#harry is dressed in all blue sweats

[poeghoul]

hard times ii.

in which y/n misses harry.

word count: 5,606 warnings: descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, angst, a wee bit of fluff part one

Y/n stood staring at her door for what felt like an eternity, mouth agape and hands sweating beside her, but when she was finally able to break her gaze from the chipped wood that stood before her, she realized it had only been five minutes. Five, incredibly prolonged, minutes. 

In a daze, she made her way to her bathroom, reaching in to flick the light on before entering. She stared at herself in the mirror; pink, tear stained cheeks while purple and blue hues graced the delicate skin under her eyes; she felt unrecognizable and hated locking eyes with who was staring back at her. She wanted to sob, a wave of anxiety crashed down onto her. She’d never felt more alone. Especially with the way he had left so abruptly. She wondered what she did to anger him so, while the sound of the door slamming played on repeat in her head. 

She moved over to the shower, reaching past the curtain to turn the water on, and undressed; her vision blurred from tears begging to escape, wanting to replicate the warmth of Harry’s hand on her cheek. She still didn’t know his name, but he’s bewitched her in ways she doesn’t understand. 

She stood still in the shower, covering her chest with her arms, not daring to move from the position that gave her a sense of protection. She felt watched; paranoid that the boy from the diner had found where she lived and planted hidden cameras and recording devices in every crevice of her home. She regretted getting in the shower, she regretted even undressing and, most of all, she regretted doing whatever she did to make Harry leave. 

If she could go back to being in the car with him, she would’ve lied about where she lived, drawing out the quick three minute drive to a four hour road trip if it meant spending the entire night in his presence; if it meant her thigh still felt the warmth of his and especially if it meant he would have looked into her eyes for even a minute longer. She missed the sense of safety he gave her and hoped he meant it when he said someone would be staying in the area she lived in. She was doubtful of someone coming by to bring her to and from work, and even more doubtful that, if she was proven wrong, she would be seeing Harry again.

Once she had worked up the courage to wash her hair, body and face, she wrapped a towel that was far too small for her comfort around her body and stepped out of the foggy, suffocating air of her bathtub. The mirror was fogged up, which she was grateful for, not wanting to make eye contact again with a reflection she hoped was deceiving. Had she looked that disheveled all night? Or was it just a reflection of the trauma she had been so unlucky to endure?

After she dressed herself in fuzzy pajama bottoms and a large sweater, she searched for her phone and tv remote, the silence of her apartment had become louder than ever before; it was unbearable, uncomfortable. She wanted to crawl out of her skin; wanted to become two separate piles of flesh and bone. Maybe her ribs wouldn’t feel so hollow, but still, somehow, filled with rocks. Maybe she wouldn’t have to stare at an unfamiliar face in the mirror and hate what she saw, afterall, she wouldn’t have flesh to prod at. 

 The silence became deafening. She needed something to fill the space, no longer comfortable with where her internal monologue was headed. 

Finding the remote, she turned her tv onto Netflix, playing the first thing she saw (she was so grateful it wasn’t Pride and Prejudice, she would’ve just cried on the floor the rest of the night), and throwing the remote somewhere on her bed. She searched her bag for her phone, remembering she had left it in the pocket of her jeans but forgetting if she had set it down somewhere. And for some reason, not being able to find her phone was her breaking point. 

She began pacing, breathing picking up before getting caught in her throat like a jagged pill that was too big to swallow. With trembling hands, she gripped strands of her hair, tugging on the root and yanking as hard as she could. She needed the sting, something to bring her back down; she felt like she was floating away; a balloon in the weak grasp of a six year old, haphazardly letting go, and crying from the lack of care. Her breathing caught again, and she couldn’t contain the sob that was begging, pleading with her to escape. 

She made her way to the bed, her vision becoming tunneled, and sat down while tears rolled down her face and onto her neck. The sound of the tv was drowned out by a ringing in her ears. She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished he had stayed a second longer. She wished his cologne wasn’t lingering in her studio. She wished his hand stayed on her cheek and, most of all, she wished he would’ve told her his name. She worried she wouldn’t see him again; she worried over how attached she had become to him, knowing it wasn’t healthy. But she couldn’t help it; not very many men would’ve done what he did for her. She would forever be grateful for him even if he never graced her with his presence again, she hoped he would, though. 

Finally, she was able to lay down, pulling the covers over her head and pulling her knees to her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she covered her mouth with her hand, a poor attempt at muffling the wails that left her body with her palm. The crying had begun to make her nauseous, thinking she’d vomit at any moment. The anxiety caused by that boy at the counter built up in her stomach, the pressure building up there beginning to burst. She rolled onto her back, not caring that this is the last position you’re supposed to be in when about to throw up, and thrashed. Gripping the sheets in her hands, her knuckles turned white, and she stuffed as much as she could take in her mouth and screamed, back arching into nothing above her, as a way to release the built up pressure coursing through her blood. Her throat ached. 

She wished he had stayed. She longed to be held. 

She cried herself to sleep. 

+++

Y/n got out of bed only when she had to; when she needed water and had to use the bathroom. She felt like all the life was drained out of her. And when she did use the bathroom, she didn’t wash her hands, not wanting to spend any extra time out of the familiar, comforting warmth of her bed (also not daring to even catch her reflection in the mirror, she was sure it’d make her feel ten times worse). She didn’t eat anything that morning and barely moved a muscle; her limbs aching all over. 

When she had to get ready for work, she brushed her teeth facing away from the mirror, and spat the toothpaste into the toilet. Brushed her hair, washed her face and did her makeup, all while barely making eye contact with herself. Though, she did feel significantly better after taking care of herself. 

She dressed herself in her normal uniform, a black long sleeve with black corduroy pants, and tried to slip her feet into her high top sneakers without untying them (she wasn’t sure why she always did that when she was never successful; always having to untie them and put them on her feet just to retie them, but she’d never admit defeat and would definitely do the same tomorrow).

Still unsure of where her phone was, she looked to the time displayed on the clock beside her bed. Only having about ten minutes to spare, she had to prioritize her options: either tear her apartment apart in search of her little cracked device or possibly get a coffee and have a cigarette. She chose the latter. She grabbed her keys from the little dish on her kitchen counter, stepped outside and locked the door behind her. She could look later. 

Skipping down the stairs, she pulled out the little blue carton of cigarettes and plucked one from the cardboard. Bringing the little stick to her mouth, she searched for her green lighter in her bag (the color only reminded her of his eyes, and introduced a dull ache in her chest), and cupped her hands around the end of the cigarette to light it. She inhaled the smoke, holding it in her lungs til it burned slightly, before exhaling and repeating the process over and over as she began to make her way to the diner. Black, stale coffee from a little ceramic mug will have to do for today. 

++

She was an hour into her shift, only attending three tables so far, when the bell on the door chimed. She approached the door and her breath caught. Green eyes looking around before staring into her. He walked to her, stomping his feel on the vinyl, checkered flooring as he neared her. Her expression similar to one of a deer in headlights. 

“I thought I told you I’d be sending someone to get you, did you not listen to me?” he spat at her, grabbing her arm to pull her closer, his hand lingering on her elbow. She felt tingly, butterflies erupting from cocoons that filled her stomach. She just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. His nostrils flared, “I asked you a question, Y/n,” y/n, even the way he said her name ignited something deep in her. 

“I-I just forgot, I’m sorry,” she bowed her head, gnawing on her bottom lip while her hands suddenly became more interesting than the man she yearned for the night before. He sighed, his eyes closed. 

“How did you forget? I told you that just last night,” she shrugged, still looking down. She went to respond, “look at me when I speak to you,” her head shot up, looking at him with doe like eyes. She thought she could get lost in the forest of his eyes; tall trees towering over her with leaves the same shade as his irises, crisp air filling her lungs while the wind whispered her name over and over again. 

“I just didn’t think you were serious, I’m sorry,” she continued to pick at her nails with her left hand, needing to occupy herself in some way to keep her composure, and pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth. Pale pink flesh turned bright red from surfacing blood. 

He didn’t like her response; she doubted his word. “I was absolutely serious, y/n, your safety,” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath in, he let go of her arm, not realizing he was still holding onto her. “Don’t you dare try to walk home tonight, Jax will be here to get you. You are only to leave if it’s with him, understood?” she nodded, muttering a ‘yes’ under her breath. “I don’t understand mumbling, use your words.”

“Yes,” she replied immediately, “yes, yeah, I understand.”

“Good,” he reached into his jacket pocket, a deep green rectangle in his hand. “You were dumb enough to leave your phone in my car,” her jaw dropped at the insult, he held back a smirk, her reaction feeding his desire for her. “Should keep better track of your belongings, y/n,” she pouted, furrowing her eyebrows at him. She looked like a sad little puppy, and all Harry wanted to do was suck her spit slicked bottom lip between his and touch her soft skin again. He stared down at her and the bell on the door chimed again. She broke her gaze, looking to the patron who’d just walked in. She stepped back to grab a menu and navigated around Harry to bring the customer to an unoccupied table (there was plenty, only one other person here) all while he watched her.

After she gave her introduction and took a drink order, she walked back to Harry. “Thank you for bringing my phone, I won’t forget it tonight,” she smiled at him but dropped it as he didn’t return the kind gesture. He nodded, her eyes wandering from his, unable to maintain composure while staring into his. He hummed out a ‘yeah’ in response. 

“Is it always this dead?” she shrugged one shoulder, looking out the window.

“Mmm, kinda, depends on the season,” she looked back to him, “I have to bring him his drink, thanks again for bringing my phone,” she half smiled.

“Don’t forget tonight, please.”

“I won’t,” she meant it. She absolutely wouldn’t. She couldn’t wait for her shift to be over. 

He didn’t move to leave, still. He stepped closer to her, taking a deep breath in while her breathing picked up, her heart beating erratically; she swore he would cause her to go into cardiac arrest with how close he was. He looked down at her, a significant difference in height, and y/n felt like she could collapse at any given moment. He was so close. 

And that was it. He turned to leave, not saying anything. Just turned around, opened the door and left. 

She pretended like it didn't hurt and resumed working as usual. 

+++

She didn’t have to stay late tonight like the previous. The last customer left a good forty five minutes before closing, giving her plenty of time to properly clean the little diner and scroll through her phone before being able to actually leave. And once 10:00pm hit, she locked the door before heading into the back for her nightly routine of gathering her things and clocking out.

She stepped outside with one of the cooks, saying their goodbyes to each other before parting ways. She looked ahead of her to the black range rover with a familiar man standing in front, the kind man who sat at the counter last night. She smiled at him while she approached him, he held the door open for her and she slid into an empty backseat. Her smile faltered. 

“How was your shift, miss y/n?” He asked as he slipped in the front seat.

She locked eyes with him in the rearview mirror and smiled at him, “it was good, thank you.” 

“You gave Mr. Styles quite the scare this morning,” he chuckled.

Mr Styles. 

“I’m sorry, I-I really didn’t know he was serious, I’m sorry,” she rushed out, shaking her head rapidly. 

“Oh don’t worry, sweet pea, he overreacts to everything,” he pulled out of the parking lot. She stayed quiet in the backseat. The drive was short, she was home almost instantly. 

“Thank you for the ride,” she collected her bag, adjusting the strap over her shoulder, “I’m off tomorrow so I won’t be seeing you, um, but should I give you my work schedule or-?” 

“Mr.Styles already has it,” he smiled at her in the rearview, “enjoy your day off.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, again,” she returned the smile and opened the door, jumping out and shutting the door behind her before she made her way up the stairs leading to her studio. 

She pulled out her keys from her bag, inserted the key and entered the space. She turned the lights on, made her way to the kitchen and set her keys in the glass dish. After kicking her shoes off, she sat on the floor, leaning her back against her bed frame and scrolled through tiktok, trying to distract herself from descending into madness over the fact that he somehow just had her schedule (it absolutely worked, she watched one fifteen second video and the question was completely out of her mind).

She was giggling at her for you page when an unknown number called. She rolled her eyes, sending it to voicemail and resumed her uneventful scrolling. Or she tried to, as the number called again. And she sent it to voicemail, again. And they called again, she groaned and sent them to voicemail another time. The caller really couldn’t take a hint, could they?

Her phone vibrated in her hand, the number resorting to texting rather than calling. A smart move on their behalf, who answers calls from unknown numbers these days? Literally no one, that's who. 

Unknown:

Answer the phone. 

Y/n:

who is this??

Unknown:

Harry.

Y/n:

harry who?

Unknown:

Just answer the call, y/n. 

The drop of her name freaked her out, she held her phone cautiously in her hand. Breathing picking up as she anticipated another call. The familiar call screen popped up, and she hit the green button this time, held it up to her cheek and uttered a ‘hello’ into the speaker. 

“Why’d you send me to voicemail?” she recognized the voice immediately. 

A dimple dug into the skin of her cheek as she grinned, “I don’t answer unknown numbers, Harry,” she loved saying his name. She wished she could make a song of it. Harry, Harry, Harry, she would sing in the prettiest, sweetest melody.

“Well, I suppose that's for the best. But from here on I expect an immediate answer, understood?” 

“Mmhm,” she responded, chewing on her bottom lip to contain her giddiness; she’s only known him for one day and he already has her like this! 

He sighed into his speaker, “I’ve already told you, y/n, use your words. I don’t like repeating myself.”

She rolled her eyes, “yes sir,” she mocked. 

“Good girl,” her eyes widened and she swore her heart stopped, and maybe he meant it in a fatherly way, but she would absolutely read into it in a way beyond that. In a very non-fatherly way. “Did you make it inside?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good” she bit her lip and shut her eyes. “And Jax was on time?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t find anymore words in her vocabulary, like twenty three years of speaking and learning new terms were thrown out the window from a simple praise. A praise that probably meant nothing to him, 

“And you’re off tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“And yes is the only word you know?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “wait no. No,” she scrunched her face up, covering her eyes with her hand, thankful he wasn’t physically with her in her moment of embarrassment. Though if Harry was here again, she would’ve found a way to embarrass herself even more. “How did you even get my number?”

“Your passcode isn’t really that hard to guess,” she scoffed, he breathed out another laugh. Is it possible to tattoo someone's voice onto your body? “Fifteen-fifteen, real creative.”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the wide smile that was begging to stretch the skin of her cheeks. “Is snooping through my phone how you found my schedule?”

“Maybe,” he teased. Her smile was too strong, breaking across her face while her cheeks ached from how wide it was. “Get some sleep, y/n. Let me know when you wake in the morning, please.”

“I will, Harry, thank you.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Reluctantly, she pressed the red button on the bottom of the screen, a giddy feeling in her veins. She stood from her position on the floor, and laid on her stomach on her bed, her feet kicking in the air as Harry’s name played on repeat in her brain. She smushed her face into her duvet and squealed, kicking her feet as fast as they could go. She couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow. 

Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry. 

She loved the way his name played on repeat in her mind while she got ready for bed. 

She loved the way her name rolled off his tongue and fell asleep while it played on repeat; her new favorite song. She just wished she could physically listen to it at that moment. 

+++

Harry:

Call me when you’re awake. 

Y/n stared at the message for nearly twenty minutes, rereading the five words over and over again, but somehow couldn’t manage to respond or call. She even had her read receipts on, so if Harry did check the message he sent, he absolutely would’ve known she was awake. But she still couldn’t bring herself to reply and she definitely was not going to be calling him; she knew he’d call her if he noticed she had read it, she would just wait for the call from him and take his degradation with a giddy little smile. 

When more minutes passed, she hovered her thumb over his contact icon at the top of the screen. What was she even gonna say? Why did he want her to call him? Why did he make her so nervous all the damn time? Even thinking about talking to him made her anxiety spike. Even thinking about hearing his voice say her name again rendered her thoughtless. And so her thumb stayed hovered over the little icon at the top, still not daring to make an actual move. She wondered why he hadn’t called her yet. 

Huffing out a groan, she turned off the screen and set her phone beside her, deciding that, instead of dwelling in her anxiety, she would make a little cup of coffee. When she had the time, she would make an oat milk chai tea latte, with extra, extra cinnamon on the bottom and top. Iced, of course. Even in the dead of winter, she’d rather have a cold drink over hot, claiming the hot lattes would give her a tummy ache but somehow teas were fine year round. As soon as she rose from her squeaky bed, her phone began vibrating from somewhere in the sheets. In a panic, she tore her bed apart, pulling the comforter off completely before throwing it to the floor. 

“Please god don’t let it go to voicemail, please please please,” she felt around for her phone in a frenzy. How was it so easy to lose when she literally had it in her hand two seconds ago? And, of course he would call as soon as she got out of bed, he would do that. “Yes!” she shouted once she found it underneath her pillow, but, with her luck, it went to voicemail. 

Phone:

Harry Missed call

Harry:

Call me.

Harry:

Now. 

Oh, he was pissed. She knew she was in for it. She tapped on the missed call notification and held it up to her ear. He picked up immediately. 

“You don’t know how to answer a phone, y/n?” 

“I do, I just misplaced my phone, I’m sorry,” she pouted, and even though he wasn’t with her, he could see her sad little puppy dog face within her tone. 

He sighed into his speaker, “you’re infuriating, you know that?” she frowned. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. He made her feel so small; sometimes in the worst way. 

“Don’t be, little lamb, I’m only teasing,” little lamb.

She’s convinced she died. She’s convinced she actually died and is dead and is in heaven. He killed her, she’s sure. 

“Did you call me to be mean to me?” she pulled her lips into her mouth, concealing a smile. 

He laughed, her heart stopped, “well, that’s one of the reasons,” he chuckled, “do you need to go anywhere today, I can send Jax to get you.”

“Mmm,” she thought for a moment, “I may have to do grocery shopping but it’s not, like, dire or anything,” she shrugged. 

“That’s it?”

She nodded, “well, yeah. I don’t really do much on my days off.”

She heard shuffling in the back, “you don’t get bored?” 

“Sometimes, but I like having time to myself like this. I’ll have to clean today, though, so that'll keep me occupied. I might bake something if I have the time.” 

“Mm, what’ll you bake if you have the time?” every noise, every word he lets out makes her heart flutter. 

“I have some old bananas in the fridge so I’m thinking maybe a banana bread with chocolate chips. I wanna try to make cinnamon rolls again but I’m too lazy to wait for the dough to rise,” his laugh echoed through the speaker.  

“If you do decide to bake some, could you possibly make enough for me?” Yes. Yes. She would bake anything ever if he’d ask. She’d do anything. 

“Yeah, I can make enough for you,” she grinned. 

Then, the switch flipped. 

“Let me know if you need Jax to get you. Have a good day, y/n,” and he hung up. 

A frown replaced her beaming smile, her face contorting in confusion. She’d done it again. She doesn’t know what, but she knew she had done something to upset him again. 

Y/n practically had no choice but to stay in bed for the rest of the day. The life drained out of her once again. Her head pounded from the lack of caffeine in her system and her stomach ached from lack of food. 

Baking was off the table. Cleaning was unattainable. Her tv played in the back while she stared at the wall. 

She hated how she grew attached to people so easily. She hated how badly she wanted him to call her again. She hated how badly she wanted to hear his voice. She hated how much she just wanted to be called little lamb again and kissed on the forehead while he held her. It would never happen, though, but she wanted it to happen. So badly. 

She yearned for him the rest of the day. 

+++

It was dark by the time she finally got out of bed, leaving the warmth of her comfortable position from which she dwelled on her sadness. The recent time change was not helping her emote properly as it got darker earlier now, and was probably only around 5:30 when she finally made the decision to get up. She winced when her feet touched her freezing hardwood flooring, and made her way to the kitchen. Opening up the fridge, she could’ve sworn that a little fly flew out, as there was nothing but old, browned bananas and plenty of apple juice. She wished she had the courage to text Harry and asked if Jax could take her to the grocery store. Banana bread with chocolate chips sounded so good right now. 

If she had the money to spare, she could order some pizza, but, of course with the money she makes and the expenses of her apartment, she doesn’t. So instead, she’ll walk to the 24 hour liquor store down the street and buy a bag of chips and a bottle of wine. Getting drunk and watching Brokeback Mountain sounded like the best idea (it wasn’t).

She pulled a different sweater over her head and replaced her sleeping pair of sweatpants with a pair of outside sweatpants (there’s a difference!). Picking up her bag and keys, she headed out the door locking it behind her. 

“Where are you going?” she jumped, dropping her keys from her hand. Piercing green eyes looked through her. 

“What are you doing here?” she had to look away, she couldn’t maintain eye contact with Harry. Especially when he’s wearing a navy blue suit with the sleeves rolled up.

“I asked you a question, y/n. I expect an answer,” he stepped to her, looking down at her when she couldn’t even look at him.

“I,” she sighed, tears welling in her eyes again. “I just wanted a snack so I was just gonna walk to the store, it’s not far.”

“Get inside,” she looked up at him, he noticed her pained expression, an unfamiliar ache in his chest. “Please,” he sighed, “please y/n just, just get inside.”

She turned, picked up her keys from the floor and unlocked the door, him following behind her. It reminded her of the other night, but this time she was prepared for him to leave angry again. This time, she wouldn’t let him touch her cheek or be sweet to her. She sat on her bed, her head hung low. 

“You didn’t make banana bread?” she shook her head. “Oh.” she muttered something he couldn’t make out and sighed in response, “I don’t understand mumbling, y/n, I’ve told you this.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she still didn’t look at him. 

He smiled at her even though she wasn’t looking, “just came to collect my banana bread but I’ve been let down,” he tried to joke with her. 

“Sorry.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair and went to sit next to her on the bed. Still, she wouldn’t look at him. “What’s wrong little lamb?”

She hated that he called her that. Hated that he was so hot and cold with her. She wished he had never come into the diner. Wished that stupid boy never waited for her outside. 

“Nothing, ‘m just tired,” she lied, crossing her arms over her chest. He stared at her for a beat. 

