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#harry must be getting worried
stalltherain · 2 months
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I was very worried about Biden dropping out. I expected the typical "Democrats in disarry" headlines for weeks. I did NOT expect Kamala Harris to lock down the party nomination at lightning speed. Nothing in American politics ever moves that fast. Nobody gets the Democrats to agree with each other this swiftly.
And it didn't just happen by magic or luck. Harris must have worked her ass off so that there was never a power void that attention seekers could grasp for. (Except for Manchin's attempt, and she made that look like the joke that he is.)
I'm very impressed. I didn't know Harris could do this. I think we have a great chance of winning in Nov.
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januaryembrs · 1 month
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MY BABY, HERE ON EARTH | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [BONUS]
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Description: the NINE months of pregnancy
Word count: 10.9k
warnings: pregnancy duh, babies, giving birth, c-section, ummm body fluids? lots of emotions, nausea & sickness, talks of weight gain and stretch marks.
authors note: y'all... there you have it. I will be back to finish their story but until then this is my goodbye piece until I have finished my hiatus to write my own book and start uni (again). I can't wait to take these two (three) on the final lap they deserve but for now.. I hope you enjoy pookies being pookies.
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MONTH ONE. The one where she finds out.
She hadn’t meant to find out when she did. It had been just a routine implant swap that she’d had twice already in the last six years. 
“Any blood clotting, any pain at all?” The nurse asked, jotting down a few notes on her form as she sat back on the bed and waiting for the numbing cream to take hold. 
She shook her head. “It’s weird as hell to feel and when I think about it too long it freaks me out, but no, no pain,” She said and the nurse chuckled, nudging her glasses up her nose.
“And finally, is there any chance that you’re pregnant?” She asked, no doubt having rehearsed the same script about thirty times that day alone.
Bugsy gave her a flat smile, “Small chance, but I guess that’s what this is for, huh?” 
The nurse looked at her then, as if mulling over the words before she said something, “Small chance?”
“I mean, nothing is a hundred percent effective,” Bugsy tried to weasel her way out of the awkward conversation, because she had absolutely no intention of letting the nurse know her and Spencer had been at it like bunnies since the Hotch had forced them to take medical leave. Who knew having so much time on her hands with her very handsome boyfriend would have that effect? 
The nurse pursed her lips, and already the woman felt like she’d said too much. 
“Alright, we’re going to do a routine test, just need a quick urine sample,” Bugsy felt her cheeks heat, though she was in no position to argue. Her discomfort must have been more obvious than she thought, however, as the nurse went on to explain, “If I give you this implant and there’s a fertilised egg, it can lead to ectopic pregnancy, in which case you’ll need surgery. Trust me, honey, peeing in a cup is your easy option,” 
She gave the practitioner a small nod, wondering if she needed to message Spencer to say she’d be running a little late. She knew he was likely doing the sudoku in the waiting room magazine, since he’d refused to let her come alone. And even though she’d told him she would be fine on her own, he’d seen through it, had even offered to get her ice cream on the way home for putting on a brave face. 
And yet her face was nothing short of horror struck not even half an hour later when the nurse showed her the stick with empathetic eyes. 
“Congratulations,” The woman said cautiously, a fake smile plastered on her face as the girl stared at her, utterly gobsmacked. 
“But, I thought…” Bugsy stammered, running a finger over where the nurse had removed her implant, “But I had everything ready, I never let it get late, I did what I was supposed to,” 
“You said it yourself, honey, nothing is a hundred percent effective besides abstinence-” 
“That’s just what parents say to make sure their kids aren’t banging every Tom, Dick and Harry out there!” Bugsy was near screeching, the worry in her tone clear as a bell and her chest hot with panic. 
Pregnant. She was pregnant, there was no way she could be…
Except there was exactly a way she could be, seeing as she struggled even on a dry spell to keep her hands off Spencer longer than a few days at a time. And he was just as bad.
The nurse huffed, rifling through her drawers for a handful of pamphlets. She passed them to Bugsy whose mouth was still bobbing with more expletives she held herself back from saying, and it wasn’t until she saw the happy couple on the front of the first one, holding a very swollen and round bump that she thought she might be sick. 
Comical timing, she hissed at herself. 
“There are always options, sweetheart. Abortion is legal in Virginia, if that is what you decide, however there is always information and support that we recommend looking into before you make a solid decision,” Her response was professional even though her expression was compassionate, and Bugsy knew she must have looked scared because that was exactly how she felt and she had little to no room to hide it. 
Abortion? Is that what she wanted? Except it wasn’t just about what she wanted, it was what Spencer wanted too. Even if he would argue against that being the case in a heartbeat, even if he would tell her she had every right to be the only one to make a decision, no matter what he thought. But maybe it wasn’t so much about needing his opinion for that reason, and more it was because she had absolutely no clue what to do and Spencer was always good at making sense of the things she didn’t know how to deal with. 
She nodded silently, her mouth dry as sandpaper as she took the leaflets and stuffed them in the bottom of her purse where she hoped Spencer wouldn’t go looking. 
She barely remembered standing on liquid legs, barely remembered the way her chest felt tight and her head spun as she thought of the fact her body had a baby growing inside it. 
No, it wasn’t a baby. Not yet. It was likely the size of a grain of sand, miniscule. That wasn’t a baby, that was nothing. 
But it would be. Eventually. It would be hers and Spencer’s baby.
And she wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him the second she saw him there in the waiting room, his head shooting up the second the door opened and she left looking a little ill and shaken. 
“All done? Everything go as normal?”  He preened, standing immediately as she neared him, his hand immediately weaving around her shoulder to pull her close by. Gently, ofcourse, because she had a big, fat bandage where her implant should have been. 
“Y-yeah,” She stammered, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in her throat. Yet she knew immediately that he did. Because he leaned in to give her a delicate kiss to her forehead not even a moment later, “C-can we go straight home, I’m not feeling ice cream anymore,” 
He looked worried, as anyone who knew her would because Bugsy turning down free pudding was a blaring red siren in his eyes.
“Yeah, sure,” He said, stroking a gentle hand over the side of her head and leading her where he’d parked the car. 
And it was that worry, the same cloud that hung over him for months with Scratch and his mom and the Dirty Dozen and everything else that was put onto his shoulder that made her shut her mouth right then and there. He didn’t need one other thing to contend with, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world. 
And so she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet at least.
MONTH TWO. The one with the scan.
“Spence, would you stop worrying, I’m sure everything will be fine,” She urged in the gentlest tone she could muster. Yet she was a hypocrite, because she felt her hands shaking as she sat in the chair, trying to adjust her sleeves for something to do and Spencer stopped his leg from bouncing. 
Looking over at her, he sighed, holding out a large palm and weaving her fingers in between his and she flicked a look over at him, her own eyes nervous. 
“I’m sorry,” He gave her a guilty smile, “If it helps, it’s half excitement too,”
And she smiled then, shaking her head as he squeezed her hand gently. 
“Me too,” She confessed, looking down at her stomach that didn’t seem all too different than usual. She’d felt a few symptoms up until this point, a bit of nausea but that was nothing she couldn’t handle, headaches here and there. But it wasn’t anything exactly life changing that she’d expected when she’d always thought of pregnancy. 
If anything, none of it felt real quite just yet. Having only been a few weeks since she’d told Spencer, they’d spent the majority of the time searching for houses and appointments and gynaecologists and neonatal care, and whenever they were free, they were trying to get used to the idea of the two of them as parents.
“Did you know they’re around half an inch long by now,” Spencer said, his hazel eyes falling to where her shirt hid her stomach that had yet to change no matter how many times he stared at it, “About a third of that is made up of their head,”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” She shrugged, stroking her thumb along the edge of his pinky finger, “It’s your kid, they’re going to have biggest brain out there,” 
He snickered, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the back of it softly, “If they have even half your brains, we’re going to be raising the next Galileo,” 
“Mr and Mrs Reid,” Their heads shot up at the midwife, Bugsy fumbling for words to correct him as the two of them stood up to greet him with bashful smiles. She didn’t need to look at Spencer’s face to know he’d gone bright red. 
“It’s uh, Prentiss-Reid,” Spencer spluttered as they entered and the nurse looked again at his chart with wide eyes, his cheeks a little pink himself and he ushered the two of them into his office with a smile. 
“So it is, I do apologise,” He said earnestly, holding a hand out to gesture Bugsy to sit on the reclining bed, “I hate to stereotype, but usually when dad books the appointments, its because their wives are already doing a hundred other things,” 
“It’s okay, it happens,” She said with an awkward chuckle, avoiding Spencer’s eyes because they still hadn’t had that talk. Even though she knew her mother would frown at her grandchild being born a bastard, she didn’t care much for Elizabeth’s opinion. It wasn’t like marriages had ever led to good things for her mother anyway. 
She hopped up onto the examination cot, her heart quivering just the slightest in worry because the smell of bleach and rubber made the whole thing real. Until then, having a grain of rice growing inside her seemed like a fever dream since she’d only had a handful of side effects, throwing up could have easily been passed off as bad chicken, the head aches could have just been her eyes straining from using her computer too much. 
“Okay, everything feels okay, Mom? Nothing concerning at all?” And then the midwife said things like that, mom, and the part of her that almost forgot she was pregnant came to a screeching halt. 
She’d be a mom. Someone would call her mom. The thought of it made her suck in a breath.
“Uh, no.” She cleared her throat and felt Spencer grab her hand, “Morning sickness is kicking my ass, but nothing worrying,”
The nurse chuckled, and she felt Spencer rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm, his eyes burning into the side of her head. 
“Well, if it’s alright, I need you to lift your shirt up a little so we can have a see what’s going on,” He said with a kind smile, and she realised then he’d slipped latex gloves over his hands, and brandished a bottle of gel. 
She nodded absently, doing as he said and lifting her shirt to sit under her breasts, drawing the hem of her skirt down so he had a space to apply. And the second he did she sucked in breath through her nose, the cold of the air conditioning chilling her to her marrow, and she tried telling herself that’s why her hands were shaking. 
She felt Spencer’s fingers curve through her hair, and she reminded herself to breathe, looking over at him with nervous eyes she hoped he didn’t see straight through. But judging by the way he scooted the chair forward and gave her an encouraging smile, she guessed he’d seen the flicker of doubt in an instant. 
“It’s okay, it’s going to be fine,” He murmured, his own fear buried deep somewhere she couldn’t see anymore the second she had been the one to look to him for help. She knew she wanted this, knew she’d always dreamed of Spencer and her having their happily ever after. She knew whenever she’d let herself think of a little boy with chocolate curls and hazel eyes that she wanted all of that and more. 
But it was all so… real. Like seeing a movie come to life, and she was starring centre stage. Her body wasn’t a disposable shell that held thirty plus years of stupid mistakes and regrets and tattoos she’d decided she hated now. Her body had a whole other human inside it. 
The midwife clicked the machine on, the transducer wand ready in his hand as he gently put it on her lower stomach, barely a few centimetres from her panties, and she wondered why they showed the wand roaming over the woman’s belly button on tv shows since that was entirely wrong and not nearly as embarrassing. She let out a shaky breath, and Spencer stroked her head again, forcing her to give him an unsure look, like she was trying to calm herself for his sake but couldn’t.
His eyes were anxious though he squeezed her again with a smile and she saw it immediately, like he too was trying to be brave for her. 
She had never loved him so much. 
“Apologies for the shock, I know the gel can be a little cold,” The nurse said with a grin, and it was only then she realised the screen had lit up with a black and white image, one she’d seen a thousand times when she’d studied neonatal procedures for her degree. 
She knew that was her womb lining, and that was the amniotic fluid and that right there-
Bugsy froze, and judging by the way Spencer’s hand tightened around her own, he had too. She felt her mouth drop with a laugh of shock, and she sat up slightly to take a closer look at the monitor. 
“And there is baby,” The midwife said, his expression warming as he watched Spencer’s stand up to lean over the bed, not once letting go of the woman’s hand, the two of them utterly enraptured in the screen, “Probably about the size of a raspberry,”
And Bugsy laughed, her eyes lined with tears as she looked up at Spencer’s equally wetted hues. He was grinning from ear to ear when he looked down at her, and it wasn’t long before he brought his lips to her forehead, his nose and throat burning with a held cry. 
“Do you hear that? A whole raspberry already?” She said, her voice wobbling and he giggled, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his cheeks with his sleeve. “I am good at this cooking thing, might as well call me an easy bake oven,”
Spencer shook his head with another chuckle, his eyes trailing back to the little blob on the screen that looked more like a toy alien than anything else, and held her hand between both of his like he was in prayer. 
Because Spencer never believed in anything sacred and divine until he met Bugsy.
MONTH THREE. The one where they tell everyone.
“What are you doing?” Bugsy jumped out of her skin as JJ all but materialised behind her. She looked over her shoulder guiltily, her hand still half way through pouring out her mug of coffee Derek had handed her before he left to get lunch. 
She turned to see the blonde with her own steaming mug of decaf in her hands. She’d been taking the lack of caffeine much better this time around since having a second baby to breastfeed, considering she was nothing short of evil when she’d had Henry, which had been Spencer’s words not Bugsy’s. And it wasn’t as if the woman could blame her. She was grouchy when she didn’t get her regular dose even before being pregnancy, Derek had once gotten a kick to the shin when he’d disturbed her on a day she’d been too busy to grab one on her way to the office. 
She was a fiend for the bitter god. And everyone knew it. Which was exactly why JJ’s eyebrows were all but raised into her hairline seeing the girl who would usually be in the stages of withdrawal by now tipping the drink away. 
“Uh, the milk tasted funky,” She excused, though the way JJ narrowed her eyes at the poor excuse told her it hadn’t passed by a mile. 
“Right, the milk that Hotch picked up this morning?” JJ pursed her lips, sliding her own mug onto the side and jutting her hip. 
And as if he were summoned, Hotch sidled up to the kitchenette, Rossi and Tara hot on his heels as they flicked through some paperwork, and his head shot up the minute he heard his name. 
His eyes trailed to where the girl flipped her mug upside on the drying rack, and his brow furrowed. 
“Is everything alright?” He asked, and she huffed in response, wiping her hands on her jeans. 
“Yes, I’m fine,” She grumbled, shaking her head, “I don’t know what you’re all so wound up about, it’s not like I’m dying, I just don’t feel like coffee today-”
“Oh my god,” Penelope gasped where she crept behind Hotch with her very favourite octopus mug in tow, one that was nearly thrown to the floor when she heard the words pour from the girl’s mouth, “Are you sick? Like in the body or in the head? Rossi, check her pulse, I’m going to get a thermometer-”
“Pen, I’m fine,” She said unconvincingly and she tried to skirt past the group that seemed to have her surrounded. Seeing Spencer pulling up the rear in search of lunch she felt herself sigh in relief, because he would think of a much better excuse than she ever could. 
She had barely been able to keep her mouth shut for the months they had been secretly dating, and had relished in the peace it brought her when everyone knew. But the midwife had said it was common to keep things under wraps at least until the first trimester was over. Apparently the million of questions that were sure to be heading their way would cause her unnecessary stress, though she’d argue having to sneak to the sink every morning and dispose of a delicious looking coffee was torture enough. 
“What’s up?” Spencer asked as she ducked towards him, his hand consciously wrapping around her waist, and she huffed again, looking to him with a silent plea.
“They’re profiling me,” Bugsy said, and he felt his gut knot because he should have known it wouldn’t be long before they caught on. It was their job to pick apart out of the ordinary behaviour, and Bugsy going teetotal on caffeine was definitely something of a head turner.
“I told you that diet would cause a stir,” He joked, hoping they bought his pathetic attempt of an excuse, as he gave her side a gentle squeeze, and hoped that he could lead her back to her desk like she was a lost little lamb being prowled upon by nosy wolves that rarely took no for an answer. 
And it almost worked, almost, until JJ snapped her fingers and pointed at his wandering hand. 
“See that, that is the fourth time you’ve been all touchy and weird this week,” The blonde surprised, her brows furrowing, “Bugsy hates PDA, usually by now she would have whacked you over the head and called you a perv,”
Bugsy smashed her lips together because she couldn’t exactly disagree with her. That’s exactly what she usually did. Usually would tell Spencer to stop being so horny in a place of work even if she felt her cheeks heat at the delicate grabs of her stomach fat. 
But whether it was the little bean now around the size of a small lemon that had made her mellow and affectionate, or whether the lack of caffeine really was making her feel vulnerable, she wasn’t sure. And the whole thing was only made worse by Hotch’s eyes burning into the side of her, and she felt the trail of his gaze head straight for her stomach. 
“Come to think of it, I only saw you with a lime and soda at Savannah’s birthday last week,” Rossi pointed out, wagging his finger in her direction, his brown hues widening in thought, “When Penelope asked if you wanted tequila you said-”
“I’m all tequila-ed out,” Penelope chimed in with the same frown, “But that can’t be, when have you ever been tequila-ed out, that’s like impossible, even that night we had to help Spencer get you in the shower because you’d thrown up everywhere you were demanding more,”
She felt her cheeks heat thinking about her twenty ninth birthday, or atleast the parts of it she could remember of it before the rest of the gaps were filled with black spaces of time that she guessed had been robbed from her by the shots she piled on. 
“Maybe I just didn’t feel like tequila, can a girl not live in the moment?” She tried to rebuttal, only Penelope gave her a blank look that told her to try again because the Bugsy she knew would slap her for saying something so dumb. She opened her mouth to correct her again, but Hotch beat her to it. 
“You know Hayley got really affectionate a couple months into being pregnant,” The man said, his eyes swirling with something proud and warm when he saw Bugsy’s head flick to him like she’d been caught red handed, which they had. “Though, if you ask me I think she was just a little sorry for herself that I took the coffee away,”
There was a beat of silence, and the room held its breath. Even Tara, who had only known them the best part of a few months raised her hand to her mouth in shock, and Bugsy shot a look at Spencer in utter defeat. 
“We tried,” She said with her shoulders shrugging, and it was then that the office was filled with a piercing scream that turned a fair few heads and the infamous octopus mug was thrown clear across the kitchen floor, one of his tentacles snapping clean off. 
“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE? YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Penelope wailed like a banshee, and Bugsy couldn’t help but break into a smile, nodding at the woman who screeched again and yanked her in for a tight hug, “Oh my god, there's going to be three of you, three geniuses, three little einsteins that I want to smush together and kiss all over-” 
“Garcia, I think she needs air if she’s going to make another little genius,” Rossi said, and the tech analyst pulled away aghast, cupping Bugsy’s face that was still grinning ear to ear with a chuckle.
“Oh my god, I didn’t hurt you did I? Or the baby- Oh my god there’s a baby in there!” 
Hotch wrapped a rare yet tender arm around Spencer’s shoulder, giving him a little pat and a “Congratulations” while Rossi smiled knowingly between the couple and JJ had her turn smothering Bugsy in a tearful hug. 
And by the time Derek had walked into the office with his everything bagel hanging between his teeth and a tea in his hands, his onyx hues fell to Penelope, JJ and Bugsy exchanging weepy words while Tara handed them tissues with her own sparkling eyes.
“What fresh hell did I miss?”
MONTH FOUR. The one where she starts looking different.
She huffed, her fingers gripping the edge of her jeans and yanking them up her thighs as far as they would go. She felt like everything had shrunk in the wash, or like she was trying on a doll’s wardrobe. Surely she hadn’t gained that much weight in just a few months, but then again she’d been all but living off chocolate pudding cups since the Bean decided it wanted sugar, sugar and more sugar. 
She grunted in annoyance, her arms and back aching where she was leaning over to pull at the infernal things. She barely had a second to pout childishly, before kind hands were wrapping around her stomach and a mouth kissed at her neck tenderly. 
“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” His voice was honey sweet, thick and goopy with love overflowing as he pulled her to his chest, his hand caressed the bump that seemed to be getting in the way of her and her favourite jeans. Spencer knew she tried to ignore the symptoms that almost every woman felt during pregnancy, he knew she compared herself to how JJ had handled both pregnancies gracefully and looked better than ever even as a mother of two. He knew she hated complaining because she didn’t want him to think she was miserable carrying their kid, but god was she getting sick of her clothes pinching her in.
“I’m getting fatter,” Bugsy grumbled, her eyes darting to the vivid lines that had deepened into the crease of her hips within a few weeks and she winced, “I’m not even halfway, how does this kid want to eat pudding all the time?” 
Spencer frowned, shaking his head slightly because he refrained from telling her what a silly statement it was, knowing it would only make her feel worse, and instead pressed delicate kisses to her jaw, squeezing her closer. He’d noticed the stretch marks, just as he’d noticed her face and hips gathering weight a bit more than usual, and was just grateful there was even more Bugsy to love. 
“You’re eating for two, you’re literally growing a whole life inside of you. I think that is more than enough grounds to eat whatever you want,” He murmured, biting the inside of his cheek when she sighed as though she didn’t believe him, “Honey, clothes are replaceable. What your body’s trying to do is create a little bubble around you and this little pudding fiend so you can feed them when they’re out here,” 
Bugsy knew he was right. She’d spent well over a hundred hours researching hormone levels and how pregnant bodies are changing all hours of the day to accommodate the foetus, she knew it was normal for things to look different. Had it been on anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye. But it didn’t make the sting of seeing her body morph into one she didn’t recognise any less harsh.
“I know,” She hummed somewhat defeated, turning in his arms to press her face in his neck, “I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast is all,”
Spencer smiled warmly, because every day he thought she had gotten impossibly prettier. He hadn’t believed in ‘pregnancy glow’, in fact he’d chalked it down to some sort of innate scientific survival tactic that associated a vulnerable woman with looking angelic, at least not until he’d woken up to see her stomach protruding from her pyjama top in a clear curve shape and he thought her face looked like she should be in some Monet painting, dozing in a field like a wide eyed doe. 
“I know, it’s a lot for anyone to go through. But you know I’m so grateful for you,” Spencer said, and he felt her smile without even seeing it. Her fingers wove into his hair at the nape of his neck, kissing a trail up his chest because he suspected she looked somewhat embarrassed. “Besides, I’m not complaining. It means I get to do this,” 
She felt two large hands grab at the fat of her bum cheeks and she squeaked in surprise, even though she heard him laugh in her ear at her reaction. That had been another thing she’d noticed, and how could she not. Penelope said just the other day that she was ‘baking a bun in the oven and cake in the trunk’ with a little wink, and she’d had to excuse herself quickly for lack of a response. 
And Spencer wasn’t lying. He wasn’t complaining with any of it, not by a long shot. 
MONTH FIVE.  The one with the mood swings.
“So you guys really don’t want to know the sex?” JJ asked, sipping on her tea as she chatted with Bugsy who was balancing biscuits on top of her now protruding stomach. It was as if overnight the baby had stretched out enough to make themselves a damn penthouse suite in Bugsy’s tummy. 
“We want it to be a surprise, either way we’re going to love the little bean, even if they do keep kicking my bladder at four am,” She said, balancing the tenth cookie on the tower she’d made, reaching over carefully for another one, “I swear if the bean kicks my cookie tower I’m giving them a hideous name,”
“It’s good to feel the baby kicking at this stage, it helps develop their joints and bones so they’re stronger when they’re born.” Spencer inputted helpfully as he slid a fresh mug of decaf tea over to her desk.
“Next time the baby kicks your uterus walls, Spence, gimme a shout and we’ll discuss how great it is,” Bugsy said with a small smile and he paused, looking at JJ as if he was caught in a trap, suddenly well aware of his mistake. 
“Point taken,” He conceded quietly, and JJ chuckled because she’d seen Will just as hesitant to piss her off in both of her pregnancies. And she knew Bugsy would never hold it against him, that Spencer’s head just ran away from him sometimes. 
She halted her little game and carefully leaned over to draw the mug to her lips, too impatient to wait for it to cool down fully and she barely spotted Derek swooping around the corner of the desk.
“Good morning, Mommies and Daddy Genius,” He greeted in that chirpy tone, his hand snatching up the top cookie and scarfing it down before she could protest. 
Bugsy shared her snacks all the time, it was a no brainer that they took a bite here and there out of each other's goodies before they could get a smack to the wrist. And Derek had certainly noticed a few of his Rolos missing the last time he bought a pack, and a particularly cheerful Bugsy smirking at him over her desk. 
It wasn’t a huge deal, and yet Bugsy sat up in a gasp, and the entire biscuit tower fell to a crumbling mess on the floor. 
“Well done, princess, Hotch is going to-” Derek stopped mid sentence when he saw her sniffle, and his eyes widened at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears, “Bugsy- are you okay-”
“My cookies! Derek!” She whined pitifully, and she buried her face in her hands, “My cookies, I was so going to eat the shit out of those, they were gonna be so good, Derek,” 
Morgan looked gobsmacked, his head whipping between the woman leaning against the desk with an understanding smile and Spencer who was already rubbing her shoulders with his lips smashed together, trying not to laugh. 
“Honey, it’s okay, he didn’t mean to,” Her partner tried to coo, though he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the way Derek scrambled to draw out his wallet. 
“I’ll get you more, Bug, I swear, they sell them by the deli down the street, right?” He asked, jittering in his bones because he’d never made her cry before. He worried or a moment Hotch might just put him on sabbatical leave for such an offense. Emily would probably fly to Virginia just to cave his skull in, “I’m sorry, I’ll go get more, I’ll even get you strawberry milk-”
“Chocolate milk,” She wailed, and JJ slid a box of tissues over to the pitiful girl with a silent snicker. She remembered all too well the feeling of unexplained emotion crashing over her, and she didn’t doubt that the tough faced Bugsy would be back to normal any moment soon.
“Chocolate milk, got it,” Derek said, with a nod, and he all but darted for the elevators, in a hurry Spencer somewhat suspected was down to the fact he feared for his life if Penelope got a whiff of what happened.
Bugsy sniffled for a moment, drawing a tissue out the box and dabbing her eyes sullenly, her feelings slightly worse for wear even if she had a small inkling of doubt that she was really so torn up about the cookies as her body made it seem. 
But she had been thinking about them all morning; made herself promise she would only eat them once she got the stack fifteen high at least. 
“Are you okay, baby?” Spencer asked, his gaze empathetic as she snuffled her sobs into the palm of her hands. He wasn’t too worried, even if he hated seeing her cry just as much as anyone else did. And it wasn’t that he didn’t take her seriously. But when she’d been crying just that morning because her shower gel spilled on the floor and tipped almost all the way out, or even when she’d stepped on a snail walking into the building and smushed it into the ground, effectively killing it, he seemed to be getting used to her mood swings. 
She sniffed woefully, “I was really looking forward to those, and now I think I was too mean to Derek and…” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, and the sight of it made Spencer sigh, leaning forward to kiss the side of her head because it must be difficult being so out of your usual self for nine months. 
“And what?” He prompted softly. Only she burst out crying again, reaching forward to drag him into a hug that told him she was feeling extra sorry for herself.
He wouldn’t blame her. Would sit through every weep and sob and tantrum if it meant he got to show her even more times over that he loved her endlessly. 
However he did have to hold in the giggle when she wailed; “I think I really do want strawberry milk,” 
MONTH SIX. The one with the false labour. 
She had been in Hotch’s office when she felt it. 
Embarrassingly so, her first thought was trapped gas. She’d gotten a lot of that considering the baby had decided it craved spice, and had been planning to excuse herself when it felt like her whole abdomen seized as if she’d been hit with a particularly nasty period cramp. 
Her hand flew to her stomach where she sat with Hotch reviewing her latest reports, the same quarterly check the whole team was mandated to have with their boss since Cruz became section chief. Hotch didn’t miss a beat, the folder in his hand hitting the desk in an instant as he tensed, looking at her with caution. 
“Are you alright?” He asked, and she held her breath for a moment. Spencer was out with Rossi giving a lecture in Washington DC, JJ had the day off for her mom’s birthday, Penelope and Morgan were taking Tara to lunch to show her a few more of their regular spots. It was just them and Anderson in the office for the next few hours, possibly the worst time out of any to have an empty floor. 
“Yeah- I just, woah,” Her stomach gave another lurch of a painful twist and her hand slapped on the table to keep herself steady. She breathed through the pain, because she’d had much worse only that wasn’t what was making her heart race. It was fear. Because she wasn’t due for another twelve weeks at least, and while she’d heard of baby’s being born as premature as six months, she knew premy babies suffered major complications later on, let alone the stress their body goes under during the actual birth. 
Bean, as the team had affectionately named the baby since the couple had firmly decided they didn’t want to know the sex, was about the size of red cabbage, tiny in the scheme of things even though it felt like just a few minutes ago they were a grain of rice. 
“Okay, it’s okay, stay calm,” Hotch said in a smooth voice, gentle yet reassuring as he rounded his desk in a flash and put his hand on her shoulder, “Do you feel like you need to use the toilet? Any back ache or irritability?” 
Bugsy breathed out through her nose as her lungs jittered with nerves, “N-no, I don’t need the bathroom, why would that matter?” 
Aaron stroked a large kind hand down her spine, watching her face scrunch in pain for a second time, and he slowly began directing her towards the door, taking small steps so she wasn’t rushing. “Needing to use the bathroom is an early sign of labour, it’s your body's way of helping expand your pelvis to accommodate the head. Any back ache or frustration at all?” 
He didn’t care that he’d had to repeat himself, not even when he was usually so against it, because he could feel the own unease rising in his throat like bile even if he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. 
He would be damned if he let her see how worried he was, and so he swallowed heavily, holding his other hand out for her to take when they approached the stairs. Anderson was on his feet in seconds when he saw his unit chief leading the woman with a tightly concealed frown, fumbling around for his phone. 
“Agent Prentiss?” He exclaimed, darting around the mess of chairs and paper and desks to approach them, “Would you like me to call Dr Reid? An ambulance, perhaps?” 
“She's alright, I’m driving her to the ER, thank you Anderson,” Aaron responded politely, his hand still resting on her back, and the agent nodded, digging around for his keys. 
“I can drive, if you’d like to ride in the back with her,” Grant offered with worried eyes as Bugsy’s face crumpled in agony again, and Hotch’s head whipped to her, and his composure crumbled for a moment. 
“Bugsy, hey, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, honey,” He cooed, and Anderson was quick to open the glass doors, “Did you pack a bag at all-”
“No, Spencer told me I should but I said it was too early, why is that man always right,” She grumbled, her footsteps weary and jittery as the three of them got into the elevator. 
Hotch fought a smile, trying to remember everything he’d memorised before Hailey had Jack. The 5-1-1 rule blared through his head, and he glanced at his watch for a fraction of a second, and he wondered for a moment if he was going to have to write off a company vehicle for the fact his youngest agent gave birth in the back seat. 
“I’m afraid that’s just how Reid operates,” Hotch said, pulling his phone out to dial the man in question and let him know where they were headed, “It’s probably nothing, Hailey was getting cramps all the time once she reached her third trimester, but we’ll get you checked out to be safe,” 
“Really?” She looked at him with pitiful eyes and he nodded with a tight smile, committing to his illusion of calmness even if he swore he hadn’t felt so scared in months. 
Because it wasn’t just Bugsy anymore, it was Bugsy and her baby. Her and Reid’s baby. The two people who deserved their happy ending more so than anyone else he knew. 
And he felt her hand slip into his then as she accepted his answer, in fact she didn’t let go the entire time she waited on Spencer and Aaron was in no rush to leave her side. Even when she lay back on the table and had the midwife checking everything over, he stayed by her head (no doubt to avoid a very awkward conversation), stroked her hair when she fretted through a few more cramps, even when Spencer burst in through the door with Morgan at his heels looking like the two of them had just ran a marathon.
“Is everything okay- what’s wrong- do you need fluids- do you need ice-” Spencer rushed on his odd breath, his chest puffing with inhales, and he pretended he wasn’t seeing stars floating across his vision. 
“I’m assuming by your reaction you’re dad,” The nurse said, pulling off the blue gloves and dropping her mask from her mouth.
“Yes, he is, he’s dad,” Morgan filled in for him as Spencer all but fell back against the wall, because he really should have drank something other than soda and coffee this morning. He was close to swaying on his feet when he stepped over to his girlfriend, and she took his hand in the her own, or atleast the one that wasn’t occupied by Hotch’s tight hold. 
“Don’t worry, everything is alright with mom and baby,” She said, noting down a few things on her chart and the four of them took an audible sigh of relief, “Braxton Hicks contractions are very common in your final trimester, it probably felt like a lot because your baby is moving to into the anterior position ready for birth,” 
Bugsy’s head flopped back against the pillow in comfort and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, willing her heart rate to go back to normal. Braxton Hicks, she should have known. Her head had been fuzzy the past few weeks as it was, but she supposed the moment she’d thought there might be something wrong with the Bean, all of her logic had flown out the window. 
But at least she’d had Hotch to keep her level headed, and-
“Oh my god, Anderson,” She jolted up, her legs stuck in the stirrups the midwife had place her into while she examined everything, “We need to tell Anderson, the poor guy was so worried,”
Hotch chose not to tell her he’d seen Anderson go as white as a ghost the second she’d turned her back, and instead patted her leg as Spencer went to speak to the midwife a little more, no doubt picking apart every single symptom she’d presented in that huge, worried head of his. 
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Anderson is fine, honey,” He said earnestly, and she looked at him like a kicked puppy, entirely sorry for the panic she’d caused, “Let’s just get you your underwear back, huh?”
MONTH SEVEN. The one where they decorate the nursery.
“What about Elias,” 
“Veto,”
Bugsy pulled a shunned expression as she carefully rolled the wallpaper up the wall. 
“Mason? Niko, stop,” She proposed, one hand on the wall while using the other to push the nosey feline away from the wet paste she’d been brushing on the wall. 
He sat politely at her chide, blinking at her with those big eyes as he watched her work with a twitching tail, almost entertained at the woman who had ballooned up in just a few weeks struggling to do a relatively easy task. 
“Hmm, Mason can go on the bench,” Spencer responded where he was sitting at the other end of the wall doing the same thing only much faster, though she’d argue it was a little easier since he wasn't carrying a large coconut strapped to his stomach.
They’d left the apartment just two weeks ago. Derek had been the one to help them cart their small amount of furniture into the modest house on the outskirts of West Springfield. It was large by Spencer’s standards, even if Bugsy had seen what grandeur looked like in her own childhood homes, but it didn’t matter. Because walls and floors and fancy grand pianos had never bought her love. Yet the first evening they’d spent in their new home they had slept on a mattress on the floor, the list of things to do the following day rattling around their heads. But they had a home. They had the picket fence with the nice school down the road and the bus stop within eyesight of the kitchen where their kid would one day walk to their door with a book bag and glasses like Spencer’s. 
She had never felt like she belonged somewhere until she had a home with him. 
“What about Ada for a girl?” Spencer called over his shoulder, where he had almost caught up to where she was still working on the small patch of wall. The paper was proving frustrating for her swollen fingers, considering the entire thing, when put together, made up a mural of little woodland creatures amidst a forest and left zero room for error, “Named after Ada Lovelace, the woman who pioneered computers,”
Considering it for a moment, she nodded, “That’s pretty. Ada makes top ten,” 
Flipping the last part up to stick against the thick glue, she ran her hands over the seams to be sure it aligned perfectly with the rest of the picture. Satisfied when it matched and a little fox stared down at her, she smiled, tilting her head up where Spencer was standing over her, watching her concentrate. 
“All done!” She chirped, and he bent down to give her a kiss to her puckered lips, sliding a hand beneath her arm to help her up. 
“Looks perfect, you’re really carrying the team honey,” He mused as she got to her feet with a little whine, wrapping her arms around his middle in a proud hug. 
“I know, what would you ever do without me?” 
He laughed, looking at her with an adoring gaze.
The light cracked through the open window, laying over her face delicately. The house was still bare, still in need of carpets and a good dusting, still had leaky pipes and ants in the pantry. Yes, they had a pantry now. But it was a start. It was a home. 
“I say we leave the cradle for another day, baby is calling for frozen grapes again,” She said, rubbing a hand over her protruding belly button and he smiled. Spencer could have sworn he was the luckiest guy in the world when he called her his friend. He thought maybe he should have bought a lottery ticket the same day she told him she loved him. The day she became his girlfriend he thinks he may have died and the past three years have been purely a dream. 
But watching the breeze kiss her cheeks and stroke her hair, watching her eyes rove over the room that would keep their baby safe and warm in just a few weeks, even seeing her smile at him like he had handed her the whole universe in a box when she was the one growing a whole human inside her; Spencer felt like his life was so much better than he ever hoped it would be. 
