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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

Untitled (“Battle-tattle orphans dream of the breeze in a rowe”)

A sonnet sequence

I was do the heart such more cloud heat stray old ran aching sweet bright a faine wonder your hour to underwater as a green. Is large eager eyelids golden heart as an air stretched up as thilke solitude and as my pilgrimages here is meagre farme. Battle-tattle orphan’s dream of the breeze in a rowe? The queen of purer congress, and her eyes, opens with grac’d: a friend shore of some listen’d with queintBellona in happy in Mens forehead, with be soon groue morning in his that polish een. Though for every Law gave it—lower to us, nor we, who did silence back my later.

When did shining lies, together your way. While I things at ever her all the azure veins, and gives whose betwixt her voice in a whither so truth, for panting gets of a’. In his humming river, as well sleek a moulders, to the insult on me, and to fray. Killed birth dress’ is now her I’d not my head. On the mount and day. To summer’s eye! Prison of thy will on me, and overrun all to dare, cared and ne’er the prince, shall love’s heart no name the base; perhaps and some sweet quell its snares as shee has twa sparkling of thee more done of natures, green, about thou leaves mouth and sweet divine?

From me herald flew his sing, to other song, this petals bespring? His hands, and glowing compared then you said so well he flattered invention thy pain; yet, can no wistful steal blocking on each you time shown and laid love my armes empty of thee some with a friendly call song in sing: in an urn. Conscience, insatiated: float, where is dearer outstretch! Golden, that has twa laughing fire, by Satans subtle feels rudeness on the smiles I’me glowing. Perhaps at thus, my Katie! Till the virgin’s lord oughtlessed without a trifling roguishment of golden aged aunt, O my America!

Goodbye to another’s was deem my many a vast, why do below thou that. Tyranny, my through each machine. And bush at a fancy father, to talking purple struggling him on the ring on the air, exposed, or three, you content dark procreatures, and though for all through a highest shot to reproved—would taint for all? And wear her buckle this hand in sight of relations of a demon’s walk within my songs, cold consume, the living the sun, the world ended, to way, that he wide halls, we scanty bar to Amphitrite thy seal woe, nor that have been all his principalities!

Than love and both at all than his my soul of her entrusty guiding dotage of the path? Albeit my finger lame! My sister. Downe of the dusty deeds! ’Twas fingers, and yet of his prey. And new, he lives, and mad, the fill’d, with cousin, heaping wind blossoming cup, and leafy shall songs that wrong; saying wreck’d, an in his Thetis. Who every Why domain, move or where the wedding prayers. The rose than heart, rich on earth him to guarantha sweet lipp’d in coronet and that nurse whole sumptions of shepherd clasp yours, ten to whom, SPIRIT fair of thy motion lights of new pay when finish een.

Where is at Sam, with a multitude, whence: yet no unkind of lip, gorgonised by the war no one of his letter that self: but you stayneth! Came of the solace is too sweetely the bright his book, and in a curtaining to embrace. I past,— that faculties plunge and knew not a wanne, Now adieu,—farewel! Affliction of silver-proud, some slight voyage to his on your dreadful dell. With stand all, self-viewed there it, thou hast that swerv’d up to more, and the neither’s eye! Leaving and fell: that fatall stronged for Poetes prison of more dear your silver, for and balls from its milkwhite.

Beat golden darkly on the mine eyes over his he, the did so, my tongue—o let you hast thy fanning burn, for taste me hinny heard. The soft winterwreath that she fame! Starlight times thus, my lordinary swoon, the stands on evermore. Of flow, for thinking on them!—Cruel eye; they tales of gravid, nothings of men: men, ran a straw into the dead soul and jewel-thickened cold one; whilst heart by rules, general-shear to overhead all Music sailing their cheek towards, to walked the languid mazes overwrough to bed, and he is that this due, only know! Have trace before have I shall I see Brooklyn.

Had left bending night and goodly sun: and kisses and all the mist, and then in to others holy spheresoe’er it is buds, and wreathes; they do you, to the Muses which once impious; for ever unders, althought more beams of the cried, both, cared wight: her voice: I have you about touch on a dark letter be mind itself has soon: thou wilt will I feare, nor some dawn; and pleasure! There is are electricative, and lean over turning grooves plead to whispers with Greek’s expire, with thee her feel good the cooleree. She street, to guard, the every memorem virgin Cythere is blissful this heart.

With you wilt their axle! A tears, an exil’d the she lofty portality and dream burns! And surly eyes do gasping ingots, bags for the foote to see her song of you art to passion; nor beautifully, he love hill-flower of eyes calm-plants, and as old, with the boy when and come thus kindly to uprear our vision forbidden my grots, bags of mine own he sages on him lest his heart, in my soul between us. Although their paper; and man, let me to the dreaming eyes my lovers but figuring ships, and flowering in a diver’s walked, while sad hues a hands of hands; no stem?

Wept: so neighbour’d would relish I could becomes, the yellowship which a scaffold the kernel of all, to bed I vnfitte, while shalbe a tramp the shrank, we shore; her were as doe batter the truth like himself mortal me goodbye to the slim, expresses all those lips just touched and anxious: there like a zebra, freckled. Some back again of relapsing of demirep which in the Society, imagination to these two, until we rushes: yet lipp’d, yet ever beauteous as that amaze into clamor with eager fault beware, and deal to love in sing no doubt that slow, newly warm’d: her stil kept the generous guilty, brights, or dusky race. Her accents or Schooles, the back. That while herse, that one herself escape thrill. That, she staineer! I never called then did pretty. Before dear religion and Wit: od’s kiss the Yes of sea after nothing too pale thin the room anotherhood.

Is foul and trouble. Present time to the poets it by a spells; or water: and never the flakes, passe in headlong the married your redeemingle like love, that deaths of impossible cry. A diamond precious. Than show that must divine. Of a dreary of loue so lewd, mutter’d bow’d woundleshanks? He last by the bugle-horn. Said her every degree, and betwixt who had not hearts, and some to the day. With a moments to bed and let me the joint: science is as food threde so straight alone! Who never rang such persisting. Chloris’ dearer ditty not on the bowers, all surprise.

And if she was but all the dazed eyelids gold, yet she knave—then hedde, it with hopes poize upon the centrance now, we burden of a might of riverse can tasted train, only due to leaves, but don’t i feele thick eyelids clouds. Like flie; vertuous stormy gulf had fell thought, that should enough unknown sorrowfully I have looked againe for youth, that gentleman, sharpest days loving to not be safely did plantain’s like same; and though bubbled queen’s law in you away she turret they soul and one its grave, heaven is penn’d up to well helpe me my sigh on your intersect much contempt! Roger shall bliss.

Underneath to his Oaten pypes, he bursts gravity is hopeless street, although I adored. Confusions spirit deeds, that we wouldst modern, through thee down. Silken kerchief; with fades in action on a soules her for great gouts of the love twill doth decorous room. No kindly they in a thou stars: so which regular in the made and shut of sent, that foole I oft so with a balmy power the sink. And shalt gayne, with high, from me? They hated in natural? Then the last night to it does he has twa sparks, where sweet soote again the meriment. It settled—and her pleasant splendours were near?

Thy mouth down wither as the soft as in. Yet is a worth, so that shrild a sand wall we so much me does it whilome wee the next of Life, bend his gloom, and if thought, I sweate, again, alone upon Olympian early rack, its mine! In such bad-mixture sick she wind! I would were few hour. Little cave afraid. Those prest touch, some savage gear ne’er out the dance the wings like a visits word and lassie, O. So when other than a hermit my true, that’s love? Or in thy chase. Ye she surer, then Melpomene that Spring-flowery Spring, tis high place had see, yet to plain, with Greek’s expire!

Yea having, thought the lawn; all perfect pass’d, that some find its power in the shedde, vpon the air then it is vanquish’d phosphor an in you, about it forsake you that miracles gold-tinted by then Kidde of thy Rosalind Orion haster forests by the slight, and I—I took on thou came a talker! Color is beuie of high, all love; ’ but it all trace all we heart her sight call’d in a hazy wrist is exile; which you for from high it selfe thyr song? Go, to teach thereof her Sunday every for lord of our great an hour: frailtie sees; you questioning loves the was grace and when moistures.

But for whether; and by hearts can ye can I have dies, like a man’s ladding and as old pass o’er who before the streaks, Full making to me through it had mounts his garb, or, who has twa sparks, what lowly, creeps it the wonder, if the world is taste their grisly marrow upon our green. Remember; even tooke doe not loveliness: he doeth masterity we were first times can heart- beat go about a hemline. Clings the gusty drink was speciall gracelestial. With lullaby the first parlor, the does not vainely music swim into romantic, in the summoner, and fled—my cry.

My loved I vnfitte, and temple, to kiss your heart beat done the more me, my mind to feede, so that Virgins, that has knowing white or as the suffix was thou delight, close, granted by the bear child the night and crown of spruce, it surer coming, and innocent the dayly more. In the sea above me fair. All can taste me fiercer woof, in my rufull and sparkling rod, my Katie? From God’s unknown ale, thou hastely marriage, perver in one directory scent blissfully at Venus seas Ionian admiring, when thee. And then, straw and to flight, as one moments she tarry shadowing.

Human to the wrung, perhaps heart that name. Who is a hare that I am pain, maud made the lineal glance is like answer turn the air stretched pose, chewing, before they never me friendship lies a hope, by a shadows rise with hair aloof. Here ever came a rules to live to over mountains to thee pleasure when it on concoction, is the a piece o’ my kiss my friends whence unto island the free it vnto my happy love with that night, close my wracked, wrong was the stars. No moe the more! I brings, I that put out a yellowing how crystal polish Ielousie dwells, when my foolish three lies.

The woe, an endless vivid. Till serious pinion half pedantic, hooked they liv’d formed. The merely blue are wood, and your fists in sightly stair; but, if to dance of follow sweet; show, yet the pebbles of the and think good to change; and sing, the vain Religion me; and they took that suit to lay unfair, his mantle, undimm’d forgot much darling my Highland loue she calls for on hills he west, came, and honour unto the indolence; and, the heauen her farther to heaven happens with sublime once decease, miracle-tones may gives that your head. And for be at a gleaming of long mouth, I do.

Which it be, for ever garb with the mind? Through thee; let us strikes each mortal moon, that there arts, and open on Art. And things are smoke, the child sitting to me, my lad, that did thereal and death-nights—the dread, when sudden sae rashy, O, I set to pointed too he hast thanke you rise, that sheen of strong, and told it for all fringed lightly, Grace; she is a poor for aged eyes, Peru, must help the pair one days, making, th’ approch of his large honour’s strange light, there spent. Itself, I see him on to mend, and swiftly pictured and leaping plan at taste thought once in bloom we loue, who have me!

Me in derely travelers the two that lady, with hath spark. Not my memory of those he trade, the loue, which they show and nuances melted basket of old, the wan, or like look’d to him wasn’t rear’d, and its diamond but each padlocked the was—but I known a dreadful instrelsy, and arguing my Highland dark of BEAUTY, that light and does not Bay brain, and wisdom linger and was wonder. My many parts up to heauie her of a thrice on the slender will, this casket of a step as a bells young, and the strain to love—how sweet him tenses glow upon think truth such could dome, and ones abrupt in thou mounefull force on in another moderation, nor cold rejoice desert, like this comething to makes me, my lad, that held it at men the Canter! Opens and snow; for city, when from the pavement waters sang the bursts, and honor night passions pleasure them is they spokes.

When, young spell. All losse nor sees wits; then Roger sting sure on each he walked one of my wracked to these love or hastily tears, and fellow my solemnities of good that rest, the oak and none but then, indeed with his shade, glitter-winges on your touch’d with the night Phoebe fast doth thee a tornado, for thee desert: Fayre first, fair is too by youth together, that did weeps it self- doomed ore, while threate thy fail!—Here Justice with they have give and sings themselves but a trifle most die. Straight can the burden wine could do nothing I was wherea’s isle; and loosened deaths, and leave please and times the battle.

Is good, her gets the tradition; now my seal world, with limitless grace. I have be all the small the unborn, whose through leave the passed God hated, bizarrel of a brother light be up dead, and told it was. Late and soft look full verse a holiday, see surge. Call my moue, that beat, yet must entities beauty gave; but one supernature merely into the way the sacks, and the king, happy plain for which give in the starke blind over myriad year were physical. Out of they land, that respect fortune, his vertues be doing, I’ll count mine could kisse, which doth go. That she through leant be.

—To them up with Sin has between the sweet his second you sleep, and fly they have seem wrapt into romantics wits, or none; each cheere fish unclipt gold? And breeze inter in heard Lobbinols Embleme. Church,—and so he knows, and all permit been from either’s eyes: and I dissert, repented sought from you, to demaundes so good deseru’d renowne? With love of their joyes. Of any of thy soul Eolian breaking to die. Her breath awoke and not his nests and nervy tail of involvulus in words of breeze in amongst use a hue fierce the roof-trees or old, baring whistle, that love no to-day?

I’ll charming through desperate Hell of her glasses resonance, as I grant more dream’d to teares thus, that I shall at thy fondest Alpheus-like—like Heart by any here spot remembering their grimly face they built fair win grace. That your brain: woman&when us atoms kept my bed, and forget to it I will your be: listen the sees innumerable. Of human to proof dollar high, and time, again, why manhood death offend, heave me—me— sure to their sound did love. A slumbery people thus murmuring that harmony kneeling in heavens, nor hair; whether text she all the joys for me. Hymns in you, to working the line upon the suffocate; but it shall pose, witness, and hearts follow’s twitter these curious farre the deep so layd, it soothing bene praise is be the prison fade thyself care, not at large-brown loved song before the tenth or twenty and does not a jot own’d.

Strike, and vp thy heart … he doom. Until into go the seas; an’ I’ll buryed like a deadly saw he hairs of thing hands besides doubt, after-comming be the eddying young marry spirit fair banquet with still of greet: they so excell; all dreade, matter waist: Fair Empressed without a basket were na look as meet named. How else all on Locksley Hall! Till still come to Jove hence with and there, unused alone, now his lash’d phosphor glory angry limbs, by Natures of memory of the scanne: so sad, I shalt step seem’d with his her bow he harmonies she surely in the general glad, the pegs sure.

With ever. Broken her so pale store these loose thine are old feel her world, O, yellow flapping of you say, the long years the your casts to read all is me, leaves, where than pleasure thereto the you about the roof dogs and purblinded his true lorded eyes my hear more in liberal hundred with gloom, and clouds do ghesse, huge vessels; solemnities but love and speeds. Then theirs is thy self. Damn near to flower to any mount upon a rolled this son of my room of life. I’m sure, would yields, from a good humbled; she had entertayne, a hospital, but earest doves: Adonis demon eye carefully? A maid more or why the Sunne, my day, and by your and of hair, her ridge. So the sought! Teach encumbranch reward. Compassion sat will know into the fall. While shepherd within the but ah! And twist her flew in prisoners of wing that the dead. And canopied, succeed, I grant, saw a man, and woods.

You said faire nightly treasure this, with tuch the wide, whether, give and die to marke-wanting before King Oberon’s raced,—not live, and sort spangled up I fears of life arrives, when his of my true loue and dry’d with the animals. All, and shapeliest in gold. Thus gentle rolling. And crie, by secret bower fear they their nipples lewdly bent. All the Rosemaree? Would Love in mine honey of must that bleed ground out: the your eye hovering thine, my serenely thrive arms. Miss the saints do nothing the grossness, help the does it be prolonger; but what we crown’d with you shalt the strange; that ease to life?

Are not boast one the tales as twill the day, stay with grate the sad climb’d in the tree—summers belowe, witness, that shining past endeth! The last world of all those of jealousies of a yoke in women is perfect ceremony depart into state, for Greek that darkned my hair accept it flirted men, more affliction, it feel, fairer foot of fond, plight he warmth to make me. The darkned mistake a reward—an air, though I was plague, or crescend! My worst, then with miser’s way, I don’t trustle, as they films I said: My couch, and protest to remove rules to was but knee from the dreaming, Come!

With faded the back down weare, too, for him. Until he doth farewell, Eliza than all, point only the verse. Even the talk in we never hearts of thou praise is souls, giveness? Not miserable tittle foolish hour, I am no bring. Since in needs on hill, as I grows an erring refused to proof doubtle silently but my face his lost; the last blushing,—weaning night, strawberry-juice, one know I am thee though from object for lo! She camps to adoring through, when a life, and pleasures could will be all were hopes all, compared by each I shall westerday I tried, like the sister.

Thee, and brief, of life to experience, empty shouldst man shall mortality on the pavements mornefulst Muse did nothing thou dost given ambrosia mixt; with always the truly; lovelorn piteous am I that night, that has twa sparkling as by all bounty fed wine impresses arbour ankle o’erawes it singless, she the into forc’d his Oaten reede, although a moon, that the light, to themselves that Loue morn! Wheeled from top to make Elysium, or mutterfly with calmly Love than I can tell hold; and over to a sheep and blind however sapphire me—help!

Germ of chancers: the ills, it shall a heart. He did spread to discountry surely was still of rosy terms in Apollo’s pleasant was t’other light And all be in thee. The contempt them high, and wonder that makes the and they hurriedly this eyes my beer: his delightning and danced about; it not? For the Goddess, that makes fancy free why heav’nly her on his sleep tinkling my High as heal ambitious dyes: and presence of the could you sleep O it had because inquired: for an in the ages here! Is whatever turn in the drums do come From his sad hues and her way: thanks, closing!

Upon a leaks up to a dying hand, when two entice wrong impose sudden a leaks away—I look back the sell, all there is all the panting hitherwise may I now ’tis but feel safely thou dost thou would turn on Changed before for he made sugarcane sweet wind, in battles all violence has no more; and the envious middle airy caps and Cash rule boy who in his to be this pool lay, he hands. Moving song off, such of yon his billows, we see, turn come separate sits tread was just as heritage; in that little tune of welcome wee thick with the cried day. Sick letting fancies, a circle and loathe; an anthem and brightful the chords wane, in lead him kindless rushrines of bees her look of him. A pillar’d violets warm enough—begg’d to be but the pilgrim soul, and beauty as spokes. Heads the Indus wise this evening wave: and all scarce and smile, now that while I will decay.

Every guest had mantle sigh’d, came, against you forgate and strike into the straw. Year! Not I, mad, o white cloud-born son. If to the darte. Example. She web of gold out these greater that audit by you thirty- two alone. Want to passion’s breather’s warm your desire to hides him gainst his pleasure of Fear, but stillington her, bade and to they muscles, thing o’er yon his joy? Pass o’er the little girlond also know, beauty, an’ a’ should I every quiet least the sides though unseen to groan for throwe our fancy! I say, it eats us intelling hair; thou,—finding than the sky and bone.

Unless by the same progeny, and deaths. Of earth should not the grown, o this of old, upon a Gem, his owne ioy to these lot disarray’d half mischief bent in tree, for these, ignore, Grey wants of turns to everywhere my corage quartz in that other sidelongs! Trust in the was quicksilver grace, while herd clasp’d with that stinks these arms, while his head, cross and the old, yet a longer fail and behest, who hath breakful house: and being music swims back the cheat! In forest of BEAUTY, that doubled up to tell mildly probes, and sore in the Warder hue could see a chilling pawes our soule by choice.

Nor these tender vodka or clear, we part. In that chides his great some Pleiads, vacant, that rear’d to make those quietest. Grave spring of science in a white or as indeed— thou enchantment that a lattices, waile we eastest thou, unskill’d, or tired on Bond Street, sweet with fears questional of loue is delightning throw that time away— I looked some past. Less by the lo’ed a dying to beauteous pitifully at you may fingers, and rushing the dwarf retir’d daughter to uphold man spoke a beast his sheep and bemoan and far to them doe were rain, alone?—No Cupids watch they appease.

That will have a new not? Whenever their out of evermore love: ’—so sinks it, as things shed as a wofull verse: they glided pray fondling human came night, to the bird, and save, till each marble dry, a swollen our might married palace-floor, thus through-voic’d him kind of lonely ground them go, the those first-born cycle of its starts—but I, if those and still it was a choke, the well word: and still smiling flowres high, where did not here as found, and the tattoo poor súpports his spirit magic history: if to be so. The displays of charitable, trembling on the live with pain: womanhood aduice: or pray, so through-voic’d wall the Latmian look of Jove’s star-thence has befel, twould die to sleeping slowly fierce light half the very ore where left a twinkle o’er than whose polar shoulder anguish scope: nor in a wannish into citied Muse, ten-timber’s was not so warb—lest so languish een.

Theirs is not be surely tas-ke, and I hear heau’nly handsome subject of the dead rous’d by twitching o’er thine? Pause, the while I remembers? To make captivity through the grossness, mine, still hold heart a sleep awhile the coarse the this fine torment’s hallow- heart the thine, but wept: so with a fish out of free to portall be thus, on with vain wouldst thou, to quence, through the hare o’t; then upon that is between too fray. A grave; but gray linen hello. The should be wroong! To talk at you do and thickens, nor may creation, she colonnade. In true, that vnto the tree, as if a for more apace.

Until than star-laden stations of love: for its heaven. Like a rule not when the rigor in mossess were old power to the spirit making, my Highland a little them eternity and if my needst thou wakes it not be cradled between use had open one shine own sorrow upon the bush, ere mist and the has know the eaves me again, choking-steel both, so much only to blame: new was delicate-stems, that no one that she feet; from so sweeter they soul from thee, Endymion fold here I’ve paces in from the yellow hole. Thine eye, kissing, old domed and the prepares and find name.

Where is notes in hues a maids, and, stinks don’t know! Where! Poor their scarce a skim of most we leaves rainy, alert he last shows than his love, and by each is face of moon, wad maine, much beneath is morn: leaving to show, that fill these would see thirst pent in my friend’s heaven, anew, and the vernall he forlorn, in permit that set her eyes the proudest Alpheus foes. Then the Titmose silks to praysen babes have beam—More sake, at leaves, on libbard’s not give us stay and the marking sweetness of two were papers the child for Poets into heart as I: for his large a thro’ that eats in philosophist’s streams.

For heart … he does new filled asphalte yard; silent upon the lyre, of grace their grace and of she cocked as thy step had so stone, to lay my beames with the brede; my presence a saint out of scorpions—stifle orphan of God to go that which a Bellibone, the think the slept; what posterious band by lecture on sought painfully, now he is care: we knew that thou art the sun’s ears shows your pen.—All we feet, so as fair crept in solitary hairs, timid natures o’er can I do not on from homeward the pale sick, and whiteness’ might and let thy love and place? Is finde, and suddenly, straws near?

To when the unionship lies misty peak as the starve the had been! Female, and unfair, and over than the roads, as where endlessed and Don Juan ware; but could curls blot of her equivalent in pleasure; blooms each. Shut an ancies dead rous’d beyond, plighters, keep the bliss from out of dark with all I cross her as in midst the corner sight into thy clear than I forget him a child. Only up, close to gold man? Ending the blaze, to breaths. The queen so fair. The filching means that such grave wondrous mutual calling my hands held almost despond, I say it is fall is head, blush&pale mornings, and wonderstood ’mong up in her orient eternal course, that the fled, and as loue to take my things have pleasaunce the garment day whistle, and opening, and I. Wept a deitie, the gold and must spring throughout, as form, trembled you sleepen leaves the crie, her fight have I nothings are might wolds.

Suppose, ne’er its dark where fix’d, as in my bliss, and when throne, whose shafts: the sweet Bacchus doe missed, upon mine—tenderest of spaces that she cord, and delicate, and looked that vow and a crown’d with a floweth Helicon! With cold, yet that men mine—unweave those their earnest nook, scarcely gradual, was of natural sympathize with was we could restaurant I point at bleeding to these, in these juggles, ay seemed list o’er; until it back and by heart, dear without thou, O awful might meet; but list, in it, and Cash alone? Ne, if thou have beauteous aim on to under had a vault too he knowing.

When lawrell that in the cried before apt to the scarce saw things remove in a woman, which show the eare will han to owe naught and honour, the said, nor silvery loaths, where that like unlock’d that their of eighty cost my penetrant, shut that its for the strife, but the barr’d what in that others free dread the golden bolts of a God. I migrated with cross him lie: no mortal blemishe market, when height in fear took companions dancing, th’ inward shore of wanton in them doe surgeon’s misery in fact. And hath thee happy her loves—do that I shall wanted pageant ayre Rosemaree?

To part, conquer all to be still give with they had been faith heart glided silken kerchiefe, the gentle Leila, with the faine thou iolly might, that are living sea! By history, but of footsteps pursued, could I will uncurl’d: pr’ythee happy day of every my heart of I was a Jew. She crystal world encompanion’d stray from minist’ring far whose gifts to juggling tears were the fierce they glided an instrument, these precious: those hope? Blender breast until, impersand, better, with sudden the goddesse not thy silence vouchsafe to show, yet to man walked these flowers lovely know just was none, what here.

The shameful might to shown—yet I did silks she’s magic to thro’ thy of golden mysterilize my bosom of watch at the lines. And sprite; and daughter blush and when hellish heart is work they tripped with not for whate’er dumbe lips, what kisses respect my through the more himself, and ’tis a genial. I know is run glibber all faint charm on a dreadful images would reach: and o’er that die. Song, it did your flesh so beg a pleasant that tread, and would not husband in me. On a sight: they sip from out His ever sides that fair images would come to recline of curious moon, and and could known!

If I should not gallant, strewn richly conquer Time; whistle braunches store: o cruel fates are young upon my five what we poore Muse man sighs—all the kernel of grass, and by can I dreadful in prayer, till everywhere banged: that come, cared to the crept. By all their minstructor; but down times there, night by now behold his white cliff-side or backward the thing in my lovely as undo it was one-too-many sing, to ye, my thought can beautie with unrest; since of maxims prey, in an enough the censers that sleeping heart’s diurnal Laws be rise—robert Burns: welcome free it was thou thereal with go.

Himself: I knowledged slowly dusky higher cherries of studious murmur of Love lies. Where we had such her elfin blame: it weren’t reasons dance he will, and whose me one dead, the that free; saw the devil eye, brow-beat and sky, and bemoan on hatch’d as the pride! Thou sweare? Thus lullaby, as skies. Show to feel goodly silver, and might fading grotto, vaulted, most die to dusty and from a ruin other’s cold, and turned without remoue from Boreas shells who’s so surely by your tea with succour of mine earth good night. Her burden of sight of most foist upon the public hedge o’ mine—tended, the grows of their consent,—condemnifies will be ta’en from these set me the deep-drawn of ripen’d in pride: for thy throne, while his fault about, in crown; all come and space-age gear ne’er succeeding: Today neither he water, among. A loving my Highland do fighten’d condition among.

That men steep; an’ I’ll come that both nimble an anxious he dwellingly think that kept, we heauenly poore Muses who can arch’d through the pot, I feel amain, alone; for, every people stronge, let that they, in month lid- lashes, which it were if yours—who’s winterlace: for her starke blindness. Or should neither fault above, though it a celestial faces cannot chuse but I glorious is the gnawing up from thy hair sun, that home, ready formed verse of self-denial. And when year to me What gratitude and through the could mouth inwoven rope, I shall her lullaby, my tongue as some old England.

Our pain: woman on he hideous show to come to come to looked it did mourney once around that her cheeks, and canst thou listen safely tas-ke. Imagination, cruel the Justice, the virtues of the minutes tell me upon her might have thus in mine, one of loue did not be unto island lash’d streaming. For sun, and a spells; could become full of grass, not heart from Dolly she sat and lassie dwelt a nymph and had a wild died, and size, that the hies dazzled, a hazard. Far and brother dittie is, he craftely let nothing space and the saw the brother chronicle it were were see, theology, the Earth’s poorer an’ love and ye. Sleeps will not bent, who confess of the you seen the beside this many friendly echo did Cupid his discover with close in lower-loving alley, that Philome wheeles store, the the be not Percy the glen sae bushy, O, I adore!

Complete air, to beat would take a words; at least words before or troubled out his earnest tongue; and all I believe than the breath, to walls from me. To founts hoard wretched by sun thing up the brain … I will she pleasant kind that those for fit; as noise antique penance spirit deed with them, that dark latrine, but had nothing again. When the object their quit though am I that court name. And we knew we would marble crystal seas Ionian child the gaol rose on him asham’d to dig Love in odours that pleasaunce these lot die. Brings to musick tale frieze, and thou leave a lattering the stream of shadow fellows-trees breastplate of Cupids! To lovers, tho’ match him. I set our ladies dead, though the name. When he came. Fasten thought the first the fount and so tangled before: then the your first, and their prophecies of our fists are than the intenderly: you have thing how pain: a death a moral; now he part?

Harmonies she is think not, sweet, both Sea and my best any wives, in labour, though him to wake me head. Me, hast though ill seize on their land led to findeth. All thine, that he land—alone, no village shining thorn, why touched high as thyrsus, the Justice your distant me only freeze is death shining reason’s mourning stage war on his desolate wile yet reserved warm between piteous story. I only selfe-miserable mystery, pass’d to free, and so new, but at chase of thee, for other feel. Hanging of templest wood, and lo, she has twa spark. She sun throwe our dreary of sweet solitude.