“Do you still want a snack?” she shook her head. “What have you eaten?” she mumbled out a ‘nothing’ loud enough for him to hear and he ignored the fact that she mumbled against his wishes. “Gotta get some food in ya, little lamb.”

“Stop calling me that,” she loved the nickname, but hearing it in that moment was too much for her. She longed for him to call her that all day, it crushed her thinking that he was only calling her that out of pity now. 

“Why?”

“Don’t like it,” she lied, again, but she wouldn’t admit that she loved it. She wouldn’t admit it was her favorite sound. 

“Oh okay, I’m sorry then, I’ll stop,” but he really didn’t want to. He wanted to call her his little lamb and stare into her doe like eyes and kiss her pink lips until his lungs gave out. And much like her, he’d never admit it. “But we still gotta get you something li-.” he stopped himself before it could slip from his lips. “Can order you something, anything you’d like,” still stubborn she shook her head. “Y/n please, let me order you something. You need to eat,” he reached up to push her hair behind her ear but she pulled away. He pulled his hand back, the unrecognizable ache deepened. 

“ ‘M not hungry.”

“Fine. Go ‘head and pout all night. Fine by me,” he got off the bed and approached the door, hoping it would get her to say something, anything, to get him to stay. But she said nothing. His hand lingered on the doorknob.

“Bye,” was all she said. But he still wouldn’t leave. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, exhaling through his mouth, turned around and walked over to y/n. 

He crouched down below her, his hands on her knees. “Please, please just look at me.”

Her hair covered her face, his hands begged him to push it out of the way so he could look into her irises, having never seen any such a beautiful color. 

Finally, she looked at him. Her face flushed with watery eyes and a bright pink nose. Tentatively, he reached up, his thumb wiping away a stray tear that managed to escape, before resuming their place on her knees. “Can you please tell me why you’re crying? Please.”

She breathed in and gulped. “You make me feel small,” her lips quivered. “You’re so,” she looked around, trying to organize her thoughts enough to create a coherent sentence. “You’re so hot and cold. This morning, on the phone, at first you were so kind and then you just weren’t,” she looked away from him, picking at the peeling skin around her nails. “You keep leaving like you’re angry and I don’t think you like me very much but you keep coming back and it’s just so confusing.” 

“I’m so sorry, little lamb. I just, I,” he was at a loss for words, not knowing how to properly express his feelings. 

“You just what, Harry?” she looked down at him, silently begging him to explain himself. They’ve only known each other for two days but he’s captivated her, so enchanted by the mere fact that he’s here before her; that he’s real. 

“I don’t know,” he said in a low tone, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too.”

He removed his hands from her knees, getting up to make his way to the door. He didn’t hesitate this time though, he opened it up, the chill of the autumn breeze passing by him and entering the space. He wanted so badly for her to ask him to stay, but he felt even if she did, she wouldn’t have meant it. That hurt the most. 

The door closed behind him, y/n was quick to get up and lock it. She went to lay in her bed again, her face contorting with pain, a sob escaping her lips as her head hit the pillow. Her phone vibrated next to her. 

Harry:

Contact: Jax D. 

In case you need to go anywhere. 

She wouldn’t reply. And she wouldn’t see or speak to Harry for nearly a month. 

But she’d think about him everyday. From the moment she’d wake up to the moment she’d fall asleep.

crying in the light of the TV static

tags: @tiaamberxx

[tomomiisasleep]

notes on Harryanthe which I am crazy about, in HtN

this dumb little interaction just stuck with me. I mean they're almost always high-strung in the detailed plot, like in almost every one of the Ianthe-centered scenes one of them is in some kind of pain

but I know they have chill moments. mundane moments. petty arguments, like the one in the post scrips of the letter. And I so badly want to read those!!

anyways. I'm gonna start collecting scraps here.

you might have given Ianthe Tridentarius the pleasure of opening the note labelled Upon the death of Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Your only hope for that note was that it contained a single sentence along the lines of, Get what joy you can from my corpse, you devious bitch, but it was written by a previous self and you could not risk a guess.

Harrow: what if I didnt hate her and that makes me wanna have a lobotomy yeah that makes sense

Once, vilely, from Ianthe; she had ensconced you in fat and rolled you down the hallway out of danger, and still laughed whenever she thought about it.

ok this is just Ianthe being a little pest, but it also means that she talks about this and laughs in Harrow's face, which makes her a little bitch, but also like it means they often chat and Ianthe would be like: Yeah today I tried the theorem on apples again, but I tweaked it by directing the flow of thalergy from- hey Harry do u remember the time I saved your life hahahahahaha

The mockery you endured for needing her proximity was exquisitely painful, but humiliation was steadily becoming your existence whole and entire.

I want to know what exactly this mockery entails

It had been very nicely matched to the original until she had ceased using it altogether, and the difference was more pronounced each day. Unconscious of your critical eye, she scratched fretfully at the line until red hives appeared.

Ianthe squirming under Harrow's gaze for once

She was in a filthy mood, if she was wearing that thing, with her arm exposed.

Harrow has been keeping tabs on the state of her arm problem ever since she first woke up on the Erobos. Same as how Ianthe has been keeping tabs on the results of her lobotomy.

she said, blue eyed, those oily little freckles glittering almost pinkly above the dress. They reflected the red rims of her eyelids. You thought that she had been crying.

yeah stare at her eyelids Harrow, and sniff her discreetly all the time, sweat musk vetiver am I right (also have I expressed how crazy it drives me that she wears masculine perfume??????????? no well IT'S SO *faints*

You got better autopsies of her encounters with Beasts than you did from your own, as Augustine was wont to explain significantly more to her than either he or Mercy did to you.

Ugh why why why in this whole book I have not seen them talk shop with each other even once??? Except Harrow showing off after making the arm. Harrow has discussions with Pal all the time in GtN. clearly she trades notes on necromancy with Ianthe frequently. but no, gloss over Ianthe's intellect and just write her freak(fond) moments

You had once been fool enough to recommend that Ianthe take them down, at which point she had rustled up another from the bathroom and hung it in pride of place above an overpainted dresser.

love her

“Oh, heaps,” said Ianthe, who appeared not to have taken offence at your rejection. It was so impossible to tell, with Ianthe. “I made it. It’s vile.”

Maybe she really doesn't care about the rejection or even likes it, but "so impossible to tell" kinda hints that, well she might be hurt,maybe, there just isn't any proof

It was not a connection formed of any mutual admiration; if anything, the more you saw of Ianthe the less likely you were to mistake her for likeable. She made herself like an overdecorated cake: covered so thickly in icing and fondants and gums that it would take serious excavation to find any bread. As a necromancer she was a genius, though you thought she relied too much on shortcuts and circumventions. She had an exceptionally fine mind. She was not afraid of rigour.

If Harrow doesn't have the hots for her at least I do.

Honestly on my first read I took stuff like "not likeable" and "“Tell me to stop breathing,” she said. (“I have, on multiple occasions,” you said.)" at face value and actually thought Harrow genuinely hates her and is forced to interact with her because there's no one else. Which is true. But she's also very attracted to her and I kinda overlooked it at because I thought those feelings were mutually exclusive. And they're not. which I'm obsessed with.

Or she won't think Ianthe's beautiful and note details about how she dresses all the time.

Seriously Harrow's special fixation on "how Ianthe's clothes make her look" is hard to ignore.

for example:

The mother-of-pearl made Ianthe’s hair a lurid yellow and threw up all the mustard tints of her skin; her face was blotchy, and her eyes were sleepless pits. She looked like shit.

The skirts and waists were all beautifully cut for someone of a different height and body type than Ianthe possessed. They were tight where they should have been loose and loose where they should have been tight. They looked like her burial clothes, and she looked as though she had emerged fifty years after that burial.

she answered after a long, scuffling minute, with sleep in her eyes and her hair in dilute whey tangles over her neck and shoulders, wearing a bewildering short garment of violet chiffon.

The back was open, and you could see the fine dents of her spine—her bleached skin bluer and sweeter against the pallid gossamer—and the twin blades of her shoulder blades looked strangely nude and vulnerable to you.

Ianthe was training in her nightgown—a grisly floor-length concoction of pale golden lace that made her long, limber body look like a green-veined mummy

a lone wax figure in pale purple chiffon, tall and colourless—except in the greasy metal of her bone arm, which the lights rendered all the colours of the rainbow.

Ianthe rose soundlessly to her feet, and the long skirts of her nightgown—a brilliant ruffled canary-yellow silk that made her look like a formal lemon—rustled restively around her calves.

Note that Harrow focuses on Ianthe's clothes for how they shape Ianthe's appearance. in contrast:

she ignored your sister, whose pallid eyebrows had shot up so fast and so far that they were in danger of breaking the atmosphere. Mercymorn wore a long slip of peach-coloured silk, and her white Canaanite robe was tucked over her forearms and had slipped entirely off her slender, aggrieved shoulders. She had scraped her hair into a merciless and shining coil at the back of her head, and she had no eyes for either of you.

Obviously Mercy is SUPER HOT here, if Ianthe's reaction means anything. But Harrow only describes her clothing and not how she looks. Same with Augustine's party outfit.

With Ianthe, it's always: she's wearing ..., which makes her look gross. And I did not understand at first but now I know and feel stongly that Harrow is totally into her gross-hotness. well at least I am. the grosser she's described the hotter she is.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 7

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

When Peter returns, he’s not alone. You stand, feeling gangly as you hunch, as he introduces his friend; Ned. You offer a tense smile and your name. He’s friendly, like Peter, but still a stranger.

“Yo, Pete,” Ned approaches the TV, “why are we not racing for the mushroom cup right now?”

“Ned,” Peter drones.

“He’s a sore loser,” Ned scoffs as he grabs two colourful shapes; one red, another blue. As he nears, he holds one out to you. The buttons on it suggest some sort of controller. “So, how about it, you ready to dethrone the champ?”

“Take it easy on her, Ned,” Peter slides a tray of crackers and cheese between the bowls of chips.

“I’m sure she’s not half as bad as you.”

“Um, I never…” you take the controller and rub your lips together, “I’ve never played… actually.”

“Ah, a noob, no worries then,” Ned plops down on the couch, “we’ll play easy.”

“Oh, uh, okay, I guess, but er…” you look around, “if Peter wants to play–”

“Actually, I need to listen for the door,” Peter counters.

“Right,” you turn back to the TV and sit. You thumb the stick and examine the buttons as the loud music erupts from the speakers.

“So this one you can steer, or you can tilt the controller,” Ned explains, and you press this button to go…”

You try to keep track but you’re not too sure. It seems pretty intuitive. You think.

A new screen comes up and there’s an array of characters to choose from. You choose the princess in the yellow dress over the dinosaur. You wait for the first track to load as your hands sweat around the controller.

The first lap has you veering and crashing but on the second you get a handle of it. It’s not as hard as it seems. Your usual clumsiness doesn’t translate to the digital. You come in fifth. Not as bad as it could be.

As you wait for the second race, voices carry from behind you. You turn as two girls and a guy enter. Ned peeks over, “hey.”

“Hi,” one of the girls chimes back as she approaches, “oh, you must be the one Peter mentioned. I’m Gwen,” she announces, “MJ,” she points over her shoulder, “and Harry.”

“Oh, okay,” you stand again, awkwardly swaying on your long legs, “do you wanna play?”

“We can wait,” she assures, “actually, we’re going to check out the snacks.”

“Right, uh, nice to meet you,” you murmur and sit back down.

Ned asks if you’re ready and you nod. He hits a button and a new race begins. You’re silent as you focus on staying on the road.

“I’m no good at parties either,” he says suddenly, “not that this is much of one. Peter’s not exactly the cool guy.”

“Right, er, it’s… just a lot of strangers.”

“Relax,” Ned says, “I’m gonna get you good. You’re gonna beat them all.”

You laugh, a bit less nervous as he keeps it light, “yeah, I… I’ll try.”

“Pizza,” Peter’s voice punctures the din.

“Finally,” Ned groans but keeps playing, “save me a slice of deluxe.”

The savoury, greasy scent permeates the room almost instantaneously. Your stomach roars but you focus on the screen. You bump another character out of the way as you squint. You’re almost done the last lap.

“Hey,” Ned says, “that was me.”

“Oh, sorry,” you utter as you cross the finish line.

“Woo, first place,” he nudges you lightly, “see, you’re a natural.” He stands as your stomach continues to gurgle, “I’ve trained you well, young padawan.”

“Um,” you furrow your brows.

“Right, not a Star Wars fan, noted,” he smirks, “anyways, I’m starving. How about we feed that dragon in your belly?”

You look down, embarrassed.

“I’m okay,” you say.

“There’s plenty to go around, better get it while it’s hot,” he insists and leaves the controller on the armrest.

You reach over to do the same but stay seated. Your stomach really hurts and your head is starting to pulse. You should eat but you just feel… out of place. Like you shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong and you don’t deserve to share all this nice food.

“Hey, you like cheese,” Peter sits beside you, “got double.”

He holds two plates, hovering one before you.

“Oh, you didn’t have to…”

“You can always switch up if you want pepperoni,” he holds the plate before your nose. You salivate. You can’t hold out any longer.

“Thanks,” you accept the plate, nearly shaking as dizziness swirls in your head.

“No problem,” he sets his plate in his lap and lifts the first slice.

You mirror him and take a small bite of the end. You chew slowly, trying not to betray how your stomach clenches violently. You could devour the slice in a single bite but you don’t want them to judge you. You continue with measured nibbles.

“If you don’t like pizza…”

“No, I do,” you assure him. “Thanks, it’s really good.”

“Well, next time, I’ll make sure to get your fave toppings. You like mushrooms? Oh, don’t tell me you’re an anchovies girl.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t… had that,” you shake your head as you pick at the crust.

“Or maybe you’re more into hamburgers? Oh, how about pasta? Sushi?”

“No, no, I like pizza,” you assure him.

“Well, you can help yourself, there’ll be lots of leftovers, I’m sure,” he stands up, his plate empty as you break the crust of your first in half, “you need more water?”

“No thanks,” you focus on your plate.

“Be right back,” he promises and shuffles away.

“So,” the girl named MJ comes around, chewing while she talks. You look up at her and put the crust down. “You and Peter, how long have you been together?”

“Pardon? Together? Oh, I only just met him a few weeks ago–”

“You two must be getting serious,” she says, “you’re a cute couple.”

“What?” Your heart hammers. “No, I–”

“You know,” Gwen approaches, “just like Peter to spring a girlfriend on us without warning.”

Your mouth opens and you blink dumbly. They think you and Peter are together?

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you say.

“Oh, ha, sorry, no labels,” MJ winks, “it’s only what he told us.”

“He said that?”

“To be honest, when we saw you, we didn’t believe him,” Gwen snickers.

You swallow and stand up. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say a word. You take your plate to the table and put it down. You grab a paper towel from the roll and wipe your fingers off as you head for the stairs. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life. 

They couldn’t believe Peter would be with someone like you. They’re right to doubt that but it still stings. Just as always, you’re not good enough.

[goldenbuckyyy]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

Summary: You and Harry have a secret affair.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader (cheating together) Main characters x original characters.

Word Count: 4.5kish

Warnings: Cheating (Harry and Reader together), raw sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, slight dirty talk, undertones of dom!Harry if you squint, anything else? Let me know!

A/N: I’ve had this idea brewing in my head for a while now, had about maybe 500 words written, and then decided to finish it last night. And I love the way it came out. Hopefully you do as well!! Song inspiration: “Illicit affairs” by Taylor Swift.

Also thank you for 500 followers. 🥹🫶🏻 Thank you all for showing me so much love!! 💓

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Masterlist

You knew you shouldn’t have come. 

You fidgeted in your seat, trying not to overthink about the situation as you feel the back of your neck start to sweat, you mumble a cuss word as you take a peak at yourself in your compact mirror, and let out a stiff sigh. 

You adjust the top of your satin orange dress. You fell in love with this dress the moment you saw it at the shops. It was a different color than you were used to wearing, but it looked lovely on you. It had semi-thick straps to hold your breasts up nicely, a corset style on the waist that hugged your curves, it cut down up to your shin, and flowed beautifully. 

You admit you wanted to look good today. And you did. You felt stunning. 

You feel your fiancée’s arm wrap around your shoulders, trying your best not to flinch at his touch, because his touch isn’t the one you want. 

But you can’t have the other. 

“Geez, you’re freezing!” He exclaims in his full blown American accent, rubbing your shoulders with his warm hands as he places his lips on your forehead lightly.

You laugh, “Bloody church is so damn cold.” You give him a smile, leaning yourself into his embrace, as you both watch the people around you fill the seats. 

You look up at him, guilt pooling into your belly, and you give him a small smile. 

Feeling guilty for loving him and for loving Harry. For loving them both. 

Your fiancée isn’t a bad man. No, never bad. Has never been bad. You don’t think he has one bad bone in his body.

He was the sweet, golden, all American boy. He is a wonderful man and isn’t rough on the eyes either. 

He’s tall like Harry, maybe an inch or two shorter, bright ocean blue eyes, chiseled jawline, tanned skin from all your beach trips, blonde hair that is styled to his liking, but you love when it’s freshly washed and falls down his forehead. 

He’s a beautiful man. You loved him so much, you had been dating him for two years now, but yet… a part of you was in love with Harry. 

Your first love. You dated Harry before he went to X-Factor, way before that, you were in an established relationship with him. You both had kissed other people before you got together. But nothing ever went farther. 

You got together and it was as if the world suddenly made sense. You fell in love with Harry so fast and it was everything a teenage relationship could be. Then it grew into something stronger, more passionate, and stronger as you both got older. 

You were each other’s firsts, taking the time to find out what made you squirm, and what made you cum the hardest. 

You were with him through X-Factor, his one direction days, even during his first album. 

But then… things happened. Life changed between you two. You both had never been with anybody new. Nobody different. You had broken up on good terms back in 2017. You promised that if it didn’t work out with anybody else, you’d come back to each other somehow. 

That didn’t happen. 

You dated a few different people, some amazing, and some assholes. Harry did the same. You both kept communication with each other, that never faltered. 

Harry released his second album in 2019, a few songs about you that he never wanted to admit, and when you were both single at the same time… you’d end up in the same bed. 

Nothing more. 

2020 happened and you felt tired of the same routine. You wanted something more. You wanted a family. You were going to speak to Harry about what you felt and how you wanted this with him. 

Then… you met Asher. 

It was like a movie. You were texting Harry, walking down the NYC streets to your apartment, not paying attention to your surroundings, when you bumped into Asher, who caught you before you hit the floor, and you remember the feeling of when you first laid your eyes on him. 

You remember your heart fluttering in your chest at this blue eyed man with a wicked smile. He literally swept you off your feet. Long forgotten the text you were typing to Harry about meeting up the same day. 

Instead, you went for a coffee date with Asher. Your belly was hurting that night from all the laughter you shared together. 

He was amazing with a sense of humor so insane, he kept you laughing all day. You have been wrapped around his finger since day one. Now it’s been two wonderful years with him. 

That’s why when Harry reached out to you six months ago, while Asher was away on business, you hesitated. 

You remember staring at the phone, rereading his text message, and biting your lip in thought. 

“Can we meet up tonight? I really want to see you xx” said the text. You were already out and about in the London streets with your girlfriends. Having moved back to your home country with Asher. You were buzzing with liquid courage and replied, “Yeah. Where are you? xx” 

He had sent you the address to his secret London hotel and suddenly, there you were outside the baby blue door. 

Harry had opened the door, messy brown curls, a bewildered look on his face, and wearing only black shorts. 

You stared at each other. Hadn’t seen each other in almost a year. Not since you had dinner at some fancy restaurant in LA when you both had managed to be in the same city for once. There were a lot of lingering touches and twinkling eyes that night in a secluded booth. 

Nothing happened that night. But that was a year ago. 

You with Asher and him with Vivian. Vivian was a model, she was stunning, and you swore you weren’t jealous of her.

“I’m getting married,” he says, his eyes dropping to your lips. 

“Asher proposed,” you reply, your heart racing, and lips parting. 

His eyes leave your face, taking in your red mini dress, your bare thighs, and suddenly you’re in a passionate kiss. 

The night is filled with kissing, touching, fingers everywhere, tongue in places you love, positions he loves to see you in, and countless orgasms. 

That was six months ago and that night ran through your thoughts endlessly. The way his hands touched you that night made you feel on fire, the way his kisses felt as if it was what you had been missing, and the way he felt inside of you… it made you feel whole. 

You snap out of your thoughts when Asher pinches your exposed thigh. 

“It’s staring,” he whispers as you both stand up when the bridal music starts playing. Asher moves you to be in front of him to see the bride better and you instantly tear you when you see her. 

Your heart feels heavy as you watch Gemma walk down the aisle in her beautiful wedding dress with Harry walking beside her, her arm wrapped around his, and tears in her eyes as she watches all the people she loves here for her today. 

Her handsome husband to be, Michal, waiting for her at the end with a breathtaking smile and looking starstruck. 

Harry kisses her cheek as he hands her to Michal at the end, wiping a quick tear away from her cheeks, and you can see the whispered “I love you”. 

Harry moves to stand in the empty seat in the front row, a few rows in front of you, but across the aisle and Vivian wraps her arm around his. 

She looks beautiful. Her long blonde hair falling down her exposed back in ringlets, her tanned skin glimmering underneath the lights, and her perfect body in a long baby pink dress with a slit to show off her never ending legs. You hate the way your gut fills with jealousy. 

But Harry doesn’t look down at her. 

Instead, he slowly tilts his head to the side as the bride and groom exchange vows, while the whole crowd is watching them, and he’s looking for you. 

You glance up at Asher who’s staring at the couple with a big smile. You look back at Harry and his eyes are already on you. 

He smirks, his eyes taking in your outfit, and his expression darkens. He winks at you when you both make eye contact and you blush under his stare. 

