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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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DENTIST THE BAD BOI

Word count: 7k

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.

MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2

“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.

She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.

She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.

It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.

“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he’s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.

“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.

“What d'ya mean?”

“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.

“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.

“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.

“He’s not a catwhore!”

“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”

“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.

“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?” He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.

“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.

Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.

“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”

Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”

“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.

“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”

“Harry.” Her tone threatening.

Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.

“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.

His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.

“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.

“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.

“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.

He has never seen her this defenceless.

He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.

“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.

“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.

Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.

“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.

“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.

When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”

“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.

“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.

“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.

“I see.”

“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”

“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.

He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.

She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.

“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”

“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.

Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.

A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.

“You’re mad, know that.”

Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.

Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.

Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.

They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.

What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).

Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.

“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll scream.” She warns him.

“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.

Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.

She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.

Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.

Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.

When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).

When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.

He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.

“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.

Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.

His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.

He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.

“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?

Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.

“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.

“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.

Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.

They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.

There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.

“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”

“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I’ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.

“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.

“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.

(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.

“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)

“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.

“Where are we going?”

“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.

“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.

“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.

“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”

Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.

He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.

“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.

“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.

Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.

“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.

She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.

“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.

He’s gonna fulfill his promise.

Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.

Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.

Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.

His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.

“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.

When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.

Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.

Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.

She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.

“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.

Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.

“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.

Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.

“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.

“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.

“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”

He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”

“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.

When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.

“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.

“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.

“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”

Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.

He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”

Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.

The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.

“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.

“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.

“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.

“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.

“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”

“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”

“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.

It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.

She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.

“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.

“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.

“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.

“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.

Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.

But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.

She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.

She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.

“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.

“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.

He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.

“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.

He warms her in all the right places.

“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.

“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.

“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”

“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.

Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.

“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.

“Is that so?”

He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.

She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.

“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.

“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”

“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.

That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?

Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.

She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.

“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.

“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.

So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.

She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.

She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.

“Please ....”

“Stay.”

Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.

“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

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hvlfwygod · 3 years

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Miranda and blue 🤪

💄🔥💃MIRANDA/BLUE💃🔥💄

(assuming rosie and blue never happened for their sakes)

Who is more aggressive in bed?- don't kill me but miranda gives me bottom energy 😗pillow princess 😗 tho to be fair that doesn't necessarily mean not aggressive.... let's say power play lmao

Lights on or off?- mood lighting

Who does what chores?- blue is lazy but she does in fact like cooking, they can trade off on dishes/laundry/trash and miranda can hire a housecleaner for deeper cleaning

Who gets babied when they’re sick?- i imagine miranda is the most dramatic, annoying, needy little baby when she's sick and blue is Totally Down to baby her 😌

Who makes breakfast?- if it happens it's blue, but i think they normally are the eat-on-the-go type in the morning

Where would they go on their honeymoon?- going on a tour to some of the best restaurants in the world, at nights they go to raves

What are their quirks while sleeping?- blue can get a lil Warm in her sleep so miranda might have to learn to adjust without a lot of bedding lol

What is their favorite activity as a family?- hosting parties asdkfasf

Who is the stricter parent?- the babysitter adskfjasd

Who would be the big spoon?- blue she says let me Squeeze you

Who would wake up first?- oh god.... unless miranda super sleeps in, it's her. blue regularly sleeps until 11/noon asdkfj

Do they have nicknames for each other?- they'd start calling each other "hot stuff" and "sexy" ironically but then it sticks oops

What happened when they met each other’s parents?- i assume miranda's mom will be her usual self askfjsfd, blue will not try to impress her bc she thinks miranda would enjoy that 😂as for her dad he'd think miranda is awesome and would high five blue for getting a rich bitch askdfa

How do they apologize after an argument?- blue def would need to cool down and i assume miranda would too. but later on she'd come and own up to whatever she did wrong tbh. blue would be desperate to get past it so she'd start joking as soon as possible sdkfa

What would they be like as parents?- uhhhh really loud obnoxious supportive moms who fight the ref when they make a call against their kid. aggressive support but very willing to let the kids try out a million different things to find their passion

Who is the better cook?- MIRANDA

Who is more romantic?- i think it'd be miranda, she'd take them out to fancy places and take blue on weekend vacations just willy nilly

What sort of gifts do they get for each other?- miranda gets blue expensive trinkets and concert tickets, blue makes miranda a million different playlists and also expensive trinkets lol

Who gets jealous easiest?- ooooh miranda i think. they both seem pretty chill/trusting but blue def... flirts with every woman she sees and i can imagine miranda would get sick of that and telling the girls to back off asdjfkas

Who gets more excited for events? (e.g. birthdays, christmas…etc)- oh man... i think it honestly just depends on the event they both get so hype for things.... extroverts smh

Who is the most adventurous?- again i think it depends on what lowkey i think they'd be a gr8 couple 😅they both would love to go try something new and exciting and go wherever life takes them

Who is the most protective?- oof..... i know miranda will cut a bitch but blue will literally burn a bitch, i think she has miranda beat by a little bit

What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?- the mean girl and the playground bully forming a deadly alliance

Song to sum them up?- kiss me more by doja cat on vibes alone

#ask meme #muse: blue #blue

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years

Text

metempsychosis: t. holland series (pt. 3)

a/n | we’re finally getting to the good stuff :-) now that i’m turning this into a submission for a competition i’m having to change all of the names and tenses (bc i can’t submit “y/n” to professionals) so hopefully there aren’t too many typos !

synopsis | A young couple whose lives were both lost in a tragic accident are reincarnated as new people. As they collide as strangers in their second lives, they must try to make sense of the innate connection they feel.

cw | reincarnation au. language, fluff, a lil angst, flashbacks. this one ain’t too sad. 2.6k words.

Read part 2, join the taglist

1993

{ He took a gulp as he opened the door to see her sweet face waiting to be let in. “Hey, glad you found me,” he laughed nervously, arm reaching up and over to scratch at a nonexistent itch on the back of his head.

She wandered through the doorframe, taking in the smell of his apartment, counting the dirty dishes in the sink, smiling at the family photos he had on display. “I’m glad we’re finally getting around to having a movie night,” she grinned back.

“Sorry, you know how crazy school has been-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Chemistry this and med school that. I can’t believe I’ve found myself swooning over such a nerd.”

“Says the girl who prefers numbers to real people.”

She gave him a dramatic slap to the shoulder, feigning offense. “Just put on the movie before I ditch you for some spreadsheets.”

He gave her lower arm a lighthearted squeeze and guided her over to the couch, putting the tape in and plopping down next to her. He grabbed a blanket off of the armrest and whipped it up in the air, letting it fall spread out across her lap. She looked surprised at his intuitiveness. “I remember you telling me you can’t watch a home movie without a good blanket,” he said.

Her eyes crinkled at the edges at his attention to detail, picking up the corner closest to him and motioning for him to take half of the quilt. “Then you shouldn’t, either.”

The rom-com had an argument scene between the protagonist and his love interest where they disputed over who took what side of the bed the first time they slept together. He laughed at the silliness of it all as she sank further into his body as their chests rose and fell.

“Do you think we’ll need to pick sides of the bed?” he whispered as the scene changed.

“This is only our second date- I won’t be sleeping in your bed anytime soon, mister,” she smiled, stare still pointed at the screen.

“Well, fine, but it seems like this is a conversation we need to have if we have any chance of making it,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Let’s just pick sides of the couch then!” She looked down at her own lap, then at his. “I’m on the left side right now, so I’m claiming it as mine.”

“Wait, I didn’t even get a chance to experience the left side!’

“This is your couch,” she rolled her eyes at his playful tone.

“So I’m just stuck with the right?”

“Yes.”

“Forever?!”

“What other option would there be?”

He huffed in disapproval, but as time and movie dates passed, he had carved his own dugout in the left couch cushion that fit him like a glove. If he ever wasn’t on the right side of her, looking at her side profile from that specific angle, he couldn’t help but feel out of place. When they did finally share a bed, there was no need to fuss over who took which side, and no matter how many new couches they went through in different moves at different stages of their life, he sat to the right, learning to keep a throw pillow on his lap to anticipate her inevitably lying down and resting her head on it. }

You walked over to Tom, the soft padding of your feet against the wooden floors ringing out as the only sound in the suddenly quiet apartment.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Uh, coffee, if you have it,” he replied, still clutching the throw pillow in his lap.

“Really? At 8pm?”

“Yeah, caffeine doesn’t affect me, I have one of those recessed genes or something.”

You shrugged and obliged, happy to have something to keep you busy as you paced over to the kitchen to brew the coffee, holding your hip. Tom swiveled around to watch you work.

His words sliced through the silence. “Are you feeling any better than earlier? You seemed pretty off in the car-”

“I’m fine.” You didn’t want to replay the emotions you felt while Tom was driving in your head, so you cut him off before he could keep talking about it. “Here’s your coffee.”

He took a sip and burned his tongue, scrunching up his face in such a cute way that you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Fuck, that’s hot!” he started fanning his stuck out tongue like it would do something, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk when he noticed you were laughing.

“I’m sorry, you literally just watched me brew it...” You shrugged, still entertained by his dramatic display.

The mood changed then and you were finally able to loosen yourselves up, able to chime in with conversation, exchanging eye contact that didn’t make either one of you nauseous. Now that you had the chance to look into Tom’s eyes for a little while longer, you was able to see just how mesmerizingly milky they were.

He continued in a panic. “I can’t lose my tongue! That’s how I make a living!”

You raised an eyebrow at him and he shot back a face of realization.

“That did not come out how I meant it to.”

You giggled again, pulling a blanket over your lap.

“I meant because I sing-”

“Yeah, Tom, I figured.”

You both had laugh lines splaying across your faces and you felt yourself settle back into the cushions a little easier, growing more used to being in his presence. Once you had given it a chance, you and Tom actually got along quite well.

“Speaking of which, can I hear something?”

“You want me to play for you?”

“Well, I’m an artist and you got to see my work...so, yeah,” you smiled, poking at his shoulder.

“Um, I don’t have my guitar,” Tom blurted out an excuse, because he was currently terrified of singing to you; you already made him excitedly nervous enough.

But you weren’t letting him off the hook that easy. “Isn’t it just in your car?”

“...so you saw it, then.” He sighed in defeat, getting up to get his keys.

“Yep.”

“You’re really gonna make me sing for you?”

You smiled and nodded at him.

“It’s the least you can do now that I’ve graciously opened my home and my coffee pot up to you.”

He shook his head as he laughed and ran out to grab the instrument. Once he was settled back down on the sofa, you watched him with your head tilted to the side as he became lost in the strings, tuning and then strumming onto them a truly beautiful melody. He saw you in his peripheral so seemingly enthralled watching him play, your bottom lip half bitten as you focused on his hands and fingers moving.

“Well, truthfully, I haven’t come up with anything good in a few days,” he said, still in denial that his dreamy muse had abandoned him. “So what’s a song you know? I’ll just play a cover.”

You pondered for too long on the question, thinking your answer would hold a lot more weight about your character than it actually did. Tom was far from that kind of deep thinking; he was too busy taking in the way your wavy hair framed your hollow cheeks.

“How about ‘Iris’?” You took a chance on one of your favorite old songs, assuming he wouldn’t know how to play it.

“Ah, a classic.” He started to pluck out the first few notes, and you were amazed that he already knew it by heart. But where you expected to hear the lyrics come in, Tom stayed silent. He looked over to your confused expression and stopped the music.

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna sing the words?”

“It’s not really in my range. You can though, if you want?”

You sat upright. “Me?”

“Well, if you wanna hear the words that badly,” he shrugged, grinning at you.

“Ugh, fine.”