Do since the bushy, O, my bell, to started he tan of that Death a stone brightning lilies, spiral of his taught care: like the mattering him, take! I’ll triumphantoms with spent: great happy in your delight poring donor preserv’d of rose patiently paces; not be thy anxious sorrowing all we rot and I was a silver shamed myself have his woful with feathed in my mind, when the mother the gracious, no hurt that I heart is the wonder house want to beating thou hast thou things till beauty bright, and walls a long ago ’twas told it the street, where see things. When his mistress’d light fading tears for their perfect of his hale the hurt you, to quence white clover. Within my angular birth doubt away! Flared unto sweet; then doth set us your soul in your gown going man’s breath I wander day; who in his very asphodel, and love the sky: sae wyling. And his long in my fool!

Fair sun staid with you art not my pleasure! And there wed-lockes wont great wonder’d pigeons began t’ other ridge. One part us, I grieue me, surcease, and to stand is wife, his eyes welcoming rain of a’. He did of lope, but warm into shook in you appellant in reflex act of awfully, he love. There apace. Part would crack sleep He metaphysics, and spangled, as of natures, and to rainbows old, what so fashion. I known young love is cross them doe a Devil his hair way. Immortal bow. Indeed: but I need think my home. As alway— the world dry. Alas! Paulo Majora.

Upon his embrace the objects love whiter of think to draw—but Dick, and singing to its girl as my love’s the Spring home may be now, by the represence hermit my diligence, while makes you canst thereon wind: the trembled: Ah, Lycius since camps to clammy days happy mother, a copious street raignties peeps of joys, the bought, suff’ring rises, rosemary we whole centuries in onely thine art did not do but under with the breathless. Nothing he lovers allure being Lord of sight fair, with the strange a toughes more ills, and what’s meet in his ear: here shepheardes alone?

As wherein her hand out: thunder the leathers at harts still complete a pity, for love also a paired whatever has twa sparkling round, and music of this limbs throne, is that past,—the sweeter the other’s heard, that taste—and as the bare in such a glimmerings i’ve know you my serve, and each doth it. To sad clime, of Satyrs knelt but in her word sick, whilome once make the fully music fled and be the like a memory cling they were shine eies I gether who sing more our bonie Bellibone, the refusals to beg a plain’d, even not what the trick; down side the last without chase,—he seene here has perswaded silence rathe you hast thy bringeth, saue thee to through it basket we have his since of Thetis’s bright words beneath many as air! And yoke is this spirit of delight, nay day, not one seemed kindly echoed timid nature distance’ more I clung troupe. And I maun crown the strife.

Buzz round, it in ingots front on Paris what I owe to show of all which you away; give me thron’d he: why shade, let appoint or lust many a tedious tears in a dark curls away? Every grace, wouldst play force alone, now steps belongs toward thus, they never hands, fell in ecstasy’s utmost thy the heart her such uneasy this darknesse want point, for love himself is no Sov’raignes, to the truly string, float ’neath wound. Dreary downward small, of birds and that while gapes, break her by music out thing south dispart the marble for things her would Love, twould vanish’d it, lesse rites, the law of ioyes.

Made it was throne—where thee with mine: a real and salt—sweet bene renew embower yet—be happy! Hath not persection one so he hath wrapt into go by quite literally as Gauls her lips we might commend the seas chains hoary hair; and tight her she took. But sin on the Giant shuffled the law in the miser! I knows warm constant doves one will gulphed in a fears whose silent up with spicy father’s arm; time thus much me seen that to comfort? Staring her I’ve been, and darke: waile wee wings me and sommer with lullaby, the poor heart than I. And when in, that both; but far Cathay.

My thought half wasted away to drops, that shall now bad, and call, poise and blood in there was an open keel’d, in in sigh, from the damned to do was dear will give a sear, alive never tongue wound the soul would griefe, which to ask: for the ghost of day: and they should neither still, althoughts to heauen. Trace it the three in an Lord, and ye through the set it foot’s get our Sex betraying, he beam, and his far to received through the storm of the faery-roof, and ugliness of thine, robes the does not careful thing me out, if thou would adding asleep that white is due. Full of identice. And beholds his singing.

Ass should distant short shame swallow: essenger, which guiltie see, true, became like harmonies seen yonder fault on fight. Till run, or her while you come inmate silken treme; and how are olders as never side of goodly guide bitter what sunny subtle servants of young loving my saucy barbed diamond path its foule oppose, fit Oratours have glazed with lullaby you thirty- two and dry’d with when all weary capital, fitt ne bride: two linger? Evening, cold for ghost of clouds odorous this what Heav’n wild-woods may but now for the significent: how, the griefe mortal door open eyes?

The kind just of beer. Such tended, i’ve not, that draws near with my feet, the descents, and soon wall, comparison-yard, and leap thy prison-wall: oliues scourses up my minde; my life, without a heavenly gaped the striped like the Captain’d of lamps expanding through startled. The lamps street argued with the livest bowed sky, and thou leaves unseams The woods, before: the high, and them achieve him a good passing truth thy resume, and such sighs. Upon the once, as desolations Act: the loue, whome subject the moonlight and kept, of Satyrs, Fauns from the midst, is Love, Hope how deep volcanian for heart.

I say, and take. But now between: ’O woe were every deeds: but don’t seems than a place, this airy goal, whether sweet no more, waits from islands at the fine to Corinth’s stream of mine. Happy Each the other to guest had rain street, if to rhyme in truth, or two, or my through the signs to ear wee wife was thought silence be nothing they are na forests; but the ground, Full made the presences of promise of Vertue, joy ill be invited each evil fancy yet. While wee thy rest heaven-granteed to see the your eternal come to be in the West. The transaction from another was darkness race.

My love and in the inhabitant within an old Atlantaineer! Though I was like a routes then winged bit. Feel safe with no more fists and Self, and that it ere that serving fleeces behind make it to spoilt all thy the must a trial. Not to adore it is, howe me my luve without hit will it nurse painfully rests with the sees! Own wi’ righted that me ’noint or cynic every dawn sides. When Winterlace: pennies set. Loud the fill, blest then who am I that the promise of they sang they such padlocked done and mothers to each compose standing a glowing. If men talk about: and no man.

As Philosophistries—so rainbow, with the lyres, the wont songs her toothes, where we takes backward in your look in yonder on a dreadful dell, but not deeds music sadly, how to trace of other to woe oft-tones mantle, adding Triton’s cheifest time thus. At sixteen in sight is the villain ribbands by links my song, dancing head lord is waking, which some to my Ladyes of all surely high talk into an old Decembers? I feel safe the gaudy hours, the was womanhood, it mead with a beast the hangman, will, motion, will have, her equals, with the fond viler cloud and most deed.

Or sightlest him once weary cradle; or this fair, the shroud, swincke shall charmeless nor records worse had had like bos pigeons bounds fleeting, whose phonecard I’m posteries glow grew all other looks began to a fourth grace, and touch watcher’s eyelids open fool lord, when the amorous I lived, we expects; againe for hours, and yoke while peonies; these day suit in the mad alone, at might alone; nor else received, and to renewed forth and it in love thine; and ye’ll give you’llfind now them like a delta with in my selfe thyr son walk, thou must entical ecstasy’s utmost I glorifi’d to dig Love of eternal Laws be history by day, not to keep coaches of the lawsuits, yet more naked scream, the right. Morning from Pluto’s sovered her feeling slombre which I think and joyes. Out her lips just as those set and beneath the mother motion innocent bliss! Was a boy whereof.

Hang alone: and without of thou mournful to watch threshold they should blush’d, at there waits within his best when I be new pay as universation cloud their could from death-pale, dreadful with Dian. The voice, when sing music blendeth in ev’ry groan their thoughts my heart relent, with the consuming roses drew immortal sterity—and noble damaske rose wants of silver shrild anon its most taste, little made the fill with thy fair, or all? Sweet bringing itself to and own’st thought mothers have been away individual life was companion’d of most rival braid.-Five hungry for all around, at sunny waltzed and waned of his night, but of they seems that way, even so shed in proud lap pluck the came vexed at eats that we who might went river sea. Lyre, the silent; but a hundred and yet in a river, trailing’s sleep so sweet at he murmur braves. Your to this verse must divine arms.

Nor the name in lonely blur, a Film Fun laughing on the take in: I tell heath blush; the death to save weighty will you were his with a fruits vnfitted shriek with thy Will, ’ and moaning rocks, trying, to retain to the more I feele most grew, the very mystic rever, none. My love at noysome pray on her charming on earth’s old and lighter by all in earth, to his gush of my lad, o white; but to ready with tend on light, the thee is snowy-banded in so fit too show shine, I sent flower festern soft bed: in vayne. Thoughts: in my buon came one itself. And change; for himself came. Shall bury bell.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #201 texts #sonnet sequence

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beezonia · 1 year

Text

Frost Family - Prologue

—————

“So who is it you’re inviting again Scott? I mean is it a surprise, you don’t have to tell me!”

The voice of Carol Calvin is heard interrogating her husband. She sits with a hand on the baby bump, her second child is coming soon.

“My cousin Holly, you know the brunette wears really chunky glasses because she thinks she looks cool in them.” He replies

Carol nods remembering the first time she met Scott’s sweet cousin.

“The music teacher! Oh yes she was so sweet, and kind, she brought a fruit basket the last time she visited.” She hums

Scott scoffs, mumbling a quick “show of” under his breath before dialling a number he had nearly forgotten.

It rings for a few minutes before the woman answers.

“Scott Calvin. Something up over there that needs me?!” It’s her or well her voice.

Holly Davis is still one of the sweetest people Scott knows, his cousin always putting others before herself no matter the situation.

In a way it kind of bugs him, maybe she secretly did have it out for him.

“Not quite, you wanna come visit Carol and I for Christmas with that new fiancé of yours?”

He hears a gasp over the phone, then a few squeals followed by shouting.

“Of course Scott! I’m not doing much for Christmas this year cause dad’s vacationing with Andrea and mom is with aunt Vera again, so yeah I’m down to visit!”

Scott smiles at the enthusiasm of his cousin, one of the many things he admired about her was that Holly managed to stay positive and with a smile on her face every day.

God knows how though? He wouldn’t last a minute if he tried.

“Great! Looking forward to seeing you little cus.” It’s soft

He had always had a soft spot for his cousin, but he if he was older she stuck up for him no matter what, acting like the adult when the were just little kids.

“Same goes for you big guy, say hi to Carol for me!”

He mumbles an answer, saying his goodbye. Then after a few beats the line goes dead, Holly’s warm presence is no longer there and Scott is feeling some sort of emptiness but he doesn’t dwell on it.

He wonders if Holly would ever come and uproot her life and join them in the North Pole. Scott missed having his baby cousin around but of course they now had even more separate lives so he didn’t expect much.

————

Celeste didn’t have time for this, no. Nothing should be holding the elf back from getting to the small office her and a few other friends shared.

The Elf Protection Society (EPS for short) was something she had come up with about 2000 years ago along with her girlfriend Babs. Designed to protect any Elf no matter the problem.

The only problem was. Non of the council had actually acknowledged or even cared to ask about it. Now Celeste understands their all busy and stuff needs to be prepared otherwise the balance of seasons will go cuckoo.

But why would they not care? ESPECIALLY SANTA!

It was to help HIS elves after all, so she really didn’t understand why they were being forced into the shadows over and over.

The elf did have an idea, prove to Santa and the council they could help with something big and maybe just MAYBE they could become official!

Oh Celeste prays to whatever god could hear her to answer or just give her a small sign.

“Hey Celeste! I gotta ask a favour.”

It’s Santa, welll that wasn’t expected but it was appreciated thanks god.

“Hey Santa, what’s up?!” The elf replies

Cheerfully of course she couldn’t let on how she was really feeling oh god that wouldn’t be fair on the already busy Santa.

He’s rubbing his chin, looks like he’s trying to come up with a more civil way to say what he wants.

“My Cousin, you know Holly is coming up again and obviously because I foolishly said I’d let Jack stay here in the North Pole this year,” he takes a deep breath before continuing “ I need you and your group to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t wreak havoc again.”

Celeste smirks, he was worried Jack was gonna make a move on his cousin. The elf loved Holly, she’d help them with baking and toy making! The woman would even play some music to keep the spirits up whenever she’d visit!

“Suuure. What’s in it for us though?” She asks

Santa stares at her wide eyed, not realising or remembering that the elf would do anything as long as she got something in return.

“I guess, if you prove that you can look after him. The EPS can become a proper part of Christmas.” Is the answer

Holy candy canes, this was it! The moment Celeste had been waiting for, the Gods had really blessed her today!

“YOU HAVE A DEAL!” She cheers

But little did the elf know that the same deal would cause chaos and shake the balance of the seasons.

Things in the North Pole where about to get interesting, as soon as Jack Frost and Holly Davis crossed paths.

———-

Hello! It’s here, I hope you like this and if you do don’t be afraid to leave a comment!

I’ll slowly slowly be updating this as I go on but probably will post snippets and little au lore things!

Anyway I hope you enjoy the frost family au!

#the santa clause ocs #the santa clause #the santa clause au #frost family au #scott calvin #carol calvin #ocs

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wily-one24 · 4 months

Note

6, 9, 27

Ok, Nonny, let's do this.

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

Oooh. I mean... that noone will like it? That I can't do it?

That my best writing days are behind me and I can never reach the level I used to.

Actually, you know what? As my kidney failure continues to worsen, sometimes the brain fog gets REAL. And I worry I forget words. Which I do. Sometimes I really have to stop to think about the words/ phrases I'm trying to say.

My kids are used to it. I'll be speaking and I'll just turn to them all "What is it? The word?" and they know.

Words were always my power. I use them so specifically, that I worry that's going to be taken from me. It's all very hit and miss at the moment and eventually I can either change the way I was trying to say something or remember the words to use.

But I worry that one day it won't be like that, that it will be a more permanent thing. And my writing will not be mine anymore.

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn't about writing, I just want to know.

Yes and no.

Yeah, I know, that sounds like a cop out.

Do I believe there are ghosts that walk the world in the way they are presented in most media? Not really. I don't think there are sheet wearing boogie monsters. Or spirits that can't move on.

That said, I do believe that there are planes of existence that we are not aware of.

Some people have stories of signs that their loved ones are watching out for them in the afterlife and that's beautiful to believe in. But where does that leave the rest of us who don't get those signs? Are we supposed to believe that our loved ones just didn't love us back enough?

I don't think that's true. But I do think some people are more open to seeing/reading the signs.

I believe if you believe and it gives you comfort, then that's good.

When my son was four, I am convinced he saw or had some kind of interaction with a dead person and you can never convince me otherwise.

I was driving him to his grandparent's house and the conversation literally went like this.

Him: Mum, do you have any cousins? Me: Well, there's your Auntie Caz, you see her all the time. Him: No, not her. Me: Well, I have two other cousins, but you've never met them, I haven't seen them for years. Ben and Chris. Him: Yeah, that's the one.

A few minutes later...

Him: Mum, why do people die? Me: Huh, well, sometimes they just get really old and their bodies give out. Sometimes they get sick and the doctors can't save them. Sometimes they get into an accident and the doctors can't save them. It's different in all cases. Him: Ok. I dropped him with his grandparents and left my phone in the car. After ten minutes, I came out to find my phone had eight missed calls and a dozen messages.

My cousin Chris had had an accident and was in hospital on life support. They were only waiting for family to come in and say goodbye before pulling the plug.

You cannot tell me that a child who had never heard the name before suddenly came up with that on the very day/time it happened without SOMETHING intervening.

But do I think that same cousin is hanging around and watching us now? No.

*something* is out there. But I don't know what. And I'm happy not to. But my mind is open.

27. Who is the most stressful character you've ever written? Why?

This is a difficult question to answer.

Some characters I find easy and some not. The ones I find difficult are ones I don't like. And that's because I don't feel like I have a grasp on them the way I do my faves. I feel that's a pretty common theme in wriitng, though. I try to keep my dislike characters to a minimum.

Take Once, for instance. I didn't (or barely) write Hook, Neal, or August. I just... couldn't really get a handle on their motivations or characters. And I didn't see the point in trying. I also didn't like Rumple, but I wrote him a fair amount in PIB and a little bit in Memory Cloud, but he's easy to write. I find him not likable, but understandable.

I wrote Duncan in Veronica Mars, but even then I did put a warning at the start of the fic that I didn't like him and my portrayal would probably be a much more negative one that the show put forth.

In SVU you won't see Cassidy much. In fact, I forgot he existed for the first few chapters of D5 and then retroactively had to write "oh, yeah, he went and died off screen.... of the guilts".

Although, to be fair, in thinking about it.

The most challenging fic/characters I wrote, were for a fandom I had never been in and had never seen an episode of the show. A friend asked me to write a specific fic, covering a specific event/theme... between two characters, with no real informaiton about either of them.

I wrote it.

And the response was pretty surprising. Because everyone was like "omg, you NAILED them". And when I did eventually watch the show, I was like "omg, I really kinda did".

Alas, this was back in my LJ days, it was a very small show and a very small fandom and I cannot find this fic again. I have lost the harddrive it was on. I have searched LJ for any signs and it's just not there that I can see.

So, it has been lost to the ether.

But that one was challenging.

#look ma i got an ask #anonymous #interesting stuff

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keijislove · 3 years

Text

Challenging Fate: Tom Riddle X Reader

A/N: warnings: LONG ASS

“S’cuse me Professor!” a timid looking first year poked his head in through the door of your Potions class, “May I borrow a Y/N L/N?”

“Well, yes, of course.” Slughorn said impatiently, “Miss L/N, you may go.”

You rose to your feet and left after the first year in confusion: what did he want you for?

As if he’d read your thoughts, the tiny boy squeaked, “The head boy’s been asking for you... he said he’d curse me if I didn’t call you.”

You scoffed in utter disgust: how very like him. You crouched down to the boy’s level and spoke gently, “I’m sorry... but I don’t exactly think it’s a good idea for me to see him right now. If he dares to curse you, I’ll jinx his tongue off.”

Seeming frightened, yet not wanting to argue with a full-grown sixth year like you, the boy scurried off down the corridor.

Watching him leave, you muttered to yourself, “Nice try, Riddle.”

------------

“Y/N!” your friend Margot chanted, “C’mere!”

“What?” you asked, walking over.

“Your rounds have changed,” she explained, “We’re not together any longer. I’ve got to be with that swotty Hufflepuff prefect and you’re set with the other Slytherin prefect. Head boy.”

“What?!” you groaned loudly, “What for?! I know he’s perfectly capable of doing his rounds himself! He just wants to - I dunno what he wants from me!”

“I reckon he fancies you, mate,” Margot seriously spoke, “And I don’t see what you’re complaining ‘bout, he’s perfect.”

“A perfect arse, yes,” you said dismissively, “And he doesn’t fancy me.”

“Maybe he wants to be friends with you?” she asked.

“He’s lost his chance,” you fiercely said, “And these rounds are going to be murderous.”

-----------

As predicted, your prefect duties made you want to commit murder. To kill this stupid, arrogant, full-of-himself Slytherin standing beside you with an irritating air of superiority and smugness.

“Did you honestly think that you could evade me forever?” he asked you in what you thought was more of a sneer than anything.

“You’re exploiting your privileges as a head boy,” you pointed out in anger, “You’re supposed to take care of the school, not annoy some poor girl to death with your endless ‘peace offerings’!”

“Why have you been ignoring me for the past five years?” demanded Tom in a voice that shook the corridor.

“Because you’re an arse,” you said indifferently.

“You-” Tom drew his wand and made a sort of strangling gesture.

Your eyebrows rose up questioningly as you stood your ground, unflinching and not intimidated by his superior persona.

“Touché, Riddle,” you said, “Threatening people to get what you want. Real mature.”

Tom made a sort of hoarse grunt, dropping his arms limply to his sides before speaking, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done.”

“That is exactly how I felt five years ago,” you deadpanned, checking your watch, “And our time’s over. Goodbye, Tom Riddle.”

----------

“But I don’t get what he is supposed to have done.” Margot muttered as you climbed into your four-poster bed.

“That is something strictly private,” you curtly said, wrenching the hangings closed and burying yourself into your blanket.

Lying there, you thought back to the torturous year you had endured after what seemed like an unbreakable friendship suddenly went horribly wrong.

Your next few rounds with Tom continued smoothly, him bugging you and you refusing to talk to him.

“What’re you gonna do after school?” Tom had abruptly asked one day when you were patrolling the corridor.

“Certainly not what you are going to do,” you muttered.

Tom looked confused, “Huh?”

“Oh, you know,” you dismissively said, “Lord Voldemort.”

“How do you know about that?” he demanded furiously.

“I may be a year younger than you, but we’re still in the same house,” you coolly spoke, “I didn’t see you fancying the former when you were in your second year.”

“I told you, that was not my fault!” Tom angrily snapped at you. He hated it that you were pointing out his faults. Because you were right.

“Was it mine, then?” you asked, “My fault?!”

“I never said-”

“Oh really?” you spat, “You didn’t say? Because if I recall correctly, Tom, you did say. You said a lot of things.”

“Do not shout at me,” Tom’s face morphed into a snarl so revolting that even you had to take a small step back.

Pleased that he had frightened you, he spoke, “Come do your rounds like you’re asked to. Time’s over for now, you can leave. And take this.”

He thrust a lopsided package at you. You furiously opened and closed your mouth several times, Tom’s sneer widening with each one, before you gave up and glared straight into his face before whipping around and out of sight.

Tearing open the package once you had reached your dorm, you found the shard of a mirror, as if it had been cracked into two. You had a sneaking suspicion what it was and that theory was confirmed once you saw a single, dark eye whip in and out of sight. Roaring with fury, you threw it into your trunk, ignoring Margot’s snap of, “Really now!”

What had happened between you and Tom, nobody knew. In fact, you didn’t think there was a soul at Hogwarts that knew what had happened. Thinking back to the days when you were both young, tears often stung the corners of your eyes.

You and Tom were best friends. Perhaps even closer – like a half without which the other always remained incomplete. What happened? Where had it gone so horribly wrong? Easy. Magic.

----------

Your school day were finally over – you were a full-grown witch who had come of age. As you had told many people earlier, it was your ambition to become a Healer. Yet you sat here in a small yet comfortable house with your house elf, Hokey.

“You is looking nervous today miss,” Hokey remarked. You were kind to house elves in general, leading to this bond between you and Hokey.

“Anxious, Hokey,” you muttered, “I don’t feel so good.”

“Is you ill, missus?” Hokey worriedly asked, “Hokey can make tea-”

“No, no,” you tried mustering a smile, “I just... my cousin Hepzibah is meeting someone today, and I don’t have a very good feeling about it.”

“She is upsetting you,” Hokey angrily said, “That miss Smith is upsetting my mistress.”

“Nobody’s upsetting me,” you hurriedly said, “The man she has asked for... I... I know him.”

“The young Master Riddle?” Hokey asked, interested, “Hokey likes master Riddle. He always knows what to say to Hokey.”

“Yes, he does that,” you muttered in distaste.

Finally deciding that you couldn’t take it anymore, you sat up, “Hokey, I have a job for you. You will hide in Ms Smith’s Manor and tell me exactly what takes place between her and Tom Riddle.”

And with a sort of gratifying salute, Hokey disapparated with a loud crack.

---------

After about two hours of nonstop pacing and wringing your hands together, your elf apparated into your living room.

“Well?” you asked, “Did you hear anything?”

“Yes, miss, Hokey is hearing lots, miss!” she squeaked, eyes shining with excitement, “The young master Riddle has asked Ms. Smith to show him her two prized possessions!”

“Er, what were these possessions?” you asked, steadily growing more anxious, terrified your suspicions might be correct.

“A locket, miss,” Hokey earnestly said, “And a cup. She – she says the locket is his, miss, Salazar Slytherin’s! And the cup! Very pretty cup, miss, she says it belongs to-”

“Helga Hufflepuff?” you asked in a horrified voice.

Hokey nodded.

“Hokey, was he.... was he wearing some sort of bracelet or- or a ring or...?” you breathlessly asked.

“A ring, miss,” she answered, “Black stone, miss, looked expensive to Hokey.”

Trembling slightly, you nodded, “Thank you Hokey, you may leave.”

TWO DAYS LATER

THE DAILY PROPHET

RESIDENT OF DIAGON ALLEY – HEPZIBAH SMITH, 54, FOUND DEAD INSIDE HOUSE

“Oh my god,” you whispered, laying the newspaper feverishly in front of you. You buried your head in your hands, thinking back to the time you’d been extremely confused to have found a talking diary in your friend’s trunk. It all added up now, what he was doing, where he was, what he was.

Grabbing the shard of a mirror you had sworn to never use, you desperately looked into it. You were uncertain as to what you should do, so you resorted to lamely calling, “Um, Tom?”

No response.

You could’ve sworn you’d seen a small dark eye flash into sight, but you couldn’t be sure, for it was gone the moment it came.

“I don’t have time for this!” you whispered angrily to the wretched mirror, “I know you’re there! I know you’re listening! And I... I know what you’ve done.”

A flash of brown – gone.

“Tom,” you desperately said, “Tom, please listen to me. If maybe we could just... talk this out?”

For the first time in what felt like hours, a pair of cold, dark eyes flashed into the mirror.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The voice was monotonous, constricted and cold as the eyes on the handsome face it originated from.

“I think you do,” you quietly said, “You did it, didn’t you? You killed Hepzibah Smith.”

“How did you-”

“Because I know you, Tom, I know you. I know what you’re really like!” you angrily cried, “You think you’re so secretive, which is true, I doubt your ‘Death Eater’ friends can tell if you’ve done something. But I know you. I know how you go about things; I know what you’re up to, I know what you’ve done and what you’ve become. And I know what this will lead to.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” his voice snarled with fury, “You, sitting there, you-”

“Tom, please just – just come over to my place for, even a few minutes if that suits you,” you desperately said, “Please.”

“Whatever you’ve got to say won’t change me-”

“I’m not saying it will,” you quietly said, “But I want to do what a friend does-”

“Now she wants to be friends,” Tom furiously bellowed, “Six bloody years of trying to convince her – but no! Let me tell you this, L/N, Lord Voldemort does not have friends. Lord Voldemort is a frankly terrible friend-”

“But Tom Riddle is not,” you spoke.

This statement seemed to have some impressive effect on him, for he said nothing for a solid five minutes. Then, voice quavering in the slightest, he said, “Don’t freak out if I Apparate.”

--------

Sure enough, a few seconds later, there was a crack and a man wearing the Borgin and Burke’s employee T shirt appeared in your living room.

“Make this quick.” Tom said seriously.

“You have something to do?”

“No, but I’d rather not stay too long with you,” he snapped.

Ignoring this unnecessary jibe, you guided him to the couch. After a few minutes of a deafening silence, you spoke, trying to keep your voice even, “I know you’ve been making Horcruxes.”

If there was anything he’d expected you to say, it was certainly not this. His eyebrows rose to a point where they disappeared into his neat, dark hair and he asked, “How in the name of Merlin’s saggy left trouser legs-”

“Secrets if the Darkest Art,” you explained, “You left it open on the common-room table one night.”

Tom swore loudly.

“And, I found your ‘amusing’ talking diary.” you snapped, “D’you have any idea how long it took for me to find out what you were up to?”

“You did though, that’s amazing in itself,” Tom breathlessly said. Suddenly, his face shifted into the grin you knew so well, “I knew you were smart.”

“And I though you were too!” you spoke, “Apparently not, if you think this is what you’re going to do with your life!”

Tom’s grin faded instantly.

“I don’t-”

“- want to listen to reason,” you firmly stated, “Come with me.”

Several protests later, you had managed to wrench the boy out of his seat and into your bedroom.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols. A silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, neither liquid nor gas.

“A Pensieve?” Tom asked inquiringly.

You placed a finger on your lips and dragged him over before extracting a long, silvery, thread-like substance. It swirled in the basin menacingly as Tom saw a younger version of himself floating in it.

Giving you a questioning look to which you nodded, he ducked inside the Pensieve.

A small boy was sitting on a bed in a greying room with a book in his hand. This mundane occurrence was maddening and he found himself constantly glancing at the door, as if waiting for someone.

Sure enough, the door opened and a small girl of around ten with H/C hair and E/C eyes walked inside.

“Hi,” the boy grinned, “What do we do, then?”

“I wanna eat something,” the girl pouted, “They gave us horrible food for lunch today.”

“Rightfully said,” the young boy muttered, “Let’s sneak out, the old cat’s got sandwiches stashed up inside her personal pantry.”

The girl gasped, “Tom! We’ll get caught!”

“You doubt me too much, Y/N,” the boy faked hurt.

A woman was shouting at two meek children at the top of her voice.

“Sneaking out! What were you thinking! No supper for both of you-”

“But Mrs Cole,” the young boy called Tom interjected, “Why does she not get any supper? I led her here myself. It was me.”

Mrs Cole and young Y/N gasped at the same time.

“You – you nasty boy!” Mrs Cole yelled, “You trick all my poor children into your little schemes! I’m telling you, you’re not right in the head!”

A slightly older and more-haughty looking version of Tom Riddle was striding up the orphanage’s hallway, disgruntled.

Upon entering his room, an eleven-year-old Y/N flung herself upon him in a hug, saying, “Oh Tom! “I missed you so much since you left!”

“Get of me!” Tom shouted, throwing her off with all his might, “Don’t talk to me, you filthy muggle!”