You quickly look away from him when you feel Asher wrapping his arm around your waist, on instinct you lean your body back into his, and jump when you feel how hard he is against you. 

Your eyes go wide as he leans down to you and whispers, “I can’t wait to fuck you in your wedding dress.”

“Asher!” You whisper at him with a gaping mouth, but a smile nonetheless. 

Your sex life with Asher was anything but boring. It was never boring with him. 

He was just like Harry in the way that he was a giving lover. He’d rather give, give, give and then take. 

That’s why a part of you feels torn as to why you feel so happy with Asher. So content and lucky. But yet… when you’re with Harry, you feel whole. You feel as if he’s what you’re missing in your life. A part of you can’t let him go. 

You want to tear your heart out for feeling this way because it’s a constant battle with your brain. Because you know what you did was wrong. In so many ways. But somehow, you know you don’t regret what happened. 

You only wish for it to happen again. 

You proceed to sit down, crossing your leg over the other, and listen intently to the couple saying their vows. 

Your eyes glancing between the couple and to the back of the head of curls. The curls you love. The curls you can still feel underneath your fingertips when you’d tug on them. 

Your skin breaks out into goosebumps, Asher notices, and kisses your shoulder. “Gets you nervous too, huh?” He whispers into your ear. You nod without taking your eyes off the couple. He slips his hand into yours and you hold onto him to try to distract your mind from Harry. 

You have no idea how you’re going to make it through the night. 

It happened after midnight. 

You were already four drinks in, sipping on your fifth cocktail of the night, and standing up as you watched Asher dance with Anne with a big smile on your face. 

You feel someone pat your shoulder, you look over to see a young brunette waitress holding a folded up piece of paper, she hands it to you quickly with a smile, and goes back to serving drinks. 

You hum, holding your drink in your hand, and sprawling the note open. 

Meet me in the bridal room in 10 xx 

Your eyes widen as you crush the paper in your palm, eyes searching for him, and you still when you meet his own. 

Harry is standing across from you, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink, and he smirks at you. Vivian is at his side, laughing at something Gemma said, and without a single clue. 

You lick your lips, drown your drink in one gulp, and go to the dance floor to Asher. The song had just finished, Anne was laughing and waving at her face, and reached to you to kiss your cheek when she saw you. 

“He’s a gem, baby!” She says as she pinches Asher’s cheek and proceeds to walk away. 

You nod at her words, looking up at Asher, “I’m going to pop to the restroom, okay babe?“ 

He kisses your lips quickly, nodding, his eyes searching for something. “Go ahead, babe. Searching for my next dance victim.” 

You giggle as you watch him taunt off to one of Harry’s aunts, who immediately falls into Asher’s hold for the next song, and you search the room for Harry. 

Who had already left Vivian’s side. 

You start to walk off the dance floor when you feel someone catch your arm. 

You stop when you see Vivian holding onto you, you smile quickly, and she does the same. 

“You look beautiful, honey.” Her pink tinted lips expand to show her beautiful white teeth. Her posh southern English accent flowed out lavishly. 

You hold her hands in yours, “Don’t flatter me! You look breathtaking.” 

“Harry went off for a smoke, yuck.” She says with a childish grin and sticking out her tongue in disgust. 

“Gross habit, huh?” You joke as you try not to show how awkward you feel. 

“Has he invited you to the wedding yet? We set the date for October.” 

You nod your head, “Of course! I can't wait!” You lie through your teeth as she sighs happily and hugs you unexpectedly. 

You stumble in your heels, hugging her back, and patting her shoulders slightly. 

She hums in content in your arms, “I’m so happy we can be so civil with each other.” She pulls away and holds onto your elbows. “Especially with you and Harry’s history,” she whispers as if it’s some secret. 

You laugh and wave your hands at her, “Nonsense! But I do have to run, Viv. I have to freshen up.” 

She immediately lets you go, smiling, and she waves you off. Then she continues to go back to speaking to another group of guests. 

You stare at her for a second, second guessing your upcoming actions, but then proceed to go down the long hallway towards the bathrooms. 

You had no idea how to get to the bridal suite. You fumble with a door in the back, which leads you to a stairwell, you shiver with nerves, and start walking up the secluded stairs. 

You manage to get to the second floor, the music sounded muffled up here, and the carpet hid the sound of your heels. You walk slowly as you peer into the doors down the hallway. 

You suddenly feel a hand on your wrist, pulling you into a dark room, you let out a low gasp, and the door shuts quietly behind you. 

You're pushed against the door, the light flickers on, and Harry’s standing in front of you. You hear the lock click behind you. 

“What took you so long?” He says breathlessly, his big  hands falling onto the curves of your waist, pressing his hips against you, and you can already feel how hard he is against you. 

His gaze fixed on you, green eyes piercing into yours, and his hands caress your waist. 

You bite your bottom lip as you take him in, “Your fiancée did,” you reply bluntly. The alcohol flowing in your system makes you feel brave. 

He hums in response, but doesn’t falter at your comment. His eyes taking you in. 

“You look bloody fantastic,” he says as he places his hands on your cheeks and pulls you into a rough kiss. His hands on your face making your skin feel as if it’s on fire. Goosebumps erupt over your skin and you feel flushed already. 

You immediately wrap your hands around his shoulders, pulling him into you, and opening your mouth for him. Your tongue fighting against his, moaning into each other's mouths, his hands bundling up your dress higher and higher. His hand moving down to your core, he gasps when he feels you bare against him, his fingers touch your smooth and soaked core and his knees weaken. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re not wearing any pantries?” He asks in shock, his mouth open in a pant, you’re sucking his bottom lip, shaking your head, and hitching your hips to him so he can touch you. You can feel yourself throbbing and aching for him already. 

He slips a finger into your drenched folds, you moan in pleasure, feeling his cold fingers against your hot skin, he starts peppering your neck with open mouthed kisses, leaving a trail of saliva and licks on you. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he moans against your covered breasts, he slides down the straps of your dress, you help him, tugging down your dress to reveal your naked breasts, and he moans as he sees them. He immediately pulls one of your nipples into his mouth, his finger still working you open, he slips in a second finger, and you tilt your head back against the door in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” you mutter as your hands go into his gelled up hair, tugging at his curls knowing he loves it, and his fingers move faster in you. His thumb slips to touch your clit, you jump at the sensation, and he starts rubbing you. 

He slips another finger into you, curling them in, you let out a deep moan as he works up his speed, you move your leg to wrap around his waist to give him better access, and he continues to lick your breasts. Sucking each nipple into his mouth with pleasure. 

You’re already a panting mess underneath him as his fingers work you open, curling at the perfect angle, his thumb moving delicately at the right pace against your clit, getting you closer to your release, and he knows you're almost there. 

“Your pussy is fucking drenched for me,” he whispers, licking up your neck, pulling your lips into his as your leg thightens against him. 

You start moving your hips faster, knowing his cock must be aching right now, he hisses at the contact, increasing his speed, and you cry out in pleasure. 

“I’m close,” you say with a shaky breath. 

“Let go, baby. Come for me,” he growls into your ear, “Soak my fingers,” he demands. As soon as he speaks your body reacts to his words. Your entire body seizes with your release. 

You feel your entire body shaking against him, your wetness drenching his hand, down your thighs, and Harry continues to praise you. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

“So fucking good for me.” 

“You’re fucking mine.” 

“Such a good fucking girl,” he says as he manhandles your body towards the nearest surface. He slips his fingers out of you, you cry out at the emptiness, he shushes you, and lifts you up by your hips onto the bathroom countertop. 

He shoves your dress up to your waist as he starts unbuckling his belt. You take this time to admire him. His white button down shirt was buttoned down to reveal his butterfly tattoo, the sleeves were rolled up, his hair was disheveled by your touch, his skin was flushed, and his eyes were blown out in pleasure. 

You moan when you see him shove his pants down along with his underwear, his hard cock fumbling out, thick and throbbing. The tip of his cock red and angry, leaking precum. 

“I want you,” you moan at him with grabby hands. He pulls you into a kiss, licking the roof of your mouth, and he pulls away to align himself to your entrance. 

You both take a second to look at each other, staring into each other's eyes, and he enters you slowly. Your jaw falling slack as you feel him enter you. 

His cock spreads you open, slowly and tightly, never getting used to how huge he is. Your walls are burning around him, feeling him throbbing inside of you, you pull your legs to your side to allow him better access, one of his hands on your waist to hold you and the other against the bathroom mirror. 

He bottoms out inside of you, his public hair rubs against your bare core, you moan at feeling him so deep inside of you, and you wrap your arms around him. Pulling him closer to you as he starts to move. 

He starts off trusting into you slowly, letting you adjust to him, you can feel him so deep in you, both panting, he puts his free hand underneath your dress on your lower stomach, he moans when he feels himself there, “Fuck. Can you feel me here, baby?” 

His raspy breath is on you as you nod against him. You push your hips against his to show him how deep he is, his hand grips your naked thigh, “Fuck!” He curses out in a whisper. 

You clench your teeth together to stop yourself from being too loud, his thrusting becomes faster and more erratic, he allows himself to get lost in your pussy, feeling blissful and euphoric as he thrusts deeply into you. 

You kissed him frantically, savoring every second you have with him, his hands never stopped touching your skin, and he continued to thrust into you at a relentless pace. 

“Harry,” you moan out, “You’re so deep.” You cry out, your head tilting back against the mirror, and letting the feeling of pleasure overtake your body. 

“That’s it, sugar. Let the pleasure take over you,” Harry says slowly, letting his cock thrust into you, admiring the view underneath him, your chest heaving up and down, your nipples perked up and hard, and your skin flushed in a slight coat of sweat. 

You whine as you continue to roll your hips against him, “I’m close,” you whisper. Your hands moving to his shoulders, holding him in the right position, his hands moving down to grip your waist, allowing you to move on his cock as you wished. 

“Come with only my cock, Princess.” He demands, his lips swollen by your mouth, and you can only nod. Drunk off his cock. 

“I..” you start, feeling your release coming closer, “I’m almost there,” you whisper sweetly to him, you pull his face to yours, kissing him, and you feel yourself come undone underneath him. 

Your mouth falls open with moans, eyes squeezing shut, your walls clenching around his pulsating cock, and he continues to thrust into you. 

“That’s my good fucking girl,” Harry praises you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, he follows your release as he lets his orgasm take over him. He releases into you, his cock pumping his seed into you, your pussy clenching on him, and you both pull into each other. Lips wrapped together. 

“Fuck-such a good girl. Taking all of my babies,” he whispers into your mouth as your pussy continues to milk him dry. You both slow down, letting yourself come down your orgasms, and you smile when he peppers your face with kisses. 

He slips out of your sensitive pussy slowly, he walks over to the spare sink, wetting down a washcloth, he walks up to you, eyes never leaving yours, and he reaches down to clean you up slowly. 

You gasp at his touch, his finger slipping into your wet pussy, and he pushes in his sperm deeper inside of you. His eyes watching you drunkenly, “Filled to the brim with my babies.” 

You kiss his cheek when he pulls out, cleans you up nicely, and you slide off the counter. You adjust your dress, fixing your straps, and wiping away any makeup that got messed up. 

Harry is standing behind you as he watches your every move as he cleans himself up. He tucks himself back into his pants and zips himself up. He washes his hands, with a smirk on his lips, and you do the same. It’s quiet now. No more moans or cries or whines anymore. But it’s a calming silence around you. 

You both finish cleaning yourselves up. You turn to look at each other, eyes locking, hands intertwining, and you both lean into each other. His big palm on your cheek, lips brushing against yours, and he pulls your lips against his. 

Kissing slowly. 

His forehead leaning against yours, “Just say it.” 

The unspoken words he wants you to say. You know you can’t. Because you know the minute you say them, he'll do it. He'll leave Vivian without a second thought and you can’t bear the thought of you both breaking the hearts of people you love. 

But are you really doing any better? 

You’re still fucking Harry every chance you get. You just had sex with him with both of your fiancés downstairs.

“We can’t,” you whisper sadly, gripping his hand on your cheek, and you give him one last longing kiss. 

His lips reach for yours when you pull back, his thumb on your lips, his eyes open back up, and you give him a sad smile. 

“Let’s get back to them?” You ask. He nods and unlocks the door. 

“You go first,” he says. You can hear the hurt in his voice, but decide to not comment on it. Knowing what he will say. 

You grip his hand tightly then let go. You fix your dress one last time and give him one last look before heading back downstairs. 

You stop at the bar to get a drink to not look too suspicious before finding Asher. 

Your eyes move along the dance floor to see Vivian dancing with someone you don’t know and Asher is sitting at your table, talking to a friend, with a drink in his hand. 

He’s leaning against his chair, sipping his drink, and looking flushed from all his dancing. He notices you immediately and stands up when you reach him. 

His hands going to your shoulders, eyes worried, and you fake a pout. 

“You okay?” He asks, concerned. His puppy dog eyes wide with worry. 

You nod, kissing his cheek, and whisper,  “That lobster ravioli did not sit well with me.” He laughs at your comment and rubs your belly. 

This would be funny if it wasn’t so horrible. 

“Oh, baby.” He pouts at you and you both sit down. You sip on your drink as he continues his conversation with the person next to him. 

Your eyes catch Harry as he walks down the venue, buttoning his suit jacket in a swift motion, fixing his hair with his hand, and he cuts in with whoever is dancing with Vivian. He wraps his arms around her, her doing the same, and his eyes meet yours. 

He dances around the dance floor with her, but his beautiful green eyes never leave yours. 

You feel jealousy pull the pit of your stomach as you watch them. 

Asher notices the song playing, “Let’s dance, baby.” 

Before you can say anything, he’s pulling you up to your feet, you’d stumble to set your drink down, and you fall into his arms in a slow dance. 

His back is facing Harry, arms around each other, and you continue to dance together. 

But now in a slow song, your eyes never leave Harry’s. 

And you wish it was you in his arms. 

Harry wishes the same. 

But you both know it’ll never happen. No matter how badly you both want it. 

It’s an unspoken acknowledgement between you two. 

You wish things were different. 

You both do. 

[luvrlou]

What Happens in Mykonos Stays in Mykonos

Pairing: Wroetoshaw x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking

Summary: After a drunken night of clubbing Harry and Y/N exchange some intoxicated words.

A/N: Heart eyes for Harry

Word Count: 1.8k

"Harry and Cal are sleeping, and Y/N is watching a movie, I think?" Callum told his camera, this made me look up.

"I'm seeing how close we are to landing," I replied, Callum zooming his camera into me. "We're landing in about an hour and a half."

The man nodded, "we should probably wake up the boys, they'll want drinks before we get off." I agreed, going to wake up the boy on my left, Cal.

"Fuck off Callum!" He groaned, coming to his senses, "oh, hey Y/N!" He smiled seeing it was me waking up.

"Hello Cal," I replied.

"Here, what's this!" He chirped, looking at the drink on my table, "a cheeky malibu and pineapple juice, interesting." He observed, reaching to take a drink.

"Woah there! That's mine!" I replied, grabbing the cup before he could. I swiftly downed the drink, before muttering a snarky, get your own to the lanky boy.

I looked over to the end of the row to see Harry groggily talking to Callum. The plane was separated into rows of four, an aisle splitting them in half. I sat in the window seat, Cal in the seat next to me, Harry and Callum sat in the other side.

Before we knew it the flight attendant was back to cruising up and down the aisle with the drinks trolley. When she reached our row we all gave her a list of drinks, a Guinness for Callum, Malibu and pineapple juice for me, white wine for Cal and a vodka coke for Harry.

Since we were at the back of the plane the woman seemed to have all the time in the world, she handed the boys their drinks. While she handed me mine she spoke, "so what one of these lucky boys is your boyfriend?"

The question caused me to laugh, "none of them, I'm just an old friend!'

"Really?" She seemed extremely shocked by my answer, "I mean you're gorgeous how could they not be all over you!" Her comment made Callum laugh while Harry reddened.

"Awk thank you!" I smiled back at the attendant. She smiled back before walking back up the aisle.

"Did you see Harry's face!" Cal cackled, looking at the embarrassed boy at the end of the row.

"Shut up Cal!" He shouted back, sipping his vodka-infused drink. His clear irritation made me, Cal and Callum laugh between ourselves.

We spent the remaining hour or so on our phones, sparing a few words between the four of us every few minutes.

"This is your captain speaking, we will be touching the ground in about fifteen minutes, the weather is lovely so the landing should be smooth." The strong Scottish accent, which belonged to the captain, boomed over the speakers that lined the sides of the aircraft.

Much to my surprise, getting through the airport was extremely fast, I'm assuming everyone was in need of a cocktail. Luckily our villas were about twenty minutes in a taxi.

"Okay, who wants what villa?" Cal said, as we all arrived in front of the two villas.

"I call dibs on this one!" I shouted, running up to the door of the one on the left, "I saw on Booking.com that this one had a hot tub in it!"

"Oh yeah! I want that!" Callum exclaimed, joining me at the door.

"Okay, Harry and I will take this one," Cal concluded, walking towards the one on the right, Harry following.

Callum and I chose our rooms, despite them being almost exact parallels to each other. Mine had a king-sized bed with white and dark blue bed sheets, and a bathroom attached. It also had a large mirrored wardrobe and a small balcony with a deck chair.

"Y/N! Callum! We're going out soon!" Harry's voice echoed up through the white bricked stairwell.

I could hear Callum run downstairs, "I'll be like twenty minutes!" I shouted down.

I went over to my case looking for something nice to wear, I was thinking of a summer dress of some sort since I've been sweating buckets since I got here. I rummaged through my case, picking out a white lacy dress. I put it on and coated my eyelashes with some mascara and slipped my feet into a pair of wedge sandles.

"Coming!" I yelled as I approached the top of the stairs.

I jogged down the stairs, when I reached the boys they had just finished their cans of beer. "You look lovely Y/N," Harry commented as they all stood up.

"Aw thanks, Harry!" I gushed at the boy in front of me. "Right let us go! I need to get pished!" My statement received cheers from the boys.

We all ventured out of the villa complex and found a club which was about five minutes away. "What does everyone want to drink?" Callum asked.

"A piña colada please," I asked, the boys all asked for one too, sending Callum on his way. "I needed this getaway." I stated.

"Same, London is getting too stressful these days," Cal replied, causing Harry to hum in reply.

We all grinned thirstily when Callum came back with four piña coladas, we all grabbed one.

"To Mykonos, and Harry for suggesting this holiday!" Cal cheered lifting his cocktail. We all clinked glasses and took a sip out of them.

About four cocktails later we got up to leave, I could tell that Harry and Cal were on the tipsy side, surprisingly Callum and I were more on the sober side.

At the next club Cal immediately got up to get tequila shots from the bar, Callum's face was full of regret. "Getting flashbacks to the last time we did shots?" I laughed.

"Fuck off Y/N!" He groaned.

"Shots!" Cal bellowed, returning to the table with a tray of sixteen shots on it.

We all took four each and sat them in front of us. "Last to finish them buys the next round!" I challenged, picking up one of the shots.

I downed mine quickly, taking the next one as soon as the liquid slipped down my throat. "Harry! Drinks are on you!" Callum laughed, pushing him towards the bar.

"We'll all have margaritas, make sure they have limes on them!" Cal ordered.

When Harry returned we all started to drink our margaritas, "Y/N, what are the odds, out of ten, that you'll do body shots off of Harry!" Cal asked.

Harry's complexion instantly grew rosy, "okay." I agreed, waiting for Callum to count us in.

"3.. 2.. 1.." He counted.

"7!" We both shouted.

"Yes!" Cal and Callum shouted in unison, high-fiving each other. "We'll go get salt and a lime!"

"Are you okay with this Harry?" I asked the blonde boy next to me.

"Yeah," he hummed, "it's all a bit of fun, yeah."

When the boys returned they had massive smiles on their faces, Callum with a tub of salt, and Cal with a lime and a tequila shot. "Come here Harry," Callum said to the red-faced boy.

Callum dipped his finger in his margarita and put some salt on it, rubbing the salt and sticking it to Harry's neck. Cal handed him the lime and sat the shot on the table.

"Have fun Y/N!" Cal drunkenly giggled. I made eye contact with the boy and went to lick the salt off his neck. I downed the shot, receiving whistles and cheers from the two boys. Lastly, I took the lime from Harry's mouth.

"Look at Harry!" Callum yelled, making me burst out laughing and remove the lime from my mouth.

"Sorry, Harry," I smiled softly, kissing his cheek chastely.

We got one last round of shots, this time they were Sambuca shots. "Come on, I need some chips," I announced. The boys all hummed i agreement.

Luckily, there was a street food shop down the street from the club we were sitting in.

"Excuse me," Harry asked the man who as behind the counter, "do you guys do just chips?"

"Yes." The man answered.

"Can we have four portions, please," He asked, the man nodded in return.

"Where's Freezy?" I asked, looking for my lanky companion.

As if on cue the blonde boy entered the restaurant, a bottle of white wine in his hand, making me grin wildly.

"God bless you Cal Freezy!" I beam, running over to him, stumbling drunkenly. He handed me the bottle letting me take a swig before snatching it back.

Cal and I sat up at the high window tables, swapping the wine between us, waiting for Callum and Harry to arrive with the chips.

When they came over they chucked the styrofoam boxes of chips down on the table and flung themselves onto the chairs. I smiled when I felt Harry drop his head onto my shoulder.

"You can have the last of the wine," Cal mumbled, handing me the bottle. I quickly downed it before digging into my chips.

"Are we going to head back to the villas after this?" Callum inquired, finishing his chips.

"Nah, I want to stay out!" I argued back.

"I'm going back after," Cal stated, clearly having had too much to drink.

"I'll stay out Y/N!" Harry answered, which made me cheer with happiness and embrace him tightly.

After eating we went our separate ways, Callum and Cal went back to the villa complex. Harry and I went further into the area we were staying, looking for yet another club.

