#as for where harry is in all of this... um... yeah i have no idea

[freedomfireflies]

One Day*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you still hate Harry, but turns out, you might be having his baby.

Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, spanking, brief choking, slight angst (happy ending), mentions of pregnancy and babies! *Please be so gentle with yourself and only continue if you feel comfortable! 💞*

“I’m late.”

“For what?”

You huff. “I’m late,” you repeat, gesturing frantically toward your hips. “A week late. Which I know can happen, but…not really to me, so…I’m late. And I think we’re fucked.”

Harry blinks. Looks down at your stomach. Looks up at your face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You rear back. “That’s all you have to say for yourself is oh?”

He lifts his left shoulder in nonchalant shrug before flopping down onto your sofa. “I don’t know. What did you want me to say?”

“I…I don’t know,” you huff. “I kind of thought you’d…yell. Or freak out or something. Or ask me if I’m keeping it.”

“Do you want me to freak out?”

“Well…no. Not really.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I…I don’t know, I don’t even…I’m not even sure if I am yet or not.”

“Okay.” He nudges his glasses up before crossing his arms. “Well did you get a test?”

You glance toward the pharmacy bag still sitting on your kitchen counter. It’s been mocking you ever since you picked it up. Staring you down, sticking out its tongue. One, tiny little box that’ll determine the next chapter of your life. It’s almost infuriating. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I, um…got one on the way home from work.”

“Okay. Have you taken it yet?”

“Not…exactly.”

His brow raises. “Do you…need help or something?”

You scowl. “It’s peeing on a stick, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah, well, knowing you, you’d find a way to fuck it up.” He smirks. “Sure hope our baby gets my brains instead of yours.”

You grab the pillow beside him and give him a firm whack. “That’s not funny.”

He laughs as he winces. “Good. I wasn’t being funny.”

“Then, stop it. And stop being so calm.”

“You just said you preferred calm—”

“Well…it’s scaring me now. So what gives?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t really feel the need to waste a reaction on something we don’t even know is happening yet. Take the test and then I’ll freak out if you’d like.”

“You say that like someone that’s had a lot of pregnancy scares.”

He snorts. “No, I say that like someone who knows freaking out won’t exactly help you right now. So just take the goddamn test, Tinkerbell. And we’ll go from there.”

Unamused, but somehow slightly comforted, you oblige and snatch the box from the table before retreating to the bathroom.

Once the timer has been set, you slowly make your way back to him.

He’s still sitting on the sofa. Calm. Unaffected. Watching you without a care in the world. Like his whole life isn’t about to change. 

It drives you nuts.

“Five minutes,” you tell him.

He nods.

Warily, you sit in the chair to his left, staring holes through your shoes as your heart races inside your chest. You’re not sure how you got here. Not sure where you could possibly go. You aren’t ready for a baby. Not…yet. Especially not one with…him.

“Hey,” he calls, pulling your attention up. “S’the matter with you?”

Your eyes narrow. “What the hell do you think?”

Another casual shrug that makes your teeth grit. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” You lean back. “Why on Earth would I be happy about getting stuck with your DNA for the rest of my life?”

He smiles. “I don’t know. You just seem like the type of girl to want a lot of babies.”

You scoff. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” You don’t think.

“Really? Is that why you begged me to breed you?”

“I didn’t actually mean it. That’s just what you say in a moment like that.”

His eyebrow raises.

You hesitate. “Did…did you mean it?”

“Kind of,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, maybe I didn’t mean right this second, but…I don’t hate the idea.”

“You actually want to be a father?” You snort. “Bullshit. You hate kids. I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t hate kids, I just don’t care about them when they aren’t mine.” He throws his arm over the back of the chair and smirks. “I like my nieces, though. They’re chill.”

You blink. “You…you have nieces? Wait, you have siblings?”

“Yeah. One brother. He’s got two kids and they’re cute as shit.”

“Oh.” Your head starts to pound. “See? We can’t have a baby when I don’t even know anything about you.”

He chuckles to himself before nodding his chin at you. “All right, fine. Go ahead. Ask me whatever.”

“What?”

“Ask me what you wanna know.”

You think. “Okay. How often do you see your family?”

“Often enough. They live in California, and they work a lot. But we call every couple of weeks.”

“Oh. That’s…surprisingly nice. Uh…do you have a history of disease in your family?”

He grins. “Excuse me?”

“I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” You motion at him. “Answer.”

“This isn’t an interview—”

“Answer.”

“No,” he says. “Not that I know of anyway.”

“Great. Do you plan to be a deadbeat father?”

His eyes roll. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

“So, yes? You do? Oh, great—”

“No, because that’s not a fair fucking question—”

“It is a fair question. If I have to raise this baby alone, I want to know—”

“Of course you wouldn’t fucking be alone. Do you really think so little of me—”

“I don’t think about you at all. How am I supposed to know what you’ll do—”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he nearly snaps. He takes a breath to calm himself before adding, “Even if it wasn’t my baby, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Your lashes flutter and you can feel your heart lodging in your throat. “Fine. Last question.”

He waits.

“Did you ever want kids…before? With…her?”

He doesn’t have to think for very long, but the mention of her makes him smile. “Nah. We talked about it, but we weren’t ready. We liked it being just us, you know? We had a bunch of shit we wanted to do. We were a long way from babies and a white picket fence.”

You try to blink back the tears swimming their way to your eye. You can still see that beautiful picture of her in his room. An entire future of love and life and adventures that he lost. Now…he’s stuck with you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You swipe your knuckle along your cheek. “So, you probably still aren’t ready.”

