell him my feelings, now that the girls managed to bring him to the party. I can't screw it up.

"Hey, Baz." said a loud, yet calming voice next to me. Wellbelove was laying on the wall next to me, a cup in her hand. I wonder if she could even stand up straight. It didn't seem like it. "Why dontchu go talk to him? He wants to but he no say cause he doesn't know yet. "

"Agatha." I am surprised that I even know her name. "You've been here for an hour. How did you manage to get so drunk already?"

She just shrugged, and I rolled my eyes and took her hand. "Come on. We are going to my room so you can catch some sleep."

"But I don't wannaaaa. I wanna partyyyyyy. I haven't even danced yet."

"You'll get to do that later, after you wake up. Now come on."

S i m o n

Baz is taking Agatha upstairs. Baz is taking a drunk Agatha upstairs. Anger starts burning up in the back of my neck, thinking about the two of them and how he might take advantage of her. I cannot believe I thought he seemed more human just an hour ago.

It's not like I have feelings for Agatha, not anymore anyway. I just don't want him to get close to her when she is like this. Or in general. That boy is no good.

And so I leave Penny alone on the dance floor. I ignore her calls for me and make my way up the stairs, three at a time, and I only catch a glimpse of Baz's black hair before they both go in a room on the other end of the hallway.

I don't hesitate before bursting the door wide open. I see Agatha on the bed, fast asleep, and Baz by her side, putting a blanket over her.

"Wh-what is this?" I stutter, and Baz turns his face towards me. His eyes are wide.

"Simon. What are you doing here?"

"What did you just call me?"

This night was one surprise after another. Baz blinked in surprise, then leaned his head a little to the side. "Snow. How else could I have called you?"

That bastard. "Nevermind. What are you doing in here with Agatha? Alone?"

He looked over at her, like he forgot about her existence entirely. "She was drunk and I didn't want any of my persian carpets to be covered in her puke, so I took her upstairs where she can lie down for a bit."

"It's fine Siii" I heard from the bed, and exhaled. She was okay, not asleep. Or drugged. "Just enjoy yourself. And Baz too. He is nice. He covered me."

My eyes dart over to him again. Just like before, he is beautifully painted in the light, this time by the moonshine that was coming through the window. I gulp. "Yeah. I guess he is."

Baz straightened his back, seeming emotionless. I pretend to not notice the blush from his cheeks. "Back to the party then, Snow?"

I look over to Agatha one more time and hear her snoring softly. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

B a z

It was almost midnight, and I don't think I have ever been this drunk in my entire life. The room was bright, too bright, even for me, and everybody morphed into one being, laying on the ground or moving tiredly on the dance floor.

Except him. He was probably the most glamorous, alive being at the party, all laughs and moles and sun and I was drowning myself into him. Because he was so beautiful, and I would give everything I have to be part of that wonderness he carries around himself..

"Hey. Would you like to have a dance?"

I almost said no. Almost. Then I took a better look at the person's face, and almost had a heart attack. Simon Snow was asking me to dance.

Instead of saying no, I say "Thank you", which makes Simon have a little crust between his eyebrows that I instantly want to kiss. I don't. Maybe after the dance, and luckily the confession.

"So... is that a yes or a no?"

He is so confused. I love that. I chuckle, and that seems to scare him, so I laugh, and he smiles. Crowley, I love his smile. "Yes. Yes."

I pick myself up from the leather couch on which I was sitting and extend my hand towards Simon, who takes it hesitantly. I wrap my other hand around his waist to keep our bodies a little apart, and he puts his other hand on my hip too. I don't want to scare him away. It may be my only chance to have him so close, while I still have the courage from the booze in my veins.

"So.. did Penny tell you?" I ask, because I am weak and I have always wondered how it was like to hear him this close.

"Tell me what?"

"Why I invited you here, silly." I chuckled. He is so clueless. And adorable. And beautiful. And he is shining..

"No? She didn't. Why did you?"

Oww. I hoped she did. That was the only reason why he would dance with me.. unless... "I wanted to have a chance to talk to you."

Simon looks puzzled. I want to lay my chin on the top of his head and kiss away the worries. It's okay Simon. I will not hurt you.

"About what?"

"Why did you want me to dance with you?"

The hand that was on my hip pulls at my shirt, and I groan, then cough, hoping he hasn't heard. "You were.. alone. And sad."

"And drunk." I laugh.

"That too." he said, chuckling. I want to hear that until I die.

"You don't usually do this, Snow. Don't notice me."

I may be wrong, but Snow walks a little closer to me, so we are swaying closer on the electro music, my breath on his face. "You don't usually take care of drunk people during parties either, Baz."

"No. I don't. But they are your people."

This time, the common blue eyes that made my heart grow so many years pierce mine, and I swallow. He steps even closer, letting his hand out of mine and lacing both of them around my neck. I hope he doesn't feel the burn.

"What did you want to talk about?"

His voice was barely louder than a whisper, and I suddenly felt hot all over. No, this can't be happening. Not like this. I hug him close to me and let my head in his hair.

It's much softer than I imagined. "I like your hair. It's very soft."

"Thanks?" he says, but it's more of a question. "That's the thing you wanted to tell me?"

I wrap my hands stronger around him. He just leans in. "Why are you not backing away?"

"Why would I?" he asks, and I can tell the question surprises him.

"Because we are enemies?"

His hands grip harder around my neck. "You won't remember any of this. You are so drunk, if I punch you, you'll fall, then fall asleep right there on the ground."

"I always remember you."

We are still moving, but the music is much calmer now. I look over to the laptop that's connected to the speakers, and Penny thumbs up at me. I am so glad Simon has such good friends, that help me to talk to my crush even though I have been an arse to all of them for eight years.

"Baz." Simon says, and I try not to moan. I need to realize that he is actually here. "Do you like this?"

"Yes. With all my heart." I don't even wait a second before telling him, and I'm somehow afraid I might scare him, before he pushes his nose in my neck.

I remain still. If he moves only an inch, I might tell him. I might explode. I might kiss him. "Baz. Do you like me?"

I back away a little so I can look him in the eyes. "Yes, Simon. I do."

He is looking through me, and his brows are furrowed again. Like he is trying to understand something. But then he starts to stare at my face. My eyes. My nose. My cheekbones. My lips.

And then he kisses me. His lips are chapped, yet soft, and he is moving his mouth so eagerly, I might fall. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest, I am sure all Hampshire can hear it, and I can feel Simon's pulse through his shirt, his blood moving so fast it can electrocute me.

When he finally backs away, he licks his lips. It doesn't take a minute before he kisses me again, much softer and, unfortunately, shorter.

"You taste like alcohol."

I laugh at his conclusion. "And you like the steak and potato salad from my fridge."

He smiles. "Touche."

We end up cuddled on the couch, his head on my lap, and he falls asleep almost immediately, just like a cat. When Penny comes to ask me if she can crash at my house for the night, I more than gladly tell her how to get to the room Agatha is sleeping on.

"Hey, Bunce." I say and she stops with her feet above the staircase. "Thank you for bringing Simon with you and Wellbelove tonight."

Penny looks at me, the smile on her face softening her features from the tired, concerned mother to the loving friend in a second. "Thank you for taking care of him." she says, gesturing to the small smile from his face. I cannot stop myself from smiling either. "But if you'll break his heart, I'll break every bone in your body. Twice."

She got back to being a concerned mother again. I smile even wider, and turn my head back to Simon. He crunches his nose, and I awe out loud. "Don't worry. I'll break mine three times before you even get the chance to catch me."

I fall asleep with my head on the backrest of the couch and a fire in  my heart.

[thekrazykeke]

It’s been a long time, guys! Whoo! Normally I try to post every other day, but things have been hectic. Anyway, last time, we ended things on a good note. I want to continue that trend for a bit, of course, things will get difficult, because it’s Erik and his gamer girl, but for now, let’s just see, hmm?

Previously.

@elaindeereads @autumn242 @punkrockwxnnabe @palmsofgranate@strawberrysoftkitten @wikiwakanda @lovemekaycee@managingmischiefdaily @gothambrat @marvel-snatched-my-wigs @youreadthatright @lovelylittlekittn @muse-of-mbaku @keya168

Living with Erik full time, as opposed to just chilling and hanging out? It’s pretty...normal. Statistics and your own personal experience had taught you that rarely any good thing ever happened when a person chose to live with their significant other. 

Yet somehow you and Erik are making it work. 

It helped that he didn’t act brand new because he put a ring on your finger, like he owned you or somethin’. He didn’t expect you to cook dinner every night or to clean up after him; he wasn’t after a Suzy Lee Homemaker type, which is the exact opposite of what you’d grown up being taught, what a ‘woman’s job’ consisted of. 

“You need t’ stop cheatin’.” Your attention is completely focused on the game, the big screen, HD TV making things so much clearer as Boruto fought against your character, Sarada. 

“I ain’t cheating, you is.” Erik muttered, leg bumping into yours. “Who button smashing now?”

Oh mah gah, this nigga so petty, bringing up months old trash talk!!

You roll your eyes extra hard. “Shut up, you know Ion know this character that good!”

He kissed his teeth, eyes never leaving the screen. “Excuses. You bet that you could beat me wit her.” Legit, he stood up, pressing the buttons on the controller extra hard, as if that’s the secret formula for pulling off the right button combination.... “So, what’s up?!”

On screen, Boruto is trouncing Sarada and you sweating bullets. Sarada’s health bar is dangerously close to the red zone and you know he’s about to use Boruto’s ultimate secret technique. Standing up too, eyes darting to his face, but he isn’t looking at you and you kiss at the corner of his mouth. Erik completely loses his concentration, focused on you now, which had been the opening you need and you press a few buttons, pulling off Sarada’s secret technique first--and she wins!

“Ha! And that’s how we do in my house, baby boy~” You crowed with victory and then pull off a Michael Jackson-esque type of victory dance.

Erik watches you for a beat of silence, and then he tossed his controller onto the couch, “You a cheater!”

As he advanced on you, you darted out of reach, avoiding his hands which tried to snag you. “Ion know whatchu talmbout! Don’t be... don’t mad ‘cos you lost!” Letting out a shriek of surprise and laughter, you drop the controller as he ran up on you while you was talking, lifting you up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “O.M.G. Erik, lemme down!”

“Not til you admit the truth!”

Clutching at the bottom of his shirt, desperately trying not to fall even though you knew he wouldn’t drop you, “You play too much! Let me down, forreal, yo booty stank down here.”

He lightly spanked you on the ass, causing you to tense and jolt in surprise. “Always got jokes, dontchu? I’ma keep yo smart aleck self just like this until you tell me what I wanna hear.”

“Fine! I admit it, I did it! I cheated at Naruto, damn! Now let me down, Erik!”

“Aigh’t, now say the other thing.”

You knew exactly what he wanted. “Boy, bye! Stop playin’ and let me down!”

“I wanna hear it, or I’ma drop you.” He pretended to lose his grip a bit.

“Okay, okay, you da champ, the best. The number one gamer, Erik staaahp!”

“That’s what I thought.” Erik lowered you down onto your own two feet. “Witcho scary ass.” And then he pulled you to him, your back to his scarred chest, wrapping his arms around you so that you couldn’t get away.

You mean mugged the shit outta him. “’Least I ain’t a sore loser.”

Just as he opens his mouth about to counter and protest that statement, the door bell rings. “Who dat is?”

You peel his arms from around you, “You so damn hood. That’s not how you answer the door.” As you walked, you spoke in a loud enough voice, “It probably ain’t nobody but Demi with her daily offering of dry as fuck food.” 

Erik is all but dying with laughter behind you, though you hear him pacing so you assume he’s about to clean up the area y’all had been sitting in. Shaking your head, you walk to the front door, entering the code to turn off the alarm system and unlock each latch before twisting the knob and opening the door. 

Nobody’s there, much to your surprise, but there is a package and it’s addressed to you. Curious about who could be sending you mail, but figuring that it’s probably one of your aunts that liked to travel, you bring the parcel into the house, closing and locking the door absently, the security system automatically activating again. Walking to the kitchen, you retrieve a small knife and use it like a makeshift letter opener, cutting the tape and opening the package.

“Bae, T’Challa and my cousin in town, they wanna get dinn...Whatchu got there?”

You glance at him, about to remark that you’re unsure as your hand dips inside, only you cry out when something bit you?! As you go to pull your hand free, suddenly you become woozy and you pass out.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait a minu...Why the fuck...”

Everything’s going out of focus, blurry and distorted. The room becomes gray and then dark...

[psychopathicwriting]

((kay so- lil backstory to this- this girl got this anon saying “ur bi? ur going to hell”- so i pitched in :“3 this is what i had to say at fuqqing 1 am hhh-)) 

OOO OOO IM ALSO BI- CAN I GO TO HELL TOO? :D I CALL THE WHIPPING CHAMBER- AND ALSO MY CORNCHIP SOUL ISNT REALLY WORTH MUCH SO- LIKE DO I GET A LOW PAYING JOB CUS OF IT?? DAMMIT I DONT WANNA SCOOP UP DEMON POOP- H HHHHHH-

SO LIKE BESIDES ME PICKING UP DEMON POOP CUS MY CORNCHIP TRASHY ASS SOUL W I L L N O T DO FOR SATAN CUS HIS GREEDY ASS NEED THAT SPICY DORITOS "FUQQING FUQ CORNCHIPS- THAS SHIT NASTIE-” IS PROLLY HIS REACTIONHHHH R00D ASS HOE- THATS WHY GEEZUS KICKED UR ASS OUTTA HEAVEN- UR HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO LOOKIN ASS PROLLY COULDNT KEEP THEY GRUBY DIRTY ASS LARGE FINGIES OUT OF THE FUQQING CHIP BOWL THINGY- WELL MR,SA-IMMAHUGEBITCH-TAN YOU LISTEN THE FUCK UP- 

JUST CUS MY CORNCHIP SOUL ISNT WORTH MORE THAN LIKE 2 DIMES DONT MEAN U DISCRIMINATE LIKE THAT KAY MR,SA-IMABIGHOEANDILIKEDORITAS-FUCKINGLOOKLIKEADORITOLOOKINGASS-TAN GOT THAT- WHEN U PUT MY ASS IN THE WHIPPING CHAMBER- THEY ASS B E T T E R HAVE SOME VINTAGE ASS- EXPENSIVE ASS WHIPS- KAY?- I DONT WANT THEM CHEAPY DEAPY ROPE WHIPS- THE FUQ U THINK I AMS?? FUCKING CTHULHU TENTACLE BUILT ASS?????? NUH BISH YOU GET THAT SHIT O U T OR ILL FUQQING REPLACE ALL UR DORITOS WITH FUQQING FURITOS GOT ME? 

(she responded with “WHERE ARE U GETTING THIS FROM-”)

I HAVE NO CLUE- IM JUST GOING WITH IT THOUGH- BTW CAN WE GET ON CTHULHU’S ASS FOR A SEC?? LIKE B I T C H WHICH HENTAI YOU ROLECASED FOR??????? GET THEM SHITS OUUTTTAA HHEEEEERREEEEE GO GET THAT POOSI BROTHER- FUQQING OUT HERE THREATENING TO DESTROY OUR FUQQING WORLD- B I T C H DONTCHU GOTTA HENTAI TO PLAY IN?? LIKE B I T C H YOU LOOK LIKE A TENTACLE MONSTER FROM ONE OF THEM JAPANESESFUCKINGGAMES- ANYWAY BACK TO SA-FUCKMYBIGASSBELLY-TAN BUILT ASS- 

AAAHHHH SHIT ITS 1:30 AM RIGHT NOW- CANT FUCKING GET ON SATAN’S DORITO BUILT ASS RN HHHHHHH- ANYWHO IF ANYONE ELSE SAYS SOMESHIT BOUT HELL- R I N G M E U P B O Y O- IM ON THAT SHIT- LIKE I WANTS TO KNOW- HHH ANYWAYS GOODNIGHT AND ILL FUQQING GET ON SATANS ASS L8R- HH 