After about 10 minutes of walking, we came across another brightly lit nightclub, we both entered, going straight up to the bar. I ordered a pink gin and Harry ordered a vodka and lemonade.

After drinking both of our drinks we got onto the dance floor. Wrapping my arms around his neck we swayed together to the music, one of his arms draped over my waist.

"You look beautiful tonight Y/N," he mumbled, his face extremely close to mine.

I could feel his hot breath fan over my face. "You're just saying that because you're drunk." I whispered.

"No Y/N, I've always thought this, I think I'm falling in love with you," his drunken voice raved.

I was speechless, the only thing I could think to do was kiss his soft lips. Our mouths tasted of straight alcohol as they fought against each other. When we leaned back he sent me a goofy smile.

"I think I'm falling in love with you too."

"Let's take this back to the villa, yeah?" He asked, leading me off the dance floor.

"Fuck yeah!" I giggled following him out of the venue.

"What.. the.. fuck." Cal's shocked voice echoed through the now lit-up room, I looked up and around the room. It was Harry's room, the flashbacks from the night before started to fill my once hazy memory.

"Oh shit!" I shrieked, waking up Harry, who had an equally shocked expression.

"Fucking hell! Callum will love this!" Cal burst out laughing, cackling as he left the room.

[dracoxmalereader]

Perhaps a Draco x Hufflepuff Reader?

Hufflepuffs are known for their kindness, so what happens when during a DADA class about Boggarts has Draco using the counterattack on the reader's boggart while reader is frozen with fear?

The reader's deepest fear is of themselves, a dark mark upon their arm, and their wand raised with the red glow of "Crucio"

Mirrored Wardrobe

Draco x Male Reader

Context: It's mostly based on the movie scene, and for this story the reader is stood in line between Parvati and Harry.

Summary: You've been dreading the boggart lesson since you heard through the grapevine it was on the curriculum. Here, in Lupin's classroom, you're not so sure if it was really as bad as you'd feared.

Word Count: 1,106

Lupin sent the lot of the class to sort themselves into line, and you briefly locked eyes with Draco as he shoved past Neville.

Shoes tapped against the floor, echoing in the air of the large classroom. You settled into place. Observing, you felt anxiety pulse in your chest. The sound of the boggart changing forms replaced the sound of chatter as first Ron, then Parvati Patil approached it. 

At the front of the line, you fiddled with the sleeves of your robe at the crack of the monster’s transformation. There it stood: a tall snake that couldn’t have been shorter than twenty feet. 

It bobbed menacingly, baring its fangs and its flickering tongue. It slithered, chest puffed out and head dipping down from where it nearly touched the ceiling to hiss at Parvati. Gasps rang out through the room, just as horrified as they’d been when Ron had the thing turn to a massive spider.

Parvati’s hand tightened at her side around her wand, and she bravely raised it to the reptile, yelping the counter charm. Another pop whipped through the air. 

A clown, just as big as the snake had been, sprang upwards in its place. It bounced and bobbled and the spring that held it in its box creaked with every motion. A jack-in-the-box. 

Lupin praised Parvati’s success and motioned for you to step up.

The clown teetered, tipping back and forth, looming over you. In its eyes you could see your own as the clap sounded out. Its form morphed and contorted until your own wand was pointed at you. 

You stared, wide-eyed at your doppelganger. Its appearance was disheveled, outer robe shed leaving only your vest and shirt with the sleeves rucked up around the elbows.

The brand etched into its left arm was all too quick to catch your eye. The skull taunted you, snake tongue twisted in knots. The last of your breath left your aching lungs and you swore you could see it writhe under the false you’s skin, bubbling like it boiled. 

Terror swelled in the back of your mouth. You swallowed around rising bile. Ice rushed through your veins as the boggart smirked. The goofy music Lupin had put on fell quiet, drowned out by the static in your ears. 

Red sparked at the tip of fake you’s wand, and you watched your own face warp into a sinister expression. Your grip on your real wand loosened.

Waving through the air, a hideous buzz filed through the thundering cloud of red. Your doppelganger’s mouth opened. Your hands trembled. The counter charm clawed at the back of your throat, but sweat pooled at your brow and your fingers failed you. 

Your wand tumbled to the floor with a clatter. 

“Cruci-”

“Riddikulus!” 

Before the boggart could finish the curse, Draco’s wand was pushing into your vision. He barked the charm, stepping in front of you protectively and shoving you backwards with a hand to your chest. 

The boggart crackled, mutating in a cloud of dark and spitting itself back out with a last snap. Your own face still peered back at you. Its clothes had shifted from your regular uniform into an ill-fitting yellow dress. 

A blue robe draped over your doppelganger's shoulders, its hair longer and tied into chunky braids that cascaded down its front. In place of your wand, the boggart now held a golden cup. Helga Hufflepuff, really?

After a moment of tense silence, giggles began to fill the room. Low laughter turned to broad cackling until even you were letting out a dry chuckle at the boggart’s embarrassment through the fading haze of fear. 

The ringing in your ears gave way, and you could hear Lupin’s music again. The tingling in your spine subsided.

"Thank you, Draco." You breathed.

Draco whipped around to face you. Unlike the rest of the class, he was not amused. He bent down to swipe your wand off the ground. He knocked into your space. A firm hand circled your upper arm, and with an almost bruising grip he pulled you to the back of the line. 

Lupin’s startled commentary fell into the background chatter. Harry Potter approached the boggart.

“What was that?” Draco hissed. He gripped onto your shoulders, shoving your wand back into your hands.

“What was what?”

"The boggart, you oaf, the thing I just saved you from."

"You didn't have to save me!" You argued, a twinge of shame prickling behind your ribs. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy condescendingly side-eyed you.

Draco scoffed, sneering at his friends and turning so he blocked them from your view. “Like hell I didn’t! Why was it a death eat-” 

He was cut off by the insipid, rattling wheeze of the cloaked figure the boggart had wrenched into. All at once, a heavy pressure of despair drowned the air.

You both craned your necks around the rest of the line to see it better, the parody dementor lunging towards Harry in a freakish, unnatural motion. You held your breath. Lupin stepped in front of him. 

The boggart once more crackled and distorted, settling into the dusty image of clouds revealing a full moon. With another utterance of the counter charm, a beige balloon was soaring across the room with a humorous whir. 

It flew back into the mirrored wardrobe it belonged in. The doors swung shut behind it. 

The room fell into a deeper, unbroken quiet. “Sorry about that, er- That’s enough for today.” Lupin rushed out. “If you’d all like to collect your books at the back of the class, that’s the end of this lesson, thank you!”

The swarm of your classmates groaned, and Lupin’s apology fell on deaf ears. Draco turned back to you. Concern flickered in his eyes for just a moment. Tension lingered between you.

Crowd moving, students cleared out one by one. Goyle’s hand came to tug at Draco’s shoulder. Crabbe and Pansy weren’t far behind. He glared at Draco expectantly, and you could hear the sharp intake of the blonde’s breath. 

Draco looked you up and down one more time before scoffing again. He rolled his eyes.

Smoothing down the front of his robes, he rolled Goyle’s hand off him and swayed away. His shoulder rammed into yours as he passed, purposefully weaker than usual. His friends trailed behind him. You watched him go. 

For a few seconds, you let yourself sit in the emotions that surged through you. The last wave of your fear dwindled. What on earth just happened with Draco?

Shaking your head, you let out a confused sigh, before finally moving to grab your books and leave the classroom.

The way I got this request and said out loud to myself "Wait that actually goes so hard". Whoever is anon, your brain is working wonders to have thought of this and I'm here for it. That concept is so incredibly gangnam style I'm HONORED you've selected my inbox of all places to submit it. <3

Also peep me answering the ask with the fic. 🤭 I hope it is a welcome advancement, I was scrolling through other fics and just randomly realized I, too, could do that like everyone else in the tags does.

I'm sorry this took so long, I have 246 missing assignments.

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @0-alastair-0 @mqzze

[ladyathenawisdom]

Shattered / Harry Potter ❀ Pt. 3

"No, I don't like the color."

Rosella let out a loud groan, receiving shrewd and annoyed looks from the people and staff of the dress shop they had come too.

Luna sat next to the brunette who was glaring at Beatrice who had voiced her opinion out against the dress, she stood in front of the changing room she had just come out of. The dress was a long with a off shoulder design, the color was a blood red.

It reminded her of Gryffindor, and Harry, Ron and Hermione. It reminded her of Lily Potter's hair color, it reminded her of blood and all the times they had neglected her.

"It reminds me of Gryffindor," She says simply. She had nothing against the house, she was sure that Godric and Rowena got along in the past but she just didn't want to wear red.

"What about this?" Rosella said grabbing a pretty pink dress, it was quite beautiful but she didn't want to wear something so...babyish. Well, not babyish but pink really wasn't something she wanted to wear for Christmas.

"No. The color of pretty but I don't want to wear that."

Rosella scowls. "Your really picky, you know that? Come on, Luna and I also need to find a dress." She complained.

"Well, I can sit and watch you two and then we can a pick dress for me later." Beatrice told her softly.

Rosella stared at her for a few moments before nodding.

So, it began.

Luna tried only three dresses before deciding a baby blue color dress with long sleeves and ruffles. Rosella, however.....

"No."

"I don't like this one."

"It's too...green."

"This is too short,"

"Okay, this is pretty but I look like cotton candy."

"Wow, but this color is really horrible on me."

"Oh come on! This looks hideous on me."

Beatrice stared at Rosella, her face stoic but inside she was screaming. Tired is what described her, no, exhausted is what perceived her and Luna. They sat in front of the dressing room as their friend continued to try on dresses.

"Okay, I think this is the one." Rosella stepped out to reveal a shimmery purple dress with a sweetheart neckline and black designs on the chest.

Beatrice blinks. "Wow.... you look-"

"Beautiful and unique," Luna intercedes with a mesmerized smile.

"Great!" Rosella claps her hands. She turns to Beatrice with a narrowed gaze, "Now my dear B, it's your turn."

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

They had no such luck.

The trio of girls had no such luck with finding Beatrice a dress, and that's what they were talking about when they arrived back at the castle, the snow falling gently down on him.

The sky was white, a beautiful pure Dove color, the color of a swan. The clouds were above them, snowflakes falling down on them with a shimmer. The whole castle was covered in snow, it looked like it was decorated with powdery sugar of goodness.

"You couldn't even find a dress!" Rosella's loud voice echoed around the quiet but large hallway of Hogwarts castle. "Who does that? Not one dress appeased you! What does that even mean?!"

Professor Dumbledore and Professor Sprout were walking towards them when they heard the voices growing near them.

"Not one dress! Who does that? Beatrice, you need a dress in two days. We'll go again tomorrow and go to a different store,"

"No. I won't fine a dress. I'd rather go in sweats,"

"The fuck you are!"

"Language, Miss Jones." Professor Sprout told her, the two teachers now in front of them. "That'll be two points from Ravenclaw."

"Oh, man!" Rosella groans out loud, swinging her arm in annoyance.

Professor Sprout shook her head in amusement. "I'll see you, Headmaster." she nods at him before moving forward and walking away from them.

Albus turned to the girls. "I'll see you ladies at the Yule Ball, won't I?" He asks, his eyes lingering on Beatrice.

The three girls nodded and he quickly walked away.

Beatrice watched him go with an intrigued gaze.

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

It was during Breakfast the next morning when it happened.

Hedwig was the Snowy owl of Beatrice Potter, Hagrid had gotten it for her. She was a beautiful blue eyed owl that Beatrice absolutely adored and cherished. Her own animal companion.

"Look!" A girl yells as Hegwig holds a large box and drops it before Beatrice and her friends, the owl then takes a seat next to it.

Beatrice looks at the box with furrowed eyebrows, unaware of the blue eyes watching her from the professor's table.

"Did you order something?" Rosella asked, picking apart and eating some green grapes, she popped a few in her mouth.

Beatrice only shakes her head before she stands up and starts opening the box up. She glances up to see most of the Ravenclaw girls glancing at her, she even sees Ron whisper to Harry before they turn to look at her.

She ignores them and opens the box, however when she does open it, a loud audible gasp escapes her.

Rosella jolts forward. "What? What is it?" Peeking in, her eyes widen. "No way!" She yells, grabbing most of the table's attention.

"What?" Luna asks also taking a peek. She then sees a beautiful silver sequined dress, shimmering gracefully, it was folded up nicely. There were also a pair of heels, along with a silver hair clip that had decorative silver flowers.

Luna blinks, a smile growing on her face. "Who sent it?" She asks immediately.

"What?" Beatrice mumbles in confusion, glancing at her best friend.

"Well, you didn't get it."

"Um, I'm not sure." Beatrice mumbles, can't containing the small smile breaking out on her face. She then sees a small note taped to the side.

She grabs it before showing it to the girls.

Dear, Ms. Potter

Hope you like the Dress, I matched it to your preferences.

From, A

Rosella blinks. "Oh my Merlin. Did A send a message to you?"

"What?" Beatrice furrows her brows. "Who's A?"

Rosella's shakes her head. "Don't worry about it, it's from a book series. I was joking." She then smirks mischievously. "Looks like you've got a secret admirer," she sings.

Beatrice blushed, clearing her throat. "Don't be ridiculous. A could be anyone. It could be the dressshop owner that sent me this, she may not like a girl not going with a dress. I hear she's very dedicated to her fashion skills,"

Rosella snorts. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,"

Luna shakes her head. "It's highly unlikely, Beatrice. Why would a seamstress send you a dress when she doesn't even know you, she doesn't even know of your owl much less your preferences. The dress is clearly from someone who knows you, and what you like. That or maybe someone followed you and spied on you to find out what you like,"

Rosella blinks. "Facts. Except the stalking part, that's a bit...creepy."

Beatrice sighs and turns to look at the box, she smiles as she stares at it. She feels the material, staring at the shiny sequins that were glimmering and beaming. She's never been gifted a dress before, she was grateful for whomever gave her the beautiful material.

But who gave it to her? She frowns in confusion before holding the note up, staring at it.

"Oh, well. Atleast you have a dress now, you're going to be the center of attention at the ball now." Rosella sqeals happily, her eyes shining brightly.

Beatrice gave a tight lipped smile, her eyes darting all over the large room before looking at the dress in hand.

She really didn't want the attention, she always got bad attention which got her teased. But she loved the dress, she stared at it with a genuine smile, her eyes gleaming.

..........

"You know, I honestly thought it would be more entertaining."

Beatrice bit her bottom lip as she and her friends were sat in the stands for the Second Task. She frowns, a bit worried for them.

They had to save something under the water, the something was a person. Viktor had saved Hermione, which was totally surprising because she didn't honestly think the two would get together. And Fleur had failed to save her sister.

Which meant.....

"And there he is!"

Beatrice looked to see that Harry had saved both Ron and Gabrielle, Fleur's sister. Harry was wet with water, but Beatrice could still see the arrogant glint in his eyes. He gave a smile, exhausted but the crowd still cheered.

Beatrice sighs, well, atleast Harry was safe. He might have hated her but she still, kinda, cared about him.

Rosella rolls her eyes. "Big deal, blah, blah, blah."

Luna smiles, looking at the whole scene. "It seems as Cedric and Harry are friends," Watching as the two talked.

"Wow, Professor Dumbledore doesn't look happy." Rosella points out.

Beatrice looks at him and sees the headmaster arguing quietly with Barty Crouch, and the other man who was sponsoring the whole thing, she forgot his name. It must have been that the thing was a person.

He certainly didn't look happy. He looked angry, he looked scary when he was angry, and the Dumbledore she knew never really got angry. No one's ever seen Dumbledore angry.

And he looked absolutely scary, so dangerous. She quickly looked away, she watches as Harry tells Ron and Hermione something, causing them to frown.

Well, after this. The Yule Ball will happening, yay. Not to mention her birthday, she was turning 14 after Christmas. She was born a day after Christmas, on Christmas Eve.

That was what she was partly looking forward too. The last three years had been the best as Rosella and Luna always gave her an amazing birthday special surprise, she actually had friends who cared about her.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Beatrice could feel eyes on her as she enters the Great Hall, which had magically been transported into a beautiful venue for Winter.

Instead of the large long tables for the houses, there were small round tables in blue cloths, along with everything else. The theme was winter, so blue, white and silver. Her dress matched the theme.

Rosella had curled Beatrice's hair and put it in a high bun with a few strands falling out. The dress was beautiful on her, along with the silver heels and the clip on her head.

Luna was wearing a blue dress with her hair done while Rosella wore a pretty purple dress, her hair curled and in a ravishing braid.

Beatrice noticed many of the boys looking at her and frowns, she walks beside her friends as they take a seat at an empty table. Why were they staring at her? She looked at all of them, confused, with her furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh man, these aren't real nilla wafers." Rosella said with her mouth full, she looks down at the table where all the goodies like chocolate, biscuits and small cakes were placed.

Beatrice giggled.

Luna looks around the room dreamily, her eyes gleaming with amazement at how well put together everything was. It looked absolutely beautiful, like a true Winter Wonderland. "It's so beautiful," she says with a smile.

Beatrice sighs, looking around with a happy look on her face. "Yes, it really is "

"Oh look, it's Looney Lovegood." A Slytherin girl says walking over, her dress was a short but a puffy green color. Her makeup was dark and smokey, her heels atleast 8 inches or so. "Aww, and it's Boo hoo Potter."

That was another name since Beatrice was also seen as a cry baby.

"Oh look, you covered up your blemishes and pimples." The Slytherin said with a smirk.

Rosella sighs, annoyed. "Don't make me spill my juice on you," she gets up and holds her glass of cranberry juice. The Slytherins immediately back away.

Beatrice frowns. And here she wanted to enjoy a quiet night, a peaceful night where she could have fun. She looked at the front and saw that the dancing was about to begin.

"Come on," Rosella grabs her and Luna and the three walk through the crowd at the front. They all watch as the Champions and their dates get ready.

Beatrice blinks. Fleur was with a boy she didn't know of, Cedric was with Cho Cheng, Viktor Krum was with....Hermione?! Her lips part and she looks to see an angry Ron near the corner.

She looks to see Haryy with Padma, dancing rather, well, not so good. She then sees Ginny dancing with Neville, Beatrice frowns and looks away.

The first time she had met Ginny, she had been a bit cocky. But she was shy when she had seen Harry, she had a crush on him but Harry being him, couldn't see it.

She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.

"Hmm, how romantic." Rosella sighs with a content smile. "I wish someone big and strong asked me to dance with him,"

Beatrice chuckles, she smiles as she looks at the dancing in front of them. Now all that was left was the Third Task and then the year would be over. She wished that it didn't, she didn't want to go home to her parents again.

She would be ignored all the way.

What was worse was that Sirius would be joining them. He had to be hidden until a fair trial was given to him, which would take a while since the Ministry was stupid and incompetent.

She sighs and looks around with a frown, bored. She thought it would more exciting, but it wasn't. Sure, people were now starting to dance and music was playing, the decorations were truly amazing but she thought it be more fun.

But it was getting boring. She looked to see Rosellea accept a hand of a shy Hufflepuff and the two start dancing gracefully together. She smiles.

She turns to Luna, but finds the platinum blonde walking away to the table and sit down, a book in her hands. She blinks, she had no idea where Luna had pulled that book out from but atleast she was enjoying herself.

Luna was in the year below them. While Rosella and Beatrice were in their fourth year, Luna was in her third year, same with Ginny Weasley.

"Ms. Potter. Care to dance?"

Beatrice heard gasps and whispers, but she ignored them and turned towards the familar voice. She swallows hard when she sees that Headmaster Dumbledore was staring at her, his hand outstretched for her to take.

He wore a dazzling gray three piece suit, looking more handsome than he was already was. His hair was pushed back in neat style and she could see he was growing a slight beard, however it didn't look like a beard, but she guessed he might have been growing one.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Beatrice blinks in surprise, looking around.

"Would you...?" He nods over at the dancing people. Beatrice stares at him for a few moments before slowly nodding, she places her small dainty hand in his large callused ones.

He leads her over to the main floor, and the two start dancing, Beatrice ignores the piercing stares that she was getting tired of. She glances over Dumbledore's shoulder to see Harry staring at her, his gaze looking between her and the headmaster.

She looks away to see Dumbledore looking at her, like he was analyzing her, his gaze was intense.

"What are you staring at?" Beatrice asks hesitantly, she looks around the ballroom. She sees Madem Maxime and Hagrid dancing together.

"I'm staring at a girl, a sister that your brother hasn't told me about."

Beatrice tenses. "Yeah, well, me and Harry aren't close." She shrugs, giggling nervously.

Albus stares at her, slowly nodding. "I can tell." He states, he frowns at her. "I notice that your particularly quiet, and unlike your brother, you don't meddle in stuff that's dangerous." He twirls her as one of Beatrice's favorite song is played.

And it was a muggle song. Surprisingly.

Two kids with their hearts on fire

Who's gonna save us now?

When we thought that we couldn't get higher

Things started looking down

I look at you and you look at me

Like nothing but strangers now

Two kids with their hearts on fire

Don't let it burn us out

Beatrice laughs. "Yeah, well, I guess I would if I took risks, but I don't. I guess I'm cautious and think things through, I am a Ravenclaw of course."

Albus smiles, nodding. "I guess you are. But you wouldn't help you brother?" He questions, although it came curiously.

Beatrice hesitates.

Think about what you believe in now

Am I someone you cannot live without?

'Cause I know I don't wanna live without you, yeah

Come on, let's turn this all around

Bring it all back to that bar downtown

When you wouldn't let me walk out on you, yeah

"Well," She says with her eyebrows furrowed, Her dress swishing beneath her. "I would, but Harry already has Hermione and Ron. Plus, I'm not special, not like him." She shakes her head, smiling sadly.

"Oh, on the contrary, I think your very special." Albus states rather calmly. "I think your special in your own ways, in more ways than one. Maybe more special than your brother," he states quietly.

Beatrice blinks, her lips parting.