“Wow, she paints and sings?”

“Hey, do you want me to or not?!”

He chuckled at you, loving how rosy your cheeks had gotten, and started the song over, his hands on autopilot.

You sang the first few words of the first verse, and upon hearing your voice, Tom’s jaw all but fell to the floor; he was completely awestruck.

That voice. He knew that voice.

1993

{ He sat slouched on his barstool, listening to someone do a country song a great injustice up on the microphone.

“Why did you drag me to this, mate?”

“To a bar?”

“To a bar with an open mic. I can’t listen to a Beatles’ classic being sung off key for a third time tonight.” He popped the top off of another beer and chugged it down as another amateur made their way to the front of the room.

The girl on the stage started to sing and he all but did a spit take. Her voice was incredible, melting into his ears like smooth butter. And once he turned to look at her, well, that was all it took. He had waded through the bar crowd so quickly that she was barely off the makeshift stage when he approached her, blurting out “Hi, you’re so beautiful, I mean, your voice, I mean...uh, can I buy you a drink?” and kicking himself afterwards for not even trying an ounce to playing it cool. But it didn’t matter; one look was all it took for her, too. }

Tom racked his brain as you continued to sing, your voice echoing through the apartment like an angelic aura. That was it, he thought, she sounds like the singing voice in his dreams—and the day he’d met you was the same day he’d stopped dreaming—no, no...that wasn’t possible.

But he couldn’t shake the eerie thought from his head. Were you trapped in his brain until he met you in person? Had his angel manifested itself into the beautiful singing girl sitting next to him?

He stopped the song halfway through as he felt a rush of copper through his forehead and down to his nose. Shit.

“Um, where’s your bathroom?” he shot up and covered his nose with his sleeve, his guitar haphazardly falling onto the couch behind him.

“Down the hall, first door on the left,” you answered, confused. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just gotta-” Tom bolted down the hall and shut the bathroom door abruptly, uncovering his face in the small mirror to see a familiar trickle of red pooling above his upper lip. When he reentered the living room after cleaning himself up, he hadn’t realized that his blood had stained the collar of his t-shirt.

“Tom, you have...” you stood up and made her way over to him, touching your finger to his shirt. He looked down in horror and sighed heavily.

“Yeah, it’s…I’m sorry. I get these nosebleeds.”

You smiled up at him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I might have an extra shirt lying around, if you want it?”

Mortified but infatuated with how warming your touch was, Tom smiled back. “That would be great.”

You came out of your room with a t-shirt in hand. “This is the only one I have that will probably fit you,” you shrugged, tossing it to him and trying not to let your smile show as he stretched to take off his shirt right in front of you, revealing quite the body underneath. You pretended to busy yourself with something, anything, so he wouldn’t notice that you were watching him—but he did, and he didn’t mind it.

Tom’s phone lit up with a call in that moment, and he picked up to hear the tow trucker on the other end.

“Hey, sorry to let you know we won’t be getting out to your area for another few hours, turns out the truck lost its own tire on the freeway and we’re stranded,” the voice said, causing Tom to pace around the living room, speaking curtly with the man on the phone.

“Okay, right, thanks, bye.” He hung up and turned to you, pouting.

“My insurance is shit,” he shook his head. “They won’t be here for hours.”

You feigned upset, but neither of you were too unhappy about the opportunity to spend more time together.

“...do you have anything stronger than coffee?”

You winked at Tom as you made your way back into the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

You passed the night away, mixing your coffee with rum and childhood memories with the anecdotes of a broken heart. As the hours trickled by, you sank closer on the old couch; you kept track of Tom’s heartbeat, watching his chest rise and fall in rhythm, and he kept losing his train of thought in the gold specks of your eyes.

You opened up to him about your disability, and upon seeing you become so open, so vulnerable with him, Tom couldn’t help but lean forward, place a light hand around the shape of your cheek, and capture your lips in his own. Upon the contact, you both felt as if you had been delightfully tased—and it sent your head reeling.

You saw fragmented scenes in your head—images of flashing lights, a shouting couple, a tender, loving kiss frozen in time. As Tom pulled back, the fantastical man in your head followed suit, and you doubled over on the couch as a shock of familiarity churned your stomach at the realization that the man had been a dead match for Tom.

The flashes continued, and the girl on the receiving end of the kiss became less pixellated; you felt the warmth of a lifetime of memories flooding your system as you registered that the girl in the images was, in fact, you yourself.

Tom held you upright as you held your face in your hands, shaking your head softly. “y/n, what just happened? Was it the kiss? Did I read the room wrong? I’m-”

“No, Tom, it wasn’t you, I just…” you trailed off, bolting up from the couch and quickly pacing to the kitchen. “I need some water.”

He watched you from his seat with concern, readying himself to run to your rescue, just as he heard the loud, startling sound of a horn. The tow truck had finally made it.

“You should go,” you said, refusing to turn around and look Tom in the eye for fear of making any more sense of what she’d just seen.

“y/n-”

“Please go.”

“Please tell me I can see you again.”

You thought on that for a moment, frightened but unready to let go of this mystery.

“Okay.” You remained staring out of the kitchen window.

Tom stood up and silently exited the apartment, closing the door softly behind him, wondering where in time and space he had just lost your thoughts. As he arrived home much later and finally succumbed to sleep, he wasn’t able to rest long as he was visited by his own nightmare.

He had been in the driver’s seat of his car, unidentified noises pinging here and there as he heard someone mumbling, unable to discern their words. He turned to the passenger, his vision lagging as it made its way to her, and saw none other than you, yourself but not, crying softly, the vividness of your features making the dream feel more like a memory. As he tried to lend a comforting hand—the arm in his dream seemingly extending a mile away to reach you—the car was hit with a blinding force, and the vision went black as he was jolted awake.

#metempsychosis #reincarnation!au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shots #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

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author-morgan · 4 years

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Sry you probably have a lot to write 🤦‍♀️ I’m just gonna give you my “idea” and you can write it anytime you want🤙 idk i thought its kinda cute and funny like the reader who is with alexios in his journey -which he sees as a friend but she have a lil crush ofc he’s HOT- she gets drunk funny things happens like flirting with him etc. I’m awful at this but I really loved the idea 😂😭

Hi, nonny! Sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it!

Alexios x fem!Reader

EVER SINCE KEPHALLONIA, you and Alexios had been inseparable. Now you’ve sailed across the Aegean with him as he fought to reunite his shattered family and bring about the downfall of the Cult of Kosmos. His story is one of Homeric proportions and the historian, Herodotus, is eager to preserve it for the ages. No matter what is written, it does not change that the eagle-bearing misthios has been your closest friend for more than two decades.

When Alexios returns to the Adrestia at sundown, he finds the crew amid a celebration for Barnabas’ daughter, Leda. It is her name-day and the first one she has spent with her father. The reserve of Samian wine had even been brought above deck for the occasion —of which you had already had several cups and the warmth in your gut was beginning to spread. “Alexios!” You cry. It is good to see him back so soon.

His grin is wide and bright, and when you stumble toward him, he is there to catch you in his arms. You stare up at him, there’s a splattering of mud and blood on his cheek but he’s handsome as ever —his tawny-gold eyes focused on you despite the ongoing revelry. “I think you’ve had enough to drink,” Alexios laughs, setting you one of the benches at the stern of the trireme.

“And you haven’t had enough!” You challenge, watching as he works the ties of his vambraces loose —stashing them, along with his greaves in a trunk. He shakes his head, plucking the half-empty cup from your grasp and finishes it with a single drink. Since the commander’s return, the celebration quiets down and stopping altogether when he shouts for the deckhands to prepare the sail and oars. He’s received an urgent message from Timo in Naxos requesting his aid.

The wine has left you emboldened and now that most of the crew have gone below deck, it leaves the two of you alone beneath the stars. His chin is propped up on your shoulder, one arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You have been in this position many times before —even when you were children under Markos’ care— but as of late, your heart has started beating faster whenever you're close. Luckily tonight, you can blame the heat rising to your cheeks on the strong wine.

“Alexios?” You whisper, shifting to be able to look at him. His eyes are closed, the tension in his expression faded into nothing. He makes a hmm sound that comes from deep in his throat. “I like you.”

One of his dark eyes pops open, a smile kinking his lips. “I like you too,” Alexios replies, not thinking much about it. You had been friends for ages —of course, he liked you.

“No,” you start, voice trembling, “I like like you.” It feels odd to confess the truth of your feelings and even worse to know that a life-long friendship now hangs in the balance. Alexios remains silent, eyes flitting across your face as though he’s searching for something. It feels likes your heart has become a stone and sinks hard and fast into the pit of your stomach. “But I know,” you whisper, the dejection and heartbreak clear in both your countenance and tone, “just friends.”

Alexios purses his lips —he isn’t sure what to say or do. “I think you’ve had too much to drink,” he tells you, crossing his arms —this time the mirth in his voice is gone. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn your back to him and settle in for the rest of the night.

The Eagle Bearer hears soft sobs after some time and sees your shoulders shaking. He runs his hand over his face —knowing come the morning the events between you and him would be nothing more than a hazy dream. Besides, Alexios wants you to be cognizant when he tells you his long-harbored secret.

“Finally awake?” Alexios asks, smiling as he watches you roll onto your side with a groan —a poor attempt to block out the light of the morning sun. He is in an oddly chipper mood for it to be so early.

You sit up with a groan, hands immediately going to cradle your head. It feels as though someone is using your skull as an anvil. The prior night is nothing but an uncertain blur. Alexios laughs. “Don’t mock my pain,” you bite back, but then he offers up a cup of water. In two large gulps, it is gone. Setting the cup aside, you notice Alexios’ gaze is still focused on you, and the faint smile on his lips has not faded. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, suspicious.

“Because I like like you,” he answers —voice unwavering and smile bordering on cocksure. You freeze —hardly daring to even breathe, his words bring everything back in a wave of clarity. Heat races to your face and a lump grows in your throat again. You shake your head —heart pounding— not quite believing your ears or eyes. “Always thought it was cute when you turned red like that.” Alexios muses, his hand outstretched to cup your cheek.

“You’re lying,” you challenge. After all, he’d shrugged off your confession last night —blaming your words on the strong wine.

“Am not,” Alexios rebuts. His tawny-gold eyes have a twinkle in them, his smile genuine. You are the person he trusts wholly, one of the few people in Hellas that know the truth and his past. You had been there when he washed up on the shore of Kephallonia and nigh every day since then. If there was one person Alexios would spend the rest of his life with, it was you. It is only a pity both you had waited so long to act on the feelings beyond friendship.

The hand on your cheek slips back into your hair and then Alexios’ lips find your own. His kiss is everything you’ve dreamt of and more —a sweet paradox with his rough lips and gentle manner. He pulls away too soon but it is only to watch the soft smile overtake your rosy lips. You comb your fingers through the stubble on his cheek and jaw before leaning forward. As your lips met, he wraps his arms around your middle, keeping you close to him —where he had always kept you in his heart. One chapter in your and Alexios’ stories had come to an end, but another had just begun with the rising sun.

my alexios squad: @wallsarecrumbling @novastale @jaegers-and-kaijus @nemo-my-name-forevermore

#Alexios #Alexios x Reader #Alexios Imagine #Alexios Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Imagine #Assassin's Creed Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Odyssey #AC: Odyssey #my writing #Anonymous

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boobidabooski · 4 years

Text

Sunday Afternoon

I’m still figuring out how to use this app so please bear with me. I’m also a weeee bit rusty cause I haven’t written in awhile. I hope you enjoy though! :)

Format might be a little wonky? :/

Summary: Harry cheated and tries to save the relationship.