“Frozen grapes, coming right up,” He said, slipping his fingers in between his to help her down the winding staircase which had been a winner for her immediately. It’s like we have a castle, Spence. “You or the baby could ask for a whole damn ox and I’d give it to you.”
She laughed, holding onto the bannister as they headed downstairs to the kitchen that was in dire need of fresh paint. 
“What if I said baby wants a holiday to Cancun and another cat,” 
“I’d say baby is onto something there,” Spencer said, sweeping her from the final step and giving her a wet kiss to her head, “But first, grapes.”
MONTH EIGHT. The one where she gets cranky.
“Oh my god,” She groaned as she threw herself into her wheely chair, her button up shirt barely accommodating her stomach that was well and truly ready to pop.  
Derek Morgan loved her, he truly loved her like she was one of his sisters, dare say he had loved her since that day he’d carried her out of the church she was held hostage in by Cyrus. He had seen her at her rock bottom, had seen her graduate with flying colours, had even put his job on the line for her; covered her back from a stupid mistake at a bar when she popped a little molly on government pay. 
Derek loved her. He did. But the moment he saw her slump into her chair, her face scrunched up in frustration, he was collecting his mug of coffee and all but bolting for the door and heading straight for Penelope’s lair. 
“Back pain again?” JJ asked, flitting past a very frantic Morgan and heading towards Rossi’s office with a stack of papers in her arms. Bugsy let out something close to a growl in return, and JJ took it as a yes.
“I swear I have been pregnant for years,” She huffed, barely reaching over to where her keyboard sat at her desk. Tara nudged it forward for her to grab, because it seemed like she was on her breaking point enough as it was, and received a brief nod of thanks “I can’t remember a time when my back didn’t hurt, or my boobs were aching or my head wasn’t all fuzzy and weird and- OH for the love of god SWITCH ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT,” 
JJ’s brows raised as the keyboard mouse went flying off the side of her desk in protest, rolling straight past where Hotch and Spencer were strolling through the office, her boyfriend carrying the biggest Strawberry Milkshake he could find on this side of town. 
If Hotch wanted to say anything about her damaging property, he thought it smarter to keep his mouth shut as she swivelled to face the two of them, her expression already irritated by the worried stare they shot her way. 
“What?” She said with a bite, and Spencer raised his hands in surrender, which left her gaze to slide to Hotch. 
And Hotch loved her too, loved her more than he would ever admit. But he swore he the second her eyes clamped on his, Aaron Hotchner considered an exorcism might be necessary. 
“What, what are you staring at me for?” She snapped, throwing her hands out like a bratty teenager, and Hotch cleared his throat before he spoke, something embarrassingly close to fear shaking his vocal chords.
“Have you given any more thought to maternity leave, yet?” He asked and her eye twitched, and it was as if he saw the stapler was next on her list of things to send flying off the table, preferably straight at his head. “I would be more than happy to pull some strings so you take longer off after the baby is born, maybe even Spencer could start his paternity early-”
“What?” She said for a third time, like she was a broken record. And she knew she was being unfair, perhaps even cruelly so. But she would make it up to them later, when she was in a better frame of mind. Her underwear rode up and pinched where her uterus had begun to drop, her trousers itched for whatever reason, her face was hot from just walking from the elevator to her chair and that was just since she’d entered the office. She hadn’t got much energy for showers anymore and so washing her hair became some ugly affair where Spencer got in with her and did it for her, only last time he put a little too much product on and got the suds in her eyes and they had spent twenty minutes rinsing her face, naked and dripping wet, over the sink. She felt awful, awful for how she was being so irrationally rude, but it was like every inch of her being was uncomfortable. And there was still another month to go.
“Good god, man, don’t poke the bear,” Tara hummed as she passed, taking her own half full mug to the kitchen to escape whatever was rumbling in that hot head of hers. 
Hotch swallowed heavily, noticing how Spencer stayed deadly quiet no doubt because he’d learned his lesson in trying to force Bugsy into doing something when she was like this, “I’m saying I think it would be good for you to take some time off, you’ve both worked hard enough as it is and with the baby being so close, it would be good to take it easy for a few weeks-” 
She pressed her lips together, because she knew he was probably trying to help, probably trying to be considerate, and yet the heat of annoyance bubbled up inside her all the same like a kettle on the precipice of boiling.
“If you want the big scary pregnant lady out of your way just spit it out, Hotch,” She snapped, scowling at him in a way he remembered Hailey doing when he so much as sneezed too loud.
And he couldn’t find it in him to be mad at her. Because anyone with eyes saw she was uncomfortable, he knew if she was anything like his own ex-wife then she wouldn’t be sleeping nearly as much as she should, that more than likely their kid would be already kicking with long, scrawny legs to get out and show the world what they were made of. 
Hotch was saved from the firing line when his guess was proved almost immediately, and she groaned with a hand to her abdomen. 
“Spencer, would you tell your kid they’re not a linebacker and that my kidneys aren’t the damn ball,” She complained, and her partner flashed her a brave smile, leaning over her to rub where she was caressing her battered organs. 
“Actually, right about here will be your spleen since the baby has pushed everything around at this stage-” And with that Hotch darted towards his office because Bugsy looked ready to clip someone around the ear, and he didn’t have the heart to write her up for it.
Although for the sanctity of his team, he rushed her documents through the same afternoon and gave her an extra four weeks pay in lieu of a truce. 
MONTH NINE. The one with the birth.
It had been fourteen hours already when the doctor mentioned the word caesarean. 
“Caesarean? We never planned for a C-section,” Bugsy’s eyes widened where she was intermittently sucking down gas and air, Spencer patting her forehead down with an ice wet cloth. 
But then again she supposed she had never planned to go into labour when getting the laundry off the washing line while Spence painted the porch. 
He looked at her with nervous hazel hues where her face sparkled with sweat and water, her hand squeezing him tightly as another contraction hit. 
“I’m afraid we have few options left, Miss Prentiss,” The midwife said, a woman around her age that was already masked up after prodding around her cervix for a few hours, “Fourteen hours is rough on anyone and we’re not seeing any movement past your pelvis. Any longer and you or your baby might be at risk,”
And it was the truth, but it was a harsh one, and tears sprung to her eyes hearing those last few words. She had never had any delusions it would be easy giving birth, it was revered as the most painful thing anyone could go through, but she had assumed on a hope and a prayer that things would go smoothly. 
“I know it’s scary,” Spencer found his voice after a second, their hands clasped tightly together because there was more chance of snow in hell than there was he was letting her do this alone, “But, baby, you’re doing so well, and you’re almost there,” He said in a watery sweet tone, dabbing at her brow once more and the two of them exchanged a teary look, “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay, they’re going to numb you for the whole thing and when it’s over we’re going to have our baby, huh?” 
She smiled ruefully because he was trying desperately to cheer her up, even though it sounded like he was reassuring himself just as much as he was her.
And she nodded, because she knew he was right, and more than anything she wanted their baby to be safe, even if it meant having her insides scooped out like she was some russian nesting doll. 
“O-okay, yeah, c-can Spencer stay with me?” She asked nervously, and the midwife smiled, pressing a button to call for the anesthesiologist.
“Ofcourse, honey. Just try to relax, we’re going to arrange an epidural for you,” She said in a voice that told Bugsy she’d practised staying calm in an emergency a thousand times. 
Bugsy breathed through her nose, feeling Spencer swoop in to wipe the lone few tears dribbling down her cheeks. 
“It’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna be okay,” He said, his voice bustling with nerves and she wanted to tell him the same, wanted to tell him she loved him more than ever for trying to put a brave face on for her sake. But she couldn’t, so she nodded frantically, leaning her forehead against his cheek and taking a few more deep breaths. 
“You’re doing great, honey, you’re being so brave,” Spencer reassured in his biggest voice, his hand carding over the side of her hot face gently. There was blood, there was so much blood, and the sound of her monitor was the only sound that was constant and not at all worrying with its steady heart beat. 
The midwives were flitting around the room, the lead obstetrician making careful incisions and handing various things Spencer didn’t want to see over to his co-workers. Because he loved their baby already, couldn’t wait to meet the mini him he’d been dreaming about since he was a boy himself, but Bugsy needed him first. She was his everything, his whole life, his whole universe fading between clear consciousness and a slightly loopy gaze as she relaxed on the table. 
“Is it over? Are they here, are they okay?” She slurred, looking over at him where his hair was covered in a blue scrub cap, his entire body wrapped in protective uniform to minimise the risk of infection on her body. 
He cradled her face again, shaking his head, “Not yet honey, you’re doing so good, it’s nearly over,” Spencer said, pressing his brow against hers because he had a mask over his mouth and couldn’t kiss her properly, “I love you so much, I swear I’ll try every day of my life to repay you,” 
“You’re being mushy, you’re freaking me out,” She joked as if she was her regular self, because the midwives had all warned him that the sedatives would take the edge off her nerves. And he chuckled, even if he was worrying enough for the two of them, sniffling behind the stuffy mask he had to keep on until she was in recovery. 
“I’m sorry, baby, I just want you to be okay,” Spencer said earnestly, and he pressed a kiss to her head anyway even if she wouldn’t feel it with his mask, “I’m gonna get you so many milkshakes when this is-”
There was a wail behind the curtain they had draped over her stomach, and both their breaths stopped in their chests. 
“Is that…” Bugsy started, her eyes wide and alert even if seconds ago she had been almost drunk, “Is that it- is that them?”
And another scream resounded around the room as if to answer her. 
Spencer swore he had never felt tears well in his eyes so fast until one of the midwives brought a wriggling, wrinkly bundle around the curtain, and within seconds he felt his cheeks sodden with tears. 
“Oh my god,” He said his smile reaching his eyes as the little creature was put on Bugsy’s chest, and it was only then he realised she was weeping too and he resumed his position stroking her head, “It’s a-”
“It’s a girl! Spencer, we have a girl!” Bugsy’s grin went from ear to ear, her eyes round and adoring at the ugly, scrunched face still screaming at them, her eyes closed and her skin covered in a white goop, “Oh my god, she’s so beautiful,” 
“I told you she’d take after you,” Spencer said, not minding the nurses sewing Bugsy up as they stared at their little girl, Bugsy’s arms holding her body weight delicately though she didn’t quite know what she was doing. 
Spencer was quick to remove the mask once they cleared him to, and the second he was freed he pushed his lips to his girlfriend’s, their mouths equally as salty and sodden as one another with the way their cheeks washed with tears. Pulling away, he looked at her in the eyes, the same eyes he’d always loved, the same eyes he’d know in any life, in any world, in any fog, and their smiles were damn near blinding. 
“I love you so much, I swear I’m going to make it up to you, anything you want,” Spencer said, kissing her again, his hand resting over hers where she held their baby girl on her bare chest. 
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she already had everything she’d ever wanted right there with her. 
“I love you so much more, Spencer,” She said quietly, the two of them pulling away when the little girl squealed again and they chuckled, quickly rushing to calm her cries as they looked at her as if they had yet to realise she was real and she was theirs, “Oh my god Spencer, you’re a daddy,”
“Bugsy, you’re a mommy,” He said with raised brows and she gasped, giggling with glee as her free hand flew to grab his face and pull him in to kiss her again, “We’re a mommy and daddy,” 
The two of them burst out laughing even though overjoyed tears lined their eyes again, and Spencer trailed a large finger down her chubby cheek softly, her skin shrivelled and pruney like she’d been submerged in a bath for too long. 
“Spencer, she’s perfect,” She said after a moment, her breath completely stolen when she took her in, the small head completely covered in dark hair, which she had already suspected would be there from the amount of times she found herself itching at her stomach. Her tiny fists waved in the air as her sobs subsided, beginning to warm up to the skin on Bugsy’s chest, and Spencer audibly choked in a cry of his own when her eyelids slowly blinked open and revealed forest hues damn near identical to his own. He pushed his temple to Bugsy’s again as she carefully swayed her from side to side.
“I’m never going to let anything hurt you,” He murmured, his breath warm on her collarbone and his baby girl stared back at him like she understood, even though he knew that was pretty much  impossible, “Either of you,” 
Bugsy sniffled with a wobbly smile, her hands shaking as she held her daughter up, “Do you want to hold her?” 
Spencer looked ready to wail all over again, not that she would ever hold it against him. The two of them had been weeping all day, and their kid was a real tear jerker to look at with her thick lashes and wide eyes. 
He was quick to pop open his shirt, holding his hands out nervously as she placed the baby in his arms, his fingers supporting under her head the whole time he brought her to his chest. 
Bugsy smiled, the midwife checking in with her for a moment before they were ready to wheel her into the other room to rest up, while Spencer looked entirely enamoured with the little bundle in his arms. 
He was a dad. He had made this beautiful, perfect little girl with the woman he loved more than anything in the world, and somehow she had given him even more reasons to feel so lucky. 
“Hello, you,” He said through bleary eyes, smiling through a chuckle when he saw just how tiny she looked in his arms, and he had never seen anything look so fragile, “I’m going to try be the best dad you could ever have, okay? I’m gonna be there for all the lame parties, and the sleepovers and the big games and every single time you need help on your homework, I’m gonna be right there with you.” 
“What name are we putting on the chart?” The midwife asked as Bugsy watched Spencer murmur to the sweet face that looked up at him in wonder, “Or is it just Baby Girl Prentiss for the moment?” 
“It’s Reid,” Bugsy said with a smile, as Spencer poured even more of his gentle heart out in promises she knew he would keep until the day he died. And she knew without checking with him the name they chose weeks ago was perfect; the one they’d decided on just a few days after the nursery was finished and she had yet another bowl of frozen grapes to chow down on while they admired their work. 
One for his mother, one for Emily. 
“Ana Emilia Reid,”
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gurugirl · 7 months
Text
Next Door Neighbors | Part 2
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neighbor!harry x reader
Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.
A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!
Word Count: 5k+
Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff
. . .
Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.
Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.
He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.
But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.
You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.
“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.
“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.
“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.
“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.
Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”
You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.
“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”
“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”
And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.
Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.
Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.
You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.
“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.
“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”
“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”
You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”
Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”
You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”
Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.
“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.
Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”
He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.
Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.
There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”
Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”
You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”
Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”
His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”
His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”
He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”
Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.
“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”
You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.
Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.
“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.
You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”
Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.
“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.
And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?
“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.
“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.
You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”
Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”
You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”
You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”
Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.
You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.
He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.
You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.
“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”
You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.
“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”
Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”
You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”
His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”
Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”
The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”
Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.
He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.
And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.
You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.
Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.
Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”
You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.
He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.
His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.
You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.
You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.
He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”
You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?
He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?
You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.
You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.
A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.
Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.
He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.
A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.
“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.
Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.
His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.
Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.
He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.
You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.
You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.
“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”
You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”
He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”
You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.
“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”
Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”
He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”
You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.
You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.
He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.
You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.
“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”
Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.
“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”
You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.
You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.
You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.
“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.
“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.
You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.
When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”
He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”
You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”
He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”
You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”
Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.
“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.
“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”
Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”
You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”
“Definitely, yeah.”
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luvvyouforever · 9 months
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headcanons : harry potter boys x keeper!reader
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↳ harry, ron, draco, neville, fred, george, remus, and sirius with a partner who can wield ancient magic (hogwarts legacy style).
↳ requests are open! submit ideas, drabbles, headcanons, or one shots to the link in my bio! don’t be shy <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
harry potter:
-thinks it is the coolest shit ever! when you're in a fight together and you protect him by shooting a powerful blue bolt towards the enemy that disintegrates their very beginning, he feels so proud to be your partner!
-on the other side, he also knows it feels like to have a lot of pressure and power on your side. he worries about what it must feel like to wield ancient magic and be the only living person who can see it. every time you use it, he checks on you after, ensuring that you don't feel too exhausted and can continue fighting.
-supported you so much through the trials. he didn't need to know every detail of what you did and went through but he would hold you so tight when you came back, praising you over and over for being so strong and brave.
ron weasley:
-he's a little jealous, ngl. like his partner can use this sick magic and is responsible for keeping the magic safe and alive out of the wrong hands?? why can't he do that???
-i also feel like ron would be confused, if not a little angry, that you refuse to share the power and attempt what others have before (such as isidora using the magic to remove pain). he doesn't really understand the problem and feels like the keepers are suspicious.
-he'd brag about you alllllll the time though! like oh my god every second he would find some way to bring up the fact that you can do really awesome things and that you are his awesome partner forever!
draco malfoy:
-draco loves you a lot and finds your magic incredibly cool, don't get me wrong, but i think his family swayed his pursuit of you because wouldn't it be so grand if the malfoys had a keeper in their family? someone so powerful and knowledgeable? who would pass down the truth and their magic? yes please! (every time narcissa brings it up, it irks draco but also he pats himself on the shoulder for choosing you)
-wants to know every detail about the trials and the past and the memories you're viewing! you'll come back from a trial, sweaty and tired, maybe bleeding, and he'd help you first then ask hundreds of questions after.
-your use of ancient magic is not necessarily unknown and makes you quite popular among the students of hogwarts. this, however, makes draco really jealous. if he could, he would follow you everywhere, glaring down anyone who tries to make a move on you. before you go on adventures, classes, or just to the common room, he'll drape you in his slytherin scarf as if he was marking you.
neville longbottom:
-poor thing gets so nervous when you have to complete the trials or do something incredibly important for the sake of keeping the magic safe. he knows he can't go along with you but he'd stay by your side until the very moment you enter the map chamber, whispering praises and support the whole time.
-would heal up all your wounds and take care of you if you exerted too much during a fight. he knows how much everyone depends on you and the least he can do is take care of you properly! he would run you a bath, apply soothing balms to your skin or use his plants to heal you up, and cuddle you tightly!
-tries his hardest to not feel useless but sometimes it's hard when you're so strong and he's so...not. of course you'll always reassure him and give him the confidence he needs but very frequently, he gets really down on himself about it.
fred weasley:
-every day he comes to you with a new scheme that involves your magic. could you make a portal that leads from the dungeons of hogwarts to the top of the astronomy tower? it's important. snape is gonna get really mad when he goes into his office? can your magic fix that?
-begs, and i mean BEGS, you to let him come along on your adventures and battles. he wants nothing more than to support you and fight along your side! as long it's not a trial, you can't help but let him come along. you usually end up saving him after he pays a little more attention to the way your whip around the battle, taking down everyone effortlessly.
-speaking of paying too much attention to you, he thinks it is so attractive than you can do what you do! he gives you some time after fighting to recuperate but then immediately he is ON you. he's kissing you and telling you how hot it is when you turn someone to just particles.
george weasley:
-he wants you to teach him everything you can. there are some things that are just simply innate and can not be taught but all your tips and tricks when it comes to fighting will now be all of his tips and tricks. you two would just find some field away from the burrow and go at it, sending spell after spell at each other. georgie is just overflowing with adrenaline and it's a great way to get it out.
-deep down, a part of him wants to be protective of you. he wants to keep you from going out into danger and taking on dangerous tasks all for magic and some old people telling you what to do. but he knows better, trust me. he knows you can defend yourself just fine but he just wants to put you in a little bubble and never let anything hurt you.
-just like ron, he will brag about you whenever he can. everyone is sitting around the great hall table, talking about how it's so cool that you defeated a troll in one fell swoop and he just wraps his arm around your shoulders, a glimmer in his eye as he proceeds to say "yeah, aren't they just so amazing?"
remus lupin:
-fears for your health and safety so much! when you come back from a trial, he's hushing you and putting you in bed, feeding you chocolate and brewing tea until you feel better!! you are bearing the weight of centuries old magic all alone. the least he can do is take care of you!
-supports your decisions throughout your entire journey as a keeper. if you truly believe that releasing ancient magic to the world and using it for more than the original keepers intended, then he understands. if you want to continue to keep it hidden, he will not question your judgement.
-this is so fluffy but i feel like you figured out how to manipulate your ancient magic to floating, bright blue scenes and pictures. around remus's time of the month (said lovingly), you'll lay in bed with him and use your wand to paint pictures of animals, lakes, waves, stars, or, in more sappy moments, your future.
sirius black:
-he thinks it is SO hot that you can take someone down without barely blinking an eye. his favorite move you do is when you lift someone into the air and slam them down repeatedly. gets blushy and turned on excited every time.
-once followed you down into the map chamber only to be very harshly yelled at by one of the keeper's portraits. he just wanted to see what it looked like and to know where you go on dangerous missions!! who can blame him, truly? definitely grumbled the whole rest of the day.
-when you two get married, he refuses to let you take his last name and instead will either take yours or say screw it and come up with one! he doesn't want his family to have the gratification of having a keeper with the black family name. he wants you to shine for who you are and in another century, he wants your name to be yours, not his.
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14thgalerie · 1 year
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dreamin' of him
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• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: a little death by the neighbourhood / fuck it i love you by lana del rey
• word count: 5.7k
• genre: fluff
— a part of this is inspired by this scenario i saw on tiktok, can't exactly remember it which vid it was. anyways enjoy this little random scenario that i'm pretty sure is horrible because i didn't bother to proofread it again.
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You shot right up from your sleep, limbs tangled in the sheets that had been strewn about haphazardly. The room is still as dark as it had been when you fell asleep with only the faint light of the full moon serving as your guiding light.
You drop your head onto your hands that sit on your folded knees, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes until you can only see white. Ignoring the pain only so that you can be rid of the images that keep flashing in your mind.
It was excruciating, it played like a broken VHS record on your parents’ television back home. Every millisecond, a frame of you in such a vulnerable embrace with–
No. Y/N, stop it.
You were grappling with your sanity, feeling yourself incredulous at how such an idea came to fruition in your mind. Several nights’ on the end of this senseless, out-of-the-world dream that popped out of nowhere. The both of you hardly spoke with one another, for Merlin’s sake.
Throwing your head back, giving up on forcing the images out of your thoughts. Your head was spinning. Slamming your temple against the solid, wooden headboard behind you until you hear a ring resonating through your ears.
How did you let yourself get into this? What happened that you are being haunted— if that’s what you would even call it — by these dreams?
It’s been days of sleepless nights and you are plain tired. He must have cursed you. There was no other reason for this, right? He could be annoying when he wanted to be.
With your back resting on the headboard, you see that your dorm mates haven’t gotten back yet. Still, you remain seated as you wonder where they are, staring at the open window to your right.
“You’re the only one that can do this to me, Y/N…”
You gasp and sit straight, slapping your forehead with your open palm, trying to chase the image away. Throwing a glance at your watch that sits on the bedside table, you see that it’s only an hour and a half before you are supposed to wake up.
Exhaling loudly, you shove the blankets away from your body, feeling a warmth creep up on you. Maybe a good, cold, and long shower will distract you for good.
Grabbing a change of clothes, you head straight for the bathroom in your dorm. Now’s one of the few times you are glad that the dorms at Hogwarts have their own showers. 
Looking at the small, worn mirror above the sink, you chuckle humorlessly at how disheveled your appearance is. Anyone who sees you right now might think that your dreams are last night’s reality.
Stepping under the painful cold water, your body unconsciously jolts at the shock. 
Thinking about it makes your heart race. It gives you jitters, too. The feeling wasn't much to your liking. It was distracting. Not to mention it made you feel so... vulnerable. A shiver ran up your spine. You paused for a breath to calm your heightened nerves.
This has to end soon. You couldn’t stand another night spent thinking of him, of all people.  
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“I uh- I need to go.” You cough, clearing your throat, hands shaking slightly as you move to stand up. “I still have this essay for Potions.” 
“What- Hey wait, Y/N!” Harry reaches out, nearly missing your arms. 
“Why are you suddenly running off? It’s not due until next week?” Giving you a worried look. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Harry. I feel extraordinarily perfect, I just- I wanna go back to my room right now.” You sigh, looking up at him. Your body remains tense under his tight grip. “So please let me go.”
Harry tries to not look disappointed, giving a quick glance back at your two other friends who watch you in silence. “Alright then, but if you need anything, you know where to find us.”
Giving him a small nod before pivoting in your heel, you walked straight to the Great Hall's large entryway. You ignored the way your skin burned with the intensity of the searing eyes that had locked onto you since its entry. 
“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” A cool voice asks from behind you. 
You freeze.
“Pardon?” You conjure up a reply, bluntly.
“Ok- what’s got your knickers in a twist?” 
“Nothing!” You reply defensively. Wanting nothing more than to be back within the confines of your dorm room.
“Alright, alright. I got it.” The cool, calm voice waves off an erratic rhythm to your heart. You continue to stare forward along the corridor, paying no mind as he circles around until there is a face attached to the voice. “I was just wondering why you skittered out of the Hall faster than when you were caught by Filch with the Weasley twins.”
Tilting your chin towards your chest, “What do you want, Nott?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I was just curious, that is all.”
You scoff at the mockery clear in his tone. “Seriously, what is it? Because if you’re only here to be an annoying twat, I have better places to be.” 
You purposely bump into his shoulder as you make your way past him. Not in the mood to play along with him right now. Not when that stupid smirk of his is reeling images that you have been tirelessly trying to be rid of. Images that are the cause of your cranky attitude in the mornings.
From the corner of your eyes, you see him cock his head slightly to the right. Another thing you hate. He becomes more incessantly annoying when you are visibly annoyed by him.
“Nott.” You warn.
“What?“ He asks, amusement clear in his tone. “Am I not allowed to walk the same grounds that you do now?”
“Walk elsewhere. I am quite sure that you know of other paths from here to wherever you are to go. With your many endeavors, it’ll be stupid if you didn’t.” You murmur the latter under your breath.
“What was that?” He catches up to you, walking leisurely with his long legs. “Didn’t quite hear that last part properly.”
Before you could reply, a shout from the courtyard called both of your attention. A redhead girl from Ravenclaw was waving in your direction. You turn to look at Theodore who has now turned his sight back to you.
“I think she’s waiting for you.” You swiftly walk towards your house tower, making haste before he follows you again.
Unbeknownst to you, his stare remains fixated on you until your figure disappears around the corner. Only then does he wave back at the girl and make a quick return to the Hall where he left his friends mid-conversation. 
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 It wasn’t the last that you see of Theodore after, nor was it the last morning when you woke up groggy and irritated at the lack of sleep. It seems that since then, the both of you find yourselves orbiting each other much more often than before.
Not that you found it all disappointing. 
There were times that he was a good companion to have around— forget the hooded eyes that left you conscious every time. When he isn’t being an annoying twat, he knew how to hold a conversation with you; your lack of similarities is a good point as you were able to share things that the other didn’t know of.
But in truth, Theodore searched for you. In the boisterous chatters of students in the corridors, between the towering bookshelves of the library, through the window of the dimly lit Potions classroom where he has a clear view of Hagrid’s hut where you and your friends frequent.
He looks for you in all places, unable to help himself from an attempt to have a glimpse of you.
He did give his best efforts to tuck away his inexplainable attraction to you recently, and he wouldn’t dare admit that there is even a chance that he does. His denial was a fortress but cracks appeared within its walls with each time he talks to you.
“She’s at the Hospital Wing.” Blaise hesitatingly brings up. 
He almost jerks up from his comfortable position on the couch where he and Blaise are observers of their other friend’s drunken endeavors. But he manages to grab a hold of himself before the other notices.
“Why bother telling me?” His forced indifference is not as apathetic as he wished it to be. “I don’t care.”
“Oh shut up, Theo. I have never seen you so utterly fond of another girl like you do with her.” Blaise retracts back to what he was gonna say, “Anyways, I hear she will be a volunteer ahead of the Quidditch match this Sunday.”
He doesn’t reply, letting the words of his friend slip from one ear to another. You were interesting. He was unsure how, in the many years you’ve known one another, that you caught his eye now.
“She’s nice, not unlike some of her friends at Gryffindor.” Blaise continues with his taunting, eager to see a reaction from Theo. “Even managed to convince me to be her partner for Herbology.”
Theo makes a noise in a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “From the sound of how you speak of her, it’s like you’re the one that has caught butterflies.”
Blaise simply hums, nodding to himself. “Maybe.”
Not another word slips from him again. The silence of his relinquishment makes Theo’s heart skip a nervous beat. Blaise never gives up that easily.  
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“Hello there.” A voice makes you look up from your book which you have been drowned in since hours ago. To your surprise, it was Blaise. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask. Curious why he had so suddenly appeared beside you while you were studying. You scour your brain, trying to remember if you had a project with him that ultimately passed by you.
“Go to Hogsmeade with me later.” Blaise blurts out while you gather your books that are scattered along the table. 
“Huh?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You give out a confused laugh. Maybe you didn’t understand him, right? “Did I hear you right? Hogsmeade? The two of us?”
“Well, don’t make it sound like it’s such an atrocious thing.” He makes a sound of mock offense; even making the choice to put a hand above his chest. To which you vehemently shake your head.
“Gosh no! It’s just-“ You trail off. “Why all of a sudden?”
“Nothing at all…” He shrugs, but that look on his face tells you entirely different. The mischievous expression that is ever so slightly slipping through. “Just wanted to hang out with a good friend of mine.”
You look at him with a confused frown, unsure of what he’s doing. “Since when were we good friends? Last I checked we only talked every now and then and it was really only just for projects.”
“Just come with me, will you?” 
“No.” You shake your head to further make your point. “Tell me why first and maybe I’ll consider.”
Blaise sighs, giving up. He had expected that you would not be giving in so easily to his request, after all, you weren’t really that close. But he still thought that it was worth the try, he is tired of Theo acting like he’s better than his emotions. He decides to tell you.
Well… somewhat.
“Alright, lady. I want to make a friend of mine jealous.” You hummed, listening intently. Wondering why he chose you to do it. “Also, because you’re the only person that I genuinely enjoy hanging with from other houses.”
“Will you tell me who’s the friend?” You ask.
“No.” He quickly replies, “But Y/N…I’ll treat you with anything you want at the Three Broomsticks or wherever else. Just please.” He draws out the please, adding hints or really a dump load of sweetness to it to charm you.
You think for a second more before finally giving him a nod. “Ok, but you’ll have to come with me to Honeydukes. Payback for doing whatever it is you’re planning.”
“You can have whatever you want. I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady.” Blaise tells you before walking off with a huge grin on his face. 
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“Y/N?”
And when you turned your head, a surprised Blaize looked at you with a smile, apparently he had just been in mid-conversation with a fellow Slytherin as he hung about the entrance.
He whistled as he wasted no time approaching you, waving a curt goodbye to his previous companion. 
“Remind me why you never wear clothes other than your uniform?” He asks, his eyes unabashedly trailing over you. Though not in a predatory way that leaves you uncomfortable.
“Because it’s a hassle having to think of an outfit when I could just put a uniform on and call it a day.”
He hums, nodding as he thought about it.
“Well you look good in your non-school clothes, you should wear them more often.” He suggests, although he quickly amends it. “Not that I’m saying you don’t look great normally, it’s just nice to see how you would personally choose the clothes you wear. It kind of reflects a lot of your personality more.”
The two of you make no rush as you travel to Hogsmeade along with the other students, chuckling at the eager third-years who are freely roaming around. Engaging in small talk all the way. 
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“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” You rolled your eyes at Theo, who has done nothing but glare at Blaise who sits beside you with such harsh blinding venom. “If all you plan to do here is to murder Blaise in a million ways inside your mind, then please do it some other time.”
The man beside you couldn’t help the amused choke that escapes him as he sips his glass of Butterbeer.
Theo finally breaks his lone stare down and shifts his attention to you. “Since when did you two hang about by yourselves?”
“We always have-“ Blaise starts to explain but he is cut off by a kick to his shin that makes his knee jerk up and hit the table. 
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
His eyes remained fixated on you still, a medley of emotions behind them that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. 
“Well, Y/N? I’m waiting for you here.” He impatiently asks. “Are you two on a date?”
“Theo, if you think that we are, then why did you even come here?” You roll your eyes at whatever antics that the both of them are trying. Not realising that you called him by his nickname, usually reserved for his close friends.
“Well-“ He stammered, unable to explain why exactly did he approach you all of a sudden. “Blaise doesn’t have that good of a reputation with girls and I wanted to make sure he’s not trying anything with you.”
Blaise clears his throat in an attempt to remind his friend that he is still sitting at the table, clearly within earshot of whatever slander he’s being put to.
“I can hardly think of a reason why you would if he does, but we were just having a conversation as friends, Theo.” You finally answer. “Is it that much of a surprise that I tolerate one of you?”
“He wants it to be him.” The man beside you mutters under his breath which you ignore, thinking it is only a jab.
Theo once again kicks Blaise under the table, making the latter swear under his breath.
While the two of them bicker like they are some man-child, you spot Hermione and the rest of your friends coming in through a tiny door and sitting at a table by the staircase. You scoot over until you are out of the seat, glad that you chose to sit at the open end of the table, without making a noise.
You make quick haste to transfer to your friends' table without garnering attention from the two Slytherin boys.
“Hide me.” You drop your heavy body on the seat beside Harry, trying your best to hunch over his relatively short upper body. 
The three instead laugh at your obvious demise, Ron not even trying to hide his amusement with such a burst of boisterous laughter. Unlike you, the three had noticed how Theodore Nott had been seen beside you much more often than necessary. At first, it was nothing that they really paid attention to, but when you told them of your otherwise eventful dreams…they began to have other thoughts.
It was clear that both of you were attracted to one another except for yourselves. And it’s been a hilarious sight to be an audience to but they are beginning to tire of your constant zoning off when the other is in your peripheral.
“What even is with you and Blaise coming to Hogsmeade together?” Ron asks. “I thought you liked Nott.”
You exhaled in exasperation, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like him.” Gritting your teeth and clenching your jaw at the blatant teasing. “I am seriously beginning to regret telling you about my dreams.”
You watch as Harry stands to grab drinks for the rest of you guys, trying to explain why you came here. Not forgetting to mention how Theo had suddenly the conversation you’ve been having with Blaise. 
You were shocked to find that the both of you actually shared a lot of the same interests in various aspects; books, music, values, name it all. So despite your previous disinclination to agree with his idea that you would get along well, you thoroughly enjoyed the short time that you spent alone. 
His genuine interest in the many muggle creations that you’ve mentioned has made you all giddy. Telling him of all and everything that he must try, making a mental note to give him some things that you have in your dorm.
On the other end, Blaise shared a few of his interests with you— though it was only very few, given that the wizarding world does not really pay much attention to those kinds of things, especially the purebloods. 
“So just because he bribed you with anything you want from Honeydukes, you agreed? Y/N!” Hermione exclaims, to which you only answer her with wide eyes. 
“What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the bewildered expression on her face. 
“You’ve been to Hogwarts for how many years now and yet you have no idea what going to Hogsmeade with only one person insinuates?”
“Uh- What?”
“That you two are going on a date of course?” She practically scolds you. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at Ron anymore when she becomes like this. It's no joke that it feels like you could be the stupidest person on the planet.
“We’re only friends, for Merlin’s sake! Well, we became friends today.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not my fault that is what might people think.”
Harry and Ron look at each other with more than amused grins on their faces.
“I think I finally know why Nott was practically making the snow melt under his feet earlier,” Ron remarks. To which you give him a confused look, unsure what he meant.
“What?”
“Well, before we came in here, we saw Nott almost stomp his way to here. I swear that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.” Ron exaggeratingly shares, taking a sip out of his pint glass. “I thought he was about to burn this place down to ashes with how he looked so mad.”
That explains why he’s being more moody than usual.
“What’s that got to do with Blaise and I?” You finally ask the question that’s been brewing in you since he mentioned it.
But the only response you get is a look of disbelief from all three of them. Each one just about screaming “Are you being serious?” without saying anything.
“Are you truly that dense Y/N?” Harry asks, his hand reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.
You push him off, glaring at him. “No, but seriously what do you mean?”
“Even Harry and Ron, oblivious as they come, recognise that Nott has some kind of interest in you.” Hermione explains, “I don’t even know if he realised it himself but the two of you are oozing love hearts everywhere you go. It’s torture to see how you both ignore it.”
You're left dumbfounded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the mere suggestion. Your thoughts racing as you consider Hermione's words. Theodore Nott, the mysterious and enigmatic Slytherin, having an interest in you? It was a revelation that sent your mind reeling, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had been completely oblivious to his feelings all along.
No. That’s just… wrong. This had to be another one of their pranks again. Ever since you confided in them of your dreams, they’ve been ceaselessly teasing you with Theo. Yeah, this must be it.