“I didn’t say that.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Harry, come on. You aren’t ready for a baby. I’m not ready for a baby. We…we don’t know each other, we don’t like each other…we can’t do this. You know that.”

“Do I?” He leans forward. “It’s a baby, not a bomb. I think we can handle it.”

“Well, I don’t. You don’t even like me. You can’t have a baby with me.”

“Why not? People do it all the time.”

“But not us.” You give him a firm stare. “Harry, we love our jobs. We want careers, not kids. So having a baby kind of gets in the way of that. There’s…there’s diaper changes, and teething, and potty training—”

“So?”

“So. We don’t work together well. In fact, it’s a rather well-known fact that we don’t get along. We can’t possibly raise a kid. We’d ruin it.” You study him for a beat, unnerved by the nonchalance in his tone. “Why do I get the feeling you actually want this to be real?”

Another shrug and you nearly lunge at him. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees while he glances at the floor. “I’m older now. Maybe it’s time to…think about settling down.”

Your face scrunches. “Ew. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He laughs. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, but…maybe it could be a good thing.”

You stand from your chair and pace the length of your small living room. “This is crazy. This is crazy. I can’t have a baby, I’m…I’m not ready. I’m too young, I…I don’t even know what I’d do with one. Or if I even have a maternal instinct.”

“Probably not,” Harry offers, smirking when you glare. “You won’t really know until you have one.”

“Oh, great.”

“Listen, if you feel like you aren’t ready…we can find another alternative,” he says, softening his voice. “Okay? There are plenty of other options and we’ll find one you feel comfortable with.”

A tad wary of his sympathetic answer, you eye him closely. “Yeah? And what if we disagree?”

“We won’t,” he says calmly. “Your body, your decision.”

“Right,” you snort. “I’m sure.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t be the one having to carry it.” He nods as though to reassure you. “Honestly, Tink. This would be your decision, one hundred percent. It’s not mine to make. Just to support.”

The tears rush a little faster as you sniffle and step closer. “You say that now, but what if I decide something you don’t like?”

“I will like it. I promise,” he murmurs, standing up in order to move toward you. “If you want to keep it, great. If you don’t, great.”

“I…I…” You suck in a deep breath, unable to slow the wild racing in your chest. “Fuck, I can’t…I don’t know—”

“Hey, okay, easy. Easy, Princess,” he says, quickly reaching out to take you in his arms and ease you against his chest. “Relax. Okay? Just breathe. Breathe for me.”

“I…I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can. You are.” His lips press to the top of your head while his hand runs up and down your back soothingly. “I’m right here. Do you hear me? I’m right here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone. I promise.”

You squeeze your arms together and hold on with everything you have. Right now, he feels like your only anchor in the world. The only person strong enough to carry you both through to the other side. And for the first time since you met him…you feel glad that he’s here.

The two of you stand in the middle of the room for a long while before he finally murmurs, “I think it’s been five minutes.”

Your eyes close and you grip his shirt in your first. “I’m…I’m not ready to look.”

“Okay.” You can hear the smile in his response. “Okay, we can wait.”

So, you do as the truth starts to build in your chest. Inescapable, no matter how hard you try to swallow it down.

Finally, you can’t help but whisper, “You know what scares me the most?”

“Hm?”

“…that maybe I’m hoping it’s real.”

The apartment falls silent again. He doesn’t push you to elaborate, but you can feel his heart beating just a little faster inside his chest.

“I don’t know why,” you continue. “I don’t…I really don’t think I’m ready, but…but what if I should be? What if…what if we met and we started this because…because we were supposed to do this?”

He considers this. “Like fate.”

“Yeah.” You roll your lips into your mouth. “Because I still hate you. I do. I just…I’m starting to get this picture in my head of us. Being a family. Having a big house in a good school district. Tucking them into bed at night and reading them stories. Which is…dumb.”

“No,” he mumbles. “No, it’s not dumb. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because I meant what I said, I’d love to get you pregnant. You’d look really fucking hot.”

You chuckle. “Yes, so you’ve mentioned.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh…okay?”

He smirks. “I never had a breeding kink until I met you.”

You lean back and swat your hand across his chest. “You’re so annoying.”

“What? I’m being serious.” He grins and those dimples pop free. God, you hope your kids have his dimples—

No. Nope. You aren’t going there.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the thought. “Whatever. You’re just horny.”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.” His gentle gaze sweeps across your face. “If you wanna do this…we’ll do it. You and me. We’ll have this baby, and we’ll raise it to be really smart, and funny, and to not take shit from anybody.”

You laugh, brushing away a few more tears. “Maybe we can teach it to write code.”

“Oh, fucking obviously.”

The two of you smile before the excitement seems to fizzle and Harry’s brows pull together.

“You know I don’t actually hate you, right?” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I know that’s our thing, and I know you said it earlier, but…I don’t actually hate you. This baby wouldn’t grow up with two parents that don’t like each other.”

“Oh…I…I know.”

“Good. Because I don’t want that to be one of the reasons you think we can’t do it. I’d fucking love that baby. And I’d love you for carrying it.”

Instantly, you both seem to still. The four-letter word sounds so loud inside such a small room.

I’d love you.

He clears his throat, shifting a bit as he glances toward the kitchen. “I mean, I’d…I’d appreciate you for carrying it—”

“No, yeah, I know,” you stammer. “I know what you mean.”

“Good. Yeah.”

