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angelfic · 9 months ago

Text

— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.

warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad

author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo

12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.

Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.

“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”

You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”

“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”

A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.

You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”

Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.

“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.

Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”

“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.

“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”

Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”

“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”

The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.

You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.

“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”

“Yep.”

Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.

“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.

You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”

You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.

Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”

You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.

“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”

“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”

You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.

Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”

“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.

Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“I should go and deck him in the face.”

Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.

Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.

“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”

“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.

He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”

“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.

“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”

He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room

You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.

You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“

You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.

As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.

You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.

Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.

“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”

“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.

Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.

“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”

“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.

You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.

You immediately step back.

Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.

Good, you think viciously.

Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.

You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”

“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.

Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.

“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.

Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”

Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.

You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.

“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”

The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.

Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.

“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.

“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”

Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”

“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”

“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.

Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”

You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”

You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.

The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.

Sort of.

He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.

It’s starting to unnerve you a little.

One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.

Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.

“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.

“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.

Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”

“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.

“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.

You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.

When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.

The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.

“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.

“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.

Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?

The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.

Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”

“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”

“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.

He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.

The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”

Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”

“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”

“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”

Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”

“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”

“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”

“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”

You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”

“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.

“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.

“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”

“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”

You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.

He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”

Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead

“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”

“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”

You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.

“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.

“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”

He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”

“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”

Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.

“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”

You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”

Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.

You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.

After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.

You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”

You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”

Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.

As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.

As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.

At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.

It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.

He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.

“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”

“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”

“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.

“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”

“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”

“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.

“Sorry-”

“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.

His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.

“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”

Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.

The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.

“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”

You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.

“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”

“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”

Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”

You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.

Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.

“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”

You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”

“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”

Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”

“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.

“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”

You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.

“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.

“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”

“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”

You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.

You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.

Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.

“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”

You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”

“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”

“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott smut #theodore nott

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jarofstyles · 5 months ago

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Flower

Hello… here is another mini series I started even tho I have other things I definitely need to finish…. But I’m kinda obsessed with them so I hope you guys like them 🫢

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 2 and 180+ exclusive writings!

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- y/n being oblivious, stupidly sweet h, things alluding to masturbation

“Y’know that isn’t normal for him, right?” Gia murmured as she came up next to Y/N. The low light of the bar had her squinting slightly, but thankfully the rock music wasn’t blaring too loud over the speakers over here. Coming after work, she had looked forward to meeting up with her friends for some much needed socialization- even if she was exhausted.

Confusion painted her features, looking at her friend with furrowed brows. “What are you talking about?”

“Harry. He’s like, all over you. All the time” She looked over to the man with a smirk, who had previously excused himself to participate in this round of pool. Y/N wasn’t much for the game so she stayed back in their seats, taking a moment to decompress. Or, try to. Sometimes it got a bit overwhelming with so many people talking at once.

“He’s just touchy, isn’t he?” Y/N had only known Harry for a few months, moving here to teach and one of her coworkers so kindly helped integrate Y/N into her friend group. Harry owned a contracting business, actually, and Y/N had been getting lots of help from him on a variety of projects. Specifically, the latest project regarding his expertise in what sort of bannister she should have for the staircase. It was antique, and she didn’t want to be like those flippers she saw online who ruined the charm of old houses. If she wanted a brand new build, she would have bought one. “See?”

Harry had his arm around Mitch, laughing about something probably a little dumb. The man was borderline tipsy but he’d just started his water rounds. He seemed to be an affectionate person, cuddly. At least to her and Mitch and Niall, all of whom seemed used to it.

“Yeah, but not with women. He’s more reserved when it comes to them but not with you. Like… what was that before?” Her cheeks flushed slightly as dhe knew exactly when her friend was talking about. Harry had come back from the bar with their soft pretzel and another drink for her, and when he sat down she was promptly dragged into his lap. She’d let out a yelp but it turned into a laugh, settling in his thighs. Of course there was no admitting that her stomach had erupted in butterflies and she felt them kick up every time he rested his chin on her or squeezed her a little tighter to him. That the scent of his cologne had become something that grounded her anxiety in the moment, and it was weird how he seemed to be an anchor for her every time he pulled something like that. Somehow he just had that sort of effect on her.

Now that she mentioned it, she had noticed Sarah’s eyes widening when he did that, but she had assumed it was just for the pure audacity of a man manhandling a woman into his lap and ripping off a piece of cheese dipped pretzel and bringing it to her mouth.

Y/N knew Harry was a cuddle bug. He was needy, like a pup, nosing and pawing his way into peoples hearts. But she assumed he did this sort of stuff with everyone. Maybe she wasn’t paying enough attention, but she had been too nervous to allow herself to think of his touches as flirtation. It would bring down the wall she’d tried to set there to not get her hopes up and look too deep into things. It had gotten her heart bruised a few times already. “Oh.” She replied, looking at her slowly emptying glass. “I, um, didn’t really think about that. He’s been pretty handsy for a long time.” He was also a flirt. Said things on purpose to make her flustered, but only in her ear so she’d get even more worked up. That was something he really liked to do- whisper in her ear or close to her to share something only with her.

“Babes, you need to open your eyes. That man is completely gone for you. Smitten kitten. I was convinced you guys were secretly banging but I was trying to mind my business… but you mentioned a dating site earlier and I got confused.” She’d wholeheartedly thought they were already an item. “You need to talk to him or make a move or something. He’s all but pissed on you to claim you from the rest of the group, and he keeps looking over here to check on you. He acts like your boyfriend already, but there are more benefits you can cash in on if you just go for it.” She wiggled her brows making Y/N groan, hiding her head in her hands.

She was way too sober for this conversation.

Of course she had interest in Harry. Some feelings, even, but he’d never expressed interest in dating anyone. How could she not? He was almost unreal, checking loads of boxes she had in her mental list of ‘what my dream man would have’, including the dimple thing. The fact that he always said he was “waiting for the right one to find me” when she’d ask floated back into her mind, clearing a bit of the fog that usually surrounded her when she thought about him. Had he been trying to tell her something?

Y/N could admit she wasn’t the most perceptive at times. She was a little oblivious, some could say, and didn’t read into signs well. The trait was something that used to get her into trouble when she was younger, her head always off in the clouds instead of where it needed to be according to the adults around her. It was possible she missed something, but she wanted to find out how to rectify that.

“Speak of the devil…” Gia whispered, moving over a bit with a snicker as Harry seamlessly slipped back into the booth and ran his hand over her hair. Y/N felt his presence like a blanket, face turning to look at him and his concerned features. That little wrinkle between his brow she always noticed when he was upset or focusing heavily on something.

“Hi, petal. Something wrong? Headache?” He asked delicately in case the answer was yes. She got migraines frequently, as much as it sucked- but Harry had brought her some pain relievers while she was at work once to save her ass. God, her head was a mess but it wasn’t from the migraine this time around.

“No, I’m okay.” She lifted her head, feeling his hand slide under her hair to hold the back of her neck. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the chills settling on her skin as his thumb rubbed over the side of her throat, concern still etched on his features. “Was just a bit dehydrated but I’m fine now.” Her smile must not have been as convincing as she tried, his lips pursing as he shook his head.

“Got t’be careful with eating the salty chips and then having the drinks… one glass isn’t gonna be enough.” He sighed. “Stay here for me, yeah? I’ll be right back, let me get you some water.” Without thinking he leaned in and pressed a peck to her temple, sliding back out of the booth leaving the spot tingling. Sitting there with rapidly blinking eyes, she watched the stretch of muscles flex under his tee shirt as he made his way towards the bar to order said water.

Okay. Yeah. Now that she mentioned it, she definitely knew he didn’t press little kisses to the rest of the girl’s heads, or give that amount of attention to her but… again, she had tried to ignore it. Tried not to get her hopes up.

“Girl… you’ve got to see it now.” Gia’s brows were raised up. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

Maybe she was right.

——

“I’m okay, H. I promise.” Y/N laughed out the words as he brought the straw back to her mouth and gave her a look. “Fine. But I’m gonna have t’piss soon if you keep force feeding water down my throat.” She shook her head as she took another drink, making a show of swallowing it. “See? Done.”

Harry’s eyes had dipped down to her throat when she swallowed and back up to her mouth, taking a beat too long to respond. “Good. You… we can’t have you feeling poorly tomorrow. Are y’still up for it?” His hand was traveling around her body. Not in a sexual way, not really, but over her shoulders. Rubbing her arm. Cupping the back of her neck. Fiddling with her hair. For the first time, Y/N could consciously see what Gia was talking about. Maybe it was sad she needed someone else’s validation of it first, but now that she had it she didn’t feel as crazy for the emotions she felt.

“Of course.” Harry was taking her to a sick used bookstore that he had helped remodel a few years back. When he found out she had gotten back into a reading mood lately, he’d suggested it immediately over text under the table, which now that she was thinking about it…. It was obviously to ensure it would be just the two of them. No one else. He wanted to take her by herself, a little outing for just the two of them.

Stupid butterflies kicked in overdrive. “I’ve been dying to grab some new books.”

“I know. I remembered it when the owner called me a few days back about something and knew I had t’take you.” He grinned, leaning in a bit as he tucked the hair behind her ear. “I really hope you’ll like it.”

Y/N didn’t have much time to respond before the chatter got louder and the group that had gone back up to the bar for more drink ambled back and climbed into the booth. This time it wasn’t as much of a shock when she was scooped up into his lap, but it still made her hot under the skin. Her tummy swirled as he wrapped one solid arm around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, the other running over her thigh. It wasn’t suggestive, closer to her knee as he began to rub his thumb over the soft skin there.

For some reason it was getting to her, making her worked up. The gentle touches, the wholesome nature of it made her feel a bit ashamed as she felt herself throb between her thighs, but it only got worse when he adjusted her in his lap, lifting her like it was nothing. Of course he had strength, the man hauled lumber by himself and did all sorts of superhuman shit when it came to construction, but it still shocked her every time she got to experience it first hand.

Taking a moment to think about it, it was always apparent that he was a beautiful man with a beautiful body. One thing that she really liked were his arms. Just as a whole. Hands, arms, how they’d built out a bit from all the hands on work. His hands could be a little rough with some callouses from those tools, but her grandma always did tell her that was the sign of a hard working man. It wasn’t something she focused on before because she had tried to deny the possibility of not only rejection but not being able to be in the friend group if things went sour.. At the moment she was past that.

She could see the vein in his arm just a bit, near the anchor tattoo. His hand curled over her knee, almost possessively. This entire position was him claiming her. Realizing now he’d never pulled any of the other girls as close as he did her made her head spin. Hell, he really didn’t do much than give a friendly hug or hand to help them if they were stumbling. Fuck, he could actually feel something for her. Far past friendship.