You chose to respond in a haughty tone, in an attempt to mask her flustered feelings. “Gosh, if this is what spurs in your minds when I tell you about my struggles at night, then I’d rather just keep them to myself from now on. Find something else to speculate about.” 
Unbeknownst to you, while you were so flustered trying to deny anything and everything they say of you and Theo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mentally orchestrated a plan. Harry subtly made a signal to the other two to play along as he saw Theo stand up from his heated conversation with Blaise to approach you four.
With sly smiles quickly masked, they leaned in closer to you and feigned curiosity. 
“Alright then,” Ron begins, “But I heard from Hermione that you had another dream last night. Is it as juicy as last time?” 
Harry chimed in, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Yes, please spill the details. We’re all ears.”
Caught off guard by their sudden and out-of-place interest.  “I said that I’m never telling you of anything again. And it's not juicy! Please don't ever use that word ever again.” You never wanted to divulge anything related to your rather steamy dreams again to your friends. 
“This is the last time, we promise! And we promise to not annoy you any more with Nott.” Hermione exclaims though you reach out to slap her on her arm at how loudly she said it. Looking around the bustling crowd to see if anyone heard it, confused when you see Blaise sitting with somebody else now, probably some friends from Slytherin, Theo nowhere in sight.
Little did she know that Theo had indeed overheard their conversation and as he was slowly nearing their table, curiosity piqued as he heard his name. He slowed in his steps, waiting to hear more.
Your face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you think back to last night, a bit different— a whole lot different. The dream had left you truly confused because it was nothing like the otherwise steamy ones you had. It was unsettlingly normal, and it has left you with a sense of unease that left you unable to sleep properly, terrified at what this means.
 You cleared your throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, it was just a, you know, like the ones I told you. Nothing too different. I still hate it."
Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, feigning innocence. "From the look on your face, it seems to be different. Tell us about it, pretty please."
You hesitated but then began to describe the dream in the most vague and unassuming way possible, but you knew no matter what you said, they would use this to tease you endlessly. "Alright, alright. So, in the dream, I was in the Black Lake, and there was a gentle, warm breeze. I was walking with someone, and it was peaceful. It was like…everything is normal. No war, no problems, no animosity, just us walking like any normal person.”
Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, while Hermione continued to prod gently. "And who were you walking with, Y/N?"
Your gaze darted around the table, avoiding eye contact. Not seeing how their eyes slightly shifted behind you. "Well, it was just someone... you know, a dream version of someone I know. Like you don’t know already."
Hermione shook her head, “Yeah but this is different, so it must be somebody else right?”
“Hermione…It’s Theo, who else.” 
"Y/N…" You hear a voice behind you call out in a low tone, with a thread of voice. 
Your eyes widen, filled to the brim with alertness and humiliation. Your mother was right, one day this mouth will get you in trouble— not that it hasn’t been proven countless times before— but now nothing made you want to become more one with the ground than this moment.
You swallow hard and turn around, instantly the mortification in your features becomes tenfold. There it is— the stupid, bloody smirk that is always present on his stupid, pretty face when he has caught you red-handed. 
“Don’t.” You warn.
He leans his entire weight back on the wooden post behind him, staring down at you with a look of satisfaction, unapologetically reveling in your obvious embarrassment.
“Oh, but I must.” He drawls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Your frustration surges as you fold your arms, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity in this awkward moment. You give him a glare before turning back front facing to the table.
“You are truly insufferable, you know that?”
Without even being able to see it, you already know that his grin widens at your reply. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”
Theo pushed himself off the wooden post and sauntered closer to where you were sitting, making your heart stutter. The playful glint in his eyes brings forth an image that you would rather not see right now.
"But what's the fun in letting you off the hook so easily? It’s not every day that I find out somebody has been kept awake all night because of me."
You could only continue to cast a withering look at him as you shook your head. "You just love tormenting me, don't you?"
He sits down on the seat next to you, ignoring the other occupants who have reserved to remain quiet. Truly enjoying the show that you, unfortunately, are the star of. He inches closer to you until you can almost feel your eyelashes flutter at his breath.
“Only because I quite enjoy how flustered you can be.” He admits softly, and in that moment the playful teasing in his voice gives way to something else.
A different kind of tension. 
Not one that you would like to be a part of.
“Well, that would be the last of it.” 
Theo and your friends are left bewildered when you suddenly stand and disappear among the group of rowdy students.
His eyebrows furrow and his gleaming expression turns into one of confusion and a hint of hurt and disappointment. “What just happened?”
When he finally turns to look at your friends, all they do is share uneasy glances with each other. They were unsure of how to respond to Theo’s question when they could hardly comprehend what had only occurred.
Hermione opens her mouth to say something but closes it once more when the words in her mind are a jumble.
“Astronomy Tower.” He hears someone say. His cerulean blue eyes that somehow turned grey shifted to the bespectacled boy sitting a chair away from him. “Go.” 
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“Why did you run off?” You ignore the voice that shatters the silence. The bristles of the wind brush against your clothes. Your head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeates into the air. 
He calls you by your name with a gentleness that sends tingles down your spine. But yet again, you ignore him. Choosing to stare intently at the rust that forms by the railing in front of you, the complex chemical reaction is seemingly more interesting to you now. 
“Y/N please…I don't know what’s going on your mind right now but we need to talk.” He moves to stand next to you, placing his arms on the barrier. “I will say it, no matter if you want to listen or not. We clearly have feelings for each other.”
You want to say that you are surprised that he is being so straightforward right now, but it’s evident that someone had to stop whatever dance the both of you had been playing at for the past month already. 
 “And that’s confirmed by what I heard earlier.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “Gods, I hate you so much.”
“Your dreams say otherwise.” He continues with his teasing.
“Stop it. As if you’re any better with how you acted with Blaise earlier.” You hit him back. “Blaise is an annoying ass who meddles in my business way more often than necessary. But I guess he did one thing right.”
“What?” You ask, turning your body to lean on the railing, facing him.
“He kept bothering me about you, and I guess he got tired and decided to make a move leading us to this moment.” 
“He can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be." You agree. Silence befalling after.
“Gods, I don’t know what happened but it’s you.” He breathes heavily.  
A laugh escapes your chest, “If somebody came to us two months ago and told us that we’d be acting like this, I would think they’re mental.”
Theo grins at you, making you giggle to see the little fang on the corner of his mouth. He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, making a move to press his forehead to yours as he nears.
The vivid, flashing images of Theo from your dreams doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. The skin under his touch tingled and it made you itch to reach out with your fingertips, feeling as if you would crumble beneath his hands.
You pull away to stare up at him. The cold that typically veils over his eyes are gone as they reciprocate your stare with an even warmer touch. Every nerve ends in you lighting up with a golden electricity.
Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, and then shut it, apparently struggling to remember how to talk.
So, he decided that actions seem to be your thing anyways, as the two of you are quite horrible at talking.
Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Theo leans forward and presses his lips against yours so gently. All you can think about is him even as you respond to his kiss, melting against the touch. 
He pressed himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing the gods to let you be one. Hell, he wanted to climb into your ribcage and possibly live out the rest of his days inside your heart.
You gasp as his hands creep under your shirt and trail along your lower back, though he doesn’t wander. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring eagerly.
You tilt forward, answering his devotion with an equal eagerness. In your distraction, your hands slide from their hold on his shirt and travel until your fingertips meet behind his nape.
This goes for a while before a sudden splash from the waters below you makes you jump apart, though still very much physically attached. His arms were still tightly wound around your waist.
“I think that’s a sign we should stop for now.”
“Yeah, definitely.”
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. Although you would like to have another one of your dreams to come true, you want to take it slow. The idea that he thought of you as you did to him has still not truly sunk into your mind.
Even now as he leans his face slightly towards yours again and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.
“Gods, I just realised something.” You laugh all of a sudden, making him stand up straight to look at you curiously. “What is it?”
“I just made Ron win a bet for the first time since we all became friends.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he was the first person to tease me about these stupid dreams–”
“Excuse me, I rather think it’s not.” He interrupts playfully raising an eyebrow. “Shush.”
“Anyways,” You continue, “Harry and Hermione initially thought it was nothing and that it probably would stop after a while— obviously not. So Ron set a bet that I’ll end up having feelings for you or we’ll end up together.”
He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m still surprised they didn’t hate the idea. With us being in literal houses that hate each other.”  
“They’re only annoyed at some of you, honestly. The ones that perpetuate the ‘Slytherin’ motto too much.” 
"Plus," he continued, the joking tone in his voice fading a bit, "even if they did have complaints, I would have ignored every single one and still pursued you."
“As if! You stormed to Hogsmeade just to interrupt our ‘date’ and you wouldn’t even admit it. If it weren’t for what our friends did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Let me pretend, for goodness’ sake woman!”
His playful exasperation brought a genuine smile to your face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade as you got lost in the playful banter you're used to with him.
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thehmn · 4 months
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There are some seriously untapped alternative interpretations for Cruella de Vil.
In the book she has a husband who’s simply known as Mr. de Vil (later given the first name Harry). She supposedly only married him because he’s a furrier and he’s little more than an extension to his wife. She even forced him to take her last name. He’s described as a small, worried looking man which isn’t much but compared to how other characters are described it probably means he’s shorter than most women and looks tiny next to his unusually tall wife, is slim but not thin and otherwise looks average. Other characters express worry for him because he’s married to Cruella but Cruella’s cat assures them he is just as evil as her. According to the cat Cruella is strong and bad and her husband is weak and bad. Basically, either he never gets to have sex with his wife or she pegs him. There’s no in between.
But even stranger, Cruella is heavily implied to be either an actual real demon from hell or the descendant of one. She’s always cold which is why she loves furs and she force her husband to keep their house boiling hot despite his suffering. She also loves hot spicy food, even spicy ice cream, again to her husband’s dismay. When they eat out he only eats the blandest food he can get.
And Mr. de Vil most likely knows about his wife’s true nature. When a puppy runs off while hidden under Cruella’s coat she screams that it must be bewitched while Mr. de Vil immediately jumps to the conclusion that it must be one of her dead/devilish ancestors who has come to take it away.
Make of that what you want. Considering Mr. de Vil is as evil as Cruella he could have summoned her and she just decided to stay and make him her anchor to this world.
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vivwritesfics · 7 months
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I'm Having Your Baby
It's None Of Your Business
It was supposed to just be a one night stand. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But three positive pregnancy tests later and she realises she's fucked.
(I actually don't like Harry Styles)
Warnings: smut, mention of abortion
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The bass was thumping, the music blasting and the lights flying in the club. She was letting loose, shaking her hips in time to the music. She was the envy of everybody in the club.
He was across the dance floor, sat in one of the booths lining the wall. In his hands was a jack and coke, the ice in his glass almost completely melted. Although he was on the other side of the club, he could still see her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Something about her drew him closer. He wove his way through the crowds of people until he was standing in front of her, hands of her gyrating hips. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her body along with his.
He knew he had to have her. Carlos kissed her that night. He pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her. Before long his tongue was down her throat and they had forgotten about dancing.
She ended up at his place that night. He laid her down in his bed and stripped off her clothes. She shivered in the cool air of his bedroom, but it wasn't long before his warm, naked body was on top of hers, thrusting into her, bring wave after wave of pleasure.
He rolled his hips against her, setting his pace according to his moan. He was completely focused on bringing her pleasure again and again.
Nobody had ever fucked her like that before. No single man had ever made her cum that many times.
But still, she was out of his bed, out of his house before he woke up, never to see him again.
The pregnancy test was taken three and a half weeks later. At 25 days she realised she had missed her period. It wasn't worrying until she remembered her counter in the club.
But she never expected it to come up positive. It must have been a fluke she realised. There was no way she was actually pregnant. Not after a single occurrence of unprotected sex.
But then she took another test. And then another. They all came up positive. Fuck, she really was pregnant. And she didn't even know the name of the father.
Actually, it was pretty easy to find out the name of the father. Her little brother was into Formula One, and she recognised him the moment he walked onto the screen.
She hadn't told her family of her pregnancy yet, and she wouldn't, not until she absolutely had to. She hid her pregnancy tests in her apartment and headed off to spend time with them.
It was a Sunday, so of course her brother was watching Formula One while her mother prepared Sunday night dinner. She was sat behind her brother, sipping lemonade as the driver's on the screen were interviewed.
The camera slowly panned across the Ferrari garage. Her glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. "What the hell?" Her brother shrieked as he stood up, avoiding the smashed glass.
"Who is that?" She asked as she pointed to the number 55 driver. He looked just as he did all those weeks ago, somehow better in his black fireproofs and red overalls.
Her brother gave her a frown. "That? That's Carlos Sainz, but why do you care?"
But she had already disappeared into the bathroom to throw up until she was dry heaving. Her baby daddy was Carlos Sainz, the world famous Ferrari driver.
It took her a moment to calm down. When she did, she opened her Instagram and went to his account. She scrolled through his account, as if to make sure it was definitely him. But it was undeniable.
It was a gamble going into his messages. But she had to do something to get his attention, had to let him know what was going on. If he didn't see it then so be it, she didn't need him to raise their baby.
Hi, you might not remember me but we hooked up a month ago. We met in the club and I was wearing a red dress with converse. Well, I'm pregnant.
She sent the message and walked out of the bathroom. The glass had been cleaned up from the living room floor and her family were already sat around the dinner table, the race on in the background. Her legs shook as she joined them.
"Is everything okay, dear?" Her mother asked and she nodded her head. She'd tell them, but not today.
Three days later Carlos Sainz messaged her on Instagram. She couldn't quite believe it when she woke up to that notification.
I remember
That was all he said. It was disappointing, actually. Where did she go from here?
Carlos Sainz said nothing more to her, not until a few months later. She got on with her life while their child grew inside of her, and he got on with his.
Or she assumed he did, at least. Actually, Carlos hadn't stopped thinking about it. It was distracting him from racing and training, and stopping him from eating and drinking.
He remembered her from the club, remembered fucking her. Remembered the way his cock slipped through her velvety folds.
It was one night, it couldn't have been his, right?
After four months of needless stress, Carlos finally messaged her again.
I'm sorry to do this but I need you to prove it to me
No, it was fair enough. She grabbed her pregnancy tests, stood in front of her mirror with her bump exposed. That was the picture she sent to Carlos. That was the picture that made him realise that he really was going to be a father.
Fuck. A new wave of stress rolled through him. What was he supposed to do now?
Are you keeping it?
Yes, she texted back. Yes, I'm keeping it
That wasn't the answer that Carlos wanted to see. He was going to be a father and he really didn't want to.
I want nothing to do with it
She sucked in a breath. Fine, she didn't need him. They didn't need him. But still she accepted Carlos' request on Instagram.
Something in her still wanted his attention. As soon as she could, and for as little money as possible, she booked tickets to the next grand prix.
It was hot, swelteringly so. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and shorts that showed off her bump. Her parents paid for paddock passes and she spent as long as she could walking in front of the Ferrari garage.
Carlos noticed her, but not right away. It was a minute before he regnised her. But then he was Marching over to her. "What're you doing here?" He hissed as he pulled her away from prying eyes.
She swallowed thickly. "I..." but she had nothing prepared to say to him, no excuse. She'd hoped him just seeing her bump would change his mind.
But it remained unchanged.
"I'm here with my girlfriend. You can't be here," he said. He hadn’t looked at her bump, not yet. "Get out of here," he hissed.
But she stepped up to him. "I'm having your baby, Carlos."
"It's none of my business." He turned on his heel and walked away.
819 notes · View notes
harrysgal · 4 months
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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (1)
harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU
I posted this yesterday but I wanted to change a few things so I deleted it and now I’m posting it again lol it’s long but I still hope people like it!
About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.
Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.
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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 1) — MEET YN
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liked by bestfriend, yourbrother, and 60 others 
yourinstagram here’s to a new year and new beginnings :)
view all 6 comments
bestfriend love youuuu  bestfriend im so happy to have you back!! 
↳ yourinstagram pls don’t let me choose a bf ever again ↳ bestfriend don’t worry. single squad for life ↳ bestfriend or until one of us gets married lol  ↳ yourinstagram 😂 love you!!
Jan 5, 2021 • 
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liked by bestfriend, yourbrother, and 75 others 
yourinstagram can you believe just three months ago this gal was heartbroken, unemployed, and out of dreams? guess the world reallyyyyy spins around, huh 😜
view all 8 comments
bestfriend yes it doesss  bestfriend now the universe is giving back what she deservessssss yourbrother i think i liked you better when you had no social life
↳ yourinstagram 😂 omg fuck off ↳ yourbrother if this is the language you use around my children i’m never letting you babysit again ↳ yourinstagram 😔 stop that’s not funny
Feb 10, 2021 •
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liked by sisterinlaw, bestfriend, and 60 others 
yourinstagram got myself a camera and a dream (plus an empty bank account)
view all 7 comments 
yourmom Are you OK? Do you need money? x
↳ yourinstagram im okay mom :) love you ↳ yourbrother my bank account is empty too
bestfriend can’t wait to be your +1 at the academy awards 
Feb 26, 2021 •
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liked by yourbrother, bestfriend, and 85 others 
yourinstagram step aside pls your girl just posted her first video on youtube and is now one step closer from becoming a filmmaker ✌🏻
view all 13 comments 
bestfriend THAT’S MY BESTIE sisterinlaw Loved it!! 💋 yourmom I miss you. Give me a call x yourmom Also you should post pictures of your face x
↳ yourinstagram 😂💗
childhoodfriend Nice to see you still love telling stories, haha great video!
↳ yourinstagram oh my gosh it’s been a while! 🥺 thank youuu let’s catch up soon  
Mar 19, 2021 •
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liked by yourbrother, bestfriend, and 167 others 
yourinstagram life lately
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user1 just watched your video on youtube about growing up and i’m in tears! you’re soooo talented
↳ yourinstagram omg that’s so sweet thank you so much :’) 
yourbrother why bothering buying a camera if you’re going to steal mine
↳ yourinstagram i didn’t steal it  ↳ yourbrother but you also didn’t give it back yet did you? 
user2 Loving your content!!
April 10, 2021 •
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liked by bestfriend, anotherfriend, and 319 others 
yourinstagram hellooooo i just posted another video :D even tho she’s not physically in it, i must admit our 20+ years together completely inspired this one. thank you for being there for me. i’m very lucky to call you my best friend and i love you 💗 hope you enjoy it!
view all 25 comments 
bestfriend i cant rn i’ll be back when i stop crying user1 amazing!!! another great video! loved everything about it, left me thinking and wondering about lots of things. i’m blown away by how talented you are.
↳ yourinstagram you’re so sweet 🥺 thank you, it means more than you can imagine!
yourmom Lovely girls 🥰 user3 This was my favorite so far!
April 21, 2021 •
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liked by bestfriend, sisterinlaw and 512 others 
yourinstagram got my first paycheck and went out shopping 
(ps: remember when my ex freaked out bc he didn’t want me to buy harrys album? lol here’s to you pal) (fine line you’ll be next i promise!)
view all 57 comments 
bestfriend harry styles album listening party tonight
↳ yourinstagram as if we don’t already listen to it everyday lol 
user1 you’re so real for this lol user1 also wtf? why didn’t he want you to buy the album? 
↳ yourinstagram bc he was jealous and insecure  ↳ bestfriend jealous that you’d bump into harry someday, mention you bought his album and he’d fall in love with you  ↳ yourinstagram lol talk about delusional  ↳ bestfriend he just knew your potential ↳ user1 😂😂😂
yourbrother so YOU are the reason why my daughter is suddenly obsessed? user5 Omg didn’t know you’re also a harry fan! What’s your favorite song?
↳ yourinstagram sign of the times always and forever
May 6, 2021 •
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liked by bestfriend, yourmom and 750 others 
yourinstagram just me and my little camera conquering the world ❤️ lol no but srsly, i know it’s only been a month since i posted my first video on youtube but so far ive had suchhhh a great time working hard to make my dreams come true :’) i sometimes fear my content isn’t much or isn’t professional enough, so the feedback i’ve been getting truly warms my heart and puts a smile on my face! thank you. thank you. thank you.
view all 86 comments 
bestfriend ❤️❤️❤️ yourbrother why are you still living in 2020? 
↳ yourinstagram why are you so annoying?
yourmom We’re very proud sweetheart x
↳ yourinstagram wouldn’t have done anything without your support! love you ❤️
user1 your content is AMAZING! the way you bring little stories to each video has me obsessed 
↳ yourinstagram i love telling stories so much!! im happy you enjoy them! 
user3 Honestly you’re one of the most creative people I’ve come across lately. The way you approach each topic with so much honesty and tell real life stories while not really including people in your shots is incredible!
↳ yourinstagram omg thank you so so much! this means the world me! 
May 6, 2021 •
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liked by bestfriend, sisterinlaw and 910 others 
yourinstagram hiii i just posted a new video on youtube and im really nervous about it lol this is really different from the others + a little longer, but also the most special so far. it includes a very memorable moment we lived as a family just a couple weeks ago so i trulyyyy hope you enjoy it! lmk your thoughts plssss
view all 103 comments 
user1 i just sent this video to everyone i know. i feel like i say this every time but this one is my favorite yet!! you’re so talented i want to live inside your brain
↳ yourinstagram hahahha you’re the best thank you sooooo much for your constant support!
bestfriend ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THIS WAS MY FAVORITE ONE SO FAR  bestfriend pls take me to a concert and make a short film of me dancing to my favorite songs too 😭 i beg you!!!!
↳ yourinstagram let’s do it! ed sheeran? beyonce? harry styles? ↳ bestfriend YES ↳ yourinstagram yes it’s not an answer lol you were supposed to pick one 
user8 👏👏👏 you’ve outdone yourself with this one!  user4 You’re so real about this one! My mom LOVES Shania Twain too and the day she saw her live for the first time was exactly like this! She just turned into a fangirl all over again haha 
May 27, 2021 •
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user2 Hey there. I’m so happy youtube just recommended this to me. I’m in love with your content! So creative and touching. I’m definitely going back to binge all your other videos now. I was just wondering, though, is this your real family? I’m only asking because from the way you tell the story it feels so much like watching a movie that it made me wonder if they were actors following a script 😅 hope you don’t take it the wrong way. Have a good one!
↳ youryoutube hiii thank you so much for watching and for being so respectful and polite about your comment! 😊 this is my own family, yes! i actually wasn’t planning on filming this, but my brother and i took my mom to see shania twain (who’s like, her favorite artist of all times!) and i woke up inspired to make a little video about it. i’m really glad you enjoyed it, and i’m actually really flattered by your question, because this was the first time i didn’t script a video at all and was really afraid in the end it wouldn’t come up the way i wanted to. so thank you!!  ↳ user2 Oh, wow! Thanks so much for taking the time to answer me. That’s really interesting to know. Loved how you managed to capture the emotions without actually exposing anyone. I also enjoyed how this isn’t just a “vlog”, if that makes sense. It truly feels like an actual story with beginning, middle and end (I mean, there’s even some drama in it!). So cheers to you! Can’t wait to see what else you’ll come up with in the future.  ↳ youryoutube THANK YOU! oh my goodness that’s exactly what i’m always going for :’) thank you, thank you!! 
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liked by bestfriend, yourbrother and 3,614 others 
yourinstagram hello????? i just woke up to the news that the one and only queen and goddess shania twain watched my video????? and shared it?????? what the hell it’s happening????? 
view all 245 comments 
yourbrother thought you were going to expose mom losing it on our gc haha bestfriend I’M COMING OVER WE’RE FUCKING CELEBRATING user1 😍😍😍 yesssss love to see you getting bigger and bigger!! user18 omg that video was so cute!! also love your aesthetic user14 your mom’s excitement was the sweetest it left me in tears  harryfan say 🙋‍♀️ if you’re here because gemma shared her video
↳ harryfan2 🙋‍♀️ ↳ harryfan3 🙋‍♀️
Jun 1, 2021 •
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liked by bestfriend, anotherfriend and 5,875 others 
yourinstagram good morning?? is life even real?? 
last week was sooo insane omg im still over the moon and also so happy reading everyone’s reaction to my mom’s dream coming true 🥺 everyone’s just so sweet and kind! thank you!! i wish i could spend the entire day around just chatting and celebrating, but today is a big and busy day for me so wish me luck im really gonna need it 
view all 541 comments 
bestfriend remember there was a time when i used to be the first and only to like your posts? :’) user1 good luck!! user4 Can’t wait for your next video! user9 I THINK I JUST HEARD YOUR INTERVIEW ON THE RADIO??
↳ user10 Yesss. I was driving to work and I heard that too haha ↳ user3 omg what did she talk about? ↳ user9 @user3 they were basically asking about the video/her mom. she explained that it was a really spontaneous thing and that she wasn’t planning on doing more of those but after seeing everyone’s reaction she’s changing her mind. oh, she also mentioned she never expected shania to see her video and that she still doesn’t know how it got to her in the first place!
Jun 8, 2021 •
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liked by anotherfriend, cuteguy and 6,513 others 
yourinstagram quick life update: got a part-time job. moved to a new apartment. completed my harry styles album collection. went on a date with a cute guy. posted another video. 
so far no complaints. 300/10.
view all 617 comments 
bestfriend can’t believe ‘went out for dinner with my best friend’ didn’t make the cut 
↳ yourinstagram sorry that’s bts content
user5 Your last video was amazing!! So were the last two before that!! Totally feel like you found yourself in the music field 
↳ user1 omg i totally agree! i can totally see this becoming a series or something like this ↳ yourinstagram ohhhh i love the idea!! :) 
harryfan any chance this cute guy was harry styles himself?
↳ yourinstagram 😂😂😂 minus 100% chances 
user3 Is this part time job film related maybe?
↳ yourinstagram i wish :( needed a normal part time job to pay for my dream job actually lol
harryfan2 omg which one of his albums did you get?
↳ user5 she already has self titled so she must’ve gotten fine line now
June 25, 2021 •
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liked by bestfriend, cuteguy and 8,315 others 
yourinstagram sorry i havent been here the past few days but i was busy playing hide and seek with my niblings (i just found out there’s a word for niece + nephew btw. how cool is that?!!)
view all 732 comments 
harryfan girl tell me why i came here to watch one video and never left? :’) 
↳ user1 lol same!! she’s great isn’t she?
yourbrother i hope you know you’ll be the one buying your goddaughter a ticket for that harry styles boy
↳ harryfan2 “that harry styles boy” lol excuse me sir? ↳ yourinstagram you’re about to get soooooo dragged and all im gonna do is sit here and watch lol ↳ sisterinlaw I’m sitting here, too!!
user4 your posts always brighten up my day 😍
July 3, 2021 •
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liked by cuteguy, yourmom and 11,798 others 
yourinstagram i can’t believe there are so many people watching me post stuff like this lol i don’t really know how to behave and i get easily embarrassed so if you don’t mind i’ll just pretend we are no more than 5 friends just hanging out okay? thanks!!
btw wanted to share that we took my niece to see ariana grande so…… guess what??? new video will be up tomorrow :D this one is once again a little bit different from the others idk im always trying new things so let’s see if it works!! 
view all 931 comments 
cuteguy 😍 bestfriend when is it going to be my turn? :(( user3 omg can’t wait!!! will we finally get to meet your niece??
↳ yourinstagram nooo:( i don’t feel comfortable sharing them on the internet. that’s also why you’ll see this video is kinda from a parents perspective? idk how to explain with words you gotta watch it to see it haha ↳ user2 we love a respectful and mindful woman 💪
harryfan can’t wait for the day you see harry omg i just know that will be the best video ever
↳ harryfan3 right like so many fandoms have been getting these incredible videos i’m so jealous
July 12, 2021 •
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liked by yourinstagram, bestfriend, sisterinlaw and 4,339,032 others
harrystyles LOVE ON TOUR will be going out across the USA this September and I could not be more excited for these shows. I love you all so much. I’m very excited, and I can’t wait to see you. H
view all 100,888 comments 
bestfriend @yourinstagram 🤭 harryfan @yourinstagram THIS IS IT DO YOUR THING PLS I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT user2 OMG ARE WE FINALLY GETTING A SHORT MOVIE??? SAY YES PLS OMG @yourinstagram user7 i feel like if yn doesn’t take @bestfriend to at least one show there will be blood 😂
↳ bestfriend @yourinstagram see? everyone knows it should happen ↳ yourinstagram @bestfriend STOP WE’RE SO FUCKING DOING THIS ↳ harryfan AIDHASASJDBAJHAJH I’M SO EXCITD
July 14, 2021 •
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liked by cuteguy, anotherfriend and 14,513 others 
yourinstagram had a reallyyyyy huge meeting today and i was losing my shit so this really cute guy took me out for a coffee :D 
(new video’s up!!! hope you enjoy it!)
view all 1,007 comments 
user4 are you guys sharing a piece of cake? stop that’s so sweet :(  user8 omg she has a bf?? but what about harry?? lol
↳ harryfan7 THAT’S WHAT I SAID!! she was supposed to go to his show so he could see her in the crowd and fall in love 😩 ↳ harryfan12 lol please harry doesn’t even know who she is. also maybe don’t be disrespectful to the guy she’s actually dating? ↳ user8 @harryfan12 it was just a choke chill out lol
user1 can’t wait for the new video!!! (also… important meeting??? 👀)
July 29, 2021 •
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liked by bestfriend, mollyjane_x, cuteguy and 17,283 others 
yourinstagram i dont think you guys will ever understand how much you watching and spreading the word about my videos has changed my life. it hasnt been even even six months since i started posting on youtube and yet it feels like i’ve lived four years so far. thank you soooo much for deciding to join this ride with me!
also, so much is happening rn that i feel like i need to sort some things out and reorganize myself. so there’ll be a new video up tonight, and then i’ll be taking a short break before releasing any new content. it won’t be long, just a couple of weeks that will mostly be used to feed my creativity once again lol (and also to plan and script some exciting new projects!!) 
i hope you stay around and wait for me. i’ll see you back really soon 💗
view all 1,345 comments 
sisterinlaw 💗 user1 take all the time we need we’ll be here waiting for you!! <3 user3 you deserve all this sooo much!! harryfan7 i see you molly 👀
↳ harryfan11 no bc how are you even a harry fan and don’t absolutely freak out when harry’s creative director likes your post?? ↳ harryfan8 also his manager following her??? i mean what are the chances of being just a coincidence? 
bestfriend i love youuu and i’m so freaking proud of you 💗 user4 I’ll miss your content because it always puts a smile on my face, but I totally understand and can’t wait to see what’s next!
Aug 13, 2021 •
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liked by cuteguy, mollyjane_x, gemmastyles and 19,107 others 
yourinstagram so……. i kinda quit my part time job to start this other full time job? which is now finally related to something i truly love?? 😅 oh god!! i dont even know what to say. all i know is that im about to start the craziest adventure of my life and even tho im about to board the plane i still cant believe it is ACTUALLY happening. again, thank you so much for spreading the word about my videos and for being so kind about them. thank you for deciding i was worth your time every week. im only here right now bc you gave me the chance in the first place so thank you thank you thank you! 
i’ll share more details as soon as i can (and when i’m sure i wont jinx it lol) but for now, THANK YOU!
view all 1,501 comments 
cuteguy have fun, call me when you land 😘 harryfan you’re going to the LOT and nobody can convince me otherwise!!
↳ user4 why wouldn’t she just say it, tho? ↳ harryfan idk she normally never shares she’s going to a show anyway she just posts the video later 🤷 
harryfan8 the fact that molly and jeff followed her and now molly likes all of her posts can’t be random. also she quitting her job and traveling the same day so many from harry’s crew are traveling? 
↳ harryfan2 AND GEMMA LIKING THIS POST? WHY IS PEOPLE SILENT ABOUT THIS?????
harryfan7 gemma liked this post but she doesn’t even follow her??? bestfriend i miss you already can’t wait to visit you!! user1 im so excited whatever it is you deserve it so much!!!!
Aug 25, 2021 •
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PART 2: LAS VEGAS
— — — — —
I’m not hopeful people will read and enjoy this, but if you happen to do so pls let me know? :( thanks!!
421 notes · View notes
chilling-seavey · 2 months
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Dreamland (ln4) - Part Six
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↳ A/N Here is the promised second part to part 5 since I get so carried away all the time and write too much for Tumblr to handle!!! Excited to hear your thoughts on this one hehe.
↳ Inspired By: 'Grapejuice' by Harry Styles
↳ Summary: George and Alex visit Lando in Monaco for a week that summer. Their visit seems to align perfectly well with the week where yours and Lando's situationship is tested the most
↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex
↳ Word Count: 11.9k
↳ Warnings: 18+, drinking, brief mentions of sex and similar and related adult endeavors.
PART FIVE || PART SEVEN
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Lando was fast asleep the next morning, out like a light, as if he hadn’t slept in days. In the familiar warmth of your California king bed, he was at home in your presence and had been cuddling you close all night from the very moment you returned from the office and got into bed. He felt closer to you than ever and safe by your side. 
The movement of you turning around in his embrace had him rousing slightly and you slid your arms around his middle to nuzzle into his neck with a sleepy sigh. He gently rubbed your back and let his fingers tangle in the ends of your hair, touching you delicately and lovingly as you melted into him. Under the covers, your leg gently nudged its way between his just to feel him wrapped up with you as close as possible. He kissed your head. 
“Morning, sunshine.” you mumbled sleepily against his warm skin. 
“Morning, beautiful.” Lando rubbed your back. 
You leaned your head back to get a look at his face but the amount of brightness in the room had you startling, throwing yourself away from him just as he went to lean in for a kiss. Shocked, Lando watched as you threw the blankets off and you snatched your phone from the bedside table. 
“Shit!” you gasped. “I’m so late!” 
Lando sat up as you jumped out of bed and hurried around the corner to your closet to grab a random outfit in your rush. Still trying to wake up from his incredible sleep, he rubbed his eyes, “What time is it?”
“10:45!” you answered, coming back into the room pulling up your pants with a blouse tossed over your shoulder. “I must have forgotten to set an alarm!”
“I thought you were the boss and can decide when you go in.” Lando countered. 
“Not when I have a meeting.” you sighed, clipping your bra and pulling on your shirt over top. “A meeting that started fifteen minutes ago.”
“I don’t want you to go.” Lando pouted. He was slouched back against the pillows and headboard, arms stretching themselves awake above his head and he broke into a small yawn in the process. 
“Me neither.” you disappeared into the ensuite to apply the fastest face of makeup and brush your teeth. 
Although you were clearly in a rush, Lando felt no need to get up and he pulled your blankets higher around him cozily. He waited for your return, unbothered. You came back into the bedroom not long later, clearly stressed, and Lando sat up a bit more to lean towards you and grabbed your hand. 
“Take a breath, sweetheart.”
You didn’t tell him how much that simple sentence made your heart skip a beat. 
You merely leaned in and kissed his lips, “I gotta go, baby. Come on, I still have to drive you.”
Lando got out of bed finally and started to dress back in his clothes from the day before, “I can bus back to the hotel.”
“Are you sure?” 
“Yeah. I know the way. Don’t worry about me.” 
“Okay. Thank you.” you said almost guiltily. 
Dressed and ready to go in seconds, Lando followed after you out of your bedroom and into the main area of your single-storey penthouse and you grabbed your work bags and slipped into your heels that had been left by the door the previous night. When you were both all ready to go, Lando slid his hand around your waist and pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 
You let go of the door handle and reached your hand to the back of his neck to kiss him a little more. You were already late. What was a few seconds more? 
With you in your heels and Lando in his sneakers, you were an inch taller than him but he adored that about you and his hands around your waist pulled you closer to his body even with the ever so slight tilt to his head to reach your lips. It was the faintest difference but he loved it. He loved you. 
“I really gotta go, Lan.” you mumbled against his lips. 
“Mhm.” he pulled away. “Just needed that before we have to go out and face society.”
You smiled sweetly and kissed him once more. Then you opened your front door and with the blessing of the late morning air, your façades were put up. 
Lando was back at the hotel by 12:00 after a bus ride into downtown. He was walking on air the whole way back to the room and with a proud smile at just the idea of how his friends would react, Lando swiped the key card and the door unlocked. 
Inside their shared hotel room, George was lounging back on his bed watching a football game on TV and Alex was standing by the adjacent desk shuffling through his bag. The sound of the door opening had them both looking over to where Lando stepped inside. 
“That’s a smug walk of shame if I’ve ever seen one.” George smirked. 