Voicemail to Harry on Saturday, 4:36 PM: “Hey. Was wondering if you’d wanna come over and cuddle for a little? Really hoping you’ll get back to me, love you.

Voicemail from Harry on Sunday, 3:02 AM: “I’m so sorry, y/n. Jus’ atta lil’ get together with my friends. I shoulda called sooner but ‘twas hectic. I love you.”

Sunday Afternoon

I play the slurred voicemail for Harry after he had arrived to my apartment, showing him how he left me hanging for the whole night. I sent him a, “We need to talk,” text that everyone in a relationship always dreads. A tight line forms across his lips when the voicemail is done playing and he just looks at me with sorry eyes

“M’sorry love, I really am.” Harry says, trying to get me to look at him. But I can’t. I felt so hurt after being left alone like that for so long without any explanation or make up for it. But then I did get my explanation a little bit after I woke up today. A cheeky little post on Instagram made by a petite blonde girl named Ainsley. She had tagged him in a photo of him with his arm across her shoulders. A carefree smile plastered on both of their rosy faces. Rosy cheeks caused by the alcohol of course.

I pull up the picture, shoving it to Harry’s chest and letting him take a look as I go to sit on the small sofa placed against the wall of my tiny living room. I watch him swallow hard. My heart starts to fall a little knowing something did in fact happen between him and this woman that night. “Wanna explain to me why you’re all over a woman who isn’t your girlfriend?” I ask sternly but picking at my nails nervous for the answer I will receive.

“She’s just a good friend, baby. I promise. Nothing’s goin on between us.” He’s lying to me. And he knows I can tell. I’ve picked up on Harry’s telltales these past few months. He rocks back and forth a little on his feet when he lies to me. He picks at his bottom lip with his index and thumb when he’s nervous, and he’s doing both right now.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” I say through clenched teeth knowing that my harshness will get to him. His head snaps up from the phone and he looks at me with confusion. He had been leaving me for hours on end with no explanation a lot recently. No calls or text messages to tell me he was safe. No I love you’s in response to mine.

“Don’t look at me like that, Harry. You’ve been ignoring me. Leaving me for hours on end. I don’t get texts from you anymore. I have no explanation for anything.” He still hasn’t said anything. He’s lost in thought, pondering on what he should say. He lets out a little sigh and looks away from me, remorse evident on his face. And that’s when my heart begins to beat rapidly against my chest. I can feel the pit forming in my stomach and my body begins to feel shaky.

“I kissed her.”

His words replay in my head. Seeping into me and making my already breaking heart shatter into a million pieces. Pieces that can’t be picked up and glued back together. His words are the only thought I have right now.

His words permanent in my mind like a tattoo. How could he do this to me after all the I love you’s? All of the little moments that made me feel euphoric just thinking about them. Tears start to stain my cheeks and my breathing is shaky. There’s a fire lit inside my body. Not the kind that was ignited from a kiss or a small touch that makes you feel all warm and giddy. The feeling that he had once made me feel. No. It was an angry, searing heat. He lied to me. He gave me false hope.

“I’ve done nothing to wrong you, Harry. I’ve done nothing but love you. Through everything. Why?” Those words sting the back of my throat. He can tell I’m starting to choke up and his eyes too start to well up with tears. I want to give in. I want so badly to just take him into my arms and run my fingers through his unruly hair. I want to wipe the tears from his beautiful green eyes. I want to tell him I love him. But I can’t.

“You did this. Why do you get to cry?” I seethe. His words, “I kissed her,” play over and over in my mind. I bury my face in my hands, trying to rid my mind of those awful words. I knew he’d hurt me. Why am I so surprised about this? I wasn’t expecting this forever love, but I also wasn’t expecting him to hurt me like he did.

“I-I don’t get to cry. I don’t deserve you. I fucked up. Royally.” He stutters through his words. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something every now and then but then he shuts it again, knowing there is no right words to say. There will never be any right words to say. Nothing he can say will take away this heart wrenching pain.

More tears stream down his cheeks. He looks away, wiping his face every time more fall. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him cry. It makes this whole situation so much worse. “I don’t know why I did it. Commitment issues? Fear? I don’t know..” He trails off in thought and I scoff at the pitiful attempt to explain why he would do something so cruel to someone he claims to love so much. He doesn’t get to cry, and he certainly doesn’t deserve me. What he does deserve is the guilt gnawing at him. He deserves that fiery regret. He deserves the pain that I will inflict on him when I tell him I will never love him again. I can’t love him again. Not after he kissed another woman when he promised he was mine. But who knows if he’ll even care.

“There’s no more to say and you can’t take back what you did. S’all just a waste now.” I whisper the last part, knowing he would’ve heard the pain in my voice if I had said it normally. “No-no, y/n, don’t say it’s a waste. It’s not a waste. I love you. I love you more than anything. It was one stupid, drunken kiss. She meant nothing!” His voice breaks more and more as he tries to salvage this broken relationship.

He starts to pace around the small apartment running his ring clad fingers through his hair. The dim lights add to the somber mood, but it also helps. Not being able to see every pained expression on his face. Him not being able to see mine as well.

“I can fix this. S’all gonna be okay. I love you, baby. Let me try, please.” He says coming to the couch and kneeling, cupping my tear soaked face. I grab his warm hands and put them at his sides. He looks down and sniffles. Whimpers escape my lips at the sight of him being in pain. But I shouldn’t feel sorry for him.

“You can’t fix it. It’s done and over with. A drunk mind speaks a sober heart after all.” He looks up at me with a somber expression. Tears keep spilling out of his eyes like a never ending river. I close my eyes, stopping myself from wiping the sadness off of his face.

“But I love you. So so much. It was so stupid of me. Please.” He whispers. He grabs my hands and kisses them. He starts kissing my knuckles and up my arms. Leaving a trail of tears and wet kisses all the way up to my jawline. “We’ve only kissed once and it was a quick peck. She’s out of my life completely. I only want you.” His soft lips move against my burning skin as he says that and I allow a whimper to escape.

“I feel like you should leave,” I say just above a whisper. He looks up at me, eyes wide. “No. No, I can’t. Y/n, I want to fix this. I need to fix this. I need you. I can’t lose you.”

“But you can’t!” I exclaim, taking his hands in mine and shaking them for emphasis. “You obviously wanted her a little bit! I know you love me, I do know that. It’s very evident. But not enough to keep me. And you made that quite clear.”

“I don’t know what happened! I wasn’t sober and it just happened. It meant nothing!” He breaks.

“I can’t do this right now. I just...I can’t. I can’t even think straight. I need time to calm down. And to really consider if you mean what you’re saying right now. I can’t just forgive you like that. As much as I want to because I love you more than anything. But I can’t.” I start to sob. “You have to give me time. M’not in the right headspace to make a decision right now.”

He only nods and stands up, readying himself to pack his things to stay somewhere alone. Or so I hope. He huffs and sniffles from time to time while gathering his things and I try my hardest to ignore him.

“You know I love you. So much.” He sighs.

“I know.”

#harry styles #fanfic #imagines #drabble #writing #angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #cheating #request something

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nerdy-bookworm-1998 · 5 years

Text

The Annual Stark Christmas Gala

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Summary: Day 8 of my 25 Days of Christmas Celebration Calendar. It’s time for the annual Stark Christmas Gala, but Y/N isn’t really in the mood. Maybe a new friend can turn that around. Words: 951 Warnings: Fluff A/N: If you liked this please leave feedback/reblogs and consider donating to my Ko-Fi and/or Patreon, links are in my bio. If you would like to be tagged in future works, please send me an ask. Merry Christmas!

The annual Stark Christmas gala was the one party that y/n always looked forward to. This year had been no exception. She had even designed her gown, a floor-length midnight blue silk gown with a sweetheart neckline, black lace on the bodice and three-quarter sleeves, and an intricate silver belt of stars and flowers around her hips, and a dressmaker Pepper had suggested had brought her vision to life. She had paired it with strappy silver stilettos and silver jewelry. Nat had done her make-up; smokey eyes that matched the dress and made her eyes appear larger and doe-like with soft, rosy cheeks and lips, while Wanda had made her hair look soft, shiny and framed her face to perfection.

After all of that preparation, all she wanted to do was go home, slip on one of Steve's flannel shirts and watch Hallmark Christmas movies with a big glass of eggnog. It wasn't that the party wasn't fun, on the contrary, everyone was dancing and laughing. But the one person she wanted to spend the evening with was out on a mission and would only be back in two days.

As she sat at the bar, nursing her candy cane martini, a man with light brown hair and a slightly stocky build approached her. "Is this seat taken?" he asked with a friendly smile. When she waved her hand, signaling for him to go ahead, he sat down beside her and flagged down the bartender to ask for a beer. Once he had his beverage in hand he turned to her, still smiling, "How come you aren't dancing? Is this not your scene?"

"Not exactly, I was looking forward to tonight, but my boyfriend couldn't make it since he has to work," she answers with a wry smile as she sips her drink.

"Aah," he says with an understanding smile, "I wouldn't be here either, but a friend of mine wanted to introduce me to someone she thinks I would hit it off with. Unfortunately, it seems that she hasn't turned up yet so I have been left to my own devices."

"Well, in that case, would you like to join me for a dance? Just because our friends and partners can't be here, doesn't mean that we should mope," she says, hopping off of her seat and holding out her hand to her new friend who takes it and lets her lead him to the dancefloor.

"I'm Derek, by the way," he informs her as he settles his hands on her back.

"Y/N," she grins as she puts her hands on his shoulders and starts leading him around the dancefloor. Six songs later and both of them are exhausted as they make their way back to the bar to order more drinks.

"Oh, Cinderella, your prince has arrived" Nat sing-songs as she slides in next to you, cutting off what you were saying and making your head whip towards the elevator in time to see Steve, Bucky, Sam, Sharon, and Maria exit through the elevator doors and make a beeline for you and Derek. The boys must have just gotten back from their mission as their hair was still damp from their showers. Each of them was looking distinctly dapper in their suits, but y/n's eyes remain fixed on Steve in his midnight blue three-piece suit, crisp white shirt, and silver tie with his hair slicked back.

As the group reaches the bar, Steve pulls his girl into his arms and plants a tender kiss full of promises on her lips before sliding his hand around her waist and flagging down the bartender to order a whiskey on the rocks.

As y/n snuggles into her boyfriend's side she turns her attention back to their friends and Maria who was introducing everyone. "Everyone, this is Derek, he's an old friend of mine. Derek, I see you've already met y/n and Natasha. This is Steve, Bucky, Sharon, and Sam," she says with a mischievous smile.

"Are you the Derek that challenged Maria to a drinking and dancing contest at the bottom of Shield Academy's pool?" Sam asked, already moving closer to the man.

"Yes?" Derek answered, his ears turning red as he laughed at the memory.

"Dude, I have so many questions for you! Let's grab another round then you can tell me and tinman over here about what Maria was like in college," Sam grins widely.

"Only if you and Bucky tell me how you two managed to crash a flight simulator into a wall at NASA," Derek bargains with a grin.

"Deal," Bucky agrees before the three of them head off to one of the couches to swap stories while Maria slips her hand into Sharon's and drags her girlfriend off towards the dancefloor.

"Well, I am going to find Barton, I'm sure he's found something entertaining to do by now," Nat says before flouncing off, leaving the couple alone to enjoy each other's embrace.

"You look gorgeous," Steve smiles lovingly at her before giving her a soft, sweet kiss.

"You don't look too bad yourself, handsome. Now, as much fun as this party has been, why don't we get out of here, go change into something more comfortable and crash in the theatre room with popcorn, a movie, and lots of cuddles?" y/n suggests with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"I'd love that, I've missed you far too much to want to share you with everyone else tonight, I'll meet you there in five minutes?" Steve agrees, grinning like a schoolboy.