You said, "Hey, whatcha doing for the rest of your life?"

And I said, "I don't even know what I'm doing tonight"

Went from one conversation to your lips on mine

And you said, "I never regretted the day that I called you mine"

So I call you mine

Can I call you mine? (Ooh)

And you said, "I never regretted the day that I called you mine"

"I-uh," Beatrice shakes her head. "Harry literally destroyed Voldermort three times, that's an achievement."

Albus stares at her. "Your not afraid to say his name, Ms. Potter." He notes with a smile.

"Fear of a name only increases the thing itself," Beatrice states, following her feet after his. He twirls her and brings her back to him, she yelps quietly when she meets his chest. She meets his gaze.

"Smart." Albus smiles.

Beatrice smiles back at him. She was actually enjoying herself, she looks around and sighs softly.

Albus stares at her, looking around the room with a contemplative expression on his face. "Don't let them get to you," he speaks up. "Don't let anyone but yourself have a opinion on yourself."

"What?"

"Don't let anyone but yourself have a opinion on yourself," Dumbledore states rather sternly, his gaze dark but also intense. "No one has an opinion on yourself but you. Let people think what they think, they don't define you, you yourself do. You define yourself,"

Beatrice swallows hard, moving to the rhythm.

Dumbledore shakes his head. "There is a reason why your brother is in Griffyndor, they may be brave but they can foolish. Looking for trouble is not the right way, the way Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger do." He sighs.

"What do you mean?"

"While they have a knack for saving people, they also have a knack for doing dangerous things and not thinking everything through." He pulls her closer, "My point, Ms. Potter is that you are special. You are just as special as your brother,"

Beatrice shakes her head. "But I've never done anything heroic, much less meet Voldermort." She frowns.

"You may not have, but I do think your very special. Define yourself. Stand up for yourself. Don't let others dicate what you want to do, what you wanna be, why let them? You are you, not them."

Beatrice bites her bottom lip, never thinking it that way and she was a Ravenclaw. She didn't think that she could be one when she didn't think like that, was she even intellectual? Sheblooks back at him.

"See you soon, Beatrice." Albus gives her a warm smile before pulling apart and walking away, she watched him go. His words rang in her mind, she had no idea what to say to that.

She shakes her head, stood alone on the dance floor, with people surrounding her as they all danced gracefully.

Now, only the third task was left. And then the Triwizard Tournament would end and the winner would be announced. She wondered if it would Vikor, Fleur, Cedric or maybe even Harry. She just knew if her brother won it would definitely boost his ego, their parents would be more proud of him and everyone would love him more.

He would just become more famous, he did enter the tournament, he was only 14, it might have been an unknown accident but still, he was still Harry Potter.

Beatrice swallows hard, she wondered what would happen in the future. For some reason, she felt like something bad would happen, she shakes her head and walks away from the dance floor.

"What's wrong?" Rosella asks, walking towards her.

"I have a very bad feeling." Beatrice whispered.

Rosella only frowns.

⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*

Her words were right.

He was back.

Cedric was dead.

Beatrice watched in frozen shock as Lily, James, Sirius and Remus ran towards Harry, who was crying over Cedric's body. She stares at them, tears growing in her eyes, she hesitatinly stands up on shaky legs.

She looks around, noticing everyone screaming and crying. She whimpers, covering her mouth as horror seeped in.

"HE'S BACK! HE'S BACK!" Harry cried out, clutching Cedric's body, not letting go even though Lily was trying to craddle him to her chest, tears streaming down his face. Remus was on his other side while Sirius and James were arguing with Dumbledore, and the other Professors.

"Beatrice!"

She turned to see a crying Rosella hurrying towards her, sniffling. "Did, did you hear?" She whispered.

Beatrice only swallows hard. "Yeah. I did. He's back." She whispered, knowing that her bad feeling had erupted.

[hellfire--cult]

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SOOO LONG!! BUT THIS IS SHOW YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH!! I fucking love Do I Wanna Know?. Got me takes forever to finish it but worth it! You can skip all the way down to bottom 😂

Part one: OH MY GOD. Steve is masterpiece, I would kiss all over his body fuck me. I am sooooo jealous of Barb got a touch lips by Billy! I do wish they could be date together because they’ll be so cute 😭 I DIE IF EDDIE DID TO ME AND, YEAH, I WOULD FAINT TOO!

Part two: Reader is so adorable. I wish Eddie could help me too, I’m not great around guys either. (Panic panic panic) I did laugh when reader yell “I’m sorry” and made Eddie jump, spill coffee. Reader and Robin are perfect best friend, it’s so cute when she told her that she was talking to Eddie, a stripper. JASON? LIKE ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT JASON CARVER A STRIPPER?!?! I need to know how Jason end up. I did little mad at Eddie because of Harry Potter, I was like how dare him?! 😂 but it cute that he already knew to make her to look at him. Nice one Eddie. You made me look up to see if black is colour, turn out it wasn’t, I am so mad but Black is my favourite COLOUR!!! I’m going to stick with that 😤🖤.

Part three: i love how eddie help her out at the mall (I wish he was there with her) to help pick out the dress (omg beautiful dress) I can see that Robin and Eddie are going to be great friend. First time to see reader dress took Eddie breath, oh yeah he’s going to falling in love with her. “I like spicy.” Eddie held in the smirk at your words, closing his eyes to not make a dirty joke out of it. had me giggling. I like how Steve and Billy gentler with her and helping her too, I like them. Billy… Billy… that goddamn blue eyes. (Hand fan) I had to look up what is Anchovy pizza look likes and ew. Haha there no way I’m going to eat them, I’m on Steve side.

Part four: I am sooooo proud of reader that she did it! Meet the other guys in eyes and didn’t even stutter! Ah so proud. I love how Robin yelled “Holy shit! GOD BLESS STRIPPERS!” got me laugh. I, Lucille, want taste Steve foods, I definitely want to call him my sexy chief. The touch! The TOUCH!! Billy AND Steve kissed?! I must need to see that! I’m sad that Billy is straight 😂 I kinda want Steve and Billy together. Why is so sexy that Billy help Steve, Eddie helped Billy and Steve helped Eddie that I can imagine them, kiss, touch skin and sexy dancing, my god 🫠 And the kiss!! The Kiss!! THE KISS!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!! Had me MELTING. I’m speechless. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 Reader got second kisses from two men in one night! Why can’t that be meeeeee?????? 😭😭

Part five: Austin, oooohhhhh, he likes Harry Potter books, aaahhhhh. I do love Harry Potter, so obsessed and I do have tattoo! (Picture in bottom) Steve spit cheerios out had me laugh, poor Steve! But Poor Eddie. I love Robin taught her to cross her arm and make chest pop. I wish Robin’s my best friend or a real person. And she’s doing a stripper dancing for R! I. Am. So. Jealous. Steve dance for r? My god. BILLY dance for r? OH my god! “Angel” had me sweating and couldn’t breather either. Eddie- Eddie- Eddie- you kill me, you already kill me and I’m dead. I’m going sue you for that. He can take my dollar, no, hundred dollar. “I’ll help you shut your mind off. So… please- please let me make you feel good” o-oh Eddie, please make me feel good. Again… THE KISSING!! (Me: Gif ⬇️) “Feel me” WHY CAN I FEEL THAT?! I NEVER BEEN THAT HORNIEST IN MY LIFE!! I want to give you a handshake for thankfully because that was amazing I ever read. My husband give me the weird look, he asked “why are you so squirming so much?” I actually answered this, “well… Eddie is fingering me” 🤣 I cannot believe you choose Austin Butler and you got that right, I’m going to sue you. I can’t believe you didn’t pick Jamie/Henry! 🤪

Part six: 22.4K? Sweetheart. Darling. Roe. Whyyyyyyyyyyy?????? I have to make that plan to read them on weekend (my only day off) and it wasn’t easy not to read them! he whispered into his ear the same question he asked you before. "Did you have fun last night?" had me screaming! Reader shaved again and the black laced lingerie set? Oooohhhh I can feel spicy coming 🌶️ the date seem went well but then Dustin called. That little shit. 😅 I hope they meet one day and play game together! He make my cheeks hurt so bad from smiling. I love dustin so much! The smut! THE SMUUUUUUUUUT!!!!!! OH MY GOD I WOULD GIVE YOU THE BEST AWARD!! (Me; gif ⬇️) 🏆🏆 my husband gave me the weird look again 🤣

Part seven: ahh it made me so happier for Eddie and reader (love sight). But………. HOW DARE EDDIE?!?! No wait… HOW DARE YOU?!?! How could you do this to meeeeeeee?? 💔 not the purple dress! I’m so scared for her, I don’t want her to come back in shy again 😭 I hope Eddie better explain that

That’s all folks! Wow! This is incredible I ever read. And yeah, I read them each parts while write the reviews. I never done that before 😂 I’m so sad that your taglist is full but I am super looking forward for more and I cannot wait to read more!

My tattoo 💚

Oh wow LOOK AT HOW MUCH YOU WROTE I CANNOT BELIEVE IT

I love all of your feelings throughout the parts, it does make me feel like i did something right 😭❤

Can't believe you wrote your thoughts and feelings for each part, I am still in awe from reading it all! I am really happy that you liked them so much that YOU WROTE THIS MUCH AND YOU MADE ME SMILE SO WIDE, YOU HAVE NO IDEA

LOL YOUR HUSBAND, I had many people tell me that their partners were looking at them weirdly when reading the smut part or the cute parts of them all, AND I DONT BLAME THEM, NOR YOU, BECAUSE EVEN I THE WRITER WAS KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING IT

I AM A FAN OF HARRY POTTER MYSELF, and I lovE YOUR TATOO OMG. THE CUP!? THE DEATHLY HALLOWS?! AND THE FUCKING FLOWERS .S.FS.SE.FS

I love it so much and thank you again for this amazing response, it truly brings a smile to my face to know that I am making people feel these things just by my mere writing 💕💕

[evvy96]

Sleeping Beauties - Sam x Reader, Dean x Cas

y/n=your name n/n=your nickname h/l=hair length h/c=hair colour e/c=eye colour

The hunt had seemed simply enough. A low-level witch (“Ugh. Witches man! Hate ‘em!”), had been found terrorising a small town in Indiana. The attacks had been random so far, nothing seemed to match up. One kissed his wife and turned into a frog, one had run out of a party, lost a shoe and then fell to the ground only to be run over by a passing couple on a romantic carriage ride! And one person supposedly got high on mushrooms and tried to dance with a deer in the forest but wound up impaled on an antler. “This doesn’t add up! None of these attacks make any sense on their own, and I can’t figure out how the hell they fit together!” Sam exclaimed as he looked over the stories on his laptop, running his hands through the long chestnut locks of his hair. (Y/n) walked up behind him, resting her arms across his back as she peered over his shoulder and scanned the news article, before turning back to the board she and Dean had pinned up between the two beds of the Motel room. “There’s something familiar about parts of these stories, but there’s something about them that doesn’t work. They all sound like old fairytales, but each of them have something inherently wrong with the original, well, Disneyfied, story. The first victim sounds almost like ‘The Princess and the Frog’, but the guy turns into a frog then the kiss from a princess turns him back. The second one is like ‘Cinderella’, but she definitely doesn’t die! She uses the carriage to get away after losing her shoe and trying to beat the spell breaking. And that last one! It’s just like that scene in ‘Sleeping Beauty’ where Aurora meets Phillip in the woods after the animals dress up as a Prince and dance with her to relive a dream she’d had.” Dean smirked at her from the table across the room, Cas sitting beside him scouring over ways to defeat this witch. “Watch a lot of Disney do you (n/n)?” The woman only smirked at him, lowering the shoulder of the oversized flannel she’d borrowed from Sam to reveal the tattoo sitting on her bicep. (This a tattoo I have that I designed guys, I’ll include a pic below if I can.) A mess of thick black lines and curves to those who wouldn’t think to look closely, but to (y/n), it was her most precious mark. “What? You’ve never seen the tattoo I designed when I was 14? It’s Disney, Harry Potter and Music. The three things that shaped my childhood, y’know, outside of hunting with my aunt.”

Cas smiled at her description of the combination of symbols. He had learned a lot about Popular Culture as a human, but anything he had missed was quickly brought to his attention once (y/n) had started teaming up with the Winchesters on a more permanent basis. She had become a personal ‘introduce the angel to the good parts of the world’ ambassador, much to Dean and Sam’s amusement. Sam couldn’t help but become distracted by the mark on her perfect (s/c) skin. A Deathly Hallows symbol with Mickey ears adorning the sides and a music not within each circle, it was the perfect description of the (h/c) haired woman’s deepest passions. He had seen it many times before, stitching her up when Cas’ Grace was depleted or when they were forced to share a room on a hunt because the Motel was booked up. He loved seeing each of the different spots across her body she had been inked, almost as much as he loved seeing her in his clothes. The blue and purple flannel hang perfectly off her body if it were possible, considering the size difference between them. (Y/n) stood at a sweet-sized (height) so Sam easily towered over her, and with his elongated torso it was hard to believe that the shoulders sat perfectly on her and it draped just so over her curves, ending halfway down her thighs. She had just left the shower not long ago, sweat still shining on her face making her glow almost ethereally. But what pulled Sam’s attention more than anything else, was the ink that sat clear on her upper thing when she sat beside him at the desk. The anti-possession symbol was beautiful, but what lay beneath it was something he’d never seen before. Two sets of initials and the title of a Kansas song lay beneath the symbol. “Um… (n/n)?” “Yeah Sammy?” She smirked at him as she crossed one leg over the other, the top of the tattoo peeking out from under the soft material. “What’s that underneath your anti-possession. Are those… mine and Dean’s initials?” Dean’s eyes widened at those words and he dashed from his chair and sped across the room. He gripped her chair with both hands and swung her around, a true feat considering it was a chair with four legs firmly planted on the ground, and started with even wider eyes as he came across what his brother had mentioned. Cas was calmer about the situation, stepping slowly over and not as curious. She had confided in him the hidden aspects of her tattoo during a particularly late binge session of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. “Aha! Well um… you see… I was a fan of the books before I met you guys and… well…” (Y/n) knew the books Chuck had written were a sore spot for Sam and Dean, so she had refrained from mentioning her obsession with the books when she was younger. But now, she could only watch as a blush crept over her cheeks and she felt her face warm in embarrassment as Dean laughed in surprise.