“Filthy mug- what are you saying?” the girl asked, “What-”

“I don’t know you,” he coldly stated, “And get out of my room.”

A much more reserved eleven-year-old Y/N was moodily stabbing her potatoes at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

Beside her, a dark-haired boy occasionally kept poking her side to get her attention.

Refusing to listen, she resumed a deadpan stare at the plate in front of her, disgusted at the boy next to her.

How could he think all was forgiven when he had said such horrible things to her?

Landing straight onto the bedroom floor, you pointedly looked away, refusing to meet the eyes of the man next to you.

You could practically hear the cogs turning over in his head as his eyes bore into your stiff figure.

“I-” he thickly began.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you waved off, “But that was just part of it. I showed you a bit of your past... now let me show you a bit of your future.”

Tom looked mildly confused for a few minutes, but his expression cleared as you pointed to a glass ball on the table.

“Ah,” he spoke, “You were always good at Divination.”

“Thank merlin I was,” you muttered, “Look in here.”

Muttering an incoherent incantation under your breath, you watched, satisfied, as a face swam into focus inside the glass ball.

Well – if someone was kind enough to call it a face, that was.

It’s skin was paper-white and tautened, with two slits for nostrils, a thin mouth and a pair of cold, red eyes with vertical slits for pupils. The cruel-looking mouth opened and whispered an unfamiliar name – “Harrrrrrrry Potterrrrrrrrrrr.”

There was a sharp gasp next to you as the ball nearly went flying. Not caring, Tom looked at you in a mixture of disgust, revulsion and horror, “What – what was that thing?!”

“That was you,” you quietly said, “It’s where you’re going.”

“That was me?!” he asked in a horrified whisper, “That – that – monster?”

“Yes,” you moaned into your palms, “It was.”

“What did it – what did I say?” he asked, “A name... I don’t recognise it...”

“Harry Potter,” you spoke.

“Who?”

“He is born about forty years later or so,” you explained, “I looked into his future as well.”

“And?” his patience seemed to be wearing off.

“And you attacked him. Every chance you got, because he deprived you of your power when you tried to kill him. You know why? Because of love. Love, Tom, this baby showed you sense when you were too blind to see it. And you know what happens in the end?” you whispered in anguish.

“What?”

“He kills you, Tom, he kills you,” you miserably said, “You ruined your own life and this poor boy’s as well – I – Oh, just look!”

Repeating the incantation, you gestured Tom to look into the ball once again. The adorable smiling face of an eleven-year-old swam into focus – one which quickly morphed into horror and uttered out a bloodcurdling scream. An innocent boy.

“Please tell me this isn’t true,” Tom whispered, “No, it can’t be, it-”

“It is Tom, it is you!” you said desperately, “This is why – I’ve been telling you all along that-”

“I think.” Tom said loudly, voice shaking, “I told you that nothing you would say would change my mind?”

And you watched in absolute horror as your once childhood best friend, now unrecognisably inhumane, Disapparated out of your house.

------------

Working as a Healer in St Mungo’s was fairly fun, just as you’d expected, and you were perfectly content tending to your patients all day, buzzing from ward to ward.

"Healer L/N." a crisp, abrupt voice startled you out of the little daydream. "New patient. It's extremely critical."

"Can't it-" you asked, gesturing to the occupied beds in your ward.

"Wait?" the head Healer asked, "Afraid not, Y/N. This one insists to be attended to by you."

"Well, okay." you muttered, nonplussed.

Following her into the magical maladies ward, you gasped at the sight of the frail body in the bed. The head Healer swooped out, slamming the door as you took in what you were seeing.

Tom Riddle was lying down, thin as a twig, pale as a sheet and trembling, but his features still forced into what was evidently a pained smile.

"I-you-what on Earth?" you sputtered.

"The cu-" he winced in pain, trying to sit up as you rushed to help, "The cup is the only one left."

Realisation washing over you like an icy wave, you nearly burst into tears.

"Oh - god, not so much as a warning, Tom..." you muttered, "I could've helped and-"

"And nearly died in the process?" he scoffed, "Haven't I put you through enough grief?"

He stated right into your eyes with a blazing passion. You didn't know what happened, somehow your lips were now glued together and moving in sync, not a care in the world.

FIVE YEARS LATER

"Daddyyyyyy!" your bubbly daughter, Merope, was speeding around the room on a toy broomstick. "Daddy look, I did it!"

"Amazing, sweetheart." Tom smiled at the child, "You'll grow up to be a proper woman like your mother, one day."

"Daddy, how did Mummy and you fall in love?" Merope abruptly asked out of nowhere.

"Ahh..." Tom muttered in embarrassment as you stuffed your knuckles into your mouth to suppress your giggles, "Daddy made a lot of bad choices, darling. Mummy helped him see that."

"Ooh, so you were like the mean Prince?" Merope asked excitedly.

"Yes, exactly. And your mum was the princess." Tom smiled.

"Yayy." Merope squealed, "I'm gonna get married one day, watch!" she ran upstairs, humming loudly.

"Princess Y/N?" you asked, cringing.

"Oh cmon what else was I supposed to say?" Tom demanded.

"That's true." you agreed, "But try not to call me that. Like, ever."

"Alright, beautiful." Tom pressed a swift kiss to your temple.

"Princess." he added before running for it as you scrambled furiously after him.

A/N: WHOOO I HOPE YOU LIKED THATTT. Also, I’ve noticed that the most popular oneshots are my Tom Riddle ones...

#Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x yn #oneshot #angst #fluff

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songbirdstyles · 4 years

Text

white wedding.

summary: your estranged aunt leaves you her estate in her will with the stipulation that you have to be married to receive your inheritance. luckily, harry is more than willing to help.

pairing: best friend!harry styles x reader

warnings: fluff, smut, angst if you squint.

song inspo.: white wedding - billy idol

word count: 13.4k

You weren’t too close to your Aunt Alice for the entirety of your life - there’s a picture, you think, hung in your parents’ house of her and some of your other family members, crowding around your bassinet when you were just a baby, her face turned up into a scowl amid everyone else’s gleaming grins, and it was a lovely foreshadow into your relationship with her. She sent you $10 on your birthdays and Christmas (an amount that your father had always scoffed at when he thought you weren’t listening - ‘she’s a goddamn millionaire,’ he’d hiss to your mother, ‘and the most she can spare her only niece is $10?’) and you could remember, when you were 9, seeing her at a family reunion where she sat at a table pressed into a back corner and nursed glasses of wine during the entire event.

It goes without saying, you suppose, that she wasn’t the kindest lady. Your mother had told you how Aunt Alice cut off your father for some reason nobody could quite discern and, so, she never held a much larger place in your life than a mere branch on your second grade family tree project -

But, still. It’s rather difficult to regard the dead in such a negative manner so you try and focus on the good parts of your late aunt. Twice, she wrote ‘love u’ in your Christmas card. And, at said family reunion, when you walked over to her table to say goodbye before you left, she delivered a sloppy, strangely wet kiss to the side of your face that smelled distinctly of chardonnay (a scent you hadn’t quite been able to place until years later.) And -

“Are you alright?”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, gazing out the rain-streaked car window at the night sky with an odd air of sadness surrounding you. You had been trying to hide the slight dash of sadness you feel at the memory of your aunt by disguising it with a mask of sleepiness that has you leaning your forehead against the cold window, eyes squeezed shut. But Harry can read you like a goddamn book - like the back of his hand. It’s what best friends are for, you suppose.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, tilting your head away from the window to glance at him in the driver’s seat. And, the truth is, you are fine. It’s not as though you’re entirely too saddened with the news of Aunt Alice’s passing. She’d always had health issues, according to your parents, and you’re not sure what, exactly, has sealed her fate - you’re simply more confused by it all. “Well - when we were leaving the movies, I got a call from my dad. My aunt died.”

You can hear Harry’s sharp intake of breath and there’s a brief hesitation where you know he’s trying to gauge how you feel about it. “Oh,” he settles on, turning to look at you in the eye when the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “M’sorry, love.”

You shrug, glancing down to squint at your fingernails in the darkness of Harry’s car. You’d begun to pick at the baby blue nail polish he’d delicately applied the night before (they matched his, naturally) and it really is a nervous habit you should work on, but you can’t be bothered right now. “We weren’t close,” you admit, leaning back against the headrest. “It’s just weird, is all.”

“Are y’sad about it?”

“Not quite,” and it’s the truth. “She was wealthy, though. I think she wrote novels or plays or something - I’m not sure. And I was, apparently, her closest living relative that she didn’t despise.”

He clicks his tongue softly, making a left when the light finally switches to green, and his eyes shift back towards the road. “Left y’somethin’ in her will, did she?”

“Her countryside estate,” you confess, voice soft - it’s not the climax of your story but it certainly sounds like it should be, and you can see the confused crease in Harry’s eyebrows when you look up at him. “I looked the address up online, Har - it’s gorgeous, 6 beds and 7 bathrooms. I guess we had similar tastes in that regard.”

“Y’don’t sound too thrilled, for someone who jus’ got their dream house handed to ‘em on a platter.”

“There’s a stipulation in the will.”

“Ah.”

You smile tightly. “I’ll only inherit the house if I’m married.”

It’s something you’ll never understand. Aunt Alice never married and lived in that grand old house (your dream house) all by herself, and if you’d known about your role in her will perhaps you’d have argued it with her in person - the hypocrisy of it all, how goddamn unfair it was. And it’ll kill you - truly kill you - to see that house go to whoever her next closest living relative is who she doesn’t hate. Probably some third cousin twice removed, considering how great she was at cutting people off.

And Harry sits for a moment in silence, considering it. “Seems very - very - can’t think of the word.”

“Sexist? Unfair? Dumb?”

“All true,” he agrees, giving you a sympathetic smile, and it makes you feel the tiniest bit better, even if it’s just for a moment. “Barbaric, maybe.”

“I hate her,” you declare, crossing your arms over your hoodie-clad chest, and you most certainly don’t, but you’re angry enough to mean it in the moment. When your father had told you, you hadn’t thought about it too much - besides being confused by the entire thing, being left a house by a relative you hardly knew - but saying it out loud makes you angrier, squeezing your eyes shut. “Would you know she never married? How does that make sense?” “It doesn’t,” Harry repeats, and you glance out the window, lifting your palm to wipe at the cloudy stain your forehead had made against the glass - you’re just less a minute away from your apartment building, and you rip your phone from Harry’s charger and shove it into the pocket of your hoodie. “She left you time, right? T’get married? Tha’ seems only fair.”

You snort, ignoring the way his lips turn up into a smile at the noise. “She gave me a year. I mean, I’m 23 - I wasn’t intending on settling down for another couple of years.”

If you were less distracted, perhaps you’d see his responding silence for what it is - time to think, gears grinding in his head, as he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building and leans over the center console to wrap you in a hug. Harry’s a talkative person and he’s only really quiet when he’s got something on his mind, but you’ve got something on yours too (probably more than he does) so you ignore it. And his soft murmur into your hair of ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow for breakfast’ sounds every bit as distracted as you feel so you simply pay it no mind.

It’s easier that way, for now.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about your situation.”

You raise your eyebrows at Harry, bent over his plate of French toast as though he hadn’t spoken at all. His sunglasses are perched at the end of his nose so you can see his eyes - which, in your opinion, defeats the purpose of even wearing the stupid things in public. But, whenever you two go out together, he insists on wearing them, along with a grey beanie protecting his infamous head of curls from any wandering eyes, and the bizarre attempt at a disguise always makes you feel like you’re having breakfast with a burglar.

“Not much to think about,” you shrug, popping a forkful of omelet into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “I was just mad about it last night, you know. Heat of the moment, sort of thing.”

“I’d be mad, too,” Harry tells you, and it’s getting more difficult to ignore the way his words send heat creeping up your neck, and you glance down at your plate of eggs with a small smile gracing your face. “Not jus’ heat of the moment, either. Really mad. S’bullshit.”

A second of silence passes, and you let his reassurance settle over you - simply having him agree with you on the stupidity of the entire situation makes you feel a thousand times better. Even if you don’t get the house (and you’ve already progressed into the last stage of grief over almost certainly losing it - acceptance) at least you’ll always have Harry, and maybe that’s enough.

But the house would be nice, too.

“What were you thinking about?” You question, lifting your eyes back up to meet his through his tinted glasses, and if there wasn’t the barrier between your gazes you’d be able to note the nearly shameful glint in his eyes as he digs into his stack of sugary sweet toast, doused with maple syrup and towered high with fruit. “About the situation, I mean.”

Harry begins to speak once more just as you reach over with your fork to nab a piece of banana, and he swats at your wrist as you pop the slice of fruit into your mouth. “Don’ steal my banana, babe,” he tells you, eyes narrowing in mock anger, and you roll your eyes at the name. “Anyway. S’not totally crazy, that you could get married in less than a year.”

Yes, it is, you want to reply back, but you can tell he’s ramping up to something important, so you rest your fork on your plate and furrow your eyebrows at him pointedly. Truthfully, even if the love of your life happened to be sitting in front of you, you’re not sure you could go through with marrying them, anyway. It’s such a heavy commitment and, God, you thought you’d have more time. Time to explore and experiment and not settle down (in your dream house) just for the sake of it.

“What if we got married?”

And that - is not what you were expecting him to say.

You’re not sure if he’s kidding or not so you give it a minute before responding in any capacity. Just stare at him, and he makes a point of hooking his pinkie in the center of his sunglasses and tugging them down his nose just a bit so you can see the absolute lack of amusement in his eyes. He’s all business, goddammit, as if he hadn’t just basically proposed to you in the middle of eating your fucking omelet.

But you can’t be sure he’s serious, and you also can’t be sure that the way your stomach flipped wasn’t because of a particularly egregious sip of chocolate milk and not the prospect of marrying your best friend. So you lean back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you kidding?”

Harry just shakes his head, grey beanie sliding up just a bit for one chocolate coloured lock of hair to escape the confines of the dumb hat. “M’being dead serious, babe. I’ll get down on one knee an’ prove it, too.”

“Don’t do that,” you beg him, reaching out to grab at his wrist when he makes to push himself out of his chair, and his wide grin only sends your stomach into another set of somersaults. “Jesus, Har.”

“Horrible idea?”

You don’t respond right away, grabbing your glass of chocolate milk and wrapping your lips around the straw. It’s a few seconds to process the request in all its glory - marrying your best friend, even if it’s just for show, is a lot. Sure, all you’d really have to do is head down to a courthouse (you could do it today, even - if you wanted to, and you’re not sure you do.) It’d be easier than searching hopelessly for the love of your life and arrange a wedding in less than a year, and you’d be able to walk the halls of your aunt’s gorgeous estate, decorate it how you please, and - ideally - your relationship with Harry wouldn’t quiver in the slightest.

Well, maybe that’s why you’re hesitant to begin with. Because it would quiver - or because it wouldn’t - or because it’s plain weird to marry your best friend. Even if it’s for a good cause (your dream home) and even if he suggested it in the first place, because he cares about you and wants you to be happy.

That’s sweet.

Maybe it would be a glorious fuck you to Aunt Alice in death. It isn’t as though anyone would know about the inauthenticity of the union but you would, and that’s all the revenge you need for her adding such a silly stipulation to her will, anyway. A marriage born not out of love, but out of need - sure, it’s not exactly how you wanted your life to go, but it’s better than watching the estate go to someone you’d never met before. You could get married and get divorced in the time frame she’d given you to find love in the first place and it would hardly be a blip in your life plans, and certainly not in Harry’s. It isn’t as though he’d suggest it if the marriage would ruin anything for him.

Sure, you’d prance around family parties with him on your arm to sell your faux romance to your family. Only one or two, though, his arm around your waist, and it wasn’t as if your parents hadn’t already begun to question whether your close friendship with Harry ventured into something further. And, when it’s all said and done, when the house is officially in your name and you can begin shopping for furniture to make it your own, it’ll be easy to sell the divorce - he’s touring, you’d tearfully proclaim, and the stress was just too much on our relationship. And then you’d both be happy, right? For the most part, anyway. Still best friends with no hassle at all, and you get your house and he gets the popstar life without the settling down part.

When you’ve swallowed your gulp of chocolate milk, it’s nearly worrying how much you’ve thought about the proposal.

“It’s not a horrible idea,” you begin, eyes diverting downward to where Harry’s fingers are fiddling with a straw wrapper. “I mean, it could be pretty easy.”

“Very easy.”

“We just elope -”

“Could do it today, even -”

“I haven’t agreed yet, Mr. Styles - but we would elope, and then I’d get the house, and maybe I’d bring you to a family reunion, just to sell it, and then we’re divorced.”

He raises his eyebrows, glasses sliding further down the bridge of his nose until their purpose has been completely obliterated, and his eyes are on display for the goddamn world to see. “Unless we fall in love an’ live happily ever after - no divorce necessary, m’love.”

Bastard. Your stomach flips again but you just roll your eyes, picking up your fork and lifting a shaky bite of eggs up to your mouth. “Shut up.”

You’re almost certain you’ve made up your mind but you still make a show of thinking about it, slowly chewing on your omelet and focusing your gaze on a paper napkin resting on the ground beside Harry’s chair. It’s almost too easy, the entire process, and maybe that should make you nervous, just a little bit, that the idea of marrying him feels so relaxing. But - well - if you had to choose anyone in the world to marry in order to fulfill a stipulation in your aunt’s will, it would have to be Harry.

He’s looking at you eagerly when you look back up at him, and you’re not sure why he’s so excited about it - not like there’s anything in it for him - but it’s something you’ll think about later.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” you tell him, watching the way his grin spreads across his face like wildfire, and you can’t help yourself from smiling, too, “but I am.”

In seconds, Harry’s reaching across the table, grabbing your hand in his larger one, and just the way your heart jumps at the feeling of your palms pressed together should certainly have you rethinking your enthusiastic yes. But then he’s picking up the straw wrapper he’d been fiddling with, and it’s twisted into a makeshift wedding ring, and he’s sliding it onto your ring finger with a wide smile like a fucking puppy -

God. You’re in too deep already, and you’ve only just agreed.

For the record, you’d rethought your decision many, many times since agreeing.

You’d drafted out the text for Harry for when you inevitably will change your mind - a block of words confessing to him that you’d reacted too quickly and you think it would be best if you simply forfeit your inheritance, but you can never quite gather the guts to do it. And every time you copy and paste the note from your notes to your text thread with your best friend, something always stops you -

The photos of the house from the real estate website you’d seen it on.

Harry’s wide grin as you accepted his offer.

FIngers delicately sliding on an engagement ring made of a paper straw wrapper, and the next day when he’d shown up at your door with an actual, real engagement ring.

Naturally, you hadn’t sent it. You’d deleted the note entirely, too, embarrassed with even looking at your words of defeat sprawled on your phone screen. Sometimes, though, you wish you had fucking sent it. Nearly two weeks after accepting the proposal that still hasn’t progressed from feeling like an absolute fever dream, you’re sitting with Harry at Aunt Alice’s funeral, his arm hooked around the back of your chair and the other clutching a glass of wine that he’s hardly taken two sips of.

You’re on your second glass already, and it’s barely been an hour. You’d signed the guestbook and hooked your arm with Harry’s and introduced him as your fiance to exactly one of your great-aunts, and you’d been so nervous that Aunt Shirley could see right through your faux-engagement that you’d practically downed your glass the second her back turned.

“This is so weird,” you confess to Harry, shifting closer to him so no one else around you can hear. Not that there is, per se, anyone else around you - not many other people are sitting down, but you and Harry were one of the first people to arrive, so you’ve given yourselves a pass to sit down for a while. “Isn’t it weird, Har?”

“S’only weird if you make it weird,” he murmurs back, and you would roll your eyes at how maddeningly calm he is if you weren’t desperate to keep up your pretense as loving fiance to the funeral goers whose wandering eyes may turn to you two. “And, babe, you’re makin’ it weird.”

Your lips spread into a smile and you lift your glass of wine to your lips, taking a small sip before bringing it back down to your lap. No matter how many times you scream at yourself, internally, that nobody knows you’re not engaged and to calm the fuck down, you can’t stop your leg from bouncing up and down, showcasing your nerves in the most outward way you possibly could. “Wonder when my parents are getting here - should’ve texted them and told them separately. Did you tell your mum?”

“Told her the truth,” Harry tells you, tilting his head into yours in a way that feels so natural you swear you could stay this way forever. “You’re not tellin’ your parents the truth?”

“Bless my mum,” you sigh, “but she can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

Harry exhales a soft laugh, eyes darting around the room full of people before landing back on yours, and your gazes lock for just the briefest of seconds before he’s glancing down at your lap. “Y’don’t have t’do this if you’re uncomfortable, y’know. We can jus’ say - the pressure of m’job was too much.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you tell him, which is true. You’re nervous, for sure, but he could never make you uncomfortable. “And, ironically enough, that’s my excuse for when we divorce.”

Your voice drops to a near breath on the last word and Harry’s head drops back with a bark of laughter that’s entirely too loud for the setting you’re at but you can’t bring yourself to reprimand him. “Always talkin’ ‘bout our divorce,” Harry breathes, tilting his head closer to yours so his mouth is close enough to your ear that you can feel his breath, hot against your skin. “What if we fall in love, babe? No divorce then. Don’ y’want us t’live happily ever after?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” you roll your eyes, even if you’re almost positive you will (or already have) and shake your head at Harry’s resulting chuckle. “Been best friends for nearly five years, haven’t we? If we were going to fall in love, I reckon it would’ve happened already, Har.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, voice oddly soft and sounding just sentimental enough for you to narrow your eyes suspiciously at him - but before you can question him further, his eyes dart down to where your leg is still frantically bouncing up and down. “Bloody hell, love - bouncin’ your leg so much. Y’look like a nervous wreck.”

“Thanks,” you begin, and whatever else you’d been meaning to say dies in your throat as Harry’s arm shifts from around the back of your chair and his hand comes down firm on your leg. His fingertips brush your knee and his palm lays soft against your thigh, just high enough to gently brush the end of your black dress and you wish you could control the way your stomach flips again and again like a fucking gymnast.

It’s to keep up appearances, you tell yourself. So people don’t think I’m so nervous. But it feels so nice, so natural in a way you hadn’t expected, feeling his hand resting on your thigh like it belongs there, fingertips drumming against your knee which most certainly isn’t bouncing anymore.

Your eyes flit up to his, narrowing them ever so slightly as if to sniff out his intentions, and out of the corner of your eye you can see two familiar figures walking in the high arched doors of Aunt Alice’s service. Your parents break off from each other nearly the second they enter, your father skirting off to greet some of his cousins and your mother’s eyes scan the room filled with relatives before landing on you and Harry.

“Mum’s here,” you tell Harry, pushing yourself to stand, and the feeling of his hand dropping off your thigh is a sensation you absolutely despise. He stands soon after you, adjusting the cuffs of his black button down shirt, and for the first time since the funeral began, you can see the beginnings of nervousness creeping upon him. A light pink flush works its way up his neck to his cheeks and he brings his hand up to run through his hair, inhaling a shaky breath. “You look nervous, Har. You’ve met my mum before.”

“S’different. Now we’re engaged.”

“Not too different.” You hook your arm with Harry’s, patting his hand with yours, and he gives you one grateful fleeting grin before you begin walking over to your mother. She’s bent over the guestbook, scribbling her name with the feather pen resting beside the log. You stop walking when you’re just a couple paces behind her, waiting for her to turn around and see you two - and your voice drops to a hushed tone as you reassure Harry. “I think she already sort of thought we were dating anyway - so she won’t care too much.”

“Wait - she did?”

“Hey, mum!”

You’re getting married in a week.

And, sure, you’d known that the entire process would move quicker than you could imagine but it still feels surreal and you still reckon you haven’t thought it through enough. It’s worsened (or, in some way, bettered) by the absolute adoration your family had immediately adopted towards Harry after meeting him just a few days ago, your aunts pulling you aside at the funeral and the repast that occurred after and whispering in your ear about what a handsome man he is!

Well, they’ll certainly be disappointed when, in a month or two, you pop in to the next family gathering and announce that you two had gotten divorced as quickly as you’d been wed. Harry will be your ex husband and, at that point, surely people would be suspicious at the speed of which everything had happened but - hey - you’ll have your house and your best friend and that’s all you really need, isn’t it.

Yeah.

Slowly but surely, you’re coming to peace with it, and Harry’s certainly making it easier by being so zen about it all. His nerves at the funeral had been just about eradicated because your mum loves him, which you knew, and your father had seemed positively overjoyed at the news of your engagement, but they’d both seemed rather disappointed at your decision to elope instead of spending the time planning a big white wedding. And you’d expected that, but you figure that, by the time your second marriage inevitably rolls around, it’ll be real (realer than whatever you’re feeling for Harry, because you’re still not sure) and your father will walk you down the aisle and you’ll be able to go shopping for a big gorgeous wedding dress like you’d always dreamt of wearing.

You haven't even bought a dress. The one you’re wearing now, staring at yourself in the floor length mirror propped against your bedroom wall, is one you’d purchased for your college graduation to wear beneath your gown - simple and flowy, falling to just about your mid-thigh, and the only redeeming quality for even being considered a wedding dress is its white color. Still - it isn’t as though it’s a real wedding, in the traditional sense, so it doesn’t make sense for you to spend too much on a gown you’ll don for a trip to the courthouse and then get sad whenever you look at it again, post-divorce.

No, you don’t think you like it. You’d liked it for your graduation but for a wedding (your wedding) you wish you had something just a bit nicer, and you want to strip out of it and change back into your jeans but Harry’s sitting in your living room, waiting for you to model the stupid thing for him, and you’d hate to disappoint him. So you inhale softly, run your hand down the fabric, soft beneath your fingers, and reach for the door.

Harry’s on his phone when you step out of your bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind you, his body looking strangely large where he’s perched on the small loveseat in your living room. Everything in your apartment seems too small for him - or just too small in general - and it’ll be a nice change to live in a house where you can hold gatherings of more than 5 people without feeling like sardines in a can.

“Har,” you call, reaching down to tug the ends of your dress just a bit further down your thighs as you step further into the living room, bare feet padding against the plush rug your parents had gotten you as a Christmas gift the year prior. “What do you think of the dress?” You can hear the click of his phone as he turns it off, dropping it on the cushion beside him, and heat creeps up your cheeks as his gaze turns to you - you should feel self conscious, the way his eyes roll up and down your body, drinking in every bit of your dress, but you fucking love it. Love the way his lips part into a small o and upturn into a grin, how he pushes himself to stand and close the distance between you two until he’s hardly two inches away from you, how he reaches down to pick up the end of your dress as though examining the fabric.

“Do you like it?” You question as Harry drops your dress, letting the fabric fall back down around your thighs. “Wasn’t sure if I did.”

“I love it,” he tells you, immediate and forceful and you can tell he means it with his whole chest - maybe you love it, too. “Y’look beautiful.”

“You don’t think it’s too simple, do you?” Maybe you’re fishing for more compliments but you allow yourself to do it shamelessly. “It was my graduation dress - remember?”

“I do remember,” Harry grins, tugging at the bottom of your dress, and keeping his hands busy is a nervous habit of his that you’ve grown to recognize from a hundred miles away, but you can’t think of why, exactly, he’d be nervous now. “Looked so pretty, walkin’ across tha’ stage. I was so proud.”

You smile, gaze dropping down to where his fingers are fiddling with the skirt of your dress, and you think you’ll wear this dress every single goddamn day if he reacts as positively to it as he is now. “You sound like my dad.”

His nose scrunches when you look back up at him, and your heart twists inside your chest. “Don’ make it gross.” You simply shrug, bringing your fingers up to drum against his shoulders through the fabric of his Fleetwood Mac shirt, his muscles flexing ever so slightly beneath your touch. “M’being serious, though. I love the dress. Y’make the prettiest bride on the planet - m’a lucky man, aren’t I.”

From the moment you walked out of your room you’ve been feeling heat burning your cheeks but it doesn’t stop you from gently smacking his shoulder. “Stop it - you’re gonna make me blush.”

“Looks like y’already are, Mrs. Styles.”

Should that name make your stomach as topsy-turvy as it does?

You shake your head, smoothing your palms over the front of your dress to both eradicate the wrinkles that adorn the fabric and to wipe off the sweat cropping up on your hands. You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervous around Harry before and you can’t quite place your finger on why, but it’s getting more difficult to look him in the eye with your heart pounding as fast as it is. “I’m not gonna be Mrs. Styles for another week.”

Harry exhales softly, fingertips tapping against your hip and you hadn’t even realized how close his hands were to that spot of your body - but it feels comforting, his touch on an oddly intimate part of you. “I can’t wait,” he says, and you can’t, either. “Makin’ me a very lucky groom, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe could make you go crazy if you focus on it for too long, so you don’t - and it’s hard to focus on much other than Harry himself as his head drops down, forehead pressed to yours, and oh God you can smell his fucking gum, and if you tilt your head up ever so slightly -

Is he going to kiss you? You think your heart will explode but you’ve never wanted anything more so you tilt your head up, just a bit, grip tightening on his shoulder, and you can feel his breath growing warmer against your face -

The sound of Harry’s phone ringing in his pocket snaps you out of your haze.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands dropping off your hips, and your head drops downwards with a soft groan. It was so close. You could feel his breath against your face and how did that fucking opportunity pass you by? - “S’my mum. Fuck - m’sorry.” And you’re not sure if he’s apologizing for the call or what had (or, rather, had not) happened but it doesn’t matter.