(she responded with “will do :’)” and i also gotta anon asking how much coffee i had- i had none :“"3 hhhhh anyways enjoy my incoherent ranting~) 

~~~ 

I had to read this four times. I still don't understand.

[dipdyedsilence-blog]

Lolll why do i do this to myself

Hello im finna rant abt my night in an effort to get over it. So. Theres this dude lets call him alejandro. He is mighty. Fine. And one day he decided to put his phone number on my pizza box. I didnt recognize him at the time. This was in mid september. Its december 5 rn btw. Like when he put the number on the box, i hadnt seen his face but i was like. Ehhh lemme entertain the idea. Ok so i texted him right. He was funny and we small talked. Then he kept asking to meet up, and me being the weenie i was, i was hesitant nd would make excuses. So one day he just didnt respond anymore and i was like ok its chill. Bc i thought he just wanted a fuk and im not like that lol (hypocrite). Fast forward like at least 3 weeks later. (So me and my bff here would go get pizza at this place b4 our bio tests. So the first time i went nd got the # was before our 1st bio test. This fast forward is the day b4 the second bio test). So we go in nd get our pizza and we chillin. Btw i completely forgot abt this dude. Nd i didnt even know what he looked like so i didnt expect what came nxt. So i get up to get water and this low sexy ass voice comes up behind me and says my name. And me being dressed so gross look at him and am all confused and shi. He explains who he is and then im like oh fuk he actually hot lmfao lemme actually pay more attention (Shallow ik but it be like that). So im like fuk fuk he fine. He tells me that he lost his phone and so he lost my number or whatever. He is a fuk boy so i didnt trust anything he said to me and i still dont. But he asked for my number again. And i was like sure i got nothing else to do. So we talk and end up meeting up after his shift the next week on a tuesday i think. Its like 11 at night too and we go out. I looked good tbh and he just came from work. He was "nervous" or whatever lol and i still didnt believe him bc i know his type, aka saying anything to get in ur pants. But again, i was just being entertained by him and the idea of him. Bc have i mentioned that he is hot yet? Well yeah. Reason enough to entertain haha. Ok so anywayyy. He is like "i had a few drinks to loosen up a bit bc i am nervous and u r so beautiful" and i was like lol ok ma dood is rlly tryna get somewhere. I met him with no intention of having sex. So like i was just laughing everytime he would be like that. He was like i have a dog and that hooked me in. He was like "we can go to my apartment so you can meet him" and i was like uhh ok hahahhaha just cuz i wanted to see the dog. (Yes im big dumb ik but he seemed chill and i didnt think he would take advantage of me and anyway i know how to fight and wanted to see his dog). we went to the bar he works near cuz he said he wanted more drinks and he had to give some dude something. We were sitting at the bar and all of a sudden he gets a call from someone named "lola" with heart emojis and kissy faces. So im like uhhh tf lols. I make my friend call me and i change her name in my phone to "antonio" with the same emojis. And tell her to call me in 5 min. So when his chick called him he grabbed that hoe and silenced it and put it in his pocket. I ignored it bc i didnt want him to think i was looking. Then she kept calling until he said he needed to take it and he went outside. So when he got back i got my friend to call me. When the "antonio" pulled up on my phoen i turned it around real fast and put my phone away. I didnt know if he saw it but i felt content. (Petty i know). We kept talking like normal, no mention of two names. So we finally got in his car to go see the doggo after an hourish. Side note. So he wanted to fuk me. I could tell very clearly. But i still said no. He asked to kiss me in the car and lemme tell you. This man KNOWS how to fuking kiss. Dam. He asked me and i was like ok then do it. And ugh worst choice of my life bc i literally dream of his kisses. Ok so we drove to his appt. He was tugging on me, pulling me by my jeans belt loops to his actual door step when we got there. Fuking hot af. Dam. And he was just being so sexy the entire night it took so much to be controlled. On the way to drop me off i asked him if he had a gf. And he was like no. And he asked me the same thing and i said no too. Then i said dontchu lie to me. And he was like u either. Then i wAs like im not lying. THEN HE ASKS "WHO IS ANTONIO THEN" and im laughing inside bc im like this bich rlly saw after less than a second of it pulling up on my screen. So i ask "who is lola" then we both just sit there. I couldnt say antonio was a lie bc technically i was talking to a guy named antonio we just werent official. But ok so that was the intro to that whole issue. Later when he was dropping me off...( we stayed in the appt for like 20 min btw, i saw the dog and we brought him with us and he changed bc he smelt like pizza from work) so he parked his car and basically we made out for hours in the trunk of his car. Again. Great . Kisser. And so am i hehe so it was fun. Ok so the next couple of days we hung out doing the same thing for hours and on that thursday we went out out. Aka. I got dressed up and we got drinks. He is older too so he bought me drinks and i got tipsy. He was smoking he hotboxed his car like a stupid when we were parked. The security guards showed up and asked if everything was good and they smelled the goods and i got so scared lol bc i was drunk and there were the goods on school property. But it was all ok thankfully they just asked us to move. So he moved and we didnt go to that spot again. But when he dropped me off he was lying to me. He told me he didnt have a gf but he was still doing gf things with lola. I told him i didnt care as long as he was honest. But he was lying so i got annoyed and left the car. He pulled me to come back in but i didnt let him. I went to austin that weekend so i didnt talk to him then. So i texted him bc i was in a mood and wanted to kiss him bc its addicting and we hang out that next week. Same thing. We park the car. Make out intensley in the back of his car. Get near sex but never there bc i dont trust the dude that much. THEN WEDNESDAY WHEN WE HUNG OUT. WHEN HE DROPPED ME OFF. HE HAD THE AUDACITY TO TELL ME NOT TO CATCH FEELINGS WHICH MADE ME MAD. SO I LEFT. By this time we had talked abt my view on relationships. He knew i didnt want one and that i just liked kissing him. Plus i knew that he had lola nd i am not in the buisness of competing for a relationship i dont even want. I just liked him for sex things, in no way did i want more. Which he knew bc everytime we hung out we would make out yeah, but also talk bout shit. He told me that lola apparently thought they were dating just cuz she assumed so but he nvr asked her out or to be gf Nd bf so he didnt consider them exclusive but he didnt want to tell her upfront bout me to spare her feelings. (Stupid logic. Ik) but imo. He digs his own grave, if he doesnt mind being in that complicated position, imma use him for his good kissing nd buying me things. :). Ok so that wednesday he said that shit to me was halloween btw. That thursday i textd him to hang bc. Well yanno. He told me he was busy but he would let me know.ME BEING A DUMB ASS WAITED FOR HIM. But to no avail. He didnt text me back and i felt like shit. So i made my friends go out with me and i drank nd danced my sadness away. Fast forward a week later. Since he didnt text me that night i was like fuck it im not texting him nd he obvi didnt text me like the lil shit he is. Then a week later i get a mf text. from LOLA. She is like. " hi im alejandros gf and incase u dont belive me here are pics, i just wanna know what u guys did" nd i was like lmfao dafuq. She sent me actual pics of them nd i was like uhhh ok sis this is so randome, i hadnt talked to him for a week by that time nd i thought i wouldnt talk to him again. I texted her back saying sorry nd tat i didnt kniw they were dating dating bc he nvr said that. Had i known they were exclusive i wouldnt have messed with him. I responded nd she blocked me? After she saud it was ok or whatever. I didnt say abything rude so idk y i got blocked but anyway. I figured she blocked me on his phone too just cuz thats what she seemed like she would do. Even tho i wasnt gunna text him lol i didnt feel comfy seeing him again anyway plus he told me he was going to europe soon anyway so i wasnt concerned with talking to him at all. Fast forward a lot more to yesterday. December 4. More than a month after i last talkedto him. I thought he was in europe. I was straight chillin. Got finals this week. I went to the coffee shop i always go to.( Which happens to b right by the pizza place but again i thouggt he was GONE GONE and didnt expect to see him ever again tbhh. He made it sound like he wouldnt come back from europe So i knew what we had was a fling which is what i had wanted. I just wanted it to last longer than 2 weeks which was why i was a lil upsetty when he hadnt answered me that thursday.) So im working with my friend carter and im talking bout our oral final then i see alejandro walk in nd talk to the coffee shops owner who i had known was his friend but alejabdro dont like coffee so i double nvr thought id see him in the coffee shop. I literally panicked bc i hate suprises like this. I literally knew he was there but didnt say shit to him. I kept working with carter and when he walked out ( since i was sitting by the door already) i looked up at my friend but didnt make eye contact with alejandro. But he saw me for sure and he slowed down a bit too but didnt say shit. I was meeting my girl squad at the coffee shop later anyway so to see what happened i suggested we all get pizza and split it before we started working. So we went in and i was nervous as fuking heck so idk why i even suggested going there. But anyway. Lemme give names to the two girls out of squad who are the most relevant for the story. We got amy (who i changed contacts name to antonio. She is my bff here) and claire who is one of my better friends too and had known abt my situation with alejandro but who has never seen him in person like any had. (Amy was with me the night he put the number on the pizza box and the other night i saw him for the first time). Ok soooooo he brought my friends our pizza when it was done but i completely ignored him and didnt make eye contact bc im a lil bich haha. And i was tryna avoid him. He literally was staring at my friends. At me. Bc i was facing away from him (thank god) and everytime id look to the side to claire to talk i saw him there just watching me. I needed to refill my water so i waited till he wasnt leaning against the wall staring until i made a run to the water machine. So i run there fill my water and all of a sudden i hear his deep sexy voice. (Fuk i had missed it lmfao). He is like "i get out at 9 can we talk i want to explain it to you. Me and lola had a big falling out and i want to talk to you abt it" i was like fuk fuk. Amy was there and amy dont like alejandro no more bc she thinks he a cheater so i was scared at what she would do to me if i went bc she is very agaisnt him now. But either way i said yes bc i wanted closure and im adumb bich. So i kinda nodded and walked back to my seat. I had drinken regular milk at the coffee shop earlier and im lactosentolerant lols and since i was already hella nervous i had an awful stomach ache so i decided to go to my room. He literally ran after me and was like "yo can we please hang today like i missed you" (lol right) and i was like yes we can whatever blah blah blah. Amy ran after me to see if i was ok and i was like ya im fine. So i met with him later. He picked me up and we went to the bar and drank some. And smoked some. Then went to his appt. I told him from the begining no sex again. And tbh i thought he stopped talking to me after halloween bc i didnt wanna have sex with him. Even tho that thursday i texted him, i was literally planning on doing it but he didnt text me back. So. Anywayyy we went to his appt he explained his fuk up. We had a freaking great time. And i literally hate it bc he knows what to do to me and its amazing. We were supposed to hang out today too but he never called me. And i would have texted him but my number is still blocked in his phone. Either he is stupid and didnt undo it on accident ( which i think is more likely bc he said he wanted to see me again and how amazing i am and blah blah blah) or maybe he just dont want me anymore lmfao. Either way. I wanted to see him today and im big upset that he is a lil shit bc i want my mf fling and to get attention in that way. So yeah. He is still a great kisser. And he leaves for europe on the 16th and my surgery is on the 18th and i cant kiss no one or have sex for a long ass time after that how so i wanna fuk around while i can yanno. Esp with him. So idk what imma do. Uhm yeah. Also he literally shows up again in my life when im just over it or when im super horny. And idk why tf this happens. It makes me so mad bc its awful timing and im just pulled right back in. At least on the 16th im saying bye forever and thats great. Ok story over if i remember more i will update. :)))))

[sempiternalbreakdawn]

Tagged by @refrigereitor​ and yes I’m always on tumblr bro dontchu worry LOL

Feel free to do this friends! :D

A - age: 21 B - biggest fear: (still) not knowing where i fit in this big, big world C - current time: 7:03PM D - drink you last had: Jasmine Tea E - every day starts with: my never-ending alarms and I’ll be snoozing every one of them... what is life yea? F - favorite song: AT THE MOMENT... ‘Yuri on ICE’ by Mercy by Taro Umebayashi, ‘Mercy’ by Shawn Mendes (i love a lot of songs tbh) G - ghosts, are they real: I guess so?  H - hometown: Indonesia, Jakarta/ Singapore ( It’s complicated alright :< ) I - in love with: aesthetics, the clear sky with clouds, watching anime/shows, fashion, my fave aka Yoi and voltron ;;;;  J - jealous of: people who are so confident in what they do, attractive people, people who looks like they have everything under control, people who are unafraid to take a leap of faith... sigh  K - killed someone: I may write character death fics but not literally, so NOPE.  L - last time you cried: just yesterday in front of my friends bcus I’m emotional af M - middle name: It’s actually my name....? LOL N - number of siblings: 1 O - one wish: to start thinking about myself for once and not for the sake of others......  P - person you last called/texted: ma best friend  Q - questions you’re always asked: "what are you doing?”  R - reasons to smile: Everything under the word of OTP, talking/ hanging out with friends, dancing S - song last sang:  11:11 by Kim Taeyeon T - time you woke up: 9am (because I snoozed from 8am onwards fml) U - underwear color:  black all day everyday :> V - vacation destination: I wanna go to Japan!? And Europe, and Canada, and America.... THERE’S SO MANY! W - worst habit: overthinking -> stress -> emotional wreck  X - x-rays you’ve had: dental and chest x-rays Y - your favorite food: salmon, pizza, cheese, sushi, chicken.... i eat anything that’s nice omg Z - zodiac sign: Gemini 

[vanchlo]

The Firsts / #6, “The First Festivities”

*not my gifs*

---> NEXT BLURB: Coming soon, I hope! Keep an eye on the series masterlist for updates!

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST    

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

and i’m too lazy for italics bc tumblr ignores formatting that i do in Docs so sorry i give up 

WARNINGS: Prepare for some angst and sadness, but don’t worry it’ll be ok c:

WORD COUNT: 8.7k

SONG: Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney (click to listen)

                          sneAAAAAAAKY PEEK!

“Because loving somebody means loving them when they’re okay and when they’re not okay. I knew that’s what I was signing up for when I started loving you, so long ago. I knew that you could be a good person, Harry, and you are. I knew that just because you’re okay one day doesn’t mean that you will be the next day and every day after that,” I tell him, lacing the fingers of my other hand with his limp ones. His unblinking eyes fill with tears and then drain of them, staring ahead and disagreeing with mine. “Please let me help, and come home with me. I’ll stay with you.”

“All I can say is that you make me... you make me into someone I couldn't even imagine. You make me happy, even when you're awful. I would rather be with you - even the you that you seem to think is diminished - than with anyone else in the world.”

― Jojo Moyes, Me Before You

*

The tiny tree drowning in miniature lights and ornaments taunts me as I pour the pale creamer into the steaming mug. Clucking my tongue, I drop a spoon into the beige colored abyss. I begin to stir it in never ending circles as my flats carry me down the hallway. 

“You know, the break room looks more like Christmas than your house,” I jest, turning to close the door behind me. 

“If ‘s such a problem t’ you then why dontcha do sumthin’ ‘bout it?” they remark sarcastically, turning to face me with an eyebrow raised in my direction. A corner of his mouth quirks upwards as I shake my head with a bemused smile. 

“What do you call what I’m doing right now, huh?” I reply, handing the mug of coffee to him. 

“I call it bullyin’ me into submission, Ms. Lawyer,” Harry giggles, bringing the hot mug to his lips. 

“All I can say is that I learned from the best,” I shrug and he shakes his head into his mug. “Ugh, I don’t know how you can drink coffee when it’s so hot. You must have no taste buds left, anymore.” 

His laugh tickles the air as he swallows, moving to set it down on a frosted black coaster beside his keyboard. Smiling, he licks his lips before they part, “Reckon I don’t anymo’ then, maybe that’s why I liked yer poppy seed bread befo’ you told me you’d doused it in icing t’ hide tha fact it was burnt,” Harry chuckles, and I press my smiling lips together. Shaking my head, his giggle nudges at my own lips framed by flamed cheeks. 

“Hush,” I say, turning away and walking towards his sofa where my purple knit blanket has found a new home with my Macbook. 

“And what if I don’t?” he teases, taking hold of my waist and stopping behind me where I feel his breath on my ear. 

“Really?” I ask in a titter, moving my body to face him and his ethereal looking smile. A sight I had gone so long without seeing that I wasn’t sure if it could find its home anymore. 

“Really really,” he grins, dipping to leave kisses along my cheeks. My eyes fall shut with a smile accompanying it, and I enjoy the feeling of his lips along my temple, and then my cheek. It still feels so new, all over again, and I won’t let what came before it shadow it. 

“I think you should get a tree, Harry, it’s Christmas next week, babe.” 

“Then come with me t’ tha tree farm t’night,” he murmurs against my skin, followed by my intake of air when his teeth sink into my ear. Our giggles mingle when he releases it and continues his journey down my neck. 

“Wait, really?” I ask excitedly, pulling away to find his lips falling into a frown. “You’re finally agreeing to go all out with me? The real tree, decorating the tree while cookies bake in the oven and-.” 

“Yes,” he answers hurriedly, his lips considerably closer to mine than they were a second ago. 

“Watching Christmas movies together with a fire in the fireplace, exchanging presents on Christmas morning-.” 

“Yes, Becks. Whatever you’d like, love,” he wheezes with that light once again on his face. My favorite kind of sunshine. “Now, would ya stop talkin’ so I can bloody kiss ya already?” and I nod, soon smiling into his lips that press a long kiss to mine. “Think they’ll even have any good ones left?” he asks a moment later, dragging the tip of his finger along my birthmark with a content smile grazing his lips. 

“I dunno, I guess we’ll see but it’s probably picked over rather well,” I shrug, and he does too with an exhale, pulling me against his chest. 

“Hmm, wonder what kinda Christmas traditions we’ll start t’getha this year, bug.”

+

“Well God, I hope this isn’t going to be a lasting tradition,” I muse, crossing my arms over my chest as I hold back a laugh. Turning my head to look at him, his eyes reluctantly make their way over to me after brushing the stray needles off of his coat that he keeps around for things like this. His “manly man coat” as he calls it, as if this tree really required it. 

“I don’t wanna hear anotha word outta you,” Harry remarks, pointing a finger at me while giving me a dirty look. My lips part and he dips his head at me with raised brows. “You said it was cute when we picked it out, and how many times do you tell me ‘ya get what ya get and ya don’t throw a fit?’ Huh?”

“Okay, but, Harry,” I begin until a laugh overcomes my words and he groans in response. 

“Somebody jus’ had t’ have a bloody tree,” he grunts, walking away and over to the closet under the stairs where he hangs his tattered coat. 

“Hey! I like it, but . . “

“But what?” he sighs, and when I tear my eyes from the tree he’s giving me another annoyed look. 

“But I like big things, you know that,” I tease, meeting him by the kitchen island where I slip my way into his arms. But one of mine wanders down his chest and to the front of his jeans that he slipped on for the outing that greet my fingers with cold fabric. 

“Dontchu try t’ butter me up, woman,” he says with a roll of his eyes until it dissolves into the sound that often coasts from his lips lately. I hate when my mind automatically goes to those few weeks where I yearned to hear it around the firm, but I never did. 

“I’m not, and I’m just kidding. I really do love the tree, I think it’s a perfect size, not too big, not too small,” I tell him in a coo and he nods with slight hesitancy to the action. 

“Yer sure?”

“Yes,” I answer, letting my head fall to his chest after my arms wound around his middle. “I like our first Christmas tree, it’s tiny and cute. I like little things too, they’re just so adorable.” 

“That’s not what you were jus’ sayin,’” he whispers, squeezing my ass and I almost jump. Now, it’s my turn to roll my eyes as I exhale, admiring the four foot Christmas tree. The tallest one we could find at the farm that wasn’t scrawny or sick. 

“Hush, and go and get the lights and ornaments while I start the cookies and dinner.” 

“‘Kay,” Harry hums, leaving a kiss on my forehead. “Missed you . .  missed this.” 

“Missed you,” I smile with melancholy sticking to its edges, leaning into his touch as a long sigh leaves my lips. In the silence, my hand drifts along his back and to the hole that I know mars the red flannel he wears. I’d told him how many times to get rid of it already, but he can’t give it up. “What do you want to do for Christmas day, for a meal?”

“Was actually gonna ask you t’ come t’ me mum’s, she does a Christmas lunch ev’ry year with Gemma and tha kids.” 

“Yeah, that sounds fun. I’ve really missed Harper and Ollie,” I remark, closing my eyes and inhaling his smell dotted with fresh pine. 

“They’ve missed ya too, bug. Harper hasn’t stopped askin’ when ‘m gonna bring Anty Becky over,” he almost wheezes. I don’t stop myself early enough, because it’s too late, and I hear the sadness clinging to his voice. That hellish month wasn’t contained to just us, and I see it in people’s wandering glances at the firm. Maybe even more now that rumor’s gone around that we’ve gotten back together, only fueled by our public friendliness with each other since, and despite the professionalism we both tried to carry. I’d missed his niece and nephew more than I thought I could, his sister, and his mum too, and when those thoughts appeared in my head it all hurt even more. I didn’t know that my heart could squeeze any more pain out after losing him, and in the way that I did. 

Sometimes, the silence feels unsettling still, and I hate that. I hate the hesitance I see in his actions still when he goes to touch me, or the look on his face at dinner with Myles and Jeanie the other night when the waiter berated him to order a drink too. It’d only continued the next day when it was my first time back at his house and the wine cabinet was starkly empty, and so were all of the spots that held my things. Neither of us had brought up me moving back in yet, and sometimes I thought I was ready to . . sometimes. 

“Yer not goin’ t’ Madley Christmas day are you?” he hums, pulling me away from my thoughts, and I welcome it. “Course, if you are that’s okay.”

“No. Um, I’m going the day after, that’s when we always do it. You’re welcome to come, if you’d like.” 