“Well, well, well sweetheart. Didn’t realise you were such a fangirl. You go to those conventions too?” Sam only watched as her blush deepened. He could swear he felt the heat from where he sat. “Once… maybe… but there was this chick there. Total nutjob, obsessed with Sam to the point that, at the time I thought ‘good thing this dude doesn’t actually exist or he’d be totally stalked by this psycho’. I swear she had serious stalker vibes.” “Oh God! You don’t mean… was her name Becky?” (Y/n)’s eyes widened at that, processing the fact that Sam knew her name, before erupting in to a fit of laughter all her own as Dean toppled backwards to the floor holding his belly. “Oh my God! You’ve met her?! What was that like?” “I’d rather not relive those meetings…” “Wait! Meetings as in plural? Oh God!” This went on for a solid 30 minutes, Sam’s embarrassment at the multiple Becky encounters Dean regaled amidst fits of giggles between the three who didn’t have to suffer the weird touching and love spells he had been subject to, before the younger Winchester finally had enough. “Okay! Can we please go back to the case? Fairytales gone wrong, y’know, people dying!” They sobered up not long after, a smirk still on (y/n)’s lips whenever she made eye contact with Sam across the small desk. They worked long in to the night, until the beers ran out and their stomachs grumbled with hunger. (Y/n) and Castiel shared a look before standing, moving to grab her coat. “I’ll go get us some dinner from the diner. What do you guys want? And yes Dean, I know your order is Burger and Pie.” “Cherry please!” “Sure. Sam?” “Chicken Caesar please (Y/n). You gonna be okay getting there and back with everything? You don’t wanna take the car?” (Y/n) shook her head with a smile. “Nah. We’ll be fine. It’s just around the corner and I’ll have Cas with me. We’ll be back soon.” With a quick kiss to each of their cheeks, (y/n) walked to the door, throwing on her jacket and following Cas outside. ------------------------------------------------------------------ After an hour, and about a dozen phone calls to both (y/n) and Cas’ phones, the brothers were starting to worry for their friends. They threw on their jackets and raced out the door, foregoing the car so they could trace their steps exactly. They entered the diner and looked around for any sign of a trenchcoat or bright (h/c) hair with no such luck. Dean walked up to the register in a hurry, only to stop as he came face to face with a beautiful young woman, lithe and curved with strawberry blonde hair that fell in beautiful long curls and eyes so blue they could be mistaken for crystals. She smiled as he stood at the counter, a smirk slowly creeping over his lips. “Well, hey there sweetheart. I don’t suppose you’ve seen a man and a woman come in here around an hour ago?” “Hey there handsome. Don’t suppose you can give me a description can you?” Sam walked up at this point, standing beside his brother and taking over the conversation. “The girl’s about (height) tall, she’s (s/c) with (h/c), (h/l) hair, these big (e/c) eyes. She was wearing jeans and a flannel way too big for her. And Cas…” “He’s pale, black hair and blue eyes in a suit and beige trenchcoat. They came here to get us dinner an hour ago but they neve got back to our hotel room.” The woman, her nametag said Danni, smiled at the two handsome men in front of her. “Yeah I remember them. He was an odd fella, and she was so nice, not like most of the gals you see come through these parts. So sweet, and kind. She one o’ yours?” Sam went to deny it, but Dean wrapped an arm around him and spoke first. “Ah, yeah. This guy’s a lucky one isn’t he?” he could do nothing but blush, thinking about (y/n) being his. He couldn’t deny it was something he thought of often, but he it wasn’t something he would ever act on. He hadn’t exactly been lucky in the love department, and he would never do anything to put (y/n) in that kind of danger. “So you saw them? How long ago did they leave?” “Only took about 10 minutes to make their order, and the pie was fresh out the oven, so it was a while ago now. Left and turned right out to the side towards the Motel. I’m guessin’ that’s where y’all are stayin’?” With those words and a muttered thanks in Danni’s general direction, Sam and Dean ran out of the diner, following the path they had just trekked to get there and keeping their eyes peeled as they walked back on the opposite footpath. They passed an alleyway as they walked back to the Motel, and something told Sam to turn down it and look. He’d made it about half way down when he noticed a plastic bag sitting by a dumpster and dared to open it, revealing what seemed to be four Styrofoam packs of now-cold food. He looked to the right and beckoned Dean down to show him the latest clue when he suddenly felt something invisible tug at his navel. As Dean watched his eyes widen, he was yanked forward toward the wall in front of him and he cringed, waiting for the hard impact of brick against his face. Surprised when he didn’t feel the painful thud of his own skull against what was essentially rock, his eyes eeked open to show him he was in a small warehouse, dark and silent and foreboding. As he moved to take a step forward, he felt a solid mass against his back as Dean was flown through the camouflaged door and collided with his back, sending the pair sprawling over the dusty, unpolished floorboards. With a pained groan and shake of their heads, the men righted themselves and drew their guns, stalking side by side for any signs of their friends or present dangers. A long corridor lay ahead, doors lining each side all the way down to an entryway that Sam could only assume was a kitchen. They crept forward, carefully opening the ancient doors to see if (y/n) or Cas were on the other side with no luck. They paused at the entryway, no door to block them from being seen, but also not stopping them from seeing inside. From where Dean stood, he caught a glimpse of (y/n), pinned to the wall by seemingly nothing, and Sam could see Cas across from her on the opposite wall. Between them, a figure walked slowly around a table, cauldron sitting above a small flame with dried herbs surrounding it. She was chanting from an old tome in her hands, the Latin/Greek hybrid of words falling seamlessly from painted lips. Guns up and pointed at the woman in the center of the room, Cas’ eyes widened as Dean made eye contact with him, and (y/n) as Sam cast a brief glance her way. They were silent as they stalked forward, until Sam stepped on a floorboard that gave a loud creak at his weight. The woman in front of them halted her steps, a malicious smile growing over her lips and making (y/n) and Cas’ hearts speed up in fright for their boys. “I was wondering when you would find us. We’ve been having a lovely little chat about you boys.” She turned to face them, raising her head so they could see the flash of the light cross sea green eyes and flawless creamy skin peeking out from the elegant blue dress she wore. “We’ve been waiting for you two. My daughter told me half an hour ago that you had stopped by the diner looking for these beautiful creatures. I figured it was only a matter of time before you found the trail I left for you. But, I needed some time to finish my latest spell, so I could never complain about a little delay.” Daughter? Oh Son of a Bitch, Danni! “Yeah we’ve heard you’re a creative bitch with your recent spells. What have you chosen as your latest Fairytale flip? Thumbelina? You gonna shrink on of us down to be squished?” ‘Fucks sake Dean, do you have to antagonise the witch holding our friends to the wall?’ “Oh, very clever dear! You figured out my little plan. Not much can be changed about those old tales. True love always wins out eventually. But so few people actually find those truest of loves that the one small change to the tale makes it impossible to undo. If that man had truly loved his wife, he wouldn’t have turned in to a toad. But don’t fret, little princes. I have something very special planned for you hunters.” With a flick of her hand in either direction, Sam and Dean were flung back towards (y/n) and Cas respectively, landing at the feet and sliding in to the walls with a resounding thump. They tried to lift themselves but found they were pinned down. Sam turned his head to look up at (y/n), worry filling his eyes. “You alright sweetheart?” “I’m fine Sammy. She hasn’t done anything to us. Honestly I have no idea what she has panned.” The Witch turned at her words, smile sickly sweet as she moved forward and grasped (y/n)’s delicate chin, squeezing at the base of her cheeks so hard she could feel the pain shoots through her nerves and pulling a near feral growl from Sam below them. “Oh, don’t you worry pet. You’ll see in just a few moments.” She strode back to her cauldron, throwing another handful of herbs bound in twine, rosemary is Sam wasn’t mistaken. The potion started to bubble, white smoke bubbling over the sides of the cauldron and pouring down to the floor like a river of fog. As it crept across the floorboards and started flooding the room, the spell keeping Sam and Dean to the ground was lifted and they jumped to their feet, each gripping the friend closest tot hem and pulling to try and pry them off their suspended position on the wall. As they tugged, the potions fumes wrapped around their ankles and they were overcome with a sudden weakness. Dean fell first, his grip on Cas’ shoulders going slack as he fell sideways to hit the ground once more, his eyes slipping closed and his entire body going slack. “Dean!” Cas’s gravelly timbre echoed as he watched the man drop, his eyes wide in fear and moving to (y/n) and Sam as he moved faster to try and free the woman from her spell. His grip was tight on her wrist, but it wasn’t long until even he couldn’t fight the effects of whatever the potion intended. His eyes started to slip shut and (y/n) could only watch in horror as he gave over to it and knelt to the floor, landing with a hard thud on the floor and being engulfed in the spelled fog. The Witch cackled as the spell started to recede back in to the cauldron. With a snap of her fingers, all of the potions and it’s ingredients vanished and she started walking towards the entryway. Pausing just within sight, she turned to face (y/n) and Cas, still pinned to opposing walls. “You have 24 hours to figure out how to break my curse, or this shall be the end of the Winchester hunter dynasty!” With a final cackle, she disappeared. It was far too long before the spell keeping them pinned wore off, they had counted 5 hours before losing track. (Y/n) fell to the floor rather unceremoniously at the sudden drop, it barely giving Cas a moment to gather his own bearings to just catch himself on his knees. He moved swiftly to Dean’s side, rolling him over and feeling for a pulse as (y/n) did the same for Sam. Relief washed over them as they felt the steady thump of a pulse under their fingers and the rhythmic rise and fall of their chests. Cas pulled Dean into his arms and zapped to (y/n) and Sam, holding all three of them and transporting them to the Bunker’s Medical Bay. He hefted Dean on to one bed before helping (y/n) with Sam. Looking over Dean he placed two fingers to his forehead, closing his eyes and focussing hard on trying to expel the spell from his being. Dean didn’t stir, and Cas sighed heavily, dropping his hand and turning to face (y/n) as she brushed stray tendrils of hair from Sam’s face. “My Grace isn’t waking him up. I don’t know what could wake him up.” (Y/n) looked at him, a sad smile on her face as she looked over at her friends and grasped at Sam’s hand, stroking her thumb over the top and begging silently for him to just wake up. “I might have an idea, but I need to go to the Library and check out a couple of books I have on the personal shelves.” They reluctantly left the boys in the Med Bay and called out to Jack to join them from the kitchen, Cas quickly explaining the situation as (y/n) scoured her personal bookshelf. Her fingers danced over two separate spines, short and thick amidst smaller, newer volumes, a mixture of hardcover and paperback. “Here! Tales by Charles Perrault and Entire Works of the Brothers Grimm. Jack, help me look through Charles Perrault’s book for Sleeping Beauty. Cas, look for Snow White.” Jack looked at her with inquisitive eyes. “Aren’t those Disney animated movies?” (Y/n) smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, they are movies from Disney early ages, but they got the tales from these authors. They’re a lot darker than the ones I’ve shown you, just so you know.” With that, she turned through chapters, searching for the original fairytale amongst the worn pages. It took about an hour with Jack asking her questions about certain stories and pictures, but (y/n) gently reminded him of their pressing timeframe and continued on. It was the last story in the tome, and she gave a small cry as she read through the story. “Got it! The story of The Sleeping Beauty in the Woods. It says she was enchanted to sleep for one hundred years, when she would be awoken by her True Love’s Kiss.” “It’s the same for Snow White.” Cas called out from across the table, Grimm’s Tales in his hand. “Sleeping Beauty is in here too. I guess they have their own version.” (Y/n) nodded pulling the volume over to her to read. “I totally forgot! Brothers Grimm copied the story and published it in their own works, translating from French to English. Even Snow White was only awoken by True Love’s Kiss, though she didn’t have to wait a century for it to happen. There’s so many different versions of these stories. One has Sleeping Beauty awoken by the birth of her own children, a products of a greedy traveller raping the princess in a moment of hedonism.” “So… Sam and Dean just need to be kissed by their True Loves?” Jack’s brows were furrowed in thought. Cas looked at (y/n) with fear tinging his eyes. “Does True Love even exist outside of Fairytales?” “I’m not sure. I mean, the Witch said that there were people who had True Loves, but the boys both lost who seemed to be their soulmates. I mean, Sam lost Jess years ago, and Crowley killed Cassie a few years back when he was bent on undoing all of the good they’ve done over the years.” (Y/n) seemed almost sad talking about Sam and Jess. Over the years, Sam had told her stories of his days at Stanford, meeting and falling in love with Jessica, and his plans to propose to her not long before Dean had asked him for help finding John. They had formed a special bond in the years following her rescue from a Vamp hunt gone wrong. She had lost her aunt in the battle and was moments away from perishing herself, when Sam had burst in, machete swinging wildly against necks before Dean could even breach the doors. Sam had only recently left Stanford, and the pain of losing Jess had been fresh, so running in to save one of his oldest friends regardless of personal injury had seemed a great idea at the time. They had joined up for hunts here and there for a few years after that, before the final battle against Lucifer had passed and, to your horror at the time, Sam’s Soul had been returned and Dean had all but begged her to join them on a more permanent basis. She had been the one to bring him out of his visions of Lucifer before he had sliced his hand open, and it had led to many talks about the nightmares that still plagued the man to this day. Late nights, dangerous hunts and long car rides had given them more time to strengthen their friendship, but they had both struggled greatly following Dean’s disappearance following their defeat of Dick Roman and the Leviathans. They had separated for a time, (y/n) continuing the hunt in Bobby’s name and Sam, well, at the time she’d had no idea what he’d been doing. But hearing about Amelia, that had caused a squeezing pain in her chest she never wanted to feel again. Shaking off those thoughts, she snapped the books closed and looked to the Angel and Nephilim in front of her. “Come on. We have to hurry. The boys don’t have much longer before this is permanent.” They ran back to the Infirmary skidding to a stop as they entered the room. Dean was now encased in glass, a ribbon of gold circling the magical coffin. His skin had taken on an ashen pallor, but he appeared peaceful. Sam, he had all but disappeared, engulfed in a small forest of thorny vines. (Y/n) could barely make out the messy mop of chestnut locks, and rushed forward to try and pull him out of them. She grabbed a vine and let out a shout of pain, pulling her hands back to see the thorns that had embedded themselves in her palm, blood starting to drip steadily from the new wounds. Jack raced up to her and gently plucked the sharp weeds from her skin and letting his grace brush over her to heal her. Cas had rushed to move the glass away from Dean, placing her hand on his chest and shaking him with fervour. Jack looked over at his pseudo-father, sensing his pain as he desperately clutched at Dean, tears starting to pool in his eyes. It’s time he knew. “Uh, Cas? There’s something you should know.” Cas looked to the young boy, a question in his gaze. “Yes Jack? Do you know something that can help them?” “I think so. You know how you’ve always said you have a special bond with Dean after bringing him back from Hell?” “Yes…” “Well, it actually goes much farther than that. I’ve found recently that I’m able to sense the auras of all beings, and some of them have matching colours. It’s rare to find two beings who not only match, but have met through their lives, but you and Dean… you two found each other.” Cas was speechless, and (y/n) could only look between the two with wide eyes. It made sense, when she really thought about it. Their bond was one beyond that of friendship, and was something (y/n), Sam and Jack had talked about the last time the two of them had gone on a hunt together. (Y/n) stepped towards Cas as he started to sputter denials, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. “Cas, stop trying to deny it. We’ve seen the way you two act around each other. You may think it’s all friendly banter, but we can see those tender moments. Where your eyes soften, or how you look at each other when you think no one is looking. And… I promised him I would never repeat this but… one night, when Dean and I got really wasted after a hunt, he told me how he feels for you. Dean loves you Cas, he’s just scared to admit his feelings and let himself be happy. He’s so worried he’ll finally accept what you have and then he’ll lose you and… I know that’s how you feel too. Stop letting your fears get in the way of your happiness.” Cas still seemed unsure, but as he turned back to Dean to see the ashen colouring to his skin and the barely-there rise and fall of his chest, he knew he had to try. He bent forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s, the kiss hesitant yet hopeful. (Y/n) and Jack watched with bated breath as Cas kissed Dean, their lips upturning into smiles as they watched a deep gasp sound through Dean’s nose as he awoke and instinctively puckered his own lips to meet Cas’ in a tender shared embrace. It lasted only a moment before Cas pulled back as Dean opened his eyes. Emerald met Azure, and they smiled. Dean sighed before pulling Cas in for another, more heated kiss, eliciting a small, surprised moan from the Angel. Giving them as much space and privacy as she turned back to the encasing of thorns, pulling out the dagger at her hip and starting to cut at the branches, as gently as she could to avoid accidentally cutting Sam’s flesh beneath. The brambles fell away easily under the sharp blade, and (y/n) made quick work or clearing them away to look upon Sam’s face. Unlike Dean, Sam’s colour was healthy, and so he looked as if he were only sleeping. She thread a delicate hand through his hair, letting the silken locks slip through her fingers as she watched him helplessly. She feared that for Sam, this could be the end. His True Love, Jess, was long dead, and Sam had not allowed himself to truly open himself to anyone since. She had one last hope, but in case it didn’t work, she knew she had to be honest with the man, whether he could hear her or not. “Sam… I don’t know if this will work, but I know if I don’t try everything I can think of, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I… I’ve had feelings for you for a while now Sam. You’re my best friend, and I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you in it. Seeing you, every day, it’s one of the things I treasure most in my life. To have someone who knows me better than I know myself, who I know I can turn to about anything. The one person I trust above all others, it’s such a precious thing, a gift I never thought I would be blessed with. In the life we live, it’s almost unheard of to find someone like that and have them understand the shit we go through every damned day. You… are my person, and though I know Jess was yours, I hope that the love I feel for you will be enough to bring you back to us.”

As she spoke, Cas had helped Dean from his bed, the pair and Jack slowly approaching the woman professing her love for the younger Winchester. Dean squeezed Cas’ hand as he listened to (y/n)’s words, hoping beyond hope that Sam felt how he believed he did. He watched as (y/n) lowered herself to fit her lips over Sam’s, and the world seemed to stop. It only lasted a moment, before (y/n) pulled back and waiting, eyes wide with hope and hand fisted in his undershirt in a desperate attempt to feel for any change in his steady heartbeat. As minutes passed and nothing changed, the small group started to lose hope. Cas’ grip on Dean’s shoulders tightened as grief started to engulf them, Dean’s legs growing weak as his brain and heart tried to process that his brother wasn’t waking up. Jack stood by Sam’s feet, sending out a silent prayer to any God listening to wake the man he had come to see as a brother. And (y/n), she let her heart fall in to her stomach as a tear slipped from her eye, sliding down her nose and landing on Sam’s cheek before she could catch it with her sleeve; the sleeve of Sam’s over-sized flannel. She moved to rise from the bed, closing her eyes as she turned away, only to freeze as she heard a sound much like that of wood on wood when you would try to light a fire when you’re camping. She turned back and opened her eyes to see the thorny vines start to recede and uncover the rest of Sam’s body and disappear in a flash of blinding white light. Dean’s eyes widened as he watched the scene unfold, unbelieving of the spectacle before him. The witch had admitted she had taken some creative liberties with the traditional fairytales, but surely she hadn’t enough power to do something like this? The light slowly began to fade, allowing (y/n) to sweep her gaze over Sam once again and check him for any lingering injuries the thorns may have left. When she finally reached his face, she let loose a huff of relief as she found Sam’s Hazel eyes open, a soft smile on his face as their eyes met. He moved to sit with his legs dangling over the edge of the cot, reaching out a hand to cup (y/n)’s cheek as she moved forward to help him up. She smiled at him and raised her own hand to brace against his as he ran his thumb caressed the base of her jaw. “Did you really mean all that (y/n)? Do you truly feel those things?” (Y/n) closed her eyes and allowed her head to fall in to his hold, her smile falling slightly as she realised Sam had heard every word she had professed. “Every word Sam. I’ve felt this way for years, but I could never bear to tell you, knowing that you could never truly reciprocate. And I understand, I really do. Jessica was the woman you wanted to spend you life with and…” Her words were cut short as Sam pressed his lips to hers in a tender embrace, and after a moment of surprise, she allowed herself to resign to him completely. Their lips moved against each other, a gentle dance of teeth and tongue as Sam’s free hand moved to tangle in her (h/c) locks and hers scooped under his arms and over his shoulders, pulling him closer as his own grip tightened. It was the uncomfortable cough from Dean that finally pulled them apart, resting their foreheads against each other and allowing their noses to brush against one another. “(Y/n), I have loved you since the first day we discovered the Bunker. Watching you dart around this place, the smile on your face and the excitement in your voice as you explored every room and freaked out over the size of the kitchen, it made me realise how special you truly are. And every day since, I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with everything that makes you, you. Yes, I loved Jess and, at the time, I was ready to marry her and make a life with her. But that was fourteen years ago, and I was a different person then. I was trying to escape this life and find a sense of normal that we can never truly attain. But realising what I felt for you, it made me realise that I could still have that happiness, no matter what life I’m living, as long as I’d found the right person.” Sam pulled her into yet another sweet kiss before finally releasing his hold and turning to face the other three men in the room. His eyes raked over Dean and Cas as they clung to each other and smiled. “Took you long enough, Jerk.” Dean only smiled back, moving to ruffle the man’s hair and pull him in to a hug. “Could say the same for you, Bitch. I always told you if you didn’t cut your hair, you’d start to look like a Princess. Seriously, we need to cut this.” (Y/n) laughed as Sam pushed at the hand on his head. She moved forward to embrace Dean in a hug of her own. “Oh, I don’t think so Deano. I like these silky locks, and if you wanna do anything to ‘em, you’ll have to go through me.” The jokes and banter continued late in to the following morning, before everyone was so exhausted they could barely keep their eyes open. In spite of Jack assuring them that there was no chance of Sam or Dean falling back under the spell from simply falling asleep, (y/n) and Cas still insisted they stay in the room with their respective new partners, not that either brother particularly complained about the situation. They each retired to their rooms, curling up on the bed together and allowing the exhaustion to lull them to sleep in the warmth of the other’s embrace.

[w2soneshots]

First kiss -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: alcohol consumption.

summary: you and Harry take the next step in your relationship.

I met Harry at a bar in London 2 weeks ago. He asked for my number at the end of the night. We were talking back and forth for almost a week when he asked me out, and I said yes. Today is the day of our date, he said he was taking me for dinner and that he would pick me up but to be ready by six. I chose a black corset, blue jeans and some little black heels to dress it up. I did my makeup and styled my hair half up half down. As I was finishing my final touches (perfume and lipgloss) I got a text.

Harry🤍

I'll be at yours in 10 :)

y/n

I’ll be outside x

I grabbed my bag and left my apartment. I got in the lift and was soon in the lobby waiting for Harry to text me that he was outside. A few minutes later he did just that and I walked outside into the cold wind. I quickly spotted and jumped into his car. "Fuck me It's cold out there." I said as I did my seatbelt. he chuckled. Once we arrived and got out of the car my mouth dropped slightly at the sight of the restaurant "oh my god, this place is always fully booked how did you get a reservation?" I turned to Harry. He shrugged his shoulders "luck?"

When we got inside and were seated a waiter came up to us "what would you like to drink this evening?" I glanced at Harry and then the menu "um, could I get a vodka cranberry please?" I said. "Of course, and you sir?" He said looking to Harry. "Peroni please mate."

Our drinks came soon after and we ordered our starters and mains. "Thank you, wow this looks delicious!" I said once the waiter placed my food down in front of me. "Will that be all?" He asked. "Yes. thank you." Harry said. The waiter smiled, nodded his head and walked towards another table.

Once we finished our food we decided to get dessert at the little ice cream parlour I spotted on the way in. We walked across the road and entered the shop. "Hello, what can I get for you?" The kind looking woman behind the counter asked. "Can I get one scoop of mint choc chip, in a cone please." I said. "I'll have the same, thank you." Harry said. The woman nodded and began making our order.

She passed us our ice creams and I offered to pay but Harry insisted that he would. I thanked the woman and we left the shop. A comfortable silence fell upon us as walked so only the sounds of us eating our ice creams and the quiet London traffic filled the air. Once we finished we walked back towards Harry's car. "y/n?" He said breaking the silence. "yea?" I replied turning to him. We stood trapped in each other's eyes for a few seconds before I began glancing at his lips, and he did the same.

First kisses don't seem to mean as much as you get older as the amount of those experiences increases. But in this moment standing in front of Harry was making butterflies fly around in my stomach, my palms sweat slightly and my heart beat so fast it felt as though it would explode. "Kiss me." I said. He didn't wait a second before our lips connected. We shared a sweet kiss before he pulled away. We both stood with little smiles growing on our lips.

...And that's when I knew I'd fallen for Harry Lewis.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Clap backs here comes Meghan by u/Mickleborough

Clap backs, here comes Meghan For entertainment and elucidation, here’s a little list of articles which appear to be responses to public criticism of Meghan. Some look like definite clap backs, others may be an attempt to distract, or are click bait.Note that the links are not archived. The article titles should be fairly indicative of the criticism that was being defended against.Yes, Meghan Markle wears a bra. Get the f**k over it, Stylist, August 2018 (flashed a bra at a wedding, where she wore black).Meghan Markle accidentally left the tag on her dress, and we’ve all been there, Cosmopolitan, October 2018 (tag visible as Meghan stepped off the plane in Tonga).Meghan Markle Just Suffered The Most Relatable, If Unfortunate, Wardrobe Malfunction, marie claire Australia, November 2018 (see-through blue skirt in New Zealand).Meghan Markle: why are people so shocked that the Duchess of Sussex sweats?, Stylist, January 2020 (damp pit patches at Canada House). There seems to be a resident sugar at Stylist - it’s the same writer aggressively defending Meghan.Prince Harry and Meghan Markle turn down invitation to present at Oscars, Hello!, February 2020.The Story Behind Meghan Markle’s Iconic Messy Bun Is Finally Revealed, Town & Country, April 2020 (her wedding hair)Why Meghan Markle wears her shoes one size too big, Hello!, June 2020. 🤡This is apparently why Meghan Markle’s wedding dress didn’t fit, marie claire, October 2020.The Duchess of Sussex is a great example of why we should all find our own uniform, Harper’s Bazaar, September 2021 (temperature-inappropriate wardrobe in New York faux royal tour).Meghan Markle skips Meg Gala as Prince Harry gets ready for King’s Coronation, Daily Record, May 2023 (something about getting enough security for Meghan - same reason for no-show at Oscars).Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are ‘Shocked’ by Reaction to NYC Car Chase: ‘Absolutely Not Exaggerated’, Us, May 2023.UTA Chief Jeremy Zimmer Slammed over Public Shaming of Meghan Markle: ‘Shocking Display of Bad Taste’, Variety, June 2023.Not to mention all the episodes of the diarrhoea (oral and aural) known as Archetypes.Test: In this extract from Spare, spot the attempts to rewrite The Meghan Story.Aquamarines? I don’t believe it. post link: https://ift.tt/JSmkcLy author: Mickleborough submitted: June 29, 2023 at 03:35PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[wqbytop100]

wqby

Top 100 for the week ending June 4, 2023

Where You Are ----John Summit, Hayla -4

Sweet Goodbye---Robin Schulz, *Svidden remix -1

Pwdr Blu-----Kx5 f/Brother -3

Submarine----Seeb, BANNERS, SUPER-Hi -2

Borderline---Tove Lo -5

Pearls----Jessie Ware -6

Rhyme Dust----MK & Dom Dolla -10

Crying On The Dancefloor----Sam Feldt, Jonas Blue, Endless Summer, Violet Days -7

Waterfall----Michael Schulte, R3HAB -8

Misbehave----Ship Wrek, Disco Lines -29

If We Ever Broke Up----Mae Stephens -12

Seasons----Bebe Rexha, Dolly Parton -13

High Heels - Party Down Under ----Flo Rida, Walker Hayes, *Sam Feldt remix version -11

Jacare----Sofi Tukker -18

Here We Go Again----Oliver Tree, David Guetta -9

Happy-----NF -14

Sparks -----MEDUZA, DEL-30, Mali-Koa -16

Waffle House----Jonas Brothers -17

Feels This Good----Sigala, Mae Stephens, Caity Baser, Stefflon Don -20

One Time----Alan Walker -19

Just The Kinda Feeling----Yotto, Lost Boy -21

Stereo----Sum Sun, Sly Chance -15

Upside Down-----MEDUZA, Poppy Baskcomb -30

The Way----Manchester Orchestra -39

Gone (Da da Da)-----Imanbek, Jay Sean -34

Chemical----Post Malone -22

Reborn----SIDEPIECE, *Kyle Walker remix -27

Part Of Me---Cian Ducrot -28

Something's Coming---Cheat Codes, Lady A -26

No One Dies For Love----Tove Lo -36

Take Me Home---VAVO f/Clara Mae -31

Hungry Heart---Steve Aoki, Galantis, Hayley Kiyoto -24

Good Time----The Dare -23

Church Outfit----Poppy -32

Heaven---Niall Horan -25

So Many Ways To Get Downtown----Proxima Parada -33

<>River---Mylie Cyrus -(re entry)

Everything You Have Done---GENESI, MEDUZA -37

Bright Lights----Kx5 f/ AR/CO -38

Begin Again---Jessie Ware -49

Back To You---Bob Moses, Amtrac -40

Say Say Say----Kygo, Michael Jackson, Paul McCartney -42

Dancing's Done---Ava Max -43

Dancing All Alone---Morgan Page, TELYKAST -45

I Wrote A Song----Mae Muller -48

Left & Right----Ownboss, FAST BOY -41

Dancing In The Courthouse---Dominic Fike -47

Psychos----Jenny Lewis -51

It's Euphoric----Georgia -52

<>Mrs Hollywood---Go-Jo -(re-entry)