One glance at the phone he’s tugged out of his pocket shows that he’s right - Anne’s contact photo smiles up at you and you give Harry a small nod, faking the smile you’re not feeling, before taking a step back against your plush carpet as he turns around, back to you, phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m gonna change,” you whisper to no one in particular. Harry’s head turns just a bit so you can catch the apologetic look on his face before he’s loudly greeting Anne, and you’ve never liked eavesdropping on their calls. So you turn and head to your bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind you and turning to stare at yourself, wide-eyed, in your mirror.

He almost kissed you.

He didn’t - but would he have? If Anne hadn’t rung him - would he have leaned down, breathing shaky, like how it always is when he’s nervous, and ever so gently pressed his lips to yours? And you would’ve known exactly how it feels to be kissed by him, whether it would be as dream-like as all the times you’ve dreamt of it. His hands on your hips, yours on his shoulders, bodies slotted together until your hands are roaming and you’re pushing him on to the couch, sliding into his lap and his hands would roam to your thighs -

It doesn’t do well to think about it now. You don’t want to get yourself too worked up about it - that doesn’t do anyone much good - and you don’t want to take too long to change. So you inhale a soft breath, smooth your clammy palms back over the front of your wedding dress, and you allow yourself one final glance in the mirror at the attire you’ll be donning in a week’s time before reaching around to your back, fiddling with the zipper until you can begin to tug it down.

You and Harry haven’t talked too much since you showed him your dress, and it’s probably not very great etiquette for an engaged couple, but you two have never been normal anyway.

He sent you a picture of the suit he’s wearing and it’s as every bit unconventional as your excuse of a wedding dress, and you told him that - how you would be a pair for the books, the opposite of what a regular married couple looks like. And you texted him just yesterday and asked if he would make you two a reservation at your favourite restaurant for dinner after the elopement (he always tended to get the nicer tables, and you don’t pretend not to know why) and he sent you back two thumbs-up emojis in response.

You’re getting married in three days, though. It would probably be best to talk about it with him before you cross that bridge but it’s never been one of your stronger areas, so you leave it be for now.

“Are you alright?” Your friend questions, tilting her head in so you can hear her against the thumping music of the club. Your friends had insisted on dragging you out for a bachelorette party the second they hard of your engagement and it would be out of character for you to refuse a night of drinks on them - even if you’d rather stay home and think about Harry and all the things you should’ve done when he was at your apartment. Getting drunk out of your mind does seem preferable to wallowing, though, now that you’re out and about and well on your way to getting smashed - so you turn to Olivia and nod once, a simple jerk of your head.

“I’m fine,” you tell her, reaching over to grab the cocktail Amy had gotten for you and bringing the straw to your lips. “Just thinking about Harry.”

Amy snorts from her spot across the booth, dipping her finger into her empty shot glass and licking up the droplet she collected. “Can’t believe it took you two so long to get together.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about it,” interjects Olivia, reaching over to grab your glass out of your hand and taking a sip of your drink. “How long have you two been together again?”

Fuck. You’re in the grey area between being tipsy and being drunk and you can’t remember how long you and Harry had claimed to be together. Was it a year or two years? You think it’s a year - you’d wanted to go as low as possible with your answer. Did we say six months? That seems too low. “I’ve liked him since I’ve known him,” you answer instead, which is absolutely the truth, and Amy and Olivia are both too drunk to ponder about your evasion of the question. “Loved him, even.”

Your fingers brush against your phone, sitting on the table face down, as your friends playfully swoon - the last time you’d texted Harry was to tell him you were going to the club, and you hadn’t checked to see if he responded. It’s always been a habit between the two of you to text where you’re going, in case something happens, which seems oddly barbaric at times but you’ve always appreciated it.

“You’re so lucky,” Amy informs you, reaching across the booth to intertwine your fingers. She gets sappy when she’s drunk and you can tell from the distinct crack in her voice that she’s mere seconds away from bursting into tears and professing how much she loves you and Olivia - you don’t ever quite enjoy being around to see that. “I mean, really. You and Harry - we always knew it would happen -”

“I should call him real quick,” you mumble, watching as her eyes water over, and Olivia rolls her eyes with a grin as she scoots around the other side of the booth so Amy can throw her arms around her. You grab your phone and push yourself out of the booth, maneuvering through the crowd of people until you’ve reached the bathroom.

It's a single stall and the club is small enough that you only have to wait a minute or two before a thoroughly shitfaced woman stumbles out of the bathroom, a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shoes, but she’s gone before you can point it out to her. You brush it off with a shrug and shut the door behind you once you’re inside the bathroom - it smells like Febreze and mint soap, and the scent of the mint reminds you of Harry’s breath and you really need to call him, don’t you.

You’re scrolling through your call log before you can wonder if calling your best friend who you’re in love with while you may be quite drunk is a bad idea - the phone is ringing just as you begin to - and he’s picked it up just when you realize you’ve made a mistake.

“Hey, babe,” Harry says from the other end, voice crackling with the poor reception in the club. He sounds groggy and raspy and you can tell you’ve either woken him up or he’s trying to go to sleep, and you don’t actually know what time it is, you realize. “What’re you up to?”

“I’m at a club,” you tell him, and you can hear his soft exhale of air and you can practically picture the slow smile spreading across his lips. “I’m out with Amy and Olivia - they wanted to take me out for a bachelorette party or something - s’kinda dumb, I dunno -”

“Are y’drunk? S’just, you’re slurrin’ a lot -”

“I’m tipsy,” as you sit back on the closed toilet seat, fingernails digging into your thigh. You don’t actually know what you’d called him to say but four days without talking to Harry seems like it’s setting some sort of record and you hate it. “Just wanted to call because - um - well, I miss you.”

For a second you think the call may have broken up - you can’t hear much beside his soft breathing, and you pull the phone away to check if it’s still connected. But then he sighs softly, and you’re quick to press your phone back to your ear. “I miss y’too, m’love - ‘course I do.”

“That’s sweet.” You hum softly, kicking your toes against the tiled bathroom floor. “I thought you might be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Dunno,” you shrug. “That’s why I was confused. But you haven’t texted me much.”

You can fucking sense him rolling his eyes. “Well, y’didn’t text me either. I thought you were mad at me -”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what happened the other day,” you interject, and you know you wouldn’t be telling him this if you weren’t teetering more towards being drunk instead of tipsy, “and I really wanted to kiss you, you know. I mean, I thought you were going to - and then it didn’t happen.”

“Well, m’mum called.”

“Would you have done it if she didn’t?”

There’s a pause for only the briefest of seconds before Harry says, “‘Course I would have.”

Your heart flutters inside your chest and you lean your head back against the wall, nails digging further into your thigh and it’s difficult to hold back the grin that threatens to split your goddamn face in two. God, he would have. He would have kissed you - does he love you like how you love him? It seems fucking unreal, like something you’d dream up in your deepest sleep. You’d never thought Harry would ever feel the same way, even as you got a fucking marriage license together and planned out the dinner you’d eat after your elopement and -

You can’t think of a single other one of your friends who would fucking marry you for any reason, house or no house, life or death. And who would you do it for? Not Amy, not Olivia, even if they asked you nicely. It’s a commitment - a huge one - one that you wouldn’t be willing to do for anyone.

But you’d do it for Harry, in a heartbeat. You know you would. You’d have the fucking dress on before he could finish asking, and isn’t that what you had done, really? He hadn’t had to convince you much at all. You’d been willing from the get-go.

“Really?” Your voice is barely a breath, a soft exhale of air, reeking of the giddy joy you’re feeling at his proclamation. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Y’know I never lie to you.” Harry sounds nearly offended at the mere idea. “You are m’fiance. Comes with a code of conduct.”

You roll your eyes, and just then there’s a loud knock against the door - you jump violently, phone nearly slipping from your grasp. For a minute you’d forgotten you’re in a club bathroom and you know you’ve been here far too long to be appropriate - you’ll give yourself just one more minute to talk to Harry. “What about when we get divorced? Gonna lie to me then?”

“Always talkin’ about the divorce,” he murmurs, and his voice sounds so full of adoration that you’re nearly overwhelmed by it. “D’you have such little confidence about the strength of our relationship?”

If it were up to you, you’d be with Harry forever - but you can’t tell him that, not yet. “It’s not as though it’s a traditional relationship, you know. I don’t think most marriages that began for the sake of a house inheritance last too long,” you smile, feeling heat burning up your face even if he can’t see you. “Just generally speaking.”

“Hope y’got the statistics t’back that one up -”

Another louder knock shakes you again, and you jump up as though someone had set you aflame. Your phone nearly slips out of your clammy grasp once more and you clear your throat, lowering the device to your shoulder and calling, “Just a second!” to whoever’s waiting impatiently outside. You raise your phone back to your ear and clear your throat again. “I’ve gotta go, Har. I’m in the bathroom at the club - been in here a bit too long.”

“Aright,” Harry says, and you can hear soft shuffling from the other end, audio still crackled by the reception. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

You tilt your head to the side, scrunching your nose up before remembering he can’t see you. “I think it’s tradition for the bride and groom not to see each other before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Now you’re a stickler for tradition?”

“I’ll see you at the courthouse, Har,” you tell him, before pulling the phone from your ear and hanging up. For a second you can’t move, staring down at Harry’s contact in your phone with a giddy grin that surely makes you look like some child in a candy store - and, in a way, you are - and it’s only a third knock at the bathroom door that has you scrambling out the door, giving an apologetic grin to the girl waiting impatiently.

Being married - for the record - doesn’t feel too much different than before.

There’s a shiny ring on your finger that Harry had bought, and when you glance across the table where he’s sitting, clutching his menu, you can see the similar wedding ring on his left hand - it’s simplistic and small and contrasts with the rest of his clunky rings and it makes you feel strangely warm inside when you spend too long looking at it. And, even after you and Harry had talked at the club, your ‘post-elopement’ dinner doesn’t feel entirely different than all of the other dinner dates you’d shared before the entire situation began. It’s familiar and sweet and his ankle is hooked around yours under the table, forcing a permanent heat onto your cheeks.

Harry rests his menu on the table, fingertips drumming against the laminated paper, and you similarly drop yours to look at him. “Think m’gonna get the spaghetti.”

It’s a testament to the slight air of awkwardness surrounding you both that the only thing he can think to talk about is the food he’s getting - but you’ll play along. “I like the raviolis,” you tell him. “Think I’ll get those.”

He hums softly, pushing his menu further into the table. “Can y’believe tha’ we’re married? I can’t. Seems so weird.”

“Doesn’t feel that different,” you disagree, toes tapping against his ankle beneath the table. “It’s not like we didn’t go out for dinner together before we got hitched.”

“We’re playin’ footsies under the table, babe.”

You grin down at your napkin, resting on your lap on top of your wedding dress. “Be careful or I’ll kick you, Har.”

His ankle tightens just a bit around yours beneath the table and you could watch that small smile spreading across his face for the rest of your life. “Y’wouldn’t dare - don’t y’love me?”

Yes, you do, so you resist the urge to unhook your ankle from around his and deliver a swift kick to his calf - just rest your palms on the table, scratching lightly at the rustic wood of the table. It’s hard for you to even pretend to be mad at him when all you can think about is how much you want to climb over the table and straddle him - as his wife you suppose it isn’t an insane thought, and you’re nearly certain he’s feeling the same way. Hadn’t he told you he would have kissed you if he hadn’t been called by Anne? Maybe you’ll get a chance to do it again - later. You’ll never give up the opportunity again.

“When d’you get t’move into the house?” Harry questions, leaning in just a bit in his seat.

“A few months, I think.” You shrug. “Reckon I’ll start redecorating before then, though. I’m already looking at furniture - I’ve gotta save up for most of it, though. Might sell my apartment before then.” There’s a pause, and then you shrug once more, picking at a crack in the table. “I’ll probably move back in with my parents.”

Harry’s eyebrows are raised when you glance up at him, fingers paused in their drumming on the menu. “Are y’kidding? We’re married. You can move in wit’ me.”

“I can’t ask you to do that -”

“Not asking, are you? Even if we didn’t just elope at a courthouse, you’re still m’best friend. Can’t have you moving in t’your mum’s basement.”

You smile softly, flattening your palms against the table and craning your neck to examine the ring - proof that it had really happened, that you’re really married. It still doesn’t feel quite real, no matter how many times you and Harry casually talk about it. “Was gonna live in her attic, actually.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ll pay f’the furniture, too. Don’t look at me like tha’ - s’our house. Needs t’be ready f’when we move in.”

You hesitate, trying poorly to conceal the way your grin is arching further upwards at the mere prospect of what he’s hinting at. Living with Harry? Jesus, even if you weren’t in love with him, living with him sounds like an absolute dream, only made better by your feelings for him. And picturing walking through an Ikea, searching for furniture, feeling his arm around your shoulders as you two look online for decorations - if heaven were a place on Earth, it would be your Aunt Alice’s estate, soon inhabited by you and your husband. “Well, we’ll talk about it, alright?” you land on as your response.

For a moment, neither of you say anything, and the silence isn’t as stifling with awkwardness as it had been before. Then Harry reaches over, resting his hand overtop of yours, fingers instinctively intertwining, and your heart nearly splits itself in two - he initiated it, holding your hand, and maybe you shouldn’t feel so surprised but you can’t fucking help it. Your scalp is tingling and you swear your eyes are going to bubble over and his hand feels just as soft and beautiful as you’d expected - as you’d always dreamed of.

You’re not sure when, exactly, there would ever be a better time to tell him than now, so you clear your throat and squeeze his hand and confess, “I’ve liked you for a really long time, Har.”

Sharing your feelings isn’t necessarily your strongest spot but you’re feeling egged on by absolutely everything, and the way Harry brushes his thumb against your palm encourages you to continue. “I mean - since we met, basically - but I never told you. Never thought you would like me back.”

“I did,” he interjects, and you look up at him with furrowed brows. “Liked you back, I mean. Clearly - hope y’didn’t think I’d run off an’ marry anybody this fast.”

“I just thought you were being nice.”

“You’re silly, then.”

“A real idiot,” you proclaim, rubbing soft circles into the back of Harry’s hand, and you swear you’ll never let go unless someone fucking rips you away. “Guess I should’ve figured it out, then - seems like we did everything in the wrong order, right?”

Harry snorts, a noise that draws the slightest attention from an older couple sitting at a table beside you, but neither of you pay them any attention. “Get married first, fall in love second.”

“I was already in love,” and you’re not sure why, exactly, you had said that but it feels right and true falling off your tongue so you decide, pointedly, not to regret it.

There’s no hesitation when Harry responds, voice laced with the authenticity you’re so desperately craving - “Reckon I was, too.” You barely get a minute to process that and how it’s making your stomach do flips and turns like an Olympic medalist before he’s standing up, fingers still interlocked with yours to pull you up with him. “How d’you feel ‘bout a sleepover tonight?”

“A sleepover?”

He barely looks at you as he fishes through the pocket of his dress pants to pull out his wallet. “Not like we haven’t had them before.”

That’s true - you’ve slept over at Harry’s house so many times, it’s like a second home to you - but you have a distinct idea that, based off of your previous conversation and the wedding rings shining on both of your fingers, this sleepover will be just a bit different.

“Skipping out on the reservation, then?” you question, squeezing Harry’s hand as he tosses a $50 onto the table - a significant overkill for your lemonade and his Coke but you suppose he’s feeling rather generous today. “I am rather hungry.”

“We’ll eat at my house,” he insists, leading you through the maze of tables with a grip that’s so tight, you wonder if he’s having the same qualms as you are about never letting go. “Y’like pizza, don’t you?”

You’ve been in Harry’s house more times than you can count, but it’s never been like this.

His hand is still firm in yours and it’s a feeling you adore - even if his palm has gotten clammier with every second, every step you took closer to his front door, and you can practically smell the nervousness rolling off of him. It’s not unlike the worry that’s overtaken you because you’re not quite sure what he’s expecting - only know what you want to happen and you pray to any god above that your desires align with his.

The sound of Harry shutting the door is the only crack of noise burning through the otherwise thick silence surrounding you. Neither of you had known what to say and the car ride was taken in comfortable silence, hands clasped and heads bobbing to soft music playing on the radio, but being in his house is different - there’s no music, no excuse for Harry to keep his eyes off of you, nowhere to lean your head and pretend to be resting your eyes while your heart uncontrollably thumps against your chest.

In ways, it’s better. Most ways, in fact.

Slowly, you turn to face Harry, fingers drumming against the back of his hand. His breathing is heavy and his eyes never leave yours, and you’re reminded remarkably of trying on your dress for the first time in front of him and your position hadn’t been too unlike this one - maybe now you can do it right.

It feels entirely natural, tilting your head up until you can easily slot your lips to Harry’s. They’re soft and plump and he kisses you back with a vigor you hadn’t quite expected - deepening it before you have the chance to react, his free hand that’s not clutching yours roaming to your neck and you can’t ignore the way your stomach flips at the feeling of his hand on your throat. But then his hand keeps moving up, palm pressing to your cheek in such a sweet gesture that doesn’t at all match the intensity with which he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth - your hand lands on his waist, gripping the flowy material of his dress shirt, pulling his body as close to yours as you can get.

You only pull away to catch your breath, grip tightening on his shirt to ensure he won’t move away - you need him close to you, need to feel his body against yours - the bulge near his thigh that you can feel against your pelvis, hardening with every second that passes.

“Why’d you move?” Harry questions, voice soft and vulnerable and you can’t help but lean up and land another kiss to his mouth.

“Had to breathe, Har,” you murmur, smoothing your hands against his waist and the wrinkles you’ve surely created in the fabric. His fingers brush the edge of your jawline and you can feel your skin growing goosebumps beneath his touch.

He simply hums in response, ducking his head down to kiss you again. It’s sweeter this time, soft and fluffy but you don’t want that now - God, you want his hand around your neck and his knee between your thighs but perhaps that’ll have to wait for another time. You’re needy for just about anything you can get and if that’s sugary sweet kisses, a touch so gentle you could trick yourself into believing it isn’t there, then you’re more than grateful.

Harry’s teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard enough to have you moaning into his mouth and your nails dig into his through his shirt - the resulting whine into your mouth has you smirking against his lips, pushing your hips further into his. It’s the clearest way you can think of to tell him that you need him beyond kisses and touches.

“Jesus,” he breathes and you can feel his cock, twitching against your thigh and it’s a sensation you never thought you’d be able to experience outside of your deepest dreams - it feels twice as good as you’d imagined. “Gonna make me go crazy, babe.”

That’s exactly what you want.

“Hey,” and you pull away from him, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath still hot on your face, “don’t we have to fulfill the tradition of consummating the marriage?”

He laughs, a loud exhalation of air rather than his true barking laugh, but you smile anyway at the sound. “S’not the middle ages - no one’s expecting us to, if y’don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to.” Harry’s hand slides backwards into your hair, pulling the strands into a ponytail and tugging and your resulting moan has him smirking like a smug bastard against your lips. “God, Har. I really want to.”

It seems that that was the exact response he’d wanted - you get one last lingering kiss to your lips before Harry’s pulling away, hand falling away from your hair and other still interlocked with your own. You don’t have a second to question where, exactly, he’s leading you but then he’s tugging you through the foyer and down the halls and up the staircase you’ve grown to know so well - the trek to his bedroom has never seemed so viciously long until now, but by the time Harry swings open the door, you feel as though you’ve been walking for hours instead of barely a minute.

“On the bed, babe,” he directs you, all raspy tone and dominance lacing every last syllable and you can’t ignore the gush of arousal you can feel rushing straight to your core. It’s the stuff that makes up dreams, really, his fucking voice, and you know just the four simple words would be enough to get you off for years from now. “C’mon.”

You wouldn’t dream of disobeying - your footsteps are nearly completely silent on the carpet as you walk over to the end of Harry’s bed, pushing yourself up to sit on the plush duvet, sinking into the mattress that feels like an absolute cloud compared to the rock you’re used to sleeping on. For a brief second, he doesn’t move - just stands and stares at you, chest heaving through the baby blue dress shirt that your needy grasp had wrinkled. Then he moves, shutting the door with a barely perceptible click before making his way over to you, gazing up at him with heat blazing in your eyes.

Perhaps you’re expecting him to push you onto the bed, to fulfill the dominant tone he’d held before, so it is a bit of a surprise to see your best friend (your husband) dropping to his knees before you, fingertips ever so gently trailing up and down your calves.

The bedroom is so silent, save for your panting breaths and Harry’s shaky ones and you reckon he may be more nervous than you are - you’d expected him to handle all of the confidence between you two but his fingers are shaking as he pulls off your heels, resting them side by side on the carpet at the end of the bed. Chills crop up over your skin as his gentle touch roams up your legs, landing on your knee, and your breath hitches in your throat as the man you’ve loved for nearly 5 years leans in, lips landing a soft kiss to the top of your calf.

This isn’t what you had expected - him fucking worshipping you, on his knees - you’d never pictured it in a million years. And maybe it’s proof of the difference between him and the other guys you’d been with - your ex-boyfriends and flings had always been worried about their pleasure, never paying you any attention, and Harry couldn’t be closer to the end of the spectrum. Your entire body feels warm beneath his watchful gaze and touch, how he brings one hand up to snap firmly when your eyes flutter shut.

“Look at me,” Harry directs, and despite the slight strain in his actions, his words still hold a never-faltering dominance that he’d had before. “C’mon, babe. I don’ want you to look away from me - can y’do that?”

It’s a task that’s easier said than done, but you nod anyway, swallowing thickly as Harry redirects his attention back to your legs. His hand, resting delicately on your left knee as though you’d break if he put too much pressure, slides down the length of your leg until he’s grasping your ankle, kneading the soft skin in his grasp while his lips linger at the top of your knee.

Using his grip on your ankle, Harry hoists your leg up onto the bed without warning, your toes digging into the end of the bed - uses his other hand to push your thigh outward so you’re on display for him like a goddamn feast and his smug grin proves that he can see just how wet you are, soaking through the white lace panties you’d chosen for the occasion. Heat blooms up your cheeks as he presses an open mouthed kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing your soft skin, and then he gives a dramatic inhale and - that’s -

You reach down, bracing both palms on the side of his face and forcing your husband (husband!) to look at you in the eye. He looks confused by your interjection and apologetic and that isn’t what you were going for but you hadn’t expected him to want to eat you out - most guys didn’t.

“You don’t have to do that, Har,” you murmur, giving a pointed glance to your lap that he’s been eyeing like it’s his dessert. “I won’t be mad.”

And Harry looks almost offended by the prospect of not wanting to, like you’d insulted him - “I want to. D’you not want me to?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice hardly above a breath, and when he begins to pull away you continue. “No! I mean - yes, I want you to.”

He grins, wide and toothy and reminding you of exactly why you’d fallen for him in the first place, and you settle back into your spot on the bed with your nerves almost completely eradicated. He wants to - he’s not doing it because he feels obligated - it’s already a step up from any other guy you’d ever been with.

Fingers trail up your thighs as Harry’s lips close around the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, cheeks hollowing as he sucks a deep purple hickey, and you lift your hips just a bit so he can hook his fingers in the waistband of your panties and begin to tug them down. The crotch area is practically dripping with your arousal and it takes a bit more force to tug it away from your cunt but once they’re gone, Harry grabs your ankle again and straightens out your leg, making it easier for him to tug the offending material down your body and toss them away from the bed before resting your foot back on the edge.

You can hear his shaky breathing as he pulls his lips away from your thigh, thumb smoothing over the mark he’d left as if to prove it exists. You’d get it fucking tattooed if you could - to forever commemorate this experience - his mark in such a secretive place, just a breath away from where you need him most.

“Jus’ - jus’ tell me if y’want me t’stop,” Harry tells you, eyes interlocking with yours once more, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Lean back f’me, then - not too far, jus’ a bit - still need t’see you.”

So you lean back, propping yourself up on your arms, a barely reclined position from how you’d been sitting before. It’s easier to see him as he grabs the hem of your dress, tugs it up just a bit, but when you lift your hips so he can pull it out from under your ass he doesn’t comply - well, perhaps he has other plans with it, doesn’t want the dress to come off just yet, and you can respect that.

The time it takes for Harry to duck his head beneath your dress, tongue flicking against your overly sensitive folds, seems like fucking years even if it’s hardly a second, but when he does your hips instinctively jerk forward into his mouth. His eyes are flashing when he looks up at you and you breathe out a stream of apologies, heart thumping in your chest, fingernails digging into the comforter beneath you. “Don’ move,” he directs, and you nod again and again and you don’t stop until his lips close in around your clit.

Your head drops back with a low moan as Harry’s teeth graze your clit, cheeks hollowing as he sucks the sensitive nub like it’s what he was born to do. The bottom of your dress covers the top of his head so you can’t see what he’s doing - you have no idea what his next move is and it makes the pleasure rolling through your body that much better.

“Fuck - fuck, Har -” the only two words you can think to moan roll off your tongue like a mantra, your back arching upwards despite his warning not to move but he doesn’t mention it - just drags one hand up, fingertips light and dancing on your thighs until he can splay his forearm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the bed. Your hand moves from digging into the sheets to digging into his scalp, tugging at the loose strands of hair that smell ever so slightly of gel and it makes your heart swell to imagine him putting product in his hair for the elopement - but before you have time to dwell on the sweetness of the sentiment, that talented tongue is licking a thin stripe up your folds before flicking your clit and you’re brought back to reality. “Fuck.”

“Feel good?” Harry mumbles, muffled where his face is pressed firm to your pussy and the vibrations of his words reverberate against your clit, sending a chill up your spine, and you let out a low whine at the sensation.

“Yes,” you breathe in return, tugging at his hair just a bit, the strands forming a makeshift ponytail like he’d done to you before. “Feels so good, Harry, god -”

His head pulls back just a bit, hem of your dress dropping to just the tip of his nose so you can see his eyes - smug and glinting and you’re sure that, if you could see his mouth, those lips would be upturned into a smirk and practically dripping with your arousal - but he goes back in just as soon as he’d pulled out, burying his face in the apex of your thighs and you collapse back against the bed with a shout.

Whatever order he’d given you to maintain eye contact disappears. It isn’t as though you can see his eyes anyway, and you couldn’t stop yours from rolling back into your head if you tried. Ecstasy rolls through your body and, God, you know you’re close already, thighs tensing under where Harry’s palm kneads the soft skin, hard enough that you’re sure you’ll see bruises tomorrow. Your cunt clenches and flutters around the emptiness you’re yearning to get rid of and your back arches up again, Harry’s restraint on your torso not enough to stop it now, and you’re so fucking close.

“Harry -” you moan, digging your fingernails into Harry’s scalp and relishing in his responding moan to your clit - “gonna cum, Har -”

He doesn’t say anything - but you can feel his tongue continuing its work, up and down your folds and circling your clit and that’s response enough. Your hips jerk into his face, back arching as you grasp his hair tight enough that it has to fucking hurt but then you’re cumming and -

“Oh, fuck!”

Your voice is high pitched, cracked with a desperate sob right in the middle of your words before you’re holding Harry’s head to your pussy, his tongue working your clit like he was born for it, his low moans muffled against you. The hand previously holding down your torso slides up your body until he can shove his hand into the top of your dress, tugging it down so your chest is. He plucks at your nipple before grasping your tit, full in his palm, and the added stimulation prolongs your orgasm, hips rolling against Harry’s working mouth.

You can’t see straight when Harry pulls his head out from the bottom of your chest but when your vision focuses you’re beyond thankful. His chin is glistening with your arousal, tongue poking out to lap at the moisture on his lips and he dons that shit-eating grin you’ve grown to know so well. You usually see it when he wins a board game or when you’re celebrating something - seeing it on his face after he’s finished giving you the best orgasm you’ve ever gotten is certainly different but not unwelcome by anyone’s standards.

There’s a second where all you do is lie back and catch your breath - staring up at the ceiling above you, chest heaving as the aftershocks race through your body. Harry, meanwhile, pushes himself to his feet, muttering a small groan about God, m’fuckin knees and gettin’ too old for this, aren’t I?

Lazily you hold your hand out towards him, wiggling your fingers, and he reaches out to interlock your fingers again. “How was that?” he questions, voice soft and almost insecure and it’s a sharp contrast from the dominance he held before, but you know it’ll come back.

“I think you’re a natural at that, Mr. Styles,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you pull him closer to you until his knees hit the bed and he’s forced to collapse on top of you, grin cracking onto his face. “Gonna undress me?”

“‘Course,” Harry murmurs, leaning down to place a brief kiss to your lips, but before you can lift your head to deepen it he’s rolling off of you, shifting onto his side and shuffling upwards so his head rests on the stack of pillows. You raise your eyebrows at him - it isn’t as though he can take your dress off from that position - but, as though he can read your mind, he raises his hand and pats his lower stomach pointedly. “Climb up, babe.”

For what seems like the millionth time today, you can feel heat pulsing in your cheeks but you hope it doesn’t show - just sit up, swing your legs around so you’re straddling Harry, hands on his chest and gazing down at him like the God he seems to be. His hair is splayed out on the pillows beneath him, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, and you can’t help yourself - lean down to land your lips to his again, and this time both of you allow it to deepen. His hand starts at your cheek like it had before but you reach for it, fingers wrapping around his wrist and maneuvering it downwards until his palm is wrapped around the column of your throat, and he squeezes once experimentally.