“Hmmm,” he thinks aloud, warmth spreading across my scalp when his closed mouth rests there. “I dunno, Robbie seemed rather pissed tha other day when he stopped by tha firm and saw me, so I can only imagine how yer dad would act.” 

“Harry-,” I start, moving away so I can look at him, but he doesn’t let me. 

“‘s fine, Becks, okay? I don’t blame ‘em. ‘m gonna go and grab tha decorations befo’ it gets too late. I don’t wanna be up all night cookin’ and decoratin’,” he finishes, leaving my arms. I nod silently to myself, arms cold and empty as I watch him walk away, assuring myself it’s okay and I’m okay because he’s coming back. 

Only a few days after getting back together, and I wish things would go back to normal already. I’ve never gotten my wish for normalcy, now have I?

+

“Stop it, I mean it,” Harry attempts, but the firmness in his voice is lacking as a laugh interrupts it. “We both know that ya know all tha words, but I wanna hear ‘em too, ‘kay?”

“Fine, but for the record, you’re no fun.” 

“Reckon we both know that too,” he answers, feeding buttered popcorn between his bubblegum pink lips. My eyes return to the telly where the other Harry and Marv continue their infiltration into Kevin’s house, but he anticipates their plan, and I giggle at the next booby trap he’s set. 

Looking to my Harry, I find him lost in the bowl of popcorn that sits on his lap where he lies beside me in my bed. Clearing my throat loudly, he looks up and over to me, lifting a brow. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, repeating the question I’ve asked too many times today, and I know it. 

“Yes, ‘m fine.” 

“You sure? Because Home Alone is a cinematic masterpiece and if it doesn’t make you happy then there something’s wrong with you,” I joke, tossing a Red Vine onto his lap, missing the popcorn bowl that he’s peering into again while sifting around for a chocolate drizzled one. “I’m just kidding, it’s only a film, but you haven’t been yourself today, Harry, or well, yesterday either. For a few days now. Will you please tell me what’s bothering you . . so I can help?”

“There’s plenty o’ things,” he whispers, and my face creases into a question. 

“What’d you say?” I ask slowly and seriously. 

“I said there’s plenty o’ plain popcorn in here, far too many ‘cuz somebody ate all o’ tha chocolate ones,” he says with a shake of his head, picking up the licorice that soon appears between his teeth. He rips at it until he begins to chew and meets my eyes with a forced smile. 

“You snooze, you lose,” I tease and he offers a laugh in between the licorice as my eyes stray to my artificial Christmas tree. I watch the twinkling lights dance along the window, wishing it felt like Christmas and all of its cheeriness. 

I can’t remember the last time that I had a happy Christmas.

+

What wakes me is a creaking sound, and when I look around, the sun isn’t peeking through the windows and the birds aren’t chirping. The multi-colored lights donning the tree are the only light around me, and they shed some on the section of bed next to me. The sheets absent of Harry. Instead, they hold a half folded page which pulls my eyes to my desk where I can just make out my favorite journal from Harry, opened and with a pen sitting in its middle. 

Sitting up, I turn the light on and grab at the paper, immediately opening it. Little did I know that after reading its secrets, that part of me would feel ashamed for wishing that I’d never read it and just gone back to sleep. Ignorant and blissful. The other side of me reads it quick and fast, feeling my heart climb in speed with every word that my eyes can’t believe. 

Becks, 

I’m sorry, love, but I just can’t do this. I can’t do this to you. I’m not enough for you and I don’t know why I ever thought that I could be. You deserve so much better than me, so fucking much. I’ve been going to the meetings and I think that they help, but I had a drink last night and I wanted to keep going and I did. I stopped myself, but I hate myself for not stopping myself earlier than that. I don’t want to do this to you again, and I won’t. Please don’t try to change my mind, because you can’t. I love you, so so much, Rebecca Ann, and that’s why I have to do this. I have to leave, because I don’t want to keep ruining your life. I’ve been doing that for far too long, years now. I love you more than I could ever make you know and I hope that you can forgive me one day. Call that bloke Max that liked you the one time, he seemed like a catch. I dunno. 

Merry Christmas, 

Harry xoxoxo

Tears had already begun their descent down my cheeks, from the very first words, and they only grew stronger as I went further down the page. I didn’t remember that I was holding it as I tore from the bed and into the hallway, searching for him in every corner. In the flat, through the hallways, on the lift, and in the lobby downstairs. I couldn’t find his face, and the fright grew and grew inside of me until I thought I would explode from it. It followed me through the green lights and threatened to topple over at the red ones. It led my feet to his door and to the spare key I know that he hides under the flowerpot on his porch, and guided me blindly through the empty house. The twinkling lights on the tree greeted it and shrunk in its sight, our tree. Our home. The fright sent me out of there with a new sob and it fed another when I got onto the lift and walked through the dark halls. 

It only began to shrink when the door to the firm opened with ease in my hand, and I was met with the emptiness of its walls. My impatient steps echoed loudly in my ears and I couldn’t care if I tried, not even when they stopped in front of the door bearing his name and the words ‘Managing Partner & Attorney’ below it. The fear grew at the lack of light underneath his door, but it was smacked down when the handle twisted in my grip, and I found him before me. If he heard me, he didn’t show it. If he knew I was coming, he didn’t try hard enough to hide. He didn’t lock the doors behind him of his own firm, unoccupied on a Saturday. He didn’t try hard enough, and that’s all that I cared about. 

“You really think that a lousy note is going to make me stay away a-and stop loving you?” I cry, lingering in his doorway, wanting to surround him with myself but not knowing if he’d let me. His head falls where he stands in front of his window, looking nothing like himself in trainers and a hoodie, his makeshift pajamas. “Harry, y-you had a relapse, it’s okay.” 

“But ‘s not, Becks,” he says in a strained voice, his figure soon shaking with a sob. “‘s not gonna be okay when at Christmas yer dad stares at me with disdain in his eyes knowing what I did t’ you- t’ us, and knowin’ deep down that it could happen again ‘cuz I can’t stop,” he insists, vigor in his voice. “‘s not gonna be okay when it creeps up on me down tha road when we have kids, and I pick up tha bottle ‘cuz ‘m stressed out from late nights with a baby.” 

Gulping, my throat feels dry with the absence of words and the onslaught of tears. The wanting to know what to say stirs the verbs and adjectives within me, but they don’t go anywhere. Then again, neither is he right now and that seems to be the only comfort that I can find in this moment. 

“‘s not okay, Becks. ‘m not okay,” Harry says with languid plaguing his voice, refusing to turn around. 

“But I love you even when you’re not okay,” I insist, my clenched fists shaking despite my attempts to calm them, and yet the only thing that could calm me has run away from me. “I do, and I always will, Harry! That’s why I came back, because I love you and I want to help you. Yes, you hurt me, but I forgive you because I love you. I love you because I forgive you,” I sob, wishing that he would say something - that he’s sorry for leaving and that he’ll try again. I just wish for something to come out of his mouth, because his silence is terrifying me. I don’t know how much more I can take. 

I know that I can’t take a world of mine without him in it, and too many years of yearning for him across a room doesn’t count. I can’t do that again, not any of it. That’s what pulls my feet away from the door and towards him. 

“I’m not leaving you, I’m not going anywhere no matter how hard you try to get rid of me. I’m going to stay and help you, please just let me,” I beg, curling my fingers around his forearm, watching a tear collect at the point of his nose. “Can we please just go home and go back to bed? I want to spend Christmas with my best friend this week, even if things aren’t okay.”

“‘m broken, Becks. ‘m a mess, how could you love me still?” he asks quietly, lifting his eyes to peer out onto the sleeping town where only the lights are awake. Lights strewn on trees in the park and alive on the buildings. “I thought ‘d feel okay when we got back t’getha, and I did . . but then I didn’t. I dunno what happened . . what’s happenin’ t’ me. How can you love somebody like that?”

“Because loving somebody means loving them when they’re okay and when they’re not okay. I knew that’s what I was signing up for when I started loving you, so long ago. I knew that you could be a good person, Harry, and you are. I knew that just because you’re okay one day doesn’t mean that you will be the next day and every day after that,” I tell him, lacing the fingers of my other hand with his limp ones. His unblinking eyes fill with tears and then drain of them, staring ahead and disagreeing with mine. “Please let me help, and come home with me. I’ll stay with you, I’ll stay over and make sure-.” 

“Make sure that I don’t have a drink?” he says in a tone that I don’t like. Squeezing his hand doesn’t help, it doesn’t spur life into him or send encouragement to him. “Ya can’t be there ev’ry moment o’ ev’ry day makin’ sure that I don’t drink, Becks, and I don’t want you t’. You deserve such a betta life than what I can give you,” he continues, meeting my eyes for the first time since I stepped into the room. Now, I wish that he hadn’t, because I see it before I stop myself. I see the answer in his eyes, the one that’s probably been there all along and the one that I couldn’t take away. The one that I can’t take away. 

It stays there in front of my eyes, when he walks out of the room and when I fall back into my bed with defeat and my eyes stinging with the arrival of new tears. It stays there as I stare at the tree from under my sheets, and when I unplug it and shove it in the closet. It remains as I toss and turn under the sheets, and when I wake with his smell on the pillowcase, lulling me into a nonexistence that stays until I remember. I wish that I hadn’t.

+

He didn’t answer. His texts or his calls. His doorbell. His emails. He wasn’t there at work, at the team meeting, or at the pre-trial for our client. I was afraid to ask at first, but then I was texting his mum and his sister before I knew it, asking if they’d heard from him. I asked Myles, Rory, and Rose, and they didn’t know either. Nobody did. 

I absently continued to work on our case, despite the worry that climbed in my gut, not knowing where he was or if he was okay. It all hurt too much and suddenly, I hated him again for hurting me like this. The pain only came harder when I thought about how he thought he was saving me from the pain when he was only inflicting it more. 

Wiping a stubborn tear from my cheek, I exhale shakily and close the folder in front of me filled with his handwriting. I gulp and return to Docs on my Macbook, and stare at the blinking cursor, unsure of what to do. He always knew what to do in these lost moments. The next best step for a case, who to interview, where the best place is to find evidence, who to nudge at the courthouse for information, and how to make me feel better. My shoulders sag and I feel the wall inside of me begin to crumble. 

Knock knock!

Whipping my head towards the door, I see a glimpse of him until I blink a tear away and he runs away. Again. 

“Hey,” Myles says softly, hovering in my doorway, unable to meet my eyes. “Is it a bad time? I can come back later.” 

“No no, it’s okay . . Have you heard from him?” 

“Yeah,” he begins, but his voice doesn’t fill with happiness or drench me with relief. The way that his eyes are strangers to mine don’t wick the tears away. “He’s okay, Becky, but he wants to be left alone. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you and that he’s sorry, but he needs some time to himself. He’ll contact you when . . when he’s ready . . I’m sorry, love,” he finishes, at last meeting my eyes, if only for a moment. “Please, let me know if you need anything, anything at all. And, I’ve asked Rory to take over this case, since he’s the only one free at the mo’. So, go home and take it easy, okay? Take care of yourself, and have a merry Christmas.” 

I see it. The way that he corrects himself too late, knowing what he just said by habit. He can’t take it back now, the habitual ‘Merry Christmas,’ and I can’t withdraw the pain that slaps me in the face and leaves me looking at the floor. That’s all that I wanted, a merry Christmas, and he stole away every chance of that. A small ‘thanks’ greets the air around me before his leaving footfall, and I watch the tears fall onto my desk. Onto the keys of my Macbook that he got for me, a purple case and all, and the desk that he picked just for me. There are small puddles littering its surface by the time I pull myself away from it and start my way home, sure a happy Christmas’ doesn’t exist.

+

“You’re sure it’s okay if I go?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You’re not fine, Ree,” Skye insists with a sigh filled with sorrow. Even the tips of her fingertips against my forehead leave trails of it along my skin. 

“Maybe if I say it enough times, I will be.” 

“Oh, Ree,” she exhales with honey coating her words, and I hate it. 

I hate all of this. Lying in bed like a pathetic mope on Christmas Eve, even denying Robbie to meet his new girlfriend, and Dad to come home early. I told the both of them that I was sick, and although it didn’t feel far off, the guilt ate at me. It was surpassed by the fear and anguish at the prospect of telling them the truth, and how it eradicated the balance that had been restored to my life within the last week. Once again, it had been chucked into the bin, and I didn’t know what to do, or how to do anything. I didn’t know how to be okay again, and somehow, this time hurt worse than when he would get plastered and yell at me. Somehow, him leaving willingly and in the right mind was far worse. 

“I won’t be gone all night . . Ring me if ya need me, alright? I love you, Ree. I wish that there was more I could do,” she exhales, leaving with an awkward kiss to my temple, and then she’s gone. 

An emptiness sings throughout the flat and I watch the twinkling of a star long off in the distance. I wish that I could be there, far and away from all of this, like the Grinch separated from the Whos. But, that’s not what I want and I know that. I just want him, a happy Christmas with him.

+

A creaking awakes me and I sigh, rubbing the back of my hand against my eyes while licking my lips, “I’m fine, Skye, go away. I’m trying to sleep,” I groan with a yawn breaking through my words. Groaning, I shuffle my legs under the covers until I find a good spot again. 

The bed dips underneath me and my annoyed moan follows suit, especially when somebody slips under the covers behind me. Mutterings escape my lips and I yank the covers higher, rejecting their arms that come around me, until I freeze. My eyes fly open and I inhale again, and again. The scratchy feeling against my cheek does it, and I spin around, knocking heads with the person. Him. 

“Ouch!” he exclaims, holding his forehead. A laugh unfolds on his lips as his breath wafts over me, and all of a sudden, he’s real. He’s here and I’m okay. “You okay, love? Ya really hit yer noggin’ hard with mine,” he continues, wheezing between his words. 

“Becks?” he asks and I nod emphatically, and then, I begin to sob suddenly. “Oh, honeybug, c’mere.” 

“Harry,” I sigh shakily into his neck when he surrounds me with his arms, and I find his holey flannel with my hands. 

“‘m so sorry, Becks, ‘m so fookin’ sorry. I thought I could do it without you, but I can’t, baby, I can’t. Please, don’t let me do it without you. Don’t ever lemme leave you again, I was such a bloody idiot. ‘m so sorry, I ruined our first Christmas t’getha, baby,” he rushes from above me, worry sewn into his voice until his tears make their arrival. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s not ruined, just please never leave me again. I can’t- I can’t do any of this without you either, none of it. I can help. I’ll go with to the meetings, if you want Just, tell me what I need to do to help and I will. I just want to help you, Harry, I love you so much,” I confess impatiently, finding warmth in his stubbly neck and his scent that I’ve missed almost as much as him. 

“All I need ‘s t’ be with you, promise. I love you, baby, I love you, I love you, I love you. Ev’rythin’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna be okay, ‘m gonna be okay, and yer gonna be okay,” he coos to me, sponging kisses along my head and forehead until he’s brought my eyes forward and to him. A small smile curves his lips upwards and he touches his finger to my nose. “Can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. I got on a flight, can’t even rememba where. I jus’ had t’ get away from here, but I knew I did tha wrong thing not long afta, and it was a mess tryin’ t’ get back with layovers and all that shit with Christmas.” I nod, watching him lace his hand with mine and give it a squeeze. 

“I’m just glad you’re back and that you’re okay.” 

“Me too, sweetheart,” he echos, dipping to kiss me on the lips. Pulling away, his eyes leave mine, and I turn to follow his to the window behind me. “Looks like I made it in time, 12:05 . . Merry Christmas, Becks,” he hums when I look back to him and the words soon meet the air in my voice, too. 

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” I sigh, laying my head against his chest. He moves to lie on his back and his arms stay surrounding me while his lips find the crown of my head. 

“Sleep, baby, ‘m not goin’ anywhere, not ever again. I know we both need it . . We’ll do presents in tha mornin’ at mine, ‘kay? And finish our Home Alone marathon and cookie decoratin’ too. Promise, promise ‘m never leavin’ you ‘gain, sweet girl.” 

“Okay,” I reply sleepily, feeling myself relax when his fingers start to dance through my hair.

+

“Becks.” 

I hear my name and then feel the kiss that follows it, and the next one. A loud raspberry on my cheek eliminates any chance of falling back to sleep. What sounds obnoxious and loud fills a laugh that graces my ears, and yet, I couldn’t want to wake up to something more than that exact sound. 

“Harry,” I say, joining with his laughter that grows as more raspberries cover my face. “Stop it,” I groan, but I don’t mean it and I think he knows it, because he continues. At last, he stops and I’m left staring up at the man of my dreams, unshaven and with the cutest of bedheads. 

“Merry Christmas, bug,” he coos with a contagious happiness to his lips that spreads to mine when I kiss him. 

“Hey, at least these aren’t burnt,” he remarks as I sit down next to him and try to hide a smile. “Dontchu even gimme that look, ‘m doin’ this fer you, and I swear if you bloody tell anybody.” 

“What? I didn’t say anything,” I giggle and he rolls his eyes as he bites off the snowman’s head from his sugar cookie. “By the way, you’re going to ruin your appetite.” 

“Such a mum you are already,” he sighs, holding the rest of the cookie between his teeth as he sits up on his knees to reach under the tree. “Pickin’ out me clothes fer me and tellin’ me I can’t have cookies befo’ our meal. Tsk tsk,” he groans dramatically as he picks up a giftbag with holiday greetings scrawled on its outside. 

I laugh and watch him set it in front of me, and it only makes me wonder how he pulled this all off. I had had my presents for him wrapped and under the tree for a few days now, before everything went to shit, but somehow under the tree has grown fuller since then. I haven’t dared to ask or even make a joke about it, because I just want to enjoy this, even in all of its silliness and sadness. Even when my smile dims at the memory of waking up to that note and how it flipped my world upside down when I thought he had just placed it rightside up. 

“Hey, ‘m kiddin’ ‘round. Tha pj’s are cozy, and tha cookies are delicious. ‘m sure yer breakfast cookin’ in tha oven will be too,” Harry hums with a strong smile, squeezing my arm. I nod and watch as he looks away to answer a text, having told me that he gave his family a fright too and now they won’t stop bugging him. “C’mere, you, time t’ open yer first present,” he says and he surprises me by lifting me up to place on his lap. Giggles erupt into the air when his fingertips caress my sides and his stubbly lips pepper kisses along my neck. 

I wish I could freeze this moment and stay in it forever.

+

The next few days passed and they were rather normal and that’s all that I could ask for. An unsettling awkwardness passed after a few minutes of being at my dad’s house, and at Harry’s mum’s. Harper and Robbie were to thank for that, whether it was Robbie showing Harry his new guitar or Harper clinging to my leg the second I walked in the door and refusing to ever let me leave. 

Sitting on Harry’s sofa under the glow of the Christmas lights now, I heave a sigh remembering the last few days and how wonderfully ordinary they were. Even with the A.A. meeting over Zoom that we worked in and the way our families went to lengths to leave alcohol out of their glasses and out of the conversation. 

“What took you so long? I want to start the movie before we get too tired,” I moan, falling to lie on my stomach as I peer up at him taking the stairs two at a time. 

“Sorry, I had one mo’ thing t’ wrap,” Harry answers, padding across the wooden floor to me where I wait with rosy cheeks. His own soon dimple with a smile when he falls onto the sofa next to me, once again lifting me onto his lap. He breathes in loudly and then yawns before nuzzling his cheek against mine, brushing his fingers against my side. “Open it,” he says, placing a small box in my hands. 

I oblige and begin to tear the red wrapping paper away from the dainty box until I’m looking at a black matte box with a lid. “Harry,” I say warily, turning to look at him behind me. His smile stays and he nods towards the box. 

“‘s not that, promise. Jus’ open it and you’ll see,” he insists, sponging a peck to my temple. “I know we’re both not ready yet,” he comments and I inhale slowly as I lift the top off to find a shining, silver ring waiting for me. 

“Harry, is this . . ,” I try to say, but my emotions get the best of me as I turn around to face him and his reddening cheeks. 

“‘s a promise ring, a knot ring, they call it . . . It symbolizes a knot that’s not tied quite yet, but I have ev’ry intention of tyin’ it one day, when we’re both ready. This ‘s a promise I swear t’ ya I won’t ever break,” he explains, and his widening smile grows blurry from the happy tears that fill my eyes. “I hope those are happy tears, love . . I love you, Becks, so much and ‘m so sorry for what ‘ve put you thru’ lately. I know that I can’t do life without you in mine, and ‘m done tryin’ to be too strong or noble- or whatever. ‘ve known for awhile that I wanted you in my life fer always . . make you Mrs. Styles one day and have loads o’ babies t’getha . . Will you wear it, bug?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” I answer, swiping at the tears on my cheeks. A nervously happy laugh coats his lips as he lifts the dainty ring from its place and takes my left hand in his. “Wow, you’re really good at this,” I joke and he nods laughing while sliding it onto my ring finger, punctuating it with a kiss. 

“Thanks, hope so.” 

“And what do we tell people when they ask why I have this on my ring finger?” I ask him, watching him close the box and set aside before winding his arms around me. 

“That ‘s a promise ring, ‘course,” he tells me, pressing a kiss below my eye. His smell surrounds me when his forehead comes to rest against mine. I lean against him and glance down to my hand, holding it out in front of me to admire it. “Does it fit alright? I tried t’ rememba what size you are, but we can get it adjusted. I hafta say it looks perfect on you, ‘s just a shame it came in tha mail late.” 

“It’s perfect, Harry,” I answer, not knowing if there are any other words that could do it justice. “God, you have to stop one-upping me on presents all of the time,” I titter and his loud chuckle echoes mine as I relax against him, staring at the ring. 