The two of you fall quiet again before you softly admit, “I think I’m ready to look.”

“Okay.” He squeezes your hip. “I’m right here.”

You take in a deep breath before begrudgingly pulling yourself out of his arms. You already miss his warmth and the way he felt like home and your stomach turns as you slip into the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you reach for the stick that sits on the edge of your sink. And in those three seconds, an entire lifetime flashes before your eyes. 

The good, the bad, and the everything in-between. You see a house and a dog and a big backyard. You see two little kids rolling in the grass and jumping into the pool. You hear them begging for a bedtime story and crying when they scrape their knee.

You see a dozen birthdays and holidays and visits to the zoo. You see their heartbreaks and triumphs, their successes and letdowns. You see a million goodnight kisses and cuddles on the couch. 

And then…you see Harry.

In every picture, every moment. Taking them to their first baseball game and picking them up from their first dance. Sneaking them into R-rated movies even after you explicitly said no and feeding them far too much candy and popcorn.

You see him teach your son how to tie a tie and dance with your daughter as she stands on his feet. You see him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, flour all over his face. You see him curled up in bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair. You hear him tell you how happy he is. How glad that he found you.

It’s a beautiful life. Even if it’s not the one you imagined for yourself. And in that moment, you decide that it doesn’t matter what the test says. If that’s your future, so be it. 

As long as you get to live it with him.

“So?” Harry calls from the hall.

You swallow thickly and slowly glance down.

Negative.

Negative.

No baby. No pregnancy. No white-picket fence.

You stare at the test for at least a full minute. You aren’t sure how you feel. Relieved. Disappointed. Upset. Thankful. Confused.

“Tink?”

You turn around. “Uh…it’s negative,” you report, handing it to him. “False alarm. I guess I’m just late.”

He glances over the stick with a rather blank expression before looking at you. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. This is definitely the better outcome. I’m just…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the idea.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, handing it back. “I know.”

You throw the test away. “Sorry for making you come all the way over here for that.”

“Hey, whoa—” He strides into the bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’d be here.”

“I just…I wasted your time. I should have taken it before I called you—”

“Tink,” he sighs, taking your cheeks in his hands. “Stop. You can always call me for shit like this.” He looks at you, then amends, “You can always me. For anything. You know that.”

A tear slips from your eye without warning, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. This is what I wanted—”

“I know,” he says gently. “I know. It’s hard.”

“Yeah.” You hiccup. “But this is good, right? This is better?”

For a moment, he says nothing. He simply stares at you with a rather sympathetic expression. Or maybe it’s forlorn. Maybe he’s disappointed. Upset that you aren’t giving him what he wants.

Then, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “This is good,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “We would have figured it out. And you would have been a wonderful mom. But I know you. And I know you aren’t ready. Not yet.”

You close your eyes and melt into the feel of his palms against your skin. Into the way he reassures you and protects you all in the same breath. You never thought you’d feel so safe in the serenity of his touch, but here you are. Wishing for him to hold you forever.

“And when we are ready, we’ll do it on our terms,” he says. “Okay?”

Slowly, you nod. “This is good,” you repeat to yourself. “It is. Really. Things are going great at work, I’m finally secure financially, and even you and I are…kind of getting along.”

He smirks.

“This is good. This is better.” You repeat the mantra until you really believe it. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been a very good pregnant woman anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’d be really cranky. Or needy. My ankles would get all swollen and I’d be hot all the time and nauseous and miserable. I’d probably try to kill you.”

“Oh, you’d definitely try to kill me. You try to kill me even when you aren’t pregnant.”

You gasp. “Rude.”

“What?” He chuckles again before his eyes slowly start to rake down your frame. “But I don’t know. I think it’ll be better than you think.”

You swat him again. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to picture it.”

“Why? I told you, you’d look fucking hot.”

“Yeah…no.”

However, he only nods, moving in to subtly brush his lips against yours. “You would. Be so fucking beautiful carrying our baby. With your tits all swollen and your belly getting bigger every day.”

Truthfully, the image almost makes you grimace, but there’s something about the way he says it. The way he talks about you so reverently. A soft, sultry murmur that goes straight to your cunt. Because you know he’s not just saying it to say it. He means it. Believes it. Would do anything for it.

He tilts your head back, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And I think you like it,” he exhales. “I think you like the idea of holding me inside you. Having a part of me. Knowing that I did it to you. No one else.”

You suck in a soft breath, knees going just a bit weak. “Harry…”

“What, baby?” His mouth ghosts along your neck. “Are you thinking about it? Thinking about how pretty your tummy would look with me inside it?”

He’s evil. Absolutely evil, and you clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain control of yourself. “Do you…have a pregnancy kink I don’t know about?” 

His lips quirk up. “Apparently.”

“Mm.” Your lashes flutter and the urge to kiss him grows stronger. “You know…some women get really horny when they’re pregnant.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle it.”

He scoffs. “Oh, no?”

You shake your head. “I mean, do you really think you could keep up? Going for hours and hours on end? Trying to keep me satiated with your poor, limp little dick?”

He makes another noise, and you tsk.

“I mean, you can barely satisfy me now as it is. But if I was pregnant? Pfft. Forget it.”

Instantly, he’s snatching hold of your hips and yanking you against his chest. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Princess,” he nearly growls. “I’ll bend you over right now.”

“No, I don’t think you will,” you retort. “You’ve gone soft on me. Rubbing my back, kissing my hair. You wanna take care of me and honestly? It’s a little pathetic.”