"I'll be waiting," she winks before slipping off of the stool and out of the party with a delighted giggle. The gala had definitely been worth the wait.

Tags:

@mcdesij @spiderrrling @arrow-guy @interestedbystanderwrites @murdocksmartinis @gwendelerynan @here2have-fun @bookscoffeeandracoons @bambamwolf87 @loricameback @rockrchick51 @love-nakamura @baebeepeach @timelordy-fangirl2 @jewelofwinter @caramell0w @jewels2876 @ladysergeantbarnes @notawritergettingtherethough @patzammit @fanfictionjunkie1112 @lumar014 @kirstie-evans-writes @robertdowneyhiddleston @lil-lex1 @dragonrosegardens @bookgirlunicorn @farfromshawn @shadymidge @kaithezaftig @that-place-called-middle-earth

#marvel #avengers #25 days of christmas celebration calendar #christmas #christmas fluff #christmas gala #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

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crapitskizaru · 5 years

Text

oooh can i request the red demon spawn, edgelord doctor, our dino and the flamingo brothers with a fem s/o who is taller and older than them but somehow too pure for this world? :> nsfw if you want to tysm :>

Warning: ofc mentions of filth lol

The Red Demon Spawn (205 cm, 6'8")

💥 he might act like it doesn’t bother him on a daily basis, whereas there are few matters that piss him off more than this

💥 since he’s considered himself definitely taller than average and has consequently teased everyone who was ever there to tease, with a strong preference towards Killer, he can’t stand the fact that he’s going to spend the rest of his life looking up to his lover

💥 their height definitely bothers him more than their age, since this Red Ball of Hatred has no restrains to order those who are older Killer-kun; because, in his opinion, it’s the skills that matter most - as well as experience which, especially in OP universe, has nothing to do with age

💥 thank God they’re so innocent and usually just put an end to his routine rampages instead of, heaven forbid, teasing him further

💥 the difference in height definitely acts as an advantage considering all of their bedplays - it makes Kiddo feel even more submissive than usual when he finds himself being the bottom and also more powerful if he gets to dominate over them

bonus:

The Edge Lord (191 cm, 6'3")

☃️ it’s not even that he’s got a problem with their height itself - it’s more about that he feels as if they’re acting superior to him

☃️ and since he’s the omniscient doctor, it hurts his pride more than he’d like to admit

☃️ the fact that they’re older than him doesn’t play a big role in their relationship - just like Kiddo, he’s still very much going to order them around, often forgetting about moderation seeing how the wano arc is going, it doesn’t matter that probably no one listens to him at this point anyway

☃️ in bed, he’d desperately try to maintain dominance over them - using all of the tricks he’s got up his sleeve, if necessary

☃️ even though he puts his defences up as often as he can, seeing how innocent and pure his lover is on a daily basis makes his warm heart enveloped with steel beat a little bit faster

The Dino (233 cm, 7'7")

🦖 he’s the one who treats this as just another excuse to gain his partner’s attention - the fact that he’s so damn tall only makes it harder for him, but he takes it up for a challenge

🦖 what may cause some more confusion is that they’re older than him; everytime Drake gets reminded about it, he can’t help but visualize himself as a lil kid who needs to be taken care of

🦖 how gentle and tender they are only causes The Dino to be more flustered with this whole ordeal - although, he has to admit, those natural charms of theirs surely contributed to him falling so hard for them

🦖 when in between the sheets, he’d quite enjoy being the small spoon and falling asleep in his lover’s arms, feeling as safe as never before

🦖 it’d also make him consider to be the sub, if we’re talking some dirty plays; would allow them to easily gain dominance and shower him with their innocence

Rosie (293 cm, 9'7")

🦋 aw, he’s the most calm and casual one in this scenario for sure

🦋 he just doesn’t pay a lot of attention to it, although he’d totally snap something back if his lover teases him because of how showt and adowabwe he is from their perspective

🦋 the fact that that they’re older? He’d only worry about it in the early stage of their relationship - considering how bossy and dominant his older brother is, Rosie wouldn’t want his partner to behave the same way

🦋 but when he realizes they’re the most innocent creature on Earth, nothing’s going to bother him anymore, especially if we acknowledge him as a switch in bed - his preferences regarding his own position during sex may vary, either according to his or his partner’s mood

Doffy (305 cm,10'0")

🐠 he won’t ever speak a word of it, but it bothers him

🐠 do they feel superior to him? Do they think they have more experience? It makes the man uneasy, since he’s so used to his position of being the boss

🐠 all of his doubts and biases go away whenever he sees that his lover doesn’t have any of that in mind - they just want to have a normal relationship with him, not take over his title and kingdom usually people with too much power start being paranoid about it; lookin’ at u, macbeth

🐠 he’s a smart man, so, if anything, he seeks advice from his partner, provided that he knows they have more experience in a certain field than he does

🐠 in bed, he likes the view of them pleasuring themselves and being on top - he’s also up for dominance fights, which he usually makes a point of honour to win

#donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #eustass kid #trafalgar law #x drake #diez drake #one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece imagine #op imagines #op imagine #op headcanons #xoxobb #dinofilth

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hopeishappinessff · 6 years

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Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 2

Hope

I stayed stock still on my bed, doing everything that I could possibly think of to busy myself rather than focus any more than I already had in the stairwell on Benny or Taylor. Destani, being the little fast tail that she was, made it a point to put on quite the show for the boys while searching for her phone. The thing was right there in her purse, which was on the corner of her bed beside her, yet she searched frantically all over her half of the room for it as if she wasn’t already well aware of where it was.

“Damn, I can’t find this thing anywhere.” She said, halting her frantic search and standing beside her bed, directly beside her purse, running her hand over the top of her muddled curls. I rolled my eyes at her antics and decided that if these guys were going to leave as quickly as I wanted them to, I should probably point her in the obvious direction of her phone. Sliding off the edge of my bed, I eased forward to reach for her purse and pulled her phone out once I had it in my grasp, tossing it over to the center of her bed.

She turned to peer down at it as it landed with a soft thud on her bare mattress and with the cutest little giggle, she turned to face me “Thanks Sy… where was it?”

I glared at her for a moment, thinking to myself how well I was going to go off on her as soon as these guys left “It was in your purse Destani… right there on the corner of your bed.”

“Oh, I swear if you weren’t my bestfriend I would be so lost sometimes.” They’re about to leave Sy’Diyah… they’re about to leave and she’ll stop this nonsense as soon as they’re gone.

She handed her phone over to Taylor and smirked, resting her hand against her hip and biting down on her bottom lip with lust glimmering in her eyes. As I sat there observing her, I was starting to find it more and more difficult to not call her out on her phony act. I kept my arms crossed over my chest and one leg crossed naturally over the other, shaking it frenziedly from utter irritation. I could feel a pair of overly immersed eyes gazing in my direction and though I didn’t want to look up to find out exactly where this piercing glare was coming from, I couldn’t help myself and I slowly raised my gaze anyway.

There, over beside our wide-open door, stood Benny… staring right at me with a smirk tugging at his handsome lips. He gave me a knowing look, as if to say he understood exactly how I was feeling at this very moment. His friend was just as wrapped up in talking to Destani as she was with him and just watching the two of them laughing and giggling in each other’s faces must have been just as annoying for him as it was for me. We both diverted our attention to the two flirting culprits, locked gazes once again, then smiled at each other mutely conveying our displeasure.

“So, are you two roommates or what?” Destani inquired, sliding her phone back into her purse as Taylor slipped his back into his pocket.

“Nah, I got a roommate… some dude named Jonah. I don’t know what’s up with Benny, but his roommate is a no show so far.” Taylor explained, moving over toward Benny and the door.

“Yeah, our coach told me dude’s not showing until sometime later this week, so it’s just me right now.” Benny explained. I took very little interest in their small banter and I chose, instead, to busy myself with sliding my bags off my bed and onto the floor so that I could make the bed up.

“Well, um… I guess we’ll talk to you guys later then. Maybe ya’ll can show us around the campus, you know.” Destani said, smiling and combing a few strands of her hair behind her right ear.

“Yeah definitely. Aye, as a matter of fact if ya’ll ain’t doing nothing later on tonight, hit me up and we can at least take a quick glimpse at the campus.” Taylor suggested, licking his plump rosy lips to emphasize the smirk on his face.

Destani’s beam seemed to widen as she nodded her head in accord “Yeah… yeah, we can do that.”

At that point, I went ahead and tuned the two of them out completely just as I got my last bag off my bed and picked up the plastic carrier carrying my new comforter. I could feel someone’s presence just to the right of me and I quickly caught the light and airy aroma of Boss, an intoxicating cologne that I was used to smelling only when Chris was around. I swung my head around, excited just from the memory of his smell, only to be disheartened by the sight of Benny.

“Uh, you know… I was wondering, I’m not tryna come on too strong or anything, but do you… think we could exchange numbers as well?” He asked, raising his brows and biting down on the corner of his bottom lip hesitantly. I stared at him for a second, considering exactly how I could say no without hurting his feelings “Um, Benny… I don’t… I mean, I really wouldn’t mind, but… I kind of have a boyfriend.”

His head jerked back slightly in surprise and his lips shaped into a small ‘o’, because clearly he’d just been caught off guard by my response “Oh, I’m sorry… I had no idea. I ain’t mean to, you know…”

I smiled cordially and shook my head “It’s okay. I mean, I would exchange with you, but my boyfriend… he’s a little…” I tilted my head to one side thoughtfully, twisting my lips as I considered the appropriate term to describe Chris “…Overprotective.” “Yeah, I mean I understand that. I don’t even blame him for being that way with such a beautiful girl.”

I smiled and sighed… this guy was really working in the charm. With no intention of allowing him to stand there any longer, throwing so much of this alluring charisma at me, I slowly eased around him and made my way over toward the door, thanking him for his compliment as I went. He trailed along behind me to his and Taylor’s exit, chuckling and rubbing nervously at the back of his neck “You know, I hope I ain’t make you uncomfortable or anything. Like I said, I ain’t mean to come on too strong, really. I just, you know… ain’t know.”

“It’s okay, I mean how were you supposed to know that without me telling you?” I asked as I turned to face him with my hands crossed tight over my chest.

He stared at me with his bottom lip tucked into his mouth then chuckled and nodded “Yeah, I guess you right. But I still gotta apologize though… I really was in the wrong for that.”

I could hear both Destani and Taylor shuffling toward the door behind Benny and I, and I turned to face them and frowned deeply at the sight of her giggling in his face like an inexperienced school girl who had yet to be exposed to a joke.

“Well, like I said… hopefully we can meet up with the two of you later.” She spoke in a blustery tone, as if she were completely out of breath because of her simple laughter.

“I don’t know about my dude Ben here, but I know I’ll be looking forward to that. And, it’s… Sy’Diyah, right?” Taylor asked, stopping a few feet away from me with a flirtatious smirk on his face, openly dragging his eyes over the length of my body, “It was nice to meet you. We’ll see ya’ll later, aiight.” I stood just beside the door as they marched out and held onto the knob, preparing to slam the door shut and swing around with vengeance to reprimand Destani.

“Damn, these niggas at this fucking school are no got damn joke girl!” She exclaimed, propping her elbow up on my shoulder as if it were any old flat surface for her to rest on. I immediately shrugged her off me and closed the door, turning to glare at her through squinted and rage infested orbs.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She asked.

“We,” I stomped off past her, brushing roughly against her shoulder as I did so, “Need to talk.”