“Hmm, not sure I could do betta than this next year,” he says, and we both hear it in there. The way he said it with nervousness wicking his words away that maybe next year will follow this tradition with another ring. 

“There’s no need to. This Christmas was so great, Harry.” 

“But it wasn’t perfect, and ‘m sorry fer that,” he comments sadly from above me where he hooks his chin over the top of my head. 

“It was, just getting to spend it with you made it so.” 

“I really dunno what ‘d do without you, bug,” Harry confesses softly as the fireplace crackles away beneath the tv that waits for us. The scratchy feeling of his stubble leaves my head, and when I glance up I find his eyes glassy with tears. “‘ll be makin’ it up t’ you fer tha rest o’ me life that I ever tried t’ test that.” 

“It’s okay, I forgive you . . because I love you,” I tell him, my thumb greeting his warm skin slick from his lingering sadness. 

“I love you mo’.” 

“I love you most,” I say, completing our special saying, something I can’t remember saying since before all of this shit started. 

“I love you mostest,” he follows up, and my jaw soon hangs as I stare at him in disbelief before our lips dissolve into a laugh. 

“Harry!” I shriek when his lips soon cover my face in kisses, and his fingers litter tickles along my body. I lie there in his arms, savoring the sound of our laughs mixing together, hoping that it will always be like this. 

I hope that it will always be this easy to love him. 

My buzzing phone brings me back to the present. I find the strength to pull away from Harry and locate my phone in the folds of blankets. A text lights up my home screen once I locate it, and my lips soon fly higher. 

“Hey,” I say slowly, turning my eyes to Harry to find him tracing the ring on my finger. He looks up with a question quirking his brows and my heart squeezes at the sight of him. How can a grown man be so adorable? “Is it okay if we push the movie off until tomorrow?”

“Sure, why d’ya ask?”

“You wanna go to a Christmas party with me?” 

“A Christmas party? On December 28th?” he almost laughs, his greens twinkling underneath his knitted brows. 

“Yeah, it’s- oh, nevermind actually,” I say, embarrassment whisking my eyes away from him and to my lap. God, how can I be so stupid to even ask? 

“Hey, what’s tha matter, bug? I don’t mind goin’, and I might actually wanna if you tell me who’s throwin’ it.” 

“No, it’s okay. I changed my mind, I don’t want to go anymore. Don’t worry, please,” I insist, a nervous laugh marking my words. His fingers had stilled on mine and I take the chance to adjust the piece of jewelry on my finger. “Wow, it’s so pretty and shiny.” 

“Becks, don’t change tha subject,” Harry almost sighs, taking my hand in is and hiding the ring away from sight. “Then let’s go and show off that ring o’ yers, at this party.” 

I remain quiet, growing chilly at the silence that seeps into our conversation and we both know it. The difficulty of saying it steals the words away from me and the gap between us grows larger with every second. 

“Rebecca Ann,” he says with impatience spilling over in his voice. His palm is a welcomed warmth against my cheek with its cradle. “What aren’t you tellin’ me? Y’know you can tell me anythin’ in tha entire world . . ‘s always been that way b’tween us.” 

“I don’t think it would be a good idea, Harry, it’s a party. They . . “

“Oh,” he says, the realization heavy in his tone. 

“I don’t mean it like-,” I begin, finding the nervous sadness in his green eyes that try to stray, but they don’t go far. 

“I know you didn’t mean it like that, Becks,” he remarks with a curve to his lips, leaving a kiss on my forehead. “Thanks fer lookin’ out fer me, bug, but I feel okay. I think I can be ‘round alcohol without losin’ it right now, so why don’t we give that party a shot, huh?”

“Really?” I ask, perking up in my seat beside him. He nods with a happy sound tumbling off his lips. 

“But, first, you hafta tell me whose party this ‘s. ‘m dyin’ t’ find out.”

+

“Bloody hell, I dunno ‘bout this, Becks. Reckon ‘m too old fer shit like this.” 

“Hush, believe it or not, there are people here older than you, Harry,” I tease him, chuckling at the way his jaw hangs loose from his face in disbelief. On my tippy toes, I press my lips to his cheek and pull him forward. 

“Wait, so what ‘s this ‘gain? I don’t understand.” 

“It’s a Christmas party . . for my cohort,” I tell him, leading him through the throngs of people filling the large apartment. Many mingle in groups with drinks in hand, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the sparkling grape juice and sodas claiming the counter, instead of only beers and Whiteclaws. 

“Oh yeah, reckon ‘s been a year since ya graduated. God, already?”

“I know, right?” I say, squeezing his hand when I see that proud glint in his eye. The twinkling Christmas lights donning the space catch my eye as well as the ugly sweater memo that I’m glad I didn’t miss. “Wait, is that- No way, Becky!” 

A shock of red curls turns around to face me, and their face explodes with happiness. Before I know it, they’re crossing the small space and I’m swallowed by their arms in a hug. 

“Hi to you too, Rube,” I laugh into her hair that smells of cherries, just like the last time. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?!” she exclaims after she finally lets me free. 

“Si and I wanted to surprise you.” 

“Well, you did a good job of that,” she comments, and within seconds, I’m forgotten. “Oooo, who’s this?” she teases to me, bumping her shoulder against mine. “Wait, is this-?” Ruby cuts herself off short as realization dawns on her face as her eyes stay pointed on Harry who glances around the room mindlessly. 

“Ruby, this is my boyfriend, Harry. And, Harry, this is my best friend from uni, Ruby Tucker,” I say, suddenly remembering all of the times I wanted to do this, and most important of all, that day in the lecture hall. 

Looking to my side, I watch as Harry comes back to us and his eyes wander to Ruby whose infectious smile affects his own. The dimples soon fall and his eyes come to life as he holds out his other hand to her that she takes. 

“Pleasure t’ meet you, Ruby, ‘ve heard good things ‘bout you,” he says warmly. A laugh sputters in my throat when I watch Ruby’s cheeks turn the same shade as her hair. 

“I bet I’ve got you beat for that,” she says, flitting her eyes to me before briefly winking. 

“Oh, ‘s that right? Care t’ tune me in on this, Becks?” he poses to me, lifting an eyebrow as a question waits in his teasing eyes. 

“Becks?” Ruby coos and I shake my head at the both of them. 

“Just that day in the lecture hall when you came to talk to our class.” 

“Ah, makes sense. What, were you lot droolin’ over me too?” he jokes and Ruby’s loud laugh fills the air around us, interrupting the Christmas jingles. 

“No,” I insist, but Ruby disagrees. Soon, I find that my cheeks could give hers a run for their money as they flame with embarrassment. “Fine, I may have gotten a little lost in the moment.” 

“‘m sure that’s all you did,” Harry teases and I shove at his arm, savoring the sound of his laugh. It falls to an end when he caresses my head with his hand and kisses the top of my head. 

“Hell, you two couldn’t be any cuter,” Ruby comments from beside us, and I feel my cheeks fill with warmth. “I’m really happy for you two. Really, I am. I can’t remember ever seeing you this happy, Becky.” Tears prick at my eyes when she squeezes my arm and smiles at me like she’s never done before. “Lemme go and find that guy of ours, I bet he’s the one behind this plan.” 

“I like her,” Harry wheezes next to me, and I find the full smile that sits on his lips when I look. It shines down on me as his finger coasts along my forehead, moving a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I must agree with her, it makes me so happy t’ see how well yer doin’ now. Reckon I only saw a glimpse o’ yer life back then in uni, but yer happier now, I can tell.” 

“Hmm, I can only wonder why,” I giggle and he tries not to. A Mariah Carey song comes on next and the room erupts in loud cheers. My eyes fall to our intertwined hands and my spare that covers his, tracing the familiar curves of his rings. 

“Well, lookie who it is!” somebody almost shouts. I know the voice without even having to look. “Becky and her main man!” 

“Hi, Si,” I smile as he approaches us in a red and green Fair Isle sweater, considerably dominant to Ruby’s grandma looking one. Harry lucked out with a festive knit sweater with several shades of red, but he could make a hospital gown look good. Meanwhile, the next best thing I could find in Harry’s closet was a blue and white number with a cheery snowman on the front. 

“Hey, and Harry it ‘s, correct?” Si says, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. They both shake hands as Harry nods, and then I’m pulled into Si’s strong arms. Laughing, I make a break for it moments later, remembering I hadn’t seen them since graduation, or sometime around then. 

“I knew it, you know,” he says to Ruby beside him, shaking his head with a glow to his face. 

“Me too,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest as she smiles at me, knowingly. 

“You knew what?” I ask them, finding Harry’s hand again with my own. Mysterious laughs float between them and they spur one on mine, but mine fills with nervousness as I trace the knot on my ring finger. 

“That you’d go and work for Harry, again. Duh,” Si says, as if it’s the easiest secret in the world. 

“I bet Si fifty pounds you’d go back.” 

“I bet Rube seventy that you’d be back in three months,” he jests, straight white teeth showing behind his wide smile as laughs overcome the four of us. 

“You guys are so bad!” I chuckle, looking to Harry who just shrugs his shoulders. 

“What? We both shoulda seen it coming, it was a given, Becks.” 

“Becks, huh? I haven’t heard that one before,” Si comments, bringing a tall stein to his lips. He pulls it away and wipes at the creamy yellow liquid left behind on his lips. 

“Ya, um . . I called her by her last name fer awhile-.” 

“And some last names that weren’t mine,” I interrupt, making everybody laugh, even Harry who seems to remember for the first time in awhile. 

“As I was sayin’,” he continues, raising his eyebrows at me. “I got tired o’ Holte, tha name and tha girl.” Cue the laughing. “Anyways, I dunno, nothin’ else seemed right. Not tha classic Becky, ‘cuz ev’rybody who was anybody called her that. She was never called Rebecca, or Becca, but Becks jus’ fit her somehow,” Harry concludes, and for a few moments, it’s like there aren’t twenty people around us. It’s just us, and his neverending green eyes. 

“Looks like that ring fits rather well too,” Si comments, and my eyes go searching before I realize what he’s saying. 

“Si, you idiot, they’d tell you if they were ready,” Ruby scolds him, swatting at his arm. 

“Um, ow!” Si exclaims, shaking his head at her. “Sorry,” he tells us after Ruby gives him a good glare.

“It’s okay, it’s not an engagement ring. Harry got me a promise ring,” I tell them, and yet, I can’t keep my eyes off of Harry whose sunshine beats down on me. 

“That’s so great, Becky, congrats to you two!” 

“I haven’t even met a bloke who’s cute enough for me, and look at you two,” Si exhales, draining the rest of his drink with a sad smile. 

“Don’t be a party pooper,” Ruby remarks, shoving him away from her when he gives her a goofy look. “Anyways, I want to hear about all of your cases together! I can’t believe you got into Styles and Lawson, Becky- Well, I can now, but tell me about it! You two got that massive Lawton and Williams case, how was that?”

“Yeah, we’ve just been dying over here, dragging our feet through dry civil cases at Xavier’s,” Simon says with a roll of his eyes, but flashes me a smile. 

“Oh, yer at Xave’s? If yer lookin’ fer somethin’ new, my partner and I are hirin’ fer a new position, maybe we could fit one o’ you newbies in. We always love havin’ new graduates- well, yer a year old now, but if you’d be up fer it,” Harry announces, and my heart swells at the emotion on the both of their faces. 

“It’s a bloody miracle one of us is dating a bigshot lawyer innit? Any cute guys work at your firm, Harry?” Simon says, and us two girls bust out laughing as he looks around confused. Harry stays silent and Simon remains serious until his lips coated in eggnog spew a laugh and then we’re all laughing. “Just jokin’, mate!” 

They followed us into every next conversation and between our cups of eggnog and plates of cookies. I certainly wouldn’t have thought this time last year after graduating uni and missing the hell out of him that I’d be here. Sitting next to Harry on a sofa with my two best lawyer friends sharing stories as we all died laughing, and with a promise ring on my finger. 

I slowly started to let myself believe that things could be good again. 

[vanchlo]

The Firsts / #2 “The First Time Bringing Him Home”

*not my gif*

---> NEXT BLURB: I hope that I can put it out on October 19th, following the every other week rule, but I’m not sure with my busy schedule. Keep an eye out for updates on the series masterlist!

---> READ BLURB #1

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST          

READ ON WATTPAD

-> SHOULD I CREATE A TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES? IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED, LET ME KNOW! :)

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

italicized words : a flashback.

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 10.7k words (!!!)

SONG:  And I Love Her by The Beatles  (CLICK TO LISTEN)

                          * SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

“A tear collects at the corner of my eye, reminding me that at times like these, I expect to blink and it’ll all be gone. I wait for myself to wake up from the dream, and to have him ripped away from me, just like all of those other times he was. But it doesn’t, because how could my dreams beckon for me when my life was finally better than anything I could dream about?“

“She thinks that there’s one soul out there, just for her. One that will stay by her side forever and that someday, she’ll find it.”

- Kazuya Kujō, GOSICK -ゴシック-

*

“Are you kidding me?” 

Groaning, I drop my purse in the doorway where it falls with a thud, and my quick steps echo down the hallway. “Harry Edward, I swear to God,” I mutter under my breath, narrowing my eyes at his laughing figure at the other end, but the happy sound only grows further and further away. 

“What would you ever do without me?” I ask nobody aloud, coming to a stop in a patch of sunlight dancing through the tall window. Rounding his desk, I find his brown messenger bag that I still smile at every time, and begin to pack his stuff up.

Pulling open a drawer, I find his Macbook charger that I may or may not be stealing for the tenth or twelfth time. After the last of the unwrapped cord comes out, something pink flutters to the marbled floor. Huffing, I shove the charger into his bag and bend down to pick it up, smoothing down the end of my skirt against my bottom. The thought of standing back up comes to my mind, but as a hint of his recent Sage and Citrus candle trickles through the air, I stop at the words I see. 

“Huh,” I sigh, my lips curling into my cheek as the writing on the Post-It clears before my eyes. A certain somebody’s handwriting that I could recognize instantly, but my noggin takes a moment to rouse the reason for this very note. 

I hope your case went well today, Harry, and I’m sure it did because you’re so good at what you do. I just wanted to let you know that I really like working with you, and I’m so glad that I found this job, and more importantly, you. You’re one of my best friends, Harry, so thank you a lot for that. 

Your Becks xxx

The space between my eyebrows softens when the jigsaw pieces click inside my head, but then it’s followed by the smallest of tears in my chest when I notice that my name is smudged. The paper all over has smudge marks, and looks almost crinkled, as if somebody spilled something on it . . or shed tears onto it. 

“Oh, Harry. I hate to think what you did do without me,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over the note I wrote so many years ago, and yet, he still clung onto it. Standing back up, I clear my itchy throat and tuck the note back into the drawer where it sat in the little divider surrounded by coins and pink erasers. 

“Can I help you with sumthin’?” a voice teases from the doorway. I almost jump when I hear it, the sleek wooden drawer closing without a sound. 

“Yeah, you can stop making us late.” 

“What, we’re not gonna be late, Becks.” 

“We will if you don’t stop it with your Minnesota goodbyes,” I quip, draping the cloth strap over my shoulder and stepping forward. 

“Whatever tha hell that means,” he titters with knitted brows, that breathy laugh escaping his lips to grace the air. He closes the distance between us and I feel zings of electricity on my forehead where his lips touch. “Here, gimme. I was jus’ sayin’ me goodbyes t’ My’ t’ make sure we’re all set with bein’ gone t’morrow and Monday, and you as well.” 

“If you say so,” I exhale, letting him take the bag from me. Somehow, it only makes him all the more attractive, clutching onto it across his chest, clad in a teal and black paisley suit with a button up the color of raven feathers beneath. 

“C’mon, brat. Let’s get this show on tha road then,” he complains ever so annoyingly, making me roll my eyes. 

“Hey! Watch it, you’re on thin ice, bud!” I exclaim, whipping around to find him giggling after pinching my ass. 

“Oooo, ‘m so scared!” 

+

“Harry, hurry up already! I don’t want to hit rush hour traffic! What more do you need to bring? It’s only a three-four day trip,” I call up the staircase, my hands slapping against my thighs in impatience. 

“‘m comin’! Would ya chill yer tits, woman? My God,” Harry chuckles, appearing around the corner of the staircase a moment later. Shaking my head, I catch sight of the large box wrapped in floral paper. “Don’t smile now, Becks. Dontchu’ smile, babe.” 

Stifling a giggle, I turn around fast and thread my fingers through the cloth handle, “Dammit, Harry, what do you have in this bag? It weighs a ton.” 

“‘s yer birthday presents, bug.” 

“It is?” I ask excitedly after an intake of air. His steps stop in front of me, but I ignore him and push aside the fabric of the large reusable cloth bag. 

“They’re wrapped, silly. Hey, you were gonna cheat and take a peek, weren’t you?!” Harry exclaims. Looking up slowly, I press my lying lips into a line and shake my head. His own pair rise to pinch his cheeks and now, it’s his turn to shake his head. “Naughty, naughty, Becks. Hmm, maybe I should jus’ leave ‘em here and you can open ‘em when we get back on Monday. Fo’get ‘bout openin’ ‘em up t’morrow mornin’ on yer birthday.” 

“Harry, no!” I almost shout, but his stern look dissolves into a giggle. A spark ignites on my cheek when his thumb brushes along it, hooking his fingers into my hair. 

“Don’t worry, sweets. I can hardly wait t’ give ‘em t’ you, let alone anotha few days,” he winks, and I feel my shoulders relax when I breathe out. “Now, let’s go put this in tha boot, and get goin’. Yer dad’s expectin’ us soon,” he hums, bending forward to sponge a kiss under my eye. I can’t remember when he had started doing that, but I smile at the feeling of his warm lips on my birthmark. 

“Hey, what’d I say earlier?!” I argue a moment later, almost jumping into the air after he pinched my bum. 

“I don’t care. Yer gonna be tha one makin’ us late now, if ya don’t hurry that cute bum o’ yers along.” 

Giggling, I open his glossy, black front door to step onto the front stoop. Humming a tune, Harry helps me to get the heavy bag into the boot of his Rover, fitting it and his large box amongst his suitcase and my own. Things are shoved to the side, including his windshield scraper, a jumper or two, and his bag of workout clothes with his highlighter yellow Nikes spilling out. 

“Becks, I get t’ pick this time!” 

“No, you don’t. I don’t even remember who picked last time, but I got to your phone first. That’s the rule,” I return with a mischievous grin pointed towards him. Huffing, he adjusts himself in the driver’s seat before pulling the seat belt across his chest. 

“Pick sumthin’ good please, and would ya plug me phone in then?”

“Sure, and wait, what do you mean? I always pick good music!” I say, turning to look at him as he presses the button to start the car. 

“I love ‘Dancing Queen’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody,’ babe, but please, can we have sumthin’ different t’day? ‘s a three hour drive, I don’t wanna be listenin’ t’ those songs or bloody ‘Hannah Montana’ tha whole way.” 

“You’re no fun,” I groan, finding the words I had just said feeling heavy in my throat when I see his lock screen. A giggly picture of us from the other night fills it, the first time I’ve seen it. Smiling, I unlock it regrettably, and find his Music Library. 

“Alright, Ms. GPS, where am I goin’ exactly? ‘s been awhile since ‘ve been up this way, y’know,” Harry says, adjusting the air conditioner until it flows softly. 

“Thanks for driving,” I tell him first, squeezing his hand and watching his eyes scan over to me. They instantly fill with the smile that follows on his face. 

“Welcome, babe. Take all tha time ya need with gettin’ back t’ it. But, y’know, ya should start lookin’ fer a new car.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now, Harry-,” I begin in an upset tone, scrolling through one of his playlists. 

“Ya, but I do. I don’t see why you won’t lemme help you pay-.” 

“Harry, I can afford it, I’ll be fine. The settlement money will be enough for a used one,” I disagree, settling on a Haim song just to have something to listen to already. 

I just hope it’ll help me tune out this impending argument. 

“Ya, a shitty used one, Becks. ‘m not gonna let you drive ‘round an unreliable car, I-.” 

“Well, I don’t remember needing to have your permission before I did something,” I retort, setting his phone down above the radio on the little mat, noticing his fingers darting around on the touch screen. 

“That’s not what I said, Becks, y’know that . . Ya don’t ever need me permission t’ do sumthin’, I can’t believe ya’d think that ‘bout me,” Harry sighs, stabbing at the screen one last time before backing away from his closed garage. 

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall against the window, regret pooling inside of me darkly. I try to swallow, but the words I want to say sit there, unsaid. 

“I don’t think that about you, Harry, I-.” 

“Then why fookin’ say that, Becks?” he spits back, harshly switching gears before zooming along as the directions are spoken to him. 

“Because I’m upset and people say things they don’t mean when they’re upset, and I’m tired of-.” 

“Doesn’t fricken ‘scuse what ya said, actin’ like ‘m controllin’ when ‘m not like that. You know ‘m not,” Harry grumbles under his breath, stopping suddenly in front of a changing stoplight. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Ya well, what have you said t’ me befo’, huh? ‘Sorry doesn’t always cut it,’ ‘cuz y’know, it doesn’t mean a whole lot when it gets overused all o’ tha time,” he continues, a bite in his voice. I soon taste blood in my mouth and release my tongue, unaware I was taking out my frustration on it, as well. 

“I don’t want your help buying a car, Harry, why can’t you just accept that already?” I almost explode, wishing I wasn’t, but the words were shoved up and away before I could stop them. 

His sigh is automatic and unavoidable, as is the click of his tongue, “‘Cuz we’ve argued ‘bout this how many times, and ya still won’t tell me why not.” 

“Fine, because I don’t want to take your help- your money. I-It’s just how I was raised, I don’t know. It’d be so embarrassing, Harry . . ,” I trail off, my voice growing small and choked. 

“Oh, Becks,” Harry says in an exhale, lacing his hand with mine and pressing a kiss to it. “Ya don’t hafta be embarrassed, love . . I know that you’d pay me back, and however long it takes ‘s fine.” 

“Thanks, but . . I don’t know. I don’t like ‘talking money’ with you, no offense or anything. It’s just . . weird with you being my boss and signing my checks, like you say. You know how much I make, and I know you pay me a little more than an associate because you like me.” 

“‘m sorry I give you shit ‘bout tha check thing, but y’know that other part’s a bit o’ an understatement,” he wheezes, squeezing my hand in his. Breathing in, I move my head to look at him and watch his eyes turn to me and soften. “It ‘s. I liked you afta a few weeks o’ knowin’ you at tha firm, then I really liked you, and then I loved you.” 