His head cocks rather deviously and your pulse begins to skip. He could split you in half if he wanted to and you both know it. 

But that’s what you need right now. You don’t want to be coddled or looked after. You wanna be fucked. Tortured and teased until you’re begging for release.

You want an escape.

And in that moment, Harry decides to give you one.

He picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom while your legs quickly work to hook to his hips for stability and your arms snake around his neck.

He ignores your squeals and teasing huffs of annoyance, instead dropping you onto your mattress with a soft thud.

You glare and push up onto your elbows. “You know, you don’t have to manhandle me—”

“Shut up.”

He surges forward, lips gliding against yours as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. And kissing is easy with him. As easy breathing, like you’ve done it all your life. You know exactly what he likes, what he wants. And you give it him.

His glasses are cold against your face, keeping him from getting as close as he’d like, and after a moment, he huffs, and rips them off before tossing them aside. And even though you adore when he wears them, you happen to adore being near him even more.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, scratching down his neck. He has the added advantage of being on top, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from turning to putty in your hands. Clay for you to mold to your liking. 

No matter how dominant he tries to be, he’s simply a man that needs to be told what to do. Taken care of. Shown. 

And you happen to like showing him.

You feel him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathes between carnal nips to your throat. “I want this off, Tink.”

Happy to oblige, you push him back so you can lift yourself up before you peel the fabric from your chest. You take your time with the bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms oh so slowly. You don’t rush to reveal yourself to him, instead letting him anticipate you. Until his heart is racing and his eyes are darkening and he’s resisting the urge to do it himself.

But once he can finally see you, he nearly groans. “Oh, good fucking girl.” 

He resumes his work. More kisses are left to the warm, tender skin, and he happily sucks bruises into each swell and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue. His hands are greedy—ravenous. Pulling at your flesh, clawing his way along your frame. 

When he reaches your thighs, you whimper. You’ve missed the way he touches you. The way he pries your legs apart and makes a home between.

In a rush, he snaps your panties off into his fist and you toss him a punishing glare.

He smiles.

You rid each other of your remaining clothes in a frantic fashion until they’re nothing more than a dirty pile on the floor. Messy and familiar. Fated.

He drops down onto the bed back first, effortlessly swapping positions as you’re placed in a straddle over his waist.

“Good girl, let me see you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your jaw. “Go ahead.”

You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, running it along your cunt before teasing yourself with the tip. 

“Didn’t stretch you,” he mumbles, leaving a few stray kisses to your collarbone. “S’might hurt, so—”

You push him in, simultaneously sinking down in an effort to feel a more prominent burn., and you both make a rather lewd noise as the grip on your chin tightens.

“Tink,” he hisses with a punishing look of his own. “Careful—”

You drop yourself further, muscles tensing around the thickness until your thighs begin to shake.

“Hey—” He forces your eyes on his. “Enough. Be gentle, m’not gonna hurt you—”

“I want you to,” you pant. “Please. I need it. I…fuck, Har, I need it. Please…please.”

He’s still frowning but his expression softens. “Baby…not like this. Maybe we should wait until you’re feeling better—"

“No,” you whimper. Desperate. Fraught. “Harry, please, don’t stop. Don’t make me stop—”

“Hey, easy, easy.” He pulls your forehead to his. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

You try to obey. Try to suck in a strangled gasp of air but it’s useless. He’s gonna take himself from you. He’s gonna leave, and you’ll be empty, and alone, and maybe he won’t ever touch you again—

He places his palm on your chest, right over your heart. “Breathe,” he says again. Soft. Quiet. “In then out. Good girl, just like that.”

You follow the sound of his voice. Mimic his inhales and exhales until the two of you fall into a synchronized rhythm. 

“Good,” he says again, rubbing his other hand along your back. “There you go. You’re all right, I’ve got you. Yeah?”

Weakly, you nod. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…I—”

“Shh.” He kisses your nose. “You’re okay, Tink. I know.”

A long moment passes before you finally feel in control of your own heart again and once you blink the fog from your eye, you see him. Delicate and strong at the same time.

He sweeps his thumb along your lip. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you admit. “Really, I just…I needed to feel you. And I wanted to…move on, I guess. Think about something else. Lose myself for a bit.”

He sighs but nods his understanding. “You could have told me that.”

“I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing things with you.”

“I know,” he echoes with a small grin. “But we’ll learn, yeah?”

Your gaze grows suspicious. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he says simply. “If we’re gonna make a bunch of hot, smart babies one day, we’re gonna have to communicate.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, that won’t be for a while.”

“Fine. Just gives us more time to practice.”

Your eyes narrow. “You really have gone soft on me, haven’t you? All because you thought I was pregnant."

He laughs, fingers slipping around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. “I’d argue I’m actually quite hard right now.”

“Ha. Funny.”

“I can hate you and like you at the same time, right?” he teases. “Because I think that’s my sweet spot. Wanting to kill you and fuck you all at once.”

“Agreed. You’re insufferable but you’re also one of my favorite people. Which only makes you more insufferable.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I think we earned a little civility, no?”

You nod and take his lip between your teeth. “And I think we should celebrate with an orgasm.”

He laughs again. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

You dance your kisses down his chest, enjoying the way his head drops back while he sighs at the feel of your tongue. He’s so beautiful and so good and if you’re going to lose yourself, you want to lose yourself in him.

Leaning back, brace your hands behind you on his knees, and start to bounce yourself on his cock. Over and over, faster and faster, until he’s grabbing onto your hips and giving them a firm, encouraging squeeze to help you along.