“You’re quiet.” His words were so close they almost vibrated in her ear, making her startle a bit. “Shit, sorry Petal. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The little smile given to her made its way into her bloodstream, heating her up the longer he looked at her. “Why are you in your head, hm? Tired?”

The way he spoke to her was so tender and sweet… gah! Now that she was allowing the possibility to be a thought, it was shaking her up.

“Yeah, getting tired.” She wasn’t lying. Her Friday classes had been a handful. That was the truth. “Need to take a long shower and sleep until an hour before you come to pick me up.”

“Sounds like a good plan. What kind of soap or shampoo do you use?” He asked, a noticeable shift in his voice. A little deeper, softer for her ears only. It was intimate, she realized. How he spoke to her privately with her tucked in his lap. Her body melted further into him, but the lump in her throat had expanded from the realization. “You always smell fuckin’ amazing.” His nose skimmed over the side of her jaw making her exhale shakily. He was taking an inhale of her as he hugged her body against him. Her poor vibrator was in for it when she got home.

“Uh- it’s like a coconut citrus mix?” She had to think about it. It was hard to focus on anything with her revelations at hand and the man of the hour touching her so liberally. Like she was his to touch. It wasn’t disrespectful and she knew he was the first person to read her body language- hell, he probably could read her mind better than she could process her own thoughts. But it was still sinking in, the feelings gripping her stomach. “Thank you. I try my best. No one wants to be stinky.” Nose crinkling in disgust, she felt him shake his head against her.

“Trust me when I say you’re the best smelling person I’ve met. Wouldn’t complain if all my things smelled like you.” Oh? He didn’t elaborate, but there was a barely there kiss to the hinge of her jaw rendering her speechless. His reaction was to place his chin back on her shoulder, interjecting into Niall’s rant while Y/N sat there trying to process what that was.

Deciding to test something made her really nervous, but she wanted to see what he’d do. While he was always the affectionate one and she never pushed him away, she didn’t usually return it as much. He always sought her out and she reciprocated but she wasn’t one to initiate a lot… so she wanted to see what he’d do.

Letting out a yawn, she leaned her head against his shoulder and let her head nuzzle into his neck. Without saying a word, her hand went for his on her thigh and weaved their fingers together, pulling it further up her thigh. Holding his hand, she could feel his body stiffen ever so slightly for a mere moment and his heart rate pick up. His other arm around her tightened, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “Comfy?” He mumbled to her.

“Mhm.” She nodded, letting his hand squeeze hers. He was just solid and sturdy. She could lean against him and feel protected in a way. Why she hadn’t tried this sooner she didn’t know, but she could hear his mood get better as he spoke. It was palpable, like he was vibrating a little bit, squeezing her hand every once in a while to remind her he was there. Or maybe it was for his own mind?

It continued like this for a bit until everyone decided to get going, Harry being the last to stand. He was gentle about helping her off his lap, beating her to get on his feet and offered his hand to her to help her up. “C’mon, sleepy Flower. Time for your shower and sleep. Can’t have you too tired for the selection of books, hm?” His hand steady on the small of her back, he led her to the car with a bit of a delay as they said good, a hug tight and lifting her off the ground a bit as he did so before having her promise to text when she got home.

She fulfilled the promise, as well as her guilty vibrator session thinking about that tiny kiss on her skin and his hand on her knee, hoping that would make her chill out. It didn’t.

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reysdriver · 3 months ago

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i need more dad James 🫣🫣🫣🫣

James comes home from a trip to the farm supply store with a wild surprise — dad!farmer!james x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little bit of fighting but it's absolutely not angsty, some parental nervousness ig

words: 1.3k

a/n: I need more of him too lol (I'm gonna use this ask to test out my new au tho so I hope you're ok with that <3)

James came home right when you were starting to prepare dinner, much to the joy of you and both your children. You scooped up your baby girl from her play mat on the ground, then right on cue, your toddler showed up at your side, rushing to the front door with you.

“I guess you heard the door too, Haz?” You asked your son, holding out your hand for him to take.

As he looked up at you and nodded, he took your free hand so that the three of you were all going together to see James.

Once you saw your husband at the door, all you felt were the butterflies in your stomach that still hadn’t flown away even after all these years. But then, you noticed how he was leaving very little space between him and the door as he closed it, and how he was covered in little strands of fur even though he was just running a few quick errands.

Before you could even ask him about it, he wrapped his strong arm around your waist and pressed his lips against yours. It took you a bit of time to register what was even happening, but as soon as you started to melt into the kiss, James pulled away and flashed you a sweet smile.

He then bent down to greet both Ivy on your hip and Harry standing beside you.

“I have a surprise for you and the kids.” James said, mostly excited with a hint of guilt.

You raised an eyebrow at your husband. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugged and touched the door handle, ready to open it. “I can’t really tell you. It’s better if I show you.”

He opened the front door to reveal a ridiculously small horse standing fifteen feet away from you and tied up to the bannister outside.

It was half your size and incredibly fluffy. You had to resist going over to pet it just because you were so in shock at the fact that your husband came home from the farm supply store and surprised you with a whole horse—or maybe just a third of a horse, based on its size.

A thousand and one thoughts raced through your head but before you could make sense of any of them, Harry giggled loudly and began to run towards the horse in front of you all.

Panicking, you called your son back and walked him back to the porch. You used your free hand to hold him tightly against your thigh so he wouldn’t run back the animal James just surprised you with.

“You bought a pony on a whim?” You asked your husband.

“No, of course not.” He shook his head. “She’s a miniature horse. They’re totally different. The guy I bought it from told me all about them!”

Of course. Now that the horse’s title is settled, everything is fine.

“James, we need to speak in private. Stay here.”

His face flushed. He knew you were mad because you almost never called him by anything other than your various pet names for him unless you were upset.

You then ushered Harry back inside the house to the living room, where you set Ivy back down on her play mat.

“Play with your sister for a minute, Haz. If she gets fussy at all, you can come get me outside, okay?”

He smiled and nodded, sitting down next to the one year-old. “Can we play with the pony soon?”

You exhaled, unsure of how to respond. “Your dad says it’s a miniature horse, not a pony. And maybe, if you’re good.”

The boy seemed satisfied with that, so you pressed a kiss to the top of his head and walked back outside, where you found your husband looking extremely guilty as he awaited your return.

Once you closed the door behind you, he immediately tried to make the situation better.

“Lovie, I knew you’d be reluctant about all of this, but I swear I can explain—”

“You bought a horse, James! You were only supposed to be going out for a new shovel and some paint, then you come back with a horse?!”

“Well, I got the other stuff, too, it’s just in the truck. I just got to talking with a man at the supply store and he said he was selling some of those cuties right out of his horse trailer in the parking lot.”

You sighed and crossed your arms. “How much did it cost?”

“Not much at all! The guy was selling them for bottom dollar ‘cause he’s moving soon and needs ‘em gone!” James rested his hand on your upper arm and stroked lightly. His voice softened, and so did his expression. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have bought her if we couldn’t afford her. I’m always thinking about our family.”

You were trying real hard not to look into your husband’s pretty eyes because you knew the second you did, you would have no choice but to give in. You stared at the porch swing, the miniature horse, the chicken coop, anything but James.

And he could clearly tell you weren’t convinced just yet, so he kept going.

“Look, I know we got rid of most of the animals before Harry was born, but those were the more unstable ones, and that was back when we were nervous about everything. Now we’re more experienced, and she’s just the sweetest thing.”

You exhaled, peeking through the window to check on Harry and Ivy playing on the living room carpet.

“They’re just babies, Jamie.”

He bit back a smile at the use of his nickname, letting him know you were warming up to the idea.

“Harry’s already three, love.” He removed his hand from your arm and gestured at himself. “I was just barely older than him when I started riding the real horses, and now look at me!”

He smiled and posed with open arms, which in turn made you smile.

“I love looking at you.” You said sincerely. “You’re the best.”

“Your words, not mine.”

You giggled, then pulled him in for a kiss. And not just one to distract like when he first came home. A real kiss, and a good one too.

When you pulled away, you left your hands where they were and caressed softly.

“Next time you want to do something extravagant for the kids like this, talk to me about it first, okay? If you kiss me enough, I’ll say yes to anything.”

James raised an eyebrow, insinuating things that made you glad the kids were inside.

Your jaw dropped in mock stun. “Not like that, Jamie! What do you take me for?!”

The two of you both laughed, and he pulled you in for a sweet hug. “My wife, the mother of my incredible kids, the love of my life. I could go on.”

You would have claimed he was just flattering you as an apology for buying the horse, but you had already told him he could keep it. Plus, he says things like that far more than he had ever bought something crazy and needed forgiveness.

“So I can go introduce the kids to the horse for real now?”

Your gaze moved over to the animal a few feet away from you, and you nodded as a response to your husband’s question.

“As long as you have a saddle for that thing.”

He grinned, then kissed your nose quickly before darting away. “Thank you! It’s in the truck! I love you!”

You laughed to yourself, and shook your head amusedly while you walked towards the miniature horse that you now owned.

“Hi there, sweetheart.” You greeted, brushing her mane with your fingers. “Welcome to the family. James there can be a bit daft, but I think you’ll like it here.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x wife!reader #dad!james potter #dad!james potter x reader #dad!farmer!james potter #farmer!james potter #farmer!james potter x reader #james potter fluff #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #dad!marauders #harry potter

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ellecdc · 5 months ago

Note

elle elle elle can i request something with moon water killer (i think that's with barty?😭) with a reader inspired by the song Matilda by harry styles???

Since i saw you haven't gotten many requests with song inspo

omg! I'd never heard this song before! it's really beautiful, so thank you for sharing! also....I hope I did it justice <3 ** .... fuck ok I posted this and noticed you perhaps asked for reader to be Matilda coded? sorry I didn't catch that at the time

poly!moonwaterkiller x fem!reader who exceed expectations

CW: mention of Barty & Regulus' shitty childhoods and families (but nothing is described), lyrics are in a different font & the lyrics I inserted directly into the fic are in blue

You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up. You don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own.

Being born a Black came with a lot of expectations.

A young Black was expected to be well-groomed at all times, to be quiet, obedient, well-mannered, and have proper etiquette training.

They were expected to be dutiful sons and daughters, driven and successful students, and to keep up the family’s good name.

They were expected to grow into robotic adults, find a partner who was probably not too distantly related from them, and raise the next generation of Black children who would then wash, rinse, and repeat.