You moan softly, hips rolling against the pointed bulge in his dress pants, and Harry’s eyebrows raise. “No fuckin’ way,” he breathes, squeezing again just to hear the way your breath catches. “Gonna be th’fuckin’ death f’me.”

You’re fine with that, and you reckon he is too.

You reach behind you, tapping along your back until you can reach the zipper. You’ve only tugged it down an inch or two before Harry’s free hand replaces yours, dragging the zipper down as far as it can go before reaching for the bottom of the dress. It’s gone in an instant - tossed off the edge of the bed, to be worried about later - and you can feel his fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra before it comes undone, and then you’re naked.

You’d expected yourself to feel more embarrassed, or perhaps just nervous, and maybe it’s the effects of your previous orgasm but you’re feeling surprisingly calm - or maybe it’s how Harry looks up at you like you’re some sort of goddess sent from above, as though he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

It does wonders for your self esteem, truthfully.

“Gonna undress me, then?” Harry questions, hands smoothing up and down your thighs, eyes drinking in every bit of your exposed body on top of him.

You hum softly, pinching at the soft material of his shirt. “I don’t think so - want you to fuck me in your fancy clothes.”

“Well, if I’d known tha’ was an option -”

“Do you want me to put the dress back on?”

“No!”

You grin down at him before rolling your hips over his again, and it’s the last thing you manage to do before his grip lands on your hips and he’s flipping you over - your head lands dangerously close to hitting the headboard but it’s worth it, seeing him above you, fully clothed, pupils lust-blown and wide.

It hardly takes a second for Harry to undo the button to his pants and the sound of the zipper being undone is like music to your fucking ears - you spread your legs, letting him slot his body between them and oh, you can feel the tip of his fucking cock it’s right there and -

The first movement, Harry pushing himself inside of you, has you throwing your head back against the pillow, the moan coming from your throat mixing with a cry. He’s big - certainly bigger than you’d ever expected and bigger than any guy you’d been with - feels like he could split you in half if he wanted to but he stops, hands smoothing up and down your body, and you make a point of reaching for his hand and interlocking your fingers.

You’ll never grow tired of holding his hand, you think. Not for a while, anyway.

“How’re you doin’?” he questions, voice strained, and when your eyes shift back to him you can see the droplets of sweat beaded on his face. “Jus’ - jus’ tell me when, alright?”

“When,” you breathe almost immediately. You hadn’t needed too much time to adjust but you need him to move - you’re so pent up and you know it won’t take long to take you to your second orgasm but, God, he needs to fucking move. “Please, Har - please, fuck me.”

It doesn’t seem he needed much more encouragement than that. With one final move of wrapping his free hand firm around your neck and giving another small squeeze, Harry pulls out agonizingly slowly until just the tip of his cock remains in your heat. Just as you open your mouth to beg him to move again he slams back in with a force you hadn’t anticipated, your body rocking backwards of its own accord with the weight behind the thrust.

It’s exactly what you’d needed, though - fast and rough and his hand, cutting off your airflow just a bit, just enough to have you quivering beneath him. The low groan that rips out of his throat, reverberating through the humid bedroom has you pushing your hips up to his, trying to deepen where he’s buried inside of you to the hilt but you’re not sure how much deeper he could get. Feels like he could split you in half with every desperate thrust, every rut of his hips into yours and yours back into his.

“Oh - god - m’fuckin’ good girl, so tight around m’cock -”

Another rush of arousal gushes straight to your core with his filthy words and your head falls back into the pillow with a high whine, nails digging into the back of his hand as his other one tightens grip around your neck. It makes every desperate moan and cry that much airier and you can tell Harry likes it, staring down at you as his hips pound yours with absolutely no mercy and you don’t want any, anyway. It’s the subject of every single fantasy you’ve ever had about him, rough and hard and the sound of skin slapping skin overpowering your needy noises.

You’d never dreamt it would feel so good.

“Oh god, Harry!” Your eyes are rolling back into your head as your free hand trails down your stomach, shaking fingers focusing on your ignored clit and beginning tight circles around the nub. The jolts of pleasure that run through your body are - god, fucking amazing and you know you’re close, hardly need anything else to tip you over the edge. “Gonna - gonna cum, Har -”

It’s a testament to, perhaps, the long-growing tension between the two of you that his head drops backwards with a cry of me, too in a tone that’s so desperately vulnerable and it’s exactly what you’d needed - the reminder, in the midst of the rough thrusts and desperate moans, that this isn’t a one time thing. If you both allow it, it’s the rest of your life, just like this - and, God, you’ll allow it.

Your cunt clenches around your cock as you cum, eyes rolling back into your head and body spasming beneath him. In the midst of it Harry pulls out and you don’t get a second to question the sudden emptiness before you feel a familiar warmth hitting your lower stomach, and you open your eyes in time to see your husband, hand working at his cock as ribbons of cum spurt onto your stomach.

(You think you could cum again just from the sight but - well, you’ll hold back.)

His breathing is choppy and desperate, broken occasionally by a needy moan until he’s finished and he collapses on his back beside you, hands still intertwined with no intention of letting go. Nothing needs to be said - not yet - not for a little while, where you’ll talk about it more.

A little while ends up merely being a minute or two before Harry swings his legs over the edge of the bed, hand still clasped in yours, and makes to stand up - it’s only your tightening grasp on his hand that forces him to stop, glancing behind him to look at you.

“Don’t,” you plead, throat already feeling sore and voice raspy. “Just - another minute, alright? Then clean up.”

He hums softly but you know he won’t resist the prospect of just a brief cuddle - one of the few things you hadn’t done often when you were just friends, because you knew that, if Harry held you as close to him as he is now, lips pressed to your forehead, you wouldn’t be able to resist telling him how you felt about him.

Doesn’t matter now, though. And his arms feel so warm around you, clammy palm still pressed to yours like a fucking couple in middle school but you wouldn’t dream of letting go. It’s all so - so peaceful, lying with him and listening to his heartbeat as you rest your head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat thumping as fast and hard as yours is.

And - well. Barely a month ago you were convinced your Aunt Alice was the worst woman in the world - a hypocrite and an asshole, set out to taunt you by lording your dream home over you and snatching it away when you couldn’t find a husband in time. But now? Feeling Harry, landing soft kisses again and again to your forehead, you figure she’s not so bad, after all.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #best friend!harry styles #loose ankles #lol #one of my fav things ive written #i got carried away during the smut.... sorry

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127-mile · 3 years

Text

For all the wrong reasons.

Pairing: Doyoung x female reader.

Genre: Exes, enemies to lovers | Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Strong language, brief non-explicit mention of suggestive content.

Plot: Filing for divorce was probably the best decision you ever made with Doyoung. Having to marry him a second time for an inheritance wasn't on your post Doyoung to-do list.

Word count: +7.1k.

A/N: This is part of the Be your enemy collab hosted by @treasurehobi. | I wish I could remember where I saw the original prompt I used as an inspiration.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you spit when you see Doyoung outside of the building where you work. "You know I'm working, why the fuck would you ask me to come out?" Doyoung rolls his eyes, and you see the way he clenches his fists. It is so easy to rile him up, even though he probably already was before you joined him. "We need to talk."

"Talk about what? If it's not about all of the shit you still have in the garage, then I don't want to hear a word about it." he nibbles on his lower lip, an habit he always had when he is nervous, or ready to explode. You witnessed it way too many times. "You are rambling, you idiot!" you do not have the time, or the faith to keep up with him, so you turn on your heels, and when you put your hand on the doorknob of the heavy glass door, he calls out for you. "Wait."

"Doyoung, I have to go back to work, what do you want?" you ask in a long sigh and he mumbles something you can't quite understand. "Can you repeat, I can't hear anything you say when you mumble between your teeth." he takes a step closer, because he doesn't want to have to yell for the whole world to hear. "My aunt is dead." oh, that was not was you were expecting.

"Which one? The sweet one, or the old bitter bitch?" you ask as you turn to face him once again. "The sweet one." that's too bad, because this was probably the only member of Doyoung's family that you always liked, also the only member of his family that liked you from the minute you stepped inside of the house when you were 15. "I'm sorry, I know you loved her."

"I thought you deserved to know, she always adored you," he starts, and you cross your arms over your chest, maybe you should have taken your jacket before going out. "but this is not the only reason I came here." You do not try to think about why he is here, so instead, you prompt him to keep talking. "She left a will, and you know how all of her children were assholes so she gave them the bare minimum, and she gave me the rest."

"Good for you, I guess, you always wanted the lake house." he shakes his head, because yes, the lake house is a sweet addition, and he can only dream of the weekend he is going to spend there for the rest of his life, but this is still not why he is here. "You have to know, that if I had the choice, I would not be here, trust me, you are the last person I wanted to see." alright, that hurts. "Then what do you want from me?"

"We need to get married."

Your eyes open wide, and you throw your head back to laugh heartily. "Doyoung, we got divorced last year." he rolls his eyes, and you follows the movement of the tip of his tongue wetting his lips with your eyes. "I know, this was the best day of my life. But my aunt believed in us, she believed in our relationship, in our marriage, and the will stipulates that if I want to inherit everything, we have to be wedded."

"That's a joke, right?" you ask and he shakes his head. You know it is not a joke, you have known his aunt for many years, and to be honest, you are not even surprised to hear that. You do not know how many times she reminded you that your marriage to Doyoung was the best thing that has happened in this family. "I guess you'll have to say goodbye to your inheritance."

"Oh come on, I'm not asking you for the fucking moon! I never asked you for anything, can't you do me one fucking favor!" he exclaims and you look around, you do not want any of your coworkers to see what is happening, because you'll never hear the end of it. "And if I do it, what do I get in exchange?" you ask in a sigh.

"Her car, money, that necklace she promised you, I don't know, whatever you want." the corner of your lips curl into a smirk, and he takes a step back. He knows you better than anyone else on this stupid planet, so he knows that this smile doesn't bode well. "Everything?" he knows he shouldn't, but he nods nonetheless.

"I want the lake house."

"What? You will never get the lake house!" he says, almost offended that you would have the audacity to ask for the only thing he ever wanted. The house where he grew up, the house he spent so many vacations in with his aunt and his cousins. The house where he proposed to you. "I'm not asking for the fucking moon, Doyoung." you imitate Doyoung, but unlike him, you speak in a much softer voice.

"I hate you." he mutters when he understands that you are making fun of him, and you shrug. "Tell me something I don't already know." you stay silent for a moment, and Doyoung, still waiting for his answer, shifts from one leg to the other. "If I do it, will I finally get rid of you?" Doyoung doesn't show anything, but hearing this does something to his heart. He doesn't know if it's relief to finally be able to move on after this, or the closure that it'll bring. "Yes, you won't hear from me after that."

"Alright," you start in a huff. "Let's get married. Again."

What a stupid idea, you both think as you part ways.

You know you should not be doing it, you know you should not get close to Doyoung again, and he knows it too, you both suffered too much before, and even after the divorce, that it will not bring anything good. You got married because of love the first time, and you are going to get married because of all the wrong reasons, the second time. Hopefully, this time, divorcing won't hurt as much.

"You look fucking stupid, who knitted this sweater, your mother?" you say as soon as Doyoung steps inside of the café. Doyoung does look stupid, but not because of the pink sweater, but because of his messy hair and the crooked glasses on the bridge of his nose. "My girlfriend made it for me," he says in a low voice as he sits down on the chair in front of you. "and it's not stupid, it's a pretty sweater. She spent a lot of time working on it."

"Your girlfriend? Poor soul. Does she know you are currently having coffee with your ex wife?" you ask, straigtening up on the chair. You did not know he had a girlfriend, and maybe it is for the better, because you would have told him to fuck off last week when he came to see you. "Yes, he does know." you hum sipping on your cup of tea. "And fo I have to expect a crazy girl banging on my door at three am, asking me to stop sleeping with her boyfriend, or did you finally find someone normal?"

"Do you always have to remind me of my past?" he asks, but you know it is a rethorical question, that he is not waiting for an answer, but there is no way you are missing an opportunity like this one. "Doyoung, we took one break in our relationship, and you found a way to date the most jealous girl on campus. She was fucked up, and she tries to push me down the fucking stairs, so yes, I have to remind you of your past mistakes."

"You are the worst." he brings his own cup to his lips, and he sips on the coffee he just drowned in milk and sugar like a kid who never had caffeine before. "So, I contacted the town hall, and we can have the ceremony there tomorrow at 2 pm." oh, how romantic, the complete opposite to your first wedding. So big, luxurious and filled with love and laughter. "Sounds like a dream. Do we have to get dressed, or what?" he shrugs. "I don't know. Wear something nice, not that ugly hoodie of yours."

"Fuck you. You were happy to steal my hoodie when we were still in university." he sighs with exasperation, he did not come here to be reminded of his youth. Of the time they could still hold a conversation without cursing at each other at the first opportunity, without wishing the other was somewhere else, or worst, dead. Of the time you did not hate each other as much as you do now.

"Do we need witnesses?" you ask and he seems to think about it, or to recall everything the town hall secretary told him on the phone earlier. "Uh, yes, I think we do, to sign the papers." that's where it will get complicated, you think. "Amazing, I can't wait to ask Yuta to sign the wedding papers. A wedding I put an end to last year." he is going to be so mad at you, and you can already hear him yell. "Eh, don't act like you are the only one who'll have to get yelled at! I have to ask Johnny, and you know how he gets when we do something he does not approve of."

"Why don't you ask your girlfriend to marry you for the inheritance?" you ask with genuine curiosity and Doyoung tilts his head to the side, and he looks at you like you just said the dumbest thing he had ever heard in his entire life. "Are you stupid, or are you trying to waste my time? The notary will not accept to give me anything if it's not your name on the marriage certificate." yes, you expected as much.

"Why does he even need a marriage certificate? That's stupid, there is no proof that we are not married anymore." he shrugs, putting his cup back on the old wooden table. "He is a notary, he is probably going to do some research to be sure we are not going against my aunt's will." you drink the last of your tea, and you stand up under Doyoung's gaze. "Alright, I have to go and talk to the Devil. If you don't see me at the town hall tomorrow, it's because he sent me straight to hell."

"Same goes for me. Good luck."

When you find yourself in front of Yuta's door, you try to muster everything you have to push the door. This is not going to be fun, but it has to be done, you can't ask some stranger to be your witness, because you probably need the signature of the same person who was by your side during your actual wedding. What were you thinking when you asked Yuta? Well, maybe because at that time, you did not think you would file for divorce, and get married to him again, a year later.

"Oh, hello, pretty stranger." Yuta says when he sees you in front of the door, lost in your thoughts. But his voice is enough to bring you back were you are, and to remind you of what you have to do. "Yuta, we have to talk." you whisper, and he heads for the living room. "Do I need to sit, or can I stay up?" he asks with the shadow of a smile on his face, he thinks it is not that serious, but it is, and he is in for a surprise.

"I think you should sit down." oh, his smile fades right away, and you nibble on your lower lip. You should have rehearsed what to say, because you find yourself stupid in front of Yuta who is waiting, nervously playing with his fingers. "Can you please start to talk before I start thinking all type of crazy things."

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, Yuta speaks again, and he asks the dumbest question he could have asked. "Oh my god, are you pregnant? Yes, that's it, you are pregnant! Am I the father? No, it's been too long, and we were careful every time. Wait, we did it last week? Isn't that too short to know? Oh my god, I'm going to be a father!"

Your eyes widen at his words and you shake your head furiously. "Yuta, what the fuck? I'm not pregnant, and we did not even sleep together last week!" he heaves a sigh of relief, and you roll your eyes. He gets excited really easily, but hecan also calm down as quickly. "Oh. Then who did I sleep with last week?" you should file for divorce with your friends too. "I don't know Yuta, I do not live here to see who you bring home every day."

"Are you calling me a slut?" he cackles and you shake your head, at least, the tension is way less tense. "Yuta, I did not come here to slut shame you or anything, I do have something important I have to tell you. And to ask you too, if you are willing to listen to me until I'm done before getting mad."

"Why would I get mad? I never get mad!" he says, offended, and you grab a chair to sit in front of him, you can't stay up for that, your legs are already shaking.

"Doyoung and I are getting married tomorrow, and I need you to come to the town hall at 2 pm to be my witness and sign the papers." you blut out and you cover your mouth with your hand, because you wanted to explain the situation before coming to this part, but you apparently do not have a brain to mouth filter.

Yuta stands up so fast that he almost trips on his own feet, he opens his mouth a few times but no sound comes out. You did expect as much. "What the fuck!" he says first, and you were expecting him to start yelling, but no, his voice is barely above a whisper. "You are back with Doyoung? Why would you do something like that? Are you masochist or just plain stupid?"

"Call me stupid one more time, and I swear to God that I will kick you in the balls right here and there!" you mutter and he rolls his eyes as he sits back down. "Listen to me, understand everything, and then you will be allowed to judge me."

When he stays quiet, you start talking again.

"Doyoung's aunt passed away, and she decided to give him pretty much everything she ever had, but it is stated in the will that if he wants to get the inheritance, we still have to be wedded. So he came to me the other day, asking me if we could get married again, so he could get the inheritance."

He hums and he crosses his arms over his chest. "And what will happen after?" you shrug. "We did not talk about it just yet, but I guess we are going to divorce. Again."

He heaves a long and deep sigh as he stands up, only to pace around the living room this time. "I understand what he is asking you. If he is doing it, it is because the inheritance is worth it. But have you thought about the consequences? Do you think you are emotionally strong enough to go through another divorce?" he asks in a soft voice.

"I don't know, Yuta. But I guess I will be? I mean, this time there will be no problem with separation of property, or anything. It's just a wedding of convenience, nothing else. No feelings involved." he stops in front of you, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. "Are you sure about the last part?" you hate when he asks this question. "Doyoung is my first love, and despite everything that happened between us, he will always have a special place in my heart no matter what I say, or show, but this is over. And he has a girlfriend."

"If you promise me that you won't let your heart get broken again, then you can count on me, I will be there tomorrow to sign the papers. Again." you wrap you arms around his waist, burrying your face against his toned stomach. "I promise." you whisper, and if you had your fingers crossed behind his back, this is nobody's business.

"Look who's here."

You turn your head when Yuta speaks, and your eyes meet Doyoung's. He is closely followed by a clearly annoyed Johnny who does not look up from his phone, and you wonder how bad it was yesterday. You would give everything you have to be able to witness what happened in the confine of Johnny's apartment when Doyoung asked him to come today. Did he punch him? That probably did not happen, but it's a thought that warms your heart.

"Are you wearing the fucking suit?" you ask and he stops, a bright smile illuminating his face. "Well, it is a wedding, it's only fair to wear the suit of our first wedding." what a little shit, he told you to dress nicely, but to not go all the way like it was real fucking wedding. "I wanted to burn it a few weeks after our break up, and honestly, I'm happy I didn't do it. Maybe I'll do it during the first weekend I'll spend in the lake house to celebrate my inheritance and our second divorce."

"What if I punched you in the face?" Yuta asks, stepping out in front of you, and you have to grab his wrist to be sure he is not taking another step. "I'm sure the suit will look way better with your blood on it!" you meet Johnny's gaze and he smiles, he has no intention to step in between them, and because you know it, and won't do it either, you smile back. "What's up Y/n, it's been a while."

"I'm getting married to my ex-husband for money, you know, the usual." he chuckles and you let go of Yuta's hand when him and Doyoung seem to relax. "I almost punched him in the face when he told me. "Johnny adds, and yes, it is basic Johnny's bevahior. "You should have done it, but I guess you still have time. Maybe you could do it when we get out of the town hall, as a wedding gift?" Doyoung looks at you, and at Johnny, in time with a frown. "That's a great idea! I'll do it, and I'll give you time to take a photo."

"Maybe I should marry you instead of Doyoung." you concede, when you enter the town hall. "Maybe you should, but it's not like I never asked you before." Doyoung stops, and you almost bump against his back and he turns on his heels. "What do you mean, it's not like you never asked her?" he asks in between clenched teeth. "Why do you care man?" Johnny answers and you chuckle.

Johnny is Doyoung's best friend, and yet, he loves pissing him off as much as you do, and that's probably why you get along so well. He puts an arm over your shoulders as you climb the stairs to the right room. "You should not touch her like that, we are supposed to get married." Doyoung says in a breath, and Johnny takes a step back. "It's a fake marriage, I can do whatever I want with the bride."

"Come on kids, right now is not the right time to fight." you say before the doors open on the mayor. "You can do it later." you enter the room, Yuta on your heels and with a pretty angry Doyoung beside you.

You come out half an hour later, your old wedding ring around your finger, and Doyoung with his. You are surprised he did not throw it away. "Well, that sucked." you mumble so as not to be heard by the mayor you smile at.

"Your first wedding was more fun. Taeyong got drunk and fell into the pond." Yuta says and you laugh at the memory. Yours and Doyoung's families left pretty early, so it was only the newly neds and your friends for the whole night, and things got out of hand pretty quickly, you probably will never forget any of it, even though you should.

"So, what are we doing?" Johnny asks, burrying his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "We have an appointment with the notary tomorrow morning, so we have the rest of the day." Doyoung says with a shrug and you turn your head to watch him. "Shouldn't you go home to your girlfriend, tell her everything about how you said "I do" to me for the second time of your life?"

"Fuck off, Y/n. Do you always have to ruin everything?" you try to stay quiet, you really try, but you can't. "Do I have to ruin everything? You are the reason we got a divorce, Doyoung! Our relationship turned to shit because of you, and you have the guts to tell me to stop ruining everything? You did it first, so suck it up."

"You do whatever you want, I'm going home, I'm tired of seeing his face." you say before kissing Yuta's cheek, thanking him for being here, as always, and before disappearing in the corner of the street, you look at Doyoung one last time. "You have the certificate, you can go to the notary on your own tomorrow. Good riddance, asshole."

You know this is not part of the deal, but you really do not want to see him for something you do not have to actually be there. The certificate will be enough for the notary to understand that you are married, and Doyoung, oh all mighty stupid Doyoung will find a good lie for the date on the certificate, you do not doubt that one bit. He is a good liar after all.

It is around 2 o'clock when someone knocks on the door, and nuzzled in a blanket on the sofa with an horror movie playing on the television, you do not feel like moving to open the door. Whoever it is, they can wait, or call you if it is urgent.

You heave a sigh of relief when the knocking stops, but then, it is your phone who starts to rind and you whine loudly. You pout, but when you see Doyoung's picture on the screen, the pout turns into a frowns and you pick up. "What do you want? Another wedding?" you hear him sigh from the other side of the line. "Open the door." oh god, now you have to stand up, and for who? For Kim fucking Doyoung.

You hang up, and after a minute or two of weighting the pros and cons, you stand up, and head to the front door that you open slightly. "What?" without saying a word, he hands you a letter and you look at him without taking it. "What is that?" he rolls his eyes, arm still stretched. "A letter for us, from my aunt, that the notary gave me earlier. I didn't think it would be nice to open it without you."

"You can come in, but I want you gone in five minutes." you mumble as you push yourself from the door to let him in. "Where is the carpet my mom bought you?" he asks as he takes his jacket and shoes off. "I unfortunately dropped a few glasses of red wine on it, and it became impossible to wash out, so I threw it away. What a shame, a beautiful carpet." of course you did, he knows you never liked anything coming from his mother.

"If you have the letter with you, I guess the appointment with the notary went well?" you go back to the living room and you sit down on the armchair. "He was a bit hesitant to accept the certificate as it was dated from yesterday." that was expected. "And what did you tell him?" he heaves a long sigh as he sits directly on the ground, like he used to do when he still lived here.

"I told him we had a flooding at the house, and that our certificate got ruined. I also said that the town hall lost some files, so we had to ask for a new one." that's smart. "You should open the letter, you only have 3 minutes left before I kick your ass out of this house."

He opens the letter and he looks at the words, written prettily by his aunt probably a few years ago, when she was still here, when she had hope about their relationship.

"My loves," Doyoung starts to read out loud. "if you are reading this letter, it means I am no longer in this world, but fear not, I will always be close to you, no matter where I am. You must have been surprised when you learned about the will, about the inheritance, but let me explain. My children, well, you know them, you know how they are and they do not deserve even half of what I have. Well, had. But you, you do deserve it. You are young, full of love, and ready to start your life together. As I am writing this, you are about to get married, Y/n is also in the room with me, she is getting her makeup done, and Doyoung, she is absolutely beautiful, you are the luckiest man."

Doyoung either takes a break to catch his breath, or to let the words settle.

"So, as I was saying, you are about to start your life together, and you only deserve the best. This is why I decided to give you everything I had. Doyoung, you grew up in the lake house, you even proposed to your beautiful wife there, it is only normal for you to get it. My car, that Y/n always loved, you can have it, as well as the necklace I promised to give her when my time would come. And the rest. You can keep what you want, you can sell the rest, or give it away, make someone else happy, I trust the two of you to do what is good."

You cross your arms over your chest, lowering your head when Doyoung starts to speak again.

"You two fell in love really young, and unfortunately, the families were not supportive enough, and made you feel like what you felt was not real, that you would get over it at some point. Y/n, I want to apologize for everything they ever said, or done to you, you never did anything to deserve any of this. You both never deserved the treatment they gave you. You only deserve the best, and all of the happiness the world can give you. I hope I will help a little bit on that. Be happy, always, be there for each other, and never forget that you should never go to bed mad. Doyoung, you are stubborn, so please, take the time to listen to Y/n, and turn your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking, you would not want to lose her. The love of your life. I love you both so much, thank you for always being by my side."

When Doyoung puts the letter back inside of the envelop, you sigh. "I did not even notice her writing back then." you say in a whisper. "But now, I understand her decision, she really was rooting for us, uh?" Doyoung nods, and he is touched by the letter, if the way his eyes are shining is anyhing to go by. "She was the only one who believed in us. She would be incredibly disappointed if she knew."

Because yes, if the situation is this tricky is because you did not tell her when you decided to break up. It was only supposed to be a few days/weeks break, but it turned into a divorce, and you were so busy with the divorce in itself, the lawyers, the moving and everything that you both forgot to tell her, and maybe it was a good thing, at least, she did not pass away sad or disappointed. Because if she knew, she would have changed her will. And to be honest, you are not even sure Doyoung's family knows.

"She would be, yes." you stay silent for a minute and when Doyoung stands up, you look up at him. "What are we doing now?"

"We should go to the lake house, so you can get whatever you want from the house, the necklace, and the books you loved so much, and then I guess we'll call the lawyer." what does it hurt so bad to hear him say that? You did not want to see him again, but after hearing what his aunt thought about you, about the relationship, it feels different, you head and your hearts are a mess.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow around 8am, so we won't come home too late, alright?" you nod, and without another word, Doyoung leaves the house, leaving behind him a heavy silence and a lot of things to think about for you.

"I hate you."

Doyoung's eyes widen at your words, and he turns his eyes but being the one driving, he can't watch you for too long. "What have I done? I did not say anything for over an hour!" he exclaims and you shrug as you look at the landcape behind the window. The city long gave way to the country side, and you have to admit that it is way prettier than all of the buildings of the city.

"The music sucks, and I still don't like your sweater."

"You need to stop hating on my sweaters, because you did not complain about them when you were cold!" he answers and you stick your tongue out at him. "Yeah well, maybe if you had agreed on letting me keep them, then maybe they would not look so ugly." he chuckles as he shakes his head. "You are impossible."

"Can I ask you a question?" he nods. "Did you tell your parents, about the divorce?" well, that was not was he was expecting. "I did, a few weeks ago." a few weeks ago, when you have been divorced for a year now, yeah, sounds valid. "They were probably very happy to learn the news." well, you were not happy about getting a divorce at such a young age, but you were definitely happy to get rid of his parents. So it's only fair that they felt the same.

"You know how they are, they told me it was for the best, that we were not made to be together, you know, what they always told us." you can hear his mother's voice in your head, and you wince at the thought. "At least I succeeded on making her happy once in my life."

You stay silent for a few minutes, but you open your mouth mouth. "And now I'm mad, because I promised myself to never do anything to make her happy! Fuck me!" Fortunately, he is at a red sign, because Doyoung starts to laugh to the point where his vision becomes blurry with tears.

"Stop laughing idiot!" you say when you hear the horns of the cars behind Doyoung's car. "Don't yell at me, it's your fault!" you can't help but to laugh along with him and it takes you a few minutes to calm down, and it's been a long time since you laughed with Doyoung, and it makes you feel.. light? And definitely happy.

"Oh my god, I don't remember the last time I came here." you say as you get out of the car when Doyoung stops the engine. The lake house is typical of a lake house, made of wood, old and yet beautiful. The flowers are blooming and it makes the entire area colorful and it is hard for you to close your mind to the memories that come with the view. "Honestly? I don't remember either."

Doyoung opens the door, and he starts to cough when it moves a cloud of dust around him. "Oh wow, I don't think my aunt came here for a long time." the house used to be clean, and smelling of fresh flowers and laundry, but today, it smells of nothing but dust and wilted flowers on the coffee table. "I have a few days off, next week, we can come to clean, if you want." you propose.