Chris

I am tired. No, scratch that… I’m fucking exhausted right now and this nigga just won’t get the fucking hint and take a break. My roommate Trent and I have both been up, working our asses off since about six thirty this morning and I would expect the nigga to be just as worn out as I, but no… he wanna take his ass in the living room of our apartment style dorm to make the most noise he can with as many people that’s willing to make noise at this hour with him.

I been tossing and turning for the past twenty minutes and in all honestly, I’m ‘bout two and a half seconds from freaking the fuck out and setting off on a mission to break this lil fucking shindig up. Since I been here at Syracuse, I been taking more anger management courses for my supposed ‘over aggressive behavior on the court’ and my coach and the head of the athletic department have even threatened to prescribe me with a dose of lithium and bupropion, which are supposed to be mood stabilizers… specifically for people with bipolar disorder. I nearly lost my entire mind when my coach broke the news to me that he believed me to be bipolar and I was seconds away from living up to his opinion and going super saiyan on his ass when he gave me the choices of either taking the medicine, going to the classes, or riding the bench for the first three games if I didn’t want to cooperate. Of course I went with the classes, but not without a light argument first.

With a loud and exasperated huff, I turned my boxer clad body over onto my back, sighing and briefly enjoying the cool sensation of my sheets against my bare back. Everything about this bed was incredibly comfortable, from the sheets to the memory foam that formed the actual mattress itself… it was a bed fit for a king, which was apparently what the coaches believed we all deserved as some of not only the best college basketball players on the East coast, but in the Nation as well. Here, at Syracuse, the athletes were treated with the upmost respect and just about everyone on the fucking campus catered to all of us, including the school itself. For example, if I decided I wanted take a trip back home to Virginia to see my son for a weekend, it was the school’s job to supply the first class plane ticket along with a designated individual on the other end to pick my ass up. Now, I would be damned if I chose to take a three-game seater rather than taking anger management classes and hitting the court to play my ass off… the entire campus catered to each of us, how much better could this shit get?

Though I would have loved to enjoy every inch of my memory foam in a drunken slumber of sleep, I couldn’t seem to do that successfully with my bitch ass roommate being such a fucking obnoxious ass in the other room. I shut my eyes for a moment and used the count to twenty method that my therapist created just for me, seeing as counting as far as ten did absolutely nothing for my irritation. After I reached about thirty-one and realized I was more pissed off than before I started the count, I sat up and slid my body over to the edge of my bed. Standing up at my full six-foot two stature, I sighed and walked around my bed toward the door and glanced back at the bright neon green 2:03 glaring at me from the alarm clock on my nightstand. ‘This nigga cannot be fucking serious,’ I thought to myself, ‘two in the got damn morning, drill at six-thirty sharp, and he still in here fucking around.’

I wasted no time snatching the bedroom door open, forming my eyes into deadly slits as I scoped the room for Trent and the other culprits responsible for keeping me from that beautiful thing called sleep that I desperately craved. Spotting the nigga sprawled out on the couch across from the TV with one bitch straddling his lap, one sitting up on the arm of the couch, two niggas over at the four-person dining table playing cards, and two bitches with them… I scoffed and took a step out into the room.

“Chriiiiiiiissss… my nigggggaaaaaa. What’s good bro? Why you ain’t in here catching up on some fun?” He asked and from the way he annoyingly slurred my name, I could tell the nigga was pretty fucked up.

“Come in here nigga… come, I got you one. I called her for you. Come get her, ‘cause she a fiesty lil thing.” He muttered in a jumbled mess that sounded like pure shit to my ears. I glanced over at the girl sitting up on the arm of the couch beside him and didn’t even bother to smile at her as she smirked and looked me up and down… my mind was set that everyone in this room was my enemy at this point and I would only give them about one minute to get the fuck out.

“Nah Trent, man we got drills at six-thirty on the dot. I think it’s time for your company to go.” I spoke, surprisingly, calm and though I could feel anger boiling in the pit of my stomach, I was quite taken aback by just how chill I managed to keep myself.

“Chriiiiiiissssss, no, no, nooooo dude. The bitches, the pussy… it’s for you. For us. The school year is about to start and we ain’t had no fun yet. Come get your fun nigga… she sitting right here.” He continued to slur as he reached back and grabbed a hold of the girl’s thigh, causing her to giggle and lick her lips at me, and me to roll my eyes and sigh.

“Trent, please man… I don’t wanna say this shit again. Let your company go and we can celebrate another night.” Hell nah I wasn’t planning on celebrating shit any other night with this nigga, but if that’s what it took to get him to abide by what I was asking, then hell… let the lie ooze from my lips like water. He only laughed in my face though… he laughed and reached for the bottle of bud light sitting on the edge of the coffee table. The bottle of bud light… with a sigh, I calmly walked over to the small kitchen on the opposite side of the living room and just as I suspected, there were two boxes of bud light chilling on one of the counters. I glanced through the opening behind the sink into the living room and after noticing everyone minding their own business, paying no attention to little ole me, I grabbed one of the entire cases of booze and marched back out into the living room.

Without so much as a warning, I stopped in the middle of the room, took one last look around then lifted the box high with one hand and slammed it smack dab onto the hardwood floor. The glass bottles shattered all over the floor beneath my Nike socked feet and the intoxicating beverage from each glass bottle splattered onto the floor, but I really ain’t give two shits. The clatter instantly got Trent and his two broads to shut up and look up at me and the niggas and bitches at the table beside me did the same.

“Now, Imma say this shit one more fucking time… you two,” I spoke menacingly low as I pointed at the girls on the couch with Trent, “And all of you,” I said, again pointing back at the table’s occupants, “Really need to get the fuck out and you need to do it now. I don’t know why you ain’t listen when I said it politely five minutes ago when I walked out here, but I’m really not playing no more… leave.”

With that, I peered around the room to make sure these stupid asses weren’t simply staring at me like I was joking. They weren’t and for that, I was thankful… I was really not in the mood to be whooping some hard-headed niggas asses tonight nor did I feel like wasting my energy cussing some bitches out. I continued to stand there, watching them quietly file out the designated exit and once they were out the door, I slammed it shut and turned to Trent who was already staring at me cautiously “Make sure you clean this shit up before you hit the sack, aiight… bro.”

I gave him no time to respond… I’d already stepped right over the mess on the floor and I was well on my way back to my room. I shut the door behind myself, reached down to pull my socks off, and sighed… I was surprised to find that I even had the energy to put on such a show, but I did and now I was even more tired than I was when I initially climbed out my luxurious bed.

I stopped just beside my bed with my back facing it and fell, with an exaggerated plop, on the soft body suctioning mattress. I licked my lips and stuck my tongue out, toying with the piercing I’d gotten redone at the beginning of the summer as I stared at the blank white and depressing wall across from me. I wanted to put up some sort of artwork to liven it up a bit, but I didn’t plan on staying in this dorm with ole fuck boy much longer so I didn’t even see a reason to bother.

Just as I dropped my eyes down to a squint and finally shut them, only about half a second away from sleep, my phone vibrated wildly against the nightstand beside the bed. I slowly parted my lids and stared straight ahead for a moment then with a grunt, I reached over for the obnoxious device, not even bothering to look down at the caller id before swiping my thumb across the screen.

“Yo.” I greeted with a yawn.

“Aww, somebody is tired huh? I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Her sweet, addictive voice filled my ear and sent the most sudden jolt of excitement shooting from my head to my toes, pausing expectantly in the center of my boxers.

“Baby! Nah, I was up… what you still doing up though?” I asked, yawning once more, only this time I held it in as best as I could just so she wouldn’t hear it and fuss about me not getting any sleep. I would stay up until six thirty on the dot on this phone with her if she asked me to.

She giggled and I bit down on my bottom lip, absolutely adoring the cute sound of her perfect laugh “We just finished putting most of our stuff away… I haven’t even looked at a clock yet. What time is it?”

“Hmm,” I glanced over at the alarm clock resting on the nightstand and contemplated whether I should even tell her… I already knew what she would say if I did confess the actual time, “It’s not too late.”

While I was busy looking over at my alarm clock, I guess she decided to find out the time on her own and I shut my eyes and prepared for her rant when I heard her gasp “Oh my gosh, it’s almost three o’clock in the morning! I’m so sorry… you need to go to sleep. You said your drills are always early on weekdays… you shouldn’t be up now.”

“Nah baby, I’m fine. If I was tired, I woulda been sleep by now,” I half lied, knowing I didn’t give a real fuck what the hour was… if I got to talk to this gorgeous little lady, I’d be up with no complaints, “And if you dare hang up on me thinking you gone get me to go to sleep, I’m only gonna call you back ‘til you answer.”

She went silent for a second and I hoped that she really hadn’t hung up the damn phone on me “Okay, but I don’t want to be the reason you’re tired in the middle of your drills.” She nearly whispered in her infamous ‘girlfriend’ tone. I chuckled to myself as I thought about that… she had a knack for purposely doing certain shit that she claimed good girlfriends did to care for their man and whenever she dropped her voice to that particular octave, I knew that mode was kicking in.

“Trust me love, you won’t be… I’m fine. Now stop worrying about me and tell me how your day was.”

She released an exasperated sigh and I could only imagine the expression on her face… I just knew she was biting down on her bottom lip, thinking over exactly what she wanted to say before she said it “Well, it started out okay. My dad helped Dez and I get situated in my room then he left. We… met some new people here in the dorm and they were really nice.”

The uncertainty in her tone instantly worried me and I furrowed my brows as I pushed myself up onto my elbows and licked my steadily drying lips “What kinda people?”

“Just some people Chris. They offered to show us around the campus later and they were just really… friendly.”

I already knew that by ‘people’ she meant niggas and of course she wasn’t about to come right out and say that shit, so I went ahead and took it upon myself to assume that that’s who she was speaking of “Well maybe you should tell these nig… people, that you can figure out where everything is on campus just fine and that you don’t need no damn help.”

“Chris, stop it. This campus is huge and we’re gonna need someone to show us around a little. I don’t want to be late on my first day of classes because I was being picky all because you don’t want me talking to certain people.” She was making every bit of sense, but I truly didn’t care… with me being all the way on the east coast and her being so far away, I had to stay on my p’s and q’s with who she associated with. Not saying that she would do anything to put our relationship in jeopardy, but still… I mean, I’m sure she was probably thinking the same way with me.

“We already talked about this shit Sy’Diyah… no introductions because that only starts shit that don’t need to be started and apparently, you already been well introduced to some ‘person’ that you probably shouldn’t have for you to be sounding so giddy about this lil campus tour.”

“I’m not sounding giddy about anything. I just…” She paused and released a sigh and I could hear her shifting around before bringing the phone back to her ear, “I knew that if I just came right out and told you who really offered to show us around, you’d freak out and I don’t feel like hearing that.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to fucking freak out if you would just make this shit easy by at least thinking about the rules we made before you start doing shit like that.” I knew the tone of my voice along with my choice of words was harsh, but I couldn’t help it… she just brought that outta me.

“Stop cursing at me Chris. All I wanna do is talk to you and if you keep talking like that, I’m gonna hang up.” She muttered. Immediately falling into hush mode, I thought over what she said and realized she was right… like I said before, with the distance between us playing such a major role in this, I’d do anything to stay on the phone with her as long as I could and I couldn’t have her hanging up on me.

“I’m sorry, but baby please listen to me okay… don’t break the rules. I’m not there and you ain’t here and I know I’m not about to think twice about even glancing at another female, but I just wanna make sure them niggas around there don’t tempt you all because I’m not there.”

“No one is tempting me Charlie, don’t worry about that. Destani was the one overcome with temptation and I actually just finished talking to her about that.”