Regulus Black expected the same for himself.

He expected to be a dutiful son, a diligent student, a successful heir to the Black family name, and produce a suitable offspring who would amount to much the same.

And by some brilliant stroke of luck, he did not meet those expectations.

Though he tried to be a dutiful son, and he was indeed a diligent student, it hadn’t seemed to be quite enough for Orion and Walburga Black.

And it wasn’t until Sirius left that Regulus realised that it would never be enough for them.

So he left, too.

You can let it go.

And when Regulus believed that there was lingering Darkness that flowed through his veins, he had found three people who saw the Light in him… even when he couldn’t.

And Regulus won’t bore everyone with the details; but somehow that Light brought him here, to this day, with these people.

And though both you and Remus were privy to the life Regulus lived growing up, neither of you truly understood it; and Regulus was happy for it.

But Barty did.

Barty knew what it felt like to never live up to the expectations that came with your Name, to be perpetually wrong and disgraceful, and unfortunately that the consequences of such were really quite high.

But they made it. They made it out.

Though it was not without scars.

Birthday’s had always been somewhat touchy for Barty, which may seem strange for the boisterous, egotistical, cocky son-of-a-bitch that everyone knew Barty to be.

A whole day? Dedicated to you? Where people were obligated to shower you with love and gifts? What self-absorbed, high-performing only child wouldn’t like that?

Barty didn’t.

Though Regulus supposed it was less that Barty didn’t like the idea, and more that birthday’s had never been a positive experience so he never quite knew how to handle them.

But - God love you both - you and Remus were determined to change that; and Regulus thought you might actually be succeeding.

Because Regulus stood in the backyard of his small, cosy, modest townhouse with string lights hanging between beams and bannisters, basking the space in a golden glow as the small fire crackled and music played softly from Evan’s sound system that he brought for the event.

The event being Barty’s birthday.

Everyone Barty loved was crammed into the small space; and the people Barty claimed not to love but rather tolerate (read: Remus’ friends) had shown up too.

Throw a party full of everyone you know.

Regulus had the prime view from where he stood leaning against the wooden fence; some drink in his hand that Potter insisted was “so sodding good, mate, you’ll love it” - that Regulus could admit wasn’t horrid - as he watched Remus twirl you around in sloppy circles that the two of you seemed to think was a dance (years of proper etiquette and dance training would have Regulus saying otherwise). You threw your head back in a laugh that echoed in Regulus’ rib cage as Remus dipped you low; his honey brown curls glowing ethereally in the golden glow of the string lights as he pulled you back up to your full height to press a kiss to your lips.

And Regulus’ prime viewing location also allowed him to watch Barty as he, too, watched the two of you.

Barty always talked of the pain like it’s alright; ever the comedian, he was always able to play off some of the most traumatic stories from his childhood as funny. And Regulus understood that; nothing about the way either of them had been treated had ever seemed especially alarming until now…until they saw that it could be better, that it should be better.

Barty had been laughing and chatting with Evan, Pandora, Dorcas, and Marlene from the deck, but he had since opted to lean against the bannister as he watched two of his lovers enjoy the party; his party.

A party that Barty likely never imagined…expected for himself, a party that would have seemed impossible years ago.

If the subtle glisten in Barty’s eyes and the mystified look on his face was enough to go by; the sentiment was not lost on Barty, either.

Their eyes met then; two boys whose families never showed them love who moved on to find freedom in love and a family that they started all on their own.

It should have been impossible for Barty’s face to soften anymore than it had been as he watched you and Remus dancing, but it seemed to do just that when he shot Regulus a wink.

Regulus raised his glass to his boyfriend then; to growing up, to moving on, to showing love, to their little family.

And to exceeding every expectation either of them ever had for themselves.

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megalony · 26 days ago

Text

Is He Sleeping?

This is a new Tommy Kinard imagine, based on the same idea as my other Tommy imagine Sleep No More. I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Sleep No More

Summary: Things are going great for (Y/n) and Tommy, until Tommy starts dealing with insomnia. And (Y/n) doesn't know what to do when he starts to sleepwalk too.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A sigh tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips as she shuffled the covers, kicking them down towards the end of the bed. Her knees curled up and she shuffled towards the other side of the bed, but a discontent sound left her lips when she stretched her arm out in front of her.

She groggily opened her eyes, squinting through the darkness to look at the bed. It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the darkness but she felt a shiver crawl down to her toes when she noticed the other side of the bed was empty.

Why was she alone in bed?

She tried to squint at Tommy's bedside table, barely working out that it said 2:10am. Tommy's alarm wouldn't go off until half past six. What was he doing out of bed already? He barely got up during the night at all, (Y/n) could count the times on one hand when he got up for the toilet during the night because it was something he rarely did.

Her fingers brushed over the bedsheet, smoothing out the creases and wrinkled while she waited. She didn't like going to sleep alone, it was one of the reasons she hated when Tommy had to work nights. She wouldn't be able to get back to sleep until Tommy was beside her again.

When a minute ticked by and turned into two, (Y/n) huffed and pressed her hand down so she could push herself up. Her head spun and white spots danced through the darkness as her body swayed from left to right until she gained her balance back. One hand stayed on the mattress to push herself up and the other pressed against her lower back where the baby was weighing heavy on her spine.

Her feet shuffled against the carpet as she slowly padded out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway she could barely see.

"Babe, everything okay?" Her voice was gruff and quiet, laced with sleep as she peeked over the bannister. No lights were on downstairs and she knew Tommy; he wouldn't be sat watching tv or making a drink or having a midnight snack at two in the morning. Especially not in the dark.

But she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of unease that clawed at the back of her throat and sent her stomach pooling with adrenaline.

Was Tommy having trouble sleeping again?

He had been having a bit of trouble lately when it came to sleeping. No matter what he tried, Tommy couldn't get a full nights sleep. He got a few broken hours here and there, but even after a twenty four hour shift he still couldn't sleep through the night. Working nights only made it worse. Night shifts meant short bursts of sleep, a ten minute power nap in the bunker room if necessary. And when Tommy was struggling to sleep during the night, sleeping during the day was impossible.

It was a good job Tommy didn't do many nights, he was one of the better pilots so he was reserved for day shifts when they had the most accidents needing air support.

Some nights (Y/n) had woken up to find Tommy reading early into the morning. He was an avid reader but this last month (Y/n) had found him going through a book almost every night. She had given him the books she had been saving for his birthday to give him something to do and try to make him feel a little better. He didn't feel as bad losing sleep if he was engrossing himself in a novel.

(Y/n) nudged the door to the nursery which had previously been the spare room, but the lights were out and the room was basked in darkness, save from a slither of white creeping in from the street light outside.

She pulled the door shut again but suddenly froze in her tracks when her ears zoned in on a certain noise she hadn't noticed a few seconds ago.

Running water. The shower.

Why on Earth was Tommy getting a shower at two in the morning? That was only a normality if he had been on a night shift and didn't get chance to wash at the station before he came home. And Tommy hadn't been on shift today or tonight. He had been in the shower earlier this evening before they watched a movie; he didn't have a reason to be getting another one right now.

What was he doing? Had he had some kind of accident or spilled something? Was he that irritated by insomnia that he decided getting a shower was the only thing he could do? Was he that fed up that he needed to start his morning routine right now?

"Babe?" Her voice was still groggy with sleep and came out a bit too quiet as she headed to the bathroom.

Panic flooded her chest and a shiver tore down from the base of her neck right down to the tip of her toes when she opened the door. She could feel a bolt of adrenaline coursing through her stomach, livening up the baby.

The light wasn't on.

The bathroom was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by a faint light seeping through the frosted glass window, presumably from a neighbour's house or porch light. Why was Tommy getting a shower in the dark? He'd never done that before, not even when he had a horrid migraine.

"Baby, what're you doing?" Unease flooded her voice as she quickly fumbled for the cord and switched the light on.

The pastel cream light blinded her and had her squinting and groaning, taking at least five seconds to get her eyes adjusted to the light so she could actually see what on Earth her husband was doing. Confusion, terror and the baby wriggling were the only things (Y/n) could feel when she looked towards the bath.

Tommy was stood in the bath, the left side of his body slumped against the wall and he had one hand cupping the back of his neck. That wouldn't have been such a worrying sight for (Y/n), if it wasn't for the fact that he was still in his clothes.

He had his boxers and his thin black pyjama shorts on. They were sodden through and clinging to his body like a second skin and it looked terribly uncomfortable, like being out in a torrential downpour and coming home sticky and wrinkled and itchy. And when (Y/n) looked down, she realised Tommy was still wearing his socks too. He had never done this before. He had never gotten a shower in the middle of the night, much less while he was still dressed.

(Y/n)'s hand absentmindedly moved to cradle her stomach that was churning along with the baby waking up and wriggling around with panic. She managed to find the will to move and she stumbled forward towards the bath, hands outstretched towards Tommy.

Was he having some kind of emotional turmoil or a panic attack? Had he suffered a nightmare? It had been a few months since Tommy suffered a nightmare either to do with his time in the army or from some of the horrors he'd seen on the job. And usually if he had a nightmare, he would seek comfort in (Y/n), not do something like this.

"Baby?"

When she looked up at him, (Y/n) almost didn't recognise him.

The vacant look in his very constricted eyes was bewildering. His lips were parted just a little, enough to let shallow breaths slide silently into the air, but he wasn't moving or reacting to her at all.

"Baby? Baby, are you okay?" Her hands clamped down on his bulging biceps as she leaned over the tub to try and get within Tommy's eyeline. But her body jolted and a hiss passed her lips when she felt the water beat down on her skin.

The shower was cold.

How long had he been stood here like that? He was going to make himself sick taking a cold shower like this.

(Y/n) kept her nails pierced into Tommy's right arm while she twisted and leaned forward to turn off the shower before Tommy went hypothermic.

Water trickled down her shoulder and arm and she could feel droplets tickling her cheek before she turned to stare up at her husband. He was drenched from head to toe and he was cold, almost as cold as a block of ice.

(Y/n)'s fingertips trembled as she trailed them over his drenched, frozen skin until she had her hands on his neck and her thumbs stroking the razor sharp edge of his jaw. She gave a little shake and tried to tilt his head down in her direction, trying to give some sort of stimulation to get Tommy to answer or just to react to her. But when a thought dawned on her, (Y/n) froze and her breath caught in her lungs.

Could Tommy be sleepwalking?

That was the only explanation she could come up with, other than Tommy having some kind of complete mental breakdown.