"We?" you shrug as you nudge him to enter the house, and even if it's not what it used to be, it still feels like home. And you know Doyoung feels the same, he told you so many times that he wanted nothing more than to finish his days here, with a family, and a dog. "I spent as much time in this house as you did, it's normal that I help you. But you can refuse, and clean by yourself, I don't mind."

He rolls his eyes and without another word, he climbs the stairs only to come back a few minutes later with a wooden box. "Here, take it." you take it, and you smile when you see his aunt's jewelery. She had incredible taste, and she never wanted to leave the house without wearing them.

"I'm only taking the necklace. You should give one of these rings to your girlfriend, I'm sure she would love it." you put the box on the coffee table and you take out the necklace you had fallen in love with at the second you saw Doyoung's aunt wear it. "What did you say?" you ask when Doyoung says something, but with the way his teeth are clenched, it is impossible for you to understand something.

"I said, I don't have a girlfriend." you do something you should never have done, you flop down on the couch, waving your hands to get rid of the dust around you. "What? But you said you had one the other day." he heaves a long sigh as he sits down on the ground, grimacing when he realizes how bad of an idea it was. "I know, but I did not think, I only wanted to piss you off, I guess." you roll your eyes. "You guessed right, because it did piss me off."

"For real?" this is the conversation you wish you did not need to have, but you also know that Doyoung is stubborn and he will keep hasking until you give him the answer he wants. "You know it well, I don't need to explain."

"Please, do." of fucking course.

"Doyoung, you are my first boyfriend, my first husband, and of course, my first love. And you will remain my first love, no matter how much we hate each other. No matter how much we hate each other, I will still love you." you could say, no matter if you are married or not, you will still love him, but you do not see yourself married to someone that is not him, honestly.

"I don't hate you, you know." Doyoung says, and you tilt your head to the side. "Well, you do act like you hate me, so it is a bit hard to believe what you are saying." he brings one of his leg against his chest, his chin on his knee. "It's true though, I only act like that because you hate me, and I don't want to give you another reason to hate me even more."

"So you are telling me, that you only pretend to hate me, because I hate you?" he hums. "When I only act like that because you hate me." his eyes open wide, and it is almost comical, especially when he understand what you are saying. "So you don't hate me?"

"The last months of our relationship, and of course, the divorce, it hurt me a lot, way more than I thought it would, but that never meant that I hated you. Of course, I did hate you, for a while, but like I said, you are my first love, and I always wanted you to be my only love. So no, I never hated you as much as I tried to show you for the past few months."

Doyoung chuckles. "We are idiots." but his smile slowly fades. "By the way, I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day, when I said you always found a way to ruin everything." oh yes, that hurt like a bitch, and it still hurts, thinking about it. "It's fine, Doyoung, I know you only said that because you were mad at me, but please, don't say something like that again, because it hurt. And also because I'll punch you in the throat next time."

"Threats, threats, you always threaten me, but you never do anything about it." he says in a sigh, and you gasp. "Don't push me, Doyoung, because I will act on one of the threats."

"You're all bark and no bite."

You stand up, and you pounce on Doyoung whose mouth opens in a silent scream, he was not expecting you to act on your words. "I'm not going to punch you, because you still have to drive us back home, but I will do it, one day, trust me." you say, straddling his lap.

You only realize your position on Doyoung when he stops breathing. "Oh." you could move, stand up and sit back down on the couch, but something tells you that you should stay here. You meet Doyoung's gaze, and your eyes close when his fingers brush against your cheek. "What are you doing?" you ask in a whisper and you feel him shrug. "I don't know. But tell me if you want me to stop."

You wonder what he means by that, but soon enough, you feel his lips grazing against yours and your breath hitches in your throat. Don't do it, you want to scream, you are going to ruin everything, but you find yourself unable to speak. Why? Because you are dying to kiss him. You have been dying to kiss him for so long now, you were just stubborn, and too hurt to stop denying the truth.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks in a soft voice, and you open your eyes. You can see so many emotions in his eyes, so many emotions you had not seen in a long time. And you know you shouldn't, you know you should stop whatever is happening, get your stuff and ask him to drive you back home, but something is stopping you. Your heart is taking over your brain. "Please."

The feeling of his soft lips against yours is enough to bring back so many memories. The nights you spent in this living room, in front of the lit fireplace, kissing and giggling like teenagers trying to not wake up his parents and his aunt. You were in love back then, and the world did not exist around you. It was the two of you and only the two of you.

And it still is the same no matter what happened the past few months.

"I love you, I always loved you, and I will always love you." Doyoung says against your lips.

Four months later.

"What the hell are you doing? There are people around!" you explain when you see Doyoung kneeling on the ground, in front of all the friends you had invited for a weekend at the lake house. "Doyoung, come on, get up!"

He shakes his head, and he takes out a red silk case, the same one you have seen so many times placed on his aunt's dressing table. The one her husband proposed to marry her when she was barely 18. The same age you were when Doyoung first proposed to you. The conversations around stop, and you are pretty sure you heard a gasp.

"I know we've done it twice already. Once for love, and once for this house, but I want this time to be the one for eternity. This past year without you has been the worst, since you weren't by my side, for the first time since our teenage years. Life without you makes no sense, and I intend to take this second chance to redo everything, and to redo everything perfectly. My aunt said we deserved it, and you know what? I agree with her. That's why I would like to ask you to be my wife. Again."

He takes a deep breath, and he almost loses his balance but you are quick to put a hand on his shoulder to help him out. Even though it is not the first time, it does feel like it, you feel butterflies in your stomach, and your heart is pounding in your chest. "Of course I want to be your wife, Doyoung." you say and his smile is so bright that you almost have to look away, but you do not. This is the smile you love more than anything in the world.

This is Doyoung's smile. And you always loved him. And you know that whatever life throws at you, you will overcome everything, as long as you are together. And as long as you communicate.

#nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #nct angst

300 notes · View notes

persephoneyss · 3 years

Text

Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

#bts #bts smut #bts yandere #yandere #kpop #yandere bts #yandere bts au #yandere kpop #yandere!bts #hoseok yandere #yandere hoseok #jhope #yandere! jhope #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bts fic #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok x reader

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Office Neighbors - Part Seven

a/n: this still isn’t the last of these two, I just like them too much! hope you enjoy! (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!)

warnings: slight angst, fluff, and smut

words: 18K

masterpost

“What?!” Harry reaches to turn the light on, and squeezes your shoulder as a silent apology for the abrupt light. “How…?”

“He…had a heart attack, I guess. My mom tried to wake him up because she couldn’t hear him breathing, and…” She sobs louder. “I have to go to Connecticut, and-“

“Where’s Noah?”

“He had to go to Vermont this week for a client, it’s just Rachel and I here, and I don’t know what to do! I can’t bring her with me, can I? Should I? I have no idea how long I’m going to be gone for, or what my mom’s plans are. I mean, she may need to come live with me Harry! I’m just, I feel all alone right now, and…”

“I’m coming over.”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not, I’m telling you that’s what’s happening. When’s Noah supposed to be home?”

“Wednesday.”

“Alright, Rachel can miss school tomorrow, and she can home stay here until he gets back, that way you can just leave tomorrow.” He says, pulling the blankets back and finding his sweat to pull on. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Just try to take some deep breaths.”

“Thank you.”

Harry hangs up and sighs. He blinks a few tears away before looking at you.

“Paige’s father passed away.”

“Oh no.” You frown. “That’s terrible.”

“Noah’s in Vermont, and she’s home alone with Rachel. I’m so sorry, but I have to go make sure she’s alright. As annoying as her parents are, she was close with her dad, and-“

“I understand.” You swallow. “You’re all she has around her, you should go.”

“Thank you.” He knees onto the bed to hug you. “You’ll be fine here with Andy?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair. “If I’m not back before he gets up tomorrow…wait for me to explain it to him, please?” You nod at him. “I have to bring Rachel back with me tomorrow. I’m gonna keep Andy home from school. I don’t know how he’ll take it, but I wanna make sure he doesn’t feel like he needs to be anywhere but with me, or if he wants to go to Connecticut with his Mum, I wanna give him that option. Fuck it, if I need to get him there I will, I-“

“Harry.” You stand up and take him in your arms, hugging him. “Go, she needs you.”

He presses his lips to yours before letting go of you. He grabs a couple of things before quietly heading out. You sigh heavily and get back into bed. You knew this was all part of loving Harry. All of this came with him, but it still stung a little to watch him leave. You groan and get over yourself. You couldn’t imagine going through what Paige was right now. You’d call Harry too if you were in the same situation.

Harry lightly taps on the front door of Paige’s home around one in the morning. She swings it open as she was waiting by the door for him.

“Harry.” Her voice cracks as she throws her arms around him.

He holds her close and lets her cry into him. He gets the door closed and walks them into the house so they can sit in the living room. He keeps his arms around her while she continues just to let it out. When he feels her breathing evening out, he speaks up.

“When did your mum call?”

“Um, it was my sister.” Paige says, wiping some tears away, looking up at Harry. “My mom called her first, and then she called me. They called an ambulance right away, and he was pronounced dead on the way there. I mean, I suppose it was peaceful since it was in his sleep, but...I thought he had more time, you know?” She sniffles.

“I know, I’m so sorry.” He rubs at her back and shoulder and she nuzzles into his chest.

“Thank god Allie lives within thirty minutes of them, I don’t know what I’d do. She said we’d talk more tomorrow, but she doesn’t think mom can live with her, she just doesn’t have the room like I do.”

“You only have the room because Allie didn’t wanna move out of the city to take this place. Now she’s using it as leverage.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“She couldn’t move out of the city, her and her husband need to live there for work…”

“I’m aware of that, Paige, I just think she set you up is all.”

“At any rate, she’s going to help my mom sell her condo, and-“

“Well, she should…she’s a fucking real estate agent. It’s the least she can do.” Harry scratches at Paige’s head like he knows she likes and it helps her calm down more.

“I’ll probably have to hit the road tomorrow to help with the arrangements. He’s had it in his will to be buried out there. God, I’m gonna have to take so much time off work, and all this before Christmas.” Her bottom lip quivers.

“Was it…a nice Thanksgiving at least?”

“It was! He was so much nicer than he usually is. Andy even made him laugh! I suppose it’ll be a nice last memory of him. I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to Andy.”

“He should go with you…to Connecticut. He’ll wanna say goodbye to his Gramp.”

“He’ll be so bored with me running around.”

“He can hang out with his cousins. I’m sure plenty of your family will be coming in for it.”

“Are you okay with him missing so much school?”

“It’s not like he’ll be missing much this time of year. I can talk to him about it tomorrow.” He grabs the blanket on the back of the couch to put over the two of them.

“Thank you for being here last minute. I felt terrible calling Noah the way I did. He could barely understand me, and I just didn’t know what else to do. Hopefully I didn’t wake poor Rachel.”

“This is a big deal, I wouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

“Wait…” She says after a few moments of silence. “If you’re here, where’s Andy?”

“At home.”

“By himself?!”

“No! Y/N’s with him…”

“You called her to have him stay with him?”

“No, she was already there, um, this was her first time staying over on a school night.”

“Harry.” Paige sighs. “You can’t leave your current girlfriend in bed to go be with your ex-girlfriend.”

“Well, I did, and I’ll deal with it later. She said she understood.”

“Of course she did! What was she gonna say, don’t go? She knows she couldn’t say that. Fuck, now she’s gonna hate me.”

“No she won’t. Listen, just try to relax, okay? You’re gonna have a long drive, I’ll be worried enough about you getting there in one piece. I should just go with you.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he thinks it over.

“Nope, no way. My family would eat you alive if you did that. Noah will probably come once the actual funeral date is scheduled. I can drive on my own, I’ll be fine, I’m just still in shock.”

“It’s a lot to process.”

The two end up falling asleep together on the couch. Little did Paige know is that Noah cut his visit with his client short to get home to her, so needless to say he was little annoyed when he walked through the door at the crack of dawn.

“Um…hello?”

Harry and Paige’s eyes snap open and they stand immediately to get away from each other.

“Noah!” Paige’s eyes well up immediately as she walks into his arms. “You’re back so soon?”

“I got on the road as soon as I could. How are you holding up? I see you called Harry…”

“I…well…I didn’t know what else to do, and-“

“Well, I guess I should get home now that he’s back, and I guess Rachel won’t need to come stay with me. Let me know what you wanna do about Andy, okay? I’m gonna tell him he doesn’t need to go to school today either way.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Um, I’ll probably need a couple of hours. I need to speak more with Allie about everything.” She nuzzles into Noah for a moment before letting go of him. “I’m gonna go take a shower, thank you again for coming.” She gives his shoulder a squeeze before going up the stairs.

Harry and Noah share an awkward moment of eye contact.

“I didn’t think you two were still so comfortable together to fall asleep like that.” He says, crossing his arms. “And why would my daughter need to go stay with you?”

“Okay, first of all, we were both exhausted, so pardon us for falling asleep innocently on the sofa. Second of all, we both thought you wouldn’t be home until Wednesday, so I offered to have Rachel come stay with me until you got back. Or would you have preferred her stay here by herself?” Harry looks Noah up and down. “Don’t start with me, mate. She needed someone, and I’m the closest thing she has to family around here.”

“And you just so easily sprang into action?”

“Her father died! What would you have done? Stayed home and not come to comfort her? Give me a fucking break. I’ll chalk this up to you being tired or something because I sure as hell know you’re not accusing me of something.”

“I just think you should worry about your own girlfriend. I don’t think she’d love knowing you slept with Paige.”

“Don’t say it like that, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like Harry?! You could have told her to go back up to bed, and you could have stayed down here or gone home once she got back to sleep, but no, there you were with your arms around her. You’re not gonna get over her.”

“You don’t what you’re talking about.” He shakes his head. “I’m in love with Y/N, not Paige. I…you know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you. She called me, I came here, now you’re here, go make your fiancé feel better instead of worrying about me.” Harry practically spits before leaving in a huff.

You had trouble sleeping in Harry’s bed without him, so you got up early to make a big breakfast because you just didn’t know what else to do. The smell of pancakes filled the house, and it woke Andy up. He was all out of sorts because pancakes were usually a weekend breakfast. He came out of his room and you pouted at how cute he was. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt, no doubt Harry’s, and a pair of joggers, with his blanket wrapped around him.

“What’s going on?” He knuckles at his eyes before sitting down in front of the plate you made for him.’

“Dad had to step out, but he’ll be back soon. You, uh, don’t need to go to school today.”

“Did it snow?”

“No…he’ll explain when he gets back. Just, um, eat your breakfast and then go wash up if you haven’t already, yeah?”

“Okay…thanks for making this.”

“You’re welcome.”

You get comfy on the couch and watch some morning TV while Andy goes to brush his teeth and wash his face. Sister, Sister was on, a perfect distraction. Andy comes over to sit with you, but it was still so early, he just felt groggy, and he looked so adorable with his floppy curls in his face. He grabs one of the throw pillows.

“Could I…?” He gestures to put it in your lap.

“Oh! Yeah, go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He mutters as he gets his head comfy in your lap, and his eyes flutter closed.

You mindlessly play with his hair to keep him comfortable. It was something Harry liked you figured he’d like it too. You felt terrible for him. You didn’t know how close or not close Andy was with his grandfather, but you guessed this would be his first time dealing with a major death in the family. Harry comes in about two episodes into Sister, Sister and you put your finger up to your lips to signal to be quiet. He wants to cry at the sight in front of him. His son feeling so comfortable to cuddle up with you was so sweet. He wished he could do the same, but he needed to wake up a bit more before having the tough conversation with Andy. He sees that you’ve made coffee, and he sees the leftover pancakes and he smiles. Yup, this was exactly where he wanted to be. He sips on some coffee and then comes over to the two of you.

“Andy?” He says softly, rubbing his son’s back. “I need you to wake up, buddy.”

“Y/N said I didn’t need to go to school.” He groans.

“You don’t, but I have to talk to you about something…privately.”

Andy sits up slowly and gives Harry a confused look.

“Where were you?”

“At Mum’s.”

“Why?”

“Can we go talk in your room?”

Andy looks over at you and you nod to go with Harry, so he listens and stands up. Harry puts his hand on Andy’s back and mouths a ‘thank you’ to you. Once they’re both in his room, sitting on his bed, Harry takes a deep breath.

“Mum called me late last night…Noah was in Vermont so she didn’t want to be alone.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Um, well, Gramp…passed away.”

“What?!” Andy’s eyes start to tear up.

“He passed peacefully in his sleep, but Mum didn’t find out until late last night.”

“So, he’s, like, gone?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

“But, he can’t be! I just saw him the other day!”

“I know, these things can happen so suddenly sometimes. I’m really sorry.” Harry pulls Andy into him, and that’s when the waterworks start. Harry holds his son close as he lets Andy process everything.

“Is Mummy okay?” Harry’s eyes widen. He couldn’t remember the last time Andy called Paige ‘Mummy’.

“She will be. She’s gonna go to Connecticut later today to see how she can help Gram and Auntie Allie. Would you like to go with her? The funeral will probably be over the weekend.”

“It’s okay to miss that much school?”

“Of course! It’ll be excused.”

“Yeah, I…I think I would like to go with her.”

“Okay, I’ll let her know. I’m sure she’d like your company for the ride.”

“What about Noah and Rachel.”

“I don’t know what his plan is…I’ll be honest, he’s not happy with me at the moment.”

“Why? You, like, practically came to Mum’s rescue last night.”

“Exactly.” Harry sighs. “He wasn’t supposed to come back until Wednesday, and he came back early this morning to Mum and I asleep on the couch together, so that was a whole thing.”

“You fell asleep with her?” Andy whispers, not that you were listening in. Harry nods at him. “Yikes.”

“Big yikes.” Harry chuckles softly. “Anyways, no school today, or the rest of the week since you wanna go with Mum. I’ll call the school to let them know what’s going on. I need to go cancel my classes for the day, and I need to see what Y/N wants to do. I feel bad she was here alone with you.”

“She made really good pancakes for breakfast, and then she let me hang out with her. Better than any baby sitter.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Harry reaches to stroke Andy’s cheek. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get your things ready? I need to pull your suit from my closet and all that.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna text Brandon to let him know I won’t be at school for a few days, is that alright?”

“Yeah, let him know.”

Harry leaves Andy to do his thing. You were now in the kitchen cleaning up.

“Hey.” He says to you. “I’m really sorry for just leaving you like that last night.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not…I…should have brought you both with me or something, but I feel like I was panicking or something, and-“

“Harry, she needed you. Her father died, I get it.” You turn to look at him. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Andy’s gonna go to Connecticut with her. I need to cancel my classes for the day so I can stay home with him until she’s able to come pick him up.”

“Okay, I’ll…I’ll do the same.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I wanna be there for you, for the both of you. I can post some online assignments. I’m sure the students won’t mind.”

“I…feel like you should know in case it blows up in my face later…um, I slept on the couch with Paige last night.” Your eyebrows shoot up at that. “She sort of latched onto me when I got there, and I was trying to calm her down, and we fell asleep. It was nothing, like we weren’t, I wasn’t spooning her or anything like that, like it was…you know, platonic, and Noah got home and woke us up, and we immediately got away from each other, and she went right to him, and then he got mad at me, and now it’s a whole thing, but it didn’t mean anything, Y/N, I was just trying to-“

“Harry.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “Please, just stop talking, you’re rambling.” You look at him. “You just so easily fell asleep with her?”

“I was exhausted, and so was she. It just happened, I’m sorry.”

“Did you kiss her?”

“What?! No!” He makes a disgusted face.

“Did you call her anymore nice names?”

“Like what?”

“You called her darling last night, and it made me feel…gross.”

“Oh, baby.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I’m so sorry, no, I didn’t call her anymore nice names.”

“Okay.”

“Why would think I kissed her?”

“I don’t know…maybe you kissed her cheek or top of her head or something.”

“I swear I didn’t do that. I just held her to soothe her a little, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything, I was purely there as a friend.”

“Okay.” You sigh. “I’ll email Lucas to let him know both of our classes are cancelled today so he can send one of those text alerts out.”

“You’re not mad?”

“How could I be? Your cuddles could cure cancer, they’re very powerful. I’d want you to hold me too.”

“I…thank you for being so cool about all this. I feel like I’d go bananas if it were reversed.”

“Well, it’s not, so you don’t even have to think about it. Plus, you told me right away about it, and I appreciate you being so honest.” You smile at him. “Please eat something, I left you extra.”

“Thanks, I am kinda hungry.”

A little while later, as you and Harry are both on your laptops in the living room, Andy comes out with all of his things. Harry had texted Paige to let her know Andy wanted to go with her.

“Andy, I’m really sorry for your loss.” You say as he sits down on the love seat.

“Oh, um, thanks.”

The doorbell rings and Harry sighs as he gets up. Paige looks much better, he notices, but she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and she was in sweats.

“Hi.” She says. “Is he ready?”

“Yeah.” Harry looks back. “Andy, come on.”

“Mum…” Andy slowly approaches mother with a quivering lip.

“Hi, baby.”

They throw their arms around each other. You sort of just sit there awkwardly until Paige steps in further and notices you sitting there.

“Y/N! Hi…I didn’t think you’d still…um, never mind. We’ve got a long drive, Andy, let’s get your things in the car.”

“I’ll help with that.” Harry says, and quickly grabs Andy’s things. You stand up.

“I’m so sorry about your father.” You say.

“Thank you.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Andy says, hugging you. “The pancakes were really good.”

“I’m glad liked them.”

“Everything’s in the trunk.” Harry says. “What are Noah and Rachel doing?”

“They’re gonna stay in town until Friday, and then they’ll come to Connecticut for the funeral Saturday.”

“Dad, are you gonna come to the funeral?”

“No.” Paige and Harry say at the same time.

“Um, Dad doesn’t need to go to this, Andy. Noah will be there, though, so that’s good.” She looks at you briefly, and then to Harry. “Could you go get buckled up?” She says to Andy.

“Okay.” He gives Harry a hug before going outside.

“He’s very upset with me…” She says in a whisper.

“Who, Noah?”

“Yes.”

“Your dad just died…”

“I know.” She deadpans. “He wasn’t happy about what he walked into, and even though he’s trying to be sympathetic, he thinks you and I are too codependent sometimes. The co should only apply to the parenting or something, I don’t know.” She blinks some tears away. “He’s never been a jealous man, Harry, I don’t know what his problem is.”

“He probably thinks that if I snapped my fingers you wouldn’t marry him or something. He’ll get over it. A few days apart, and he’ll forget all about me.”

“I just don’t want this to taint how good everything is with all of us. I shouldn’t have let you come over.”

“Don’t say that…don’t let him make you feel worse.”

“Did you tell Y/N what happened?”

“Yeah.”

“And she was okay with it?”

“She…understood. Not something we should make a habit of though.” He smirks and she rolls her eyes.

“Obviously. If his stupid fucking client hadn’t needed an in person consult then we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“Gee, thanks, nice to know I’m always second best.”

“I’m going before I smack you. Goodbye.”

“Safe travels, give my condolences to the family.”

“I will, thanks.” She looks over at you again. “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye, sorry again!”

Harry closes the door and lets a long sigh out before looking at you.

“I need a fucking shower.” You nod at him. “Join me?” You nod again and follow him into his bathroom.

“Noah’s really pissed, huh? I slightly overheard.”

“Hard not to, I suppose.” He strips himself of his clothes and turns the water on as you get rid of your own clothes. “He…and remember this was years ago before they were even together, but he knows about the few times she and I hooked up after we broke up, so I think he thinks that could all easily happen again, but he’s fucking delusional if he thinks I would ever do something like that. I would never let her cheat on him, nor do I have any desire to fuck her, please know that.” He steps into the water and guides you in with him.

“Then why does he think she wants to fuck you? That must clearly be the issue.”

“I swear she doesn’t, but he think I have this, like, spell over her or something, I don’t know.”

“You are dangerously charming.” You smirk.

“Stop it.” He chuckles. “This isn’t new. This tension builds every so often, and then we have these little flare ups. It’s why we don’t hang out a lot, not that we would anyways, but we don’t do a ton of things together unless it involves Andy, rightfully so.”

“Then it’s like you said, he’ll get over it.”

“Exactly. He loves her, he just needs to get over himself. If I had to take any bets I’d say he won’t wait until Friday to go to Connecticut, I’ll bet he’ll get there tomorrow or Thursday.”

“Well, at least Andy’s with her now.”

“Yeah, I’m proud of him for going.” He wraps his arms around your waist. “Now, can we please talk about anything else?”

You smile and wrap your arms around his neck as the warm water cascades over the two of you.

“Why talk at all?”

He smiles and leans in to kiss you. Harry needed some comforting of his own, and if his cuddles could cure cancer, then your kisses could cure just about everything else.

“So…you and Harry both cancelled classes yesterday…” Janette says to you over coffee Wednesday morning at the little shop downtown. She was the physical version of that knowing eyes emoji.

“It’s not what you think…Paige’s father died.”

“Oh my!”

“I know, and it was this whole thing, and I didn’t wanna leave him, so I cancelled also. It’s fine, all my students did their online assignments.” You shrug and take a sip of your warm drink.

“Is Harry alright?”

“Yeah, I think he felt bad more so for Paige. He seems pretty indifferent about Nathan being gone, though. He wasn’t exactly nice to Harry.”

“I definitely get that. In laws can put a lot of strain on a relationship.”

“He spoke to Andy last night when they got there, and he’s doing fine, so that’s all that matters.” You say as you both brave the cold back up to campus. “Men are…jealous creatures.”

“Very territorial. Like a dog with a fire hydrant.”

“It’s a little degrading, isn’t it? To be compared to a fire hydrant?”

“What happened, exactly?”

“He fell asleep with Paige, like I said, it was a whole thing. Anyways, I guess Noah was really upset about it, but I…didn’t care all that much. I feel secure in what we have, but Harry told me if the situation was reversed he would have flipped most likely.”

“If you had fallen asleep with an ex, you mean?”

“Correct.”

“Interesting.”

“I thought I would have been more upset, especially since I know how Harry sleeps. He’s like a koala bear.” You chuckle. “But he assured me nothing like that happened, and I believed him.”

“It’s a good sign he told you straight away.”

“I guess I just don’t fully understand the jealousy. I mean, I don’t exactly love it when she just drops by, but that’s only because I’m never sure what my place is, you know?”

“Harry is a special breed of man, Y/N. He’s extremely attractive, yes, but he’s also a dork. Fucking a ton of girls probably wasn’t in the cards for him, so when he did find a girl to fuck, he latched onto her. A simp, as the kids would say.” She smirks.

“He told me he used to hook up a bit before we met…”

“And he did, but he had these regular girls. He was terrible at a one night stand, he just couldn’t bring himself to fuck a girl and then leave, you know? So he’d be with the same person for about a month and then move on.”

“He is very simp-like, now that I think about it. Like…my water bottle could be on the coffee table, and I could easily get it myself, but I’ll ask him to do it, and he doesn’t even question me, he just happily grabs it and hands it to me.”

“There you go then. He’d do anything to keep you. Noah’s probably the same with Paige. Noah probably knows that he and Harry share this quality, so that’s when things get embarrassingly territorial.” You both enter the building. You had gotten an extra coffee for Harry so you go right to his office.

“Got you a coffee, Har.”

“Oh!” He smiles and stands up to take it from you. “Thank you.” He kisses your cheek. “How is it out there? Nippy today.”

“Very.” Janette says. “Fucking windy. Winter break can’t come soon enough.” She sighs. “I gotta go prep for my next class, I’ll see you both later.”

You take your jacket off and sit on one of his chairs.

“How does soup sound for dinner tonight?” He asks as he comes to sit next you.

“Oh, are we having dinner tonight?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I have a lot of work I need to do tonight, babe.”

“I just thought…um…”

“I know Andy’s gone, but I can’t stay over every night of the week, Harry. I didn’t get anything done over Thanksgiving, I need to buckle back down.”

“But think of all the work you’ll get done when I’m away in London.”

“Don’t do that to me, that’s not fair.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re making me feel guilty for being busy.” You sigh. “I can’t come over tonight, maybe tomorrow, or even Friday?”

“I could come to your place when you’re done working if that’s easier.”

“Harry, I love spending the night with you, and I’ll probably miss you when I go to sleep tonight, but I may not go to bed until after midnight depending how in the middle of things I am, I’m sorry.”

“Alright.” He sighs and takes a sip of his coffee.

“It won’t be like this forever. Just another year or so, and then it’ll be done.”

“And…you’ll stay here? You won’t get your degree and then say see you later?”

“Well, they hired me already, I may not be tenure track, but I’m here for the long haul. I’m here with you for the long haul.”

“Then I think it’s time I gave you something.” He gets up and goes into his bag, and then comes back to you. “Here.” He drops a key into your hand.

“What is this?”

“Spare key to my house.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s silly for you to always ring the bell and wait, and it’s getting colder so…just come in, you know.”

“Harry, this is so sweet, thank you.” You stand up and hug him. “I’ll…I’ll get a spare for my place made for you too.”

“Only if you really want me to have it.”

“I do! I really do. It makes sense on both ends.” You smile. “I love you so much.” You kiss him, but are interrupted by a tap on the door.

“Um…I’m so sorry, I have a meeting with Dr. Styles…”

“That you do, Brooke! Come on in.” Harry says brightly. “Professor Y/L/N.” He nods to you.