“Harry,” I say with a sigh, looking away and finding our laced hands sitting on his thigh, right where he always places them. 

“What, ya aren’t gonna reciprocate me love?” he giggles, and I remain quiet. “‘s okay, love, ya don’t always hafta.” 

“I love you too, but-,” I start, but cut myself off, just in time. Or, so I think.

“But what?” he asks, his indicator making a ticking noise while he switches lanes. It takes me a few moments to notice the absence of the music. I think that he’s lowered the volume, but then, I gather that he’s turned it off altogether. “Becks, what’re you thinkin’ bout?”

“Bug? Yer scarin’ me, what’s tha matter?” he says, hurrying through his words. My lips are dry when I swipe my tongue over them, but the landscape outside my window is anything but that. It’s green in between the buildings and the hot sun shines high in the sky. 

“I feel like a burden to everybody . . the last few months . . ,” I admit in a small voice, focused on the sensation of him twirling a ring around my finger. An old one I had found in a drawer the other day, from my uni days with Skye. “What are you doing?” I ask hurriedly when I notice he pulls off the road onto the shoulder, and parks. 

“Becks,” Harry says firmly, pressing his thumb into my hand, but it doesn’t wake me up quite yet. “Rebecca Holte, listen to me. No, I need you t’ look at me too,” he continues, cupping the side of my face and pressing on it until I look into his eyes overwhelmed with something. “You are not a burden t’ anybody, let alone t’ me. I love you, Becks, mo’ than I thought I could ever love somebody. Hell, mo’ than ‘ve loved anyone. Yer never a burden t’ me, ‘ve told you this fer years, and I wish you’d believe it, love. I really don’t mind givin’ you lifts t’ work, and I know Skye doesn’t either. How else would I know that you secretly love Miley Cyrus’ music, or ya still jam t’ High School Musical or The Lion King? I love ridin’ t’ work and home with you ev’ry day, I honestly cherish gettin’ that extra time with you. Sure, ya drive me nuts sumtimes with yer odd music tastes, but I love you fer that. I love you for yer stubbornness, even with this bloody car issue, ‘cuz I dunno if we’d be t’getha if it weren’t fer yer stubbornness. I love you fer how good you are with yer money, tha effort you make fer those you love, like spendin’ tha weekend at yer Dad’s fer yer birthday with Robbie. I love you fer yer dedication t’ anythin’ and anybody that you love - throwing Asher a surprise birthday party tha other week, or organizing that baby shower fer Rose next week. Yer amazing, you blow me off me feet ev’ry day with sumthin’ new ya did. You could never be a burden t’ me, yer tha complete opposite, bug. You make tha world spin ‘round fer me, always done that, you have. Ya make me excited t’ get up in tha mornin’, t’ be a lawyer, hell . . t’ be a person, and mo’ importantly, yer boyfriend and best friend. I never wantcha t’ think yer a burden, ‘specially t’ me, ‘cuz that’s tha last thing you are t’ me. I love you mo’ than I could ever begin t’ tell you,” Harry divulges and not for the last time do I feel like The Grinch, because it feels as if my heart has grown another size, or two. 

His warm laugh dances across my head when I fall into his arms and pull him against me for once. 

“Dontchu’ cry on yer birthday weekend now, bug,” he jokes against my temple, his lips making a smacking noise against my flushed skin. 

My favorite song in the world fills my ears as his words from before drunken my mind with their never ending meanings. I never thought I could love somebody this much, either. Sorry, Skye. 

Sniffling, I brush my hand against my itchy nose and peer up. His greens brighter than the grass outside my window peer down at me, softer than can be. 

“I love you too, Harry, so much. I don’t know what more I can say after that,” I croon with happiness plastered across my face. “But, thank you.”

“Ya don’t hafta say anymo’, that’s mo’ than enough fer me, sweets,” he assures me, pressing his lips to mine. “‘m sorry ya didn’t get mo’ settlement money, ya would have if it was me who fought yer case.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay?” I giggle and he nods with those dimples on full display for me. He nibbles at his bottom lip, leaving short white imprints amongst the rosy color. I sometimes still amaze myself at getting to run my fingers through his hair whenever I want to, like now. The clean, citrus smell of his new shampoo wafts over me as he smiles down at me, making me think all of my dreams have come true. Almost all of them. 

“I know, bug, but it was disappointin’, tha settlement.”

“Your friend at Williams and Knox did great, Harry, and you couldn’t have argued it with your connection to me. Nobody at the firm could, seeing as how I work with them,” I explain to him, my thoughts brushing over the redundancy of it all. 

“‘ll tell ya what, I have an ol’ mate who works with cars, and I bet he could knock off a few grand fer me-.” 

“Harry!” I begin to protest, but it’s soon whisked away by the softness of his lips against mine. Our giggles tickle the others, and his hand is cold against my hip when he slides up my shirt. “I don’t want you to-,” I start again after he pulled away, but he dives back in for another kiss. Now, I don’t really care if we happen to be late. 

“Ya gonna stop arguin’?” he wheezes after ending the kiss, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. My lips part and he raises his eyebrows in response, making me nod moments later. “Good. Now, as I was sayin’, he owes me a favor so ‘ll see what I can do ‘bout gettin’ you a new car. Actually, I think a lease would be best fer you.” 

“But, Harry, new cars are too expensive and the insurance as well, and-.” 

“Hush,” he whispers against my lips, soon letting me taste his coconut chapstick for the third time in the last minute. Then again, time has seemingly gone out the window these last few minutes, and I couldn’t care if I tried. “I really do think ‘d be best. Ya, insurance would be higher, but then ya have a new car, guaranteein’ no problems, and if there are, tha dealer place fixes ‘em free o’ charge. Inna few years, ya can buy it, or trade it in and sign another lease.” 

“Okay, Mr. Convincing Lawyer, you do have a few good points,” I at last agree, watching his sixty-watt smile only grow brighter at my surrender. 

“Yer music t’ me ears, y’know that?” 

“Ditto,” I say, smiling up at him.

“Maybe if ya continue t’ be good  and give a li’l less lip at work, ya jus’ might get a raise when it comes t’ yer six month review next week,” he jests with a lift of an eyebrow, a shit-eating grin plastering his lips. “Reckon that’d help with tha car, bug.”

“Is that so, Mr. Styles?”

“Mmmhmm, it ‘s indeed, Ms. Holte,” Harry answers, but I ignore him and choose to get lost in his lips, and the baby curls on the back of his neck. 

+

A Paul McCartney song hums around us, the soft twang of acoustic guitar filling the holes as buildings pass on by. Yawning, I shuffle my feet in front of me and tip my head against the window. The song comes to a gentle end before a Bowie song follows, and I find my thigh warmed by his touch. I lose myself in the lyrics as his thumb leaves circles through my jeans first above my knee, then higher, and higher. Turning away from the window, I peek a look at him to find him biting at his nails while focused on the road. 

“Stop biting your nails,” I whisper, my hand falling onto his and dragging it back towards my knee. It’s difficult, but I hold back the grin begging at my lips when I watch him blink with emphasis. 

“Stop movin’ me hand. Y’know what, it took me tha last ten minutes t’ get that high,” he retorts without moving his eyes from the traffic in front of us. 

“Why are you trying to get so high, huh, Mr. Styles?”

“Yer not helpin’ things by callin’ me that. Y’know how I feel ‘bout you callin’ me it,” Harry sighs, his thumb falling from his lips, and he turns on his indicator. After switching lanes, he reaches into the middle compartment and offers me a stick of gum before shoving a piece into his mouth. 

“And how do you feel about me calling you that?”

“Stop,” he says, turning his head to look me straight in the eyes when a light has turned red. “Playin’ dumb, Becks.” 

I avoid his eyes with a giggle and peer out at the landscape where buildings soon become far and in between, knowing how it gets to him and in a good way. His tsking tickles my ears and I shove his hand away, sure I’ve only made matters worse. The next few songs tick Queen off the list, as well as The Stones, and Simon and Garfunkel before a Beatles song follows. 

“Penny Lane is in my ears, and in my eyes,” the radio sings back to us while Harry cruises at a steady 68 miles per hour. His distracted humming along eggs me on, and without a thought more, I slide my hand across the divider and onto his thigh. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, and when I glance over, he’s blowing bubbles between singing along. “And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen. He likes to keep his fire engine clean . . ,” he nods to the words, and smacks loudly on his gum. I take the chance and slowly lift my hand from the warmth of his leg, and find another spot a little higher up. 

“Yer cheatin’,” is all he says while sitting back further and adjusting his hand on the wheel. 

Huffing, I look away guiltily and try my darnedest to hide the smile blooming on my lips, “I am not.” 

“Yes, you are. Only slidin’, no liftin’, Ms. Holte. Start over, then.” 

“Fine,” I groan, replacing my hand to above his knee where I had begun in the first place. His chuckle irritates me, but when he picks up my hand to press a kiss to, I find it hard not to melt next to him. 

Throughout the next few songs featuring Jagger, Backstreet Boys, and McFly, I don’t get very far. I hardly beat my record when he picks up my hand and places it back at the starting point. 

“Harry!” I exclaim in annoyance, turning to face him. His dimpled cheeks round out with a pink smile. “No fair, I almost won!” 

“Ya, and ya were gettin’ a li’l too close t’ me junk, y’know.” 

“That’s the point of the game, silly!” I argue but it only collapses into a laugh that he reluctantly echoes. “We don’t actually . . touch each other, you know that.” 

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? You did jus’ tha other day!” 

“Stop it!” I whine, crossing my arms over my chest and facing the window once more with hot cheeks. With my face smushed into a line, I find only a few bits of relief when my forehead meets the cool glass of the window, wishing I hadn’t heard those words. “Don’t,” I mutter when he pries at my stubborn arms that coax me back together. 

“Babe, I was jus’ jokin’ with you. It was only an accident, ya don’t still hafta feel bad ‘bout that, Becks,” Harry insists, but the harmless giggle feels anything but that when it interrupts the new Busted song. 

“I would if you’d stop bringing it up! You know that I’m never going to hear the end of it from Skye, and now, you too!” 

“Bug, it was funny. We all agreed it was, ‘s nuthin’ t’ be ashamed of still, I promise you.” 

“Oh, hush,” I say through gritted teeth, shaking off his hand only to hear his depressed sigh. 

His voice grows low, and somehow, I let his hand remain when it graces the round of my knee, “I didn’t mind y’know, ‘s rather flatterin’ actually-.” 

“Would you shut up about it, please? I touched your crotch the other day, I know because I was there, and it was in front of Skye. I almost died from embarrassment when it happened, and if you don’t stop bringing it up, I actually will die from embarrassment and it’ll be all of your fault.” 

“Becks, chill out, babe,” he titters, the emphasis held in his hand that tries to rub the worries away, but I remain pouting. “Stop it with tha poutin’, love, ‘s not lost on me. It was an accident that ‘m sorry I keep givin’ ya grief fer. I like our li’l game, and I know ‘s harmless. Maybe one o’ these times ‘ll make it up t’ you and let ya win.” 

“Stop talking already, you know I hate it when you let me win.” 

“Young lady, ya better stop it with tha whining, cuz yer stuck with me for tha next three-four days, and ya best bet ‘m stealin’ all o’ tha covers,” he gripes, and I at last look at him with my body too. 

“Harry Edward, you will not!” 

“I will too, ‘specially if ya keep on poutin’ ‘bout that thing, ‘s not worth it,” he insists, pulling free one of my hands to lace with his one, and smatter the skin of with kisses. “I jus’ hope ya like what ya felt, but ya should know, ‘s mo’ impressive when ‘s hard.” 

“Harry, would you stop it?!” I shout, yanking my hand away from him and shrinking against the window with a shiver. “You’re gross.” 

“What, like ya haven’t thought ‘bout me dick befo’?” he wheezes with that breathy laugh I’m trying not to love right this moment. Sighing, I close my eyes and try to focus on the song, but it’s becoming too difficult as his words spring a leak in my mind. 

This little ‘game’ of ours had started shy of a few weeks ago, and I can’t even remember why really. One of us had started laying our hands on the other’s thigh and as a joke one night, I think after some drinks, I got a little handsy and tried to see how far I could slide my hand without him noticing. It’s become a competition ever since and harmlessly, given the fact that a few steamy makeout sessions as of late hadn’t progressed to anything besides that. Running across some old photos the other night with Skye when backing up my phone made me realize again just how lucky I’ve gotten with him. The man I never thought I’d be able to love, and here I am, embarrassed because my boyfriend is talking about his dick that may or may not occupy my thoughts at times.

God, if I could tell Past Becky that sometime in the near future sh-we may get to see Harry naked, she wouldn’t believe me, or the fact I probably get to sleep beside him the next few nights with him wearing nothing but shorts. I can’t decide which outweighs the other, the excitement, or the fear of the f- that kind of future. 

+

“No,” I whine, continuing to comb through the contents, despite the fact that I already know that it’s not there. 

“Yer bedroom ‘s cute, y’know. Look at all these posters, I love ‘em. Bloody hell, ‘s that a Scooby Doo stuffie? Powerpuff Girls too?” he giggles from across the hallway, and I hear things being moved around. “Becks?”

“I know I packed it, what the heck?”

“What’s tha matter?” Harry coos, coming up from behind me and circling his arms around my waist. 

“I forgot to pack a razor.” 

Apparently, he finds that very funny, because within seconds he’s laughing, “Why ya frettin’ over a razor, bug? We’re only here three nights.” 

“Because . . I didn’t want my legs to be prickly when we sleep together,” I reveal softly, and that sweet sound of his returns, soon muffled against my hair. 

“I honestly don’t care if yer legs are hairy t’night, or t’morrow, or tha night afta that. I never have, love. But, if it really matters t’ ya, ya can borrow me razor. Lemme find it.” Facing him, I watch as he picks up his small, black toiletries bag and plucks a silver handled razor from it. “Here.” 

“Uh, no thanks. Forget I asked,” I rush, occupying myself by grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste from the bag to set on the counter beside his gray one. 

“What, why ya look scared, Becks? Ya never used a safety razor befo’ or summat?”

“No,” I reveal slowly, untwisting the cap of the white tube, and squeezing a dollop of the blue gel onto my toothbrush. 

“‘s really not that bad, I promise you. I like it better, doesn’t gimme razor burn and goofy bumps, or ingrown hairs as much.” 

“I’m fine, no thanks,” I mumble with the toothbrush in my mouth as I move it around, scrubbing my teeth. 

“Becks, c’mon. Really, ‘s not that bad. Hey, why dontchu’ help me shave t’night, and that way you’ll learn how t’ use it. Reckon ‘s easier t’ use on yer legs, not havin’ all tha contours o’ yer face and jaw t’ nick.” 

“Really?” I ask, placing a hand against the cool countertop, and facing him. “Wait, but I like your stubble and it was just coming back after you had shaved.” 

“I leave the upper lip area and chin, but tha cheeks get patchy, so I shave those. I guess yer gonna hafta put up with tha stache again.” 

“That’s okay, you know I like it. You’d really trust me to shave your face?” I respond, turning on the sink and filling a cup with water. 

He nods, and with an eager smile, fishes out the large tube of shaving gel from his bag. 

“What if I cut you?” I almost whine moments later, with the heavy handle in my hands. 

“Babe, ya won’t, and if ya do, I won’t be mad. Rememba, like I showed you - forty-five degree angle, short strokes, and tha lightest pressure. Rinse every few strokes under tha tap. You’ll be fine,” Harry insists with the emphasis placed in his rising eyebrows. “Promise you that I trust you.” 

“Okay, I’ll try it a few times, but that’s it. If I don’t like it, I don’t want to continue. I don’t want to hurt you, Harry.” 

“Ya won’t, bug. This ‘s how ya learn, anyways. Now, c’mon, give it a go,” he coos, pulling me closer to him by his hands pressed to my hips. 

Exhaling, I lift my hand and leave a gap of air in between the safety razor and his cheek covered in the white foam. Tilting it like he had said to do, I wait for him to open his mouth to pull the skin taut. I go with the grain and pull the razor along with short strokes, listening to his encouragements as his cheeks slowly reappears before my eyes. 

“God, you look like a baby like this. I’ve always wondered what you looked like as a teenager, I want to see more pictures.” 

“Noted, ‘ll hafta have me mum bring some over next time,” he replies  and I nod, being careful when his face slopes with his cheekbones, but I save the jawline for him to do. 

Goodness, Becky, you’re shaving your boyfriend’s face. Sometimes, I still catch myself when I call him that, Harry.

+

“Bloody hell, ‘s yer dad good at cribbage. I thought I had that last game 'til tha end there,” Harry chortles from across the hallway. Nodding to myself, I flick off the bathroom light, and stop in the doorway to find him snuggled under the covers of my childhood bed. Talk about a sight for sore eyes. 

“I told you that I learned from the best,” I reply, closing my door softly and then getting the light. Dashing across the room, I almost jump onto my bed. 

“Come warm me up, bug, ‘m freezin’ with that fan on,” Harry says, his teeth chattering, but I wonder if it’s only for the comical effect. “And then, God, what he said when we brought our suitcases in.” 

“What’d he say again?” I ask, burying myself underneath the plain, gray comforter, and draping the rainbow colored quilt on top. 

“How could ya forget, Becks?” he chuckles from beside me, the sound surrounding me when I place my head on his chest. His laughs continue and grow deeper over the next several seconds whilst I get comfortable under the blankets and his arms find their way around me. “Hey, Dad, where should Harry sleep? Have him sleep with you in yer old bed, I’m not getting any younger y’know, I want some grandkids soon, and Robbie isn’t looking too promisin’.” 

“I can’t believe he said that either, I could have died from embarrassment right then and there,” I comment, my laugh joining his to echo around the room. His chest and belly shake and then squeeze beneath me as I nuzzle my head into the middle of his chest.

Little old me had nearly all of her dreams granted after I kissed this fellow, including getting to feel his toned body any time I want to, or lay my head between his solid pecs. Christ Almighty. 

“Once again, ev’rybody, but us, thinks we’re havin’ sex,” Harry says, his laugh seemingly not going anywhere. My cheeks warm at his words and I wish that I could bury my head deeper into him, but I only feel the lukewarm metal of his cross necklace against my cheek. 

“Hey, that’s not too bad of a deal. We didn’t have to do anything, and people think we are.” 

“You have a silly mind, li’l one. I mean, I don’t care what people think, but I wish our parents would stop askin’ fer grandchildren, seein’ as we’ve only been t’getha four months,” Harry giggles, and I nod, remembering my dad missing vague and going straight to obvious when he said he was traditionally named after his father. His elbow into my side didn’t help his case, either. 

Suddenly, a disturbing thought whisks my laugh away and I don’t find the joke very funny, anymore. 

“Why aren’t you laughin’, hmm? Here, then - it was funny when he hinted he wants a grandson named afta him. Our parents really are obvious, aren’t they?” Harry chirps, and I nod silently, only now noticing the callused tips of his fingers dancing along my arm. “‘m sorry, I overplayed tha joke, didn’t I? ‘s not too funny afta a few goes, ‘s it?”

“No, you’re fine,” I say, but the thoughts kicking up dust in my head don’t feel very fine. No, they don’t make me feel ‘fine’ at all. 

Why is it that she always has to ruin everything, ever since I was little? Even now, with her well out of my life, she’s still there despite the fact she’s not . . here. 

“What ‘s it, Becks? Did I say sumthin’ wrong, love?”

“No, it’s not you, Harry. I don’t know, just overthinking things,” I reveal, letting my hand rest on the curve of his bicep, wishing I could see his tattoos in the dark to trace them. I know that that wouldn’t make them go away, though. 

“Wanna talk ‘bout it, or jus’ go t’ bed?”

“I dunno,” I almost laugh, wishing this was ironic and that it was still funny. But, it’s not. “It’s hard to think about being a mum and mine not being there for it. I know that’s how I’d want it to be, though. It’s just . . hard, knowing how much other mums rely on that and enjoy getting to share the experience with theirs.”

“Oh, love, ‘m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” he pipes up, resting his head against mine, and I welcome the closeness. 

“I know you didn’t, it was just my thoughts stirring up ‘what if’s.” 

“Hey, ‘m sure when ya get t’ know me mum betta and Gemma, that me mum would be happy t’ step in fer that role, and me sister too. I already know with Gem that me mum would be all over my babies, and she’s a wonderful grandmother. I only wish she lived closer, but she’s always joked if I had kids, that that’s what would take her t’ move t’ London,” he says into my hair, and I nod into his smooth skin, my cheek tickled by his chest hair. 

“Gemma must have been annoyed with that,” I titter and he agrees. 

“‘ve thought ‘bout it too, y’know. Me dad‘s ‘round fer Harper and Ollie, but I dunno if ‘d ever want him ‘round my kids. He fooked up things with me, so why would I let him do tha same with me kids? I don’t want them wonderin’ why their granddad doesn’t come t’ their birthday party this time but did tha last, or t’ see us have a row . . It makes me sad, but y’know, ‘m glad we can relate t’ each other on this stuff, whatta load o’ rubbish it all ‘s.” 

“Me too, Harry,” I breathe, tracing the shape of his necklace as his heartbeat thuds in my ear. “I can’t ever see things changing with my mum, but maybe it could with your dad someday . . It’s a good thing we’re not having kids anytime soon, huh?”

“Ya, reckon so, but ‘m already thirty, Becks. Time’s a tickin’ fer me in that father department,” he shares gently, and I wish I could see his eyes and lose myself in them, and maybe drag him along for the ride too. It’s all that I can think of to get rid of the sour remnants of this conversation, one that’s all of my fault. 

“Oh, hush. My dad was thirty-four when he had Robbie and I, so you’ll be fine.” 

“Ya, but I dunno, rather sure ‘d want kids soon afta gettin’ married,” he hums happily, a longing for the future in his voice. Boy, is it contagious. “Prolly within tha year.”

“Okay, would you chill it with the future talk? As you just said, it’s only been four months, Harry,” I laugh, nervously. A similar sound rumbles through his chest as he hugs me in his arms, smattering kisses along my head. 

“Well, maybe four months will turn into forever one day, ya never know, bug,” he says with a lilt in his voice, teasing dripping from it. “C’mon, ya don’t know yet whether or not ya wanna be my Mrs. Styles one day?”

“I can tell what your answer to that question is,” my answer comes out in between apprehensive laughs, my cheeks surely scarlet against his skin. 

“I never reveal me secrets, Becks,” he whispers, as if I don’t know it by now. “So, will ya marry me one day?”

“I’ll have to think about it . . ask again in a few months, weirdo.” 

+

The streams of sunlight tease at my eyes while a sensation tickles my neck. Groaning, I shuffle my legs under the covers but they don’t get very far, knocking against another hairy pair. 