On & On----Armin Van Buuren -53

Fantasy (Tricky Disco)----W&W, Harris & Ford, TRIIIPL3 INC. -54

Jaded---Mylie Cyrus -55

Anyway---Cash Cash, RuthAnne -44

Welcome To Dinna----Francis Mercier, Black Uhuru -56

Himbo---Curtis Waters -57

<>Lost Souls----Jeffery Sutorius, Jay Hardway -(re entry)

No Sleep----Regard, Ella Henderson -58

Growing Pains----Jastin Martin -59

Whistle----Jax Jones, Calum Scott -46

I Feel Love---Freya Ridings -61

Rain On My Mind---Diplo, Paul Cauthen, Sierra Ferrell -65

Revelations-----ZHU, Devault, Babyjake -69

Kill For You----Gigi Perez -63

Different Side----Michael Bibi, KinAbau, Audio Bullys -72

***Stars---PNAU, Bebe Rexha, Ozuna -(new)

You Were Right----ILLENIUM, Wooli, Grabbitz -73

Voodoo---Gorgon City -74

Dance Around It----Joel Corry, Caity Baser -75

Die For A Night---A R I Z O N A -83

Back To This----Matt Sassori, Soshy -88

Redlight----BETWEEN FRIENDS, TEEZO TOUCHDOWN -78

***Don't Call Me----Slushi, Leah Kate -(new entry)

Roll The Credits----Danielle Ponder -84

End Of Time---Zara Larson -89

Blood & Sugar----BOYS LIKE GIRLS -90

Dressed For A Funeral -Groupthink, Sunday Scaries -94

Won't Forget These Days ---Furry In The Slaughter House, *VIZE remix -97

***What A Life---Dave Aude, Jeffery Jones -(new)

Sometimes---Snakechips, Daya, Earthgang -91

Gangster---W&W, VINAI -98

You'll Never Walk Alone----Duncan Laurence -99

Vroom----Hoodie Allen, Connor Price -68

Sweat---ESSEL -70

***All You Need Is Love ---Nicky Romero, Jonas Blue, Nico Santos -(new)

***I Just Wanna Know---Katherine Li -(new)

<>Fire With Fire---Armin Van Buuren, HRRTZ, Julia Church -(re-entry)

***Bleach (Move On)---Cash Cash -(new)

***More Than Yeasterday---Two Friends, Russell Dickerson -(new)

See It Through----Durand Jones -76

***Just Alone---Heartaake -(new)

Something Like This---Chat Faker -77

***Maybe Next Time---Jamie Miller -(new)

The Perfect Pair---Lovejoy -82

Toxic---AnnenMayKantereit -67

***Queencard----(G)I-DLE -(new)

Miss Me The Same---Sara Kays, Anson Seabra -64

Sing Your Lullaby---R3HAB, Mike Williams -50

Run A Red Light---Everything But The Girl -60

The Throne---DJ Minx -62

12off

Break For You---Valley Baby Again---Fred Again Talk To Me----Eli & Fur This Is What Losing Someone Feels Like---JVKE Hey Little Mama----Morgan Evans Deja Vu----Abraham Alexander f/ Mavis Staples Like I Use To---Sonny Federa, Paul Woolford Glad U Came---Jason Derulo I Will Fall----Pet Shop Boys Highs & Lows----Chance Pena Change----LAUREL Eyes Wide Shut----ILLENIUM Avril Lavigne

4<> re -entry 10***new on this chart

[hawkmoskowitzlover]

Part 1 and 2

Blood in the water chapter 1

Ace Degenerate

Amelia wakes up to sound of giggling over the baby monitor and she sits up and rubs her eyes and gets dressed into a pair of nike shorts and a Harry Potter shirt that she cut to make it into a crop top she puts her hair into a messy bun.   Amelia heads across the hall to the nursery and she picks up Elias and changes his diaper and puts him into a blue onsie and blue jeans and socks and she puts him back into his crib and she heads to Stella and changes her diaper and puts her into a tights and a onsie that has a tutu and a hairband that has a bow on it.   She carries them down the halls and she feeds them their bottles and she has a quick breakfast and she gets on her phone and texts with Yasmin who is Stellas godmother and Moon is Elias godmother. Yasmin and Moon made Sam join the friend group and Yasmin and Moon are the only friends that stayed by her side when she got pregnant so when school starts in 1 week she will be an outcast.  At lunch she hear the door bell and she answers and sees Eli and Demetri and she let's them in and Demetri pulls out a bag of fast food so she leads them to her room and she sits on her bed and pulls out a baby monitor  and she looks at the boys and Demetri speaks for them and says " Amelia you can sit with us if you want."  I nod and then Elias start to cry so I shoot up and I run to them in the nursery and I pick him up and he stops crying he wants company so I bring him into my room and I sit down with him in my hands and Eli looks at me and I smirk and I say " You want to hold your handiwork."  He blushes and sits down on the bean bag chair and my phone vibrates and Demetri checks and says " Yasmin texted and says I got loads of baby clothes for Stella and Elias and they adorbes."    I smile and I look at Elias who has Blue eyes and he has a cheeky smirk he is gonna be a Heartbreaker.  

2 days later

I find out that Yasmin did a hit and run on some loser with moon and Sam but the bum was okay. I shake my head and I put on  a pink skater skirt and a pale  blue blouse and my put my hair in French braid and I put on my black vans and I thankful that Amanda took the twins to daycare and I grab my purse and I head to the mall and I go into Forever 21 and I buy some cute back to school clothes and I buy some new stuff and I head to the comic store and I see Demetri and Eli and I walk over to them and Demetri asks  " Where are Elias and Stella?"  I say " They started Daycare yesterday."  They nod and Eli hands me some money for support no one of the adults no that he is the baby daddy. My father will freak out and his mom will not look at him the  same but he told his birth father but he is loaded his last name is some color but Eli has never met the man.

I am back at home and I put on some sweat pants and I put on a sports bra and I start to do some exercises and I work out and I put on some music.  I sing along to Stairway to heaven and I do some sit ups. I stop when I feel a presence in the doorway and I see dad and he looks at me and says " Amelia I want you on your best behavior at school and stay away from the no good punk that got you into trouble last year."  I nod and he leaves and I sit on my bed and I go on my laptop and I go on my Facebook and I see my posts about the twins got some likes. I wasn't made fun of because I had Yasmin and Moon protecting me but I lost my popularity and I was made to sit with Demetri and Eli and Sam became popular.   Eli helped me name them but we can't get along all because of that stupid night in August where I was sad and angry at my dad and we hooked up and I got pregnant and they were a week early the due date was May 11th but they were born May 4th.   

Elias Aziel Larusso was born first at 5:25 Am

Then Stella Iris Larusso born 5:35 am and they are quite close and have  a bond only twins can have.

[larrylimericks]

7Jun22

Stunt-blue sweats and beanie of green, A disgruntled blueberry was seen “Househunting” with her— They need closets bigger For her merch and his queerness, it seems.

[watchmegetobsessed]

https://www.instagram.com/tv/CWsBjsogtu7/?utm_medium=copy_link

my brain straight thought about him edging you and all you want is for him to finally just fvck you and then he say what is in the video 😭😭

EDGING

A/N: you asked for it and im serving it. get ready for the juice!

WARNING: adult content, edging... bc he is just obsessed with it.

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

He is still wearing his light blue shiny shirt.

And nothing else

You’re lying across the king sized bed of the hotel room you share, only your lacy thong covering your soaking wet pussy that’s throbbing for him, a pained whimper slips through your trembling lips when he steps closer to the bed and wraps a hand around his rock hard cock, staring down at you with greedy, dark eyes. This is not the soft Harry who likes to cuddle you every night, who brings breakfast to bed just to see you smile first thing in the morning, who always surprises you with little gifts to brighten your day.

No, this version of him is dominant, demanding and in full control of you. Just how you like him.

He came off the stage extra cheeky tonight and judging from the way how he could barely keep his hands off of you at the venue, you knew things would get heated pretty fast as soon as you’re alone.

“What do you want, baby?” he murmurs, a sly smirk on his lips as he gives himself a few slow, but sturdy pumps.

“Harry, please!” you moan, your thighs shutting closed to create some friction at least. He’s been taking his sweet time with you, he stripped out of your dress as if you were a gift to be unwrapped, made you stand against the wall as he sank to his knees, biting into your ass cheeks, his hands coming to tease between your legs that were shaking from excitement. Then he threw you to the bed, like an absolute cave man and made you watch him strip from his light blue pants and underwear, leaving him only in his shiny shirt, because you told him before the show how much you liked it.

His chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, some of his post concert sweat is still glistening on his warm skin and you’re dying to touch him, but you know if you don’t do what he tells you, you won’t get what you want.

“Keep them open, baby. Want to see how desperate you are for me,” he warns you, a hand coming to push your knees apart so he sees your wet cunt. “Touch yourself, let me see just how wet you are.”

Your hand moves down your chest and stomach until you reach the elastic of your underwear, but before you could reach under the fabric, he speaks up.

“No, over the thong. Want to see it drenched.”

Another whimper falls from your lips as you press your fingers against your clit, finally feeling your nerves reacting to a touch, but it’s not the one you desire the most. You move your two fingers up and down, pressing the lacy fabric into your cunt, between the lips as it soaks up your arousal.

“Does it feel good? Or do you want something else, baby?” he hums, cocking his head to the side as he keeps stroking himself lazily.

“Feels good, but I want you!” you breathe out as you try to get yourself closer to relief, but your body is working against you. It only wants Harry and you can’t blame yourself.

“Yeah? You want this?” he asks glancing down at his throbbing dick. Your voice dies in your throat so you only nod, but it’s not enough for him. “I want to hear you, baby. Beg for it.”

You moan at his words, your thighs twitching to close again, but you remember what he said about wanting them open so you force yourself to obey.

“Please!” is all you manage to get out. Harry steps closer to the bed, his hand letting go of his cock before moving to grab your wrist and pushing it away from you. With one swift movement, he rips the last piece of clothing, making you gasp from the sudden pinching you feel as the fabric gives up around your body, and he throws it to the side without batting an eye. It’s not the first piece he has ruined and surely not the last one either.

He places a knee to the edge of the bed, leaning over your shaking form, his cock springing freely with each movement he makes and the way his tongue slides across his lips gives you shivers.

“You know just one please is never enough for me,” he warns, his voice low and raspy after tonight’s show and you could come just from his words at this point.

“Fuck, Harry! Just… Ugh!”

It’s torture, how his fingertips tap on your clit a few times before drawing a few slow circles, teasing and playing with you.

“Just what, huh? You want my cock? Does your pussy want to be properly fucked?”

“Yes!” you cry out, your whole body on fire. He grabs the base of his cock, brings his hips closer, just enough that he can drag the tip across your lips, pushing a tiny bit into your hole, but pulling back right away. “Harry!” you moan almost as if you were in pain, but in a sense, you are. Every second that passes without him inside you is a painful one and you want him to end your misery.

“I told you, I want to hear you. You ask nicely, you get it. Stop being a brat and use your words.”

Fucking hell, this man will be the death of you.

“Harry, please! I need you to fuck me, need your cock inside me, please! I’m begging!”

The smirk on his face is so smug, so confident, you love it even if he is making you suffer. You’d do anything for him and he knows exactly just how much power he holds over you.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he chuckles, dragging the tip across you once again, tapping it a few times on your clit, smearing your wetness all over him and you as well. He pushes himself against your hole again, just the very end of the tip entering you, but doesn’t move, only watches you through lustful eyes as you fall apart for him.

“Harry! Fuck me, please!” you cry out, one hand coming flat against his toned stomach as he moves a bit closer, hovering over you. Running your hands up his chest, his neck, you lace your fingers through his hair and pull him down for a needy kiss that he returns gladly. His lips are sucking and tugging on yours, tongue invading your mouth, melting together with yours as his cock is still not inside you.

“Love it when you are so desperate for me, baby,” he growls, positioning his hips so his cock slips between your lips and he moves a little, slipping between them, the tip pushing against your clit over and over again.

He keeps this up, his head moving to the crook of your neck, marking you up as always so you already know you’ll have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow, but now you just want to feel him everywhere.

Then he pulls back, lining his cock up with you and you’re sure he’ll finally give you what you want, but just as you feel the tip entering you again… he pulls back. You gasp, tugging on his hair a little harder as he smirks down at you, so pleased with himself.

“Harry…” you breathe out, but he just chuckles, enjoying the game.

“Edging,” he then murmurs and with one swift movement, he thrusts inside you.

He fills you up fast and so perfectly, you’re convinced you were made for each other. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him, starts moving rapidly, slamming his hips against yours mercilessly, pounding into you just how you like it. One hand comes to your thigh and he urges you to lock his waist with your legs, you’re more than happy to obey, allowing his cock to bury deeper into you.

“So needy for me, yeah? Who fucks you the best, baby? Let me hear it from you,” he groans into your neck, wet lips brushing against the spot he sucked on earlier.

“You, Harry! Only you!”

“That’s right. You’re mine,” he growls before biting into the soft skin, making you gasp from the sensation.

He is pounding into you so hard, you keep sliding further up on the bed until your head reaches the headboard. He stops for a moment, turning the two of you around so you’re on top, one hand on his chest, the other holding onto the headboard and you barely get situated before his hands grab onto your hips and he starts thrusting up into you, doing the job himself instead of making you ride him.

“Fuck! You’re so good, Harry! I’m so close!”

“Want to cum, baby? You think you deserve it?” he teases you, a few curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, his whole body glistening in the dim lighting.

“Yes! Please, let me cum!” you beg, your eyes meeting his and an animalistic growl erupts from his chest. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you, caging you in them as one of his hands comes to your lower back, guiding you, hinting that he wants you to finish it.

“Ride my cock and make yourself cum, Y/N. Come on, I want to see you using me.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as you start moving your hips, arms clinging onto his broad shoulders. His face is buried in your neck and chest, kissing you wherever he can reach. Though you love the shirt on him, you want to feel him fully naked, so you tug at the fabric and he is quick to rid himself from it, his naked, toned arms wrapping back around you as you relentlessly ride him, feeling your orgasm building up and nearing.

“My girl is using my cock so well, look at that. You like it? You like my cock?”

“I love it,” you nod eagerly and craning your neck you capture his lips just when you feel the end nearing. “Can I cum? Please, Harry, I want to cum so badly!” you beg to him against his parted lips, your breathing mixing together.

“Yes. Do it! Cum all over my cock, baby!”

That’s all you need to explode, pleasure washing over your entire body like a tsunami and you scream his name, your walls tightening around him which brings him over the edge as well. He cums inside you, filling you up so well you’re sure it’s gonna be dripping out of you very soon. He is gasping and panting against your chest, his breathing warming your already heated skin.

You stay like that coming off your high, his hands gently rubbing your thighs, ass, hips and back, lips peppering soft kisses onto your collarbones. When he moves the two of you, laying you to the bed you grunt as he slips out of you, leaving you so empty, already aching to feel him inside you again even though you’re completely ruined at this point.

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he mumbles, kissing your lips softly before getting up from the bed and disappearing in the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and he carefully cleans you up, but you don’t miss the smug grin on his face when he sees just how good he fucked you, his semen dripping out of your now sensitive cunt.

“Like what you see?” you chuckle tiredly.

“I sure do. Love to see my girl full of me.”

“And you’re full of yourself,” you scoff, but reach for him to pull him down for another kiss. “I have to get up to pee, but I’m so tired.”

“We also should have a shower,” he smiles, pecking the tip of your nose. He reaches under you and easily picks you up into his arms bridal style and you have no idea how he has the energy to carry you to the bathroom after a show and the way he just fucked you. You stood at the backstage the whole time and only rode him at the end and you’re still completely sent.

He carefully sets you down to the toilet and you do your business without a care as he starts the water in the shower, grabbing two towels for you. When you’re finished, he helps you into the spacious walk in shower so you don’t slip and then insists to soap and wash you, taking good care of you. And just like that, he is back to caring boyfriend mode.

And you just love all versions of him.

[1d1195]

Made to be VI

Read the rest of the series here: Made to be

Warnings: 18+, soft, gentle, sweet love it's romantic smut (I hope)

Notes: I think the first part is a little disjointed from the second but I hope you’ll forgive me because I refuse to let a moment go by without celebrating the love of my life.

“Do you ever...feel like we were... made to be in love?” Her question was so nervous. Like Harry would say no. Like he hadn’t been dreaming of meeting someone as wonderful as her since he was old enough to care about romance. As if he didn’t think about all the poems that were written about love and how not even one captured her beauty or how they all paled in comparison to her declarations of love.

February

Harry was freezing. He normally wouldn’t have noticed except for the last month and a half he had been exceedingly warm—borderline sweating—when he woke up beside the angel in their now shared bed. The air in the room was cold, too. He pouted at the premise of waking up without her. His feet felt the pinpricks of chilliness gripping every part of his skin and he just wanted to snuggle her. It almost broke his heart that he was alone in their chilly apartment.

Hi

I TOTALLY forgot to do some prep at school. I went in so early. I’m so, so sorry but wanted you to sleep. Just have to press start on the kettle, mug and tea is all set out, ready to go. Also made some muffins for you too—they’re hopefully still warm.

See you soon!

She even doodled a pretty smiley face and heart. He couldn’t be mad at her, but he already missed her. It was sweet about the tea and the muffins. It was so nice, but he wanted the warmth of her body against his. Still, he put on a brave face, stuck the note to the fridge under a magnet she brought home from the England airport, and made his way to the shower hurriedly thinking about seeing her sooner rather than later.

*

They were abundantly careful at school, but he thought he could bravely sneak a kiss in before the other teachers and students arrived. They had gone to HR as soon as they returned from break. There was no rule against it, it wasn’t even frowned upon. HR appreciated the disclosure, but it wasn’t necessary. For that they were grateful, but they didn’t want it to be a thing, so they figured they would wait a while before telling students and their other coworkers. The fun of their students guessing was enjoyable and they thought it would be a nice end of the year surprise to let them know it didn’t change anything about their teaching relationship.

“Good morning, love,” he called from the doorway of his room as he unlocked it. That wasn’t uncommon for him to call her love. He had called other women in the school, love in a platonic sort of way. Students were none the wiser to the pet name.

“Hi, Harry,” she called back. He smiled gratefully, ready to go see her the moment he set his belongings down. Harry flicked the light switch and he laughed immediately.

“Is this the prep you had to do?” He wondered.

He could hear her shuffling behind him, and she made her way through the door. There were so many good things about living with the sweet girl but seeing her outfit in the morning before she made her way to school was one of his favorites. He was grateful for all the previews of her attire before they got to school, but back before they lived together his heart fluttered at the sight of her looking utterly lovely as always. Having this moment again was a nice reminder of the happy beginnings of what once was. Today she wore a dark blue dress—almost looked like a shirt—it seemed to fall over her body perfectly and she paired it with tall boots that hugged her legging clad calves. Harry never really paid any mind to women’s fashion, but he was obsessed with her of course. He loved to look at her outfits and admire how beautiful she looked. Her hair was pushed back by a headband so Harry could see into her eyes without any of her silky hair getting in the way. He didn’t know she wore makeup until they lived together because she used so little and he couldn’t even bring himself to tell her that she didn’t need it (she didn’t) but it was so pretty on her, he loved it. As he always thought, she looked like she was made to be the most beautiful, picture-perfect teacher.

“It was,” she said softly. “The kids told me they wrangled it out of you...they needed me to know the second they found out,” she smiled. Harry looked at the balloons tied to his chair. There were cards all over his desk and there were messages all over the board from students along with her own message—the largest in the middle of course, it wasn’t a confession of loving him that would set the students into a frenzy, just a Happy Birthday in bold letters. There was also a stack of mini cupcakes on his desk, enough for all his students and then some throughout the day. “Happy birthday, Harry,” she whispered softly peeking at the hallway and then closing the door quickly.

Pressing onto her toes she took both sides of his face in her hands and her nose pressed against his. “Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly, her eyebrows knitting together nervously. Harry would never get over her nervousness about the situation. He hoped it never went away—not because he wanted her to be nervous around him, but because it was the most precious thing he had ever experienced.

“Oh, always, always, always, m’love,” he answered. His arms encircled her waist and he brought his lips to hers for his first birthday kiss with her—but it wasn’t going to be the last.

*

Harry was grateful he could stand across the hall from her while he was showered with birthday wishes. Students gave him fist bumps and high fives. Several blew noise makers in his face and threw confetti at his door. It was extravagant and unnecessary, and it made his entire day.

“Honestly, I figured with all the cupcakes you might want some fruit, so I made you this fruit salad and if you hate it, please just pretend you don’t so you don’t hurt my feelings,” she said sweetly setting it in front of him at lunch time.

He chuckled and shook his head. “’Ve never met anyone as sweet as you, m’love,” he murmured.

She smiled and sat across from him at the desks while they ogled each other. Harry stretched his legs in front of him and she crossed one thigh over the other. She had no choice but to have her leg pressed to Harry’s knee and it was the only way they could touch while at school, but it was enough. “Happy birthday,” she said again.

“You’re so in fo’ it, kitten,” he said shaking his head. “Can’t believe y’got around me knowing your birthday. Then y’jus’ figured mine out.”

“Well, your mom also mentioned it at Christmas. She said it was freezing the day you were born. Had her up all hours of the night. Thought for sure you were going to be a January baby.”

He smirked at his fruit salad fondly. “I’ve always liked February,” he said. “S’very pink and lovely.”