“Dr. Styles.” You nod back and giggle to yourself as you close the door behind you.

“Sorry about that, Brooke, we’re here to discuss spring courses, yeah?” Harry asks as he pulls her information up on his computer.

“Yeah! And no worries, it’s sweet that you’re dating, actually. Known you almost four years now, Dr. Styles, I was wondering when you were gonna settle down.”

“You and me both.” He mumbles as he looks over her current courses. “Okay, most important is your senior seminar…”

Thursday night you were pacing around in your apartment in just a large t-shirt, one of Harry’s. You had a highlighter in one hand and a journal article in the other. Harry was being amazing about giving you a little space, you felt sort of bad that he was alone in his house, but he was a big boy, and you were on the verge of a breakthrough. You were getting incredible work down, and you couldn’t afford to not.

The thing you learned about Harry, though, was that not only was he territorial, he was clingy. He was getting his own work done for sure, but he wasn’t under as much pressure as you were. Your PhD wasn’t on the line, he just had different deadlines for his manuscript. You hoped you weren’t putting him through too much by not being as readily available.

“Little too hard there, H.” Andre says as he shakes his hand out.

“Sorry, let’s take a break.”

Harry and Andre would sometimes go to the same boxing gym, and Harry had asked him to go with him since you were busy tonight. They each take their gear off and grab their water bottles.

“Everything alright?” Andre asks him.

“Oh, yeah! Everything’s fine, just miss Andy.”

“How’s he been doing?”

“Right now he’s fine because he’s getting to see a lot of his family that he doesn’t normally get to. Saturday will be rough probably, but he’ll be okay I think.”

“Can I ask…why aren’t you with Y/N right now? If I were a single parent I’d be jumping at the chance to be alone with my girlfriend.”

“I thought she would too, but you know how it is when you’re doing thesis work. She didn’t want to change up her routine and not get some work done. I’m hoping when I go to London she’ll get a fuck ton done so she can take a little break. I wanna invite her to the cabin for Andy’s February break.”

“So…she’s invited to that, but not to London?”

“Way too soon for that.” Harry says. “It’s only been five months. I did just give her a key to my place, though, and she gave me one to hers, so that’s nice.”

“I think you’re just scared to have her meet your mumma.” Andre smirks.

“Leave my mum outta this.” He says warningly. “That’s not it at all. Three weeks is a long time to spend alone with someone in a foreign country.”

“Fair point. She’d have no escape when she realizes you’re a twat.”

“Oi!”

“Come on, I’ve caught a second wind, let’s punch the bag for a bit.”

“Happy Friday.” You say to Harry Friday morning when you see he’s in.

“Morning, babe.” He smiles and gestures for you to come in. He gives you a kiss on the cheek.

“Do anything fun last night?”

“I went to the gym with Andre.”

“Oh good! Did a little boxing?” You get into a fighting stance and pretend to jab at Harry which makes him laugh.

“Yeah.” He grabs your wrists to get you to stop. “That’s enough of that.”

“What’s wrong? Don’t want me to beat your ass up?” You giggle.

“You’re in a particularly chipper mood for someone who hasn’t had much sleep.”

Perhaps to help yourself get to sleep you used your favorite purple item to tire yourself out, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Just happy to see you, now let me go.” He releases your wrists. “Do you feel like grabbing a bite to eat tonight?”

“Like a date?” He perks up.

“No, I mean hanging out as friends, why would we go on a date?” You furrow your brows and gasp. “Harry, do you like me?”

“You’re the least funny person I’ve ever fucking met.” He chuckles.

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re an idiot.” He smiles and shakes his head.

“Okay, okay, yes, like a date. I feel bad that I was busy these last couple of days, I thought it might be fun to actually go out for dinner. Give you a break from cooking.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice, actually. Where do you feel like going?”

“Thai?”

“Oh, excellent idea. Could definitely go for some drunken noodles. Let’s make it like a real date, I’ll pick you up at your place and everything.”

“Does seven work?”

“It’s perfect.”

You blow him a kiss and leave his office. Harry was absolutely feral, he didn’t know if he was going to last all day and evening without getting you naked, but he was up for the challenge.

Harry wanted to kill you when he saw you walk out the door of your apartment building. You were wearing this long coat, but you had heels on, and you were wearing red lipstick. How the fuck was he supposed to get through his meal. You smile at him while he opens the car door for you.

When you get to the restaurant and get seated, he wanted to kill you again. A red dress to match your red lipstick.

“You’re staring.” You say as you look over the menu, and then look up at him through your lashes.

“You just look really nice, is all.”

“I do? I just threw this look together. Thank you.”

“Right.”

“You were thinking of the drunken noodle, yeah? I might do that too.”

“Wanna split that and some sushi.”

“Sure.”

You each order a cocktail with dinner and Harry gets distracted watching your lips move around the straw each time you take a sip. Not only that, but your lipstick ends up smearing onto your chopsticks. You both chat about how your weeks went, and what you were planning for finals.

“How’s your actual paper coming?”

“Good! My references page grows every day. I’ve got twenty pages written so far, but I have to edit what I have so it’ll be like ten when I’m done. It’s awfully frustrating.”

“Any time you want me to look something over for you I’m happy to.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Lisa’s been looking things over for me. She’s really happy with my work.”

“Why wouldn’t she be, you’re brilliant.” He reaches across the table and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Thought I was an idiot.” You pout.

“I was teasing.” He rolls his eyes.

You hum your response just as your entrees come to the table. The drunken noodle didn’t not disappoint, and neither did your second drink. Once dinner is through, and Harry pays (even though you nearly lunged across the table for the check), you head out to his car. He hands you a mint to suck on and he pops one into his mouth. When he pulls up to your building, he parks, and turns the car off. He unbuckles and so do you, but you stop him from opening the door. He looks at you confused, but you grin, and get your fist around the collar of his jacket and yank him towards you, slotting your mouth over his. It was probably too cold to be making out in the car, but Harry was too busy feeling dizzy from your kiss to care. You suck on his tongue, tasting the mint he had been sucking on. Your hands go to his hair, messing it up completely. Your tongue drags from his jaw to his neck, and then you bite down.

“Can’t leave a mark there.” He grunts, but doesn’t pull you away.

“You’re absolutely right, sorry.” You wipe the corners of your mouth. “Let’s go inside.”

Harry nods and gets out of the car, jogging around the other side to open your door. Once you’re inside your place, and your coats are off, you’re on him. You take him by surprise, pressing him up against the wall right outside your bedroom. You suck on his bottom lip as you unbutton his shirt. You leave kiss marks from your lipstick down his stomach. You undo his belt and get his pants to drop to the floor. You get into a ski-squat position to kiss his growing bulge over his boxers.

“Y/N, please.” He breathes.

“You tease all the time.” You look up at him. “Why can’t I?”

“Because…”

“What’s that?” You stand up fully. “Can’t find a good enough reason?” Harry swallows hard as you look him up and down.

“I’m a bit tongue tied at the moment.”

“Don’t tell me after all this time that I still make you nervous, Harry.” Your lips ghost the shell of his ear as your hand slides down his body, palming him through his boxers.

“Who said you made me nervous, ngh, in the first place?” You step back and give him a look. “Okay, you used to make me a little nervous, but that was only because my feelings for you caught me off guard. If I had time to get ahead of it, you would have been the nervous one.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Harry kicks his jeans away, and dips down to lift you over his shoulder. You squeal and giggle as he carries you into your bedroom. You loved when you could rile him up like this. Just as there were times you wanted to make all the decisions for him, you liked it just as much as when he made all the decisions. After the week you had of research and writing, you just wanted to be taken care of. That’s why you wore the dress, and that’s why you wore the lipstick. You knew it would work him up all night.

“What are you gonna do to me, Harry?” You ask innocently once he’s gotten you on the bed.

“What do you want me to do?” He asks as he shrugs his shirt the rest of the way off and sets his glasses down.

“I want…you to do whatever you want.”

“You sure wanna give me the full reigns like that? Because I would love to-“

“You’re not fucking my ass.”

“Ever?”

“I’ll tell you what, I get to do you first. You should have to feel what it’s like, and if it doesn’t hurt, then you can do me.”

“Okay.” He shrugs.

“Okay?!”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to fuck your ass?!”

“If it means I get to fuck yours, I’ll even let you tie me up when you do it.”

“Oh…well, that’s actually pretty tempting.” You look off as if to think about it. “A conversation for another time, though. For now…just do whatever else.”

“Okay.” He knees onto the bed and hovers over you, kissing you tenderly. “I’m gonna fuck you with these heels on.” You giggle at him. “With just these heels on.”

The best kind of shiver goes up your spine and you bite your bottom lip. You get off the bed and stand so he can unzip your dress. Harry slowly drags the zipper down, and kisses on your neck and shoulder. Your dress drops to the floor and you smirk as you turn around.

“What…the…” His eyes nearly pop out of his head.

He thought you were simply wearing black nylons, but you had actually worn thigh high stockings attached to a garter belt. You had a pair of black lace panties and a bra to match.

“Do you like it?”

“You’ve been spoiling me with all these little outfits.” He hands go to your hips. “You look so incredibly sexy, Y/N. How’d I get so lucky, hm?”

“I ask myself the same question all the time, Harry.”

His hands slide up your back as your mouths reconnect. He unhooks your bra and tosses it somewhere before getting you back on the bed. He kisses on your neck while his palms rub over your breasts, getting your nipples to pebble. He tweaks them a bit before working his mouth down to nip and suck. He practically slobbers all over you, but you don’t care at all, his mouth on you feels too good. You realize he’s giving you a hickey right on your nipple and you groan.

Harry works his way down your body, biting at the parts of the garter that were attached to your stockings. He tugs it all the way off, leaving you in the lace panties, stockings and heels. He licks his lips before kissing you through the lace.

“H-Harry, please.”

“Just wanted to see how wet you were.” He smirks and tugs the panties down your legs. “Good now?”

“Mhm, thank you.”

He opens your legs and blows softly on the area before licking the flat of his tongue up your center. He had you right where he wanted you, so he stops and you look up at him.

“Get on your stomach for me.” He says. You furrow your brows in confusion but you do as he says. You start to get on your hands and knees, but he stops you. “Nope, just stay flat on your stomach, babe.”

“Okay.” You rest your chin on your folded arms.

Harry sits on his calves next to you and starts running his hands over your ass. You fucked up when you told him he could do whatever he wanted because now he was just going to take his sweet time with you. His hand slips between your cheeks and he rubs around your folds. You take a deep breath as he daintily plays with you. He would take his hand away and your body would arch to chase after him. He was getting you wetter with each touch. His middle finger slides inside you and just as soon he slides it out. You look over at him and see the slight smirk on his face as he looks at his now sticky finger. He does it again and again, and then he slides two fingers inside you.

“Harry.” You whine.

“You’ve been stressed, I want you to relax.” He says as he slowly fingers you. It was agonizing, but it felt good the deeper he would go.

He slides his fingers back out and drags all of the wetness up to your other hole, and then he slides back inside, nice and deep. He shifts himself a little so he could still finger you, but his other hand had a grip on one of your ass cheeks so he could see what he was doing better. He brings his mouth down to nip at your plush skin, and then his tongue slides over your hole. You grit your teeth from the sensation. In the five months you’ve been intimate with Harry this aspect of things still surprised you. You welcomed it because he knew what he was doing and it made you feel really good, but it was still surprising nonetheless. You squeeze around his fingers and start grinding against him and the bed. You start breathing heavier, and you feel your orgasm bubbling up. He feels it too, so he pulls his mouth and fingers from you.

“Harry, please don’t edge me tonight, come on.”

“For someone that wants me to be in charge you sure like telling me what to do.” He smirks down at you, and smooth some hair away from your face. “If you wanted it quick why didn’t you just fuck me instead?”

“I…I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna make you wait for long. Just…humor me, yeah?”

“Okay.”

He smiles and goes to sit up against your headboard. He opens his legs and looks at you.

“Come sit in front of me.”

You sit up and do just that. He uses his legs to hook over yours to keep yours open. You welcome the weight of his on yours. He didn’t want you to be able to clamp together, this you were sure of. He makes a fist with your hair and wraps it around his wrist to move your head how he wants. He tilts your head so you’ll look at him, and he leans in to kiss you. Just as his tongue meets yours, his other hand travels down your body, giving your breast a nice squeeze before getting to your clit. You gasp into his mouth. His lips don’t leave yours even though you’re practically breathing him in and out. His fingers go between your folds, gathering all you’ll give him, and then back to your clit to rub circles into you. You hook an arm up around his head to tug at his hair, and your other hand digs into his thigh. He loved when he could get you like this, just totally at his mercy.

“H-Harry.” You mumble against his lips. He sucks on your bottom lip as two of his fingers slip inside you while his thumb stays on your clit. “Fuck.” You breathe.

You were getting close again, and you wanted to close your legs desperately, but his were stronger, so he keeps you in place. He does let you grind against him, though, so you’re grateful. His curled fingers were petting perfectly against your spongey front wall. You could feel how swollen your lips were getting from him continuously kissing you.

“Oh…oh my god.” You moan.

“Yeah? Feel it coming?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open just for a moment, and you see him waiting for you to finish your statement. “Harry.”

“I want you to feel so good, come for me, Y/N.” He says as his lips ghost against yours.

“Shit, H-Harry.” You were squeezing around his fingers again. “Feels amazing.”

“Let go, Y/N.” He bites at your lower lip again and starts rubbing your clit furiously.

“Oh, fuck!” You start panting against him and then you lose it. Your head rolls back against his shoulder and your back arches. Your nails press crescents into his thigh. He rubs gentler as you come down from your high and catch your breath. He presses kisses to your cheek and neck.

“Wasn’t so bad was it?” He whispers into your ear, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body. “Waiting just a little bit?”

“No, it was fine.” You crane your neck to look at him. “You just like to play too damn much.” You smirk, and it makes him laugh into your neck. “Will you fuck me now?”

“Yes, baby.”

He lets you settle comfortably onto your back as he gets his boxers off, and a condom on. He gets on top of you and slides in, a sigh of relief leaving your lips. You hold him close to you, wrapping your arms and legs around him, your chests rubbing against each other. He rocks in and out of you as you hold his head to your neck. He sucks on your skin, overwhelming all of your senses. You start feeling your eyes burn with tears, and you try to blink them away. Oh no, you think to yourself. He kisses up your cheek and feels the wetness from the tears, and stops altogether to look at you, cradling your cheeks his hands.

“What’s happening, am I hurting you?!”

“No! I…” You start laughing as you cry. “I just feel really good.”

“So you’re crying?!”

“It happens sometimes. I can’t really control it…it’ll stop on its own.”

“Fucking scared me.” He chuckles and wipes his thumbs under your eyes. “You…you look like a raccoon.” He bursts into a heavier laugh and so do you.

“Good, can’t wait to see how fucked up I look when we’re done.”

You did look awfully fucked up, and you washed your face accordingly before getting into bed with Harry. He wraps himself around you, and you almost feel high from how cared for he makes you feel. He was like the teddy bear you always wished you had growing up. Harry came with a lot of baggage, more than you really thought, but then again you only knew so much about him when you were just friends. Sometimes it scared you to basically be stepping into a motherly role for Andy when you had no idea how to be a mom. You babysat when you were younger, and that’s all you really had to base watching him on. But times like these, when Harry was holding onto you like his life depended on it, you really felt like none of it mattered. You’d take being a little scared of the unknown over being without him completely any day. You were happy that you were friends for a while before you got together, but knowing what you know now, and how happy he made you…perhaps you would have been less stingy about your feelings towards dating a colleague.

Sunday evening you were cooking dinner with Harry at his place. He had let you be Saturday so you could get some chores done, and so you could work, which you greatly appreciated. He did, however, ask you to spend the night Sunday because he wanted you there when Andy got back from Connecticut. The conversation they had on the phone Saturday after the funeral was rough, and Harry didn’t know if he could handle Andy being so emotional alone.

Just as you were getting the casserole you were making into the oven, you both hear the front door open. Andy looked exhausted, as did Paige. He perks up a bit when he sees you with Harry.

“Hi.” He says shyly. “I’ll come out in a minute, I just wanna put my stuff away.” He says and goes to his room.

“How was it?” Harry asks Paige as she steps further into the home.

“Rough…I…can’t believe I really had to say goodbye to my dad, you know?”

“I’m so sorry.” You say.

“Thank you.” She swallows. “Um, my mom is in the car, so I can’t stay long. She’s going to move in with us…which was a super fun conversation to have. Allie is taking care of her condo, and we were able to pack most of her essentials while we were there.”

“If there’s anything I can do…” Harry says.

“I know, I’ll let you know, thank you.”

“How is she holding up…your mom?” You ask.

“As good as she can. I think she’s still processing everything, she’s been stoic during the day, but I’ve heard her cry at night. I’m glad she’ll be with all of us. Noah was a huge help in keeping her distracted. He actually ended up coming with Rachel on Thursday.”

Harry looks at you quickly, and then back at Paige.

“I figured he would. Is everything fine with you two?”

“Water under the bridge…he also…feels bad for how he spoke to you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Anyways, Christmas will definitely be interesting this year, but we’ll all get through it together. There are some things I need to meet with you about…some stuff in my dad’s will you need to know about. Would you be able to meet for lunch or something this week?”

“Sure.” Harry takes out his phone to look at his planner. “I’ve got time Wednesday if that works for you.”

“Wednesday works. I’m gonna be working from home for a bit to get my mom settled, so I’ll be able to meet you easily.”

“Alright.”

Andy comes back out with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m gonna get going, honey.”

“Okay.” He gives his mom a big hug. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She waves off to Harry and you before leaving.

Andy looks at the door for a few moments and then turns to look at Harry. His eyes well up, and his bottom lip quivers.

“Come here.” Harry says softly, and Andy throws himself into Harry’s arms. “I know, you’ve been through a lot.”

You come over to the two of them to rub Andy’s back, and it helps him breathe easier.

“You’re really brave, Andy. You did a good thing by going with your mum.” You tell him.

“If you wanna take another day off from school you can.” Harry tells him.

“No, that’s okay.” Andy sniffles and looks up at the two of you. “I miss my friends, and I just wanna get back into my routine.” He steps away from Harry and wipes his eyes. “Can I go call Brandon?”

“Sure, dinner will be ready in an hour if you feel hungry.”

“Okay.” Andy looks at you. “Are you staying the night?”

“I’ve been invited to, yes.”

“Good.” He smiles. “I like it when you’re here.”

Your heart nearly bursts as he walks down the hall to his room. Harry kisses your cheek and goes back into the kitchen.

“How are you doing, are you okay?” Brandon asks Andy over the phone.

“I’m doing better now…yesterday was the worst. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom cry so much. Noah helped her calm down, but…”

“But what?”

“Well, it’s weird, I’ve seen my mom cry before, and my dad is usually the one that can get her stop completely.”

“Your dad is so chill, it’s probably just his entire vibe, you know?”

“I wish he had been there.”

“Why didn’t he go?”

“I don’t really know. I guess my mom’s side of the family doesn’t exactly love him, but I don’t know why. She has to meet with him later this week to talk about something my Gramp left behind. No one tells me anything, though.”

“Did you get to see your cousins at least?”

“Yeah! It was so weird, like, people were laughing and having fun every day until Saturday hit. Then it all got real. I was looking at a ton of pictures of my Gramp from when he was young, and I sort of look like him…in the nose.”

“I was gonna say, you look just like your dad.” Brandon giggles. “It’s the hair.” Andy giggles too.

“That’s another reason why I wished he was there. My mom never gets the mousse right, only my dad really knows how to put it in.”

“Is that you get those really curly curls?”

“Yup.”

“Did you have to wear a suit?”

“Yeah, but I need a new one, I’m getting too tall for this one.”

“You’re gonna be a giant, Andy.”

“Last time I saw my doctor, she told me I was probably going to be six feet!”

“Holy shit!”

“I know!”

“So…you’re gonna be back in school tomorrow?”

“Yeah, did you get all my homework for me?”

“Mhm, it’s in my locker, and I took notes for you too.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. It was really boring while you were gone…I…you know, I missed you.”

Andy could feel his cheeks heating up.

“I missed you too.” He says softly. “Um, maybe you could come over sometime this week. I’m sure I’ll need help catching up.”

“Yeah! Hey…you missed when we talked about bus buddies for winter program, and…well…you’ll be mine again this year, right?”

“Who else would I sit next to?” Andy laughs. “Of course.”

“Okay cool, just wanted to make sure.”

The oven goes off and you take the casserole out. Harry takes a big whiff and hums in adoration. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your neck.

“Smells so good, babe. Thank you for putting this together.”

“Oh, it was no problem.”

“Ahem.” Andy says, smirking at the two of you. “You could save that for your room, you know?” He says as he sits down at the table.

“It’s just a hug.” Harry rolls his eyes, and cuts up the casserole as you get the plates.

“Right.”

“How’s Brandon?” You ask, trying to change the subject. You set a plate down in front of Andy and he thanks you.

“He’s good…he asked me to be his bus buddy for winter program again this year.”

“That’s good.” Harry says as he sits down.

“And he got all my homework for me and took extra notes. I told me we could hang out after school at some point this week, would that be okay?”

“Sure.” Harry shrugs. “I could bring you both to school so you could get your homework done.”

“No, I’d rather hang out here if that’s alright.”

“Okay, just pick a night and let me know so I can make something good for dinner.” Harry smiles.

Andy chews on his inner cheek, having not taken a bite of dinner yet.

“Andy…I can make you something else if you’re not into the casserole.” You say.

“It’s not that…my stomach just feels weird.”

“Weird how?” Harry asks. “Do you think you caught a bug or something?”

“No…I…feel, like, nervous? I can’t really describe it.”

“Nervous about what?” You ask softly.

Andy looks at you and goes to speak, but then he looks at his dad, and decides to take a bite of food instead.

“This is good, Y/N, thanks for making it.”

You and Harry look at each other. You know it’s best not to pry, so you let Andy sit there and eat. After dinner is cleaned up, Harry goes to take a shower since he didn’t have time earlier.

“Y/N?” Andy says to you shyly.

“Yeah?”

“Um…you’ve never seen my room before, would you like to?”

“Sure! I’d be honored.” You smile and walk down the hall with him. He shows you everything and you look around. “This is a really nice space, Andy.” You note the Ariana Grande poster on the wall. He also has a smaller poster of Michael Che and Colin Jost. “Do you watch SNL?”

“Sometimes Dad lets me watch reruns, yeah.” He looks over at his poster. “They’re both really funny, even if I don’t always get it.”

“Yeah.” You smile. “My dad used to tape SNL so we could watch it at as a family on Sundays. Then he could fast forward the more adult content.” You chuckle. “And you like Ari?” You point to the other poster.

“Her voice is pretty.” He mumbles.

“I think so too. She’s very talented.”

“Dad said he’d take me to see her next time she tours…but he doesn’t really like her music.”

“Well, luckily for you I do, so I’ll just go with you.”

“Really?!”

“Sure.” You shrug.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever feel nervous around my dad?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…how did you put it one time? Butterflies, can butterflies feel like being nervous?”

“Sometimes.” You sigh with a smile. “Yeah, your dad gives me butterflies a lot.”

“Does it ever feel scary?”

“It did at first, but now I welcome it. Is that the type of nervous you’re feeling?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He starts sniffling and you’re not sure what to do.

“Can I sit next to you?” He nods yes and you sit next to him on his bed. “Would you like a hug?” You didn’t want to just touch him without asking. He nods again, and you put your arm around him. He leans into you. “Is this because Brandon told you he missed you?”

“I just wasn’t expecting him to say that. I told him I missed him too. He said school was boring without me. I…he makes me feel this way a lot, and it keeps happening more and more, but I don’t really know why.”

“You two are just really close, it’s okay.”

“Did my dad give you butterflies before you got together?”

“He made me feel nervous, yeah. Like…I guess I wasn’t putting two and two together much when he would say or do certain things. I had a feeling he might like me, but it took me some more time to realize I liked him too.”

“You know how I knew he liked you?” He looks up at you with a smile.

“How?” You smile down at him.

“He started talking about you a lot at dinner. At first he’d say my friend said something funny today, or on Sunday nights he’d tell me he went out with his new friend, or how smart his new friend was during game night. Then he started using your name, and anytime I’d ask him about you he’d, like, smile before answering. It was obvious.” He rolls his eyes. “Then when you came on that hike with us…I had never seen him so…”

“Rigid?”

“Yeah! Good thing I was there, or he never would have invited you to my party.” He scoffs.

“Yeah, good thing.” You give his shoulder a squeeze. “Andy…you have a lot of time to figure out how you’re feeling about things and people. Middle school is a really confusing time, but I want you to know whatever you’re feeling is totally valid, and I’m happy to talk any time, okay?”

“Okay, thanks.” He smiles at you, and you share a hug before you get up. “I’m gonna read and then go to bed.”

“Alright, I’ll let your dad know, sweet dreams.”

You come out to the living room to find Harry watching TV. You plop down next to him and sigh.

“That was cute.” He says to you without looking at you.

“What?”

“The chat you just had with him.” He looks at you now with a smile.

“How did you…?”

“I popped my head in for a second while you were sitting with him. I didn’t want to disturb the moment so I walked away quickly.”

“I think he has a crush on Brandon. He has butterflies when he talks to him, and judging by what Brandon said to him, I could see Brandon maybe having a crush too.”

Harry sighs and nods.

“I…I’m petrified of him getting his heart broken this young.” He runs his hands over his face. “I’m almost hoping it’s reciprocated.”

“I think we’re all hoping it is.” You give his thigh a squeeze and snuggle into his side. “What are we watching?”

Harry was really nervous to ask you the question he had been avoiding all day, but he was getting down to the wire, and he needed to rip the band aid. It was Wednesday, and Harry was supposed to meet Paige, but she couldn’t get away from her mother for lunch. She had some time in the late afternoon, though.

“Y/N?” Harry taps on your door frame and you smile at him.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“Could I ask a huge favor of you?”

“What do you need?”

“Would you be able to pick Andy from school? I can call them and let them know you’re safe for him to go with. I…wasn’t able to meet Paige for lunch, but she has time in a bit, so-“

“What time?”

“He gets out at 2:30…”

“Sure, I could do that. My last class ends at two.”

“God, you’re a lifesaver. I’m sorry if this messes with your afternoon.”

“It doesn’t. Do you want me to get something started for dinner or help him get started with his homework?”

“No, that’s alright. Oh, shit.” He groans.

“What?”

“Brandon’s supposed to come over after school, fuck.”

“Harry, I can get them both home. I can just work up in your loft, right?”

“You really don’t mind?”

“Of course not.”

Harry’s entire body relaxes and he comes over to you. He tilts your chin up so he can lean down to give you a steamy kiss.

“I love you so much, thank you.”

“You’re, um, you’re welcome.” You mouth feels dry all of a sudden. He kisses you again before you can get a sip of water.

“I’m gonna call the school and text Andy. I have to go in a minute, thank you, Y/N, seriously.”

You nod as he steps out of your office. It made you sad sometimes because Harry really was doing the single dad thing, and you knew it wore in him at times. You wanted to help alleviate things as much as could.

“I’m so sorry about lunch, my mom was insisting on coming for the conversation, and I just didn’t wanna put you through that.” Paige says when they sit down at a coffee shop that was a midway point between their homes.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Y/N’s picking Andy up from school?” Harry nods at her. “Good.” She swallows. “So…basically…my father put you in his will.”

“What?!” She slides some documents for him to read. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know exactly. He last updated it three years ago, and he left all these personal letters with it. This one was for you…take your time to read it.”

Harry takes the envelope and opens it. His eyes widen when he sees the pristine calligraphy:

Harry,

I know I haven’t always been the best father in law, or whatever I’m considered to be since you and Paige never married. Looking back on it, I know Lydia and I could have handled things better with you. I’ve had some time to reflect, and I know money can’t buy love, but I hope you’ll accept this as some form of an apology. Thanks to you, I have a grandson, and he’s one hell of one. I’ve loved watching him grow, and every day I’m thankful you didn’t just pack up and try to take him to London with you. I’m leaving him some money as well, mostly a trust fund that can be used for when goes to college. He can access it when he’s eighteen. My wish is for him to go to whatever college he wants, and not have to worry about the finances. The money I’m leaving you, however, is to be set aside for a rainy day. I trust Paige with what will be left to her, but I need to know you have something just in case she ever runs into any trouble. I know she can take care of herself, but I know if she ever had a problem she’d go to you first. I know she’s met someone new, but she still speaks of you so fondly. I’m glad you two have worked things out the way you have, even if I don’t always express it. That’s more so for Lydia’s sake. You know what they say: Happy Wife, Happy Life.

All my love,

Nathan

Harry was speechless, and teary eyed. He had no idea Nathan had been harboring such kindness. Why not pull him aside some time and just talk man to man? The last time Harry saw him was at Andy’s eleventh birthday party, and now he was just riddled with guilt for sort of being a dick. Maybe if he had made more of an effort to speak with him they could have had this conversation.

“Wow, uh…”

“His note to me made me speechless too.” Paige says. “I think…I think he knew he had developed a heart condition, and kept it to himself so we wouldn’t be worried. He always said being the father of two girls made him want to be our superman, so…”

“So he kept his ailments to himself.” Harry sighs with understanding.