He wasn't responding to her, he wasn't looking at her or moving his eyes at all. He didn't seem to register her touch and his pupils didn't seem to have constricted or changed to adjust to the light when she turned it on. It was as if Tommy was completely void of any reaction or any response. If he were having a breakdown, there would have been signs before now, before tonight. Something would have tipped (Y/n) off. This had to be some sort of sleep walking episode.

"Tommy… baby, come on, please. Please, wake up."

What was she supposed to do? Did she try and get him to sit in the tub until he eventually woke up? Did she try and help him get out of the tub? She couldn't leave him stood in sopping wet clothes, she had to get him dried and changed before he went into shock or made himself sick.

But Tommy was a lot taller and broader and heavier than (Y/n). She wasn't sure she'd be able to take his weight if he leaned on her and if he fell, she wouldn't be able to catch him without both of them sustaining an injury or two.

"Oh, baby…" (Y/n) swept her eyes around the bathroom as her lips curled in distaste. She didn't know what to do.

She couldn't very well climb into the tub with Tommy. She wanted to, she wanted to stand in front of him and help him sit down or try and get him out the bath. But if she stood in the bath and she slipped, or Tommy crashed down on her, the baby was going to be at risk. And (Y/n) had no idea how to safely wake someone from sleep walking without causing or doing any damage.

With her hands clenched around Tommy's biceps, (Y/n) pressed her knees into the edge of the bath tub and tried to lean in front of him. His lips were still parted and the faraway look in his eyes was haunting and now etched into (Y/n)'s memory.

She wasn't quite sure what she was trying to do, but a scream tore from her lips when Tommy suddenly slammed backwards.

"Tommy!"

She thought he had slipped. She thought he was about to fall back and crash into the bath or whack his head and knock himself out, but he reacted quicker. His left hand plastered against the wall and his right hand deadlocked around (Y/n)'s upper arm, cutting off her circulation and causing blinding pains shooting through her nerves.

His body tilted backwards until he leaned to the left and his back and shoulders glued up against the tiled wall, sticking to the wall to prevent himself from falling down.

(Y/n) hated the shooting pains coursing through her knees that barged into the bath frame and she tried to keep hold of Tommy, although he was holding himself up just fine now.

It was as if he were a wax work that had come to life.

His body began to tremble and his chest heaved as he gasped for every inch of air that he could get. Droplets of water trickled down his nose and fell from his plump lips while he tried to look around and regulate his system again.

His eyes looked rabid and dangerous as they finally began to dilate and he clicked his jaw into place as he looked around the bathroom.

"W- wh… what?"

Where was he? What on Earth was he doing in the bathroom?

He was freezing cold. His body was wracked with trembles and spasms knocking him back into the wall as his muscles contracted and tightened in waves. He was soaking wet, but when he glanced his eyes down, his nose crinkled and his lips parted.

He was in the shower with his shorts and socks on. His clothes were stuck to his torso and legs and he could feel his woollen socks sticking uncomfortably to his frozen feet. Why was he so cold? Why was he in the shower? What had he been doing before he got in here?

The blood was pumping so harshly in his arteries that he was sure he was close to having a heart attack. It felt like Tommy's skin was coming alive, beating out the uneven rhythm his heart was setting. And his heart, the organ was throbbing and thundering against his ribs like it was trying to claw its way free of his chest.

Tommy tilted his pointed chin down and looked down at his wife who was clinging to his arms with her chest practically glued against his torso. It made for an odd angle when she lifted her head to look at him with eyes full of panic and exasperated, ragged breaths thundering past her lips.

"Can… can you climb out?" (Y/n) could see her words momentairely confused Tommy until she leaned back and gingerly pulled on his arms. Indicating her head down to signal for him to get out of the bath. They couldn't talk or do very much when they were both stood leaning over the bath like this.

Tommy moved his hands to grip (Y/n)'s arms when she didn't seem to dare let go of his biceps. His fingers trembled and tapped against her arms and he continued to gasp for air, but once (Y/n) straightened up and stepped back, Tommy tried to move with her. He clambered over the side of the bath and onto the bath mat and when (Y/n) knelt down, he followed her lead and crashed down to his knees beside her.

"Are you okay? Baby, are you alright?" (Y/n) allowed herself to let go of Tommy's arms in favour of cupping his face so she could turn his head in her direction. He was still breathing like he had run a marathon, but at least he was back with her.

"What… why were we in the shower? What time is it?" Ragged breaths slipped through each word causing him to stutter and caused his voice to come out croaky and quiet.

They didn't usually take showers during the night, at least, Tommy guessed it was still night considering how dim the bathroom looked and the blackness outside the frosted glass window.

Why were they in the bathroom? Why had they- or at least he, been in the shower? What time was it, the window was cast in darkness outside and Tommy wasn't sure he had even gone to sleep. He didn't remember falling asleep. He remembered lying in bed, a book in one hand and his arm draped around (Y/n) who had been curled up inside his side. He didn't remember lying down to try and sleep, but then again, he couldn't even remember which book he had been reading either.

He didn't remember waking up or coming into the bathroom, or leaving the bedroom at all.

"I think you were sleepwalking. Baby you- you were taking a shower in the dark." (Y/n) cupped Tommy's face in her hands, smoothing her thumbs across his cheekbones while she tried to gauge his reaction and see if he remembered anything at all.

"I don't… I didn't…"

All the thoughts running through Tommy's head must have been clear and the panic had to be written on his face, because (Y/n) leaned across and smothered her lips against his. The feeling of Tommy's frozen lips against hers made (Y/n) gasp into his mouth and she could feel how cold he was when she moved her hands to loop around his neck instead. He was like a block of ice.

She hoped that her body heat might just thaw him out a little and calm him down at the same time.

She felt Tommy's frozen cold hands move down to hold her waist and his thumbs glided up and down her hips while he leaned into her. Unintentionally making her as cold as him and soaking the droplets of water into her clothes instead.

It took him a few moments to dare to open his eyes again and look down at his wife. He hadn't meant to scare her. He hadn't realised what he was doing or knew that he had even left the bedroom, but Tommy could see that he had frightened her and it broke him. His job was worrying enough without giving (Y/n) even more frights like this.

"It's alright, baby." (Y/n)'s lips were upon his again, sealing her words with a promising kiss while her hands trailed down his tense, frozen biceps. "We need to get you dry."

Tommy took a second to look down at his sodden clothes again, but he didn't seem to have the will to move.

He tried to loosen his muscles and ride out the tension in his body while (Y/n) held his elbows and coaxed him to stand up. Part of him felt silly. He was a six foot man with more than one hundred pounds of muscle on him, and here he was letting his wife coach him and help him up like he a baby bird that needed taking care of.

He realised he was starting to slip off into his thoughts again while (Y/n) helped peel off his sodden clothes like she was helping a reptile shed its skin. She tossed all the soaked clothes into the bath, they could sort it out in the morning.

Tommy came back to his senses when a towel was suddenly wrapped around his torso and (Y/n)'s warm hands were gliding up and down his arms to get his attention. Her head was tilted to one side and she had a soft smile upon her face that made Tommy's insides turn to mush.

"It's okay." She murmured again and pushed up on her toes to kiss his neck. She was doing her best to calm him down and so far, it seemed to be working.

She gasped, taken by surprise when Tommy suddenly moved. His arms slipped beneath hers and deadlocked around her waist, pulling her flush against his damp, trembling skin. (Y/n) found herself smiling softly and she looped her arms around his neck while Tommy's face tucked up against her throat with his temple resting on her shoulder.

He didn't know why he had just experienced that for the first time, but now, Tommy didn't want to go back to sleep in case it happened again.

If he found his way into the shower during his sleep, what else would be find himself doing?

***

Tilting her head to the side, (Y/n) leaned her cheek on Tommy's shoulder and curled her hand around his arm. She smiled when she felt his lips pressing to the top of her head and allowed herself to wriggle up into his side a little more.

The sofa was inviting and comfy enough that (Y/n) felt like she could fall asleep at any moment, so she couldn't imagine how Tommy felt. Sitting here in her parents living room, both of them sinking into the sofa like this, it must be making Tommy as tired as it made (Y/n). But it didn't seem to matter how comfy, tired or snuggled down Tommy felt, sleep was still his enemy.

"Okay?" She heard him mutter into her hair and she nodded, keeping his arm bound against her chest while his hand stayed on her stomach, rhythmically stroking her bump.

She glided her hand up and down Tommy's arm while her attention shifted back to the tv. They had spent the majority of the afternoon here with Bobby and Athena and were staying for tea. Tommy seemed calm, calmer than he had been all week since his sleep walking episode.

"You good?"

Athena's voice snapped Tommy out of his thoughts and he managed a smile and nodded. He leaned forward a little, moving (Y/n) in the process so he could place his empty cup down on the coffee table.

He had switched to drinking decaf since he started having trouble sleeping, it didn't do much good but Tommy couldn't risk going back to caffeinated and not sleeping at all. He had to try and relax and get some sleep or he wasn't going to be fit for work at this rate.

"Just tired, as always." He was fighting to stay awake when all his body craved was to collapse into a dreamless state. He knew his in-laws knew the struggle he'd had recently.

Bobby had his fair share of sleepless nights so Tommy had tried talking to him to see if he had any tips and advice.

"Are you still having trouble sleeping?"

Tommy dragged his free hand up and down his face and let himself slouch down into the sofa a bit more. He wanted to stay as relaxed and calm as possible so when they went home tonight, he would still feel the same and might just be able to fall asleep for a little while. He just needed a few hours, that was all.

"Yeah, but I haven't wandered since that first time last week, which is good." It seemed to be a one-off incident with the sleepwalking. Tommy hadn't gone wandering again since that night and he had been very on edge every night since then.

He feared where he would wake up and what would happen, but every night when he managed an hour or two of sleep, he woke up right where he started. Right beside (Y/n). It was a relief for them both.

He had still talked to the doctor and got himself an appointment though. It had been the first time he had sleep-walked and he had to tell the doctor in case it happened again and so they would take him seriously about his insomnia.

He still couldn't quite get his head round what he had done. Getting a shower in the middle of the night was strange enough, without doing it in his sleep. And he wasn't one for cold showers either, so he must have been very confused in his sleep-induced state to turn on the wrong tap like that. But a cold shower while he was sleeping was preferable to a scolding one and getting burns on his skin. Although that might have woken him up faster.

"Maybe you should speak to the doctor. Some people sleepwalk when they're stressed."

"I'm booked in for next week, I'll make it until then." Tommy smiled and tilted his head back on the sofa while he moved his hand down from (Y/n)'s stomach to squeeze her thigh.