I could hear a feminine voice speaking loudly in the background and by the ghetto twang written all over it, I already knew it was Destani with her loud ass. Hope laughed at whatever she was saying and I couldn’t help but smile as I listened to her heartfelt giggle… the shit was just too damn cute.

“Destani said hi and she…” Her words became muffled suddenly and I furrowed my brows as I listened intently to figure out what was going on.

“Look nigga, she ain’t tempted with nothing aiight. I got her in check down here and I’m not about to let her fuck up. I got you Breezy… trust me.”

I pushed myself into an upright position at the edge of the bed and laughed at Destani’s method of reassurance “Imma trust you Dez, but don’t let me find out you got my girl down there fucking with them Georgia niggas… you know I’ll come down there and fuck that whole state up.”

She smacked her lips and I smirked, bracing myself for her oncoming slew of harsh words “Look light bright ass nigga, if you sitting up there tryna lowkey call my ass a hoe ‘cause you think I’m ‘bout to have these niggas turn your girl out, you can really kiss my high yellow ass. Ain’t nobody ‘bout to have Sy doing shit, but keeping her damn head in these books, but I can tell you this much… keep fucking with me with your smart-ass mouth, see how quick I purposely introduce her to one of these fine young southern men.”

“Aiight Destani, damn… I was just playing. I wasn’t even tryna call you no damn hoe in the first place,” I mumbled, chuckling softly to myself, “Put my baby back on the phone.”

I could clearly hear her still cursing my name while handing the phone over to Hope and I could only shake my head at her… the girl was truly a character.

“Geez, she is such a handful,” Hope said once she had her phone back in her possession, “But listen Charlie… I feel really bad having you on the phone for so long. You really need to get some rest and I’m not making it any better by keeping you up. Go to sleep now and call me back as soon as you get some spare time tomorrow.” She definitely didn’t need to tell me twice… hell, I’d call her in the middle of practice if she wanted me to.

“Aiight babe, I still don’t understand why you keep tryna rush me off the phone though. You know this is your second time doing that to me.” I said in a hushed tone, knowing it would get to her.

“Aww, Charlie Brown… I’m not trying to rush you off the phone, I just really don’t want you to be tired at practice.” She said and I smiled… I knew I got her with that one and if I calculated right, I’d just bought myself about fifteen more minutes to talk to her.

“I told you I’m not tired though, so the way I see it… you are rushing me off the phone, but that’s fine though. I’ll just go now.” I held my breath and went completely silent, waiting to see how she would react.

“Charlie… Chris? I know you’re still there. Chris… this isn’t funny.” I burst into a hearty bustle of laughter at her expense… I knew it wasn’t funny to trick her like that, but knowing that she was just that gullible to my humor, I couldn’t even help it.

“You’re not funny Charlie… don’t hang up on me.” She pouted.

“I’m not gonna hang up babe, I was just joking.” I said as my laughter died down.

“Well you joke too much. I was calling to ask you how your day was, but you won’t even give me a chance to ask.”

Turning my body with my back facing the headboard, I plopped back against the two soft down pillows that I had stacked there “I’m sorry baby mama. Go ahead… ask me how my day was.”

“Thank you… how was your day, Charlie?” I heard the grin in her voice and I could only smile widely as I thought over the events of the day.

“My day was good baby, thanks for asking.” She giggled softly and I found myself surrendering to the urge to sink my teeth into my bottom lip and slide my hand over my sore abdomen, edging closer and closer to the brim of my boxers.

“Well that’s good. How was your practice?” She asked. Rolling my eyes up toward the ceiling, I sighed… in all honesty, I really didn’t even wanna discuss the hell of a day I’d had, but she asked so I suppose I had to spill.

“The shit was seven hours too long and exhausting. My body feels like a ton of bricks that I can barely move right now.” I confessed.

“Aww, I’m sorry. I wish I was there to at least give you a massage or something.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and slowly rolled over onto my stomach, mushing my face down into my pillow with a low groan… I swear, if she didn’t stop I would so hop my ass on the next fucking flight to Georgia.

“Baby, come on… that’s not helping me at all right now.” I spoke into my pillow, barely loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m sorry… I was just saying,” She laughed, “But I really wish your coach would stop pushing you guys so hard. You’re only human and you can only handle so much.”

Another reason why I loved this girl more than the air that I breathed… what female do you know that could make her man feel this good with such a simple statement, even from such a distance?

“And I wish somebody could tell my fucking roommate that, ‘cause I swear this nigga just don’t know when to give up.”

“What did he do?” She asked, her voice low and full of concern.

“He apparently don’t understand the concept of going to practice, coming back to the room to eat and shower, then taking his ass to bed like a normal, tired citizen. Somewhere in there, this bitch just insists on getting stupid drunk and partying ‘til he can’t even wake up in the morning.”

“Was he doing all this in there while you were trying to get some rest? Is that why you’re so upset? Don’t let him get you angry Chris… just talk to your coach.”

“I ain’t really get upset about it. I’m not tryna lose my cool with this nigga and get my ass benched fucking around with coach. I plan to talk to him in the morning about this though and if something’s not done, I’m popping the fuck off and I’m choking this bitch nigga.”

She sighed and I could tell my language and the tone of my voice wasn’t doing much to convince her that I didn’t really get upset. After I’d told her that my coach had me seeing a therapist for my temper, she couldn’t have been more excited and she’d been supporting me every step of the way since. Whenever I do tend to get a bit irritated, to the point that I know I’m gonna lose control, I make sure to call her and she calms me down every time. I don’t know and never could figure out what it was, but it was just something about her… her presence, her face, even just her voice that kept me calm, cool, and collected.

“From the way you’re talking, it sounds to me like you got a little more than upset. We talked about this before Chris… you need to learn how to control yourself, because obviously I can’t always be there. If something or someone is bothering you, the first measure that you take to solve the problem can’t always be harming them to make yourself feel better. You’re supposed to use some of the methods that the therapist taught you to restrain yourself.”

“I know babe and I tried one of the methods tonight with this nigga and it barely worked. Besides, I was tired then and you know if you tired and somebody is keeping you from your sleep, you would probably bitch them out too.” I was listening to her, no doubt, but I still believed I had every reason to react the way I did with that nigga. He was disrespectful, period.

“No, I would politely tell them that I’m tired and it would be nice if they would keep their volume down so I can get some rest.”

I kept quiet as I took in every word she said and replayed it all over in my mind. Everything she’d said was right and eventually, I knew that I’d have to learn how to push past my anger and figure out other methods to solve whatever issues that caused me to be angry in the first place. God, I hated when she did this to me… she had such a knack for backing me into corners with her beautiful words of wisdom, leaving me utterly speechless and left to dwell on the petty actions I’d initially taken to solve my problems. Sometimes I honestly believed the girl was much wiser than her years.

“Well, you’re getting quiet on me now so I guess that means you’re tired of talking. I’m gonna let you go and get your rest now, okay.”

I frowned and closed my eyes, already feeling the effects of having listened to her soothing voice, which calmed me considerably “Okay.”

“I love you and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She nearly whispered in that sweet, angelic voice of hers.

“I love you too.”

“Goodnight and sleep tight.”

“I will,” My eyes snatched open suddenly and I cleared my throat to get her attention before she hung up, “Baby, wait.”

“Hmm?” She purred.

“No more introductions… and no friendly little campus tours tomorrow or any other day, right?”

She giggled for the last time and I shut my eyes briefly and smiled, seriously willing myself not to moan right in her ear at the sound “Yes Chris, no more introductions… and no friendly campus tours, ever.”

“Good. Now goodnight… and I hope you have sweet, wet dreams about me tonight.”

She gasped and I snickered… I just had to get her one more time before I let her go “Goodnight Charlie… I swear you’re such a perv.” After blowing her a kiss over the line, we both hung up and I placed my phone back on its charger on the nightstand then rolled over onto my back, finally ready to doze off into a deep slumber… with Hope’s sugary sweet voice still on my brain like a lullaby pushing me off to sleep.

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfcition #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanfiction #fanfic

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thefanfichotspot · 7 years

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one

I was ecstatic to be a father. Not an ounce of me regretted anything that happened, and not a fiber in my body was nervous. I chose to embrace fatherhood with my all the second Cameron told me she was pregnant. While the conception of our daughter isn’t ideal, it didn’t matter to either of us. What mattered was we were expecting a beautiful little girl. Her room at my house was almost done and likewise for her mom’s house. She had two parents that loved her more than anything in this world and would do anything to keep her safe. She and I agreed that we wouldn’t become a statistic - having a child out of wedlock with parents that only argued about child support and things of that nature. Cam and I already agreed to the terms of how we would split custody and I was more than happy to give her two grand a month - and more if she needed it.

The crackling of the hot oil as it cooked the chicken dragged me from my thoughts, and I reached over to turn the dial down to lower the heat. I tossed a still-hot French fry in my mouth as I waited and dusted the flour off my hands. I hadn’t even swallowed yet, but the doorbell pulled me away from my current task at hand. I crossed the foyer and swung the door open, my grin mirroring the woman’s on the other side. “Baby moms!”

She couldn’t help but cut her eyes at me playfully, a small giggle eliciting from her lips as she kicked her shoes off and discarded them by the door. “That name is going to be the death of me, Trey. Am I early?”

I shrugged, and she followed me into the kitchen. I watched her slide into a chair at the kitchen table, her palm on her protruding belly protectively. “Lil bit, but it’s cool. The first batch is almost done anyway.” I dumped a handful of fries onto a plate and set it in front of her, sprinkling some seasoned salt on top.

“First batch of what? Trey, what are you feeding us?” Nevertheless, she helped herself.

“I told you I was gonna cook for you when you came over to talk, Cam,” I tittered, stealing a fry for myself. “But if you must know, it’s fried chicken and as you can see, French fries. I can make you something else if you want, I got some -”

“No no!” She stopped me with a laugh. “Trey this is fine, really. We’re hungry anyway. Isn’t that right, princess?” She tipped her chin downwards as she spoke to our unborn and I chuckled. “She said yes.”

“I heard her,” I teased. I got a pitcher of fresh lemonade from the fridge and poured her a glass with some ice cubes. “Big ass mouth like her dad.” When the chicken strips were nice and crispy, I removed them from the cooking oil to dry a little and to cool off, then I loaded up some plates for the both of us. “Careful, they’re still hot.”

She helped herself to some ketchup from the fridge and returned to her spot, squirting a puddle of it in the corner of her plate. “You know you never really told me where you learned to cook.”

“Shit, I thought I did,” I shrugged. “Learned from my mumma and grumma.”

She frowned, mouthing the words to herself. “Your who?”

I found myself laughing at her confusion. “My mom and grandma. That’s what I’ve always called them. Forrest and I both do.” It was true. I don’t remember how I got those names but they just stuck and when my brother grew up he wanted to do everything I did so of course he stole those names as well. Maybe it’s a southern thing, or maybe we’re just weird as hell. It was just me, my brother, and my mom in Richmond, Virginia. With the help of her mom, we grew into respectful young men and I was proud of the both of us. Forrest and I had different dads who weren’t in the picture, but that didn’t matter. We didn’t need them. “Anyway, I didn’t have a dad growing up, so I spent the majority of my time in the kitchen with my mom and grandma. Watching and learning.”

She nodded with her mouth full. “So you're still not in contact with your dad at all? Even now? You ever meet him?”