Your tits bounce right in his face, and he takes advantage of his front row seat, allowing his hands to trace and tease your nipples as you whine. He sucks them into his mouth and pulls them with his teeth. It sends chills along your spine and goosebumps along your arms and when he notices, he smirks.

 Not even a minute later, he’s pulling you down so your chest meets his. His hands land on your ass with a firm grip and he drags you along his cock. Slow and sensual until your eyes flutter shut, and you disappear into the building pleasure.

You feel his kisses on your ribcage as he begins to thrust up into you. Returning to the pace you previously set until you’re both chasing that familiar high. 

“There you go,” he praises through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah, just like that—”

“Harry,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his hair. “Shit, please—”

“I know.” He leaves another kiss to the inside of your arm before he smacks your left ass cheek. “I got you, Princess. S’okay. Keep going.”

You grind yourself over his lap, knees hugging his waist as you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Needy. Anxious. You match each other’s rhythm and it’s a dance. An effortless fluidity that brings you closer than ever before.

Then, he sucks two fingers into your mouth, and moves them between your cheeks. He grazes them over your tighter hole, gently teasing them over the other entrance before dropping them down to where his cock is fucking into your cunt. He plays with you a bit, pushing you just a bit closer while you wail—depraved—and beg for more.

“My good girl,” he praises. He spanks you again. “Fuck—that’s it, baby.”

Your staccato whimpers are consistent now. One for every thrust and you can almost taste his desperation as he turns his head in order to kiss your cheek. The sound of skin against skin is crude and delicious. The way your body slides against his. Like butter on a hot day, melting together.

He goes faster, pulls you harder. Fingers digging into your skin so hard it almost hurts. But in the best possible way. In turn, you brace yourself with a palm on his throat. Squeezing it tight as you start to get closer. 

“Yeah,” he groans. “Shit…harder—”

You obey, pinching the sides of his neck until his eyes roll back. 

You can feel his heart racing against yours. You’re both warm. Hot. Shaking. A tangled mess of limps and depraved grinding like animals in heat.

“M’almost…m’almost there,” you whisper.

He nods, looking down your body to watch the way your ass bounces in his hands. “Go. S’okay, go. Let me feel you.”

He leaves more kisses to your side and the tender way his lips feel against your skin makes your brain go fuzzy. 

You grip his throat a bit tighter and just like that…it’s over.

The two of you cum together, the room filling with moans and gasps and promises. He settles beneath you while you ride out the rest of your high but he makes sure to keep his arm around you through every second.

Once you finally catch your breath, he hums. “God-fucking-damn.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns to see you. “I think I’m pregnant.”

You roll your eyes with a swat to his chest but you’re laughing. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you still like me.”

“I never said that.”

“You said I’m your favorite person.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.”

“Right.” He helps you ease him out before he’s flipping you around and moving himself between your legs.   

You blink. “What the hell are you doing?”

He lifts two fingers and eases them along your swollen pussy. Collecting the white, sticky substance already leaking out before easily pushing it back in.

“Harry,” you scold. “I think we’ve had enough breeding for one day.”

He smirks. “Relax, Tink, m’not breeding you. I just…like to see it drip out.”

Your heart leaps. “…oh.”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh in order to watch. “S’always so fucking pretty.”

You reach down and card your fingers through his sweaty curls. Happy and content for the first time in days.

He looks up. “One day,” he promises, even though it sounds more like a question.

But somehow, in this moment, it makes everything else worth it.

You grin.

“One day.”

AAA I can’t believe we finally did it!! I’m not gonna lie them being soft with each other is gross 😭 BUT ALSO CUTE!! YAY PROGRESS!!

Thank you so much for reading and for always being so nice!! 🥹💞💞 and of course thank you for the amazing idea hehe

Also, if you see any mistakes……no you don’t 🫶

~  Full 404 Masterlist

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[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY PRIDE!!!

Could you, pretty please, write more of the Draco in the muggle world or Draco and the twins take down Voldemort AU?

Love your writings!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

George watches anxiously as Harry closes his eyes and Tori leans over him. He really, really hopes this works. They don't exactly have a backup plan if it doesn't.

Things are uncomfortably silent. He'd imagined this soul sucking business to be a lot more dramatic, but they can't see much under the large hood of Tori's pink robe and neither of them are making a sound.

Then she's drifting back and Harry's blinking rapidly.

"Did it work?" Ron asks anxiously, stepping forward to grab Harry's shoulders and shaking him. "Are you okay? How was it?"

"Wet," Harry says, eyes finally focusing. "I don't feel any different. Wait - my scar doesn't hurt anymore. Does that mean it worked?"

They turn to Tori, who gives a thumbs up. The dull gray of her skin has turned a shimmering silver now that she's consumed each piece of Voldemort's soul. All the dementors that had come to Hogwarts had sickly grey-black skin where it wasn't scabbed over. He wonders if that means they sent starving dementors to a school full of children and what idiot thought that was a good idea.

"Is it over then?" Fred asks uncertainly. "Voldemort's dead? For good?"

They all look towards Voldemort's soulless body that's still passed out on the couch.

Hermione raises her gun. Two shots and a smattering of brain matter later, she says, "Yeah."

"You seriously couldn't have waited to do that?" Draco complains. At least the polyjuice as worn off and he's wearing his own face again. "That settee is from the seventeen hundreds. It's going to take more than scourgify to get that out."