It was his silent way of ending the panic Athena might be having about him. With his relationship being fractured with his own mother and having no contact with his dad, when he married (Y/n), Athena and Bobby became his surrogate parents. But he didn't want them to worry about him.

He wondered if it was stress or something to do with panic. His job was stressful, but Tommy had always been good in a crisis and he was never overly panicked or came home worried. And he didn't have too much stress in his home life either.

The only thing he thought of that could be stressing him out was the baby. He worried about (Y/n), naturally, but even more so since she got pregnant. They'd tried for a baby two years ago and ended up having a miscarriage. Tommy didn't want that happening again. But surely that wasn't enough to stress him into sleep walking.

He was hoping the doctor would give him some medication, even if it was only temporary. Just something to settle his system and give him a reboot so he started to sleep properly again.

After waking up in the shower, Tommy couldn't help but panic about what he could do next. He might try to cook something. What if he started cutting vegetables and ended up slicing himself instead? Would he even wake up if he hurt himself while sleep walking, or would his mind not recognise or sense it? He had no idea if he would feel pain while in a sleep walking episode or not and the contemplation was frightening.

When the conversation shifted, (Y/n) felt Tommy kiss the top of her head while she nudged her cheek further into his shoulder and cuddled up into his side. She knew he was zoning in and out of the conversation and trying to focus on the movie on tv which was fine as she and Athena fell into a conversation together.

And she knew her dad was in the kitchen, already starting to prepare dinner like he normally did.

"What if we all went out for dinner next week?"

"I think-" (Y/n) cut herself off before she'd properly started when she suddenly felt Tommy's hand tighten around her thigh. Her brows pulled into a frown and she tilted her head back on his shoulder to look up at him.

Had she forgotten something? Did he have a lot of shifts next week? Did they have something planned out next week that she had forgotten about?

When she looked up at her husband, (Y/n) found herself frowning. Tommy's head was leaning to the right, away from (Y/n), but she could see a vacant look in his eyes and his expression looked like he was a stop-motion character that had been forgotten about.

He looked like someone had pressed pause on him.

His eyes were open, but his pupils were constricted and he was barely blinking properly while his lips hung slightly parted. And his hand was clenched around (Y/n)'s thigh, but he was frozen. His arm was tense on her thigh, his hand paused in grip on her leg and if she didn't have her head on his shoulder (Y/n) would have panicked that he had stopped breathing altogether.

"Babe…?" (Y/n) gently uncurled her hand from his bicep to rest her hand on his chest while she lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him properly, but the look on his face scared her.

"Is - is he sleeping?" Athena shuffled to the edge of the armchair she was perched on and set her drink down on the coffee table as she looked worriedly at her son in law.

She had heard of this, but she had never seen it before. Micro-sleeps. Where someone could fall asleep, or at least, their mind would partially shut them down into a state of REM sleep, while they were still up and previously moving about. Tommy's eyes were still open but his body was locked in place and he was taking soft breaths like he had indeed gone to sleep.

This was a way for the brain to catch a small ounce of rest, taking whatever form of sleep it could get when it was desperate. Was Tommy in such a critical need for sleep that his body was taking micro-naps? (Y/n) had never seen him do this before.

"Tommy, babe," (Y/n) gently patted her hand on his chest and started to run her hand up and down his sternum to stimulate him without giving him too much of a shock.

Unlike last week when he jolted awake in the shower, this time, Tommy simply blinked furiously and twisted his head from left to right, looking between them all.

His hand gave a tight squeeze around (Y/n)'s thigh before he stretched and wriggled in his seat. His pupils looked like they were going back to normal and his breaths were ever so slightly elevated.

"Sorry, what- what did you say?" Tommy shook his head to clear the fog that seemed to have rolled in. He had zoned out. He wasn't sure what conversation had occurred while he had drifted off but he didn't like the looks he was receiving.

He looked from Athena down to (Y/n) and his eyes narrowed when he noticed her furrowed brows and how she was biting her lower lip. She was looking at him with such concern in his eyes as if he had just admitted to some sort of murder. He moved his hand from her thigh to curl gently around her wrist that was resting on his chest, and he sighed when the touch seemed to make (Y/n) smile.

But there was still worry laced within her smile and when she looked over at her mum, she could see panic quickly being masked in Athena's eyes. She tried to keep the conversation going and talk to Tommy, both to check he was alright and to try and keep him awake so that little episode didn't happen again.

Tommy had never done that before. Maybe they needed that doctor's appointment sooner than they thought.

***

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open and her body jolted forward with a start. Her arm flopped across the bed with a thud and she groggily lifted her head up off the pillow, taking a second to look around.

Why was she awake? What time was it? What was happening?

Those three questions swirled around her head in a flurry while she tried to wake up and take in her surroundings.

The answer to the first question came easily. She was alone in bed, that was why she was awake. She had turned over towards Tommy's side of the bed, but her human radiator wasn't there to cuddle up to like she expected him to be.

The answer to the second question was 1:56am, the red letters on the digital clock flashed out at her like a horrible beacon.

And the answer to the third question was one (Y/n) wasn't sure she wanted to find out because a horrid thought dwelled in the back of her head. If it was this late into the night- or early into the morning- then that meant either Tommy couldn't sleep and was trying to keep himself busy. Or he was sleepwalking.

Panic flooded her system along with adrenaline and she could feel the baby wriggling to life within her when she thought about what Tommy was doing. Her hands pressed down into the bed and she managed to sit herself up, grimacing at how the baby shifted too and weighed heavy on her stomach.

It took her a while to get up and find her balance and when a cold shiver washed over her, she looked around the bedroom. Her hands snatched Tommy's hoodie that was laid on the chair next to the bedroom door and she dragged it over her frame, running her hands over her bump a few times to try and calm them both down.

"Baby?" Her voice carried into the empty hallway as she turned the light on and wrapped both arms around her middle, resting on top of her bump.

She made a beeline for the bathroom since that was where Tommy had been last time.

She wasn't sure what to expect. If he did it before, maybe he would be taking another shower in his sleep again. But then again, that had been a strange incident, Tommy might not do that again. Did sleep walkers always do the same thing when they acted out like this? Was it repetitive or was it random?

(Y/n) still didn't know what she was meant to do in this situation. She wasn't supposed to wake Tommy, so did that mean she just followed him around the house and kept an eye on him until he either woke up or went back to bed? Did she try and wake him gently or talk to him and hope her voice roused him from his state?

They hadn't gone to see the doctor yet, Tommy hadn't been assessed or had chance to talk to the doctor. (Y/n) hadn't had a professional tell her what was meant to happen in this situation.

She switched on the bathroom light and peered round, but she was pleasantly and horrifyingly surprised to see the bathroom vacant.

So he wasn't repeating the same action as last time.

She switched off the light and peeked into the nursery instead, but Tommy wasn't in there.

Perhaps he wasn't even sleepwalking. He could be making a drink. He could be reading a book downstairs, worried he might wake (Y/n) and therefore came downstairs instead. He might be watching tv. He didn't watch tv in bed after (Y/n) went to sleep because they were both light sleepers and the tv would wake (Y/n); something Tommy never wanted to do.

Her hand clung to the bannister as she slowly treaded downstairs, keeping her other arm safely over her stomach. (Y/n) didn't like walking about the house in the dark and she hated coming downstairs in the dead of night.

She was always afraid to find a burglar or see a face staring at her through the windows.

(Y/n) turned the downstairs light on, about to turn and head into the living room, but she stopped dead when she looked to the left.

The front door. It was open.

"Tommy? Baby, w-what are you doing?" Apprehension flooded (Y/n)'s voice as she crept towards the door. She didn't want to look.

What was he doing out there at two in the morning? (Y/n) didn't like where this was going. Tommy was a careful and methodical person, he wouldn't be outside late at night for no reason because they both knew what kind of people would hang around on street corners this late at night.

(Y/n) was always fearful of break-ins and burglars after their previous house had been broken into once before. Seeing the door open and knowing Tommy was around made (Y/n) worry that he had found a burglar or seen someone shady hanging around outside. It made her fear confrontation because she didn't want Tommy getting hurt.

Her hand trembled as she clung to the door and peered round. She didn't want to step outside unless she absolutely had to but she wanted to know what was going on and see if she had to make a phone call to her parents if something was wrong.

The soles of her feet ignited and caused her to gasp when she stepped onto the front step. It was freezing cold outside, and (Y/n) wasn't wearing any slippers or socks.

Maybe a pair of shoes might have been sensible, but (Y/n) was too nervous to think about wasting time and effort. She just wanted to find Tommy and get back inside to bed.

She didn't have to look far. She looked from left to right around the surroundings, dimly lit by street lights.

Her eyes immediately found her husband. He was stood just a few feet to the right of the front door. He was barefoot on the grass in front of the living room window, wearing his pyjama shorts and shirt.

"Tommy, what's the matter? What're you doing?"

(Y/n) found the nerve to pull away from where she was hiding beside the door and step onto the grass. She cringed at the feeling of the wet grass bubbling beneath her feet and how her soles sank into the soil that felt like sticky glue pulling her down.

She hoped no neighbours would be peering out of their windows this late at night and that any security cameras weren't looking this way. It did look rather odd, Tommy out on the front with (Y/n) huddling up at his side in a jumper and a thin pair of shorts that barely covered her inner thighs.

She knew both her legs were quaking and chattering together from the cold and her knees were threatening to give way. As her body started to dither from side to side from the low temperature.

She reached her hands out and clung to Tommy's arm while she looked up at him and took in his state.

He didn't have anything in his hands. He wasn't talking to or looking at anyone. He didn't seem to be doing anything at all except standing here in the dead of night like a statue.

"Oh no." (Y/n)'s voice broke and she pressed her forehead into Tommy's shoulder, clutching his arm tighter as she willed herself not to start crying.

He was sleepwalking.

Why had he gone downstairs and unlocked the front door? Why had he come out here in the middle of the night? What did his brain think was going on? This wasn't something Tommy would do even if he was awake, so why was he doing it now?

She had to get him back inside. (Y/n) couldn't let Tommy stay out here for the whole neighbourhood to watch. He looked like he was waiting for something or expecting some kind of fight to break out. The neighbours might think something was going on or Tommy was having some kind of breakdown.

Someone might think he was stalking the house and call the police.

(Y/n) was going to have to get him inside in his sleeping state or else she would have to call Athena and ask her step-mum to come down and help. She needed Tommy back in the privacy of their home so she could try and wait and see if he woke up as quickly as he had done last time.