I shook my head as I swallowed. “He didn't care so I stopped waiting for my phone to ring. When I was younger, I always asked my mom if he was coming for my birthday or Christmas or something and she always said no. So I put two and two together and I stopped giving a fuck altogether.” I've only seen pictures of my dad when I worked up enough guts to look him up on Facebook. When I found what I was looking for, I deleted my account and never looked back. My mom doesn't even know I did it. Since Forrest and I have different dads, I briefly wondered if they left because of her - as if they were utterly repulsed by her or something. That thought didn't last long. They were ain't shit niggas and that's the end of that. “I ain't gonna do that to our kid.”

Cameron didn't have all those mood swings throughout her pregnancy. She wasn't over emotional all the time like people claim - if anything, she became overjoyed at the smallest things. Like now, she had tears in her eyes at my promise to her and our child. It gave me a good feeling. “That's sweet, Trey.” She finished off her fries and I unloaded another round of chicken to set aside in case she wanted more. “So I came over to talk to you about her, actually. We kinda discussed this but I wanted your opinion again.”

“Yeah, anything. What's up?”

She drummed her perfectly manicured nails against the hard surface and gnawed at her bottom lip. “I hope this isn't a weird question, but would you consider being there when she's born?”

I never even thought about that possibility. I felt weird since we weren't in a relationship. Yes I know I'm the biological father of the baby, but still. It felt...awkward. “Uh, in the delivery room? Like, as you're pushing? Hell, I never thought about it. I figured you would want your mom or someone else.”

Her lips twisted to the side as if she had something to hide, and the wheels were turning in her mind. “That's something else I wanted to talk to you about, Trey. I don't want to have her in a hospital.”

“You wanna have her in the back of a car or somethin’?”

She giggled with a shake of her head. “What? No, nothing like that. I want to have her at home.”

Oh...oh! “You can do that?” I've never heard of anybody giving birth at home - honestly I didn't know much about the concept to begin with so this was news to me. Intriguing, yes, but also...unnerving.

She nodded slowly, watching and waiting for my reaction. “With a midwife, yes. I can choose to do it in a tub of water too.”

Giving birth. In water. What a concept.

I rubbed the hairs on my chin as I thought. “You want to do it at your house and get blood everywhere? How is that gonna work, Cam?”

She was blushing in embarrassment - I must have sounded crazy. “I, uh, no...shoot, it's not messy like that. It's just more intimate and...never mind. I can do it in a hospital.”

“You're leaving it up to me to decide?” I questioned, chewing on my own lip. “Cam I can't make that decision for you. You're the one with the vagina so I support whatever you wanna do. It sounds interesting, not gonna lie. I'll read up on it so I don't go into it blindly, cool?”

She sipped on her beverage and dragged her eyes to me, her cheeks rosy with nervousness. A flicker of a smile tugged at her lips. “So that's a yes?”

The hopefulness in her pupils sparked a grin and I nodded. “That's a yes. I'm down for whatever you wanna do.”

She threw her arms around me as much as she could around her belly and I held her back, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, Trey! It'll be great, I promise!”

“Speaking of, lemme go get something before I forget.”

Nights were chilly, borderline freezing. I shoved my feet into a pair of timberlands, tossed on a snapback to conceal most of my face and flipped my hood over that as I slipped from the house and locked the door behind me. My breath created thin clouds of fog underneath the full moon, and I shivered at the thoughts of the make-believe monsters that roamed the night hours in search for their next victim.

After all, the freaks come out at night. Do they not?

Don't get it twisted; I'm not a mythical creature such as a vampire or werewolf but I can be seen as a predator that only comes out a night, but I wasn't hungry for flesh or blood. I was hungry for money and power. I craved it, fed on it. Power was in my blood, rushing through my veins.

The usual setting for our meet ups was surrounded by the familiar cars, but I knew better than to park with them; I parked a mile down the road. If shit went left, I didn't want the cops to have any evidence that I was there. Sure they could get my fingerprints, but I wasn't in the system because I didn't have a record - I made sure of that.

I tipped my chin downward with a nod as I slipped through the large metal door, brushing past the usual lookout. He returned my gesture with only a brief glance.

The rumble of voices welcomed me like any other night, only this time I could hear bits and pieces of what they were talking about and it didn't sound like it was good news. Usually we all discussed business and what wagers we were interested in regarding sports, but not tonight. The head of the establishment, Spyder, waved me over upon seeing me. “Trigga, I'm surprised you showed up tonight.”

I had an uneasy feeling, but I held my poker face. Always. “Why wouldn't I? What's goin’ on?”

He laughed out loud, “You haven't heard? One of these niggas tipped off the cops.” He narrowed his eyes at me accusingly, his graying eyebrows knitting together in the middle of his forehead.

“You don't think I told anybody, do you?” I barked back. I noticed a glass of whiskey in his hand, swirling it around tauntingly. “Spyder you know I wouldn't do that.”

“Do I?”

“I've been here since the beginning! How would I benefit from exposin’ this place?”

With alcohol in one hand, the other held a Cuban cigar. This really was a scene out of a movie or some shit. I briefly wanted to look around for a camera or something. The thin cloud of smoke left his lips slowly, mockingly. He resembled a lion stalking its prey. “You tell me.”

“Fuck this,” I grumbled under my breath. I didn't tell anything to anybody. Why would I? I would go down with all these niggas so why would I risk shit like that? I wouldn't. This was pretty much the highlight of my day, so I didn't see the need to take that away from myself. Spyder was fucking around with me and I did not have the time tonight.

“Yo Trig, you check the score tonight fam?” I didn't remember his name, or meeting him for that matter, but he glanced up from his iPhone screen with a Cheshire Cat smile. “Yo’ ass won! Warriors wiped the floor with the Rockets.”

That's thirty grand in my pocket. I checked the score just to make sure, as everyone was doing, and sure enough. My boys took home another win, even without Steph Curry. It was an easy win, but the punk who bet me didn't know any better; he was new around here. Everyone knows not to bet against the Warriors this season. They lost, what, nine games total in the season? Shit was a no brainer.

I honestly forgot they were playing tonight.

Axel dragged his feet over to me with a duffel bag full of money and he was almost pouting. “Damn man, I knew I shoulda listened to my gut.” He chuckled uneasily as if I was gonna hurt him - which I wasn't. “I figured since Curry was out, they wouldn't stand a chance.”

For this to be his first bet, I did kinda feel bad for him. “My nigga, one guy doesn't make a team. Don't give him that Lebron treatment. He thought he was the best player in the world, even admitted that in an interview, and what happened? He lost to the Warriors. Curry has enough common sense to remain humble.” I scratched at my beard and sighed. “I'll tell you what, keep ten grand for yourself. Just give me twenty.”

His eyes traveled from the bag to myself and back again before he unzipped it and took his cut. He handed the bag over to me and backed away before I changed my mind. With no need to stay any longer, I showed myself out and headed home.

I never accepted alcohol or drugs when I came here. I didn't want anything to sway my thinking, like them other niggas. They made it so easy to manipulate them into betting stupid shit. I used that to my advantage and no one has caught onto my games yet. They were too intoxicated to care that I was blowing through their retirement funds. Might as well just give me their entire life savings.

When I was safely in my car, I discarded my pair of gloves and removed my hat. I'm sure I looked crazy as hell wearing gloves but again, I didn't want to get caught up.

Since I was pretty much right up under Spyder on this food chain, that meant I had a lot of power. People knew not to mess with me when it came to money. I would never threaten physical harm like some of the other guys, but I knew how to get my point across with words; I didn't need to resort to violence. All this power meant I had more to lose, which made it more likely someone would try and jeopardize that for us all.

These guys also knew the risks of getting the authorities involved: making good on these threats. Their families, gone. Their homes, gone. Their lives, gone. It just wasn't worth it.

As long as I knew it wasn't me spilling the beans, I didn't give two fucks about who it was. I wouldn't go down with the rest of these niggas - it was impossible.

Right?

#my work;#trey songz fanfic #j. cole fanfic

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

LOVE ME, WRESTLE ME.

Boyfriendrry blurb of some smutty and fluffy thought.

Taking online classes, resting, doing assignments, then spending some time with Harry and watching a movie at night that always ends up in a good fuck isn't boring but it's insipid.

The cooe of rain outside's soothing and tranquil enough to fill in already comfortable silence between you people, your lips murmuring around the instinctive words from the scrabby page of the Oscar Wilde's; The selfish giant. Your knees are hiked up sitting in the love seat opposite to where Harry's sitting on the messy-ly made bed since you both were feeling a tad lazy and in mood to procrastinate house chores.

You're constantly loosing your focus, because you're terribly horny at the moment and Harry in a baggy yellow pawy sweater spread on his tummy over the bed doing nothing but staring at you like he'd swallow you whole isn't helping at all with the ache between your thighs.

So, you do what was needed to be done.

His eyes follows your commotion as you leave your spot kneeing up on the edge of bed, your crotch against his face and you look down at him with a witty smirk.

"Wrestle me." Your voice challenging. You arch your brow with profound irritation when he intentionally dismisses you off by rumbling his lips to blow away the curls falling over his dooey eyes.

"Pardon?" He creates a noise, within a click of his tongue or his hand against your bare thigh (fondling the soft skin he's obsessed with) that dries your throat with hunger. He heard it right. There was no wavering in what you invited him for.

You guys have this game where he has to make you cum within two minutes and you've to wrestle him off, if you loose and cum you've to keep him warm and sloppy in your mouth until it turns into a nice blowie so it's a win win either way.

You fail every time. Most of it is very obvious.

But, right now he's trying to rile your nerves up by acting like an utterly supine cow.

"Hmm?" The questioning hum turns into a giggly squeal when he grabs your ankle and throws you onto the mattress like a rag doll, "S' fuckin' insatiable all the time ..." He growls towering above you, pushing your thighs apart with a tight grip to your soft fleshy insides that makes you hiss. A laugh pits up in your belly from the thrill of shutting them back and fighting him off to piss him further.

Ofcourse him being stronger than you fails you to do so and a loud moan bubbles around you when he licks his palm till the tips of his fingers and smacks your already soaking centre harshly.

"Fuck." You mewl softly sinking into sheets when he yanks your shorts down leaving you in nothing but his large hoodie, your pussy lips flutter from the heated sensation of your stickiness coming in contact with the sting of his chilly rings.

He pins your wrist atop your head and fits himself between your wide opened legs grinding his hard (trouser clad) prick against your heating centre in vigorous rubs, leaving a burn with every stroke and making you loose your stance with the growing desire to have his fingers inside you.

"C'mon fight me now." He grits. Glowering down at you sternly and your tummy coils against his's pelvis with each nasty roll of his hips, you gasp around a sob when he nips at the soft skin of your jaw. He wants you to surrender yourself to him but your ego's more than that so with a trick of pulling at his hair you flip him on his back and crawl up to straddle his torso jerking his shoulder down.

"Aha!" You grin in a victory. His brows pinches down furiously and before you know his calloused hand came spanking your butt-cheek making your face smash into the crook of his neck with an unexpected vulgar series of moans, "Bratty little fuck doll." He grunts landing another spank right where the first one left crimson imprints, again and again till you're a squirming crying mess.

He slides his two fingers down your puckering rim to where you're dripping with wetness and teases your entrance by never dipping them in till the end but rather stroking the spongy wall of your soppy cunt.

You squeal when he flips you on your tummy and leans all his weight over your back to glide his hand between the compact space of their bottoms, he patches breathy kisses to the side of your neck leaving love marks, sliding in his fingers deep inside that when you feel a certain crack resonating to your ears and shooting pain till your toes making them jelly.

You're fucked.

It all happened from your arm placed at the weird angle while he had your hips in air.

"Harry, I think. I might've broken my wrist." You stammer in a calm voice though, barely able to speak when the pang in your joint's inflaming like a wildfire along with the pleasure that's subsiding into an akward spasmy feeling as you pulsates around his fingers.