"Um," Harry says. "Okay. Well - should we. Tell someone?"

Draco waves a hand. "Yeah, sure, just leave me out of it."

"Leave you out of it?" Ron repeats incredulously. "You killed Voldemort and you don't even want the credit?"

"Technically, Tori did that - much obliged, Tori," he says, and she gives a bobbing head nod in acknowledgement. "And it was more of a team effort. Besides, no, I have a reputation to maintain if you've forgotten. I wanted Voldemort to stop hitting on my mother, now he won't, so this really doesn't have anything to do with me now." He frowns. "Besides getting the settee cleaned before dad notices. He'll go spare."

George thinks he might be more upset about the dead dark lord, but who knows with the Malfoys. Draco didn't turn out like this out of nowhere.

"You've been working to defeat Voldemort," Hermione says slowly, "because he was flirting with your mother?"

"Like that wouldn't be enough for you," he scoffs.

Ew.

Ron scrunches his face, then says, "Fair enough. But that still doesn't change how we're supposed to, um, handle this."

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm taking Tori back to the island. You guys figure that out."

"I'll come with you," George says eagerly, dodging Fred's hand when he tries to hold him back. He waits until it's just three of them to ask, "Do you really not have a plan for this part?"

Draco grins at him, wide enough that George can see the dimple on his left cheek. "Let's see what they come up with. I can't be the only one doing the heavy lifting around here."

"Okay," he says, wondering if now that Voldemort's dead, Draco will kiss him.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Stinky Daddy /concept/

AN: i'm almost finished proofreading part. 14 of my housemate series. that should be out sometime this week. but for now, enjoy this little concept i came up with. make sure to leave your feedback. thank you! xoxo

This story contains: mentions of popping, slight swearing, fluff

{ husband!harry - dadrry - soft!harry - au!harry }

word count- 416

Harry runs out of toilet paper and when he calls out for you to bring him some more, he's surprised when your two year old daughter brings him some instead.

"Y/N, could you please bring me some toilet paper?" you hear Harry call from the master bathroom, reaching you in your daughter's bedroom. Finding humor in his forgetfulness, you devise a clever idea.

In a kneeling position, you kindly ask your two-year-old daughter, "Lucy, do you want to help daddy by bringing him some toilet paper?" She nods in agreement, and so you lead her to the hallway where the storage closet is found. You select a roll of toilet paper and give it to Lucy.

She runs off in the direction of your bathroom and you stand outside the door to hear their interaction.

Just as Harry was calling for you again, believing you might not have heard him the first time, little Lucy walks through the door with precisely what he needed. Thankfully, he has his hand positioned to shield himself, preventing his daughter from seeing anything she shouldn't see.

"To-paper, daddy?" Lucy asks, walking up to the toilet where Harry sits.

"Yeah baby, daddy needs some toilet paper." She hands him the roll and just stands there, not comprehending that he requires privacy for this task. "Um, why don't you go find mummy, okay. I'll be out in just a minute."

"Oh-tay, bye daddy. Love you."

With a light laugh, he replies back, "I love you too, m'love." Once she's left, he wraps up his business and steps out of the bathroom, only to find you and little Lucy having fun on the bed. Harry steps closer and whispers in your ear, "Why did you send our daughter into the bathroom with the toilet paper? Good thing I was already coverin' m'cock, or she could have seen me."

You honestly hadn't thought of that but are happy he was already covering himself. Shrugging, you answer, "I donno. Thought it'd be funny to send our daughter in. She came back holding her nose, saying, 'stinky daddy.'"

Harry laughs out loud. "Yeah, obviously. I was taking a shit. It wasn't gonna smell like roses."

Lucy looks up at her daddy and repeats to his face, "Stinky."

With his hands freshly cleaned, Harry leans over the toddler and begins to tickle her, quipping, "Yeah, well your poop doesn't smell delightful either. I can attest to that, havin' changed your rather smelly diapers, little one." The laughter from Lucy, spurred by the tickling, creates a ripple effect, leading to shared laughter among all three of you, as you enjoy a cherished family moment on the bed.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg

[1d1195]

Tuesday

I’m a sucker for protective Harry and exes to lovers sort of vibes.

Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept.

She was sitting in the coffee shop looking at her phone. Scrolling through the contacts was making her more anxious. It wasn’t super late—only nine. But it was dark out in the dead of winter and on Tuesday no less. She had class in the morning, and she didn’t want to bother anyone because she knew they had classes in the morning too.

When she closed this evening, she got a weird vibe from the guy hovering in the corner of the shop who kept asking her when she got off her shift and if she wanted to hang out afterwards. At the time she wasn’t alone, but she assured her coworker she would be fine—and was now regretting it. Something in the pit of her stomach was making her nervous. She didn’t want to go outside to her car, but it seemed a little dramatic.

So, she was scrolling through her (admittedly, not so very many) contacts deciding mentally if anyone was close enough that she was willing to bother. She was scrolling her way back to the top after her initial run through getting increasingly nervous as she crept back toward the A’s. If she made it back to the top, she wasn’t sure what she’d do at that point.

But it was the H’s that caught her attention.

“Fuck,” she whispered to literally no one but herself. Putting her hand on her forehead, she sighed. She didn’t want to call him. It had been two years since she last spoke to him. The chances of him even inhabiting the same apartment, a mere five-minute drive away, let alone the same town after he graduated and got a real job were slim to none. Plus, the idea he would answer her phone call at nine on a Tuesday night seemed downright laughable.