Did other people who went sleepwalking normally venture outside? (Y/n) had heard of people driving while they were still technically asleep. She knew her dad said a woman had drove into the station- naked- whilst sleepwalking. At least Tommy wasn't stood out here in the nude.

"Baby, it's cold. Let's go back inside, hm?" (Y/n) pecked Tommy's shoulder and pushed up on her frozen toes to graze her lips along the side of his neck to try and stimulate him. Her fingers clutched at his arm tighter until she was sure he must have felt some sort of discomfort from her tight hold on him. And the way she was trembling was starting to make Tommy dither on the spot too.

She couldn't stand out here for long, it was too cold and too frightening to be out here where people might see them or try and cause some problems.

Would Tommy still be out here if (Y/n) didn't wake up? How long would he stay here if she hadn't come down? Would he have stayed out here all night, would he have continued to sleep standing up or would he have collapsed on the grass in a deep sleep? Someone could of hurt him if that happened or got inside the house if the front door was still unlocked.

The possibilities were endless and too frightening for (Y/n) to try and comprehend. She was just relieved she had found Tommy now, before anything too frightening happened.

She tried to be slow and gentle with her touch as her left hand stayed curled around his bicep and her right arm moved to wrap around his waist and her hand settled on his hip. She turned him to the left with a great deal of effort and ended up pressing her stomach into his side to try and get a better grip on him and turn him with her. He wasn't the easiest to move under any circumstance, especially when he was unresponsive like this.

"Come inside," She muttered into his arm and pulled until Tommy's feet finally moved and he slowly lolled towards the front door. His movements were slow and somewhat uncoordinated, but he was moving and that was more than enough for (Y/n).

Once she got him back inside, (Y/n) pressed herself right into his side, stitching them both together so he wouldn't wander off. She kept her right arm around him while she turned and shut the door hastily behind her, quickly turning the key to look the door. Although it didn't really matter when Tommy had clearly managed to unlock the door in his sleep, there was nothing to stop him from doing that again if he did this a second time.

She didn't know what to do now.

Did she try her luck getting Tommy up the stairs and back to bed? Did she usher him into the living room and wait for him to wake up? Did she wait and see what he tried to do next? Should she call someone?

This didn't feel like it classed as an emergency and (Y/n) would never want to burden the helpline and have them tell her she was being silly. The only person she could call was her dad. This wasn't a health issue that needed the paramedics, Tommy was breathing and moving and not in danger. If he had gone and disappeared or fallen or got hit by a car, then this would be a dire situation.

"Baby, let's go-" (Y/n) tried resting her hands on Tommy's arms as she stood behind him and leaned her cheek on his arm.

But her touch must have done something. She must have took him by surprise or shocked him because his entire frame jostled.

His arms coiled into his chest, his feet stumbled sending him two paces forwards and his head surged down like his neck had been broken. (Y/n) couldn't help the shriek she let out when a loud "Fuck!" spat past Tommy's lips as if someone had stabbed him.

"Tommy- baby, baby it's just me. I swear, i-it's me." The urgency in (Y/n)'s voice stopped her from bursting into tears as she took a step back and held her hands out in front of her.

She watched Tommy thunder as he turned around, eyes rabid and looking in every direction while his hands plastered on the wall and the bannister to stop himself from going down on his trembling knees. He was breathing like he had been submerged in water, gasping and spluttering like a fish while his chest rose and fell rapidly which made (Y/n) begin to worry all over again.

Tears began to well up in Tommy's eyes much the same as (Y/n) and he watched her with confusion pooling in his orbs as she reeled one hand to press down on her chest. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down but she could feel the baby twisting awfully in her stomach from the shock.

Tommy looked around as he pushed off the bannister and took a step closer to (Y/n).

Why were they downstairs? Why was she looking at him with such fright in her eyes? Why was his skin covered in goosebumps? Why were his feet sodden and itchy?

"What was I doing?" He almost dreaded to ask and the scratchy tone to his voice made it hard for him to speak clearly at all.

God, what had he done this time?

The last thing he remembered was lying in bed and actually managing to fall asleep. He remembered curling around (Y/n), praying that he could sleep through the night without any issues. He remembered that feeling in his legs where he felt like he was walking on water or running through the air and that strange thought process that happened when he was on the verge of sleep.

How long had he been asleep before he started wandering the house? Where exactly had he wandered?

"Baby…?" Tommy reached out for (Y/n), overwhelmed with relief when she surged forward and gripped his torso and stood in his embrace. He took a second to look her up and down. She was in her pyjamas and had one of his hoodies over the top, but she was shivering. She felt as cold as he did, but the house didn't feel altogether freezing cold.

"Tommy, you- God, you were outside, on the front." (Y/n) moved a trembling hand to point behind her before her hand reached up to cup the side of his neck. "You unlocked the door, I- I found you outside, just stood there."

A croaky sounded left Tommy's lips and one hand moved to tangle in his hair which he started to pull like he wanted to rip the strands from his scalp. He trembled on the spot even as (Y/n) pressed herself up against his chest and smothered her face into his chest. He tried to take deep breaths but all he managed were little wheezes that got somewhat better when he started to focus on the feeling of (Y/n)'s lips kissing his sternum through his shirt.

He could feel her thumb stroking along his jaw and over his pulse point and her other hand circled over his shoulder and moved to stroke his back.

Tommy tried not to grip (Y/n) too tightly, but he couldn't help but dig his fingertips into her hips and he pulled her off balance when he tugged her closer. He could feel the little hitch in her breath when she was fully glued up against his chest, her bump pressing into his abdomen and her face smothered in his chest. But she didn't seem to mind.

She let Tommy bind an arm tightly around her waist with his hand clutching her hip for dear life. She let his other hand cup the back of her neck and grip her like he thought she was a figment of his imagination that was about to disappear.

Why had he gone outside? What was his mind doing to him? Why did he wander out there in his sleep when he would never venture outside in the night when he was awake and alert? That wasn't part of his natural behaviour. Why was this happening to him?

"It's okay, it'll be okay." She muttered into his chest that she continued to kiss while Tommy grappled to hold her tighter. Until she was almost whimpering into his chest at their crushing embrace.

She didn't know what she could do, but she would do anything to try and make things okay. She could lock the bedroom door and hide the key from him. She would have to make sure he didn't see where she hid it, and it would be a risk in case he tried to break the door in his sleep to get out. But she couldn't lock the door every night, it wasn't a long-term resolution.

She would have to be more vigil at night and keep an eye on Tommy. Any movement, any change in position or dip in the bed would have to alert (Y/n) and she would have to keep an eye and watch him if he went wandering again.

"I'm- I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't… Jesus, I don't mean to-"

"Shh. I've got you, we'll sort this out, I promise."

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) pushed up on her toes and pressed a wet kiss to his lips while she cupped his face in her hands. She felt his hand tighten on her neck, keeping her head tilted up towards him while he pressed down into her like she was the oxygen he needed to keep himself alive. And his other hand left her hip to slide beneath her jumper and feel for the baby and any movements.

He had to make sure this wasn't some strange dream. He wanted to keep himself awake and focused and ground himself with something, and (Y/n) was doing the trick right now.

As long as she held him, he would be okay.

#imagine #911 imagine #tommy x reader #tommy kinard imagine #tommy kinard #tommy kinard 911 #tommy kinard x reader #pregnant! reader #bobby nash

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pfhwrittes · 9 months ago

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"you love him. you've loved him since you were 9 and you love him now 20 years later." TW: references to transphobic bullying, angst, fluff, allusions to offscreen smut, alcohol mention, menstruation mention. pairing: kyle x ftm!reader

1.5k words of childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers. as always i've barely edited it so typos and errors may remain. edit to add: a massive thank you and shout out to @gemmahale for cheerleading me with this one and reminding me to trust my instincts. i love you a lot.

-- you love him. you’ve loved him since he first shared his curly-wurly during break time at primary school. head over heels puppy love. your mum teasing you with a “my little girl with her first boyfriend!” despite the way it makes your cheeks burn (and something twist inside your chest) when you both stand shyly together at 3.15 hand in hand waiting to go home.

you love kyle when he’s the joseph to your mary in the nativity. you love the way the teatowel your mum leant his mum slips into his eyes and causes him to laugh and forget his next line about needing to find an inn. you love him when he wraps you up in a big hug when missus king takes a photo of you both as your mum cheers the loudest from the back of the little crowd in the assembly hall.

you love kyle even when you both grow up and go to secondary school at 11, split up into different form groups and different timetables. you love him even more when he folds you into his little band of miscreants, “one of the boys” he says with a cheeky grin that warms you all the way through.

you love kyle when he chooses you first for the biology practical lesson, flicking little slithers of onion at you to make you laugh, despite the way anna-marie looks you up and down and whispers something cruel about how “he just pities the he-she” loud enough for you to hear.

you love kyle when he skives off school with you the day your period takes you unaware. he sneaks in through the kitchen door 15 minutes after your mum leaves for work, a battered curly-wurly and bottle of oasis clutched in one hand and his rucksack in the other. you love him when he settles onto the sofa, dragging your duvet over the two of you, flicking the telly on so you can both watch bargain hunt together.

you love kyle the day he cuddles you into his chest, completely uncaring about the way your snot and tears mark his t-shirt as you sob, both of you curled up on your bed. you love him so completely when he listens to you stutter out that you think you’re not really a girl. you still love him when he pulls away for the first time, a tiny frown on his face. you still love him when he doesn’t reply to your text asking him if he got home alright later that night.

you still love kyle when he starts ignoring you in school, no longer coming to find you during lunchtime. you still love him when he doesn’t laugh along with harry when you trip during design tech but he doesn’t stop james hissing “freak show” as you rub at your hip from where you banged into their table.

you still love kyle even when your mum sits you down at the kitchen and asks you how you feel about moving schools at 16. you still love kyle when you ask her “but what about kyle?” and her voice catches when she offers you a gentle “oh love” with wet eyes.

you still love kyle when he stumbles into you at mattie’s house party when you’re both 18, a shocked look on his face when he takes in your close cropped hair and wispy facial hair on your cheeks, despite the fact you haven’t spoken in years. you still love kyle even when he calls you the wrong name and your mumble gets swallowed up by cheers from the kitchen as someone spots kyle in the hallway. you still love kyle when you spot him crowd mattie’s older sister georgia up against the bannister and kiss her breathless before leading her up the stairs with his hand on her waist. you still love kyle when you end up sobbing into alex’s neck, their hand rubbing your back gently as the dew from the front lawn soaks the knees of your jeans. you still love kyle even as alex murmurs that “you should just forget him babe” into your hair as you sob anew.