“Wake up,” somebody coos softly into my ear, followed by a stream of gentle kisses down my face. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pull the covers higher, but they don’t budge. “Becks,” they say, dragging out the sound of my name as they rub circles into my stomach. 

I lay there for a little while longer, dipping in and out of sleep, amongst the sound of my name and indiscernible humming. The next time I open them, the sun is beating through the window and the standing fan whirs along. A pair of arms is secure around my waist, and although used to it, I feel somebody’s prickly stubble against my cheek. I smile into the soft kisses pressed along my face and then a last one to my nose. “Wake up, Boops, ‘s yer birthday. ‘s my baby Becks’ birthday t’day,” Harry croons and I feel his cheeks rounding out from a smile against mine. 

“Mmmmm, my twenty-seventh birthday,” I reply, stifling a yawn. They reply with an ‘mmmhmm’ before they hide their face in my neck. “And I get to spend it all with you,” I hum, my thoughts waking me quickly. It’s black and white from my birthday last year, pining away for him as he loved somebody else and ignoring his presents. 

No matter how hard I could try, I wouldn’t be able to remember how long it’s been since I’ve had a birthday as good as this one already is, and undoubtedly will be. 

“‘m so glad I get t’, bug, ‘s ‘bout time,” he yawns from behind me, stirring under the covers. I whine when his leg moves away from mine and takes its warmth with him. “I didn’t imagine ‘d be wakin’ you up in yer childhood bed, but here we are,” he giggles. “Tha first o’ many birthdays spent t’getha, babe.” 

“Yeah,” I reply distractedly, propelled back to this day last year and how robbed I felt of a day that was supposed to be all about me and being happy. That was the last thing I was, it seemed, and it’s like a different life to think about that while Harry kisses the hollow below my ear. My boyfriend, who kicks off a blanket with a groan, a laugh rising from my lips as he complains about being hot.

“‘ve taken off all tha clothes I can and ‘m still bloody boilin.’ God, Becks, could ya be any mo’ o’ a heater, love?” he sighs and I only reply with a loud laugh that grows when his hands roam my body to tickle me. I find his sleepy face painted with a smile when I turn around to face his naked upper half, and it makes me wonder how he could ever be any more perfect than he already is. “What? ‘m sweatin’ over here,” he wheezes, carding a hand through his mess of curls while his eyes shine back at me. 

“Nothing, I just . . “

“You jus’ what, love?” he murmurs, threading his fingers into my hair and stroking it away from my face. 

“I just, really love you,” I confess, watching the contentment blossom on his face to almost embarrassment. 

“I love you too, Rebecca Ann,” Harry beams with that contagious smile again, dipping forward to peck me. “More.” 

“No, I do!” I protest, fingering his gold cross necklace that’s warm in my fingers. “I love you most! There!” 

“Okay, okay,” he titters, batting a hand at me before pulling me into his chest. “‘ll let you have it, but only cuz ‘s yer birthday, my love,” he coos, surrounding me with his arms and covering my head in kisses. 

I silently roll my eyes but I know he hears my huff, “Don’t be a pout on yer birthday, jus’ be happy ‘m lettin’ you get yer way with e’rythin’,” he remarks, muffled against my cheek where his warm breath wafts over me. 

“Everything, you say?” I tease, and his intake of air eggs me on. 

“Oh, what d’ya want now?”

“Hey, it’s my birthday. I get whatever I want on my birthday, isn’t that what I told you on yours?”

“I don’t rememba those exact words, but yes, my girl can have whatever her heart desires on her birthday,” Harry responds softly, his eyelashes leaving butterfly kisses against me. “What ‘s that li’l brain o’ yers cookin’ up now, huh?”

A laugh peeks out from my lips and he groans in response as I ready my proposal, sure he’s falling back asleep in my arms. 

“A baby,” I divulge, and begin to count the seconds after the words have met the air. 1 . . 2 . . 3. 

“‘Scuse me?” Harry exclaims, pulling away from me and looking at me with a wild pair of eyes. I find it so hard to hold it back when his green eyes widen further, accompanied by a sudden pallor to his face. “Rebecca Ann-,” he begins adamantly, but the moment the chuckle pours from my lips, he stops. “Woman, I swear- Jesus Christ, ya really are gonna gimme a heart attack one o’ these days.” 

“The look on your face, Harry! I wish you could’ve seen it,” I giggle profusely, only fed by the crimson appearance of his cheeks as he shakes his head. 

“You li’l smart ass, you,” he tuts, swiftly flipping onto his back and pulling me on top of him. “Y’know, ya kinda hafta be havin’ sex in order t’ have a baby, love, sumthin’ that doesn’t quite exist fer us yet,” Harry remarks with the cutest double chin from below me. I adjust myself lying on top of him so I’m not crushing his lungs, or well, his baby making junk. 

“Not yet, anyways,” I murmur with a smirk, enjoying the squirming he does at my words. He giggles and covers his face with both of his arms, exposing as well as hiding some of his tattoos. 

Propping my chin on my hand, my elbow finds a place on the mattress as my finger finds its way to his chest. I trace the numbers in my handwriting above his heart, so entirely grateful for this year and mostly all that it’s brought along with it. 

“Maybe one day I’ll have a baby with you.” 

I hear his wheezy laugh and the happy sigh, because they live inside of me too. His greens are stuck on me from between his peeking hands when I look over and my smile brightens. 

“If we’re havin’ kids, ‘s gonna be mo’ than one, ‘ll tell ya that right now, missy.” 

Somehow, my lips spread even wider, “How many then, Mr. Styles?” I pose aloud with a raise of my eyebrows at him. 

“Five.” 

“Harry!” I exclaim and he giggles from behind his hands that his eyes peek out from. At last, he drops them and peers across at me, making me believe in the cuteness that is triple chins. “Five children? Five mouths to feed, lunches to pack, activities to put them in, bedrooms, pairs of shoes, car seats, bums to change, new school clothes and well, new everything every year, and five babies for me to push out of my crotch?”

That really gets him going and soon, a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and from his lips, but I really couldn’t be complaining. It sparks one from mine too, and only makes me think of what it would be like to do this with him every morning. One day, with a swaddled baby lying to the side, or on his chest. What have I started now? 

“Yes, five . . Five kids t’ cuddle, make memories with, take on adventures, introduce Harry Potter t’, bake and cook with, watch grow and do great things, have mosey into our bed at night, maybe teach guitar or piano t’ one or two, teach ‘em so many things, and I hope they all have yer eyes and yer laugh . . Can you imagine all that love, Becks?” Harry says, dreaming aloud with an effervescent look in his eye that I’ve only seen a few times before. “Hey, don’t you do that on yer birthday,” he tuts, but I’ve already started and go to sniffle into the crook of his neck. “Did I say sumthin’ wrong? ‘m sorry if ‘s too soon and-.” 

“No, you said everything . . right,” I whisper against his neck, the absence of words letting me feel how it moves with every tick of his pulse. Gulping, I wait for him to answer, but I get it when he begins to hum our song amidst running races up and down my back with his hand. 

“Maybe one day- Wait, no. Not ‘maybe,’ hopefully one day,” Harry coos as I stare into the darkness, but this time I’m not afraid or fleeing. I could never feel anything but safe in his arms, and I know our children would too. “Mmmm, ‘m lovin’ tha cuddlin’, but holy shit, am I warm!” he continues, our skin sticking together as he separates from me between our laughs.

+

After a few trips to the bathroom between us, Harry plops onto the bed and pulls me onto his lap. His lips sponge kisses along my cheek and his arms surround me, almost swallowing me with their span. 

“Well, are ya jus’ gonna stare at ‘em or go and open ‘em, bug?” he coos, the hairs on the back of my neck lifting at his words tickling my neck. Turning my head, my excited eyes connect with his, and he nods. “Go already,” he says, kissing me before I leave his arms. 

“Which one first?” I ask, crossing the bedroom to kneel in front of the line of gifts set before my dresser and our suitcases. 

“Whichever yer li’l heart desires,” he answers. I grab one of the smaller ones and look over to him. “Savin’ tha biggest one fer last, I see.” He folds his hands together, his long arms already turning golden this early in the summer, and so are his legs that his arms drape across. 

Giggling, I stand up and make a few trips to bring the presents to the bed. 

“Openin’ ‘em up here, are we?” Harry asks with dumbfounded astonishment gracing his tired features. 

“Mmmhmm,” is all I say as I settle onto his lap again, and relax when he wraps me up inside of his embrace. Tipping my head to rest on his shoulder, I stare down at the pink and purple flowers that branch across the crisp wrapping paper, and suddenly, it’s like for the second time. 

I’m not going to let it happen again. No, not sitting on the floor with his presents before me, and him so far away, if only a few steps. His chest rises and falls with rhythmic breaths and I remain there, moving my ear until I hear the song his heart plays, needing this to feel all the more real. A tear collects at the corner of my eye, reminding me that at times like these, I expect to blink and it’ll all be gone. I wait for myself to wake up from the dream, and to have him ripped away from me, just like all of those other times he was. 

But it doesn’t. 

I blink and the tear falls, and his lips rest in my hair, waiting for me. His large hand leaves waves and blossoms against my back, and hopes and promises. I make them too, just as silently against him. I promise myself that I’ll never give up on him, and although he doesn’t know, I promise that to him too. 

“Open it up, bug, what’re you waitin’ fer? ‘m dyin’ with anticipation here!” 

Smiling, I lift my head and don’t waste any time finding his lips with my own, just because I can. He moans a sound against mine and holds onto me, and I know that he would never let me go, either.

No, not again. 

“What was that fer?” he breathes half a minute later, staring deep into me. 

“Just ‘cause,” I respond and he only smiles back at me, but then he tips his head to meet mine, resting his forehead on mine. He winks and brushes his nose against mine a few times in a different kind of kiss. 

“I hope I get anotha one o’ those afta ya open yer presents.” 

“We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Styles,” I grin and he amplifies it with a snort, bumping his shoulder against mine to remind me of the present I hold, and his affable impatience.

+

Wrapping paper still litters the floor, so do purple bows, and Amazon boxes. The shadows of our mingled laughs pepper the air as his hair falls through my fingers, and his slow breaths are whispers against my skin. I let my head fall and my hair dance across his skin before my lips do, ever so gently. 

“Sweet dreams, love,” I barely whisper, careful to leave the bed without waking him. At the last second, I turn back and pull the comforter and quilt up his thighs covered in gray shorts, and past his bare shoulders. He’ll need it with his personal heater gone from his side, I think. 

Tip toeing across the room, I take careful steps around the pile of presents still sat by our suitcases. The elation and disbelief comes over me in another wave when I see them one by one, starting with the lilac colored Kitchenaid mixer. 

“Ya need it fer yer bakin’, love. I know tha kneadin’ part o’ recipes ‘s a bore, and yer handheld one was almost shot. We both know that. Maybe ‘m tellin’ you t’ bake fer me mo,’ I dunno,” he had laughed after my jaw had fallen to my chest, and his faced turned a proud crimson. 

“We’re already halfway in, might as well make sure we have tha whole boxset fer when we wanna rewatch it,” Harry told me after I had opened the large box with the five Friends’ faces on it, assuring me that it was just as much a present for him as it was for me. He had kept making it known that that was the theme, so I would stop complaining about him spoiling me too much. 

“I can’t take any credit fer that one, which ‘m quite sorry ‘bout, but mum wanted t’ knit ya sumthin’. Told her ya loved blankets, and here we are. Reckon I might have ya keep it at mine so I can steal it too,” runs through my head as I once again rub the chenille type yarn between my fingers at the end of the bed where the knit blanket lies. With a proud grin, I grab two corners and drape it over the sleeping man in my childhood, twin-sized bed, a dated McFly poster hanging over his head. 

“This one’s jus’ as much fer me as it ‘s fer you, too,” he kept saying, then for Paul McCartney’s second show at the O2, and then for another pair of tickets to his daughter Stella’s fashion show in just a few weeks.

The same phrase, give or take a few words, flowed from his lips when the bag of candles graced my hands. He explained that we nick so many candles from each other’s offices that it was only natural that he bought me some, seeing as how he’d be stealing some here soon, especially the Tobacco Vanilla, Whiskey Cedar, Sage and Lemon, and the highly coveted Cinnamon Roll one.

The cribbage board was just a bonus, him claiming that he could finally bring his office one home and keep mine at work for us to play on. 

What he couldn’t claim his rightful ownership to as well was the card full of unintelligible scribbles from Harper and Ollie, that thank the Gods, Gemma helped them write. The tears in my eyes since the first present grew and grew, and didn’t waver at the message of how Harper wanted to have a sleepover at Harry’s soon with me - nail painting, baking cookies, and all.

But, when I met his eyes with my sad, puppy dog pair, he melted right then and there.

“Harry, this is too much. I can’t accept all of this,” I had told him and he shook his head, lifting my own with his thumb to look in his eyes.

“Please, Becks. I-I hate t’ say it, but I have too much money than I know what t’ do with, and ‘ve been so excited to give you all of these. Don’t worry ‘bout tha money. Alright, my love?”

I gave in, and with the kisses he smothered me with, there was no way in hell I could say no to that face.

He stirs underneath the covers behind me, and so do my thoughts, but with a huff, Harry returns to snoring softly. I carefully open my suitcase and fish out my last clean outfit, and without a sound, walk across the hall and into the shower. 

I thought I had made out like a bandit, but when I slip back into my room in search of Post-Its and a pen, I find that somebody else is awake. 

“Where are you goin’, Becks?” they rasp, pulling themselves up to sit and the covers pool on his lap. Rubbing at his eyes, Harry cards a hand through his tousled curls, quickly yawning. 

“Oh, just to run an errand quick. Go back to bed, I won’t be gone long.” 

“Mmmm,” he groans, knuckling at his left eye. “Can’t it wait ‘til we leave this afternoon, bug? Y’know I can’t sleep without you, I get too cold, and miss havin’ you in me arms.” 

“No, it can’t. I’m sorry . . You’ll fall right back asleep, Harry, I promise,” I shush him, stepping forward and pressing on his shoulder, but he doesn’t fall back in any of the ways that I’d hoped. 

“I’ll come with, then. We can grab some pastries from that bakery you love fer brekky with yer dad.” 

“It’s okay, I will if you want. Please, Harry, go back to sleep. You were up late, you must have a headache from all of those drinks with Robbie. I dunno why you pair had to have a shots competition,” I insist, and my distraction makes a raspy laugh fall from his mouth. 

“I like yer brotha, y’know, he’s a funny git,” he drawls, rubbing his hands down his face once before pulling back the covers. “Can I come? ‘ll be mo’ awake after I have a shower.” 

“I dunno,” I nervously laugh, tucking a wet lock of hair behind my ear. Huffing, I smooth down the floral skirt of my dress and sit on the edge of my bed. Thoughts whizz around in my head, flying to that destination and the next, but this one isn’t sure where to go. 

“If ya really don’t want me t’, ‘s okay. ‘m sorry t’ pressure ya, babe.” 

“It’s okay, Harry. I’d like you to come, but . . I dunno,” I reveal, toying with the ring and starting at the corner of my eye, I watch his hands still my pair that wring each other. 

“Don’t hafta tell me if ya don’t wanna, I trust you y’know.” 

Nodding, I wonder how I had ever gotten so damn lucky with this one. A split second giggle tickles at my lips, and then the toying turns into twirling, and then, telling. 

“She would’ve been eighty-five today, I think,” the whisper fights to make itself known, and I can’t meet his eyes, but I think I hear it in his breathing when he connects the dots. The spinning of the ring, and the tracing of the flower, frozen in time. “I bring her flowers every year, just wildflowers I find on the side of the road. I’ve wanted to bring a cupcake and sing before blowing it out, but it seemed odd to eat it sitting there, when she can’t,” I continue, the frog jumping into my throat at the end there. 

His words are absent, but they’re the least bit of that and so is my surprise when my head meets his shoulder, and his fingers trickle through my hair. 

“You don’t have to come with, if you don’t want to,” I pipe up, grabbing hold of the smooth chain around his neck. The swallows beckon for me, and I trace their wings slowly, wondering how silky they’d feel if they were alive on his chest. 

“I’d like t’ come with, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, it’s more than okay,” I respond, my thumb and finger holding onto the cross when my arms go around his neck, and he lifts me onto his lap. 

“I wish I coulda met her, yer Grandma Ann . . but bringin’ flowers t’ her grave sounds rather special too. Yer tha sweetest, Becks, y’know that?” 

“So do I, she would’ve loved you,” I say, watching the tear glide down the slope of his back, and past the golden hairs lit by the sunrise behind the curtains. 

“Does yer dad go with you?”

“Sometimes, maybe he will today.” 

“‘d like that,” Harry coos, drawing the letters of my name, one by one, along my spine. I only know that because he’d told me last night when I couldn’t fall asleep, and he was happily buzzed.

I think that’s why I couldn’t, because how could my dreams beckon for me when my life was finally better than anything I could dream about?

+

“Ya mean it, tha best ever? In tha whole, entire history o’ birthdays, ever and ever?” they titter and its feeling against my cheek brings one forth onto my lips. 

“You’re so silly, but yes. I had an amazing birthday, Harry. One to remember.” 

“Good, bug. ‘m glad t’ hear. Only tha best fer me favourite girl,” he coos, dragging his nose along my cheek. 

“Maybe next year for my birthday you can grow your hair out again for my birthday present.” 

“Oh, really? That’s whatcha want? Hmm, I was thinkin’ o’ givin’ you a baby fer yer twenty-eighth,” he giggles, the rich smell of coffee hinting on his breath. Now, it’s my turn to giggle and I share it into his neck, our chests bumping when he pulls me closer. I steal a kiss from his swallow and nuzzle in deeper as he drapes the blanket his mum knitted for me over us, sinking further into his sofa. 

“Stop it with the baby talk, marriage comes first, dumbo.” 

“Fine then, ‘ll getchu a ring fer yer birthday,” he continues and I hide my reddening cheeks in the place between his shoulder and neck. Monica laughs at something on the TV behind us, but my focus darts to the melodic kisses he sponges along my neck, and his nose nudging at my shirt. 

“Shush it, I’m not going anywhere,” I insist, revealing my scarlet cheeks to his smiling eyes. 

“Better not, I dunno what ‘d do if ya did.” 

“It’s a good thing neither of us have to worry about that, huh?” I return, tapping my finger on his nose. He nods and brushes his thumb under my eye where he often traces the imperfection that lives there. 

“‘m lookin’ forward t’ mo’ weekends at yer Dad’s. It was loads o’ fun gettin’ t’ see where ya grew up, tha house ya grew up in, yer old schools, tha park at tha pond, and bloody hell, that night out back by tha bonfire,” he says, words falling into a sound of happiness. “I can’t remember tha last time I had so much Tequila. Fook, can that brotha o’ yers drink, and yer dad too. And that pizza yer dad made, ugh, ‘m gonna need anotha one o’ those soon. I miss playin’ board games so much like that, I see where ya get tha love o’ it from. I ‘specially loved playin’ on yer family piano with you, reckon we might make a good pair if we practice some mo’.” 

Giggling, I agree with him as my fingers mingle with his necklace, “Yeah, it was a birthday to remember, that’s for sure.” 

“Reckon so, and I couldn’t be gladder to hear that, bug. Remember last year’s wasn’t tha best, you’ve said. I hope they only get betta and betta, my love,” Harry croons, and I nod, sure that they will. 

It all seems to be a hill that I get to climb by his side, but it’s the least bit tiring, and all the more exhilarating with every step that I take. 

[vanchlo]

Under The Bed / Chapter Two, “Harry”

ABOUT: Josie Stephens was having a hard enough time at her mere age of five, having to start Kindergarten and move to a new house. Little did she know that it all would get a lot worse that first night when a monster popped out from under her bed, changing her life forever. Inspired by the 1989 movie, Little Monsters, one of my childhood favorites, I began this story in 2016 and recently fell back in love with it.

->   SERIES MASTERLIST

->   MAIN MASTERLIST

-> READ ON WATTPAD

WARNINGS: Mild swearing

WORD COUNT: 5.3k words

TAGLIST: IDK HOW TO DO THESE, BUT IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED SO YOU KNOW WHEN A NEW CHAPTER IS POSTED, JUST LET ME KNOW! :)

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SNEAK PEEK OF COURSE ->

"I said, who are you?!"

"Calm down, ya big baby! I came from under yer bed an' I scared ya. Now, what does that big brain ol’ brain of yers tell ya I am?" he replies, and it takes a few seconds before the answer pops into my head.

THEN

It's not the easiest to remember, but when a monster just happens to pop out from under your bed one night, it's not something that you can forget.

The moving trucks were pulling away from the house. Finally. No longer was the front curb crowded by their orangeneness and height. At last, the few big guys walking in and out of the trucks holding all of our stuff were too. I didn't want to move, and I didn't like the new house. It smelled weird and the staircase was like a mountain that I had to climb every day with my short five year old legs. All of my toys were in boxes that were stacked in my room. Nothing but my new big girl bed, a lamp and Mr. Snuggles, the stuffed duck, took up my scary big room that was all mine. But, boy, were there boxes. There were ones labeled in Mom's scribble, 'Josie's clothes,' and ‘Josie's toys' and 'Josie's books.’ Blah blah blah. 

All of this moving business seemed pretty stupid to me. I liked our old backyard better, and that we didn’t have a staircase I had to struggle to climb too many times a day. Lastly, I moved away from Betsy who lived across the street, and Mollie who lived on the corner. I had nobody to play House with or have tea parties with. I think that was the worst part of moving to this stinky, new house. I had to leave my old friends, which meant that I had no friends at all. Maybe Mr. Snuggles was the only one but he couldn't talk, and tea with only two people is boring. I had a new scary bed and bedroom. A new, big house to get used to. Painting the new, cracked sidewalk with chalk didn't sound like fun. 

I had no friends, and I felt so alone.

/

Dad closes my door behind him and Mom, mumbling one last 'sweet dreams' and a kiss before the creaky door closes. The room is cloaked in darkness, making new sounds I don't like and that scare me. The Scooby Doo night light next to my bed is the only light there is, except for the faint streetlight out the left window. Otherwise, it's pitch black, so much so I can't even see my own hand in front of me, and that's when I know it's bad. Lying there under the new, cold, and scratchy sheets, I stare into the dark trying to fall asleep. Mr. Snuggles' fuzzy yellow head is tucked under my chin, and my pink blankey;s clutched to my chest. The sound of cars outside is a small hum through the window, and I can hear the muffled noise of my parents talking downstairs.