Honestly though, he was her only hope.

Biting her lip, she clicked on his name. It almost felt foreign. But something deep within her found it felt so familiar it was impossible to not feel at ease just listening to the sound of the phone ringing knowing he would be at the other end (if he would answer).

“Hello?” He asked. His voice sounded confused. She wasn’t surprised at his tone. It was insane for her to call him.

“Harry,” she said simply.

“Uh...hi, love,” it sounded loud wherever he was. She should have known Harry would be with people and living his life.

“Hi,” she said softly.

It was quiet for a moment other than the sound of whatever Harry was doing in the background. She thought about the last time they spoke. It had to have been right about when things ended. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but they didn’t really stay in touch. She saw pictures and updates on social media but Harry wasn’t all that active. She had no way of knowing a whole lot about his personal life—if he was seeing anyone...or anything like that.

“Love?” He said and the noise seemed to fade in the background of his concerned voice. “Y’okay?” He asked.

“Um...” she shook her head trying to remain focused and remember why she called her ex-boyfriend. “Er...yeah. M’fine...it’s just...” she sighed. “M’sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I’m just...I’m at work and...well I’m trying to leave but there was this guy and I got a weird feeling. But it’s stupid...and I just...there’s no one I know nearby, and I thought if you were still at your place close by then...” she shook her head hearing how ridiculous this all sounded. Bothering Harry on a Tuesday night for something that might not even happen. Her heart was fluttering. This was ridiculous. “Harry, I’m so sorry. This was a stupid phone call. There’s nothing wrong. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll be fine,” she said firmly gathering her belongings in her arms and steeling herself for the cold walk outside to her car.

“Oh...hey...” he frowned as he held the phone to his ear. “S’alright love. You’re not a bother,” he promised. “Are...are you inside still?” He asked. She could hear a flurry of movement on his end. There was a rustling of keys, and a few calls in the distance were yelled but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Yeah...but really, it’s fine. It’s late and I’m being ridiculous. I’m just going to—”

“M’still nearby,” he said quickly interrupting her. “Jus’...wait five minutes. I’ll be right there.”

For a moment she stilled and silenced her rationale and the convoluted reasoning in her head. “Really?” She asked, feeling relief course through her body. She didn’t even realize how stressed she was about the situation. The brave front for Harry slowly seemed to dissipate. There was no way she could know that Harry also recognized the worry in her voice.

“’Course, love,” he said easily. They were both quiet for a moment and she could hear the jingling of Harry’s keys, the unlocking of his car. “D’you want me t’stay on the phone with you?” He wondered.

She nodded, feeling comforted by Harry just breathing. Someone was coming to her rescue, even if she was being ridiculous. She didn’t even realize she nodded. But Harry didn’t get off the phone despite not knowing her answer. It was weird to be so content with Harry silently coming to her. With her eyes closed, she could almost picture Harry’s route. Hearing his blinker, the sound of the road...it was almost too much for her. Him just coming to her without so much as a real reason—just a feeling—was heartwarming. It made her miss him all over again.

When they dated, Harry was nothing less than perfect. He did everything with the utmost respect and chivalry. He was an amazing boyfriend and she adored him more than any other boyfriend she ever had. It broke her heart when they ended their relationship, truly. She reminded herself it wasn’t a bad break up. It was mature. They grew apart and Harry graduated, and things were ending. But she was still in school. Granted, now she was on the last of her classes and graduating the coming spring. Harry was out in the real world these last two years being perfect for whoever he worked for and for whoever he was dating.

“Hey love?” He asked gently. Her thoughts pulled back to the present. “M’parking right now. M’gonna come to the front, yeah? I’ll knock, okay?”

She nodded again, making her way from the back of the shop toward the front door. She could see Harry, phone pressed to his ear, looking just as she remembered him. Tall, lanky, and handsome as could be. Always. If she wasn’t so nervous, she would have ogled him for longer. She unlocked the door and let Harry in. “Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” he replied. “You alright, love?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she didn’t sound alright, though.

He glanced out the doorway and his brow creased in the middle. He looked highly annoyed. “M’glad you called,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” her voice was so small and quiet. She looked nervously through the front window seeing Harry’s car closest to the shop. “Would you mind walking me to my car?”

He nodded. “Course, love,” he promised easily.

“You really didn’t have to come,” she said. It was a phrase that sounded like she should be annoyed—even though she was the one that asked him here, in so many words. But Harry knew her. He knew she wasn’t annoyed. He knew she was scared and didn’t want to be a bother. She was annoyed that she bothered him, if anything.

He shook his head. “Nonsense, love. Don’t mind at all,” he kept glancing out the window then he turned his attention back to her. “M’gonna...” he rolled his lips into his mouth and then sighed. “Kitten, m’gonna hold you, alright?” He said softly. She glanced out the window again, trying to see around Harry, but he stepped in her view. It wasn’t good. He must have been out there. A shiver ran up her back and she let out a small, nervous noise that came from deep in her soul. “Don’t worry,” he shook his head quickly and kept her from seeing. He took her bag off her shoulder and put it on his own. She had her keys in her hand and she swallowed. “M’here,” he promised. “M’not going anywhere.”

*

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing his side fully to hers as they walked toward his car parked right next to hers. They were silent except for Harry quietly whispering directions toward her. “Are you alright t’drive?” She nodded silently. Harry opened her driver’s door. He waited for her to sit, and he physically blocked her view outside the door. “Are y’sure y’can drive?” She nodded. “Are y’still at the same place?” She nodded again.