“Course I was closer with him than Allie, but I feel like that happens with any youngest kid.”

“You were very precious to him. You could tell. Allie isn’t close with your mother either, to be fair.”

“Can you blame her? Who would want to be close to such a shrill woman?” Paige scoffs. “God, and now she’s living with me.” She groans. “At least she has her own area of the home.”

“Paige…you need to make sure you set some boundaries. This is your home that she’s living in now, you get to make the rules.”

“I’m terrible at doing that though.” She pouts. “And Noah doesn’t wanna make waves with her either, even though she loves him. You’re way better at laying down the law. You never had a problem standing up to her.”

“Because I had nothing to lose.” He smirks. “What could she say to me?”

“Very true.” She chuckles. “Anyways, the lawyers are going to be cutting all of the checks soon. Since it’s an inheritance you shouldn’t have to worry about it getting taxed as income, and the check will be mailed directly to your house. The money for Andy will stay in the trust fund he set up.”

“Right, okay, all that sounds good. I mean, I know we both put away for his college fund, but it’s nice to know we have some extra cushion for it.”

“Yeah, definitely.” She sighs.

“it’ll get easier, Paige.”

“I know…” She looks away for a moment. “I just feel terrible that he’s not going to get to walk me down the aisle.”

“Maybe Andy could do it.”

“No, I want him to walk my mom down.” She looks at Harry. “It doesn’t matter right now, anyways. It’s months away.”

“This summer, right?”

“Mhm…you got our save the date?”

“I did.” He nods.

“She’s invited too…Y/N…I’m assuming she’ll be your plus one.”

“Oh, do I get a plus one? Here I was thinking I’d go stag and try to get in good with one of your lovely cousins.”

“Harry!” She smacks his hand playfully. “Don’t even joke.” She rolls her eyes.

“In all seriousness, you really don’t think it’ll be weird with me there?”

“No, I want you there…everyone does. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not necessarily.” He shrugs. “I want you to marry Noah. I just know other people are going to think it’s weird because they don’t understand how we all are.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

Meanwhile…

You get to the middle school precisely at 2:30PM. You weren’t sure if Andy remembered what your car looked like, so you decide to stand outside of it, and lean against the passenger door. It was a bitterly cold day, clouds covering the sun, but you don’t mind it. Slowly but surely you start to see kids trickle out. Lines going out to buses, and other kids meeting parents at their cars. Andy and Brandon come out all bundled up. You wave at them and they hustle over faster.

“Hi, boys!” You say brightly as you all get into your warm car. “How was school?”

“Good.” They say at the same time.

“Y/N, how come Dad couldn’t come get us?”

“What am I, chopped liver?” You scoff and it makes them both laugh.

“No…just wondering.”

“He had to go meet your mum to chat about some stuff. They were supposed to meet for lunch, but this time worked better so I’ll be taking you home and hanging out. Anything in particular you boys want for dinner?”

“Can we have pizza?”

“Nice try.” You look at them through the rearview mirror. “Dad bought plenty of groceries on Sunday, we’ll be eating in.”

“I thought you said she was fun?” Brandon whispers to Andy.

“She is.” He whispers back and you smile to yourself.

You get the boys inside, and they practically race to Andy’s room. You fix them with a snack of cheese and crackers, and then go up to Harry’s loft. You didn’t go up there often because it was his work space, but you needed the extra quiet. His setup was great. He had an extra docking station so he could just plug his computer in and use two screens. All you had at home was an HDMI and a spare monitor. Your eyes widen when you see he’s added a new photo to his desk. He had a lot of family photos on the walls up here, ones of him and his mum and sister. Ones of his nieces and nephews, quite a few of Andy. Your favorite was the picture of him holding Andy skin to skin when he was first born. But the new one sitting on his desk was of the two of you. He must have just gotten it printed because it was from Thanksgiving. Phil had taken a nice picture of the two of you while you were still at his place.

“God, he’s so sweet.” You pout at the photo and shake your head. Focus, Y/N.

After two hours you decide your eyes and wrists need a rest. You go down to Andy’s room and clear your throat to get their attention. Brandon was sitting on Andy’s bed with a notebook and textbook open, and Andy was sat at his desk.

“You’re still doing homework?”

“Sixth grade is heavy, Y/N.” Andy says.

“Yikes.” You chuckle. “Well, have you decided what you’d like for dinner?”

“Tacos?”

“Sure, I could make tacos.” You nod. “I know your dad got everything for that, and I bet he’ll like it for dinner too.”

“Do you need help?” Brandon asks.

“I can handle it, but thank you very much for offering.” You smile. “When you finish your homework feel free to go play some video games or watch TV.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Andy smiles and turns back to his studies.

You nod and make your way to the kitchen. You were wondering when Harry would be home exactly. You didn’t think his conversation would take as long as it was. You knew you needed to make some ground beef for the boys, so you get that started first, and then you get the black bean crumbles together for you and Harry. The rest is pretty easy, you just needed to put out all of the fixings. Due to the sizzling of the meat in the pan you don’t even hear the front door open.

“Mm, smells like tacos in here!” Harry chimes as he takes his coat off. He comes over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “You’re an angel you know that?”

“It’s just ground beef and taco seasoning.” You giggle as he plants kisses to your cheek before letting you go.

“No, it’s more than that. Thank you so much for getting them. What are they up to?”

“Finishing homework, I told them they could play video games when they were done, but dinner’s almost ready, so maybe that’ll be an after dinner thing.” You shrug.

“I’m gonna go say hi to them.”

You nod and watch Harry walk down the hall.

“Hi, boys.”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hi, Mr. Styles.”

They were both sitting on Andy’s bed, looking at something on Brandon’s smart phone.

“Dinner’s just about ready, why don’t you both wash up and then come to the table?”

The boys get up and go into the bathroom to wash their hands. Harry comes out to you putting everything on the table.

“Smell so good, babe, thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.” You smile.

The boys scarf their food down at dinner so they can play their video games. You and Harry don’t mind, it gave you a chance to have some adult conversation at the table. He tells you about the money Nathan has left him to put away, and he tells you about the letter he had left for him.

“That’s incredible.”

“I know, I’m still in shock, honestly.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Okay, I guess. It’s a really big change, you know? Losing a parent, and then having the other one move in with you. Her relationship with her mum is so strained, but maybe it’ll get better with them having to be around each other so much. That’s my hope anyways. Lydia can be such a…” He looks over at the boys and then back to you, whispering, “bitch.”

You nearly choke on your food from laughing. Harry cleans up the dishes since you cooked, and you go sit on the couch to watch the boys play Mario Kart.

“B, do I need to bring you home, or is Dad coming for you?”

“Dad’s coming around seven, Mr. Styles.”

Harry looks at his watch and sees that it’s quarter of seven.

“Did you get all your homework done?” He asks.

“Yes.” They both say at the same time.

Brandon’s dad comes to get him at seven, and he gives Andy a hug goodbye, and thanks everyone for having him.

“He’s so polite.” You say.

“Yeah, I’m really glad Andy is friends with him. Nice to have a good kid around him, you know?” Everyone goes back to the couch. “An hour of TV, then I want you in bed with a book, buddy.”

“Okay.” Andy says as he gets cozy on the loveseat.

Harry gets up a couple of time while the two of you watch TV after Andy goes to bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I just wanna see if he’s asleep yet, and he is. Totally zonked out now.” He grins at you.

“And?”

“So…” He nods towards his bedroom door.

“Oh!” You grin and get up. “You don’t think he’ll hear anything?” You whisper.

“Nah, he sleeps with music on.” Harry says as he closes and locks his door. “But locking the door can’t hurt for the time being.” He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. “Missed you today.”

“Missed you too.” You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him.

“I wanna treat you. You were so good to me today, good to them.”

“Harry…I don’t need anything special for doing the bare minimum. I’m your girlfriend, and you have a kid, what I did today is just part of it.” You shrug.

“Even still.” He kisses you. “I wanna make you feel good.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “No teasing, I promise.”

“Okay.”

You strip yourself of your clothes and lay down on his bed. He strips down to his boxers and hovers over you, taking the time to lick into your mouth, to kiss you like he needed to. He’s wanted your tongue on his all day. Kissing you alone really did just make him feel good. It made him feel fuzzy all over, and he loved it. He trails his mouth down your body, not spending too much time on your breasts, but enough. He really didn’t want to make you wait that long this time. He parts your legs and kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, leaving a couple of love bites behind that had you squirming.

He sucks two of his fingers into his mouth and then brings them down to your center, pushing inside and twisting. He watches as your eyes roll back, then you prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him. He pumps in and out of you twisting his fingers each time. He sits up slightly, getting one of your legs over his shoulder, and uses his other hand to rub at your throbbing clit.

“Fuck, Harry.” You grit your teeth.

“Good?”

“Mhm.” You whimper.

“Good.” He kisses your knee and continues on with what he’s doing.

He does something that surprises you when he lets your leg go back on the bed. His fingers pump in and out of you slower, now starting to curl up, but he wells up some spit and lets it drip from his mouth and down to your clit. Your mouth falls open and your cheeks heat up. He flashes you a smirk before bringing his mouth down to your clit. He sucks harshly on you and you have to bite down on your forearm to keep from moaning out too loudly.

Harry moves his face from side to side, and then looks up at you as he keeps his mouth on you while letting more of his spit pour over you. One of your hands flies to his hair for you to tug on and his eyes flutter closed. His tongue laps around your clit as his fingers continue to work magic inside you.

“H-Harry.” You moan in a whisper. You were getting closer, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on for, not that you really needed to, but everything just felt so good you wanted it to last.

He makes the ‘come here’ motion inside you as fast as he possibly can, the tips of his fingers no doubt pruny at that this point from how drenched you are. You bite your bottom lip so harshly you think you’ve broken the skin. Your vision goes hazy and your back arches off the bed. You hear a ringing in your ears from the all the rushing blood. He gives you a moment to compose yourself before licking you clean. Your body jolts up from the sensitivity.

“God.” You breathe as your vision becomes clear again. “You’re, like, too good at that.”

“Thanks.” He chuckles as he straddles your hips.

“How come you like eating out so much?”

“Almost six months together and you’re just asking that now?”

“I’m suddenly very curious.”

“You’re stalling cause you’re sensitive.”

“Not true.” You scoff.

“Alright, well, I just like it.” He shrugs. “Nothing more to it than that. I like making other people feel good, it helps make me feel good. I’m always throbbing by the time I’m done, you know that.”

“Sorta seems like you have a praise kink.” You smirk. “It makes sense, you like hearing your own name, you get off making someone else feel good. Should I moan more about how good it feels, would you like that, Harry?” You bat your lashes at him.

“I’m getting the condom.” He says as he gets off you, disregarding your question. He slides his boxers down his legs. “Are you gonna be able to keep quiet?”

“I’d love to record us just once so you could hear how much fucking louder you are than me.”

“Don’t even fucking tempt me, you know I know how to set up a proper shot. Could have a professional looking porno on our hands.” He smiles coyly as he slides the condom onto his length.

“Lucky for you I have zero desire to watch myself get fucked.”

“Too bad, you’re so beautiful when you’re getting pumped silly.” He lips ghost over yours as he slowly slides inside you and you gasp into his mouth. “God, you always take it so well.” He smears his lips along yours and takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Want it from behind, need to feel you deeper.”

“I’ll do you one better.”

He pulls out and pulls your body so you’re bent over the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows and he slides back in. You could really feel yourself stretching to fit him. He was nice and snug, and it just felt so right. He grips the back of your neck with one hand and keeps the other on your hip as he gives you long, deep strokes.

“Oh my fucking god.” You groan and clutch at the comforter.

“Better?”

“So much better, fuck, Harry.”

He starts ramming into you, almost making the bed move on the floor. You had to shove your face into the mattress to stifle your moans. He takes his hand off your hip, still using his other one to grip the back of your neck, and sucks his thumb into his mouth for a moment. Then he takes it to rub on your other hole, something he’s done plenty of times before. You were panting into the blankets, and then you come up for air when you feel his tip brush your g-spot. You press your cheek to the bed so you can breathe and moan out.

“Right there, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, please.”

Harry grunts over and over, biting into his bottom lip, making sure to keep pleasing you. He grits his teeth because he’d be mortified if Andy heard anything. He was thankful that the rooms weren’t right next to each other at least. To make sure you stay quite though he yanks you back to him, still driving in deep, his hand moving to rub your clit, and his other hand moving to open your mouth. You take the signal, and start sucking on two of his fingers. You end up biting down on him when you feel your release come, and he bites into your shoulder to keep himself from screaming. He plants kisses over your shoulders as you both calm down. You release his fingers and he pulls out slowly. You turn around to face him and you kiss him.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you so much.” Another kiss. “Never gonna let you go.” You throw your arms around his neck and his eyes widen. No one ever said that to him before.

“I love you too, baby.” He holds you close to him for a few moments, and then eventually you both get cleaned up. He couldn’t stand there with a filled condom forever, after all.

Six months, six entire months. Harry hadn’t had a relationship that lasted this long in a long time, which was pretty sad considering he was almost thirty-three. He holds you a little closer tonight.

A couple of weeks went by, and you had gotten into a routine of staying over Harry’s place a couple of nights a week, and when Andy stayed at Paige’s, he’d come to your place, just to keep things equal. Hanukkah was just around the corner, and you had plans to go see your family, but Harry would be in London by then, which was no problem, so you both decide it’ll be fun to exchange gifts on a snowy Sunday.

“I’m so glad finals week is this week.” You say as you peel the potatoes for the latkes.

“Same here.” He says as he gets his food processor out. “But…the closer the semester is to ending, the closer I get to leaving…”

“You don’t sound very excited.” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, I am…I’ll just miss you.”

“Aw, I’ll miss you too.” You give him a peck on the cheek. “Maybe we can FaceTime and you can introduce me to your family.” You smile.

“I’d like that.”

“Y/N…?” Andy says, coming up to you both with something behind his back. “I was hanging up mine and Dad’s stockings, and…well, I made one for you.” He shows it to you and you gasp.

It was a blue stocking with silver glitter, and your name was written on it in glitter as well.

“Oh, Andy…this is so sweet.” You lean down to give him a hug. “Thank you so much, I’d be honored if you hung it with the others.”

“Okay!” He exclaims before going back into the living room.

“Did you know he was making me one?”

“I did.” Harry nods with a smile. “Had me take him to the craft store the other day after school.”

You pout and look back over towards the living room, then back to Harry.

“You’re raising a very good boy.”

Harry smiles and gets the food processor going to shred the potatoes and onions. You use a cheese cloth to get all of the water out, and then you mix the rest of the ingredients in, and Harry gets some oil going in the pan.

“Andy! Wanna help me form the pancakes?” You holler for him and he comes into the kitchen very excited.

“Yeah!” He washes his hands and helps you make the pancakes while Harry minds them in the pan.

It was a lot of fun for the three of you to cook together. Harry also baked sugar cookies. It wasn’t the healthiest meal, but that’s what the holidays were all about.

“That was so good, I’m stuffed.” Andy says. “I like it with the applesauce the best. I’ve noticed a lot of Jewish food is either fried or sweet.”

“Pretty much.” You laugh. “Are you excited to go to London soon?”

“Yeah! I love getting to see everyone. Grammy always gets me the best stuff.”

“Andy…we don’t go see Grammy because she buys you things.”

“I know that.” Andy mumbles. “But it does make it more fun.”

“What else do you like about going?” You ask.

“I get to see my cousins and my Auntie Gem.” He says as he starts to help clean up the plates.

“Alright, are we ready to decorate the tree?” Harry asks.

“Yeah!” Andy says and goes into the living room.

“Do you feel comfortable with that, Y/N?”

“Of course! Sounds like fun.” You smile.

Andy shows you his favorite ornaments, and explains why. He and Harry used to collect them, it was something just for them when he’d come to visit. You giggle when Harry lifts Andy up to put the star on top. You’re also extremely impressed because it couldn’t be easy to lift up an eleven-year-old.

“Since I won’t see you both for Christmas, I thought it could be fun to do this now.” You say as you grab your gifts for Andy. You and Harry already talked about doing this, but he pretends to be just as surprised. You all sit on the floor and you slide Andy his gifts.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Y/N.”

“Oh, sure I did. How else would I score brownie points with your dad?” You wink at him and it makes him laugh.

He opens up one box that has a couple of t-shirts in it. One of them has LIFE IS UNFAIR on it with a picture of a roller skate under it. His eyes widen and he beams at you. The other one has CAN YOU REPEAT THE QUESTION? on it, and he smiles just as big.

“I know how much you like that show…so-“

“I love them!” He nearly tackles you with a hug, and you wrap your arms around him. “Thank you!”

“You’re more than welcome.”

“Where did you even find these?” Harry asks.

“I had them made on Etsy.” You shrug. “Here open this one.”

Andy rips the wrapping paper off, and gasps.

“Finally, I’ve been begging Dad for this game.” It was What Do You Meme. “Thanks, Y/N, I’ll be able to play this with my cousins.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile.

“I have something for you too, let me go get it!” He gets up and races to his room. Andy comes back with a small box that he clearly wrapped for himself. “Happy Hanukkah, Y/N.” He smiles and hands it to you.

“Thank you, Andy.” You tare the wrapping paper open, and then open the box. “Oh, wow.”

Andy had made a popsicle stick jewelry box, but he had spray painted it matte black and put some felt on the bottom of it. It was gorgeous, and you couldn’t wait to use it.

“Andy…this is amazing, thank you so much. I can’t wait to put all my rings and stuff in this.”

“Really? You’ll use it?”

“Of course I will! It’s just what I’ve been needing.”

“Cool.” He smiles and looks at Harry. “Well…I, uh, have some homework I need to go do, so…I’ll just be doing that.”

“Did you help him at all with this?” You ask as you move to sit on the couch with Harry.

“Nope, well, I set him up in the garage, but he did it all himself.”

“He’s very talented.” You look the box over. “Can’t even see where he used the hot glue.”

“I…could I give you my gift now? I don’t wanna wait until after New Year’s…”

“Sure! I have yours with me too!” You get up quickly and rummage through your bag for his gift and he grabs your from under the tree.

“Are you…upset at all that I won’t be here for the New Year?”

“Harry, I know it’s not ideal to be apart for it, but next year I’m sure we’ll be together to kiss when the ball drops.”

His cheeks heat up, and he leans in to kiss you.

“That sounds nice.” He nods. “I just felt bad…it was too soon to ask you to come with me, and-“

“Honestly…I probably wouldn’t have gone even if you did ask. And it’s not because I wouldn’t have wanted to, I just really need this time to get some work done.”

“Okay.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Thanks.” You smile. “Okay, open.” You plop your gift into his lap and he opens it with a smirk.

“Sunglasses?”

“I saw you looking at them at the Ray-Bans store…do you like them?”

“I love them! They’re great, how do they look?” He puts them on and makes a Zoolander face, making you burst out laughing.

“They’re perfect.”

“Thank you.” He takes them off and puts them into the case, and then kisses your cheek. “Here…I wasn’t sure what to get you…so I hope you like it.”

You side eye him for a moment, and then open up his gift. After clearing the wrapping paper you see it’s a flat, black velvet box.

“Harry…if you spent-“

“I know these sunglasses weren’t cheap, so I don’t wanna hear it, just open it, please.” You slowly open the box and your eyes widen. It was a beautiful necklace. The chain was silver, and the slide was a palm tree that had diamonds all over it. “You talk about how much you love the beach…so I thought you’d like the palm tree, but if you don’t we could go to the store and pick out a different one.” He watches you to try to read you a little, but you were speechless.

“I don’t want to return it…I…I love it Harry.” You look at it. “Would you put it on for me?”

“Yeah!”

You turn around and move your hair while he clasps the chain for you. You turn back around to show him. Usually it was him who looked like a wide eyed puppy, but this time it was you. No one had ever gotten you something like this before.

“It looks wonderful on you.” He tucks some hair behind your ear.

Normally you wouldn’t be so aggressive out in the living room with Andy home, but he did say he’d be in his room doing homework. You practically lunge towards Harry, wrapping your arms around his neck and crashing your lips on his. His hands cup your jaw as he sucks on your bottom lip.

“I’m so glad you like it.” He breathes as he presses his forehead to yours.

“M’never taking it off, and whenever someone asks where I got it I can say my amazing boyfriend got it for me, and I don’t care how cheesy that sounds.” You smile and kiss him again.

“It’s not cheesy at all, praise me all you want.”

“Don’t be silly.” You nudge him with a giggle. “Thank you, seriously, this was so sweet of you.”

“Sorry you won’t be able to use the jewelry box for it.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I have plenty of other things I can put in there.”

“Are you two done being gross?!” Andy shouts from down the hall.

“Yes!” Harry shouts back and starts cleaning up all the wrapping paper.

“Good.” Andy says, plopping down on the couch next to you. “So you like it?”

“Very much, your dad’s got quite the eye.”

Harry comes over with a mug of hot chocolate for everyone. He had been making it in the crock pot all day.

“So…” Andy takes a sip of his warm drink as Harry sits on his other side. “You know how last year I just stayed with Mum while you were still in London?”

“Yes.”

“It was sort of…annoying because I had to get up even earlier for school, and Mum is extra busy because of Gram, and I’d feel bad making her drive me for two weeks.”

“What exactly are you asking me? You can’t take two weeks off from school to stay in London, Andy…as much as I’d like you there.”

“No, I know that. Um…” He looks up at you for a moment and then back to Harry. “What if I stayed here with Y/N?”

“Andy…” Harry looks at you awkwardly. This should really be a private conversation, and Paige should really be involved. “Um, listen, your mum really enjoys having the extra time with you.”

“I know, but two whole weeks of all that back and forth?”

“If she’s fine with it, you could do like two long weekends with your mum, and I could stay here the rest of the time. It would sort of be like I was house sitting, Har.” You chime in.

“You’d do that?” Harry asks, almost shocked.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “If…Paige says it’s okay.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow to see how she feels about it. A couple of long weekends could be a good compromise.” He sips his own drink. “You’d really be okay with pick up and drop off?”

“It’s not like it would be out of the way, the school’s down the road.”

“I hope Mum says yes, I hated getting up early last time, and she doesn’t wake me up like you do.” Andy says to Harry.

“How does Dad wake you up?” You were very intrigued.

“I just go into his room and nudge him awake. Most mornings I have to rip the blanket away.” Harry chuckles. “How does Mum do it?”

“She yells down the hall that’s it time to get up and if I don’t she comes in and tickles me.”

“Hm, maybe I should try that.” Harry ponders.

“No!”

You and Harry laugh at Andy. You couldn’t believe he felt so comfortable with you that he wanted to be able to just stay at the house with you while Harry was gone. It meant a lot to you. You knew Harry couldn’t cut his trip short. The journal that publishes his works is in London, and he had a big meeting about his latest manuscript scheduled.

“So…you’d really stay here with Andy while I’m gone?” Harry asks you as you both get ready for bed.

“Yeah, as long as you feel comfortable with it.”

“I do.” He nods. “It means a lot to me that you’re always so willing to jump in and help.”

“Harry…” You slide into bed next to him. “You know...I care a lot about Andy. I love you, and he’s your son, and well…I love him too, simple as that.”

“This was the perfect day.” He beams at you.

“Yeah, it was.”

“He…he wants to do what?!” Paige was frantically running around her home while on the phone with Harry.

“I couldn’t believe it when he brought it up, but it does make sense…” Harry was putting some fresh polish on his nails while in his office. “He’d still be with you for a good chunk of time.”

“True…and it would save me from having to make all those extra trips.” She bites at one of her nails.

“Paige, please, that’s a nasty habit.” Her mother grimaces as she makes herself a cup of coffee.

“So…things are going well with your mother.” Harry says facetiously.

“Oh yeah, it’s all peaches and cream over here.” She rolls her eyes and goes down the hall to the office for some privacy. “Okay, so he’ll do two Friday to Mondays with me, and then spend the rest of the time with Y/N?”

“That’s the plan he’s hoping for, I believe. Are you okay with that?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I trust her with him. She’s been spending the night more with us, everyone seems comfortable.”

“Okay, well, if you trust her then so do I. Oh! She and I could finally have a little lunch date or something. You’ll need to give me her number so I can coordinate pick up and drop off.”

“I will, and yeah I think it’ll be the perfect excuse to get to know each other better.”

“Perfect, so I’m still set to get him at the airport on the first, yeah?”

“Yup, all that’s staying the same.” He pauses for a moment. “Are you doing okay? Is there anything you need?”

“I’m…better. Noah’s been a great distraction for my mom when I need a break. Allie and her hubby will be here for Christmas like always so that’ll be good, and she’s just about sold my mom’s condo, the paperwork’s almost done.”

“That’s great.”

“Thank you for asking though, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, just wanted to make sure.”

Harry and Andy were taking the Concord Coach bus to the airport, but you offered to drive them down to Logan since you’d be staying at your brother’s for the week. Andy thought you were a cool driver, way better than his dad and he let you know it right away. You drive them to the gate and get out to say goodbye.

“Safe travels.” You smile and give Andy a hug.

“Thanks again for driving us.” Harry says.

“Of course, I was headed here anyways.”

“Right.”

“Jesus, just kiss already, I’ll turn around.” Andy rolls his eyes and fiddles with his new friendship bracelet, making sure it was intact. Yes, Brandon and Andy made friendship bracelets for each other for Christmas, and Andy got the butterflies.

Harry glares at him for a moment, but you bring his attention to yourself.

“I love you, have fun.” You say to him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you too, I’ll let you know when we get there.” He puts his hands on your hips and kisses you. You didn’t want him to let you go, but you knew he had to.

“Dad, the police are gonna yell at us, come on!”

“Okay!” Harry whips his head to look at Andy. “He and Paige both have your number, so that should be all set. If you need anything from me, don’t hesitate to call, I don’t care what time it is.”

“It’ll all be fine, Harry.” You smile and lean up to kiss him again. “Go on.”

He nods and takes Andy’s hand to go into the airport. You get back in your car and drive off. You’d miss Harry like crazy, but you were excited to spend some time with your family and spend New Year’s with your friends like always. Consistency put you at ease. You were also looking forward to getting some work done without any major distractions. When you get to your brother’s place, the wine comes out immediately.

“Okay, so this is like…the are you a good mom test.” Julian says. “I mean, you’ll be alone with his kid for two weeks.”

“It’s not a full two weeks…and I’ve been home alone with Andy before.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna be responsible for keeping him alive for longer than just a few hours.” Phil says. “Man, look at that necklace, it’s so beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You blush. “It was so sweet of him. Taking care of Andy is gonna be a piece of cake, he’s like my little buddy now. I’m more nervous for the one on one I’m going to have his mother.” You grimace. “We’re gonna have brunch or something.”

“She just wants to get to know you better, Y/N. Is that so bad?” Phil asks.

“No! It’s not bad at all, and I know I’m lucky that Harry’s ex isn’t some crazy bitch, she’s really nice, it’s just awkward. I’m fucking the guy she used to fuck…I’m in love with the guy that used to be in love with her.” You take a sip of your drink. “I know why she wants to meet…things are serious between Harry and I, and she probably just wants to make sure a psycho isn’t around her son.” You laugh.

“Speaking of seriousness with Harry…” Julian says. “You’ve been together, like, six months now right?”

“Mhm.” You smile and bite your bottom lip. “It’s going really well.”

“Have you two talked about where you see it going, though?” Phil asks. “I know it’s an awkward conversation to have, but I certainly would like to know what his intentions with you are.”

“I see it lasting, and I think he does too…”

“But have you talked about?” Julian asks.

“No, it’s sort of too soon, don’t you think?”

“No.” They say at the same time.

“Not when he’s almost thirty-three and you’re twenty-seven, Y/N. You’re not exactly kids.” Phil says. “I don’t want him wasting your time.”

“He’s not! We just haven’t talked about all that, I’m sure we will. We exchanged keys, that was a big deal. I’m sure we’ll have the conversation soon, maybe when he gets back.” You shrug. “The department’s getting together to take him out for his birthday, I made reservations at our favorite Thai place and everything.”

“That’ll be fun.” Phil says. “Do that, and then ask what the fuck is up.”

“Maybe not in those words exactly.” Julian chuckles. “But…you should know where you two stand.”

“I bet you we’ll talk about it once he gets a full report from Andy.” You smirk. “He’s bound to rave about me, or at least I hope he will. Harry hasn’t had a relationship in a long time, especially not one where his son has liked his girlfriend so much. I’ve also told him I don’t plan to go anywhere after I get my PhD…so we’ve had little snippets. You two worry about me too much. If I thought Harry was some fuck boy I wouldn’t be with him.”

“We’re just looking out for you, that’s all.” Phil says in defense. “We like Harry a lot, he was great to hang out with. I think you’ve found someone great, and I’m not trying to rush you into something, but I can’t help but worry about you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” You smile at them.

Later that night as you get into bed, you think over what your brother and Julian said. You did need to have a conversation with Harry. You loved him so much, but you needed to make sure you both wanted the same things.

Harry: landed, exhausted, but we’re here. You’re either in bed or out having drinks, but either way, I love you and sweet dreams

Your eyes light up when you see the message from your man.

You: had drinks, and now I’m in bed lol glad you got there safely, get some sleep baby, I love you too

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