Lando just smiled wider and set his key on the dresser beside the tv, making his friends linger on the secrecy just a little longer. 
“Okay, spill it.” Alex pressed impatiently. 
“We talked…” Lando started slowly, dragging out his explanation syllable by innocent syllable, “I met her at the office after hours to confront her…we ordered dinner and just calmly talked it out.”
George and Alex blinked at him, waiting. 
Lando couldn’t hold it back any longer - the smile on his face was just growing impossible to smother, “But only after I fucked the shit out of her all over her office!” 
George and Alex burst into teasing laughter infused with proud celebration and Lando took their pride boastfully. He turned to the full length mirror on the hotel room wall and pulled up the bottom of his shirt to glance back at his reflection, showing off the fading red scratches that still lingered from the night before. 
“Holy shit!” Alex gaped and took the step over to turn him around to see better, “Lan, that’s your worst one yet.” 
George was right beside him in a second, giving Lando’s shoulder a shove, “Jesus, mate!” 
“Kid’s growing up.” Alex tisked, slinging an arm around Lando’s shoulders and ruffled his hair. 
Lando just laughed and shoved him away.
“It’s good to see you happy again.” George said. Alex agreed easily. 
“Yeah, well, it was a good night. In multiple ways.” Lando shrugged, “She really heard me when I explained why I was upset. She’s going to tell Pierre about us this weekend.” 
“Oh?” Alex raised his eyebrows, “That’s huge.”
“Stick it to him that you got his girl.” George nodded.
Lando licked away his smile, not wanting to admit that George’s words were exactly what he had been thinking since the moment you had assured him you would tell Pierre about your little situationship. After so much hurt from seeing the two of you together over the prior year or more, Lando finally felt like he was more himself and was going to have a secret little cup of payback where the boyfriend figure that had caused him so much heartbreak and stress was going to get a taste of it right back. 
Alex picked up his phone again and smiled down at the screen before typing away, his strange behaviour peaking Lando’s interest.
“What’s with you?” Lando asked. “Why are you so dressed up?”
“Dressed up? Alex looked down at his outfit, “I’m in a t-shirt.”
“And slacks.”
George took his seat back against the headboard again as he sang teasingly, “Alex’s got a date.”
“It’s not a date.” Alex corrected him for the nth time. He didn’t mention to Lando that he had told them where he was going the day before when they were around the pool. Lando had his mind elsewhere then and it was clear he forgot…it was understandable. Instead, he told him again, “Lily and I are going golfing today.”
“Right!” Lando snapped his fingers, “I knew that.” 
Alex smiled widely over at him and then looked back to his phone. He was obviously messaging her and George and Lando exchanged glances with their friend’s back turned. 
“Anyway,” Alex slid his phone into his pocket and clapped his hands together, “before she gets here, I wanna know all the filthy details from last night.”
“Oh and get your mind all gross before you go out on your first date with this girl? No way.” Lando tisked.
Alex gaped, “What? That doesn’t matter!”
Lando punched his arm, “Hey, I’m doing her a favour by not telling you. Otherwise you will have horrible thoughts in your brain and might try to lunge at her in the front seat of the golf cart.”
George dramatically ‘oooo’ed from a few paces away.
“Oh fuck off.” Alex tried to hide his blush as he turned away from him and pulled out his phone again. 
“Are you gonna try and kiss her at least after?” George asked. 
“I dunno!” Alex’s defences were up and it was clear by the tone in his voice, “It’s, like, our first time hanging out…that’s really soon. I don’t even know if she likes me like that.”
George pitched his eldest advice, “Well I don’t think her asking you out for lunch and a round of golf gives ‘I like you like a little brother’ vibes.” 
“Ew, mate.” Alex scrunched up his face. 
“I vote kiss her.” Lando said. 
“Same.” George without taking his eyes off the football game that was still playing on the tv.
“Stop, you’re making me nervous.” Alex grumbled, walking past Lando as he pulled his phone out of his pocket again, nervously checking for any notifications from her. With a gasp, he shut them up, “She’s here! How do I look?”
“Sexy.” George answered.
“Hot.” Lando answered at the same time. 
“‘Nice’ would have sufficed but thanks.” Alex shook his head. He was too nervous to be dramatic with them. He shared quick daps with his two best friends and then had to hurry out the door without a look back. 
Lando had just joined George to watch the football game when his own phone buzzed with a notification and he smiled at your name across his screen. 
-I miss you so much. I wish we could have just stayed in bed all day. Meeting is done and I just want to leave and see you. I’m just sitting in my office with vivid memories of how you fucked me last night…I swear this desk smells like you…I’m going crazy.  -Lily texted me saying she’s super nervous for this date with Alex…although she made sure to correct me that it wasn’t a date -It’s totally a date -Anyway, that just makes me miss you more. Would be bored out my mind at the golf course but with you I’m sure we’d make it fun -What are your plans tomorrow night? I’m thinking a huge group dinner with all of our friends before the guys have to leave? -Oh and I’m telling Pierre about us tomorrow morning. We have a PR meeting and I plan on telling him before it. The team can’t know but he can -Sorry I’m spamming I miss you -Miss you soooo much -💕💕💕
Lando was absolutely beaming as he read your messages, each one popping up at the bottom of your text thread as he held his phone in his hand. He was grinning so widely that he was almost shining and George shook his head from his spot nearby.
“Great, I’m totally fifth wheeling now.” 
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Lando was so impatient to see you that he and his two best friends were already waiting at the curb when you pulled up the following evening to drive them to dinner. As usual, Lando claimed shotgun and it took everything in him to stop himself from leaning over and kissing you hello the moment he got in your car. He just shamelessly checked you out from the distance he was at, skimming your tight red dress that rested halfway up your thighs, simply asking him to touch you. He refrained. He was sure he deserved an award for best self control.
For Alex and George’s last night in the city, you were treating them to a classy restaurant known for its social media popularity among artists and influencers alike - but also known for its steak, dessert, and elaborate plate presentation. Lando felt slightly underdressed in his black slacks and t-shirt, made only slightly dressier with a black jacket overtop and finished with a silver chain he borrowed from Alex. With you at his side in a cocktail dress and strappy heels, Lando felt like he should have at least pulled out a button up. 
The location wasn’t too far away from the hotel and soon you were pulling into the parking lot beside the glass and wood trimmed restaurant. As usual, you were the first ones to arrive and you lingered in the parking lot in the light of the setting sun as you waited for your friends to join. Alex and George were talking amongst themselves with you and Lando close by although Lando was hardly focused on his friends. 
Standing right up at your side, he kept his hands in his pockets but whispered to you honestly, “You look so gorgeous.” 
You smiled at him, “Thank you. So do you.”
“Is this outfit okay?” he asked, glancing down at himself. 
“Yeah. The jacket is a nice touch.” you tugged gently at the open zipper. 
He couldn’t even offer a reply before Alex was calling out to your little group, “Lily is here!”
Oscar’s car pulled into the parking lot only a few short moments after you had and Lily, who was claiming the passenger seat, reached over to honk the horn a few times at the sight of you. Oscar swatted her hand away before focusing on carefully pulling into the empty parking spot next to your Mercedes. You and the guys moved forward to greet your newly arrived friends as they stepped out of the convertible in their own classy outfits that expertly matched the vibes of yours - almost as if it was their job to half the time. 
Alex - trying not to make much of a deal - slid casually between you and George to get to Lily first and he almost completely froze up for a second before they met for a quick hug. George snorted. You elbowed him. 
After Alex and Lily had gone on their not-date the previous day, you were surprised with a phone call from her once she had returned home by evening. She had told you everything - of course - from how they got along so well that there was hardly even a second of silence between them the entire afternoon as their conversations just flowed so easily. Honestly, she was completely gushing about him to you which only had you smiling proudly through the phone as she told you the details of their trip for ice cream after sharing a game of golf. You could almost hear the blush in her voice as she confessed how he had asked to kiss her at the end of the afternoon and how she let him; both of them sharing their first kisses with each other in the front seat of her car. 
Lando and George got similar recaps from Alex around the same time. They were always ones to confide in their best friends. 
But now, seeing each other for the first time since their not-date, there was a hint of awkwardness in the air as they were still figuring out where they stood. You and Lando shared knowing little smiles from the back of your small group. 
Your little group made your way to the front of the restaurant and Lily and Alex lingered at the back as they talked together. The host led you through the dimly lit restaurant to your reserved table for eight, leaving you with menus and a confirmation with you that anything you need, just let us know…the manager has already alerted staff of your party. It was a bit over the top you thought but you just smiled politely and took to your seat. Lando sat on your right with Alex beside him and Lily on the other end, leaving George and Oscar to sit across from them. There were two seats empty directly across from you and Lando but they were to be filled shortly. 
“I’m thinking a bottle of red for the table.” you announced, “Anyone want white or something else too?”
“Whatever you think is best.” Oscar answered. 
When your drinks were ordered and the waiter brought over the bottle, pouring you a taste, Lando’s gaze lingered on your red painted lips as you brought your glass to your mouth. He licked his lips slowly as you sipped and then licked your own, giving the waiter a nod with a smile so he could pour everyone a glass and leave the table with the bottle. 
You took your time to read over the menus and decide what you all wanted to order, letting the ambiance of the classy restaurant swirl around your warmly lit table. Lando could hardly process the words on his menu because he was trying so hard not to look at you. It was nice to be out with you in public but the constant need to be completely secretive nearly drove him crazy. 
Soon, your remaining two friends arrived to complete your reservation. Walking smoothly across the marble floor, two pairs of dress shoes clicked faintly behind the restaurant chatter and, with a handsome blonde on his arm, Charles greeted your group excitedly. 
Everyone looked over at them as they approached in their similar neutral toned outfits, perfectly classy and respectable for your chosen dinner venue, and as you and your friends broke into smiles at their arrival, the guys simply stared, mouths slightly open. 
It must have slipped your mind to mention to Lando that Charles’s boyfriend was finally going to be returning to town just in time for your dinner. Of course, he had heard about Max from Charles over the duration of the summer and seen the framed pictures on her desk in the office, but nothing compared to the real life essence of the real thing right in front of him. Lando was completely straight - and wholeheartedly dedicated to you, might he add - but he had to admit to himself that he had never seen a more stunning man in all twenty-one years of his life. 
“Max!” you almost cheered, hopping out of your seat to rush over to greet them.
Max smiled warmly at you and offered out his one arm that wasn’t claimed by his boyfriend to welcome your friendly hug. It only lasted for a second or two before you were all returning to the table and as Max took his spot across from Lando, Charles was gladly placing himself in the seat beside. 
You briefly introduced Max to the guys, finishing with a passé touch to Lando’s arm when you introduced him third. Best for last, subconsciously. From the spot across from him, Max let a little smile play at his lips as he eyed up Lando. 
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Lando’s eyes widened, “I- What?”
Max, with his arm around the back of Charles’ chair, said, “This one has kept me updated on everything that has been going on since I’ve been gone.”
Lando was suddenly going pink in the cheeks at the concept that Charles could have told him everything. It was lucky for him that the restaurant lighting was so dim. 
As if playing it off, Max followed up, “How’s the job?”
Lando cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “It’s…really great.”
“I bet.” Max picked up his wine glass and took a sip, peaking one of his brows over the edge in Lando’s direction. 
He totally knew more than he let on. 
Changing the subject, you asked eagerly, “How was Paris, Max?”
“Beautiful.” Max answered, his voice rich and full, “I was lucky I could see some sights between work.”
Alex piped up, “What do you do for work?”
Max only smiled modestly but Charles answered proudly for him, patting his hand against his chest, “He’s a model.” 
“Shit.” George gaped. 
“Believable, right?” Oscar said with a smirk. 
“Yep, front page of Cartier’s spring collection will be this handsome face.” Charles bragged. 
Max kissed his cheek.
Lando watched their obvious shows of affection with wide eyes, unfamiliar with such displays, and he looked over at you as if to check to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. You glanced back at him and shared a brief smile. He could see the way your eyes dropped briefly to his lips as if wanting to kiss him too. You couldn’t. You turned back to your friends, picking up your glass of wine. 
The waiter returned to take orders and as you all waited for appetizers to arrive, conversation returned to Max’s travels and all that he accomplished in Paris between studio shoots and on-location shoots…interviews, promo, and ceremonies. He promised that next time he would go, he would go for leisure; to which he added a casual drape of his arm around the back of Charles’ chair and a sweet compliment that he would take him with him. He spoke of creating art at the base of the Eiffel Tower, tea in the picturesque cafés…Lando was envious, his heart aching for that too. He looked back at you, staring at the way you rested your chin in your hand and watched with admiration how the lovebirds spoke together. 
“But for now I’m just happy to have you home.” Charles said adoringly.
Max leaned into his touch, “First person I looked for when I got off the plane.”
Oscar’s little teasing gag from the other end of the table had you all chuckling and Max only scooted his chair closer to his boyfriend and draped his arm around him. 
Charles smiled over at Lando’s obvious staring, “Yeah, you’re going to be seeing a lot of him around the office now.”
Max nodded, his expression scarily serious, “Going to make sure you stay on task.”
Lando offered a slightly nervous laugh. 
The appetisers arrived shortly after and you all took a moment to begin eating, the clatter of cutlery filling your table rather than conversation. Lando couldn’t help but keep looking at you, watching the way you rested your napkin on your lap or the gentle way you poured your dressing over the salad in front of you. He looked down to his own bowl and nudged a piece of lettuce with his fork. 
With a smile, you directed to your friends across from you, “Well I’m glad that you allowed your first date back together to be with all of us.” 
“Of course. All my favourite people.” Charles said easily. 
“And we have lots of time for our own dates.” Max added, his hand on his thigh gently caressing him, “We are visiting the art museum tomorrow, right, darling?” 
Lily spoke up, “I haven’t been in so long. I hear they have a new photography exhibit.” 
“Yes! That is what encouraged me to buy tickets.” Max agreed with a smile. 
“Speaking of dates though…” Charles faded out, offering a smirk in Lily’s direction, “Anything you want to share with the table?”
Everyone looked over. Alex cleared his throat.
“I hear it went well.” you added, sending Charles a little smile from across the table. 
“Shut up.” Lily snapped, although her tone was more embarrassed than upset. 
You leaned forward to look down to her end of the group, “Oh come on, everyone at this table knows.” 
“Little golfing…little ice cream…little kissing…” George sang teasingly. 
“Okay.” Alex laughed nervously.
“I guess the date was,” you giggled, “a hole in one.”
The table groaned at your horrible pun but Lando just licked away his smile and glanced over at you. You peaked a brow at him as if to say ‘impressive, right?’ and he just laughed softly and shook his head. Your hand on his thigh startled him slightly, unprepared for any sort of touch from you, and he dropped his hand on top of yours for a moment as the table continued harassing poor Alex and Lily about their date. Lando gave your hand a squeeze for a second before you were pulling away to be just as inconspicuous as you were expected to be. 
Appetizers came and went and soon you were awaiting the entrees. The bottle of red wine was emptied and replaced by the waiter and you were well onto your second glass by then, poured by Lando’s own hand for you while he topped up his own. 
Despite the conversation that lingered among your group, Lando was more focused on the private moments between Charles and Max across from him. He tried not to stare but it was hard when they were everything he wanted to be with you. Whether it was their hand holding or sharing fleeting kisses or even the way one would wipe the corner of the other’s mouth free of sauce with the edge of his napkin, Lando just wanted that to be him and you. You seemed oblivious though as your focus was on George who was deep in explanation about something Lando had already heard probably twice over. Lando sipped his wine. 
Lando was hooked on the way Charles and Max interacted. Their sweetness nearly made him equal parts smiley and jealous. He only imagined it to be you and how maybe one day he would be able to kiss you at dinner or feed you dessert from his fork like the perfect pair. He was so in his head that he didn’t realize he had already cut through his steak until the knife screeched against the plate, earning displeased words from the group. He stuffed the bite in his mouth without saying anything else. 
“Can I steal a fry, mon cœur?” Charles gestured to his boyfriend’s plate. 
He nodded, “Of course, darling.”
Lando set his fork down and tried to distract himself with his food. He skimmed the table for the salt and then nudged your arm gently, “Can you pass the salt, sweetheart?”
The whole table literally stopped what they were doing and looked at him in shock, silence falling quickly over your group.
Lando’s cheeks burned as he stared at your wide, warning eyes. 
“I-I mean-” Lando cleared his throat, “Not sweet- because it’s salt…I’m…”
Alex snorted from his other side, “Nice save.”
You grabbed the salt and passed it to him. Lando lowered his voice quickly, “I’m sorry- it just slipped out.” 
“We can’t afford slip ups, Lan, come on.” you whispered back, glancing around at the nearby tables just to make sure no strangers had heard. You might have been a little paranoid. 
“I know. I’m sorry.” 
You set your hand on his knee under the table, “It’s okay.”
Lando salted his steak a little before grabbing his wine glass and finishing the last bit in one long sip, trying not to focus on the way your touch burned across his skin. George smothered his smile at him from across the table, hiding it behind a bite of his own dinner. 
Max had inquired about how your work was going and you spoke to it happily, explaining how your writing was progressing and the few meetings you had booked for the next week. Lando could have listened to you talk about your passion for writing for hours. The way you lit up just made his eyes turn to hearts. Your writing was how he fell in love with you after all, and nothing was more special to him than that. 
You set a hand on his arm, “But of course, my wonderful intern here has been an incredible help this summer.”
All knowing about your little situationship, your friends all shared little ‘ooo’s and smiles. 
You looked over at Lando who was already staring at you and you spoke to the table as you looked right at him, “Even willing to stay late some nights…get some extra work done.” 
“Anything for you.” Lando whispered. 
You sent him a little wink.
“Hopefully it’s enjoyable work.” Charles pressed. 
“Never done anything better.” Lando answered smoothly. 
“Yeah, because you’ve never done anything before.” George dissed. 
The table filled with laughter and Lando only rolled his eyes, suppressing the desire to throw George’s virginity back in his face like always. He wanted to be good for you. 
Alex held out a fake microphone to Lando at his side, “No rebuttal?”
Lando leaned towards nothing in his hand, “Nope. I’m being the bigger man.”
“Yeah, you are.” you said in a little sing-song voice, earning teasing laughter from your friends and a furious blush from Lando who still managed to smile at you despite your words. Only you knew the boundaries enough to push them. 
A clatter from across the table tore your attention away from Lando’s longing stare to Charles and Max’s slight worry as he tended to his shirt with his napkin. 
“Oh no…I’m so sorry, schatje.” Max cooed, “Come on, I’ll sort you out.”
With nothing less than a grin, Charles took his hand as he stood up and Max helped him to his feet. Charles’ barely visible spill on the front of his shirt peaked your brow as you sipped your wine and watched them walk off hand in hand towards the bathroom. 
Lily tutted with a light laugh, “Typical.”
Lando looked between her and you, his expression stagnant. 
You only rolled your eyes with a knowing smile and set your glass back on the table so you could lean towards him to whisper, “They’re going to get each other off in the bathroom.”
His eyes widened and he stared off in the direction that they had disappeared in and then he looked back at you as you finished your meal. Your short tight dress and gentle smile had him craving to touch you all night and your friends’ obvious displays of affection were doing nothing to help calm his feelings. Their sneak-off only felt to be the weight on his chest moreso. 
Lando poured you both another glass of wine. 
He didn’t mean to time them, but Lando checked his phone once he saw Charles and Max heading back towards the table through the tightly seated restaurant, his heart only aching at the fifteen minutes that had passed and how much he knew he could do to you in that time. He couldn’t help himself but slide his hand under the table to rest over your lap and you scooted your chair closer to the edge so he was hidden by the tablecloth. 
Lando took that as your permission and he inched up the hem of your dress ever so slowly as your group was completed again and you greeted your once missing friends casually. Oscar and Lily exchanged little knowing smirks from across the table and the waiter began to clear the empty dishes. Lando tried to look casual but he couldn’t not look at you and he slipped his hand up your short dress and slid them between your snug thighs to feel your lacey panties nestled warmly there. He wanted to take you to the bathroom next. 
But instead, you discreetly nudged his hand away and he was forced to return to his solitude at a table full of partners. He was forced to watch as Charles and Max fed each other spoonfuls of dessert and as Alex and Lily spoke excitedly about their shared interests and as George and Oscar were in lighthearted friendly discussion about the last Formula 1 race weekend. Lando was so damn antsy. 
Once everyone had finished their dessert, you paid the bill in full and everyone got up to head out to their cars. Lily and Alex led the group in their own little world of two, with you and Charles and Oscar and George pulling second in some deep conversation Lando wasn’t listening to. He took his time gathering his things and followed after you, trying not to stare at the way your dress hugged your ass with each step in your heels. 
The presence of someone at his side startled him slightly and he looked over to see Max standing beside him. Only an inch or so taller than him, Max smiled at him and walked alongside him at the back of your group towards the Monte Carlo evening. 
“So, how are you really doing?” Max asked.
“Oh…I’m fine.” Lando answered politely, unable to even really meet his eye with how unbelievably intimidating this man was. 
“Really? You seemed kind of on edge all night.” Max mentioned, sliding his hands in the pocket of his fitted dress slacks.
Lando just shrugged, “Nah, it’s nothing. Just hard that we can’t be as mushy as you and Charles when we’re out.”
Max smiled as if he already knew that was going to be the answer, “I get that. Having a job in the public eye isn’t easy. She must really like you if she’s risking so much to stick with you…even when it’s hard to keep it under wraps.” 
“I guess.” 
They stepped out onto the sidewalk with the rest of your group and you all kept in your little sections to finish up your individual conversations before you would all have to go your separate ways. Max stuck with Lando to the side, offering him insight from his own experience that his best friends couldn’t offer him. 
“Charles and I started a similar way.” Max explained quietly, “I was so paranoid of how my followers would see me and how the press would react…it took a while to feel comfortable with myself to be able to take it public. It’s nothing personal so don’t think she’s ashamed of you. Believe me, I know her well, she talks about you more often than she doesn’t.”
As he listened to the advice, Lando let his gaze drift the few paces away to where you stood and you glanced back at him to share a little warm smile before turning back to your friends and your loud, boisterous conversation. You sparkled in the street light under the city-polluted starry sky. Lando looked back to Max.
“Thanks, mate.” he mumbled, “I just really, really like her. I might even love her, y’know?”
Max smirked knowingly, tilting his head slightly to stare down his nose at Lando, waiting for him to go on. 
“And I just wanna be able to show her.”
“It’s not all about public displays.” Max explained, “You can show her that you love her in so many other ways. And when the time is right, it will happen. But you don’t need it. You two still looked like the cutest couple in the whole damn restaurant without even trying.”
Lando nodded and there was a pause between them. Then, he added, just to cover his bases, “And please don’t tell her that I told you that I love her. I haven’t exactly told her yet.” 
“She knows.” Max said. “The way you look at her? She’s got to know.”
From a few paces away, right on time, you called out, “Lando!” 
He turned over his shoulder to you, spotting you bathed in the light of the restaurant entrance and the smile you wore was just as beautiful as your dress. You waved him over, ready to go.
He grinned right back, “Coming!”
Lando turned to Max once more who gave him a pat on the shoulder and one last knowing smile before saying, “Now go get her.”
“Thanks.” Lando exhaled giddily, refueled with energy after the little motivational speech from his newly acquainted. He called his goodnights to the rest of your group of friends as Charles returned to Max’s side, and then he was hurrying after you towards your car. 
You were climbing into the driver's seat of your Mercedes when Lando joined you and he helped himself to the passenger side. The doors were shut behind you and the world fell to silence as the outdoors was muffled slightly and you breathed a sigh of relief of being back to just the two of you and away from the prying public in the restaurant. 
“Did you have a good evening?” you asked him as you turned your key in the ignition. 
“Yeah. Dinner was amazing. Thank you.” he answered easily. 
You turned on the air conditioning faintly to cut the heat from the Monaco summer that raged around you but you left your car in park. You looked over at him, “You seemed quiet tonight, is everything okay?”
Lando just smiled at you and your concern and he nodded, “Yes. I’m fine.”
You hesitated a moment as if not believing him but you passed it off, knowing he would come to you if he needed, “Okay.” 
“How was your talk with Pierre?” Lando asked, his curiosity getting the better of him and overpowering the craving he felt for you. 
You smiled over at him, “It went so well.”
“Yeah?” Lando’s heart raced with hopefulness. 
“Yeah. He said he’s happy for us…said he’s glad I found someone who can keep up with me.”
Lando held his hand out to you under the line of the dashboard, “Always.” 
You rested your hand in his and your fingers intertwined. 
“I feel lighter now that I told him.” you confessed. “I think it was really eating at me. I don’t know why. Maybe now it just proves that he is past…and you are my present.” 
“And your future hopefully.” Lando breathed. 
You gave his hand a squeeze, “Yes.” 
“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night since the second I saw you…now only moreso.” 
“Yeah?” you let a small smile come to your face and he watched how you licked your red painted lips through the hazy warm light that dusted your silhouettes in the night air. 
“Hated watching Charles and his boyfriend like that all evening when I couldn’t do the same with you.” he whispered. 
“I know.” you agreed quietly, “And not even just the little things…I kinda wanted to sneak off with you too. Is that weird?”
“Not weird at all.” Lando shook his head easily, “I did too.”
You giggled softly, keeping your gazes locked and your hands in each other’s on your lap, and you lifted your head from where it had been resting against the driver's seat and you shifted slightly so your body was turned more towards his. There were a few seconds of silence between you where you just stared at each other with calm and content smiles on your lips and his thumb rubbed over your knuckles. 
“You called me ‘sweetheart’.” you said softly. 
“You are my sweetheart.” he replied just as gently. 
“I like when you call me that.” you admitted, keeping the hushed voice between you even if it were only the two of you around in the security of your car. “It’s cute…makes me all blushy.” 
“Mhm?” he raised his free hand up to stroke the back of his finger over your warm cheek and he tucked your hair behind your ear. 
You smiled at him and shuffled slightly to lean towards him a bit more, letting him trace the features of your face with a gentle touch. He knew you like the back of his hand - he was infatuated with you after all - but he lingered on every inch of you like he had to memorize you all over again. Your skin was warm from the alcohol and your strong feelings, and your eyes fluttered shut peacefully, wholeheartedly trusting of him. 
“I want to kiss you.” you breathed, a common sentence between you since the moment he landed in Monaco at the beginning of the summer. It acted as a placeholder for dozens upon dozens of kisses that could not be completed due to your public standing. 
“I always want to kiss you.” Lando answered, dropping his hand from your face as he leaned against his seat, the both of you facing towards each other in the front seat. 
You pondered a moment before speaking quietly, “Kiss me.”
Lando chuckled, “Take me home then.”
“Kiss me now.” you ordered. 
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed for a second and he glanced out the dashboard to the half full restaurant parking lot that you were in the middle of, the only sign of life being Oscar, Lily, Alex, and George in the distance, still lingering by the front doors of the restaurant together. He looked back at you. Your eyes were open and you were staring at him. 
“Kiss me, Lando.” you repeated. 
“Are you sure?” he asked, his heart hammering in his chest. 
“Yes. Come on. Please?” you reached out a hand to rest against his chest, fingers grasping onto the front of his black t-shirt. “Kiss me.” 
He raised his hand back to your face, cradling your jaw in his hand as he moved in smoothly and pressed his lips to yours before you could change your mind. You hummed happily against his mouth as you shared a few single lingering kisses before you were parting his lips with your own and tugging at his shirt to get him closer. He leaned half over the centre console and you did the same, pushing your tongue against his between deep sensual kisses that filled his cravings so perfectly. 
He could taste the rich red wine on your tongue and your lips and he held your head close to linger on the flavour, sucking gently on your bottom lip until you moaned into his mouth and tangled your hand in the back of his hair. Tilting his head to the opposite side, he guided you to follow him and your fingers that were laced with his still on your lap only gave his hand a little squeeze to share your appreciation with how he took control. So much had changed in a few short months. 
“Lando…” you breathed between kisses, your words swallowed up by his lips once more. 
“Sweetheart.” he replied back, knowing exactly what he was doing with a smile to his tone of sweet buttery voice. 
The way you inhaled shakily into his kiss had him chuckling lowly between wet kisses, his thumb drifting around your throat to choke you slightly - just how you liked it - as he took the breath from your lungs. Maybe it was the faint alcohol in your system or maybe it was the wholehearted hold he had on your heart but you were dizzy. With your fingers pressing into the back of his neck, you shoved your tongue into his mouth desperately, your heart racing on the riskiness of your steamy late night makeout and Lando’s hand tightened around your throat. 
“Oh my God, I missed you.” you whimpered against his mouth, even though it had only been a day since you had seen each other. 
“I missed you so much.” Lando replied breathily. 
You moaned happily against his kiss and let him lick his way into your mouth until your kisses were growing faster, more desperate, and you were absolutely burning for him. You could have ripped his clothes off right then and there in the front seat of your car. 
A snap of blinding light startled you out of your lust-filled trance and a quick second one had you pulling away from his lips in slightly confusion, only to be bombarded with a wave of camera flashes and shutters through the glare of your windshield. Lando didn’t know what was happening at first - for a second he swore he was seeing the gates of heaven - but your sudden panic solved any of his confusion. 
Your hand tore from his and you ducked yourself behind your steering wheel, “Fuck! Oh my God!” 
Lando stared out the windshield, squinting in the floods of lights and shouts, until you grabbed the chain around his neck and yanked him down with you to hide behind the dashboard the best you could. The panic in your face was terrifying and he simply stared dumbly at you, not knowing what to do or say. 
You fumbled with your purse as there were knocks at your window and cameras pressed against the glass and you struggled to pull out your phone. But Oscar - who was thankfully still on site across the parking lot - had already seen what was going on. It was hard to miss. 
He wasn’t an overly confrontational person but he took his job seriously and when part of his job called for protecting you and your image? You best bet he was on it. 
George, Lily, and Alex had to nearly run to keep up with his quick pace across the parking lot to the crowd of paparazzi that had seemed to come out of nowhere and swarm your car. Shouting questions at you as the flashes of their cameras blinded you, the group wasn’t overly large but enough to overwhelm you and you kept Lando ducked down until the cameras slowed and Oscar was at your window. The moment you rolled it down, questions were shouted at you again (“Whos that?” “Where’s Pierre?” “Are you cheating on your boyfriend?”) but you were only focused on Oscar who leaned into your car with Lily right at his side - and Alex and George acting like their personal shields the best they could. Lando met his friends’ gaze and they didn’t know what to do. 
“Back out of here.” Oscar told you firmly. “Just drive, okay? Text me when you get home. Go.” 
You nodded and rolled up your window, keeping yourself ducked down the best you could as you shifted your car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot as smoothly as you could, your engine roaring loudly as you nearly floored it out of the lot and onto the street. Lando peered out the window at the disappearing parking lot and Alex and George standing helpless with furious Oscar and Lily who were cursing off the paparazzi. 
He turned forward in his seat again, staring wide-eyed out the front window. Did that really happen? Neither of you spoke a word the whole way back to your house. Lando certainly didn’t want to make the first move since the pale colouration of your grief stricken face was enough to stun him into complete silence. 
In fact, no words were spoken until you were safely in your apartment. Lando had to nearly run after you as you stalked out of the car and into the elevator and then through your front door, tossing the keys on the kitchen island on your way in. Lando shut the front door behind you both. 
“I-” he started.
“I’m fucked.” you cut him off, turning back to him as you pushed an emotional hand through your hair. You were trembling. “I’m so fucked!” 
“Baby-”
Pacing the floor, you could hardly breathe and your shaking hands were tugging at the roots of your hair, rambling anxiously to him as your voice quivered with emotion, “I could I be so stupid? I’ve been so careful for years to protect my image…my career…I shouldn’t have had so much wine tonight. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. They had a clear fucking view. That’s going to be everywhere tomorrow morning. There’s going to be a picture of your tongue in my mouth on the international fucking news tomorrow morning…I’m so dead.” 
Lando didn’t even know what to say to comfort you so he offered the only thing he could think of to say, “I’m sorry.”
You stood in front of him and took a shaky breath before letting it out with a flat, “It’s not your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I asked you to.”
“So? I still shouldn’t have done it.”
You held your face in your hands, crying out a weak, “Oh, God, Lando.” 
“It’s okay.” Lando moved closer and wrapped you up in his arms, “It’s going to be okay.”
He didn’t dare tell you the slight selfish excitement that thudded in his chest that maybe this was the chance that he would be able to go public with you. Maybe it wasn’t ideal if you were forced out but it might have been the push you needed. You sniffed back your forming tears and let your arms snake around his waist, tucking your face in his neck as he rubbed your back to try and ease your stresses. 
“I’m gonna be in so much trouble.” you mumbled. 
“From who?”
“My management team…PR…all of them. I’m going to have to make a statement and somehow cover this up.” you pulled away from him as the anxieties rose again in your chest. “Oh God.” 
“Just breathe for a second, sweetheart.” Lando whispered, taking your hand, “What good is it going to do to just stress out before anything-”
Your phone rang from your purse and you hurried to pull it out, answering it right away as you saw Oscar’s name on the screen and you put it on speaker, “Hello?”
“Hey. Did you get home?” he asked. 
“Yeah, sorry. Just a few seconds ago. I’m kinda flipping my shit.” you answered, rubbing your temples tiredly. 
“Don’t. I got them to delete it.”
Your entire expression changed and you and Lando shared wide glances. You looked back to your phone, “What?”
“Yeah. Lily and I made them delete the pictures in front of us. They’re gone. You’re good.”
“Oh, Osc.” you whimpered, slumping onto one of the kitchen island stools, “Fuck, mate, I could kiss you.”
“I think enough kissing has been done tonight.” he laughed softly, trying to lighten the situation. 
Lando smiled slightly. 
“I owe you one.” you said.
Osacr tisked, “No way. It’s just my job. And you’re my best friend.”
“I wonder how they knew we were there.” you wondered aloud. 
Lando scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor, mumbling quietly, “Maybe Pierre tipped them off for a revenge plot.” 
You nudged him playfully, “Pierre would not tip them off.”
“No way.” Oscar added through the phone. “This was probably just a fluke. It’s a popular place.”
“True.” you sighed. 
“You okay?” Oscar asked. 
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Get some rest, okay?”
“You too. You did good work, Osc.” 
“Thanks.” 
There was a muffled voice in the background through the phone. 
Oscar spoke again, “Oh and Alex and George want to know if Lando’s coming back to the hotel tonight.”
You and Lando looked at each other but he waited to let you answer since it was your house after all. You answered them without taking your eyes off him, “No. I’m keeping him tonight. I’m gonna need serious de-stress cuddles after this little event.”
Oscar passed on the message and as he did so, Lando stepped closer to you and brushed his fingers through your hair, letting you lean forward to rest your cheek against his chest. You said your good nights to your friends and then your phone was turned off, leaving you and Lando alone. 
Wrapping your arms around his middle, you let out a deep breath to let your tension melt away and you shut your eyes tightly to just hold onto him a little longer. Lando scratched his fingers gently through your hair and his other hand rubbed over your back and shoulders, letting you take as long as you needed right there. 
“Feeling better?” Lando asked you quietly. 
You nodded against his body. 
“Want me to help you get into bed?”
You sniffled and held him a little tighter around the waist, “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” he chuckled, “You have me all night, remember?”
“No, I mean I don’t want you to go home. To England.”
Lando had been trying not to think about it as the summer was approaching its end and that meant he was soon to return to his rainy home country and leave sunny Monaco behind. Leave you behind. He had only three weeks left. 
“I have a whole three weeks left.” he said, trying his best to comfort you. Your sadness over the idea of him leaving was slightly comforting, feeling validated that you cared about him just as much as he cared about you. 
“Too short.” you mumbled. 
“Let’s not think about that right now.” 
“Okay.”
He brushed your hair over your shoulders and down your back, petting your head gently. You held him tightly and buried your face in his chest. 
The ‘I love you’ was frozen on his tongue. 
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As you had anticipated, the three weeks nearly flew by. Alex and George went home only one day after your group dinner, leaving Lando to face the remainder of his stay alone again. But he wasn’t totally alone since he spent almost every day with you. The last week was a little touch and go as you kept putting off your after-work plans without much of an explanation and Lando was starting to feel a little worried that he was going to have to face his last week mostly alone. The girls didn’t seem to offer him much comfort, only shrugging and assuring him that you had deadlines to meet and those waited for no one. 