you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle the next time you run into him, many years later when you pop into the pub under oath from mattie to meet her for a quick pint to catch up. you recognise the shape of kyle’s smile even if he is partially turned away to grin at a man with broad shoulders and a slightly flattened mohawk standing next to him at the bar. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle when he catches you looking and his smile slips momentarily as he offers you a tiny nod of acknowledgement before turning back to his friend. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle even when your eyes keep drifting over to him and the other three men in the corner booth as mattie fills you in on everything you missed during your years travelling around australia.

you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle when you bump into him again in the same pub the following week. literally bumping into him as you turn away from the bar with a pint in your hand. kyle steadies you with a hand on your forearm and you feel your heart soar before plummeting into the sticky carpet at your feet. you pull your arm away from him and your drink sloshes over the rim of your glass as you offer him a tight smile before stepping to the side. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle, but you can’t help but feel the warmth of his hand long after you’ve rejoined mattie and alex at your table.

you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle but a thrill goes up your spine when he asks you if he could “have a word with you, mate” as he joins you in the beer garden the week after that. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle but your heart aches as he stumbles his way through an apology. you’ve forgotten how much you missed your friend kyle when he makes you stutter out a surprised laugh when he talks about his friend soap knocking some sense into him.

you’ve forgotten how much you missed your friend kyle when he texts you asking if you want to join him and his sisters for a chinese. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when he hands you his vegetable spring rolls without asking. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when after dinner he leads you up to his childhood bedroom and he kicks his dirty socks under his bed like you’ve seen him do many times before. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when your ribs ache from laughing and he’s wearing that beautiful grin.

you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when he slips into the open seat next to you at the pub, his arm slung over the back of your chair, much to the matching shocked expressions of mattie and alex. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when he takes alex’s frosty demeanour on the chin. you fall in love with your friend kyle again when he responds to mattie’s pointed rhetorical “you know you broke his heart, yeah?” with a small squeeze to your shoulder and serious “i know, i was a fucking idiot.”.

you fall in love with kyle again when his hands shake on your waist as he leans in to kiss you outside your house under the flickering glow of a streetlight. just like you hoped he would so many years ago when you were both teenagers. you fall in love with kyle again when he pulls away to take in your stupefied expression and he asks if you’re okay, if he can kiss you again. you fall in love with kyle again when he gently turns you around so he can push you up against the front door to trail sucking kisses down your neck as your keys hit the doormat with a tinkling sound. you fall in love with kyle again when you ask him to slow down - wait - please - as he’s reaching for the top button of your jeans. you fall in love with kyle again when he traces gentle fingers over the scars on your chest, adoration in his eyes.

you love kyle when you trip over your boxers and his shirt the following morning as you stumble to the bathroom. you love kyle when you slip back into bed and he sleepily nuzzles into your neck. you love kyle when his phone blares his alarm from the back pocket of his trousers near the door to your bedroom 30 minutes later.

you love him. you’ve loved him since you were 9 and you love him now 20 years later as he presses a kiss to your hair. you love him. -- taglist: @kaadaaan

#binders and boyfriends #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #transgender reader #ftm!reader #tw references to transphobic bullying #tw menstruation mention #tw alcohol mention #angst #fluff #allusions to offscreen smut #kg #i hurt my feelings (and healed them again) writing this #also a MASSIVE shout out to gemma for cheerleading this

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harrys-titties · 1 year ago

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Hi my loves! This is an update to this fic here, or “Harry’s a dick and Y/N hates him for it.” Let me know how you like it and thank you for the lovely anon who requested it!

-masterlist-

———-

Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. It didn’t matter how long they had been dating or how many times he’d kissed Y/N or been inside her; it never got old. The feeling of Y/N’s desperate cunt squeezing him so tightly he sometimes worried the blood supply to his throbbing prick would stop or her whines and sobs that shook her whole body as Harry slammed into her. It was just something that brought Harry so much joy.

And really, today was no different. He could still feel Y/N as tight as ever around him, could still see her legs shake with each precise thrust into her squelching cunt, and he could still revel in the breathy moans she let out each time he pushed and ground that little bit deeper than usual.

The main difference, really, was that he could see her expression in the reflection of the elevator doors, the familiar clinch between her brows apparent and her cute mouth parted around moan after moan. He could see her as she tried desperately not to hit any of the buttons as Harry expertly pressed against her clit, settling for slamming her hand against the wall of the elevator next to her, her handprint leaving a little ring of condensation when she brought it down to hold Harry’s other hand currently on her waist.

Was it risky? Sure. But they could only spend so long trapped inside a small confined space together before something similar happened. It wasn’t Harry’s fault the elevator had broken down, leaving them suspended somewhere between the associates and the analyst’s floor. And it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Y/N had given him those fucking eyes she always seemed to have around him. Really, he was a victim in this scenario, and his vixen-like girlfriend was the perpetrator.

“Fuckin’ hell Harry, you’re gonna make me cum.” And well, maybe Harry wasn’t entirely blameless in this scenario. He leans over to kiss Y/N’s neck, instantly wishing they were somewhere more private so he could get her completely naked, feel the dip of her back pressed against his chest as he thrust into her. He’d just have to make do. Each push into her sent a gust of Y/N’s shampoo mixed with sweat towards him, the smell quelling his urge to feel Y/N’s skin against his own. He just loved her so much.

“C’mon baby. Let me feel it,” he mutters between ground teeth, the feeling of her squeezing around him just a little too good. She shakes her head, “more, I need more. Please Haz!” So he leans down, grabs her thigh and pulls, resting her foot against the bannister running the circumference of the lift. She whines as he pushes at her lower back, forcing her to arch it. The new angle is intense for both of them, Y/N’s groans increasing in pitch, and Harry feels the telltale tingles of an impending orgasm beginning in his groin. He pushes in at a slightly different angle, aiming to find her g-spot again now that their position has shifted. It’s obvious that he finds it when Y/N cries out, leaning down and resting her head against the panel of buttons, her hand grappling to find anything to hold on to and the buttons glowing golden as she pushes against them. He pushes in again and again, bringing his hand back down to her clit, rubbing in sloppy circles, giving her the most pleasure he can with the slightly awkward angle.

It doesn’t take long, Harry feeling the telltale shake of Y/N’s thighs, her hands reaching down to grab at his wrist neatly tucked between her thighs and squeezing as hard as she can. Harry’s not sure he’s ever heard her make this much noise, a sharp gasp followed by mindless babble, like every thought that came into her head was being pushed out with each movement of his hips. Her head falls back against her shoulders, and Harry watches in the reflection of the walls as her mouth falls open and her eyes roll backwards. “Fuck, fu- fuck! Harry, fucking hell. You feel so fucking good.”

It’s music to Harry’s ears, and it makes his orgasm approach even quicker. He feels the buildup starting in his groin, euphoria spreading outwards until all of his limbs feel weightless, and he waits for the fall, where he knows his orgasm will be ripped out of him.

“Wait, Harry wai- come in my mouth please.” Harry feels his whole body shudder. It takes everything in him to pull away from the warmth of Y/N’s pussy, a second longer, and he knows it would’ve been too late. He has his eyes closed but feels movement in front of him, and it’s only when he feels a small hand on his hip, right next to where his leaking cock is no doubt dripping, does he open them again. The sight in front of him is enough to make him come completely untouched, only having time to grab the head of his dick and press it against Y/N’s open mouth, the head bumping against her plump, spit-slicked lips. Y/N’s hair is completely messed up, half out of the ponytail it was tied in, flyaways in her face from turning around so quickly, her eyes rimmed with tears and rolling as she finally tastes Harry’s cum.

Once Harry’s orgasm starts to slow, he lets out a deep breath, small tremors making his legs shake as he rests his hand against the wall of the elevator behind Y/N. He almost faints when she flicks her tongue forward and around his head, humming as she tastes the tartness of her own cum smeared against it, mixing with the heady taste of the remaining drops of his seed. Harry whimpers, pulling her head away with a tight grip on what was left of her ponytail, letting out a groan at the way she fights against him to keep licking at him.

“Enough, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me prematurely if ya keep it up.” She flashes him a sly grin, giving one more hearty lick before taking the hand he’s offering her, straightening her shirt and fixing her skirt that had become skewed in the process. “Who would I let fuck me in elevators if you were to cark it this early, hm?”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up his fly before reaching out to her. He swipes a thumb against the corner of her mouth where a stray drop of cum had been left, bringing it back up to his own mouth and sucking the salty liquid off the pad, watching as Y/N’s hungry eyes follow the movement.

“Dunno, I’ll haunt whoever you choose anyway.” Y/N’s eyes dart back up to his, humour and love filling them as she laughs. They both startle as a resounding ding sounds through the elevator, the lift jumping and groaning as it begins to move again. They don’t have much time to recover before the doors open, and Y/N steps closer to him and grabs his hand instinctively.

Luckily, it’s Sarah and Mitch standing in front of them. Harry feels a rush of cool fresh air he hadn’t known he was missing until he felt it and watches as Sarah’s eyes dart back and forth, up and down, probably taking in their disheveled hair and clothes.

“Really, guys?” Sarah says as she rolls her eyes. Mitch steps into the elevator, his nose immediately scrunching as he quickly steps backwards. “It fuckin’ reeks of sex in there! Jesus Christ Harry!” Harry laughs while a mortified Y/N hides her face in Harry’s shoulder.

“We’ve been waiting for like fourty minutes!” Sarah whines.

Dramatic as ever, Mitch throws his hands up and turns on his heel.

“Nah fuck this, I’m takin’ the stairs.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry #harry styles smut #smut #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers ????

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perfettamentechic · 2 years ago

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26 febbraio … ricordiamo …

26 febbraio … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic

2020: Michael Medwin, attore e produttore cinematografico britannico. Studia in Inghilterra e successivamente in Svizzera, debuttando artisticamente nel 1940. Ha fatto molte apparizioni cinematografiche. (n.1923) 2020: Ben Cooper, attore statunitense. (n. 1933) 2016: Stefan Lisewski, è stato un attore tedesco. È stato brevemente sposato con Monika Gabriel e con Karin. (n. 1933) 2015: Giacomo…

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finelinevogue · 2 years ago

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the midnight game show

summary - you and harry partake in the midnight gameshow with michael mcintyre

warnings: swearing, based off these

word count: +2.2k

pairing: husband!harry x reader

The screen was in black and white and some text appeared on the screen saying it was 1 A.M.