It feels like I've been lying here for hours, making me wonder why Mom said that 'I should be out like a light after how tiring today was’ when I just can't fall asleep. But, I don't know, because I didn’t do much else besides sitting on the rickety swing outside. I sat there with Mr. Snuggles watching Mom, Dad, and the moving men bring stuff into the house. Bug Juice after Bug Juice and a mini bag of Oreos was for lunch. 

After a while, I hear the lights flick off and the bar of yellow light under my door turns to black, their work done for the night. My parents' voices get closer as their steps creak on the stairs and disappear down the hall, and then it's quiet. Too quiet. Shutting my eyes, I take a breath as I hold Mr. Snuggles closer and breathe in his familiar scent. But then there's a small click and when I open my eyes, the nightlight is out. Not soon after that, there's a scuffle and my bed lifts on the one side only to fall back down to the floor with a thud.

My heart is thumping in my chest fast and I'm sinking down into my Hello Kitty covers, pulling them over my head as my nervous breaths leave my mouth loudly. I suddenly hear somebody else breathing and the sound of footsteps. Quickly, I'm pretty sure I'm going to die and Mr. Snuggles is going to die with me. No, not Mr. Snuggles. A pair of hands rips the covers down off of my face, but I keep my eyes squeezed shut.

"Are ya serious, ya think bloody bed covers are gonna keep ya safe now?" a thick slow voice says, one that sounds . . weird. It sounds like a boy, an older one than me, and he says his words all weird. "C'mon now, open yer eyes already."

I shake my head, not knowing why I'm doing it but I do. Mom always says I'm stubborn and don't like to do what I'm asked of, whatever that word means. "Oh my god, just open yer eyes," they groan, and I don't know why, but I do. I hear a loud 'boo!' and a pair of hands shake my shoulders, making me scream but a hand comes over my mouth to stop it. A strong musty smell surrounds me. "Bloody hell, ya gotta pair of lungs on you! Keep it down, will ya? Don' wanna wake yer parents an' have 'em come in here. 'd lose me bloody job an' 'd only make yer life mo’ of a living hell if that happened, I swear t’ it," they mutter, voice high with alarm, and ending in a creepy laugh. His tongue makes a weird sound, but I can't see him. I can only hear him. For a second in the dark, I see two hovering green circles above me that don't go anywhere, and then tiny little blue dots appear out of nowhere.

Breathing hard and fast and trying to protect Mr. Snuggles, I open my mouth and bite down hard on what I think is his hand. It tastes gross, and it's cold. He mutters a loud 'ouch!' and then there's creaky steps, his musty smell going away, but only a litte. "I can' believe ya fuckin’ bit me, ya li'l brat!"

"Who are you?" I nearly shout, words feeling weird as my voice shakes.

"Be quiet, will ya? You'll wake yer parents- how many times do I gotta say it?!"

"T-tell me who you are, now!" I bite back, slowly sitting up and hearing sounds from across my dark room. "A-And what did you do with my nightlight?"

"Ya want it so bad, then here, have it," he says, something scuffing against the ground before suddenly it's back in the wall and it's all lit up. "Yer sumthin', arentcha? God, never knew why you goddamn kids liked some stupid dog that talked, anyways. I bloody hate nightlights, they don't really do anythin', do they?"

"I said, who are you?!"

"Calm down, ya big baby! I came from under yer bed an' I scared ya. Now, what does that big brain ol’ brain of yers tell ya I am?" he replies, and it takes a few seconds before the answer pops into my head. I hug Mr. Snuggles tighter to my body and breathe him in, my eyes growing hot and watery.

"Oh my bloody god, dontchu cry. No, no, no, dontchu fuckin’ cry on me," they say really fast, letting out a loud breath at the end. The tears fall down my cheeks long and hot, Mr. Snuggles taking the brunt of them as I hold onto him for dear life. "Please, I hate it when you lot cry, 's bloomin' annoyin’ an' it hurts me ears . . Yer not s’posed t’ do it ‘til afta I leave, ugh. Please stop yer cryin' already, Josie."

I sniffle and lift my head after a second, trying to find him in the dark, whoever he is. But, I still can't see a thing. I think he's across the room towards my closet, but I don't really know. "H-how do you know my name- who are you? Tell me already!"

"Okay, okay. Will ya ever shut that bloody mouth of yers? 'm uh, well 'm a monsta, if ya hadn't figured that out already. Yer a bright little five year old, figured you'd know that by now," they reply, and then there's footsteps. They're getting louder and, so I think, closer.

"How do you know all this stuff about me?"

"That's not even that much, ya brat. I know loads 'bout ya. Know yer birthday, even what time you were born down t' tha second. Know ya hate spiders and frogs, think they're gross 'cuz they're all slimy an' squishy. Know ya jus' moved from yer old house t' this one t’day, an' that ya think tha basement's reaaaaal scary. Also know that yer scared of unda ya bed, as ya should be, an' that tha biggest thing yer scared of 's tha dark," he replies, and even though I can't see it, I know that my jaw is hanging down. Who is this person- well, monster, and why does he know so much about me? How?

"How d-do you know all that, and why do you know it?"

"'s me job t' know that stuff 'bout you, Josie. I only get sum stuff, y’know, tha stuff that matters t' me an' I need t' know. Now, why would I need t' know what yer scared of if 'm a big scary monsta? I bet ya can answer me that one, Josie Posie," he says, and I gulp loudly. Thinking about it for a second, I peek a look over to my door, or in the direction I think it would be in.

"No, no, dontchu even think 'bout screamin' or yer really not gonn' like me, Josie," he warns as I sniffle. I can taste the strawberry chapstick on my lips as they open and I yell the two words.

"Mommy, Daddy!"

"Ugh, ya've really done it now, Jose. I thought ya'd learn yer lesson, but guess not. Thanks a fuckin' lot," the boy mutters quietly. There's a tickle on my ankle before a scuffle, and my bed rises and dips again. 

The lights click on outside my room. I hear fast pitter--patter before my door flies open, and the light turns on. My mom comes in first in her pink bathrobe, pulling it around herself as she rushes over. Dad’s hot on her tail in a Packers shirt and checkered pajama bottoms.

"What is it, sweetie?" Mom hums as she stops in front of me, her face looking sad as her brown hair is all a mess.

"There was a monster in my room! He came from under my bed, and he was all mean and scary!"

They look at each other before pulling me in for a hug, playing with my hair and giving me kisses on the head.

"Honey, you probably just heard something. It's an old house and it makes noises sometimes, but it's nothing to worry about. You're just fine, there's no monsters under your bed because there's no such things as monsters," my dad says, sitting beside me and putting an arm around me.

Mom wipes my tears away and smoothes back my hair as they shush my worries and calm my mind before helping me back under the covers. There's about five 'no's when I ask if I can sleep with them, Dad looking more upset than Mom about it until they leave my bedroom with another 'goodnight' and a 'sweet dreams.’ The room is silent and still, except for the hovering Scooby Doo head lighting up the floor around it next to me. My eyes stay there as the warm blankets hug me. With Mr. Snuggles and blankey close, I shut my eyes and try to get some sleep, like Mom had said.

They fly open when I hear a sound, and I whimper when my bed moves again.

"Ya think yer a smart one, d’ya, Josie? Ya can’t get ridd’a me that fast, love," the boy murmurs, his footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. "They didn't believe ya, did they?"

A small 'no' comes from me as the blankets surround me in a warm cocoon, but I suddenly don't want to be lying here anymore. I want to sit up and see him, but that thought scares the bejeezus out of me the second I think about it.

"Didn' do a lotta good cryin' fer mummy an' daddy, now did it? Maybe ya should think 'bout that tha next time, an' see how good of an idea it seems."

"What do you want?!" I say, my lips bending into a frown as I pull myself up to face my closet, wishing I could see his face. But again, all that's there are the little blue random dots that seem to be in the shape of a rectangles or something, and the bright green dots.

"'m a monsta, love. Already told ya that, what d’ya think I want?"

"Are you really a monster?" I whine in question, feeling like there's a circus happening in my chest.

"Yeah, sure I am."

"You're not telling me a fib?"

"Nope, promise me black li'l monsta heart," they say, and I take a shaky breath as my heart thumps in my ears. Holding Mr. Snuggles as tight as I can, I swipe my tongue across my dry lips and stare into the darkness. The ceiling fan overheard whirs softly, the only sound in the room besides my loud breathing. "'m not tellin' ya a fib, Josie. Promise ya that. How d’ya think I came out from unda yer bed, anyways?"

"How am I supposed to believe you? I don't know you, and I can't even see what you look like when you're talking to me. Danget, I don't even know your name o-or if ya have one!"

"God, yer a feisty li'l one, arentcha, doll? Take a breath, would ya? I dunno, ya don' hafta believe me I s'pose, 's upta you on that one," he replies, and I only grow more confused, heaving a big breath. "Don' get so bent outta shape over it, 'm just yer monsta an' I scare ya. Yer not s'posed t' know me name, 's jus' how it 's, I reckon. Tha's all t' it, really. Now, if I did me job an' yer all scared outta yer socks an' everythin', 'll be off. Got other li'l tots I gott' scare besides yerself, y’know."

"But-," I chance, learning I was two seconds too late. There's a flick of something moving past the space the Scooby lights up, and my bed moves. e's gone. "No fair!" I shout, falling back onto my pillows with a plop. Tugginig my blankets back up, I mutter annoyances to Mr. Snuggles, picturing him replying and agreeing with me.

Then there's that sound again. Like a shoe against carpet, or something like that because Mom never lets me wear my shoes in the house, so I can't be sure. "Sweet dreams, Josie Posie! Oh, and sleep tight! I hope all the beddy bugs bite. 'll see ya later, ya li'l brat!" the squeaky scary voice says again before there's another scruff and I hear him leave, wherever in the world he came from.

Turning over with a whimper, I pull the covers over my head and shut my eyes, trying to think of happy things like sugar plums and fairies. I try to forget about what just happened, and the fact that I have a monster under my bed- my own scary monster.

/

The next day was unpack this and unpack that. Move this and move that. To make it plain and simple, it was boring, it was hot out, and I didn't want to ‘fill up my new bedroom,’ like Mom and Dad kept saying to try and make it sound fun. But it wasn't. Because I couldn't stop thinking about the night before when that thing came out from under my bed. After awhile it just melted down into a bad dream or something I had imagined, because I'm a kid and that's what kids do, right? I must have dreamt it or made it up. 

"It's looking nice so far, isn't it, Josie?" Mom says, looking around at my room staring to well, look like a bedroom. There's my dresser, and my little table for tea parties with my favorite stuffies sitting on the chairs. Clothes are beginning to get hung up in my closet, the bookcase against the wall just needs some books to make it look better and not so sad, and a nice pink rug sits by my door.

"Yeah, I guess," I say sadly, taking a seat on the purple beanbag in the corner, watching Mom turn towards the door when Dad comes in holding another box. He pushes his combed back blonde hair off of his sweaty forehead, wet patches showing under his armpits as he turns to walk away after setting down another box.

"Hmm, I wonder where we should put this," Mom says quietly to herself, holding an old shoebox of something or other. Taking a few steps, she crouches down to push aside my pink Hello Kitty comforter.

"No, don't!" I say, standing up fast and running over to her.

"Why noyt" she replies, looking at me quickly. I glance to the empty space under my bed, now that she's pushed the fabric to the side. When I see nothing but the dark wooden floor, I no longer worry, but now I'm confused. "You don't still think there's a monster under there, do you?"

"No, but maybe a really scary dust bunny," I joke and she smiles before pushing the stray box under there and standing back up to get working on things, because she'll never believe me, anyways. Dad and her didn't the first time, because who would believe me when I tell them there's a monster under my bed? I don't even know if it was real myself.

After a while, we take a break and all sit under the shade of the tall oak tree in the front yard. A pitcher of lemonade and hot dogs with potato chips is for lunch as we sit at our new picnic table. The hot June sun beats down on us as Mom and Dad quietly talk about where to put the couches and which would look better in different spots. I nibble on a crinkly yellow chip, looking around at the new neighborhood. And I wonder if I'll ever get past the cold fear settling in my stomach about this new house.

/

Mom kisses the top of my head, smoothing my hair back with her hand before disappearing into the hallway where Dad talks to somebody on the phone loudly. The door closes with a squeak and I turn over with a huff. I hold Mr. Snuggles and blankey as close as I can before closing my eyes, willing him to not come back. Please, please, please. Please don't come back, please don't come back. I fall asleep mumbling it under my breath, the Scooby light protecting me from the darkness, like Mom said. But I don't know how much I believe that anymore.

/

"Wake up!" a voice shouts, and I jolt awake to find somebody bouncing on my bed. "Bloody hell, get yer arse up already!" they say again, and as I rub my sleepy crusted eyes, I recognize the voice and how the words sound funny. It's the boy again, and he's back. It's the monster.

"I was sleeping."

"I can see that, but ya aren't anymo' so wake up. Did ya know ya snore? 's bloody annoyin', if ya ask me," he mutters, something hard like his leg not far away when I stretch my own out and touch him. They recoil from the cold sensation and I hug them back to my body.

Taking his words carefully, I reach over slowly to find the smooth metal chain and yank it hard to bathe the room in light. A scream leaves my lips when I lay my eyes on him, and as if things are moving in slow motion, I see his yellow tinged eyes with bright green circles roll into the back of his head. Next thing I know, he's practically lying on top of me with his cold gross hand over my mouth. My hurried words leave my mouth in muffled murmurs as his bad breath fans over me.

"Dontcha know how t' keep quiet, ya brat?" he spits, shaking his head of dirty brown curls, making them move and dislodging hair from around the two small yellow horns poking out of his head. One on each side, but that's just the first of it. "Scared ya, did I? Good tha's me job, ya li'l bugger. Now, if I take me hand off yer mouth are ya gonna promise not t' scream? Told ya last night what'll happen if ya do it again."

I nod my head slowly, taking in every part of him. His round head slowly nods too before he removes his hand from my mouth and sits back, letting me get up too. Crossing my legs, my eyes stay glued to him as he turns his head to I guess look around my room. "Looks like a bloody pink pixie threw up all over yer room, 's a bit much, innit?" he says, playing with his bottom lip as he scans my bedroom. A few boxes still sit there waiting to be unpacked, but for the most part my room is all made up. I swallow, and he looks over at me, his eyes going over me. "Ya forgot how t' speak or summat?"

"Y-You're really a monster . . I'm not just imagining it," I whisper, my words going all kinds of places.

"Sure am, Josie Posie. No point in really lyin' 'bout it, now 's there?" he says, breaking eye contact as he stands up. And I find out quickly that he's tall. Another twelfth thing I've learned about him in the last minute.

He waltzes over to the corner of my room where the tea table sits along with a shelf holding pull out baskets with different toys in each. His long pale fingers wrap around one of the handles and tugs on it, picking a red headed Barbie out and making a disgusted sound before stuffing it back in. "Yer such a girl, arentchu?" he complains, his blue tinted skin not bothering to push the basket back in before moving onto my bookshelf, picking up a light blue and purple book. "How ironic 's it that ya have this book, huh?" Turning to me and flashing the cover at me, I see that it's Monsters Inc. I want nothing more than to go back to sleep, I think.

"What does that word mean?" I say nervously, his movements slow and careful as he flips through the book and tosses it onto the floor carelessly, ending right side up on an open page. Looking back to me, his crazy brown eyebrows go up as he looks at me with his bright green eyes. I realize that's what I saw last night glowing in the dark, his neon eyes. "The word starting with an 'I'."

"'ironic'?" he asks, and I nod as he takes his time walking around inspecting my stuff, picking up Beary Jones and petting his soft brown fur. "It uh, I dunno how t' describe it, really. Means that sumthin's funny in a weird way, I guess."

"Whatever," I say, my head falling onto my pillow as I get back under the toasty warm covers.

"Ya can't go back t' bed yet."

"And how come?"

"Cuz, I haven't scared ya all good yet. I can't go yet 'til I have," he replies, running his hand over Beary Jones' ears before pulling at his red overalls. In a blink he rips his head off and white cotton is falling down onto the floor like snow.

"No, not Beary! Why'd you do that?"

"Would ya shutup already, ya nosy li'l brat? 's just a fake stuffed bear, get over it!" he snarls, flinging it onto the red table. Beary's head sits on the floor sadly, getting squished by his grimy black sneakers as he walks back over to me. I shrink into the covers as he approaches. "I scare ya all good yet, Josie Posie?"

I reply with a soft 'no' but as he gets closer I move back, reaching the other side of my bed until I'm almost falling over the edge. His pale face, a shade of light blue, gets closer and closer to mine. The little blue dots like freckles covering his ghostly skin look like little flattened balls of playdoh before they're gone, shouting a 'boo! My back hits the hard floor. A whimper leaves my lips and I hold my achy elbow as tears well in my eyes and my bottom lip quivers, turning away when he walks around the corner with a laugh.

"Go away!" I yell at him, my voice small and weak and the crying isn't helping.

"Yer such a li'l baby, ya know that?" he smiles, crouching down. A holey black t-shirt clings to his sides amongst his muscly arms covered with black pictures and words. Pants the same color and just as old and beat up are on his legs, but they're tighter.

"I said go away, I don't like you!" I repeat, smushing my face into the fuzzy white rug next to me. Hot tears spill from my eyes and wet my hot face. My heart thuds loudly as I sniffle with each sob, no matter how quiet I try to make them. He begins to say something I think, but I stop him, "No! You're mean and I never asked for a monster, I hate this new house and you're making it worse! I hate you I hate you, go away and never come back!"

"Josie," he says softly, whatever his stupid monster name is. "Hey, look at me."

"Why should I?"

"Cuz I said so, now look at me, you li'l shit," he says angrily, and I pull away my sweaty teary face to look up at his. It's blurry, but it's blue and weird and dirty. Reaching his hand out for a reason I don't know, I look between it and his face before opening my mouth and biting his finger.

"You li’l fucker, ow! Why d’ya keep doin' that, ugh?!" he swears. I get up from the floor and dash out of the room and down the hallway. "Yer really gonn' get it now, Josie! Thought you weren't gonna be too bad, but now, I dunno anymo'." I hear lastly as I turn left down the hallway, and I stop in front of Mommy and Daddy's door. I take one last peek down the hall to my bedroom where the light flows out into the dark hall, hiccups leaving my lips as thoughts bubble around inside of my head.

Wiping my tears away, I change my mind and when I step back into my room, I find his dark, dusty figure with his back to me, picking up something off my dresser. He must have heard me because he turns around and looks me in the eyes only for a second, and then his crazy green eyes fall to the Disney snowglobe in his hand. Little balls of snow fall down onto the castle from in the Magical Kingdom.

"Please don't break it, that's my favorite. I got it from Disney at Christmas time," I cry.

"Won't if ya promise not t' bloody bite me again," he shrugs, looking to me for an answer and when I nod he puts it back. He runs the tip of his finger over Tinker Bell's glittery wing, walking over to my bed and pushing the cover back off of the floor.

"Where are you going?"

"Told ya last night I got other kiddies t' scare, an' if 'm bein' honest, 'm quite sick of you fer tha day, so 'm off," he answers, sticking his long legs under my bed. When I take a step closer, I notice that they've disappeared and it's just the tops of his legs and the rest of him still there. But that doesn't make sense, so much of this doesn't. "Breathe, Josie, 's jus'- 'll be back tomorra, try not t' bite anybody else while 'm gone, sound good?"

"O-Okay," I say slowly, playing with the sleeve of my princess nightgown.

"God, you are such a girl, 's bloody terrifyin'," he says, shaking his head. I open my mouth to say something. "Whatd’ ya want now?"

"You never told m-me your name."

"Well tha's for me t' know an' fer you t' never find out, innit now, Josie Posie?" he smiles, winking one of his green eyes at me. I sigh and throw my hands up, feeling the soreness when my elbow moves and I wince, whining a 'that's not fair, you're never fair!'

"Tone it down, will you?! 's jus' a name, dunno why ya wanna know so bad!"

"Well, if you're gonna be scaring me every night, I want to know."

"My goodness, 'm in fer a load of trouble with you, aren't I?" he shakes his head, looking away and to under my bed where it's just brown wood and the beginning of dust bunnies. Rubbing his big, pointy nose, he lets out a loud breath and I see his wacky eyes once more. "Tha name's Harry. Now, I really best be off. Sweet dreams an' ya betta not hope tha bed bugs bite!" 

There's nothing left but a whisper of his words and a whoosh after he slid under my bed, making me wonder ten new things that I don't know what to think of or what the answer could even be.

With a huff, I wander to the door and find the lightswitch. With a last look to the empty space under my bed, I flick the light off and dash to my bed quickly, even though I know there aren't any monsters under my bed to get me. Well, I can't say that anymore, I think, as I bring Mr. Snuggles back into my arms. And I don't know what to think of that really, and how it should make me feel.

But all I know is that I'm kind of looking forward to bedtime now, and getting to see my monster, Harry. He’s kind of . . what’s the word? 

Cute.

[vanchlo]

The Firsts / #3 “The First Time Together Together”

*not my gif*

---> NEXT BLURB: November 2nd, hopefully.

---> READ BLURB #2

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST          

READ ON WATTPAD

-> SHOULD I CREATE A TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES? IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED, LET ME KNOW! :)

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

bold: Harry’s texts

italics: Becky’s texts

WARNINGS: None really

WORD COUNT: 4.6k words

SONG: Our House by Crosby, Nash, Stills, and Young (CLICK TO LISTEN)

                          * SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

“Y’know what, Becks?”

“Hmm, Harry?” I hum in reply, moving my head a few inches this way, and another few inches that way until I hear the boom-boom of his heart under my ear.

“Wish I could fall asleep next t’ you ev’ry night, even if . . ya nag at me,” he mumbles, the words becoming slower and softer with every breath of his.

I wish I could fall asleep smiling next to you, and with your heartbeat under my ear too, Harry.