“Well of course, you were born the first day of February. It couldn’t be anything but lovely,” she said simply. She wasn’t being cute nor flirty. She stated it so obviously. It melted Harry. He wanted to kiss her more than anything in that moment and never stop.

“I really want t’kiss you,” he whispered.

Her cheeks reddened at the idea when anyone could walk in at any moment. “I do too,” she promised on a shaky breath and followed it with a sweet smile.

That was enough for him.

*

The first time they had sex was a weekend in February. Harry didn’t plan it exactly, but he knew he wanted it to be a day where they had time. When there was no need to rush and if they wanted, they could snuggle all day in bed. He didn’t have to go hang out with his friends and she didn’t have to do any chores or catch up with her family. He wanted to be sure that they had all the time in the world so he could do nothing but assure her that everything was right, and they didn’t have to do anything but enjoy the other one’s presence.

“We...don’t have to, kitten,” he said softly breaking from her lips that he had been kissing for so long. Her hips had inadvertently bucked upwards to meet his hard body as they made out on the couch like teenagers. The movie she put on was long forgotten, she didn’t even remember the name of it. It wasn’t that she needed to have sex with Harry to prove something or anything, but the thought of being so close to him sent a shiver down her spine.

He pressed his forehead against hers. Up until this weekend, he rarely had thought about it, too. They were just so busy with school and tired when they got home. The kisses were more than enough. Harry of course adored the idea of being so close to her—the closest that two people could exist in one instance. The amount of skin and the idea of her naked body pressed to his sent his heart into a craze.

“Well, I know...” she said her cheeks warming at the idea that only she wanted to do this and not Harry. She didn’t mind stopping, it was just she could feel how much (she thought) he wanted to, he was hard against her leg, and she thought it was the perfect day to do this. She didn’t have the luxury of showing what she wanted like Harry could. But she did. It was the first weekend they had time to relax and think about something other than school and their busy plans and so on.

“Oh, angel,” he chuckled sensing how distraught she felt suddenly. “I want to,” he said huskily, his voice dropping an octave as he brought his hand to her face. “Want t'make y'feel s'good and loved,” he promised. “S’jus’...” he brushed his thumb on her lip making her heart ache with wanting him so much closer to her even though he was already laid on top of her.

She knew what he was saying. They had done so many things in their relationship in the wrong societal-standard order. They had lived together before they started dating. Even now, they had only shared this apartment for just over a month. They hadn’t even defined being in a relationship—although it was quite obvious to each other that this was a relationship.

But she was in a relationship for seven years. The intimacy—while it had been depleting for the past year—was extremely important to her and she didn’t know if it was right or wrong to feel this way. Everything they did was so embarrassingly chaste. His hands never roamed over her body, her clothes always stayed on, she hadn’t even seen his bare legs or seen him shirtless. Of course, she imagined tearing that collared shirt off his body every day at school and figuring out once and for all what was underneath it. But besides wanting, they simply hadn’t had the time.

“It’s just I ruin everything,” she grumbled in annoyance.

He shook his head. “No, love,” he said simply. “Y’really don’t,” he promised. “We can...” he sighed. “I jus’ want t’do whatever you want.”

She was quiet for a long moment contemplating his words. He pressed soft, gentle kisses along her cheek, the one that was bruised nearly two months before. She could still remember the first time he pressed kisses like this on her face so lightly, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t hurt her sore skin. “Harry,” she closed her eyes nervously and took a deep breath in.

“Yes, m’love?” He asked running the back of his hand against her cheek stinging her almost as much as the kisses just did.

“I really want you,” she whispered. “Really badly.”

His heart was racing, his head spinning, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to take all her clothes off. “Kitten, can y’open your eyes, please?” He asked. She obliged. They eyed Harry nervously still even though there wasn’t a world in which he could deny her of anything. He was wrapped around her whole hand, let alone a finger. “You can have all of me,” he told her. “M’all yours.”

“All mine?” She repeated as a question her breath shaky. The heaviness of his words made her ache all over. He was all hers. All hers. All hers. All hers. The sentiment was too much.

He nodded once and dropped a kiss to her lips. “All yours, angel...Do...do y’want t’go to the bedroom, love?”

She worried her vocal chords would snap from the intense emotion she felt. Her throat tightened as she thought about how perfect Harry was and she didn’t want to ruin this day by doing something embarrassing like crying. So, she nodded instead.

*

They weren’t strangers to sex. She of course hadn’t been with very many people being in a relationship for so many years. Harry didn’t have a ton of partners either. But this was so different than any of the times before for either of them. She said it that first night she stayed with him, she felt so safe with Harry, always. He never made her scared or nervous. She felt so cared for when he was around. Everything was warm and lovely.

They were stripping of their clothes at the foot of their bed. She went first at Harry’s insistence. “Please kitten,” he practically begged. “Jus’ wanna see you,” he whispered. So, she peeled her clothes off ignoring his passionate, burning gaze that ached her all over. Taking a deep breath, she unhooked her bra from the back and let it fall off her arms in front of her.

Harry’s lips parted slightly, and he wished he had more grace than he did in this moment, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re stunning, angel,” he breathed quietly when she was finally all bare, except for underwear, in front of him. Her cheeks turned pink at his attention, and she wished she kept her bra on instead of feeling so exposed.

The way Harry looked at her made her stomach flip. There was of course the element of wanting nothing but primal, unadulterated sex but he also gazed at her as if she was the loveliest sculpture in all the world. His eyes ran over her entire body drinking in every inch and she didn’t know what to do but just stand there. “Kitten, I love you so much, you are so beautiful,” he said eventually tearing his eyes from her body and meeting her gaze again.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a sting in the back of her eyes that she wished wasn’t there. It would be completely embarrassing to cry at a time like this. But it was the first time he said it other than in response to her admitting she was in love with him at Christmas. She wanted to be cute and ask him if it was just because she was naked and about to have sex with him. But she knew that wasn’t true and she didn’t want him to think she thought anything but lovely thoughts about him. She smiled at him shyly and looked at the floor before he started to move.

Slowly he slid his pants off. She unabashedly admired the muscles of his legs, thinking about how warm his thighs felt when they snuggled and spooned at night and now, in comparison, they seemed downright sinful to be without clothing. The way his tight boxers stretched over the center of his body made her eyes shift away immediately or she would be staring like a wild animal. He was perfect, of course.

His shirt came off next revealing tanned and inked skin along with taut muscles that stretched along his belly. There was a dire urge to lick the outline of each abdominal muscle and she moved her gaze quickly before she did something embarrassing like licked her lips at the sight of him—even if that was what she wanted to do. “I don’t want you to put your clothes back on ever,” she said softly.

He chuckled shyly, looking a little amused at her assessment. He reached for her, pulling her toward him so her body was pressed to his. It felt electric as it always did when they touched but amplified by the amount of skin that was pressed together. He kissed her. He loved the feel of her lips against his, how her tongue would lightly brush over his lip every so often to get a taste. But this kiss felt deeper. The skin contact felt like fire.

Harry guided her to lay down and she pulled him down on top of her just like they were on the couch. His body was so warm, and her hands roamed all over his skin trying to touch as much of it as she possibly could. “Are you okay, m’love?” He whispered gently as he pressed long kisses along the length of her neck.

“M’okay,” she said. “Are you?” She asked anxiously.

He chuckled softly into her skin. “Yes, kitten. M’okay.”

She cupped his face in both hands and brushed her thumb across his cheek where his dimple usually resided. “I love you,” she said simply.

Harry’s face softened at her words. “Yeah?” He smiled.

She nodded. “So much.”

Harry pressed another kiss to her mouth, and she felt it in her toes. His mouth was so warm and gentle. Everything about touching Harry was perfect. “Can...” he swallowed nervously touching the small fabric at her hips, the only thing keeping them any semblance of clothed. “Would it be okay—” She took Harry’s fingers and pulled the elastic around her hips down assuring Harry he could do whatever he wanted with her. “M’gonna make you feel s’good, love,” he promised.

“I know,” she barely let the words escape. Her head was spinning. Harry lowered himself, kissing a path down her leg that her underwear followed until she was finally, totally bare in front of him. She watched at his eyes roamed over all her skin, settling at her center for a second before returning to memorizing every inch of her body. Still feeling completely exposed, she cleared her throat before speaking again. Only one other person had ever seen her body like this. She didn’t know if it was everyone’s cup of tea or what. Having Harry look at her like she was the only woman he had ever seen was making her anxiously crazy she had never been seen like this. Not in a seven-year relationship. “Do...is it okay—am I...?” She tried to start several sentences not knowing what she was trying to ask. She just knew she wanted to please Harry as much as he promised to please her.

“Kitten,” he said almost sternly, but his voice was still gentle. His eyes were still roaming over her skin but eventually they settled on gazing into her eyes. He cupped the side of her face and rubbed his thumb over her skin. “Please don’t ask m’if I like your body or if s’okay.”

Her face felt warm, and she turned her head from him shyly. His stare was so loving it turned her to mush. It was hard to focus on what she wanted to say let alone think when he was looking at her. “S’just...I’ve never been...looked at like this...the way you’re looking at me.”

Harry tilted her face back to him almost immediately. His thumb moved along her jaw, brushing over her soft skin. “I don’t love you for your body, kitten. I love you because you are the closest to an angel ’ve ever met. Of course, your body is s’beautiful as your soul. I don’t want t’stop looking at you for a second. Not even t’do what we both want,” he said knowingly, his eyes never left hers. She was trying to remember how to breathe. His words were so gentle and perfect. Everything about him was. “M’love, you should be in museums on display and artists should be begging for the honor to try and paint your beauty.”

She didn’t know if she knew how to speak anymore. How could she say anything after that? She felt her breath all hitched in her throat and she wondered if she could die right now. There was nothing left to be said in all the world.

*

It took so many more slow, languid, and deep kisses before Harry settled his body between her legs. Once he was there, it took another set of kisses before she finally, took it upon herself to line Harry up with her. He gasped when she reached for him, the feel of her hand was more electric on him than all the kisses they had shared. But one thing was obvious as he finally sank into her: Harry was made to be inside her. He went so slowly, it took some stretching, but she felt so whole when his pubic bone pressed firmly against her. She moaned at the sensation of him throbbing inside her, touching every part of her. “Fuck,” he whispered into the pillow beside her ear.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shifted so slightly letting her knees bend around his hips. “Is it—”

“Angel, don’t speak,” he begged. “Please,” he said rubbing his thumb against her cheek assuring her that he didn’t mean it bitterly. He rested his forehead on hers. His eyes were shut tight, he was trying not to come at the mere feel of her. If she asked anything about if it felt okay, he would lose it right there and he had the intention of nothing but pleasure for her that he refused to start with him coming immediately. She stayed silent for a moment. It was making her anxious; he knew it. “You feel s’good, kitten,” he exhaled heavily. “Promise, y’do...s’nothing about you...m’jus’...M’trying t’not...”

She grabbed his hand from her face and kissed his fingers. “You can if—”

“No, love,” he said firmly. “You’re...” he took a deep breath trying to think about anything but how soft, warm, and enticing it was to be in this position. He wanted to move but he was afraid if he even shifted a millimeter, he would ruin the whole evening. “Jus’ need a second.”

“Okay,” she whispered. Neither moved nor spoke for a moment and then Harry carefully pulled himself away and pushed back in slowly. She moaned softly. Harry grunted at the sensation pulling back out and pushing back in again as he did. The kissing had done plenty for her, for which he was grateful. He wanted to taste her and touch her, of course, but there would be more than enough time for that later—maybe later today if he wasn’t completely ruined by this event. But really, the only thing on his mind was the pleasure she felt in this moment.

“Y’okay, m’love?” he whispered pausing the small pumps into her.

“Yes,” she breathed. “You...you feel really good,” she told him sighing heavily.

“Good,” he said gently continuing the movement again. “Is there anything you want or need?” He asked.

Her heart fluttered at his question. It was so genuine and sweet she thought she would pass out. Her face felt hot, and she shook her head. “No, s’not...” she sighed with slight exasperation because she knew she was going to break his heart again. “S’never felt like this before,” her voice was barely even a whisper. His heart did break a bit but not as badly as some of the other times that she informed him of how terrible her relationship was. Selfishly, this stoked his ego just a hair and he nodded.

“Kitten,” he gently pressed a kiss to her lips, her nose, her cheeks. “If y’want anything, you jus’ ask, okay? Please don’t be shy, m’love,” he reached up and stroked her hair behind her ear. “I love you,” he said softly.

Her chest hurt at the proclamation. It was nearly too much. She was so sure she would cry. “I love you, too,” she whispered back.

A small smile graced his lips again causing that dimple to cavern his cheek. He pressed his forehead against hers again and brushed her nose with his. He stopped his current rhythm to slowly pull back, leaving her almost entirely before he pushed back in as deeply as he could. A small moan escaped her lips at the movement. He reached for both her hands, twining their fingers together as he pressed them beside her head. “Kitten,” he moaned. “M’not...m’sorry. M’not gonna last long,” he admitted pumping into her slowly still, drawing gasps and moans from her all the while.

“That’s okay,” she promised in between her gasps. “We can just do it again,” she smiled gently.

He tilted his head at her and smiled at her mischievously. It was so beautiful she wanted to take a picture of him and put him in her wallet, on the dashboard of her car, she wanted to plaster it on all four walls in her classroom and put it in every room in their apartment. That way she would be surrounded by the most beautiful smile she had ever seen every minute of the day. “I love you so much,” he said.

She giggled. “I love you, too,” it wasn’t hard to say by any means, but it was still getting easier to admit that she adored him so much. It made this moment feel so much more important when she said it.

Harry tucked his face into her neck, kissing her skin and he let out a long groan as he dropped one of her hands and used it to grip her hip. “M’so in love with you,” he whispered again. She didn't respond this time, because she noticed he wasn’t really talking to her in that moment. She used her free hand to tangle into the back of his hair, she pressed her lips to his shoulder just looking for something to kiss while he spoke. She sighed dreamily at the feel of him so intimately pressed into her. His rhythm was perfect, of course. He felt so good touching every part of her that made her body twitch and feel so utterly whole. It made her feel warm and full. She never wanted him to stop, she would stay in bed forever with him in total bliss. “Since the day I met you,” he breathed into her skin. “You were wearing polka dots,” he mumbled the memory. His voice was a little shaky. It was clear he was completely overtaken in pleasure; he could feel his release coming faster than he wanted it to. It was making him delirious with his thoughts of her. “So pretty,” he murmured. “Wanted t’know everything about you,” he said. “S’lucky t’be across the hall from you.”

She moved her legs to hike up higher on his hips causing him to somehow find himself deeper within her. He groaned for a long moment when she did, and it caused her to gasp, and she felt herself clench around him. “Oh,” she moaned. He echoed the moan against her skin and felt the way she closed around him. It was so good.

“Never even thought ‘bout this,” as he pressed down into her. Each time he elicited a moan from her lips, and she pressed her own hips back up to meet his. “S’how I knew I was done for,” he whispered. “Jus’ wanted t'be around you. Read books with you, cook with you, watch TV with you, and curl up together...” he grunted out each little task with effort. “Love you,” he said knowingly. “This is s’good, kitten,” he groaned. His words were becoming too much for her. She was never extremely vocal before and she wondered if this was how Harry always did it. It was so much on her heart, to hear his sweet, gentle words. To feel his body everywhere wrapping her in love. “M’so happy I found you,” he told her.

The impending orgasm curled in her stomach as Harry continued to roll his hips against her and he whispered the story of meeting her for the first time. Her hand was still wrapped in his, squeezing so hard she worried she would break one of his fingers. “Oh my God,” she cried.

“I know, baby,” he moaned in her ear. “I know, I love you so much,” he whispered again. She wanted him to stop talking because it was going to undo her, and she wanted to stay like this for the rest of her life. But the kind words were so perfect she really thought she would cry if he said it again. “My...” he grunted. “M’love,” he whined. “M’so lucky t’have you. Getting t’kiss you, and touch you...” Her head was so cloudy, and she wondered if she really would pass out. He was perfect, perfect, perfect. Nothing had ever felt so right as Harry being inside her. “You’re all mine,” he promised.

His words were too much. “Oh my God,” she whimpered again. “I—”

“Please, angel,” he begged, he wanted her orgasm as much as she did. It was his to have, to have her completely undone. She was everything he wanted.

“Harry!” She whined out tucking her face into the curve of his neck and shoulder. He groaned as she writhed beneath him. His chest aching at his name on her lips in throes of passion. Harry continued the gentle thrusts while her hand surely broke one of his metacarpals and her other hand made knots in his hair. Her voice was cut off as he felt the way her body fluttered around him. He groaned. “God, kitten,” he said and finally let go.

When he finally stopped pumping into her, he pulled away with a full body shiver. She gasped softly at his exit from her. She released the curls from the back of his head, but she kept his other hand in hers, she was no longer crushing it, just holding it loosely. He didn’t let go of her hand when he pulled the condom off nor when he reached for his t-shirt and wiped it over her sensitive core and then tossed it back to the floor.

He turned back to her, taking his free hand and stroking her hair gently behind her head. He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose. “I love you,” he said softly, finally breaking the silence.

“I love you, too,” she answered immediately.

He grinned. “Are y’alright?” He asked sweetly.

She nodded. “Couldn’t be better,” she promised. He nodded and kissed her lips softly again, so gently, just a brush of his lips touching hers. It sped her heart up nonetheless but was so perfect. “I think I broke your hand,” she whispered against his lips.

He chuckled shaking his head. “No,” he said. “Even if y’did, would be worth it,” he said, and she smirked. He tucked her head beneath his chin and he sighed deeply, completely content.

They were silent for a few moments. Just listening to each other’s breathing. She doesn’t know the cause of it—well of course she did, but she thought she made it past the point where it would happen. The back of her eyes started to ache with a familiar sting of crying. Her throat tightened around a lump of emotion that appeared in the silence of the room. She could feel her nose start to twitch with all the burning of an impending burst of emotion. “Harry,” she croaked.

Immediately he pulled her back so he could look at her and his heart was sick with her distress. “Kitten?” He questioned as he heard the tears before he saw them. “Sweetheart, what s’matter?” He asked nervously. His hands took hold of either side of her face and he looked so distraught looking at her, she felt it in her bones. It made her anxious to worry him, but she could see that he wasn’t really focused about how he felt at all. His concern was entirely on her.

Harry ran through the entire time in his head as quickly as he could. His brain wracking itself to make sure he asked her if everything was okay ever step of the way. He wondered if he hurt her somehow and it was only now presenting itself. His chest was heavy, nervous that he had messed something up for her and made her this sad.

“No,” she whimpered wishing her brain and heart could function properly, long enough to assuage him of his worry. “M’sorry,” she sniffled. “S’just...it felt so good,” she promised. “M’sorry,” she repeated. He felt a tiny bit of relief but was still troubled with anxiety about her sudden emotional outburst.

“Love, please don’t apologize, tell me what’s going on in your head,” he begged holding her face between his hands and brushing the tears away that fell to her cheeks. She couldn’t look at him directly through the tears, but she could see the way his face was twisted in anguish at her discomfort.

“M’sorry,” she said again anyway. “I just... love you so much,” she promised.

He exhaled all the anxiety in his body. She wasn’t hurt or upset—not about what they did. Their connection pulled on her heart too much. Harry didn’t want to think about the last time she felt this loved and adored. Either way it would make him sad, whether she never felt it—in which he hated that man more than he ever did for not cherishing her—or if she did feel it—because he never wanted her to feel it ever again unless it was with him. “Oh,” he said softly and brought her back to his chest so he could comfort her as her overwhelmed tears fell onto his chest. “I love you so much, angel,” he answered. Harry twisted one arm around her waist, and he enclosed his other arm so it wrapped up to rest his hand on the back of her head. He gently tugged and wound his fingers through her hair, then pressed his lips to her forehead at her hairline. He kissed her once and then left his lips there breathing her in and hoping to ease the tears after a few minutes.

“M'sor—”

“Shh, shh,” he hushed. “S’okay,” he whispered. “M’here,” the promise melted her more and the tears continued to fall. It was completely embarrassing.

“I don’t...know why—” she hiccupped.

But Harry did. She hadn’t been loved and adored so passionately before. Or maybe she had, and it had just been a really long time. “S’okay,” he repeated. “M’here.”

She choked out a few more apologies along with her tears and eventually they settled back into silence. He ran his fingers up and down her back. “This is so embarrassing,” she grumbled eventually, sniffling through her words.

“No s’not,” he shook his head. His lips bumping against her forehead still. “M’honored, love,” he said softly.

“Honored?” She said it almost bitterly.

“Uh...” he swallowed thickly. “I... I don’t think... I don’t think that was sex,” he breathed out. “Think that was... something more,” he told her.

Her heart fluttered at his words. Of course he was right. She had never felt so safe in her whole life as she did right then being wrapped up in Harry. “I hope I don’t cry every time this happens then,” she whispered. She managed to get her hands between their bodies to she could rub her eyes of the tears that still clung to her lashes and cheeks.

He smirked and kissed the top of her hair. “You won’t, kitten.”

It was quiet for another minute, Harry listened carefully to the sound of her breathing to make sure she didn't start crying again. “Harry?”

“Yes, m’love?”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

“Oh, kitten,” he hummed. “No need t’thank me. I’d do anything fo’ you.”

There was another pause. She wanted to say something to him that would leave him speechless, like his comment about her beauty and the artists that should try to paint her. In her head, she didn't have the capacity to say something like he did. Instead, she settled on, “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone the way I love you,” she told him.

“M’gonna love you forever, angel,” he answered.

“Do you ever...feel like we were... made to be in love?” Her question was so nervous. Like Harry would say no after having the most incredible and loving sex of his life. Like he hadn’t been dreaming of meeting someone as wonderful as her since he was old enough to care about romance. As if he didn’t think about all the poems that were written about love and not even one poem captured her beauty and they all paled in comparison to her declarations of love.

“Always,” he said simply. “Always, always, always.”