"Sucha bullshit excuse to mice outta yer defeat." He rasps to you smugly. Your face scrunches up in pain and your head falls into the throw pillow.

"No . ." You shake your head quickly gulping down the thick tears down your throat and when his head clears out from the fog of lust, noticing the weakness in your words he immediately pulls his digits out, "Holy ... Fuck." You try to stay placid knowing his insides are ticking in panic and is about to explode in one, two and —

"Baby -– how — how are y'so calm? Is it hurting? Show me." The shift in his demeanor is adorable as minutes ago he was about to rail you to unconsciousness and now he's the softest cutest caring boyfriend.

Tears prickles at your waterline when he presses his thumb into your wrist bone ever so diligently and it jolts severe pain up your arm.

"I think it's, 'm so so sorry baby. We should go to hospital. Stay here, yeah?" He tells you cupping your cheeks worriedly and rushes to fetch a wet rag when you nod through a sniff and wobbly lips.

He cleans you off, shushing you with tender kisses to your ankles when the throb got overwhelming. Helps you wearing your jeans and shoes being careful not to hurt your wrist any further in doing so.

"It's okay, you're okay lovie —- if the pain's too much —--- dunno we should probably run to hospital." He's out of breath snatching the keys and his coat taking glances of you after every second to make sure you're okay, more like assuring himself, "Bub it wasn't your fault. It was an accident, I can endure a lil bit pain." Through the whole call ride he was jittery and twitchy waiting for to reach the clinic speedily.

He has you embraced by his side with a careful support of his palm under your wrist so it wouldn't dangle that much as he walks you inside.

The doctor sitting infront of you two stares at the way you both are flushed, rosy cheeks, ruffled hair and sheened skin radiating 'we were in the middle of having great sex.' But, she chooses not to speak as you shrink to Harry's side timidly from the embarrassment and shyness.

Harry just passes you a nervous smile squeezing your shoulder to cheer you up and nudges you when the doctor asks the ever awaiting question.

"So . . . How did it happen?"

"Cupboard —-" You speak.

"She fell of —-" And he speaks at the same time.

You look at eachother with wide shocked eyes but then he clear his throat allowing you to speak, "I was putting some dishes up in the cupboard when I lost my footing and knocked my wrist against it." The doctor surely didn't give into your guys shit. Nodding along to your made up story.

You guys feel exposed when the doctor spoke inspecting Y/N wrist, "The injury caused from the pressure of weight, splinting the bone away and tearing the muscle too ... nothing that wouldn't heal in two weeks. You'll be good with an arm cast and these pain killers."

When you step out into the waiting corridor it feels like your secret has been revealed to every single person sitting there and you pull the strings of your hoodie to cover your face and Harry chuckles kissing your head at your silliness.

Once in the privacy of car he speaks looking at your cast properly, "One thing fo' sure that game isn't made fo' us -- you're too delicate to play it just fo' fun and thrill. Next, time just ask me to fuck you baby and I'll surely do it happily." He sighs a puff of breath kissing your cast and patting it lightly jerking back in horror when you yelp.

"Ouch!" He takes your jaw to kiss your lips upon seeing you grinning at your own misheviousness.

"Ye' batty little creature, stop messin' with your poor boyfriend!" He grumps cheekily at your playfullness.

"'M sorry, daddy will you take care of me?" You blink sickly coy through your lashes. Pouting up at him innocently and he shakes his head bopping your nose.

"You just wait and watch." He kisses the side of your head while reversing the car.

"How about we start from drawing dicks on ye' cast, hmm? How bout that?" He smirks and you gasp surprised at his antics.

"Harry!" The car fills up with laughter and giggles until he takes a rough turn.

"You better drive safe else 'm walking home!"

#harry styles imagines #dirty harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry angst #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry #harry styles #cute harry #fluff #IDK IF YOULL LIKE IT BUT THIS IDEA WAS SWIMMING IN MY DIRTY HEAD FOR SO LONG UNTIL IT ENDED UP BEING A FLUFF

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Note

Please write more of Dove and Harry ? You’d earlier written in ne where she gets lost and Harry can’t find her…. Please some more like that. I really like reading protective Harry for his kids especially daughters!

HARRY HATES A CERATIN PINK BICYCLE BUT DOVE THINKS OTHERWISE :D

Harry has never been this stingy towards things. You don’t hold a beef with stuff round you, right? You hold beefs with actual hell of people who're mighty pests in the name of human being.

But, this. Oh damn this. Four wheeler little pink bicycle, that have sparkling pom-poms around it’s handles, a cute yellow basket corked to it's front and rainbow coloured cups hanging from the back of it’s seat that cackles whenever the wheels roll.

It’s the most obnoxious transporting vehicle, Harry had seen in his whole life. He's kind of grousing in the corner that why out of trillion of toys auntie Gemma had to prove herself the best aunt in the whole world alive and chose this hideous gaggingly pink bicycle.

It just doesn’t makes sense to gift it to a three years old! And when that three years old’s a headstrong little thing, with wilfulness of her daddy and the marbles of kitten in replacement of those eyes.

“Daddy we’ll ‘ve fun, promise!” Her ‘r' vanishes into a whistle since she’s still wary onto speaking huge words, babbling her daddy’s ears off with random shite doesn’t count.

Sometimes Harry thinks; that his 50 years old mum's prisoned and captured into a dainty body of three years old -- and his time has come to get bossed around and scolded for his own good sake.

His mommy in the guise of his little dove.

“How’s tha’ missy!?” Harry squints down at her with his hands fisted on his hips. His fake scowl breaks into a fluttery smile when dove with her grubby pudgy hands pushed the bicycle around, her boot clad feet stomping against the hardwood floor, “Like this daddy!” Her chest heaved from getting tired of pushing it around in circles.

“Y'gonna put y’old man to labour?” When she sees her dad’s strictness resolving into contemplating the idea she squeals out giggles making Harry flinch and cover his ears, He’s sure he’ll end up deaf in his fifties.

Harry feels his chest warm and gooey with fond when she jumps on her tippy toes and wraps herself around Harry’s calves.

“Kay, teddy bear enough of butterin’ dada up.” Harry grunted through his nose ducking down to scoop her up in his embrace and she instantly loops her arms around his neck, her button rosy nose twitching with happiness as she patted his cheek with a toothy grin.

Harry shook his head at her brains, his eyes closed and lips thinned while he tries to announce it to her in the most dramatic way.

“Why’re you the way you’re dovie? He sighs and her response doesn’t baffles him any, “’Cos you.” She whispers into his ear as if it’s the most secretive thing in the world getting his cheek and earlobe wet with her drool.

“Yeah, cos' ‘m your inventor. My bad.”

That’s how they ended up here in the living room since Harry’s still hesitant and scared to let her ride the bicycle outside.

She makes sweet and loud kissy noises dangling her feet in a rhythm messing the already bombed up curls of Harry while he puts protection pads around her knees, he leaned more onto his shins adjusting the strap of her helmet and pinched her chin to make her look at him.

“Hello baby –..,” He opened his mouth to give her instructions when she cut him off with a cute whiny huff and the fold of her arms round her small body, “Daddy ‘m no baby.” Harry rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and bats his lashes.

“F'me you’re.” He tuts with a coo and took her wrist gently to help her slide down the sofa before she could possibly terrorise him more, sometimes Harry has this aching urge to laugh at her statements but it’s not right to his lil bean so he does it when he’s alone to not to hurt her feelings.

She refused any kind of guidance from him with just a single gesture of her palm (he doesn't know how she manages to behave like a 30 at her 3) and he ended up helping her wiggle her bum up the seat anyhow, “Hmm. Y'already know the deal dovlin'.” He knocks on her pink helmet which has tiny cows on it.

She bobbed her head and puckered her lips, Harry being her best telepathic communicator gets the sign and forwards his cheek for her to kiss it.

“Love y'daddy.” Her affection for her dad muffling against his stubble and in droopy voice he mimics her with bright teasing eyes, “wuveee you daddy.”

“Back to work!” Harry commanded moving towards the end of cycle and squeezed her neck tenderly before pushing her around and giggles happily when she squealed out in utter thrill.

“Weeeeeeoiiii!!” Harry joins her putting aside the fact he was very against it moments ago, but the little fun does no harm, right? He did think so.

It has always happened to him in this particular order whenever the things gets into their happy track a downfall is always written for them, just like the time when dove got sick and wouldn’t get any better taking her to hospital got crucial only for them to come back to their family being there for them her grandma and auntie Gems were their to get her recover but she got sick again.

“Alone!” She grumbles trying to move Harry’s hands away but he grips it tighter, “’M big!” She complains feet reaching for the paddles that took a swing.

“Hands on handles!” Not in a mood for her to throw a tantrum after such exhilarating moment Harry dismissed her off with a bit of frown, “Hands on handles! Hands —--,” He shouts anxiously heartbeat racing painfully against his ribs and he feels time slowing down as he watches dove losing her balance – but – puffs out in relief when she thumps against the sofa.

“Shit!” He cries out when the cycle tumbles along dove and falls on her, the poor baby didn’t even got time to process what's happening before the metal basket hits her bottom lip and her elbow hard.

Harry’s fear reeling infront of him, deafening him for a moment.

Immediately, He throws it away from over her half assed about where it lands and bunched her in his arms protectively. Cradling his sweet baby’s face in his palm and his eyes watered up at the bleeding lip and more abrasions on her elbow.

He sucks in a whimper when she tries even not to sniffle being a brave girl for her dad and goes to wipe his tears with her trembling lil hands, “It’s otay daddy.” Harry hiccups into her wrist smacking kisses upon kisses into her palm.

“’M sorry me lil dovlin'.” He sulked wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed her forehead.

It physically pains him to see his Dovie hurt, it makes him sad till long hours.

Call him sensitive but with Dove he’ll never able to hold his tears back, she pulls onto his heart strings the most agonisingly, she comes before anyone else and her safety too.

“No cry.” She pushed him away and pouted leaning to peck his lips and Harry giggles when she wipes the subtle blood stain she got on his mouth with a sheepish smile, “Lets fix your boo boos honey pot.” Harry gave her a weepy smile and pet her head taking them to his room.

He’s really surprised and well very proud that she was so brave for him, in times like these Harry realises if nobody got him his daughter’s gonna be there for him always.

“’M really reallyyyy proud of you sweet pea.” After putting Dove's favourite rapunzel bandages on her gashes Harry showers her in kisses that are loud and exaggerated but full of pride and love for her, making sure to do ‘mwah!’ at each one.

Harry made her chicken nuggies and let her drink orange juice (even though it gives her an achy throat) she’s such a good little briber.

She’s all snuggled in his bed, her face hidden in his chest out of shyness as Anne asks about her accident with a sad pouty smile.

“You gotta be careful next time okay sweetie?” Anne told her. Harry groans when her head perked up with gleam in her eyes, “There’s no next time!” He quips making his point clear.

“Gran’ma you wan’ see?” She blubbers excitedly crawling out from under the covers but carefully Harry catches her ankle and tugs her back towards him which causes the phone to fall from her hands onto the floor.

The clumsy cutie.

“Oh Grandma, you otay????” Her curly head pops from over the mattress and the room fills with laughter at her innocence and dumbness, she's just three, you prick.

“My silly little bear.” Harry’s laugh fades into giggles while he settles her bum on his chest and cuddles her tightly into his neck despite of her whiny protests and squiggles to let her free.

#DADDDYYYY HARRRRYYY #DAD HARRY #YAHOOOO FLUFFIIIESSSSSSS #WRITING #cute harry #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot

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