But his last day he spent with you, ordering food together on Friday night and eating in your bed while watching a movie before cuddling the night away. You didn’t eat much that night and it was apparent that his impending departure was weighing on you, he was sure. Even still, you didn’t leave his side and you slept cuddled up in his arms well into Saturday morning. Well, to him you slept soundly. In reality, you were awake most of the night, just listening to his heartbeat and his breaths and the thoughts swirling in your mind. 
His flight was in mid-afternoon so it gave you some time to wake up in the morning and stop at a café for breakfast before returning to his hotel to gather the last of his things. You were quiet on the drive across the city and Lando held your hand as you drove. Your teeth were stuck in your bottom lip as if they were permanently meant to be there. He gave your hand a squeeze. 
In his hotel room, you sat on the end of the second bed that had been George and Alex’s for only a week while you watched Lando pack up his things. Time was ticking and Lando’s dread was only rising with the minutes that passed. He didn’t want to leave you but part of him was also stressed about missing his flight. He was lingering in this weird emotional purgatory. In all honesty, he didn’t want to face an emotional goodbye with you that would inevitably make him cry. So he tried not to think about it - he didn’t even want to look at you as you sat there quietly and let him pack - and he busied himself. 
“Lan?” you called softly, your voice faint. 
He didn’t answer, tucking his socks and underwear in his suitcase.
“Lando?” you tried again, a little louder. 
“I know, I should put the bigger things in first.” he said, turning back to the dresser to open the next drawer down and take out his stack of jeans and pants. “I’m just going drawer by drawer…I don’t totally care.”
“Lando, can I-”
“I don’t think I should have bought so many clothes here…I don’t know how they’re all going to fit in this suitcase under fifty pounds.” he rambled, starting to empty out all the drawers onto the bed first to see what he was dealing with. 
You stayed sitting on the opposite bed. He didn’t look at you because he could already feel himself getting a little choked up.
He moved to the closet and opened the doors to take his few things off the hangers, “Maybe I should wear layers? Or leave my underwear and socks behind…those are cheap. Mom can buy me new ones. I guess that’s the good thing of still living at home, right?”
He didn’t wait for an answer as he returned to his bed and started to messily shove things inside. You didn’t have an answer to give him. You stayed quiet for a few seconds, just watching him pack ungracefully. 
Lando tried to fold things as small as he could get them but he was emotional and his mind was muddled and he ended up just jamming stuff wherever it fit. He huffed. 
You stood from the end of the opposite bed, “Lando, please, can I just-”
He walked away quickly and into the bathroom, “I need my wash stuff.” 
You lingered where you stood in the centre of the room and that’s where you were when he returned, glancing at you for a brief second before he was shoving his zipped up toiletry kit into his suitcase too. He didn’t look at you long enough to see how you were wringing your hands together. 
“Razor…toothbrush…hairbrush…” Lando muttered to himself, “Maybe I should snag some of the hotel’s free sample things.”
He hurried back into the bathroom. On his way back out, you tried again. 
“Please, can I just say one thing?”
“Is it silly to bring the hotel soaps home?” he asked, shoving them in his suitcase anyway, “They’re kinda cute…shaped like little leaves.” 
“Lando.” you said strongly. 
“Oh, I need my chargers.” 
He passed by you again. 
“Lando.” you strained. 
“I think my passport is in the safe with my laptop. Can’t forget those.” 
“Lando.” your voice broke slightly. 
He stuffed his laptop and his chargers into his backpack, struggling with how his hands were shaking, “I didn’t know I had so much stuff. Monte Carlo makes a guy materialistic, huh?”
Emotionally, you crumpled to the ground in frustration, knees to your chest, crying out in defeat, “Lando, please.” 
Your sudden drop had him turning right to you, startled by the way you just burst into tears on the floor, your face in your palms as you completely sobbed. He dropped whatever he was holding and knelt in front of you quickly and pulled your hands from your face to guide you into a hug, making you hold onto him as you cried. 
“Baby.” he cooed, rubbing your back, struggling to hold back his own tears, “Don’t cry.”
“Just stop packing for a second.” you said softly, your voice quivering. 
“Okay. I’m here.” Lando promised. “I’m here.” 
“I need to talk to you.” you mumbled against his shoulder. 
“You had all night to talk to me.” he chuckled, leaning back slightly so you could move out of your embrace and he could look at your face properly. 
“I was going to tell you something last night but I got scared…I was going to tell you five days ago but I put it off and now it’s last minute and…God, I’m such a pussy.” you tisked, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. 
Lando gently took your wrists and guided your hands away so he could hold them in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles, “No, you’re not. What is it?”
Your bottom lip trembled as you looked at him, your vision blurred with tears, and he tried so desperately to read your expression, trying not to psych himself out that you were ending things with him or any other worst case scenario that could have been playing on your mind. Your mouth tried to form words but no sound came out minus a little squeak of anxiety that had Lando chuckling nervously. 
“What is it, you muppet?” he encouraged you sweetly, “You can tell me anything.”
You sniffled and silent tears trailed down your cheeks, unable to compose yourself enough to say what you needed to say. 
Trying to keep it light for your sake, he bounced your joined hands against your thighs gently, “What? Are you pregnant or something?”
The way your breath caught in your throat and your entire body tensed up had his lighthearted smile faltering for a second. You tore your gaze from his and looked to your lap almost shamefully. Neither of you moved for a moment.
“You’re…not…are you?” Lando asked hesitantly. 
A fresh wave of tears came over you and you slumped against the front of the dresser on the floor, tearing your hands from his to hold your face in your palms as you cried. 
Lando breathed our name, his eyes as wide as saucers and his face as white as paper, “Don’t play with me right now. Are you serious?”
You nodded into your hands. 
“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, “For real? Like…confirmed?” 
You sniffled and pulled your phone from your pocket and he waited impatiently as you opened your photos app and then passed it over to him to see. The picture on the screen was of your bathroom counter with three positive pregnancy tests in a row in the centre. Lando blinked. He zoomed in. The three pairs of pink lines were clear as day. He blinked again. Was this real?
“Is this real?”
You nodded into your hands, almost scared to look at him. 
“I-” Lando stared at the picture for a second longer and then looked at you, “Are you…What are you going to do?”
You sniffled and dropped your hands to your lap between your bent knees, “I cannot have a kid right now.”
Lando's heart stopped at that statement. It was ultimately your decision but he did not want to lose his chance at having a little family with you. He waited for you to continue. 
“But I can’t get rid of it.” you mumbled. “I don’t want…I can’t do that.”
“That’s okay.” Lando breathed. 
He honestly felt dizzy - like the entire situation was a dream. Your voice sounded a little echoey and he pinched his thigh to bring himself back to his true reality, trying to focus on your obviously distraught expression. 
“I’m scared.” you admitted softly, your trembling voice barely audible. 
“Hey,” Lando scooted closer to you to sit at your side against the dresser and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you in towards him, pressing a kiss to your temple, “No reason to be scared. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
You nodded and leaned your head against his and his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together lovingly. His other hand still held your phone with the picture on the screen and he couldn’t stop staring at it in complete disbelief. 
“You are going somewhere. You’re going home.” you mumbled. 
Lando’s heart sank, “Yeah…” 
“I don’t even know what we are.” you whispered. “This whole time…I don’t know what we are. Are we just fuck buddies or…are we, like, something more…?”
Lando stared down at your intertwined hands, having so much information thrown at him in the span of a few moments that his mind was whirling. His momentary silence had you slightly panicked.
You spoke again as if to pitch your case, “Because I really have been feeling like both of us have wanted more but I didn’t want to step out of line or scare you or anything by asking…in case you didn’t feel the same…but part of me always thought that maybe you did and I was just being silly and-”
Lando raised his hand to press his finger against your jaw and turned your face towards his, capturing your lips with his to shut you up with a kiss. You instantly melted into him and your soft sigh as he finally pulled away from your few chasté kisses was almost enough to ease his own consciousness. 
“I’ve wanted all of you since the moment I knew your name.” he promised. “I want as much as you’re willing to give me…whatever you want to be. You hold the cards.” 
“I just want you.” you confessed, holding his hand in both of yours as you leaned into him adoringly, “I want to really be yours. For real.” 
Lando licked his lips as he stared at you, feeling as though he were treading in dangerous waters and pressing his luck, “So…do you want to be my girlfriend?”
You bit back your grin at his shy question, “Well you already got me pregnant so it would be a bit dumb of me to say no.” 
“Oh my God.” Lando breathed. His words were punctuated by your lips pressing against his again and you shared a few quick kisses. Reality seemed to settle around him and he tilted his head back to break your kiss, huffing out almost panicky to the ceiling, “You’re pregnant.”
“Yeah.” you mumbled. 
Lando pressed his finger against his chest, “You’re having my baby? Mine?”
“Yeah. I told you…there was no one else.” 
Lando’s eyes were as wide as saucers and he stared at you dumbly, unblinking, his index finger still pressed against his chest. 
You sighed, “I know this isn’t ideal…I’m so busy and you’re still in school getting your degree and we don’t even live in the same country. I get it if you just kinda wanna do your own thing. I don’t need money from you or anything.”
“Hey, no.” Lando grabbed your hands again, “Don’t even say that. I want to be a part of this with you. More than anything, okay? More than anything.” 
“You sure?” you pouted, “Because I really don’t want you to think that I’m trapping you in a life that you don’t want.”
“Life that I don’t want?” Lando gaped, “Holy shit, baby, I’ve dreamt about having a family with you since the second I hit that ‘follow’ button on Instagram, are you kidding?”
“Oh my God, really?” you laughed wetly at his confession, sniffling back your tears. 
“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” he swore and shifted onto his knees to pull you into a hug again, “Not even if you forced me.”
Your arms wrapped easily around his shoulders and you dipped your face into his neck, letting him feel the warmth of your body with his on the hotel room floor. He could feel your heavy heartbeat through your chest and against his own and he gently caressed your hair and breathed you in, the smell of you that grew so familiar over the summer. The news was dream-like and he was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around it but holding you in his arms just made it feel so easy and so right. 
He had to say it. 
“I love you.” 
Your arms tightened around him and your fingers clutched the back of his shirt as you let out a small sob into his neck, “Oh God…I love you.” 
Lando shut his eyes tightly and choked back his own wave of tears, your voice saying that simple sentence to him meaning more to him than you would ever know. 
“That’s so scary.” you sniffed quietly after a moment.
He sat back slightly so he could look at you and he brushed your hair from your face, “What is?”
You shrugged, looking down at your lap where you were picking at your nails, “Love? I dunno…it sounds silly.” 
“It’s not silly.” Lando assured you easily, “It’s a lot to trust someone with. But I love you for trusting me.” 
You cracked a small smile and he tilted your chin up again so he could press a damp kiss to your lips through your shared emotions. 
“And even more because you’re having my baby.” he whispered, almost disbelieving, but he bit back his excited grin as he spoke the words he once only dreamt of. 
“Yeah.” you smiled sweetly and slid your hands into his. 
Sitting in front of each other on the hotel room floor, you shared a few single kisses through your slowing tears, perfectly innocent and soft that it flooded your hearts with warmth. Lando was over the moon and his hands stayed in yours so tenderly like he never wanted to let you go. 
Finally, you pulled away with a soft gasp and then a quiet groan of, “Fuck, I can’t drink wine anymore.”
Lando laughed lightly and he lifted his hands from yours to wipe your tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, “No, you can’t.”
You dramatically rested your forehead against his shoulder. 
He rubbed your back, “Only normal grape juice for the next little while now.”
Proper goodbyes were shared before leaving the hotel room together to linger on that last moment of privacy before the public eye would be on you again. Lando partially wished that you had told him sooner because having to leave within the same hour that you told him you were pregnant was almost unbearable. He had always loved you but now it only felt overwhelmingly more and he was having a hard time letting go. Lando promised to call you every night and text often and you promised to FaceTime him during the first doctor's visit which had him crying into your shoulder with how much he just didn't want to leave.
But he had to, and soon he had said an all too quiet goodbye at the airport to you and was sitting at his gate waiting for boarding. Life felt surreal as he sat there among strangers who didn’t know him, didn’t know his story, and didn’t know that you were going to make him a father. He was overwhelmed but he was bursting with glee. 
Before he was told to turn off his phone for the flight, he opened one last app to do one final thing. His group chat was quiet that afternoon but Lando was about to change that. 
landonorris: Hey guys georgerussell63: Lando!!! Hey! alex_albon: Hiii alex_albon: You back in Bristol yet?? landonorris: Waiting at my gate landonorris: Listen… alex_albon: Listening  georgerussell63: Oh no landonorris: I got some news today georgerussell63: Is everything okay?? landonorris: Yeah. It’s great landonorris: I have a girlfriend alex_albon: WHAT georgerussell63: AHHH Like for real??? alex_albon: ITS OFFICIAL???? georgerussell63: OMFGGGKTKJTNGJKT landonorris: Yeah!! As of today landonorris: I still can’t believe it landonorris: But that’s not all georgerussell63: The way I went from celebrating to scared again gave me whiplash alex_albon: Same wtf Lan what is it alex_albon: Just send us one of your classic long paragraphs with everything in it what with the suspense  georgerussell63: Lando TELL US landonorris: Well you know how she has been my dream girl for so long right? alex_albon: Duh georgerussell63: Yeesss landonorris: I’ve been basically living the dream because of that this whole summer landonorris: But I guess there was one thing missing that would really complete the ideal universe concept for me landonorris: And I didn’t really think about it too much because it didn’t feel attainable really landonorris: But I guess it wasn’t impossible… landonorris: Because it happened and she told me today... landonorris: We’re having a baby
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zipper-ghost · 6 months
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Based on a fic I'm working on where Kim and Harry have to go undercover at a gay club
Read the fic on ao3
(lines in bold are Harry’s skills talking. I haven't specified but you can guess)
A chill wind whips their faces as they step onto the precinct roof. They huddle together, facing each other, Harry’s broad body blocking the wind which would snuff out the lighter flame. Kim lit his cigarette and then lit Harry’s. Harry recently switched from Menthols to Kim’s brand of chestnut-flavored cigarettes. Kim hasn’t asked about it even though he noticed.
As the smoke fills his lungs Kim’s whole body visibly relaxes. A softness falls across his expression, his gaze grows distant. You don’t know if it’s the ritual of smoking at the end of the day or the nicotine. The smoldering end of the cigarette is reflected in Kim’s glasses, as are you. They lean against the railing and watch the sunset over the horizon in silence. Harry waits for Kim to start. 
The jingling of Kim unzipping his jacket makes Harry stand a bit straighter and bite the filter for his cigarette. 
“Shall we start?” Kim says taking out his notebook and flipping it open. 
You nod, trying not to linger on Kim’s now exposed collarbone. 
“How do you think the investigation is going?”
“Bad.”
“Kmn, we seem to have hit a dead end. Even though we’ve made contact with the suspect the name he has been using in the club scene seems to be an alias. And his tattoo doesn’t seem to be related to any known gang or criminal organization. We are still waiting for the lab to get back to us about the particular strain of hallucinogen that was in the victim’s system.” 
“It’s worrying…”
“What is?”
“Well, the drug the victim overdosed on- it’s not something we’ve come across before. There is a chance that there will be more overdoses like this.”
“We can look into who the suspect’s supplier might be.”
“He might not have a supplier here.”
Kim glances at Harry. “Why do you say that?”
“The suspect is Seraise. They said he was bragging about being an aerostatic pilot on leave. Maybe he brought the drugs from the Safre empire, would that be possible to find out?”
“I can look into it.” 
For a moment it is silent except for the sound of Kim’s pen on paper. A motor carriage speeds across the street below. Sodium street lights are switched on as the sky grows darker and stars begin to appear one by one. 
“How long do you think we have until he returns to Safre?”
Kim taps the page with the back of his pen. “It’s hard to tell. He has been here awhile, might be any day now.” 
“He probably won’t come to that club anymore,” Harry adds.
Kim’s eyes crinkle. He is smiling though only you would notice. 
“No,” Kim says, “not after you scared him off.”
“I didn’t scare- I am perfectly capable of flirting.”
“Sure, you are,” Kim replies around his cigarette, his flat words dripping with sarcasm. 
“I am! I was just not his type is all. He must be into twinkles-”
“Twinks,” Kim corrects. “Like our victim.”
“Hm.” Harry exhales a plume of white smoke that dissolves into the night. 
“So Kim, what’s your type? Twinks, bears, otters, cubs, tigers, rabbits?”
Kim’s face remains unreadable but his shoulders tense, the pages of his notebook crinkle under his grip. 
He answers after a brief but notable pause. “I don’t have a type. And you made up the last few at the end.”
“Everyone has a type! Are you saying you have no preferences when it comes to who you find attractive?”
“I’m more interested in personalities.”
“You’re such a fucking liar. Come on Kim.”
“Enough detective. We are still in the middle of our briefing and this is irrelevant to-”
“This is relevant to the case,” Harry insists. 
“Fine,” Kim says begrudgingly. “If I had to describe it, it’s say my taste in men is … questionable.”
“Questionable? What does that mean?”
“It means I’m attracted to men who are bad for me or impossibly out of reach. Now if you are satisfied can we get back to the case?”
Harry smiles. If you are smart about it, you could get more information from Kim. “Well your answer was kind of a cop-out but I’ll let it go for now.”
Kim furrows his brow at Harry, a look that says ‘Don’t you dare.’
You feel your knees buckle under the force of Kim’s glare. You grab the railing with one hand. 
“Aren’t you going to ask me about my type?”
“I don’t have to. I already know.”
“What? How do you already know?”
Kim turns back to his notebook and pretends to read. “Because it is obvious. You like them young, waifish, and pretty. Someone mysterious and fragile, someone who you can save.”
Someone to be your redemption. 
“That- that's not true- not everyone that-” Harry stutters. Kim’s blatant description of Dora throws you off kilter. Talking about her is taboo. Even though Kim knows about her and what she did to you he had never brought it up. He knows you still have nightmares of her. 
“Well, just in Martinaise there was Klaasje, Lilienne, the smoker on the balcony, and-”
“Wait- the smoker on the balcony?”
Kim raises an eyebrow. “You were smitten. You went on and on about him, ‘he is such a good listener, I felt heard when I talked to him. He smelled so good, how can someone smell so good?” Kim covers his mouth to hide his condescending grin. 
A formless darkness claws inside you. It feels terrible to be judged, to be teased, but you can’t quite put into words what you are feeling, or why
“You sound jealous,” Harry snaps back. 
Kim sighs. “I’m not jealous. I’m a detective and I notice patterns of behaviour.”
“Well you're plain wrong in this case. You’re not like that-”
“I’m not like what?” 
“Like…” Harry’s breath stutters in his chest. Kim isn’t like Dora or Klaasje or Lilienne or the smoker on the balcony. He isn’t like them and still…
You look at Kim’s cigarette and feel a pang of jealousy. You wish to be that cigarette cradled between his lips. You want to burn into ash, you want to be the bitterness on Kim’s tongue. You want to be the smoke filling his lungs, the nicotine flooding his bloodstream. You want to be Kim’s addiction, you want to be part of him, deep and inextricable. 
“I…” A tidal wave of desire crashes through you but you can’t say the words.
Kim snaps his notebook close. “I guess we’ve reached the end of the briefing. Our conversation is no longer productive.” He tosses his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and crushes the lit ember beneath the heel of his boot. 
His face is unreadable as usual but Kim is upset. 
Damn it. You’ve fucked up Harry. 
Harry follows Kim down the stairs from the roof. 
“I’m sorry Kim, I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“I’m not angry Officer. It’s late and we won’t any more progress today, you should go home early.”
He is lying, if he isn’t mad he wouldn’t call you ‘officer’
407 notes · View notes
justlemmeadoreyou · 4 months
Text
4. heat of the kitchen (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)
(part 1 here) | (part 2 here) | (part 3 here)
summary: the day of the gala, but something unexpected happens, leaving you a responsibility that could either make or break your career.
words: 5k
warnings: fluff, a hint of angst.
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You had just started falling into a restless sleep when your phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, making you jump awake in surprise. Squinting your blurry eyes at the bright screen, you felt a prickle of worry when you saw the time - 4:17am. This couldn't be good news at this hour. 
Sure enough, it was Harry's number flashing on the caller ID. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you swiped to answer and brought the phone to your ear. "Hello?"
"[Y/N], hey..." Even through the tinny distortion of the phone line, you could hear the grimness and exhaustion in Harry's voice. "Look, I...there's been an emergency with my family back home. My mom is really sick and not doing well."
You sat up straight in bed now, any remaining grogginess from sleep instantly swept away by a crushing wave of dismay. You listened in silence as he explained in brief phrases about needing to get on the next available flight to go back to New York right away. He said he wasn't sure when he'd be able to return to Chicago.
"I just didn't have a chance to let you know about this earlier," Harry's low, raspy voice crackled with regret. "I've already spoken with Thomason to take over running things at the event today, but...I'm so sorry, [Y/N]. The timing of this could not possibly be worse."
"No no, please don't even worry about that right now," you interjected quickly, your mind already whirling with the huge implications of what he was saying. Today was the extremely important Martin gala event - without Harry there to oversee the execution of his highly complicated, avant-garde centrepiece dish, the whole thing could spectacularly fall apart in front of all the big-name food critics and chefs of Chicago.
And yet...none of that professional stuff mattered at all compared to the intensely personal crisis your mentor was going through right now. "Is everything...I mean, is your mom going to be okay?" you asked hesitantly, not wanting to pry too much but deeply concerned.
Harry let out a shaky sigh that made your chest clench with empathy for what he must be feeling. "I don't know yet. They're running some medical tests on her this morning to get more answers, but...it doesn't look good so far based on what they've told me."
There was a heavy pause before he added in a rough, strained voice, "Looks like I've got another big battle ahead of me here."  
Despite the gravity of the situation, you felt a pang of fondness at those terse words that sounded so quintessentially like Harry - tackling this heart-wrenching personal turmoil with the same determination and head-on approach he always brought to challenges in the kitchen.
"I'll be okay," Harry stated in a tone that made it clear he didn't want or expect any sympathy or reassurance from you about it. "Right now, all I need is for you to promise me that the gala event today is going to be a complete success no matter what else is happening. Can you handle being fully in charge of running the whole operation and making sure my vision for the centerpiece dish comes out perfectly?"
He didn't need to go into more detail - you knew full well the enormity of the responsibility he was asking you to take on here. Tremors of nerves joined the waves of sympathy and concern roiling through you at the weight of this task. But you didn't hesitate at all before answering.
"You have my word, Chef," you vowed solemnly. "I'll treat this dish and event with the same intense, laser-focused commitment you've been drilling into me from day one - and I absolutely won't let you down."  
This time, Harry's answering exhale held the faintest trace of pride and...something more you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I know you won't let me down. I'm gonna have to go take care of things now, but I'll call again later to check in on how preparations are going over there. In the meantime, just stay calm, stay focused, and execute everything exactly like we've practiced over and over again these past weeks."
"I will. And Harry--" you hesitated momentarily before plunging ahead. "I really hope...well, just please take care of yourself too, okay? Sending you all my best wishes for your mom to get through this."
There was a beat of surprised silence before he responded in a gruff but sincere voice, "Yeah...thanks, [Y/N]. I appreciate that."
With that, the call clicked off abruptly, leaving you alone amid the predawn stillness with nothing but the immense weight of the trust and responsibility Harry had placed on your shoulders.
This was by far the biggest professional challenge you'd ever faced in your culinary career. Not just having to pull off executing Harry's avant-garde, innovative, wildly complex dish to absolute perfection under the intense scrutiny of the biggest names and players in Chicago's food world - but doing so while your mentor battled a hugely serious personal crisis unfolding all the way across the country in New York. Just the thought of it made your stomach churn with anxious adrenaline and nerves.
Still...despite the daunting nature of this task, you couldn't help but feel a sense of opportunity arising as well. This was an unexpected and unprecedented chance for you to truly prove yourself at the highest possible level, to rise up and show you had the skills and mental toughness to handle the most intense culinary pressure situations. You'd worked too damn hard, invested too many long hours of sweat and failures in kitchens everywhere to let this monumental opportunity slip through your fingers.
A feeling of steely resolve settled over you as you climbed out of bed and began methodically getting ready to start your day. No matter what curveball life had thrown at Harry derailing his own ability to participate, your role and mission remained unchanged - you made a solemn vow to him, and you utterly refused to let him down when he was counting on you most in this dire moment. This gala would go off flawlessly, the vision and game plan he'd meticulously drilled into you executed with precise mastery down to every last detail. Abject failure was simply not an option today.
***
By the time the first pale streaks of dawn began filtering through your windows, you were fully dressed and shoving a high-protein bar into your mouth as fuel while heading out the door to the event venue. Despite the early hour, there was already a palpable buzz and energy of activity when you arrived, crews of staffers and organizers darting around in a highly choreographed frenzy as they put the very final touches and preparations in place.  
You spotted Thomason's towering, intimidating form immediately - the harsh sous chef resembled a military general marshaling the troops, barking out orders and keeping everything flowing in an orderly yet intense manner. Straightening your spine, you crossed over purposefully to greet him directly. Thomason's eyes flicked over you appraisingly before giving a short, sharp nod of acknowledgment. "Good, you're here. Let's get you situated and start running through all your station assignments."
Without any further preamble or wasted words, he turned sharply on his heel and strode off at a brisk pace, clearly expecting you to fall into step directly behind him with no delays. Suppressing a resigned sigh, you did just that, matching his stride as Thomason immediately launched into a rapid-fire rundown and delegation of every single responsibility that would fall under your purview for the entire day.
It was...honestly, a staggering amount of crucial tasks and oversight duties to absorb all at once this early in the morning, especially given the giant extenuating circumstance and crisis situation hanging overhead with Harry's absence. But Thomason pressed on in his typical brusque, no-nonsense manner.
Apparently Harry had already briefed the imposing, burly sous chef on the pertinent details of the personal situation he was dealing with, as evidenced by Thomason's uncharacteristic patience whenever you had to pause to fully digest certain instructions or ask for any clarification on assignments. But the gruff kitchen veteran otherwise made no comforting allowances, simply conveying the huge pile of duties you'd need to stay on top of from morning prep straight through to the evening's high-stakes dinner service.
By the time he finally finished laying out the overwhelming laundry list of tasks you were accountable for, a tenuous sense of control had settled over your earlier panic and worries. You could do this. Logistically speaking, it would be the most daunting and high-pressure culinary challenge you'd ever faced by far - but thanks to all the intense training and preparation Harry had put you through, you genuinely felt as ready as you could possibly be. All that remained now was keeping your head down and executing flawlessly with the same pinpoint focus and work ethic he'd instilled in you through those grueling practice runs.
With a grim nod of determination, you turned and started overseeing your assigned kitchen crew in setting up the intricate series of mise en place stations that would be required for pulling off Harry's avant-garde, wildly complex centerpiece dish. All around you, the buzz of frantic activity swelled as area after area of the massive venue was brought online in final preparation for the rapidly approaching arrival times of guests and participants.  
Though you kept waiting for the spike of nerves and adrenaline to hit, surprisingly, a strange sense of calm numbness had instead descended over you - the kind that often surfaced in the middle of an intense, all-hands-on-deck dinner rush back at the restaurant. In these do-or-die, make-it-or-break-it kinds of situations, there simply was no spare mental bandwidth available for anything beyond the critical task directly in front of you in that very moment. Distracting thoughts and nerves got shunted aside as survival instincts took over.
And just like that, you lost yourself in the soothing, almost meditative rhythm of prep work, falling into that laser-focused state of dicing, slicing, arranging each individual ingredient component with painstaking, meticulous care according to the detailed specifications Harry had drilled into you over and over. At one point, you absently accepted a bottled water from one of your line cooks with a murmured thanks, but otherwise operated on auto-pilot.  
You weren't entirely sure how much time had elapsed before Thomason's gruff bark of "Ten minutes!" roused you from your intense, trance-like focus. All around, your crew instantly kicked into an even higher gear, ferrying the completed mise en place components to the designated plating stations in an efficient flurry of motion. You barely registered Thomason sidling up next to you with an evaluating look on his imposing features.
"You did decent prep work so far, kid," he acknowledged in a tone of voice that was only marginally less dismissive than his usual demeanor. "Now let's see if you can actually plate this bastard of a complicated dish without totally screwing the pooch."
With that uniquely Thomason-style pep talk, he gave your shoulder a clap and then strode off to take his place at the all-important expediting position for the evening's service, leaving you warmed by the backhanded compliment. Coming from the notoriously harsh and miserly-with-praise Thomason, those words were basically the equivalent of an ecstatic rave.
Any boost of confidence was welcome at this point, as the first wave of elite guests began trickling into the dining area right on schedule. You could feel the atmosphere in the room shifting, charging with buzzing energy and anticipation as these influential culinary figures saw the artfully designed space, flipped through the rundown of tonight's prix fixe menu, and speculated about what boundary-pushing creation Harry had surely concocted for his centrepiece auction dish.  
Your own adrenaline kicked into high gear as you took your place at the head plating station, flanked by your hand-picked crew who would assist in the extremely intricate assemble of all the individual components coming together. A hush fell over the kitchen as you exchanged looks with your team, giving a final nod of readiness. 
"First courses..." came the terse callout from the expo line. And with that, you immediately snapped into focus, hands moving with the precision drilled into them through countless practice runs as you began plating the initial courses.
From there, the entire high-stakes evening blurred into a cyclone of intense concentration and rapid-fire execution, broken only by the occasional smattering of polite applause from the dining room as each new course made its debut to apparent delight. But you remained steadfastly disengaged from all of that, shutting it out entirely as you moved with economical grace from one fastidiously assembled plate to the next in a state of total flow.
You were aware on some level of Thomason periodically prowling the line, sharp eyes scrutinizing every last component with the intensity of a decorated drill sergeant. But his presence was almost soothing in a way, a low-key affirmation that you and your crew were hitting every lofty mark thus far.
Finally, after what felt like both a grueling endurance marathon and the naturally seamless completion of a singular, continuous motion...it was time. All the other courses had been executed flawlessly, clearing the way for the pièce de résistance - Harry's avant-garde centerpiece dish that would cap off the evening. You took a deep, steadying breath as the first calls came in from the expo line.
"Fire one centerpiece!"
Your hands moved with the precision of a surgeon, each practiced motion flowing seamlessly into the next as you began assembling the first plate of the showstopper course. Around you, your crew worked in the same laser-focused unison, handling each individual component with utmost care and attention to detail.  
Despite the mounting pressure with every new order fire, that strange sense of calm numbness persisted. There was no mental bandwidth to spare on anything extraneous - your entire world had contracted to these series of sequential tasks laid out before you, each one flowing naturally into the next like a continuous stream.
Plating tweezers arranged the final delicate pour of herb-infused olive oil spheres with the same singular focus as you squeezed the pipette to apply the perfectly calibrated dot of acidic reduction. Not a single movement was wasted, not a component out of place as you slid the finished avant-garde masterpiece across to the expo line for final approval before heading out to the dining room.
"Looked good from here, kid," Thomason's gruff voice sounded in your ear amidst the orchestrated chaos, startling you slightly. You blinked, barely registering the stocky sous chef's towering presence overseeing your shoulder before turning your attention immediately back to the next set of hands firing.
On and on it went in that same relentless yet steady cadence, each nouveau plate a pristine reflection of the focus, intensity, and cumulative skill that had been honed into you over months of Harry's rigorous training. Sweat beaded along your hairline, apron dampening as you moved with increasing speed and efficiency under the mounting pressure of continuous fires.  
You were only vaguely aware of the soft crashing waves of polite applause rolling in from the nearby dining room each time a new creation hit the tables. Your ears were trained to more important sounds - the sharp callouts from expo, the curt exchanges between yourself and your crew attempting to maintain the incredible pace.
At one point, you registered Thomason's heavy tread beside you once more, his grizzled voice pitched low to be heard over the controlled pandemonium. "Pretty damn flawless so far, I'll give you that. But don't let your foot off the gas now, we still got a ways to go yet."
A simple grunt of acknowledgment was all you could spare in response as you plated two more centerpiece dishes in rapid succession, sliding them across for inspection. Thomason made a noise of begrudging approval before turning away, freeing you to tunnel-vision once more.  
Swaying slightly on your feet from the physical toll and intense focus, you blinked away the spotties at the edge of your vision. There was simply no other choice - failure was not an option, not after everything you and Harry had invested into this critical moment. 
How much time had elapsed, you couldn't say. All you knew was the continuous cycle of order fires, the increasingly efficient rhythm of your movements and those of your crew. The end goal of seeing this groundbreaking creation delivered to the last diner with the same polish as the first lone plate.
It was only when the final callout came over the line that reality slowly bled back in around the edges. "Last one, centerpiece! Fire for the panel..."  
The clatter of your toolkit was shockingly loud in the relative stillness as you began assembling that climactic plate with even more painstaking care than before. Every component was a masterstroke, each paso doble between you and your crew unfolding in step.
You barely registered Thomason's presence hovering nearby, posture radiating tension and scrutiny, as you slid the final centerpiece across for his inspection. A short eternity seemed to pass as the steely-eyed veteran examined the plate with unsparing intensity from all angles.  
At last, he gave a single deferential nod before calling out the fire to the dining room. "Chef's centerpiece...walking!"
A rousing swell of applause rolled back from beyond the partition as you straightened up, only now allowing the descending sense of accomplishment to wash over you fully. It was done - Harry's groundbreaking, avant-garde vision had been executed to utter perfection.
The surrounding kitchen area seemed to slowly reanimate as the rest of the corps d'équipe emerged from their own hypnotrance–states, exchanging tired grins and backslaps of congratulations. For his part, Thomason wore an expression that bordered on...approving?You could never tell.
"You pulled it off, kid," he rumbled in that trademark gravelly baritone. The stocky chef's clap on your shoulder managed to convey impressed respect more clearly than any flowery praise. "Flawless service from top to bottom. I'll be sure to pass that along to Chef Patino when I touch base."
Your face must have reflected the gratified shock you felt at the gruff compliment, as Thomason's mouth twisted wryly before adding, "Don't look so damn stunned. You did good work holding it all together out there tonight. Real good work."
With that, he gave your shoulder one final squeeze before turning to address the rest of the crew and applauds rippled through the kitchen area. But you barely heard any of it over the dull roar in your ears - the mixture of bone-deep exhaustion and sheer disbelief at what you'd all just managed to pull off against seemingly insurmountable odds.
Gradually, the bustle of post-service breakdown routines fired up around you. But you remained still in the eye of that storm for several long moments, simply allowing the profound weight of your accomplishment tonight to sink in fully.  
Despite the challenges, the unexpected crises that had threatened to derail everything...your tenacity and the depth of your training had ultimately prevailed. Harry's faith in you had been rewarded with an unmitigated triumph.
The realization brought a surge of fierce pride, tempered only by the hope that your mentor had managed to find some shred of comfort amidst his own turmoil tonight. You knew Harry well enough to be certain he would be dissecting every component, evaluating each nuance of the dish's execution with his trademark intensity even from afar.
And suddenly, you very much needed to hear his voice - to fill him in on all the details, reassure him that you'd kept your word right down to crossing every final T. To...well, to simply share in this significant victory with the man whose driving ambition and belief had made it all possible.
As if summoned by sheer force of will, your phone began buzzing from your back pocket with a familiar caller ID flashing. Stepping aside from the lingering chaos, you swiped to accept the call with your heart lodged squarely in your throat.
"Harry? It's me..."
The voice on the other end sounded tinny and wrung-out, yet still utterly suffused with that unmistakable gravel-rough timbre. "How'd it go, kiddo?"
Despite the bone-weary fatigue dragging at your every muscle, you felt a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you took in the sight of your crew unabashedly celebrating their collective win. "See for yourself."
With a few quick taps, you switched the call over to FaceTime, angling the camera to capture the wild scene surrounding you. Raucous cheers and whoops of victory filled the feed as Harry got an eyeful of his triumphant kitchen corps living it up.
For a long moment, he was silent on the other end, drinking in the rowdy scene. Then, his low chuckle finally filtered through, slightly watery but brimming with unmistakable pride.
"That's my crew," Harry rasped in a voice gone thick. "Well done, team. Well done."
You grinned fiercely at the screen, willing him to feel every ounce of your conviction as you responded. "We did you proud, Chef. Start to finish."