Me too.

“I am, you know.”

“What?”

“Yours.”

- Tara and Willow, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

*

“I’ve seen you dress up before and you looked nice, but God, you look nice nice today.” 

“How many drinks have ya already t’night?” he chuckles, quirking an eyebrow whilst sipping from his whiskey glass. His long, bubblegum lips spread into a proud smile, wet from the brown liquid that swims around the ice cubes in his glass. 

“None!” I insist and he chuckles again, the sound muffled by the rim of his glass that returns to his lips. 

“Sure, babe,” Harry titters, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat lit by the sun. “‘s okay if ya have. I dunno how I coulda gotten thru’ all that shit in this heat without a few.” 

I almost shrug my shoulders, unsure of what to say to that, but I don’t get the chance to think on it before he takes my hand to lead us away from the gift table. 

“C’mon, I dunno how many mo’ people I can talk t’ and introduce who I bloody am befo’ I go mad,” he wheezes with a shake of his head, downing the rest of his drink. “Beats me how they can’t know who tha best man ‘s, seein’ ‘ve known tha groom most o’ me life and his.” 

“Oh no, is Harry’s big head shrinking now?” I joke, my lips growing to kiss my cheeks when he turns to dramatically roll his eyes at me. 

“Hush, you. Ya want sumthin’ t’ drink? ‘s a free bar, but y’know, only tha basic stuff.” 

“I want my boyfriend back, is what,” I whine, grabbing hold of the front of his blazer and into my arms. A dimple falls into his cheek, and then into his other as he smiles at me. 

“Ya do have me back, babe. What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? Tha ceremony ‘s over, and now ‘s time fer all tha fun.” 

“But you don’t get to sit with me at dinner,” I whimper, my face falling into a smushed assortment of lines. He sighs above me and shakes his head of curls at me, his haircut the other day leaving them how he likes them, short. 

“Oh, stop it. We’ve gone over this, Becks, you’ll be sittin’ with Rose. My’ and Jeanie put you there fer a reason, since I know yer not familiar with many others here. Jus’ be happy me mum and sista couldn’t make it,” he teases against my cheek, the smell of the honey whiskey ghosting over my lips. 

“Don’t say it like I don’t like them, you know I do.” 

“I know, ‘m kiddin’ ‘round,” he titters, sponging a kiss to my temple before he pulls away. I almost get lost in those bright greens, but I’m roused when he brushes his thumb across my cheek. “‘ll be right back. Don’t get all sad now that ‘m leavin’ you fer a sec, my li’l lost puppy.” 

“Shut up, would you?” I mutter with creased cheeks, watching him walk up to the bar in his black suit. His voice floats over to me as the image of his brown curls shrinks from view, replaced by the fairy lights sparkling around us. Pulling at the scoop neck of my scarlet dress, I scan the covered space and the bodies meandering around it, talking. 

“Here’s a White Zinfandel, I dunno what else d’ya want,” a voice says from behind me. I don’t need to look to see who it is, but I do by habit and am met with a tan hand full of rings holding out a glass of pink wine to me. 

“Oh, thanks.” 

“Welcome,” Harry returns, tapping a finger against his once again full whiskey glass, making a clinking noise. “Aw, fook. They’re startin’ speeches already, I betta go. ‘ll see you soon, love. Wish me luck,” he rushes, surprising me with a kiss to the lips and a pat to my back. 

“Luck!” I call after him, laughing when he looks back at me with a comically confused look whilst taking a glug from his glass for good measure. 

“Well, shit, what d’ya even say at these things?” he blubbers from the stage a few moments later, cheeks red and dimpled. With aching cheeks from smiling, I sip at my glass of wine while watching him stumble to find his speech in a pocket of his onyx black suit. 

“Oh, here tha bloody thing ‘s,” Harry chuckles, and the crowd echoes him. “Myles, Myles, Myles. Where do I even start with you, ya git? Known ya too bloody long, I reckon. Fookin’ hell, known ya fer fifteen years too long, ‘d say,” he begins, and the guests hang onto his every word as do I. “We’ve sure been thru’ loads o’ shit t’getha, and here ya are, married. God, ya always hafta do ev’rything befo’ me, dontch’u?” 

The sweet wine lingers on my lips as my laugh blends into the rest of those around me while Harry shakes his head, taking a drink break to sip from his glass. 

“We went t’ school t’getha, law school t’getha, and started a bloody lawfirm t’getha t’ top it all off. Somehow, ‘s still standin’ and we’re doin’ great. I know it wouldn’t be if it weren’t fer you . . Reckon neitha would I, hope y’know,” he continues, and my eyes follow his to where Myles stands at the front of the crowd with his new wife on his arm. An emphasis sits in his eyes that goes unmatched until I find Harry’s again and the few tears that sit in them, drowning in the gratefulness and emotion that I recognize bittersweetly. “Ya’ve go’mme thru’ mo’ shit than I could ever thank you fer, and you’ve been me rock when mine was missin.’” 

The wine sits on my tongue sourly when I hear that and see his sad smile, and then his two second glance to me that’s gone when I blink. The rest of his best man’s speech goes on without a hitch, and the crowd loves him. But, God, they don’t as much as I do, I think whilst admiring my favorite person in the entire world, and just how fucking fine he looks in a tux. Harry leads a cheers with his whiskey glass raised to the ceiling, and I join him as my eyes stay glued to the man whose bowtie sits unraveled at his neck. The man whose cheeks shine with a summer glow and absence of facial hair, and his trademark curls combed into a quiff that this summer day couldn’t even bother. 

Six months in, and the butterflies still return when he steps off the stage, and his alcohol-reddened cheeks dimple with the smile that he sends to me. 

“Can I have this dance, miss?” he asks, setting down his whiskey next to my wine. 

“Of course. I could never turn down a dance from the best man, I’m sure every other lady here would die for one.”

“Yer so cheesy, Becks, even mo’ so than me sumtimes,” Harry remarks, taking my hand in his and leading me to the dance floor in the middle of the outdoor space. “I love ya fer it, y’know.” 

“Good, you better,” I almost laugh, letting him guide my hands to his shoulders as he places his on my waist. 

“Maybe it’ll be us havin’ tha first dance at one o’ these sumday soon, Becks. Have ya thought ‘bout me question yet, hmm?”

“I dunno,” I giggle against the warmth of his neck after nuzzling close to him. His sigh tickles my temple that he soothes with the gentlest of pecks. 

“I know my answer.” 

“And what’s that?” I wonder aloud, swaying to the song with him, ever so effortlessly. Somehow, anything with him feels that way. 

“Wouldn’t you like t’ know.” 

“Harry!” I exclaim, leaving the safety of his neck to find his giggling lips. 

“What? That’s whatcha get when ya won’t answer me question.” 

A scoff leaves my lips, and he only giggles harder until it shrinks away to be replaced by his fingers in my hair ever so softly. 

“I think Styles would sound good on you, Becks,” he hums, thumb ghosting over my birthmark as his eyes explore me. 

“How many drinks have you had today?”

“Doesn’t matta. I feel that way sober even,” he insists, those greens at last returning to me. The slightest of curls comes to his lips and something I can’t quite place blossoms in his eyes. “Rebecca Styles, it sounds perfect. Dontchu think, babe?”

“Harry, it’s only been six months-.” 

“In a week and a half, I know, Becks,” he interrupts softly, biting at his lip habitually. “Jus’ a thought. Whenever ya have that answer fo’ me, lemme know,” he whispers against my ear, sending goosebumps down my spine. 

Oh, but I think I do, Harry.

+

“Oooooookay, that’s enough for you, mister. Come on, let’s get you to bed already.

“Becks, no. ‘m fine, I promise you. I don’t wanna go t’ bed yet, babe,” he whines. The dark liquid sloshes around in the cup he holds, threatening to spill over the sides. 

“Harry, you’re going to spill. C’mon, we’re both spent. Let’s go to bed,” I insist, taking the half-full wine glass from his hand and setting it down on the wooden coffee table. 

“Fine, mum,” he mumbles, getting to his feet shakily. Tugging on his arm some more, I slowly thread him through the space between the sofa and table. 

“Come on then, son. If you’re gonna act like a child, I’ll treat you like one,” I laugh, shortly enjoying the fake laugh he gives me. The steps are slow, and so is getting him ready for bed, and into it, is even more so. 

“Why’re you laughin’ at me?” he whimpers as I pull the covers up his shoulders before sliding under them myself. 

“Because you’re kind of pathetic.” 

“Hey, be nice t’ me. I didn’t mean t’ get all buzzed t’night,” Harry complains, taking my hand and pulling me over, until my head is on his shoulder. 

“Oh, so what do you call the five glasses of wine you had at your sister’s and the other two you snuck once we got home? I thought you swore off alcohol the other day when you woke up with a hangover after the wedding.”

He only sighs and closes his eyes, his warm rings molding against the round of my shoulder. The rhythm of his breaths attempts to whisk me off into my dreams already, a pair of leggings I’d left at his and my favourite t-shirt of his swallowing my top. 

“Y’know what, Becks?”

“Hmm, Harry?” I hum in reply, moving my head a few inches this way, and another few inches that way until I hear the boom-boom of his heart under my ear. 

“Wish I could fall asleep next t’ you ev’ry night, even if . . ya nag at me,” he mumbles, the words becoming slower and softer with every breath of his. 

I wish I could fall asleep smiling next to you, and with your heartbeat under my ear too, Harry. 

Me too.

+

The chatter fills my ears in a stable hum, hitting pitch and falling low at times, only to flutter between the two again, and again. Shortly, it all falls away when the door closes to hush the room, but the volume in my heart only grows louder. The question that shouts into the void within my chest repeats itself for the next five minutes, until the frosted glass door opens and spits him out. Everybody gives him a hard time for being late, and only do I relax when he meets my eyes with a soft smile, at last. I get a wink before he sits down at the table across from me, feeling a thousand miles away from me. Within a few moments, and pressing the keys of my laptop, he isn’t, anymore. 

Late much?

it was the traffic, it was terrible

You know you use that excuse much too often, Harry, especially for your own meeting

i know, you only tell me all of the time babe ;) 

oh but hey, i gotta tell u. i’ve been listening to that one band some more that you rec’d. holy shit are they good. hippocampus was it?goofy name but they’ve got some tunes. i think im likin Bambi best rn. 

No way, that’s my favorite of theirs! Yes, I’m soooo happy you’reliking them!!!!! 

told you i’d get to them eventually babe. just wish it hadn’t takenme so long now. wow! 

I told you!!!

there ya are again lovin to tell me ya told me so haha 

Wow, it’s like I know you or something

wow its like i knew youd like vampire weekend or someting. ok stop it with the texts i really gotta concentrate here. im supposed to be your boss

Yeah, you’re doing a great job of that, sir. Showing up late to a meeting. Being  hungover at work. Shall I continue, boss?

hush, you. could easily make you me assistant again 

You wanna bet? Myles and Rose like me too much that let that happen

I do wanna bet. keep talkin babe and youre payin for lunch 2day

Rude 

i learned from the best 

Quietly scoffing, I lift my eyes to find the smirking pair waiting for me. Harry stifles a laugh with his fist against his smirking lips, dimples showing loudly. He winks quickly at me before turning his head to listen to Myles, only making me miss him all the more. A notification bubble on my screen catches my attention, and makes my smile grow all the wider. 

love you my little shit Xxxxxxxx

+

I think you’re … Oh my god, Harry. Are you falling asleep? At a meeting?!

am not

Are too!

used the wrong ‘to,’ Becks

Did not!

not fun bein corrected all the time now is it, ms. grammar police?

Rude

hell is that your response to anything that doesnt go your way, brat? 

I guess somebody doesnt get their dick sucked tonight after all

dont be fuckin rude

Not fun being called rude, now is it?

your gonna be the death of me, holte. swear it

It’s you’re, has FRIENDS taught you nothing, or have I?

nah i fuckin tune out when you start to nag you should know this by now babe

Yeah well, I think a mastered lawyer such as yourself with his own lawfirm should know when to use the different yours 

ya well, i think the girlfriend should know when to stop before she doesnt get to sleep over at the boyfriend’s tonight

You’re rude

I learned from the best

Harry Edward!

dont you push it rebecca ann 

Ugh, I want to hate you sometimes

its settled. no sexy time for you tonight

Harry! I got new lingerie! 

only kidding baby ;) bring the lingerie plz i cant wait to see you in it, my pretty girl 

Yes, sir ;) 

good girl

+

The halls are much too quiet with The Big Four in a meeting this morning, about what, I don’t recall. It still stings to pass Jennings in the hall, and things are still awkward between him and Harry I’ve noticed, but all he told me was that he had handled it. What he meant by that, I don’t know, but all I know is now, it’s The Big Three - Myles, Harry, and Rose, and no longer The Four. Rose made junior partner last month and the celebration still hadn’t ended from it, but we all could see the fake smile Jennings slapped on and continues to. Like Harry and Myles, she still takes cases and argues them, but now, she's more involved with the nitty gritty details of the firm, and seems to be loving it. Wedding planning, and all. I can only wish to be as on top of it as she is like that one day. 

My movements are slow and calculated as I close my laptop, and check my appearance in the mirror. Adjusting my cream blouse underneath the black suit, I take deep breaths, but they just don’t stick. I set my iPhone down on the desk, but not before checking my home screen. Nothing new, just as it was five minutes ago when I last checked. Okay, then, I think before stepping into the hall and closing my door behind me. 

The new, large clock in the lobby dongs softly through the halls, announcing nine o’clock. It’s time. Despite my best efforts, I glance around corners and over my shoulder, looking for him, but he’s nowhere to be found. 

Great. 

Even better. 

Knock knock!

“Oh, come in, please,” the voice behind the door says, bringing me forth. “Hey, Becky. Right on time, thanks.” 

“Welcome, Myles. Where’s that business partner of yours?” I softly laugh, hoping I can diffuse the tension, if only somehow. The question flew from my lips the moment I stepped into his office and noticed that we’re alone. 

“Hmm, not sure. I just saw him a few minutes ago after our meeting finished. It beats me. Shouldn’t the girlfriend know?” he jokes wryly, moving around items on his desk. 

“God, I wish. Sometimes, I’m no better. I haven’t spoken to him yet this morning,” I offer, smoothing down the back of my skirt and take a seat in front of his desk.

“Yeah, known him for I dunno how long, and I couldn’t tell you where he’s run off to. Oh, really? Didn’t carpool together with his early meeting today?” 

“Talkin’ ‘bout me, are you?” somebody voices. Both of our heads turn to behind me to watch Harry walk in, holding a Queen mug, and his laptop under his arm. 

“Yeah, wondering why you’re always late, mate.” 

“Line fer coffee was long in tha break room,” he shrugs, as if it’s a top tier excuse. “Hey, my love,” Harry coos with a smile to me, bending down to press his lips to mine. I almost giggle against his, but my widening eyes do all of the talking when he pulls away. 

His quirked eyebrows do his talking as his dimples glow on his face. Words almost leave his wondering lips but they’re interrupted by Myles excusing himself to take a call. 

“What’s that look fer?” Harry wheezes at last, sipping from his mug before finding a coaster to set it down on. 

“Since when do we kiss in front of people we work with?” I giggle nervously, wondering when the heat will ever leave my cheeks now. 

“‘s jus’ Myles, babe. He doesn’t give a shit. I reckon he has t’ have a bit o’ understandin’ afta how many times ‘ve griped over how much o’ a pain in tha arse it can be fer us t’ keep it professional ‘round tha firm,” he explains, swiftling undoing the one button on his pinstriped pecan colored blazer. 

“Oh,” is all I say, looking around the office absentmindedly while my mind whirs. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see yer texts ‘til now. Busy meetin’ this mornin,’ but we got loads done luckily,” he says, the sound of his velvet black boots soft on the tiling, blending into the sounds of the firm, as I call it. “Hmm, I liked tha one song ya sent me from Cage tha Elephant, so ‘ll hafta give this one a try, too. Thanks, babe.” 

“Mmmhmm,” I hum, distractedly. My chin falls into my hand and the pastel purple of my nailpolish blurs in front of me. 

“Alright there? Not still worryin’ ‘bout yer review inna few, are you, Becks? I told ya you’ll do great, y’know I have nuthin’ bad t’ say ‘bout how yer doin.’ ‘Course I hafta come up with sumthin’ t’ work on with you, but that’s jus’ ‘cause I can’t avoid it.”

“What?” I respond quickly, looking up to find his squinty eyes at me. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just nervewracking.” 

“‘s jus’ Myles, bug. There’s nuthin’ t’ worry ‘bout, I already told him how ya’ve been doin,’ and winnin’ last week’s case t’getha, t’ top it off,” he remarks with a glow in his voice. 

Nodding, the words poise to jump from my lips, but just then the door opens, “Sorry about that, let’s get started now that Harry’s made his fashionably late arrival, like always.” 

“Hey, watch it, My.’ Seems yer no betta,” Harry jests, fingers decorated with rings coursing through his short curls. 

“I actually had a good excuse, mind you,” Myles says, falling into the chair behind his desk. 

“God, it’s like my first interview all over again. Harry’s late and you’re both arguing like an old, married couple,” I joke with a small laugh, crossing my ankles and folding my hands. 

“Sure are,” Harry agrees aloud with a loud air kiss to Myles, scooching his chair towards the desk with a warm smile sent my way. 

“So, Becky,” Myles begins, pulling out a stapled document that somehow embeds fear into my bones, quickly ignoring the assurances Harry has showered me with. “Harry’s been telling me that you’re doing great, and things are going well six months in.” 

“Yes, very well, actually. Learnin’ loads,” Harry adds in, leaning back in the twin office chair while a hand gets lost in his hair, per usual. 

“So I’ve heard. How are things going in your opinion, Becky?”

“Thank you, Myles,” I say, trying not to laugh as the two men exchange annoyed looks. “I’m really happy here and like Harry said, I’m learning lots. I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher than him.” 

“I dunno if I agree with that,” Myles quips and my humorous boyfriend shakes his head with a perturbed sigh. “I’m joking, Hare, and Becky, I’m very glad to hear that. We’re all very happy to have you here and part of the team. Somebody, especially.” 

“Would ya shuddup, My’?” Harry groans with a click of his tongue, but when I meet his eyes, he’s anything but annoyed with the sunshine he sends my way.

+

“Told ya yer review’d go great, babe. Ya should listen t’ me mo.’” 

“Would you hush?” I say. “Of course you’d say that.” 

“What’s that s’posed t’ mean?” Harry asks, all confused. 

“You just have a big head, that’s all,” I answer, opening the car door and stepping out into the humid garage. 

“Hey, would ya stop givin' me a hard time ‘bout havin’ a big head? It hurts me feelings.” 

“I didn’t mean it that way, but does it hurt your feelings if I mean you have a big ego, too?” I explain, toeing off my sandals in his entryway. 

“Yes,” he whines, dramatically. It pulls a laugh from my lips that sounds around the empty house, it soon coming to life as I flick on some lights. “Harper sure was adorable callin’ you Anty Becky t’night.” 

“I know, I loved it. Her birthday was fun. Thanks again.” 

“Oh, don’t thank me, love. Thank her. She was tha one who made you a handmade invitation, not moi,” he comments warmly, the jangling of his keys accompanying his words. “Thank you, I know it wasn’t ‘xactly convenient with t’day, and ev’rythin.’” 

“No, it’s okay. It was a lot of fun, you know I love your family.” 

“I know, it makes me happy. Thank you, Becks,” he says, pulling on my hand until I follow into the dining area, and then onto the sofa. 

“Welcome, Harry. Do you want to watch an episode of FRIENDS, or a few, before I go home?”

“I was thinkin’ ya could stay tha night again, if ya wanna. Figured we should do sumthin’ t’ celebrate tha big 6,” he announces, his voice teeming with excitement, guiding my eyes to his figure behind the kitchen island. I’m startled when the cork pops from the dark bottle, squealing with a hand to my mouth. “Want a glass?”

“Yes, please. And there’s chocolate cake hidden in the fridge that I saved for tonight.” 

“Jus’ look at you, spoilin’ me,” Harry says with a clicking of his tongue, soon drowned out by the opening of drawers, and clinking of silverware. 

Humming under my breath, I splay out on the sofa with the remote in hand. Pressing on the different arrows, I wait for the right screen to load while I scroll through my phone. 

“Here ya go,” he announces, setting down a plate with slices of chocolate cake, and two wine glasses half filled with a sparkling liquid. “‘s Prosecco, hope that’s okay.” 

“Yeah, I like that too. Thanks, babe.” 

“Yer welcome, love. Oh, don’t wanna f’get this, no, I don’t,” he says, and a moment later, a small wrapped box arrives on my lap. 

“Harry,” I begin in protest, but sitting down next to me, he doesn’t let me continue. 

“Don’t worry, jus’ open it.” 

“I was going to say that I didn’t get you anything for our six month today,” I tell him with emphasis in my voice. He shakes his head while taking a bite of the cake, swiping at his tongue dotted with crumbs. 

“There’s nuthin’ I want- jus’ open it, Becks. Please,” he insists, nodding at the present and looking away quickly to stab at the cake again. 

“Okay then,” I tease, sitting up and crossing my legs. “Harry Styles, this better not be a you-know-what ring.” 

“‘s not, babe. Ya still haven’t given me that answer, so ‘course not,” he explains with a mouth full of cake, and crazily, I love him all the more for it. Shaking my head at the smirk he wears, I tear at the metallic, purple wrapping paper until I arrive at a white, square box the size of my palm. “Maybe ya could gimme an answer t’ anotha question I have instead,” Harry says slowly, right as I pry the top off to find a lone, purple house key waiting for me. 

“What?” I laugh without thinking a thought about why, or how, and every other thing in between. Looking up and away, I find his dimpled cheeks the near color of roses. A laugh wheezes from his lips as he sets down the plate on the table, but I find it hard to focus on as my heart begins a race inside my ribs. 

“I meant it when I said tha other night that I wanna fall asleep next t’ ya ev’ry night, babe. So, what d’ya say t’ sleep overs with me ev’ry night, hmm? Will ya move in with me, Becks?” and just like that, it all clicks inside of my head, even though I had put a few of them together just a moment ago. 

Plucking the key from the box, I rub it between my fingers, and then my eyes return to him, like everything always does. His bottom lip is riddled with indents from his chattering teeth, as if his eyes like a meadow weren’t boring into me already. 

“Becks, love?” he murmurs softly, anxiously. A curve arrives on my lips, mere moments before I cross the sofa and jump onto his lap. His peppery, vanilla scent swims around me while his ever contagious laugh does the same, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Bloody hell, woman, can I get that answer from ya already or not?” 

Giggling, I at last pull away from hugging him and come to feel the days of stubble littering his cheeks, just how I like it. The flecks of gold and ivory in his eyes catch the light as they dance over my face, and I wonder what he sees in mine as his fingers get lost in my hair. I wonder if he sees the answer before I say it, because what else would it be but, “Of course, Harry. There’s nothing I’d want more.”