A small row of houses was being filmed, somewhere in the rural ends of London. There were very few street lights and even fewer people. There were a few people starting to file on screen, however, and that was Michael McIntyre and his TV crew.

The camera zoomed in on his face, but it was clear Michael wasn’t exactly sure where it was pointing in the dark as his eyes never focused in one place.

“Now this might be our biggest gameshow yet. It’ll be great for the views.”

He walked up the stairs that lead to a front door, the crew all stood behind him waiting for him to enter. The camera focused on him again as he held the microphone up to whisper-talk.

“I’ve been given the key by Y/N and been informed they have a creaky few stairs at the bottom of the staircase.”

The screen then showed some black and white scenes of the street and the security cameras on the house itself, that would no doubt be funny to watch back tomorrow morning.

“Now, let’s go and wake up Harry Styles.”

After turning the key and letting himself in, he slipped off his shoes to reduce the amount of noise he would cause with them on. The cameramen followed him in closely, filming as much as they could without making too much noise.

Michael was seen snooping around the hallway, noticing lots of photos hung up on the walls although it was too dark to see exactly what they consisted of. The stairs were wooden, which is why they creaked, and so the camera recorded Michael almost doing the splits to try and avoid the three bottom stairs.

“I’m gonna rip. Shit.” The swearing was bleeped out because it was for a Saturday night TV programme.

His suit made a slight material splitting noise, but then he pulled himself up by the bannister and continued on up the stairs. You had told him which door was the one to your bedroom, considering there were so many rooms upstairs.

Michael went straight to the left of the stairs and held his hand on the door handle, cringing as someone behind him creaked a floorboard. Then he opened the door and allowed the cameraman to get a quick view of the two of you sleeping.

Normally on these shows the people are sleeping on opposite ends of the bed, but not you and Harry. Harry was sleeping on your side of the bed with you, furthest away from the door, you're almost smothered by his entire body. He had his body wrapped around yours, providing you with being the little spoon. Both of your bodies were hidden by the duvet, which was plain white with small red hearts all over it, but your head popped out of the top.

Then the music blared for the midnight gameshow theme and Harry sat up quickly looking towards the door as if he were afraid someone had broken in, frowning as he was confused about what was going on.

If people were watching closely, however, they would have seen how he buried you more into him so that he would have protected you if need be.

“Harryy! Welcome to the Midnight Gameshow!” Michael announced, walking over to your side of the bed since that’s where you two had ended up.

You were filmed laughing to yourself, only having been half asleep since you knew that this was going to be filmed. Harry turned his head down to look at you, and squinted his eyes from the sudden light of the bedroom. When he caught sight of you laughing he flopped his head back down on the pillow with defeat.

“Good morning Mr Styles.” Michael held out his hand for Harry to hold and Harry, still dazed and confused from being rudely awoken, reached out his hand to shake his back. Michael laughed and you rubbed your eyes to wake yourself up more. “Mrs Styles. Thank you for letting us in.” Michael shook your hand.

“This was you?” Harry asked you, keeping his arm curled around you from where you’d both been sleeping. He needed you for some extra comfort.

“Ready to play, Harry? We are against the clock here.” Michael said, as cheery as could be.

“What time is it?” He asked himself more than anything.

“The clue’s in the game's name.” Michael responded and Harry pulled the duvet up over you some more, to protect your privacy even though you had set this up. Harry held his arm out over the duvet and exposed the fact he was not wearing any clothes up top. His tattooed chest poked perfectly out of the covers.

“It’s 1 A.M.” You whispered to him and he rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“Are you ready? We’re ready.” Michael spoke into his microphone, watching Harry sit up a little more in bed whilst making sure you were still tucked safely into his side. “Name 4 things you’d bake a cake with.”

“Uh, um. Shit.” Everyone laughed at how easy the question was, but because Harry was so startled awake his brain was barely functioning. “Eggs? Yeah? Okay, um flour? Sugar. Lemons. And uhhh…”

“That’s four, baby.” You told him, giving his hand that was wrapped around your waist under the covers a squeeze.

“Was that okay?” Harry questioned, scraping his hair back off the top of his head as it had fallen down when he’d peered down to look at you.

“Yes. That was perfect. Next question.” Michael started. “Who is this?”

Next thing Harry and you knew, Minnie Mouse walked through your bedroom door and waved at you energetically. Harry laughed, because he knew then that you had helped design this quiz because only you knew that he had had a crush on Minnie Mouse when he was younger. It was one of the reasons you and Harry dressed as Minnie and Mickey for Halloween one year.

“Minnie Mouse.” Harry responded, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers.

“Correct. Now, can you finish the lyrics to these Disney songs?” Michael started, making Harry groan because it would be now known how big a Disney princess fan he was. Minnie stayed in the room whilst this section began.

“Under the sea. Under the sea…” Michael spoke, before leaving Harry to continue the song. He rolled his eyes when he realised what part of the song he was supposed to finish.

“Down where it’s wetter, life is much better. Take it from me.” Harry spoke instead of sung, which that clip would later trend worldwide on Twitter and be commented on in every future interview.

You blushed as Harry spoke and he secretly pinched you to stay quiet.

“Brilliant. How about.. You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me…”

“When the road looks rough ahead and you’re miles and miles from your nice warm bed.” Harry finished it off, before Michael continued by singing.

“Y’just remember what your old pal said.”

“‘Cause you’ve got a friend in me. Yeah, you’ve got a friend in me.” Harry sang too, his voice extra raspy from the abrupt wake up call. You were nodding your head along and it was sweet that everyone in the room joined in on the last line.

Minnie then left the room and the game continued.

“Now, Harry. You are a singer, yes?

“Mostly.” He responded and Michael laughed his infamous laugh.

“Name Y/N’s 3 favourite songs of yours.”

“Oh easy.” Harry smiled, looking down at you with his dimples. “Little Freak, Fine Line and Sign of The Times.”

“Y/N is this correct?” Michael asked you, drawing your gaze away from Harry’s sleepy face and towards him. You could’ve stayed admiring Harry for hours, but you had to remember you were on camera now.

“Yes. It is.” You answered and Michael cheered for another right question.

“Harry, for this next one, can you please get out of bed and follow me to your bathroom. Quick, quick.” Michael waited for Harry to get out of bed, the camera capturing the end of Harry kissing you on the cheek, before he climbed out and pulled his pyjama bottoms higher up on his waist.

“Oh hang on. What have we here?” Michael pointed to Harry’s pyjama bottoms, making sure the camera zoomed in on them too. Harry immediately thought he had a boner and so cupped his hands over his balls, but it turned out Michael was highlighting the pink Barbie pyjamas instead.

You stayed in bed, smiling to yourself in admiration of your funny and loveable husband as he was led into the bathroom to take on the next challenge.

There was singing coming from this bathroom and he was told to wait outside the bathroom door.

“Now, who is singing in your shower?” Michael asked and the person began singing ‘Late Night Talking’. Harry instantly knew the voice and he had to give himself a few seconds to really think through whether this was real.

“Is it Stevie Nicks?” He asked rather than answered.

Michael opened the bathroom door and Harry watched as Stevie Nicks was pretending to shower in his shower, whilst singing ‘Late Night Talking’. He laughed with his chest, his eyes crinkling.

“It’s Stevie Nicks! Now get in the shower and finish the song together.”

The screen cut to a clip of Harry and Stevie singing the end of ‘Late Night Talking’ together, with Harry still only in his Barbie pyjamas and Stevie in a beautiful black dress. They looked ridiculous together, but it turned out to be a clip you would rewatch over and over again for pure humour. Harry hugged and kissed Stevie’s cheeks, before leaving the bathroom and returning to the bedroom.

You were sitting up now, waiting for him to come back and join you. Harry climbed into bed and crawled underneath the covers to meet you. He kissed you on your cheek again, before making you comfortable with your back pressed against his chest and his arm around your waist once more.

“Stevie was in our shower.” He whispered to you as Michael set himself up again. You laughed, because if you hadn’t known that was happening then you’d have thought he’d gone mad.

“Only a few more questions now Harry.”

Harry nodded in response and, even though he was having a funny evening, he couldn’t wait to get back to cuddling you to sleep again.

“You have acted in a Christopher Nolan movie before, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Name 3 other Christopher Nolan movies.”

“Inception. Interstellar. Uh. Um.. The Prestige.”

“Amazing, yes. And finally, Harry, can you name these people?” Michael held out some paper with different people’s faces on.

The first one he held up was his mum, Anne.

“That’s m’mum. Anne Twist.” He answered, smiling. When Michael confirmed he was correct, Anne then stepped through the bedroom door smiling. Harry went red in the face then, with his mum seeing him and you in bed together. Michael laughed as Harry tried to bury himself under the covers, only to be stopped by you.

“Is this also your mum, Harry?” Michael asked.

“Yeah. Hi mum.” Harry laughed.

“Hi baby.”

Anne stood at the end of the bed, like she’d been told to do by the TV crew, but Harry opened the covers for her, signalling that she could join them. Anne smiled as she walked around the bed and slipped off her shoes to join you both in bed. She laid down beside Harry and Harry wrapped his other arm around his mum’s shoulders to hug her and kiss her on the side of the head.

“Next one.” Michael held up the next piece of paper.

It was a picture of Niall Horan and Harry laughed. “That’s Niall.”

You all looked towards the door then and watched as Niall walked through. Harry tilted his head back to laugh and then removed his arms from you and Anne to greet Niall. Niall knelt on the bed and Harry sat up on his knees to greet him with a man hug. You waved at Niall and Niall gave you a wink back.

Harry moved back to where he was originally sitting and let Niall say hello to Anne, before sitting on that side of the bed with Anne.

“And the last one.” Michael said, holding up the final photo.

It was Florence Pugh.

“Flo!” Harry cheerily smiled, before Flo came running into the room and jumping on the bed in a starfish position.

Flo then greeted and introduced herself to everyone, giving you the greatest hug of all since you were best friends. Flo decided to lay her back against your front and you kept your hands in a hug over her.

You all looked at Michael as you awaited further instructions. You tilted your head onto Harry’s shoulder and his arm sneakily wrapped around your waist once more, careful not to touch Flo. Anne and Niall sat happily on the other side just watching on.

“Thank you for playing the Midnight Gameshow Harry and goodnight!” Michael shouted into his microphone, before the theme tune started to play and the lights went out.

A cameraman stayed in the room to film the after bit. Everyone was just sitting still, contemplating what to do next, withholding bursts of laughter.

“What now?” Harry asked.

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