And just like that, the shaky exhale he released said everything his gruff words couldn't. For all his outward bravado and grit, your mentor's steadfast belief had been vindicated tonight - and his faith in you rewarded beyond even his own expectations.
For the first time in weeks, that shaky tension seemed to finally loosen its grip on both of you. Though the road ahead might still be fraught, this evening's triumph had forged an unbreakable bond of shared understanding and trust.
The entire grueling process of preparing for and executing the ambitious centerpiece dish had pushed both your skills, stamina and mental toughness to their limits. But instead of fracturing under such tremendous shared pressure, your mentor-mentee dynamic had been distilled down to its essential core - that of two committed culinary artists striving relentlessly towards the same creative vision, and ultimately emerging unified in the wake of that lofty achievement.
In that moment, any unresolved tensions or lingering frissons of attraction between you were rendered almost quaint, overwhelmed by the profound sense of creative synergy and hard-won victory. Those undercurrents would inevitably resurface later once the high had faded. But for now, you could simply bask in the warm glow of knowing you'd risen to every challenge thrown your way and come out on top.
Harry must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, the way your posture had relaxed slightly without sacrificing any of that fierce determination. His gruff chuckle sounded again through the phone's speaker, drawing your attention back to his careworn but glowing expression.  
"Listen, pet..." he began in that trademark rasp, once again hitting you with the nickname that made your heart skip a beat,. "I gotta go take care of some stuff on this end. But we're gonna crack open a couple bottles when I'm back, you and me. We've earned it after pulling off a goddamn miracle like this one."
The very thought of the two of you sharing drinks and cutting loose for once, without the weight of impending culinary obligations hanging overhead, struck you as incredibly appealing after tonight's intensity. A warm smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gave an emphatic nod.
"You know I'm gonna hold you to that, Chef. I'm thinking top-shelf stuff too, none of that bottom-rung swill."
Harry threw back his head with another peal of laughter. "You got it, you earned it. Gimme a couple days to get things sorted and I'll take you somewhere swanky to celebrate, on me. My way of saying thanks for proving me right about you, Y/n."
Before you could respond, Harry's gaze grew pensive, amusement fading slightly as he searched your expression with uncharacteristic earnestness. "And I mean it, you know. Not just about the drinks, but...well, you really came through in the clutch tonight. I knew you had the skills to pull it off, but seeing you actually do it against those crazy odds? You exceeded every expectation. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood."
You felt your cheeks warming at the uncommon depth of sincerity in his gravelly voice. Though Harry had never been one for emotional vulnerability, in this moment you could see the profound gratitude shining through loud and clear.  
"That really means a lot coming from you, Harry," you managed in a slightly hushed tone, momentarily rendered speechless by the unexpected warmth radiating from him. "You know I'd never want to let you down, especially when you were counting on me most."
The tender moment stretched out in weighted silence, intimate currents flowing back and forth even through the crackle of the video feed. Until eventually, Harry seemed to resurface from that unguarded well of sincerity, giving a slightly blustery clearing of his throat.
"Well anyway, you did the heavy lifting tonight," he rallied in his typical all-business timbre, the hoarse bravado back in full force. "I'll leave you and the crew to enjoy your big victory bash. Just try not to get too out of hand with the partying."
He started to shift away from the camera, clearly preparing to disengage, when his hazel-eyed gaze flicked back to pin you with an unreadable look. A ghost of a smirk played around the edges of his mouth as he seemed to drink you in through the video feed.
"Oh, and one more thing, darlin'..." 
You felt your breath catch at the rich, velvety timbre Harry imbued that endearment with - a departure from the casual, teasing way he usually deployed such pet names. This particular iteration seemed to caress something deeper, more weighted between you.
"I'm real proud of how you rose above and killed it tonight," he murmured in that same honeyed rasp that raised goosebumps along your skin. His gaze raked over you with unmistakable heat and intent. "Showed me that laser-focused mental strength and fortitude I always suspected was in there."
Harry shook his tousled head slowly, lips still curved in that secretive half-smile. "Gotta admit, I clearly underestimated you in the past, darlin'. Won't be making that mistake again."
The suggestive timbre in which he issued that statement was utterly at odds with the mentor-protegee context you'd been operating in mere moments ago. You felt your breath hitch as a warmth bloomed across your cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware that you were still surrounded by your raucous crew celebrating nearby.
Surely you were reading far too much into Harry's words and tone...except his eyes were gleaming with a combination of heat and challenge as they roamed over your features in a way that made you feel stripped bare. As if he knew full well the dizzying, electrifying effect he could have on you - even through a mere video call - and was shamelessly exercising that power.
You opened your mouth to respond, though what you could possibly say to that molten statement you had no idea. Thankfully, Harry seemed to recognize he was quickly veering into the old inappropriate territory and reigned himself in with a rough throat-clearing.
"Anyway, go have fun with the crew and I'll holler at you in a couple days once I get things sorted out on this end," he concluded, all traces of that heated bravado tucked away once more behind his typical gruff exterior. "You've more than earned it, darlin'."
Another searing look accompanied the purring emphasis he gave that endearment before Harry flashed you a stunningly lopsided grin - then the video feed clicked off, leaving you slightly dazed and flustered in its wake.
A long moment passed where you simply stared at the blank screen, cheeks still burning as your mind raced over the cadence of that parting exchange. From the heartfelt gratitude and rare showering of praise...to that inexplicably molten aside loaded with suggestion, it had all left you feeling deliciously unmoored and off-kilter. 
You remained in that uncertain headspace for a while longer, the buzz of your crew's raucous celebration providing a soundtrack as the hours ticked by. Though you made a concerted effort to remain present, to revel in this hard-won moment of glory alongside your teammates, part of your consciousness couldn't help but keep circling back to that searing parting remark from Harry.
You kept thinking about the way he spoke, wondering if there was a hidden meaning behind his words.  Suddenly, your long-suppressed feelings for the charismatic chef surged with volcanic intensity, consuming every rational thought until only one truth remained. 
You decided you were done hiding your desire for Harry– done keeping that ravenous wanting locked away in the name of professionalism.The next time you saw your mentor, you promised yourself you would be completely honest. No more beating around the bush. Only complete, blazing honesty.
You would openly admit the burning attraction you'd felt since first meeting his intense gaze months ago. You would confront the growing tension from all his suggestive comments.
No more hiding behind being professional. You would put everything out in the open, once and for all. Either Harry felt the same fiery passion...or he didn't, and you could finally move on. 
Once and for all.
But the need to finally uncover the truth burned within you, even if it meant risking everything and leaving your heart in ashes - because the constant wondering and uncertainty had become a suffocating torment you could no longer endure. Making that decision lifted a weight off your shoulders momentarily, but you steeled yourself knowing the real challenge still lay ahead, a daunting path that could either lead you to euphoric fulfilment or utter devastation.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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wolfstardaughter-jj · 9 months
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DENSE
Summary: Yule Ball is right around the corner and you still haven't found a date. Or at least decided on asking someone as a date. But your heart is set on a certain redhead who just isn't taking a hint and is as dense as a rock.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader
Song: Must be Love by Laufey
Warning: fluff, anxiety rant (reader stressed with school)
Word count: 4.8k+
A/n: honestly I started this around February this year and forgot about it... yeah that bad. I wanted to get it out of my system since it's been there for a while. This was actually meant to be part of my serendipity book but i still havent written the other chapters but I really like this chapter. Either way I hope you lovelies will enjoy it, Happy holidays<3333
~~~~~~~
Everyone was ecstatic from the announcement of the Yule ball. It was the first ever dance they were to have at the school and everyone was already starting off their plans on what to wear and who to go with. With the Triwizard tournament at hand, you were glad there was something to take your mind off the stress.
Training and helping Harry through all of the practices were starting to wear you out.
At the moment, all of you were in the Great hall simply studying. You were nearly done with your assessment when from the corner of your eye, you spot Fred throwing a piece of paper towards his younger brother.
Ron raised his head up in annoyance, wondering why his brother would want to disturb him. He opened the ball of crumpled paper and read the words "you better get a move on or else there won't be any girl to ask to be your date." Or something like that, he only skimmed through it.
Ron gave Fred an annoyed stare, "Who are you going to the Yule ball with then?"
Fred crossed his arms and sent Ron a smirk, "Well, I still have to ask them. I’m thinking on doing it really soon,"
Your ears prick up at his words. He's planning on asking someone else to the ball? Of course he'd be going with someone but you had always hoped it would be you.
Your heart sank at the mere thought he was going to ask someone else to the Yule ball.
Ron looked surprised, he thought that Fred had already asked you but he was wrong. He looked towards you, seeing you leaned over your assessment, looking like you didn't care to pay mind to what he and Fred were talking about. But in truth, you did care, you cared a whole lot.
"How about you Y/n? Who are you going with? Lots of guys have been asking you lately, it shouldn't be too hard to choose one." Ron asked, not knowing that this was sparking a little jealousy in Fred.
You looked up from your paper and looked at Ron. You saw the worried glances Harry and Hermione were sending your way.
"I won't tell you cause it's a surprise." You whispered back with a wink before looking back down on your activity.
Fred tensed up at your words, it sounds like you already accepted to be someone’s date. He didn't want to pry on who it was in case he might get his heart even more broken, but of course, curiosity got the best of him.
"Really? Why am I only hearing of this now?" Fred asked.
"Well technically they haven't asked me yet so I'm going to ask them instead." You replied courtly.
Fred seemed perplexed. They haven't asked her to the ball yet? What an idiot. Oh god wait, is she planning on asking that Beauxbatons girl? No she wouldn't, she would have told me.
"...so who's the lucky girl- or guy?" Fred stumbled on his words as he leaned in. He really wanted to know who it was, even if it was at the expense of his own feelings.
You look at him with a grin, trying to mask the slight nervous breakdown you were having within. It was ironic that he was asking about this especially since it was him you were talking about.
"I'm not telling you who it is, Freddie. Like I said, it's a surprise." You state as you finish up your assessment.
"Oh come on, you don't need to tell me their name. Maybe give me some clues? Like which school they're going to-"
You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing how stubborn he was going to be about this. "Well that would just narrow down your possible choices."
He started shaking your arm like a child asking their parents for a sweet in a sweet shop. "Come on, just tell me."
You shook your head and laughed at his dramatics. "Fred, you should finish up your activity."
"Hey, don't change the subject." Fred pointed out.
"You're not gonna do it till I tell you, huh?" You said with an unimpressed stare.
"Nope. Now can you at least tell me one thing?" He urged on.
You let out a sigh as you went deep in thought. Do you really want to help him in finding out who it is or leave him to his madness. You decided on the first choice. It wasn't like he was gonna figure out it's him.
"They're studying here at hogwarts."
"...Yeah, that totally narrows down the choices." Fred sighed. "Which house are they in?"
You chuckled, "like I'd tell you that. That would make it too obvious."
Hermione laughed from the other side. "Y/n, even if you say what house they're in, I don't think they'll be able to figure out who it is."
You thought about it for a second and realized she had a point. "Huh, you're right." You agreed with a chuckle.
"What's that supposed to mea- you know what, I don't wanna know. What I do wanna know is, who this person is." Fred was adamant at finding out who the mystery person was, and it was starting to make you nervous that he might actually figure it out.
He sat up once he found an alternative solution to his predicament. "Oh, I know, I'll name a bunch of people, and you tell me if they're the person. Okay?"
"What if I lied and said no even if they were the person I was going to ask to the ball?" You smirked, which was only returned with an unimpressed glare.
Fred was about to say something but decided against it. "I'll just do it anyways… is it Diggery."
You shook your head a no.
"Draco?"
You cringed at the thought, no offense to Draco. Besides you knew he had his eyes in a certain Gryffindor. "Godric no, he's already planning on going with someone else."
Both Harry"s and Fred's eyes seemed to widened at the statement, Harry seemed even more surprised.
They both yelled out in unison, "He is?!”
Snape went in to scold the two for their outburst. Removing 5 house points from each of them. Causing the surrounding students to send their glares towards the two.
“Yes he is! Now hush the both of you!” You scolded as you continued with your work.
“Right, I shouldn't get distracted… How about that Freya girl?" He spoke her name in doubt, scared that he might be right.
You chuckled at the mention of her name, "No, she's going with her girlfriend."
Fred's heart settled at the realization, abit shocked by the new information but he was delighted to have that thought settled in his mind. That means you weren't going to act on your childhood crush. But then the thought entered his mind that it meant you were planning on going with someone else, someone he wasn't aware of.
"How about… Neville?"
"Already going with someone."
"Dean?"
"He plans on asking someone else."
"Zabini?"
"Nice guy but no."
"Nott?"
"He's going stagg."
"I don't know why I'm even asking this but, how about Lee?"
You immediately shook your head a no.
Lee perked up from his seat at the mention of his name. "Huh? I heard my name, what's going on."
George leaned over and told Lee about the situation.
"Ohhh, I see." Lee chuckled, "this is going to be fun." He whispered back.
"Godric...well uh, is it Louis?" Fred guessed. At this point he didn't know who else could be the possible match.
"No. He is a good option but no." You simpered on, wondering where this conversation was going to take you.
"I give up on doing this, just answer my questions." Fred continued. "Do you talk to them everyday?"
The question seemed vague enough for him to not know who so it didn't hurt to answer him. “Yes,”
Fred went deep in thought, why did he even choose this question? "Who would you be talking to that I wouldn't know about...
You all chuckled to hear his words, he may seemed to be really observant when it came to you but completely oblivious at the same time.
"Oh wow Fred, you take note of who y/n talks to everyday?" George teased, though Fred didn't really see it that way.
"So what? I'm with her almost all the time, I would know who she'd be talking to." Fred explained.
"You aren't with her all the time. What about during class hours?" Hermione stated.
Fred looked dumbfounded, he didn't think of that.
Harry leaned over to you, making sure no one else heard him other than you, "I wonder how long it's going to take for him to realize it's him."
"Give it 2-3 business days." You replied with a chuckle.
Fred turned back to you with another question in mind. "What does their name start with?"
You shook your head with a chuckle. "I'm not going to answer that."
"Ugh, fine. Are they taller than you?"
You laughed at his question, "Yes." By a lot.
"That question doesn't even help. Lots of people are taller than Y/n." Harry commented earning a smack on the head from you. You caught Fred laugh at his joke which you used to your advantage.
You gasped and feigned an insulted look, "Okay, ouch. I was just thinking about telling you who it was but I changed my mind." You scooted away, with a false pout.
Fred laughed, trying to pull you back to him by pulling you by the waist. "I'm only joking, love."
You replied with an eye roll, trying to conceal the grin that slowly crept onto your lips.
You began packing your things before facing Fred again, "Seeing as you're not doing the activity, I'm going to go and spend the rest of the period outside."
“Oh come on, tell me who it is.” Fred stated with a pout as he theld onto your hand to keep you from leaving.
“Like I said before, no.” You replied with a teasing grin before grabbing the rest of your things.
You stood up from your seat and handed in your paper to Snape. He seemed to have been listening in on your conversation. He seemed to find your conversation quite amusing.
"If that Weasley boy doesn't ask you soon, I think it's better you accept Diggery's offer." He suggested in his usual monotone voice but there was this spark of interest in his eyes on the topic which surprised you.
“Professor Snape!” You laughed, surprised by this side of your professor.
“I'm just saying,” He simply shrugged before walking off with your work.
~~~~~~
The following day was hectic, more so than usual.
Most of the classes were finishing up their lessons so that during the holiday break you'd all be free from the burdens of school work. But it didnt help when they just piled more school work over the other to cram everything in one go.
Things seemed worse for you since you had decided to take up more classes this year. Not just that, but you somehow tangled yourself into becoming a some sort of charm fixer for the younger years whenever they'd mess up a spell.
And because Harry got himself stuck with being a triwizard champion for Hogwarts. You had to help him with spells and charms just so he could survive the challenges. You wouldn't be able to to live with yourself if anything were to happen to him under your watch.
As the holiday's were approaching, the only decent things about your schedule was the dance classes in between subjects. You had already learned how to waltz when you were a girl. Your parents weren't ones to host glamorous balls but your grandparents were. You had fond memories of your dance classes during your summers spent abroad. Twirling endlessly in studios till your head wouldn't stop spinning.
McGonagall appeared at the front of the hall and cleared her throat to call the attention of the crowd. "find your partners everyone, we will begin shortly."
Everyone began scattering across the room searching for their partners. You had the tendency to switch partners every now and then since the boys kept asking if you could show them the steps to the dance. You didn't mind, even if it meant getting your toes stepped on every now and again.
As you looked across the room, you wondered who you would be dancing with this time. Your own question was answered when your hand was suddenly grabbed and you were twirled around to be flush against someone's chest.
"Freddie!" You laughed, the wind was nearly knocked out of you from the sudden turn.
"You don't mind having this dance with me, do you love?" He asked with a tilt of his head.
You shook your head with a grin, "No, I don't mind at all."
Your hands were intertwined as your other hand rested on his shoulder and his hand grasped your waist. There was no tense atmosphere compared to the other boys who always seem to stray away from their confident selves when around you. But not Fred, no. He was always his true self around you.
The music began playing and echoed through the hall. Light footsteps pattered across the floor as people tried to find their footing. Some seemed to struggle more than others but that wasn't the case for you and Fred.
The two of you danced across the floor in sync. The two of you paid little mind to everything around you as you both were lost in your own world. Like your heart harmonised with the beat of his heart and that was the only rhythm you guys needed to dance.
"You've improved since the last time we've danced." You teased as you continued your steps.
Fred rolled his eyes at the memory of his poor attempt at trying to dance the waltz with you during one of your grandparents balls. He didn't exactly want to be there in the first place let alone dance a waltz he's never learned. But he didn't want to leave you there alone either. You wanted to dance, so he danced with you.
"Careful, I might step on one of your toes again." He taunted as he went along with your teasing.
You shook your head with a laugh. You had hoped that he would be your date for the ball. When he accompanied you to your grandparents' ball, it was like something out of a fairy tale. Though he stepped on your toes once or twice, it was all worth it. Especially when around the end, the two of you were left alone out in the gardens to stargaze the rest of the night.
Maybe, just maybe he would ask you to the ball.
Fred knew from your silence, you were stuck in thought. "You're still not going to tell me who it is?"
Your eyes snapped back to him, "Who?"
"The one you're taking to the ball." He replied almost in a whisper. At this point he wondered if he should still be asking about who it is. Is he really going to subject himself to this hurt?
Your eyes softened at his question. "Freddie..." you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that the guy you most desperately want to go to the ball with was him. But you were too scared to do so. Godric forbid you had any bravery left in you to tell him your true feelings.
You could casually ask him to the ball. Make nothing of it. To go as friends. But something in your gut told you that if you went together, things would be different. Things were different.
You weren't just little kids anymore. You were both at that stage in your life where love and relationships were the main focus of everyone's lives. If you screw up things with Fred, you'd probably spiral into a mess.
"You don't have to tell me. Just make sure to save me a dance, alright?" You could feel the defeat sink into his voice. But before you could do anything about it you were pulled away by another person to continue the waltz.
You caught a glimpse of Fred and you could feel your heart start breaking. You wanted to tell Fred but was it really worth the cost?
~~~~~~
It had been two days since Fred had questioned you about the mystery guy and you thought he just dropped the topic and forgot, but you were wrong.
Truth was, it was all he could think about. He didn't even try to ask you to go with him to the ball that day because he was scared he was going to get shot down.
And if you were being honest, he was all you could think about too. Not just on the fact that he was so adamant at knowing who the mystery person was, but also because he too had someone on his mind on who to ask for the ball.
If there was already someone he planned on asking, why even bother asking him to be your date to the ball? You felt hopeless and most of all, stupid for ever thinking you had a chance at asking Fred to the ball.
These thoughts consumed you to the point you didn't even want to try to sleep anymore. You just laid there on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Eventually you got hungry and tired of your own thoughts.
You got up from your bed and slowly crept away from the girl's dormitory, being careful not to wake anyone up, especially Stark. Godric knows how grumpy that cat gets when he gets woken up. You didn't currently have the map with you since it was with Harry but you didn't mind. You've basically engraved the school's layout in your mind.
You eventually reached the portrait and got out. It wasn't totally pitch black but it would help to have a little light help guide your way.
As you walked through the empty hallways, you couldn't help but think about all the things that were troubling you these last few days. I guess lots of things have been bothering you lately. You didn't exactly know where to start.
The thought that Harry was constantly being placed out into the line of danger and you not being able to help him is killing you. You have always been there to protect him and help him out but with the stupid Triwizard tournament rules getting in your way, you can't do anything about it.
Your stroll eventually led up to the kitchens, quickly grabbing a few snacks and bidding daisy and the other elves goodbye before going around the castle again. You missed these peaceful silences.
In all honesty you were suffocating from all of the school work and activities brought by the Triwizard tournament. You may not have been part of them but your professors seemed to have the impression that you were capable of handling lots of extra school tasks.
Like helping lead the class in dance classes in preparation for the Yule ball since you had experience in ball dancing. Assisting in charms classes in the lower years in your free time. Being a sort of ambassador for the foreign students seeing as you can speak French and russian. As if already having to deal with your normal studies and Quidditch wasn't enough.
You liked that they thought of you as a responsible student but you were juggling so many things that you rarely had the time for anything fun anymore. While your friends were off pranking, you were stuck helping second years undo charms that went wrong. While Kayla, Pansy and Mione were doing their usual "book club" sessions, you were busy helping Harry figure out how to do certain spells.
Your mind was so wrapped up in all your worrying that you didn't even realize that your footsteps led you to Monty. You grinned at the sight of the tree.
"Hello old friend." You greeted as you sat at the root of the tree.
You snacked on your food as you contemplated in silence. Though the tight feeling was still present in your chest, it felt comforting to be in a place that made you feel safe.
You leaned your head back on the tree and looked up at the star covered sky. You missed star-gazing. With all of the chaos, you haven't been able to star-gaze in a while.
Like a gush of fresh air passing you, you knew a presence was nearby. One that you were all too well familiar with.
You turned your head to look at him with a light grin. There he stood in his plaid pajamas and initial sweater.
"How come you always manage to find me?" You asked, tilting your head with a chuckle.
"I should be the one asking why you're always wandering off, in the middle of the night no less." Fred replied as he sat down next to you.
You both sat there quietly; looking up at the stars, mostly lost in thought. That was until Fred decided to break the silence.
"Why are you up so late? I know you don't usually sleep early but even 3 am is a stretch for you.” Fred stated as he pointed at his watch. ”What's on your mind, Carrington?"
A concerned look fell on your face, you didn't realize that much time passed already. You let out a sigh, you knew you were going to end up exhausted the next day.
"Honestly?" You inquired.
Fred nodded at you with sincerity, he had all his attention focused on you.
You sighed and suddenly the words just poured out of you, "it's just… so much is happening and I don't know how to deal with it all. I have to assist the younger years in charms, quidditch training, normal classes, foreign students and- il se passe trop de choses et j'ai l'impression que je vais pleurer et crier mais-" (too much is happening and i feel like I'm going to cry and scream but-). You paused, forgetting that Fred didn't know a lick of French.
"Fuck sorry, I didn't mean to do that." You apologized as you sunk your face into your hands.
"No, no, it's okay. Just keep going. I'll listen, even though I don't understand a single word of french. I'll be here to listen." He replied as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him.
You nodded as you continued on in your rant, the words were all coming out like a broken dam. "It's just that so much is going on and pour l'amour de la merde, you'd think they'd give a 4th year a break. I feel like I'm on the verge of breaking down every minute but I won't let myself go because there's still so much meant to be done."
You haven't really told anyone about how stressed you've been feeling lately and it felt so great to actually tell someone. Fred nodded along as he listened to you. There was this look on his face, as though he hung on every word you said, regardless if it was in a foreign language.
"Oh darling, I'm so sorry you've been doing all that work. They should be paying you at this point. Is there anything I can do to lessen the load?" Fred asked as he brushed and stroked your hair.
You sighed and closed your eyes, "unfortunately, no."
He tilted his head, as if not believing what you said. “Are you absolutely sure? Cause you know me, I can give Minnie and Alby a piece of my mind.”
“Thanks for the offer but I'm sure I can handle it." You leaned your head on his shoulder in defeat.
"I know you can, but it doesn't mean you have to." He replied, rubbing his hand over your arm.
All these years, he's been by your side through it all. Through all the Voldemort nonsense, through the injuries, through the nightmares, everything.
"Freddie." You whispered.
"Yeah, love?" He replied.
"Thank you."
He faced you with this puzzled look, "For what?"
You gave him a simple shrug, thinking the answer was already obvious. "For just being there for me."
Fred's features softener and pulled you in closer to his side. "Anything for you, darling. You know that."
“I do…I hope you know the same applies to you.” You replied as you looked up at him.
“I do.” He nodded as he looked up at the stars. They were incredibly bright tonight, he wondered if you always wandered out here just to look at the stars to clear your head. That would explain why he would always find you here.
“When was the last time we went stargazing together?”
You grinned at the memory, “last summer when we went camping on the reserve.”
“We should do it again.” He replied, his eyes still glued to the stars.
You look at him with a cheek aching smile, “yeah, we should.” He may have meant the stars in the sky, but to you, it meant the freckles that were scattered across his cheeks like constellations. Those were the stars you were willing to spend endless nights studying.
“Can we just look at the stars while they're still out?” He laced his fingers between yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Okay.” You replied, snuggling yourself closer to Fred to get comfy as you looked up at the sky.
And that's what you both did till dawn came. The sky twisting in colors of peach and purple as the sun slowly rose over the grounds of Hogwarts. It was a quiet morning, and for once your mind was quiet too.
Maybe it had something to do with the boy whose shoulder you were resting your head on or the peaceful ambience the morning brought you. You didn't really care, you were happy and that was it.
You couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of confidence flow through you. It could have been your mind lacking sleep but everything that was holding you back from telling Fred about your feelings just flew out the window.
You wanted to tell him, and you wanted to tell him now.
You sat up and turned to Fred in a rushed motion. Your movements startled the boy but he was left waiting for whatever you were about to do.
“What's wrong, love?” He asked you, surprisingly not as sleepy as you expected him to be.
“Remember what I said about that person I was going to ask to the Yule ball?” You hesitated with your words. You weren't even sure if you were thinking straight. You prayed that whatever words formed in your head would be the right words to say to Fred.
Fred tensed at your words. He nodded slightly, hoping that the next words that would leave your mouth wouldn't hurt too much.
“Well…” You felt your throat go dry but you were already in too deep, you had to commit. “To tell you the truth, they're really really really dense. And honestly I don't even know why they would even want to go with me if the opportunity presented itself but-.”
Fred's forehead creased at your words, who wouldn't want to go with you to the ball? That would be like turning down the chance to enter heaven. “Why'd you think that, love? Anyone lucky enough to even be in your sights should be thanking God or whatever force for putting you on this earth.”
You felt your cheeks go bright red and your heart beat ten times faster. You weren't even sure if you could have controlled it with Fred's words just pouring out of his mouth like they just came to him naturally. He didn't even stop there. Once he started he couldn't stop.
“I mean look at you, I don't think I can think of anyone else in the whole entire world that could even come close to how perfect you are. I mean sure, you're basically a night owl with how little you sleep because you'd rather read than have a decent amount of sleep,”
You laughed at his little comment, shoving him slightly in the shoulder, but that didn't stop him from continuing his rant.
“You literally land in the hospital wing every week or so because you'd rather put yourself in harm's way than others. And you don’t even like sharing your cookies but you still do. You even ask your grandmother to send more cookies just so you can share more of them. All these things I just listed down are just more reasons why you’re perfect- and why I love you.” He let those words slip past his lips so quickly he barely even registered them. By the time he realized what he said he knew he couldn't take them back, nor did he want to.
“And yes, I love you… and not just in a friend way but the “I love you so much that if you're not around I can't breathe and the mere thought that you probably like someone else is killing me”... way.”
You were left speechless. You felt like a complete idiot at that moment. You both were fools from the start. How couldn't you have seen the signs?
He was the only one there for you when no one else was. That time you landed in the hospital wing after a full moon incident from helping your uncle moony, he was the one who stayed by your side all those nights.
When you got a cold after a snowball fight with the Weasley’s over the holidays, Fred visited you nearly everyday at the Manor to check on you before he too caught a cold. Then it was your turn to take care of him.
When you got detention from getting caught for a prank you pulled, Fred got himself detention so you wouldn't be alone.
Fred felt his chest tighten at the silence, you haven't said a thing in the last few seconds and it was terrifying. “I know you probably don't feel the same-”
Finally, you snapped out of your self inflicted scolding and reached over with one hand to keep you up and the other on Fred cheek. “My god you are dense.” with that, your lips crashed into his and suddenly everything fell into place.
All the years of pining. All the endless hours of you avoiding and hiding your feelings when all along, the both of you were just too scared of saying how you felt.
His hand slipped over to your cheek while his other hand gripped your waist. He couldn't even process his thoughts about what was happening. Was this actually real? Was this a dream? Was he even awake?
His thoughts were silenced when you pulled away just slightly to let out a small whisper, something that was meant for him and him alone, “I love you too.”
A grin grew on Fred's lips, going up ear to ear. It felt like hearing your favorite song for the first time. You loved him. He couldn't believe it. Fred pulled you in for another kiss but it was difficult from how he just couldn't stop smiling.
“Really?” He asked, his voice heavy with bliss and giddiness. It was like the whole world just lit up for him. He really couldn't believe it.
You let out a light laugh at the sight, “Yes, really.” Before placing a peck on his lips.
“Are you absolutely sure?” He asked again, this time with a smirk and his usual tone of arrogance. Sure he still couldn't fully wrap his head around the thought that you, the girl of his dreams, actually loved him back. But that still didn't stop him from teasing the living daylights out of you.
You pondered on the question further, knowing how Fred loved to play this game. Your silence only furthered the fun when Fred began to grow impatient. “On second thought…”
Fred let out a chuckle before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up to his lap, “Nice try love. You've already said the words. You can't take them back.”
You rolled your eyes jokingly before facing him with a cheek aching grin, “oh no, what shall I ever do?” You replied with feigned fear before letting out another laugh.
Fred leaned over to your cheek, his nose barely grazing over the surface of your cheek. “How about I take you to the ball as…your boyfriend?”
You pulled away with a grin, "Are you sure?”
Fred looked off into the distance and tapped his finger over his chin, “Hmmm, you know on second thought-”
You let out a laugh before resting your hands at the back of his neck, “Nuh uh, you already said the words, Freddie. You can't take them back.” You repeated his words back to him with a smirk.
He pulled you in for another kiss to wipe away that smirk. But he then pulled away, just slightly, “You have my heart, love. I don't think I'll be able to take that back either.”
Feeling the blush rush up to your cheeks, you could only hide your flustered state in the crook of his neck. Now it was his turn to smirk.
“Don't get shy on me now, love.” Fred spoke as he hugged you tight. He thought that this was just too good to be true. He thought that maybe if he didn't hold on tight enough, all of this would cease to exist and reveal itself to be a dream.
You lifted your head out of the crook of his neck, only to feel the heat rush back to your cheeks. Seeing as the sun was rising up already, the blush was much more evident on your cheeks.
Fred looked at you with a soft smile, it was finally sinking in. He was finally yours, and you were finally his. And though the two of you may be dense, Godric knows Fred is never going to let you forget he loves you.
"I love you so much."
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1d1195 · 2 months
Text
Most III
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Read Most here | ~ 6.1k words
From me: I might be changing this from 5 parts to 6 parts 🎉 I wanted to get further in this section, but felt like a good place to stop as well.
Warnings: I think this part is more fluffy than the last couple, but of course there's some angsty stuff hiding in here too.
Summary: There are about 200 question Harry wants answered. But he can barely ask one because she's home. She's got a lot of worries. But maybe most pressingly, is finding out if Harry's moved on.
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*Six Weeks Earlier*
Addie and Carter were arguing over the inconsistencies of the movie they were watching with what was recorded in history. Addie was obviously winning. But she thought Carter just liked to see her riled up, like to have her argue just a little because she got so excited when she did. She was so passionate, and it made Carter’s face glaze over as she showed off her expertise.
As they quietly bickered on the sofa, she was at their little kitchen table.
She was looking at apartments for rent near her mom because Addie was probably holding out on asking Carter to move in solely because of her. There weren’t a ton of options—no real surprise on her end. She didn’t want to live in the same town as her school as she thought of post-graduation and how it would be flooded with students, and she thought that parties outside her apartment wouldn’t be conducive to writing the next best-selling romance novel. (If she could muster the strength to go through such a feat.)
Her quest brought her to another search engine, and it seemed as if it was the holy grail. Reasonable rent, new building, new appliances, semi-walkable—it seemed too good to be true.
It was. Truly.
There was one issue. But only one. Her browser’s location services were majorly off course—the last time she visited the website must have stored her old info. Back when she thought she was going to have to find a place of her own because her mom was going to move away, and she was going to need a way to stay close to Harry.
The location was the life and town she left behind were part of the new building’s address. Her email pinged with a message regarding her schedule for the semester. All online classes so she could focus on working and writing as much as possible.
For a second, she forgot. Forgot all about her heartache and the pain she probably caused. He was probably over it by then. She hadn’t forgotten, but she figured three years later, he must have. But there was this pull on her chest to call him. To tell him about the place. Hi baby! I found a place for us to live. Do you like it?
With a shake of her head, she pulled herself out of it and examined the floorplan.
Addie and Carter were still debating. “—The American Revolution is constantly blown out of proportion,” she told him knowingly.
It pained her to interrupt, but it was now or never. “Do you guys think I should still jump?” She asked quietly. They both turned to her. Tilted their heads in curiosity. Almost simultaneously. Carter turned away first, pausing their movie and Addie was already crossing the room to look over her shoulder.
“Oh,” she blinked. “Oh,” she looked at the address for the apartment building. “You... you want to go back?”
Carter followed over and smiled, sat next to her, squeezed her arm. “That’s awesome,” he smiled. “Of course we—”
“What about your classes?” Addie frowned. “We’re supposed to have a year.”
“Well, I can’t keep living here when you’re days away from asking Carter to move in,” she rolled her eyes. Carter chuckled.
“I’d pick you over him,” Addie grumbled.
“Hey!”
“Oh please,” she laughed shaking her head. “I would never make you make that choice... don’t you want to have weird shower sex without me around?”
Carter smirked, his cheeks turning red slightly as he looked at Addie knowingly. “Told you that you were too loud,” he winked, kissed her cheek, and headed to the kitchen to start something for dinner.
Addie glared at him for implying it was her fault. Then she stage-whispered. “He does this thing where he turns me so that the angle—”
“Addison.”
The girls giggled. Then she turned to her laptop again. “My schedule just came through. My classes are online... there’s no apartments by my mom or aunt...” she swallowed feeling the anxiety creep up from her stomach. It moved to her chest, then her throat making her voice quiet. “I just think... if I go now... and I see that he’s moved on then I can... I can too. A reset.”
Addie stared at someone who was sure to be one of the most beautifully talented, insanely intelligent, and incrediblysuccessful authors of the 21st century. She was so honored to have her in her life and be her best friend.
Even if she was an idiot. “You really think he would have moved on?” She wondered.
She shrugged, hovered her mouse over the link to apply for the apartment. “Wouldn’t you?”
There was a pause as Addie watched her. “I’m going to run to get some ingredients,” Carter said tugging Addie toward him for a swift kiss. He grabbed his keys off the counter, then kissed the top of her hair as well. It made her blush because quite frankly, other than flirting at the restaurant, she hadn’t had physical male affection in years and even Carter’s assuring hand squeezes made her a bit flushed at times.
There was nothing at the store; he didn’t need ingredients. She and Addie had gone shopping the day before for all the food they could ever want (at least for the week). But Carter was perfect, and he knew when they needed their girl time.
Addie took the notebook that resided at the end of their faux-dinner table. She kept it there for inspiration. She never knew when the mood would strike to write something and since her best writing was often done at the table—be it essays, some of her favorite ideas, or just a grocery list where her handwriting looked nice—she liked to have something to work from when she was stuck for a thought. Addie lifted the cover slowly. Her heart took off, terrified of someone else seeing her most personal thoughts. But instead, she stayed silent, and Addie pointed to the inside cover.
A heart with her name and Harry’s written in the center took up majority of the space.
“When’s this notebook from?”
A brief pause as she tried to date it from visual and handwriting. There were so many notebooks she owned it took a moment to figure out which was which. “I was... ten,” she swallowed.
Addie nodded and went to the coffee table. She removed a cup of tea off the cover, a few hundred rings lined the blue cover as if it were truly a coaster and not one of the notebooks that would be in a museum about her famed author-life hundreds of years from now. “When’s this one from?” She asked and held out the nearly identical inside cover—another heart bearing two names.
She didn’t need much time to identify this one—it truly was her favorite. The evidence and words that reflected the first time Harry told her he loved her were written within the pages. “Sixteen.”
Then she went to the bookshelf tucked in the corner of their main room. This notebook was wedged between copies of novels she refused to part with, even though they hadn’t been read in years and they weren’t necessarily her favorites, but they were a part of her love of writing and books throughout school and home: Of Mice and Men; Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry; Perks of Being a Wallflower; The Kite Runner. Books she didn’t think of as romances but books that made her feel. The purpose of the notebook that resided among those titles was to remember those feelings even if they were painful. “This one?” She wondered.
“Eight,” she whispered. She started that one when she read her first Babysitter’s Club novel. “But I wrote in it last week too,” after she finished Where the Crawdads Sing.
There on the inside cover was the same heart and same names as every other notebook.
“What about the one on your nightstand, for your dreams?” Addie asked.
She blinked, looked at her lap. Twenty-one... I bought it last week when I filled up the one before it that I used for dreams. I liked the green and gold pattern. It reminded me of his eyes. But Addie already knew all that. There was a picture of Harry on her fridge. The two of them on his final day of school, her arm around his waist and his draped around her shoulders. They were just kids there. Unknowing that a year later she would break both their hearts. Sometimes she looked at that picture and wondered what it would be like if she didn’t leave. Maybe she would still be in the very same spot. Because Harry would have grown tired of her and their hum-drum life.
“I know I didn’t move on, though, Addie.”
“He didn’t either,” Addie put her notebook back safely between The Princess Bride and My Antonia.
“Addie... you don’t know him.”
“You don’t write fifteen notebooks worth of love poems about a man that doesn’t love you even half as much. Even if he loved you an eighth the amount that you loved him, you would still have the greatest love story ever,” Addie was confident. Watched her friend wordlessly as she processed all that.
After several more seconds of silence, she finally answered her. “Twenty-seven,” she mumbled.
Addie stared at her in awe. She loved Carter, but truly, her best friend had the greatest love story she had ever heard. “Yeah, exactly.”
Her attention went back to the available apartments. She frowned as she looked at the screen. “They’re all fifth floor,” she closed her eyes. It seemed like an obstacle set out to change her mind. “Maybe I shouldn’t do it.”
Addie was back at the table and pushing her hands out of the way. “So you don’t go on the balcony. It’ll be fine. You’re not going to live there so you can lounge and sightsee the view, anyway. You’re going so you can go back to him,” she reminded her. Not quite ignoring her fears but making sure they didn’t hold her back. Addie clicked the link for the first apartment and began typing in her information as if it were her own; she wrote that she was ready to move in within a month. “What if he hasn’t moved on? What are you going to do if you’re wrong and I’m right?”
It seemed impossible. Harry was beautiful, loving, so kind. Perfect. Why wouldn’t he have moved on?
There was this little flutter in her chest. It felt the way birthday candles flickered when everyone was singing, and the cake was brought to sit before the guest of honor. She grabbed the book at the end of the table and jotted a note down about how hope was often described as a flicker of light in the dark. When all seemed lost. But no one ever mentioned how darkness often came right after a birthday wish. How hope was really nothing more than a flameless candle.
Because of what she just wrote, she blew out a deep breath. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered as she closed the notebook again hoping her wish would come true.
*Present*
It felt like he couldn’t get back to the station fast enough. He left his coffee behind in the truck; only two sips taken from it. But it turned out it couldn’t compare to the adrenaline he felt then. He left his wallet behind in his locker. That didn’t matter, either. He didn’t need it.
Nothing else mattered.
He barely said goodbye to anyone and left his coworker to tell the rest of the shift why he was rushing to get out of the station. Normally, he took off his uniform before leaving but the thought of not seeing her, or that she was already gone had him sprinting to his car in the lot. Instead of his change of clothes he remained in his standard-issued navy-blue pants and the flame-resistant boots. Fortunately, he chose the station’s T-shirt and not the more formal button down for the day. It was the smallest bit more comfortable and slightly less ridiculous to be out and about.
Maybe she was just a figment of my imagination. He thought to himself. But his partner saw her. So unless he was projecting said figment...
She really was home.
To further his torture, his car and flow of traffic refused to go faster than the speed limit. It was utterly infuriating for his cause. He wanted nothing more than to just be there beside her. Nonetheless, he returned to where he last saw her car; turned right onto the street at the light and drove until something looked like she could be there. His heart was racing faster than it had in years. Adrenaline and excitement rushing through his body, making him sweat with anxiety. But it felt good. Like it was the best thing. It felt like he had just finished running. It was pure joy.
She was home.
There was an apartment building that seemed entirely too tall for their town. But he pulled into the lot wondering if he could identify the car that he saw on the road. He pulled into the spot beside it once he saw it, his heart in his throat. Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried not to panic. Scaring her off was his worst fear and if he did so, he might lose his mind worse than he ever had.
There was a metallic sound that hit his ears as he opened the door. Like the way a garage door opened. By the end of the lot was a storage pod, door open, and the sight of her from behind. Harry thought he was going to cry but he swallowed the emotion down. Slowly, he walked over, still terrified to scare her.
She disappeared deeper into the pod, and he heard a crunching, scraping sound. As he approached, he realized she was trying to maneuver a loveseat sofa out of a truck all by herself. There was a small dolly on the ground outside the storage pod entrance and Harry wondered if she seriously intended on lifting all the heavy stuff on her own like this.
“Fuck,” she hissed. The end of the sofa she was holding simultaneously dropped to the floor of the truck. “Stupid fucking—”
“Are you okay?” Harry asked instinctively. He went right into the storage pod as if he was moving in alongside her and was joining her because he had stepped out to grab something from his car and was just returning. It wasn’t the grand reunion he had planned, but to be fair, he hadn’t really thought about this moment in a long time.
Even the way her voice sounded when she cursed was sweeter than he could have imagined. She stuck her finger between her lips due to whatever injury she had inflicted upon herself. She shook her head with irritation. “I swear I’m a magnet for those stupid staples they put on the fabric and frame,” she inspected her finger and then pinched it into her hand. Effortlessly, he grabbed her hand. Like he hadn’t missed a day of touching her. He cupped her hand in his, inspected her finger himself. “This is like the tenth time this has happened to me.”
“I think y’need a new couch then, kitten,” he chuckled. It wasn’t his intention to just fall back into the way it was before she left. But it was without thinking—instinctive and natural. It made her heart ache to hear her pet-name from his lips. She sighed and gently tugged her hand from Harry’s and shook her hand, ridding herself of the minor pain. Harry turned and looked at the variety of furniture within the storage pod. Given he had been to her house no less than one million times, he recognized the couch he had also grown up with. The coffee table that they put their feet on when they watched movies. The table in her kitchen where he had so many dinners with her, he couldn’t count it. “Y’mum coming back?” He murmured terrified to hear the answer but desperate to know why he was seeing her in the flesh after all the years between them.
She shook her head. “No... she’s living closer to my aunt now in this tiny one-bedroom place. So, she had a ton of extra furniture. This is all hers. I’m just picking what I like best.”
His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest and jump into hers and live there, the way it was supposed to for all this time. “Y’moving back?” He tried to keep his voice even, so it didn’t sound so hopeful in case he was wrong. But he hoped. He hoped so badly.
“Yeah,” his heart swelled as she nodded shyly. But then her face contorted into a strange expression. Harry tried to place it but he hadn’t ever seen it on her face. Especially not in front of him. Was it...anxiety? About him? That seemed wrong. “Um... if that’s okay?” She asked looking at the ground briefly before gazing back at him.
Why she was asking didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have. How she could possibly think he was going to decide such a fate was beyond him. But he was immediate in his answer; anything to get rid of the weird expression on her face that made him realize she was thinking about how she needed permission to live in the same town again. He nodded quickly. “’Course!” He almost shouted it. Cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean... s’not my decision really... but... It’ll be... nice t’have y’back,” he was so worried he was going to scare her off. He was glad he wasn’t holding her hand any longer because he was sure his hands were sweating something fierce.
“Yeah? That’s good. I’m...” she took a deep breath. “I’m really glad I’m back,” she looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he loved more than anything. That gentle smile that made his heart race.
“Good,” he murmured because if he said anything more, he was worried he would cry or ruin whatever moment of bliss this was. She was real and in front of him.
“Can I help y’move this?” He asked.
“Absolutely not,” she shook her head.
He frowned and tilted his head at her. “You are obviously getting off work and I have made you do way too many furniture moves over the years and I don’t think it would be—”
Harry pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a message to his group chat with their friends. “The rest will be here in a bit.”
“No, they’re not,” she looked alarmed. “Harry, you’re joking.”
“Y’know them, kitten. They’re going t’be so excited—”
“Harry, they hate me.”
They didn’t have a lot of time alone. Harry gave them a forty-five-minute window to themselves. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her.
Professing his undying love for her after their time apart and begging for her back... he was hoping he wouldn’t manage that in forty-five minutes.
But the idea that anyone could hate her, when he was so completely, wholly, unbelievably in love with her even after three years of not speaking and nothing but memories replaying in his head... “They don’t hate you.” She looked at him nervously, like when they joined a lake party and people pressured her to jump off the plateau leading to the water. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “They missed you. They’ll be thrilled to see you.” She shrugged, unbelieving. “I promise,” he assured her and began distracting the pair of them before he said something ridiculous (even though I love you was so close to the tip of his tongue, it was absurd).
Harry took the end of the sofa that had snagged her finger. “Can y’jus’ guide it for me, kitten?” He asked. She nodded and helped get it off and onto the dolly. It was something small, but an effortless reminder that they worked so well together. They barely spoke, practically reading the other’s mind after all this time as they maneuvered the couch out of the storage pod. Once on the dolly, they made their way for the building in silence. “Elevator?” Harry asked. She nodded, continuing the comfortable quietness. “What floor?” He asked.
“Fifth,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste.
His eyebrows rose in surprise. It felt like a hug that she hadn’t got from him in a long time. The feeling that he remembered something about her. Which was ridiculous—she remembered everything about him. “Y’didn’t ask for a lower floor?” He pouted.
“There were none,” she frowned.
“M’surprised y’agreed.”
“It’s a new apartment building,” she shrugged and shook her head. She felt like an idiot for saying that to him. He probably knew it was a new building. Probably did the safety inspection himself. “Anyway, there weren’t many options around here...” It took every bit of Harry’s crumbling restraint to not invite her to move in with him right then.
He missed her. That went without saying. Worried he would still say something outlandish, likea marriage proposal, he broached a different topic. “How... how was school?”
“Really good. But I only have a semester left because I took all the summer courses,” she explained. “They’re virtual and I... I really missed it here... so I figured... I figured it was time.”
His heart leapt. Praying that he was one of the things she missed but desperately clung to his semblance of coolness. “Miss Smarty Pants,” he murmured with a smile. Then she laughed. Harry thought he was cured. All that time between them was nothing. She laughed, she smiled. She was his best friend. She seemed older, more mature, and somehow more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined. In fact, she was so pretty he felt his mouth move before he could think about it.
“Y’look beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say it as they got to the floor and she gestured down the hall for her apartment.
“That’s very sweet. I lost a lot of weight running around campus and work without a car,” she admitted. “Well... enough weight to...”
Harry sighed, shook his head. Wishing he could squeeze the insecurity out of her like a wet sponge. “Your weight has never had anything t’do with why y’were beautiful, kitten.”
The way her cheeks turned pink made him feel sick. Didn’t people compliment her while she was gone?
Fortunately, he didn’t have to suffer thinking about her lack of compliments for long. “You look great, Harry. But you always did. It was incredible seeing you on the firetruck,” she smiled fondly. “I’m... I’m really proud of you.”
The very pride she felt went directly to his heart, swelled in his chest, and bloomed warmth all through his body. Once more he tried to feign his excitement and overwhelming urge to wrap her in a hug he decided to distract himself. “Where do y’want it?” She took a deep breath and shrugged.
“I don’t know... maybe... against this wall for now, I can move it later.”
“Don’t hurt yourself, love,” he frowned as he settled it into position. He was already worried about how he would manage to invite himself back into her apartment to prevent any self-injury—especially from the staples in her furniture.
“I won’t,” she promised. “I was... going to have Lauren come by once I get settled a little bit. She could help.”
“S’nice. I see Lauren a lot at the coffee shop. M’sure she’ll be happy to see you,” he smiled sweetly.
With the sofa in place, it felt the slightest bit awkward. She worried she would do something insane, like kiss him and put her arms around him like she was his necklace. So instead, she thanked him. “Thank you,” she sighed. “For helping.”
“Of course, love. M’happy to see you. S’been...” he trailed off and shook his head. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?” He asked curiously. He also asked so he wouldn’t continue the end of his sentence about having not seen her in ages.
“Ugh,” she groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. “My storage unit is delayed naturally. There was a mix-up and it’s on it’s way cross country currently, no way to stop it so it’ll be...” she shook her head. “Ages. Until I see it. Fortunately, I have a good chunk in my car... but all my books, shelves, a ton of stuff I’ve collected since college. I don’t even have a glass to offer you a water,” she pouted.
He chuckled. “Oh... s’okay. M’fine, kitten.”
“It’s the principle of the thing, Harry.”
He smiled and looked around again. “S’nice here. The balcony is pretty.”
“I guess... but I don’t plan on going on the balcony unless necessary... this fear of mine is ridiculous. Can’t even enjoy all 804 square feet of it.” She glanced out the door to the balcony. “I don’t think we ever had a building this tall around here. The view, from what I can see, is so pretty. A new way of seeing our pretty little town like this.”
Harry’s heart fluttered erratically over the way she said we and our. But he tried not to panic and instead made himself useful. “Do y’want t’go out there t’get a better look?”
She shook her head. “No way. I’ll probably hyperventilate or throw up or something equally embarrassing.”
He snorted, smiling easily. “I’ve seen you throw up before,” he reminded her.
“I’m well aware, Harry,” she groaned. “That was so gross. Literally the worst. I don’t know why you stayed.”
“I agree it was the worst, but because I thought y’were dying. Not because y’were gross or anything,” he shrugged. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” he moved next to her at the window and unlocked the slider, pushed it out of the way. She watched him step over the little threshold and held his hand out to her.
It was the reason she couldn’t go on a roller coaster by herself or jump off the rope swing at the lake like all their friends did in school. She couldn’t help her mom hang up Christmas lights on the house and always paid Harry to do it for her. Her fear of heights felt irrational. Only a small percentage feared it. Harry was always quick to remind her that the small percentage still accumulated to hundreds of millions of people.
But even still, he held his hand out, waiting patiently and expectantly. Somehow, it was the easiest thing in the world to trust him. The feeling was electric, holding his hand. It was as if no time had passed at all. As if she had said ‘see you tomorrow’ instead of, ‘it’s too far for us.’
He squeezed her hand as she took cautious steps onto the balcony. A measly hand hold. Harry had touched and kissed parts of her that would never see a drop of sunlight but somehow the way he held her hand was more intimate. His palm pressed to hers, warm and familiar. His thumb stroked the back of her hand. It was perfect. It was slow and felt so safe. It was unreal how easily it was to revert to the time before. Harry was there, so she was going to be okay.
“Watch y’step,” he said softly. “S’a little uneven there,” he scuffed his shoe on the floor. “S’probably a support beam,” he explained. She nodded.
“I’ll have to put a little patio rug out here and a table and chairs so no one trips.”
“That sounds so cute. Can y’put a grill out here?”
“A grill?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about that pound cake bread y’like with the strawberries? Or jus’ marshmallows.”
She smiled eager to hear more about what he remembered and what came to mind so readily. “Uh... I have to read the lease agreement. I’m not sure. Probably a fire hazard. Wouldn’t want you rushing down here because of me,” she giggled.
He smiled and squeezed her hand. He glanced back over the railing and admired the view for a moment. “M’not sure about the whole town, but a good chunk of it.”
“Is that the fire station way back that way,” she pointed and then put her free hand on the railing. Harry stood beside her, following the direction of where she pointed, proud that she was able to stand there without fear it seemed. It made him happy she still felt safe with him. “Yeah, I think so... Mum’s house is...” he pointed the other way. “Y’see the blue house? Four streets back from that.”
“Cool,” she grinned. “Do you live with her still?”
He chuckled. “No... I live...” he squinted a bit and pointed back towards the fire station. “You see the shopping plaza?” He asked. She nodded. “Two streets behind it. The small one.”
“It’s cute... I think,” she giggled again which made Harry chuckle quietly. “I like the trees.”
“I want t’put a hammock in and—” he released her hand to speak and gesture what his plan was with two of the trees in his yard. But she gasped the second he released her hand. Nearly tripped as she stumbled back away from the railing. Harry caught her around the waist before she could fall on the uneven ground. “Hey, careful—”
“Don’t let go,” she reminded him turning toward him slightly but trying to maintain as much distance as she could; given he was holding her around the waist, and she refused to let go. It wouldn’t be fair to him to get too cozy in his arms the way she would have a few years prior.
“Oh,” he swallowed. His heart raced with nerves and anxiety. Part of him felt shame for not realizing what that would do to her. He should have known. He knew how nervous she got about heights. Especially from the level they were on. “M’sorry, kitten.”
She swallowed; her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “No, I’m sorry. I was just... I don’t—”
“No, s’okay,” he promised. “I won’t let go,” he assured her and took her hand again (even though he would have preferred to have her stay in his embrace). “I wasn’t thinking.”
She bit the inside of her lip. “It’s not your fault.”
“No, but m’sorry. Didn’t mean t’scare you, love.”
Harry was way too nice. If he was smart, he would have pushed her off the side of the balcony for making him so sad the last few years. “It’s really okay, Harry. I know you didn’t—”
“But I should have—”
“Harry,” she squeezed his hand silencing his sentence. “You don’t need to apologize. I promise. I’m just nervous, you know.”
It was quiet and Harry sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
They could have stayed on that balcony for the rest of their lives if it meant Harry was going to hold her hand and they would stay rooted in that spot. They were silent and watched their not-so-little town, filled with bustling cars and people. “It feels bigger,” she whispered.
“Well, y’did go t’a school with the population of sixteen people and a moose.” The laughter that came from her mouth was like pure magic. Harry swore he never heard anything sound so sweet.
Once they both stopped giggling, she wanted to know more about his hammock and what he planned to do with his yard and other things. She wanted to hear about his career and school and everything in between. As she was about to ask, Harry saw the cars pull into the lot.
Sarah and Eleanor in one vehicle, the boys in the other. “C’mon,” he murmured and pulled her back inside. Silently, they made their way down in the elevator to the parking lot once more. The five of them were grouped together near the back of the two cars, huddled together conferring.
“I bet it’s a creepy shrine. Like he’s going to do a séance to get in touch with her,” Louis suggested.
“She’s not dead, Louis,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried that he’s finally gone off the deep end,” she frowned.
“Well, it can’t be worse than him asking Lauren where she is all the time,” Sarah grumbled bitterly. Mitch put a hand on her back and gently rubbed the bitter tension from her muscles soothingly.
“Who knows, but he asked for us to bring him pizza, so that’s a good sign, right?” Niall asked.
“They’re going to hate me,” she whispered under her breath as they approached quietly.
“Shh,” he squeezed her hand.
“Can I just say that I’m really worried we’re going to have to call the authorities about him?” Louis asked releasing a massive breath, like it was painful to say the words out loud.
“No, I was thinking the same thing,” Sarah nodded in agreement. “It’s right around the time she left and you know how he gets—”
“The first year was the worst,” Mitch reminded everyone.
“You guys really thought I would text you and tell y’where t’find m’body?” Harry asked. They all turned to the pair of them. Their words disappeared into the air. Silence spread between all of them.
“Holy shit,” Louis whispered.
“Pretty weird of him to ask you to bring pizza if that were the case,” she swallowed nervously. For her whole life these people were her best friends and she abandoned them as much as she abandoned Harry, their town, and everything that was good. She looked at the five pairs of eyes that were unblinking as they processed what was happening.
Niall dropped the pizza. “Oh my God,” he was first. He broke into a quick stride and wrapped his arms around her the way Harry dreamed of doing for the last forty-five minutes. He kissed the side of her head and Harry was just so overwhelmed with jealousy he tried to focus his attention on anything but the way he felt utter dread seeing Niall hold and kiss her the way he had ached to do so for the last three years. “How are you, princess?” He asked.
“I’m okay, how are you?”
“Out of the way!” Eleanor hip-checked Niall before he could answer and wrapped her arms around her the same way that Niall had. Further fueling how jealous Harry was. “Make yourself useful, Niall. Order more pizza!”
“I don’t even have plates or enough seats to have you all in and—”
“Did you think we would get all fancy?” Sarah asked and gently pushed Eleanor aside to get her own hug. “We’ll sit on the floor and eat off the boxes.” Mitch was next and murmured something in her ear that Harry wanted to know desperately, solely because her cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink so much.
Louis was last. Because as hurt as Harry was, Louis was a close second. All of them mourned for their friend in their own ways—even though she wasn’t truly gone. But naturally they put their own grief aside for Harry. But she was back now. Sure, Harry was ready to forgive her instantly, but Louis would be a harder sell it seemed. “Hi,” she whispered. Louis looked at her pensively, making her gulp.
“Hi,” his voice was curt and filled with distrust.
She looked at the ground. “Pretty crazy about Messi, hmm?” She looked back up at him.
“Don’t tempt me, darling,” he grumbled and finally pulled her into a hug. He kissed the side of her face and held her for a long time. Louis also whispered something in her ear, and she nodded against him.
“Well,” Eleanor clapped her hands together. “I was wondering why Harry said we needed to wear comfy clothes. Point us in the right direction, babe. Let’s get you moved back home.”
“You okay?” Sarah asked quietly, taking up the rear with Harry as they moved toward her storage pod. Peppering her with questions and falling back into old jokes and laughter within seconds.
Harry nodded, his heart finally started to feel whole. “Yeah," she turned back and met his gaze with a gentle smile. A smile that made him melt and feel like he could fly if she asked. "Finally.”
--
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gurugirl · 11 months
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Homewrecker | bfd!harry
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best friends dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship
Summary: The one where you and Harry finally come clean to everyone. Featuring an angry Fae, a spiteful soon-to-be ex wife, divorce terms, and lots of tears.
Word Count: 7360
Warning: 18+ only, mature content, age gap, talk of divorce, cheating, angst
Best Friend's Dad!harry Masterlist
You were tense.
And it wasn’t just that. It was that you could tell Harry was tense too. He was quiet. It made you nervous. Made you wonder if he was regretting his decision. He was loving when you’d first boarded the plane. But once it landed, he hardly looked at you. You were dropped off at your apartment by a taxi but were surprised when Harry asked the driver to wait. He helped you bring your suitcase up to your door and gave you a quick kiss before telling you he was going to have the taxi drop him off at his house so he could get his car. He told you he’d be back at your place in a couple of hours but he wouldn’t tell you where he was going. You weren’t sure he’d really come back.
You felt sick. You felt terrified you were losing him. But of course, you never deserved him in the first place. He was happily married with a great career and a beautiful daughter with a good head on her shoulders. Life was good for him. And would have been for years to come. If it hadn’t been for you. You were a homewrecker.
You didn’t have the energy to unpack your suitcase so you sat down and took a deep breath as you dared to look through all your messages and listen to the voicemails. You had envisioned checking your messages with Harry by your side, comforting you and you comforting him, but since he wasn’t there you did it alone.
The progression of anger from Fae was easy to see. She first left a voicemail and she sounded more concerned than angry at that point. She was calm.
Then it was a text. And another that could be read as mad. Then the one you read at the airport where you knew without a doubt that she was upset. And then to her last series of text messages sent Saturday morning.
Your silence is telling. So is his. I can’t believe either of you would do this. I hope I’m wrong. I’m hoping this is all a mistake and that it’s a coincidence that you and my dad have gone AWOL at the same time. But if this turns out to be real, Y/n? I don’t think I could ever speak to you or my dad again. I know you’d feel the same if I did this to you.
You sat your phone down and stared at your TV that you hadn’t turned on yet. It was impossible to process what you’d just read. It was shocking. You knew it was coming but to see it in a text was jarring.
It took you a few minutes to lift your phone up and listen to your mother’s voicemail.
Hey honey. I got a call from Fae and she’s really concerned about you and… her dad? She said she needs to get a hold of you. Will you call her when you get this? Or have Harry call her?
And, Y/n, I just want to say too, that no matter what, honey. I love you. You can always reach out to me if you need help or want to talk. Your father and I won’t judge you even if it’s true. I love you. Call me after you call Fae.
Closing your eyes you lay down on your side. Your mother even knew. Fae must have called her and told her everything. It hurt. But it was deserved. You deserved the hurt and shame. You’d done some very bad things. Your mother knowing was the least of your problems. Your biggest problem was that you were a homewrecker. You’d damaged a family because you were selfish.
You hit the call button and put your phone to your ear, keeping your eyes closed.
“Y/n. I was starting to get worried. Are you okay?” Your mother’s words were rushed.
“I’m fine, Mom. I’m so sorry about this. I would have called you sooner but I was trying to avoid my phone for a couple of days.”
“What are you avoiding, Y/n? Is it true? You and Fae’s dad?”
You swallowed thickly, “Yeah. It’s true.”
The line was silent for a moment. You waited to let your mom respond when she was ready. It was a lot to hear. You understood her silence.
“Okay. Well… you know I love you, honey. I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re an adult so you get to make these decisions and I trust that you never meant to hurt anyone.”
“Of course not. I never thought,” you felt a tear slip down your cheek, “… that this would happen. It was never meant to get this far. But,” you pushed yourself up to sit, “I fell in love. And now it’s too late. And we have to face the music. And,” you sniffled as you pulled your phone out to look at the time and then put it back to your ear, “I don’t even know where Harry is right now so it all feels like it’s about to just explode on us–“
“Y/n, do you want me to come over?”
You shook your head, “No. No, that’s okay. I’m sorry. This is just so hard.”
At that moment your front door opened and you stood up to see Harry walking in.
“Mom, I’ll call you back, okay? I love you,” you hung up after your mom told you she loved you too.
You tossed your phone on the couch and stepped toward Harry quietly, unsure of how he was feeling. Unsure of how to approach.
Harry took one long stride toward you and wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. You draped your arms around his middle and just let him squeeze. You were glad he’d come back so soon. You thought he was going to be gone for at least another hour. You also thought it was possible he wouldn’t return.
He loosened his embrace and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t like how it felt to be away from you. I just needed to go and drive. I don’t really know why. I started to panic,” he spoke quietly as you listened, “When I was dropped off at the house I got into my car and the further away I drove the further away from you I felt and I didn’t like that. I had to turn around and drive back to you.”
You tilted your head back to look up at him, “Are you having second thoughts? Do you regret this?”
Harry brought his hands up to your face and looked down at you intently, “God, baby, no. When I got into that taxi I wasn’t even really thinking. I don’t know why I did it that way, leaving like that. I just… I didn’t mean for it to seem like I needed to be away from you. I don’t want that at all.”
You nodded and it felt like relief to hear him say that. “I was worried. Thought you’d suddenly realized this was a big mistake and you couldn’t go through with it anymore.”
He rocked you softly, stepping from foot to foot to sway, “Absolutely not. It’s me and you, baby.”
“We should text them back. Let them know something. Maybe we can go to them? Tell them everything? I just want to get this over with now, Harry.” You couldn’t handle being secretive with Fae or anyone anymore. You knew this was going to happen one way or another and if you could just finally say it then maybe the worst would be over.
He sighed and let go of you, keeping your hands in his, “Okay. We’ll let them decide when it happens. But I’ll text Fae and her mother.”
You both sat in silence on your couch as you individually texted Fae. Harry texted his wife first.
You didn’t know how to word the text. But you settled on something simple.
I’m so sorry. I feel awful. I want to talk to you, though, whenever you’re ready.
Harry’s phone rang after he sent his first text and he looked at you with worry before holding the phone up to his ear.
“Hello?”
You watched him stand up and pace in silence as he listened to his wife. He ran a hand through his hair and then suddenly stopped and looked down as he closed his eyes.
“Yes. I understand.”
He looked at you and gave you a weak smile. A sad smile and you returned the expression.
“No. Look… don’t say that. She’s not. I think if we can just talk in person this will be better.”
He shook his head and scowled as he began to pace again, “I said don’t say that about her,” his voice was more urgent. Almost angry.
Your phone dinged. Fae had responded.
I’m coming over.
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at Harry. Your natural inclination was to tell him to leave because that had been the routine since the beginning. Hiding that he’d been with you. But now that everything was out in the open…
“Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow then... Yes. I know. I am sorry,” he looked at his screen and realized she’d hung up. “Fuck.” He spoke under his breath.
You stood up and cleared your throat, “Fae is coming over.”
Harry looked weary. He nodded and went into your kitchen and pulled down two glasses, “Water?” He asked without turning to look at you.
“Yes, please.”
You watched him fill the glasses with your water pitcher and then handed you a glass as he gulped down half of his in one go.
“We should think about how to tell her. She’ll be here soon.” You reiterated, keeping your distance. Everything felt so foreign. So strange.
Harry placed his glass down and looked at you for a moment before responding, “We’ll just tell her, Y/n. It’s not going to be good but we’ll be honest and tell her what we’ve done. It’s all we can do,” he pushed his hip from the counter and took your free hand, bringing it up to his chest, “I love you. Okay?”
You nodded, “I love you too, Harry.”
When you sat your glass down Harry bent at his knees and lifted you up to the counter and then fit himself in between your legs, putting his palms over your thighs, “I just need you with me, Y/n. Okay?”
You nodded and put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and pulled them around his neck to bring him in for a soft little kiss.
You two stayed like that until there was a knock at your door and Harry helped you down from your spot. He followed behind you as you pulled your door open to see Fae standing there. She looked behind you to her dad and then back at you. Her expression was unreadable.
“Come in.” You gestured to her and moved out of the doorway. She walked past you and her father and into your living room.
“So, it’s true. What the fuck?” She shook her head and looked between you and Harry.
“I’m so sorry this happened,” Harry spoke first. You could hear the small waver in his voice as if he were about to cry, which made you tear up instantly as you watched Fae’s face.
She sat down on the small bench near your records and looked directly at you, “I can’t believe you did this. To me and my mom? To him? Why?”
Oh shit. Here it was. You were being blamed for it all. As you should. You knew what you’d done was disgusting.
You moved to sit down on your couch, pulling your hand out of Harry’s. You needed to sit.
“I can’t believe I did it either. I don’t know why. I’m sorry!” You hiccupped as your tears fell. A pathetic girl. Harry sat next to you and you felt his warm hand on your back as you repeated that you were sorry.
“Mom didn’t deserve this,” Fae looked at her dad, “She’s been so good to us and to you. She was really blindsided by this you know? You hurt her. You cheated on her. I never would have taken you for a cheater.”
Your sniffles and harsh breaths were obnoxious. You didn’t deserve to be feeling sad for yourself. After all, you’d done all the hurting and now people were suffering because of you.
“I know, Fae. Your mother has been wonderful to us. I made a mistake and…” his hand moved up and down your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry this happened. I didn’t expect any of it. It just…” he took a breath, “It just happened and now I’m in love. We’re in love.”
Fae laughed sardonically and you looked at her. She hadn’t shed a single tear.
“Yeah right. Do you know how ridiculous you sound, Dad? In love? With her? She’s my age? What could you possibly have in common with Y/n? Do you two bond over talking about me? Because that’s your only link. Like… I don’t get it at all.”
“We just get along, Fae. Somethings can’t really be explained–“
“Oh, the fuck they can’t. You two had sex and now you think you’re in love. You’re both pathetic. Especially you, Y/n. You broke up a happy marriage because you were selfish and you outright lied to me–“
“Hey, this is my fault, Fae. I’m the one who–“
You put your hand on his knee, “No. Fae’s right. I’m pathetic. I’m a homewrecker. I deserve all of the blame.”
Fae stood up, “Oh the martyr. I see… Yes… Will it make you feel better to know how much I really hate you? Is that what you want? Well,” she laughed, “I’m not giving you that satisfaction. Oh no…” she paced in front of your coffee table as she looked from her father to you, “The part that hurts so much, and the part that I hope you take with you and that eats at you and keeps you up at night is that hating you hurts me. You were my best friend. You and I have done everything together. I trusted you and loved you like you were my sister. When my mom told me what she found out I told her it couldn’t be true. That you would never. I gave you a chance to come clean to me but you lied to my face. I won’t ever forgive you but that doesn’t mean that feels good. It hurts to hate you. You betrayed me.”
You sat in silence. In shame.
Fae pointed at Harry, “And you. You let this happen. Mom is broken. She’s absolutely torn up over this. You blindsided us both and you’re no longer my father.”
“Please, don’t say that Fae, I love you,” Harry stood up.
“Don’t come near me. I don’t want your apologies or your tears. I’m not giving you the chance to make amends or say your peace. I don’t want it,” she scoffed and looked up toward the ceiling to pull her tears back into her eyes. “Mom said this didn’t mean you were abandoning me. That you still love me,” she looked at him and stopped pacing, “I don’t care if you choose her or whatever,” she gestured toward you, “I don’t even want you as my father anymore. You make me sick. What you did is unforgivable. Even if you did leave her and beg me for another chance to be in my life I don’t want it. My life is better without you now that I know who you are.”
Harry sat down and put his head in his hands and began to cry. You could see his shoulders shaking as he let out a strangled sob.
She looked away from Harry and took a breath. You could see she was acting tough. You knew her well. You imagined that the moment she walked out of your apartment she’d finally allow herself to cry.
“You both deserve each other. I hope you have a miserable life together. Actually…” she looked at you, “I take that back. I hope he cheats on you and breaks your heart the way you broke mine. I hope that all this was a waste for both of you. That you don’t even wind up together in the end. Because that’s what you’re hoping for, isn’t it?”
Her glower was intense. Scary.
You opened your mouth, “Fae, I’m–“
“I don’t fucking want to hear it, Y/n. I just wanted to come over here so I could tell you in person how I feel about you,” she laughed and looked at Harry who was still trying to reign in his tears, “I actually didn’t think you’d be here. But I guess this makes it easier. So I only have to do this once.”
She picked up her purse and carried herself quickly to your door but you ran after her just as she stepped outside, “Fae, please! I never wanted to hurt anyone!”
She turned to look at you, tears glazing her eyes, “I know you didn’t. But you did anyway, and it was selfish. Just wait for your turn. He’ll find someone younger in a few years and you’ll be all alone.”
When she walked away you felt Harry’s hand on your shoulder and then his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you into him. You both watched until Fae was out of sight and wondered if that would be it. Wondered if she’d ever come around or if maybe she was right.
He was warm against you. Comforting. “Baby you know she’s just speaking out of anger because she’s hurt. I’m not leaving you. That’s never gonna happen.”
You swallowed and nodded as he spoke quietly into your ear. Surely she was speaking out of anger to hurt you because she was hurt. You could see that. And that was deserved. You should hurt. But part of what she said did strike something in you. Because he’d left his own wife for you. For someone younger. And he probably never imagined he’d cheat on his wife just like at that moment you figured he never imagined he’d leave you either.
“You believe me, right, Y/n?”
You nodded shallowly.
Harry let out a deep breath as he pulled you gently back inside your apartment and turned you to face himself. His eyes were red and his face was splotchy from crying, “Look at me,” he cupped your face softly, “I’m mad for you. I swear on everything,” he ran his thumb under your right eye where a new tear fell, “I’ll never leave you. I love you. This is different, Y/n. God, I never want you to feel that way.”
It wasn’t like you wanted to leave him so you wouldn’t and if he broke your heart eventually, well you also deserved that. Especially after everything you’d done to Fae and her mother…
Harry’s nose touched yours, “Please, Y/n. I can tell you’re upset about what she said. I need to know you trust me and that we’re okay.”
You lifted your arms to wrap around his middle and looked at him, “Whatever happens I’m not going anywhere. I just…” you blinked and grasped the material of his shirt tight, “I fucked up big time. We did. I wasn’t prepared to hear her say any of that. I knew she’d be upset. I feel like this is what I deserve. None of this is okay.”
Harry cradled the back of your head and pressed his forehead into yours gently, “I fucked up, Y/n. I did that. I know what’s been done isn’t good… but you and I can be okay. Being with you is like nothing I’ve ever had. I’ll do everything I can to prove to you how much I love you and how much I want you every day if you need it.”
You tilted your head back and moved to kiss him, pushing your lips against his. You didn’t want him feeling like he’d lost you too. You just needed to sort out your thoughts and it was hard to verbalize everything in that moment.
Harry and Fae’s mother had planned to meet at their house in the morning. He was already making a list of things he’d be packing and bringing to your apartment, knowing she’d be taking the house, “Are you sure it’s okay if I bring all this? I can get a storage unit or something.”
You stood behind him and looked down at his laptop screen. He was sitting at your small kitchen table as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “It’s fine, Harry. We’ll figure out everything later. We should get some sleep. It’ll be an early morning and we want to go in with clear minds.” Harry turned to look at you as he placed a hand over your forearm, “Baby, I really think it should just be me there. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”
You moved and pulled a chair up next to him so you could look at him directly, “I really think I should be there with you. At least for support, Harry. I’m an adult. I can handle it. I don’t want you having to do it alone.”
He shook his head and took your hands in his, “Y/n, it’s going to go a whole lot better if you’re not there. She’s not going to want to see you. That’ll just make her angrier. I’m asking you to please stay here while I sort out everything with her.”
Harry had told you right at the beginning that he was going but you insisted you wanted to be there too. To face his wife and be his support.
“Harry…” you said his name in a plea.
He dipped in and kissed you, “I love you so much. But I need to do this part by myself. Okay? I love that you want to help and be there with me and you don’t know how much that means to me. But this is different. I can’t bring you with me for this. You can be my comfort and support when I get back afterward.”
You figured you didn’t have much of a choice. But you hated to have Harry go it alone. If you thought dealing with Fae was devastating, you couldn’t imagine the scene with her mother. The woman whose heart he broke. Who he cheated on.
Harry held you close that night as you softly caressed his chest and kissed his shoulders and pecs. Sleep didn’t really find either of you for long enough to feel like you’d rested. You had bursts of shut-eye but then were woken up with a panicky feeling. And it was the same for Harry. But being together and feeling the warmth of one another felt a lot better than waking up alone.
And you both were wide awake at 5 am, cuddled together under your blankets, limbs tangled.
“Are you awake?” You whispered as softly as possible. You assumed he was because of his breathing pattern and the way he shifted every now and then.
“I am. Are you okay, baby?” He scooted in closer and pulled you into his chest so you were practically laying on him.
You couldn’t see his face in the dark but you smiled at how he always seemed to need you close.
“I’m okay. I’m here with you so I’m okay.” You laid your head against his chest and he cradled the back of your head. You could feel the slow rhythm of his heart.
“Want some coffee? Thinking of getting up to make some. Not sure I can sleep. Have to be up in an hour anyway.”
Coffee at 5:15 am was not your thing but for Harry, you’d do it. And it was also going to be impossible for you to sleep as well. You were full of nerves and wondering what was next.
You had to work that afternoon, unfortunately. You wanted to call off but you were worried about losing your job. You took Saturday off when you were scheduled to work and doing it again on Monday would be risking too much.
“So what? If you lose your job you can look for something else. Maybe there’s a good job in advertising or marketing or something. Use your degree, Y/n. I can take care of you until you find something.”
You shook your head, “You don’t think I’ve been looking? For a year I’ve been putting in resumes and the only few spots that would even consider me without any experience wouldn’t pay as well as the tips I make at the restaurant. It’s hard to transition from making really good tips to a salaried job that pays less where I might work more hours.”
“I know you’ve been looking, baby. I’m not saying you haven’t. I’m just saying I’ll take care of you until you find something perfect.”
“I don’t want to have you taking care of me, though. That’s not fair. We’ve already been through a lot. And just imagine what everyone would think… If I quit my job after everyone finds out we’ve been having an affair and you pay all my bills... I’ll not only be a homewrecker I’ll be a gold digger or something. One awful scorn on me is quite enough,” you chuckled. But it wasn’t actually funny. You tried to find humor in the situation but the reality of it was awful.
“We can’t help what people will think of us but we’ll talk about all this later. I don’t want you to worry. Okay?”
“You think you’ll be back before I need to leave for work?” You ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. It was getting long and his curls were just begging to be touched.
Harry nodded, “I think so. I hope so. If not, I’ll be here waiting for you when you get off. I’ve got some stuff to do at the office today as well but shouldn’t take long. And I’ve got your key,” he grinned at you.
Harry left after giving you a smoldering kiss. You two hadn’t been intimate since the morning before when you left Quebec and when he grabbed you and spun you around to kiss you goodbye you pulled him in by his collar to keep his mouth against yours, then he had his arms around your back and you both had to force yourselves apart so he could go.
And on any normal day, you’d climb back into bed to sleep for a few more hours. But you knew you couldn’t sleep. So, you had to find something to keep you occupied while Harry told his wife everything.
.           .           .
When Harry pulled into the driveway his wife’s car was there already. He took a few deep breaths. He knew it was not going to be pretty.
The house smelled of coffee when he opened the door. It almost felt comforting. Familiar. Except that the circumstances were anything but.
He called to his wife as he sat his briefcase down on the couch and moved into the kitchen where he found her on her cell phone speaking to someone. She glanced at him and turned her back.
Harry noticed right away that she looked sad. Her face was puffy and her skin looked sallow.
The pot of coffee was full but he couldn’t even think of putting anything else into his stomach at that moment. The acid in the coffee was already making him feel a bit unwell. Not just the acid. But he felt unwell for what was about to come.
He sat at the kitchen table and silently inhaled again.
“Well, he’s here now, so I’ll let you go. I’ll call you later, okay?” He heard only the last part of her conversation as she hung up and kept her back to him. He watched her look out the window over the sink into their backyard in silence.
“I think you should start, Harry. Start with how long you’ve been seeing her. How it happened,” she turned to look at him but stayed near the counter.
He nodded and looked down at his hands, “6 months, give or take.” He looked up at her and her fierce gaze could have sliced him in half.
She waved her hand, “Go on. Let’s get it out.”
He swallowed, “I don’t know why I did it. I was happy. Really, I was. I… she and I got close and then I went to her place and that’s how it started.”
“So you instigated?”
Nodding his head he looked at his wife, “I did. I knew she had a crush on me and I fed into it.”
She nodded and walked toward him to sit at the table across from him.
“And it wasn’t supposed to go that far. But I’ve found myself falling for her.”
The laugh from his wife was unexpected. Harry watched as she shook her head in disbelief, “You’ve fallen for her? Y/n? Who is the same age as your daughter? Oh, I bet that’s an interesting dynamic. Does she know you fucked me while you were fucking her?”
He clenched his jaw and felt like he’d throw up, “We didn’t really talk about that much at the beginning. I’m sure she knows.”
“Caressa told me she saw you drop her off. Y/n, the stupid thing, told her you were her boyfriend.”
“Hey. Stop. Don’t do that. Don’t call her stupid. She’s no–“
“What? You don’t like it when women are being a little immature? You are dating a woman half your age for Christ’s sake. Seems like something you’d be into.”
Harry folded his lips into his mouth to keep himself quiet. He’d have to deal with her being a little petty. She had every right to lash out.
“Anyway, I was quite shocked to learn of it. And at first, we thought there was no way. Caressa might have seen someone else that looked like you with a car like yours. But then… too many coincidences, you know? Plus I’d already suspected you were cheating.”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Why? Why would you do this to us? Was it that bad?”
Harry shook his head and reached for his wife’s hand but she pulled away before he could touch her, “No. Of course not. You’ve been incredible. I got selfish and fucked up. And then I got in too deep.” He moved his hand back into his lap.
She nodded, “You did fuck up. That’s true. How many other women have you cheated on me with?”
Harry was taken aback, “None! Oh my god, no. I never… this is the only time.”
“I see. And of all people, it had to be her? Fae’s best friend, Harry?”
“I know. It’s so messy.”
“Have you had a thing for her since she was a teenager?”
He shook his head, “No. Fae’s 22nd birthday was the first time I really found her attractive.”
She looked to the corner of the room as she sipped her coffee and then pinned her eyes back on Harry, “So for 2 1/2, nearly 3 years you’ve been lusting after Fae’s best friend?”
“No. I found her attractive… but never…” he took a breath, “No it was only recent.”
That was a lie. He had actually been lusting after you for that length of time. Of course, the feelings grew as you got closer and spent time together alone. When you would visit him and you’d chat and have lengthy hugs in private… even though the actual affair had only been for 6 months, you both had been dancing around your feelings for much longer. But he didn’t want his wife to know that. Didn’t feel that was necessary information.
“My terms for the divorce are simple. I’ll keep the house but you’ll pay the mortgage and insurance, and repairs that might come up. Once the house is paid off it’ll be in my name and I’ll be able to sell it or keep it, my choice. I’ll keep my car, which you’ll also pay the insurance for, and I’ll be asking for 50% of your salary as alimony. I also expect 50% of any of your bonuses. You’ll pay for my health insurance and cover anything I need above the copay. Dental too,” she took another sip of her coffee as she kept her eyes on Harry, “You’ll cover my cellphone, internet… basically all of my bills like you do currently. I am not going to suffer and live a more difficult lifestyle because you and Y/n want to fuck around and play pretend. Understood?”
Harry nodded. He knew he’d be giving a lot to his wife.
“Our shared brokerage, savings, and retirement will be 100% mine–“
Harry put his hand up, “Now, wait. Hold on. I can give you most of it but not all. Come on. Be reasonable.”
She shook her head, “The moment you stuck your prick in someone else was the moment I lost my ability to be reasonable with you. It’s mine. And I guarantee that the judge will agree once we get to the nitty-gritty. I’ve looked into it. You’ve cheated on me and I’ve been a supportive wife who also contributed to our savings and retirement during all the years I worked.”
His brokerage account was worth millions. And while his wife had contributed to savings and retirement years ago when she was still working, all the money and earnings from the brokerage were his own. He put that money there, not her.
“I don’t think that’s fair. You didn’t put a dime into the brokerage account. I’ll give you all of our savings, half the retirement, and half of the brokerage. That’s more than enough for you for the rest of your life. Not to mention half my salary and bonuses, the house…”
“I don’t care what’s fair. And yeah, I could live a very comfortable life on half the brokerage and retirement alone but I don’t want you to live a comfortable life, see? I’m not here to make things comfortable for anyone but me and my daughter. You and Y/n can go to hell.”
Harry bit his tongue and looked down at the table. He would need to get a lawyer. 50% of everything plus extras was fine. But all of the brokerage and retirement?
“Well, we’ll figure out terms with lawyers present,” he looked at her as he spoke. It was the first time he’d felt so angry with her ever. And even if she was justified, it still felt unfair.
She laughed, “Yes, we will. In fact, I’m meeting with mine this afternoon to get all the paperwork ready for you to sign. Divorce papers are in the works. And since I’m the one filing first I get dibs. You’ll see.”
Harry stood up from the table and paced the kitchen slowly. He knew this would kill him financially but he somehow just didn’t expect she’d want all of his brokerage. That was his nest egg he’d been adding to since before he ever met his wife. It was his. He’d fight for that one.
“What time this afternoon?” He looked at her.
“2 pm. You aren’t invited. You’ll be all caught up with everything once we get the paperwork drafted. My lawyer will send everything to yours. Oh, which, by the way, you should send me your lawyer’s contact info.”
He didn’t have a lawyer at that moment, which in hindsight was dumb of him. He should have been more prepared for all of this. A lawyer was just more money down the drain. He’d be paying his own plus hers, he was sure of it.
“Fuck,” he spoke under his breath and ran his hands over his face.
Harry packed his things into his car and gathered items he planned to take with him. Of course, his wife watched everything he took and told him what he could and couldn’t take.
“But this was a gift from Fae. Let me at least have this,” he pleaded. It was a framed photo of Fae and Harry. The frame was homemade from Fae for Father’s Day when she was 11. He kept it in his office for all the years he had it.
“Fae doesn’t want you to have that. Leave it here.”
“You didn’t even know it was there. You probably forgot that it even existed. Come on, don’t do this.”
She didn’t budge.
Harry had expected the conversation with his wife to be much different. He thought there would be a lot of tears and apologies and that she would scream at him and throw a fit but she was calm and prepared. She was cold and uncaring, though she did throw an insult or two. He could tell she was upset and that she had been crying before he arrived but she did not act the way he thought she would.
It all took much longer than he hoped. You had already been at work by the time he dropped his things off at your apartment. His apartment now too. He told you he’d be paying his part and wanted to get on the lease. But he planned on paying the rent in full. He didn’t want to be a burden to you.
And before he went by his office at work he stopped at the restaurant to see you. He knew it might be a bad idea but he needed to see you. Just to look at you and tell you he loved you and make sure you were okay. He felt bad that he hadn’t come back before you’d left.
Caressa saw him first as he walked in and the hostess greeted him.
“Oh, Harry. How nice to see you,” she crossed her arms as she walked up to him, “I’m guessing you’re here to see your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Caressa. Uh, just here to see Y/n. I wanted to tell her something really quick. I won’t keep her long.” He felt himself flush in embarrassment. He wasn’t particularly close to Caressa but he’d known her for years. She and her husband were part of his friend group. Were. He was certain they wouldn’t be interested in hanging out with him again.
“Sure. She’s busy right now but have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
He waited for fifteen minutes before getting up and peeking into the dining room. He half doubted that Caressa told you he was there. She probably wanted to make a point or something.
When he spotted you walking away from a table he stepped in and called your name quietly.
You turned and your eyes widened in surprise but you smiled and mouthed “I’ll be right back.”
You hadn’t expected to see him show up at your work but the relief that washed over you was immense. You were so worried about Harry and wondered how the talk had gone with Fae’s mother. Hoped nothing had changed between you and him.
You quickly made your way to the front where Harry was and grabbed his hand into yours, “How did it go?”
He sighed and you could see it hadn’t been a good conversation just by his expression, “I’ll tell you later. But, she knows. Everyone knows now. She’s getting divorce paperwork ready,” he squeezed your hand, “I just wanted to see your face. Needed to see you.”
You smiled and quickly kissed his lips, “I’m glad you came in. I was really worried.”
“You don’t need to worry, baby. Ever. Okay? I love you. I just… couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”
That was all you needed. His reassurance. The rest of your shift felt lighter. You were still burdened by the reality and the heaviness of everything but at least he came to see you. At least he needed it as much as you did.
When you got home later Harry was there. He was only wearing his grey sweatpants and he was in the kitchen cooking something.
You placed your purse on the kitchen table and he turned around and sat the wooden spoon on the counter before he met you in the middle of the kitchen to bring you in for a hug.
He said nothing. He just held you for a moment and it felt regenerative to be in his arms. You melted a tiny bit into him and suddenly, without even meaning for it to happen you began to cry.
“Oh, honey…” he whispered as he pulled you into your living room to your couch. You sat down with him and he kept his arms around you.
You couldn’t stop the tears. You couldn’t really think much about your situation while you were at work or you’d have cried in front of your customers. And you definitely didn’t want Caressa to see you in tears. She knew too much already.
“Sorry,” you squeaked out your words against Harry’s chest. You loved that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and that your cheek was smushed into his skin.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay to cry. I’m here.”
Harry kissed the top of your head and spoke quietly, “Everything’s going to be okay.”
When you’d finally caught your breath and looked up at him, he smiled softly at your face with tear-stained cheeks, “Thank you for stopping in at work today. That made everything feel so much better.”
Harry took in your red puffy eyes and the way your lip quivered the slightest and sighed as he wiped your tears, “I needed to see you. I’m glad it made you feel better. How was your shift?”
You told him about work and how Caressa hardly spoke to you. Then you discovered that when Harry arrived she hadn’t told you that he was there when he asked her to, “Guess I’m not surprised. She probably hates us both. And what are you making? Smells really good.”
“Just veggie soup and I’ve got some biscuits cooling. Stove’s off so it can sit a bit. It’ll be fine.”
You looked around your living room and it was the first time you noticed the new big-screen TV that had replaced yours, as well as a plant in the corner that hadn’t been there, “So now we live together, huh?” You smiled finally, to Harry’s relief.
“If you still want me here then yes.”
You laughed and leaned back into him, hugging his middle, “Of course I want you here. Need you here.”
Harry put his arms around you, “S’what I wanted to hear. Need to be with you. No matter what that looks like.”
You looked up at him and his curls that were starting to get long and the bit of scruff on his face with his bright eyes and pink lips and you felt like you were lucky to have him. It wasn’t going to be easy to not have Fae in your life. And you would have to deal with the judgment that was to come, but at least you had him. At least you had each other.
“What?” Harry asked as your eyes wandered over his features.
“I just feel grateful that you’re here with me.”
Harry tilted his head to the side as he rubbed your arms up and down, his eyes on yours, “I’m grateful you want me here, Y/n.”
As shitty as everything was and the awful reality that was caging you in and carving the words homewrecker onto your forehead, you felt it in your heart that he was the love of your life. No one else could ever understand it. But Harry did. And you did. And that was all that mattered in that moment.
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jarofstyles · 20 days
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Stay Right Here - Just a Touch
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It’s been ages since we updated this one I’m so sorry! But I had a part already on Patreon I don’t think I put up here and since I’ve been dealing with something I figured I’d hand it over along with the one shot hopefully in a few hours lol.
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Warnings- a/o/b dynamics, alpha Harry, royalty etc
——
Harry had taken that permission and ran with it.
Y/N had been slowly adjusting to calling him Harry in the safety of his chambers, and Harry had taken to clasping their hands together in the privacy of the rides to and from events. Y/N had nearly choked the first time, but she had warmed up to it nicely now.
“Harry..” she warned as they pulled from the curb, keeping her hand hidden in her skirts. “You must wait until we are properly on the road. If people see-“
“I know, I know. You worry too much, darling.” He grabbed her cool, smaller hand, greedy for the touches as they got into the busier part. “I like the color today.” His eyes examined the mint green varnish on her nails. She had told him that the maids do them sometimes after hours in the courtyards, sharing bottles since it was easier that way. He had liked the lavender last week, but the mint green was winning his favor.
“Thank you.” She smiled lightly, looking at their joined hands. It was odd to see. His decked in jewels and scars and hers lithe and small compared to his own. The compliments the prince so freely gave tended catch her off guard a lot of the time. Never had a man been so open and blunt with her about the things he liked. To be fair, she didn’t have a lot of male friends or… whatever this sort of relationship was with the man… but he was by far the most open with her that she had ever experienced.
“It’s only the truth.” His hand brought hers up to his lips to kiss the back of her knuckles, smirking to himself at the tiny shiver she gave him. Y/N had a hard shell to crack, she was terrified in some ways about people seeing their affections and her getting into trouble, but he had helped ease her nerves the more he did it. The privacy was something he cherished, looking forward to retiring to his chambers at night because it meant Y/N would sit with him as they discussed or read books. He hated when he got tired quickly and she would leave once he was settled in bed, wishing he could convince her to crawl under the warm blankets with him and curl into his side as he always wanted. He had many dreams for their connection and, admittedly, never imagined it would be this hard. He usually had people falling at his feet, flaunting their necks and propositioning him to fall into bed. Y/N was the exact opposite. Surprisingly, it was one of the things he liked the most about her.
It wasn’t easy to gain her trust, but it would make the reward so much sweeter. Just like how his heart beat hard in his chest each time she would squeeze their hands together, or he felt her shiver when he brushed his thumb over the back of her own.
Baby steps.
Their connection was undeniable, even for her. She shivered and blushed and found herself gravitating closer towards him every single day, something that baffled her. Her body had a mind of its own, leaning into his touches and having a very hard time letting go when he initiated the touching. Like right now. He had just spent time shopping and Y/N had stayed dutifully by his side, quiet but alert. Taking in their surroundings and making sure she wasn’t too close to his side despite the lack of perception the Prince had for personal space when it came to her. It was up to her to keep it in line.
He had only talked to her, asking her opinion on jewels and colors and fabrics, ignoring a lot of the people there meant to be the experts. She gave her honest one now, knowing now that Harry would much rather get the truth from her than a lie. A sickly green had been something she had vetoed along with a tacky embossed goose pattern that she didn’t think suited him- a rarity considering Prince Harry was the type to make quite literally anything work in his favor. His beauty was something even Y/N found to be intimidating.
“Thank you for coming with me today.” His voice snapped her out of her trance, eyes lifting from their joined hands back up to his eyes. Harry preferred eye contact with her when they were alone. “Shopping can be rather boring when people are just telling you to get everything, that everything looks good just because you’re royalty, you have the money, all of that. A truthful person is hard to come by.”
Even with all the money in the world, the most valuable thing to have is an honest person. Y/N had been nothing but truthful to him and he valued her opinion more than most already. The sweet little thing had her way under his skin without even trying. He’d been going slow and learning with her, doing his best to not spook her. He could scent her arousal at times though he pretended he didn’t. She was someone he wanted to keep around. As much as he wanted to be inside of her, he wanted her to have a clear head and no regrets when he did it.
“Of course.” She replied quietly, squeezing his hand back. “I don’t think it serves a purpose for me to lie. You won’t punish me for inserting my opinion so I don’t mind giving it.” Other staff had been in the past, but Harry didn’t seem like the other royals. That’s not to say she disliked or even resented the king and queen- they didn’t know her. They knew her mother and had been generous enough to keep her healthcare open while she wasn’t working, even if it didn’t cover everything it needed. But the prince? He was kind to her. Caring. On a personal level, he felt connected to her.
“Never. I told you, I chose you to keep around. I’d like for us to be close. No use in trying that if you aren’t comfortable telling me a fabric color is atrocious.” He joked, a tingle lighting up his chest when he saw her lips curl into a small smile.
“It was quite bad, wasn’t it?” She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head at the image of the color back in her head. “Don’t know who could pull off that sort of color. You have the ability to make anything look lovely but… even you, I don’t think couldn’t make it happen.”
The compliments from Y/N weren’t very plentiful and he understood why. She still had a bit of a mental blockage with boundaries that didn’t exist, but Harry didn’t mind. This compliment from her had him worked up, ego stroked and chest puffed. She thought he could make anything look lovely?
“Truly?” He asked. “You think I make things look lovely?” The preening was visible, making Y/N wonder why she hadn’t complimented him much before. The actual happiness on his face was like watching sunbeams melt snow. Of course he got thousands of compliments during his week, but none of them seemed to make his heart sing as much as hers did. Maybe it was the genuine nature, how she almost looked like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud- or maybe it was just her. The rarity of it all.
“Of course.” She replied, cheeks burning. It shouldn’t feel so humiliating to tell the truth, but his gaze was always going to slightly intimidate her. “You’re incredibly handsome. I’m sure you know this, Harry.”
Hearing her say his name and another compliment made him feel like he could burst. “I’m told all the time, sure. But you’re saying it because you mean it and think it. Not just because you think it's the proper thing to do or because you want something.” He replied. “It’s… nice to hear you think highly of me, is all. Sometimes I think all I do is annoy you.”
Y/N realized now that perhaps she had been a bit unknowingly cruel. She hadn’t meant to make him think she didn’t think highly of him at all, surely never meaning to make him think he was annoying. She was blown away by how beautiful he was at times, but it never felt appropriate to share that. He intimidated her even still. Coming to get to know him a bit, it was obvious he really wanted to be her friend, though, and she was curious why with all of the reassurance he had given her why she hadn’t been able to act more accordingly.
“I apologize. Of course I think highly of you. I’m still getting used to the idea of us being friends and more than just your servant but… I never think it appropriate to share those thoughts.” She swallowed nervously, meeting his eyes again. “You are incredibly handsome and kind. You’ve never once annoyed me or made me upset. I like your singing voice when you think I can’t hear, and I like that you treat me as an equal. I apologize again, for making you even think I don’t think the absolute highest of you.”
While she’s had her nerves about breaching those boundaries, it wasn’t ever truly about him as an individual. It had to do with the establishment and the things that could happen if she was caught treating him as an equal. He could do whatever he wanted, but Y/N was supposed to follow a group of strict guidelines. Things Harry said were thrown away but she hadn’t trusted him enough until now. She hasn’t been given a reason to think after all these weeks.
She wasn’t an idiot. She knew Harry was attracted to her.
Why?
That remained to be a mystery as he had been given the entire kingdom and surrounding to choose from, but chose to spend his time with her. There was no time to even sneak out to see other omegas because there were no more hours in the day. It would take her a bit more time to allow that sort of thing to even be broached, though. This pace was good.
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Winter's King 22
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: this week isn't going great but we're hoping.
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You peer up at the silhouettes of the vultures perched on the peaks of the castle. Your return is met by a clear sky as the snows recede to crawling clouds across the slate expanse. The king lets you down outside the stables before he walks the horse within. 
You stand just inside the doorway, outside the gathering winds that whistle through the passes and hidden crevices of the mountain. You hug yourself, shivering endlessly as you struggle to chase the cold from your bones. Once the chill creeps in it is near impossible to expel. 
King Geralt’s rocky voice carries through the stable as he speaks to Roach. You glance over as another mount huffs and gives an impatient whinny. You slip further inside, letting the door shut completely. You trod along the edge of the aisle and turn down the next row. There you find Daisy’s speckled nose. 
“Oh, girl,” you greet her softly and untangle a mat in her mane, “there you are.” 
She sniffs you as you pet her neck. She nuzzles the collar of your cloak and you feel along the thick tendons beneath her fine hair. There is comfort in her familiarity. You long to stay there with the horses. You belong more than you do in the king’s chambers. 
“Treasure...” he calls for you as you still and keep your hand on Daisy. He speaks your name next as you hear his footfalls march down the next row, harrying faster with each step. The door swings in then clatters back against the frame as Daisy knicks. “Little maid?” 
You pat Daisy’s nose and retreat. You shuffle to the front and turn to follow the wall, “your highness.” 
King Geralt backs out of the doorway and it snaps shut with the wind. His eyes blaze a moment before they dim. He pushes his gloves over his hair, stray strands puffing out around his hairline. 
“There you are. I worried you might have blown away,” he steadies his timbre. Was he truly afraid? Did he think you would try to escape? 
“Apologies, I was checking on Sir Bryce’s mount,” you explain. 
“Bryce, yes,” he reaches for you and takes your hand, “he has kept you safe, has he?” 
You nod, “he is a good man.” 
The king’s cheek ticks, “he is my man. He only does as I bid. I commanded him to see after you. Me.” 
You take a breath and bow your head, “certainly, I know so, your highness. Thank you for your protection.” 
“Do you see, so long as you are close to me, you won’t need to fear,” he girds. 
For so long as he keeps you close, you will only be afraid. You will fear him, you will fear his courtiers and his enemies, and you will fear the day he no long wants you near. Every flame must burn itself out and every flame will singe those who get too close. 
“Yes, your highness,” you answer and look up at him again, his eyes glimmering, “Geralt.” 
Your voice shakes, with more than just the cold, and you let the shiver spread through you. The king brings a hand to your chin and brushes his leather glove against your cheek. He draws you into him, holding you again his chest. 
“I forget, my summer treasure, the cold is new to you,” he embraces you and bends to speak against your hat, “we must warm you before an ague might creep in.” 
He lets you free reluctantly and grips your hand instead. He takes you out of the stable and towards the rear entrance of the castle. You slip in the snow, keeping you footing only for his hold on you. He stops and turns to you, tugging you near as your feet kick through the powder. 
He sweeps you up in his arms without effort. He is strong and holds you across his body, cradling you as he stalks to the door. You wriggle as angles to hook two fingers through the loop and hauls open the door around you. He sidles inside and turns you, bidding you to pull the door shut. You obey and close you both in dim unlit corridor. 
“Thank you, your highness,” you pat his chest lightly, “will you let me down?” 
“I don’t mind. You are hardly a burden,” he grits. “Having you in my arms has me feeling much lighter.”��
You drag your hand to his shoulder and squeeze through the layers, “but what if someone should happen upon us?” 
He’s quiet. He keeps you aloft, shifting one way then the other, peering up and down the darkness. 
“And what if they did?” He asks. 
It’s your turn to be silent. 
“I am king, what should they do, treasure?” 
You fidget and pull your hand away from him. 
“You speak true, your highness. You are the king, you may do as you will.” 
He sighs and his chest heaves against you. He clicks his tongue and slowly shifts you down until your feet meet the floor. As he straightens, he drags his touch over your figure, his hand delving between cloak and dress. 
“You fret very much,” he rebukes, “though I suppose caution is wise.” 
“I think of you, of your reputation as king,” you assure him, “I wouldn’t want to tarnish your name. I serve the crown and I wouldn’t bring shame to it.” 
“Shame?” He snarls, “never.” 
He hooks his arm around you and spreads his hand across the back of your head. He pulls you into him and kisses your forehead as you tremble. He holds you like that for a moment before he parts.  
“We must warm you,” he proclaims, “this way, treasure.” 
He nudges you along with him. You follow his footsteps down the corridor, towards the lantern light that light the main ways. He takes you through the castle without pause, not tarrying for soldier or lord alike, though few appear in the halls. It is much too cold to leave their hearths. 
You climb upward and he leads you to the winding tower. He let you up ahead of him as he holds the door. He touches your lower back through the cloak. 
“You will wait for me. I have some matters to attend to,” he says, “it shouldn’t be very long at all.” He trails up your back, sending a flash of heat through you, “sit close to the hearth.” 
“Yes, your highness,” you dip your head and press on, ascending as you lift the hem of your cloak and dress over your feet. 
The lower door shuts only as the hinges at the top whine at your entrance. You close the chamber door and look around the space. The hearth burns still, fed by servants at intervals, and the lantern on the table shines through the steel slats that shade its flame. 
You remove the cloak and hang it from an iron hook. You sit in the chair and strip off the hat, mittens, boots, and stockings; You leave the damp layers nears the hearth and lower yourself before the flames. You close your eyes and hang your head forward. You could sleep then and there. 
Your peace doesn’t last very long. You raise your head as you hear someone on the stairs. You stand, readying yourself to face the king, but instead are met by a pair of pinch-faced maids. The resident servants carry steaming vessels and cross to the tub stood to the other side of the bed. They pour the water into the thick wooden walls and retreat without a word. 
You spin and fold your arms. You’re taken back to the day it was you and Merinda filling a tub. Before everything became so muddled. A simple existence where you knew exactly what was expected of you.  
Your heart rents when you think of your estranged companion. Merinda would know what to say. She could ease your fears, she always knew how. Ever since she came Debray, she always kept you from worry. Without her, you are lost. You only wish you’d realised then all she was to you. You were more than just maids, you were friends. 
You stare at the cinders beneath the licking flames. You don’t look again as the servants come upon their second trip, and a third, and a fourth... anon and anon until the chamber thickens with the steam of the tub. You daren’t remind yourself again how much you’ve lost; how much you didn’t even know you had to lose. 
You’re left in silence, facing the fire. The winds batter the tower from outside and the shuttered windows rattle. Heavy steps come up the winding staircase and you know without looking who enters behind you. The king’s sigh confirms your assumption. 
“The water will ease the cold,” he says as the door shuts, “and the aches of the road.” 
You shift so your stand sideways to him, “thank you, your highness.” You swallow and cough out the lump in your throat, “Geralt.” 
He hums at your correction. You stand still as he moves around the chamber. He unbuckles his cloak and hangs it next to the one he gifted you. Then he nears to remove his gloves and boots, lining them up before the burning fireplace. As he stands straight, he faces you. 
“You should bathe. The water is hot,” he says. 
“Thank you,” you nod and reach behind your nape to untie the single lace of your dress, “so I should.” 
You whisk away from him, pacing towards the tub as your hands clash clumsily. The thought of undressing before him makes you numb. You stop as the steam plume around you and drop your arms. You can’t get a grasp on the fabric. You grip the edge of the tub and stare into the water. 
“You needn’t be meek,” you hear the subtle creak of his leather coat as he removes it. You peek over as he drapes it over a wooden chair. “The cold is dangerous for summerborn, you shouldn’t let it get too deep.” 
You can't. You're trying to find the will. You think of all you've done. Faced the Duke and his clan, travelled to the capital, the  to hinterlands, you've done it all without doubt, but the layers of fabric are too heavy a task. 
You flinch as you feel a tickle along your side. You push away from the tub, dropping your arms as he king bends behind you. He raises the hem of your dress and the air is crushed from your chest. You serve, you obey, and the king’s will is plain. 
You lift your arms as he strips the dress up your body and over your head. He swipes it towards the bed as your shift rumples at your hips, the unhemmed edge along your thighs. He steps even closer as he curls his fingers around the undyed linen.  
You keep your arms up as he guides the fabric higher. He keeps his thumbs hooked in the cloth and turns his hands so his fingertips brush your shape. Bumps bristle over your skin and have you even colder than before. You quake as the linen blinds you for just a moment and in another, you're naked.  
Your shift flaps through the air to land on your dress. The king's breath wisps out through his tight chest and he frames your hips with his large hands. He's shaking too. 
He draws away slowly and you feel a rustle against you. You stand frozen as he undresses at your back. Don’t look, you can’t look. If you look, it’s real. If you look, it’s over. His clothes pile at his feet as he shifts you gasp as he presses his hot body flush to yours. 
He brings his hands up your arms and along your neck. He frames your head and kisses your crown, his thumb toying with a shank of your uneven hair. You bite down as he urges you closer to the tub.  
You move without without resistance, one leg over the edge then the other. He follows, thick legs plunging into the roiling water. He keeps you snug to him as he lowers himself, easing you atop him. You rest over him and his need makes itself known between you. You stare at the stone wall and steel yourself, the water adding fire to the ice inside of you. 
He exhales as he relaxes under you, letting his hands crawl over your stomach and hips, feeling every inch of you. From the crook of your neck to your thighs. He smears water over your face as he touches your cheeks and traces your jaw. He quivers as snarling breaths escape him. 
“This is how it should be, treasure,” he wraps his hands around yours and folds your arms, resting his clutches over your chest. “I suppose you’ve never heard the tale of Cerill and Wynifred.” 
You stare at his knuckles, the hair that trims his rough flesh, the grip in his paled joints. 
“Never,” you assure him. 
“Cerill was a warrior. A loyal soldier. A man who served his king with all his being. He was knighted on a battlefield. Once a stablehand, then a hero. The king, Fazon, he had a wife, Wynifred. A queen who was kind and sweet. They were ill-matched for every misfortune he aimed at her, rather than its true crux,” he regales you as his voice fills the chamber, wafting with the steam. 
“But she was obedient. She lived by her vows. For years. But she was mortal as any woman might be and the cruelty of her husband weakened her. And Lord Cerill was valiant and strong and gentle. Everything her husband was not. How could she restrain herself from the comfort he offered? Neither meant to betray their king but some things, some forces, are strong than those writ by men and their quills.” 
You listen, certain of the purpose of his telling. You are not legendary lovers, you are not lost to wives’ tales and children’s stories, you are here, you are alive, and there is nothing fantastical about any of it. He might believe whatever but you haven’t that luxury. He will not hear the doubts, you will feel them. 
“And what happened to them?” You ask with foreboding. There are stories similar in the summerlands; of pages and their masters’ wives or daughters. 
“Yes, well, we know of them because they were found out, I suppose. They knew they would not evade the king’s vengeance but they refused to bend to it. So, they fled into the forest and found a sacred root. That plant is meant for the sickly, to ease their end. They consumed it together and died in each others’ arms. Just as they were found.” 
You lay in silence. The forbidden love hardly tweaks at your heart, but more, you tremble to think of the king’s wrath. Of how a king might wrought his temper upon any and all. Even a wife, even a knight. It is no romantic tragedy; it is a lesson in the power of men. 
“Apologies it is not a happier conclusion,” he says. 
“The stories are never very happy,” you murmur. Or the truth. 
He hums as squeezes your hands. The water is still as you lie in his mercy. This cannot last. Just as in his story, there will only be pain. 
As if to confirm your unspoken dread, a knock sounds on the door. The king jerks, the water sloshing around him as he sits you up with him. 
“Geralt, King of Rivia and the Hinterlands,” the growl cuts through meanly, “come rule your people!” 
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