Harry reached past her to settle her bag on her passenger seat.

“Love?” He questioned again. He was hesitant to ask his next question but the way she looked so nervous and scared had him reeling.

It also didn’t help there was a creep a mere 30 meters away from them waiting for her like she was bait. She turned to look at him, her breath shaky, her hands kept shaking too as they reached for her steering wheel.

“Y-yeah?”

“I want you t’come t’my place, yeah?”

She felt scared so she just nodded. “Okay.”

“Kitten, m’not gonna let anything happen t’you, okay? I promise.”

“Okay,” she nodded again but it felt a lot more right this time.

Pressing the lock button on her door, he gave her arm a gentle squeeze as she turned her car on. “M’gonna follow you so wait until m’in the car,” he said softly. She nodded once more.

*

Harry was fuming about all of it. Seeing her name pop up on his phone made him confused and worried. But nothing prepared him for the feeling of helplessness and worry he actually felt when he went to the coffee shop and saw her car and a one other car waiting for her to exit work. He hadn’t spoken to her in two years, but he didn’t want to think about what he would do if he found out something terrible happened to her. As he started his car looking toward her waiting to go Harry waved to her to indicate he was good to go.

Harry would murder him if he followed them.

Harry spoke to his phone. “Call Niall.”

The phone rang twice before he answered. “Harry, where did y’go?” Niall asked curiously.

“Everyone needs to leave,” Harry said.

“Harry, what are—”

“I don’t care what y’tell them, everyone needs t’be gone in the next three minutes.”

“Harry—”

“Niall! Jus’ get them out!”

“Okay, okay,” Niall said with a tone of defensiveness in his voice. “I’ll get them out.”

“Thank you, I’ll explain when I get there.”

Harry glanced in his rearview mirror and didn’t see anyone following him. But now Harry was paranoid, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He called her again. “Hello?” She asked tentatively.

“Hey love. When y’park, I don’t want y’to get out. I’ll come around t’you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Harry?” She whispered.

“Yeah, love?”

“Thank you,” the gratefulness was so thick on her voice Harry could have cried. What if he didn’t see her call? Or what if he decided not to answer? He was worried about things that weren’t but the idea of something happening to her made him feel sick.

“M’really glad you called,” he promised.

She didn’t say anything again. He felt so bad she was so nervous and worked up. She wasn’t one to need saving. She usually did most of the saving her friend group. She was the one with an extra hair tie or a stain stick at restaurants. She never let anyone be hungry or thirsty. If someone didn’t have medicine handy, they could ask her. She was the one that did the saving. She wasn’t the one that needed it. Rarely did she ever ask for help. Asking Harry was not only huge for her, but it meant she really needed it.

When she started downplaying how nervous she was on the phone, Harry thought how terrifying it was that she never needed anyone. Especially for a situation like this. He thought for two seconds what would have happened if her instincts were right, if Harry did ignore her worries, or if she convinced him that she was alright.

Harry quickly brushed those thoughts aside. “Do y’want me t’stay on the phone?” He asked her this earlier. Just like before there was no answer, but he knew she nodded. So, he stayed quietly on the phone listening to her breathing, the sound of her directional, and the road.

There were several cars passing as they pulled up toward Harry and Niall’s place. Harry was grateful Niall got everyone out. “Okay, love, stay put,” he said hanging up as he hurried out of his parked car to her driver’s seat.

Niall was standing on the front stoop waiting to see what Harry was so worked up about. When Harry opened the driver’s door and ushered her out Niall finally understood. “Must have skipped my last eye appointment, is that you princess?” Niall said cheerfully and hurried to give her a hug. It was a bit awkward though because Harry wouldn’t release one of her hands.

“D’you need anything else?” He asked ignoring Niall’s greeting.

“Uh...there’s a bag in my trunk,” she said softly. “I can get it in a minute—” Harry finally released her hand and headed back for her car.

“What brings you here this evening?” Niall asked.

“Oh...uh...” she swallowed. “It was nothing really,” she said shyly. Niall glanced at Harry’s embittered expression. He could see it halfway across their yard while she looked at the ground before looking back at Niall. “I actually think I overreacted and I didn’t know who else to call—”

“She did not overreact,” Harry said simply closing her car up and then coming to her to put a hand on her lower back. He ushered her toward the door. “She’s gonna stay tonight,” Harry told Niall.

Niall blinked then raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What about—”

“No,” he said simply, shaking his head and pushing her more toward the front.

“Harry, that’s not necessary...I think I can—”

“No,” he repeated.

There wasn’t room to argue.

*

She said goodnight to Niall and Harry continued ushering her into his room. It was the same as before except he moved the bed to the middle of the wall and changed the position of the dresser and the desk in his room. “D’you have clothes or d’you need clothes?”

“I don’t have uh...clothes to wear to bed—”

“Here,” he said quickly and opened the drawer. “Think y’left these here,” he said handing her a pair of leggings that she had lost years ago. It made her feel confused that he kept them folded neatly in a drawer readily available. She wondered if he let other women wear them. She honestly didn’t care. She was glad they were getting some use.

Harry assumed she was questioning the fact he kept her leggings in a drawer folded neatly. He offered them to a girl staying over every now and again. Gem even wore them on occasion. Harry didn’t need to read her mind, to know she was probably happy to help some stranger when they were over and needed something comfy to sleep in. “And y’can wear this,” he said and tossed her a long sleeve shirt that had a logo on it she hadn’t seen before.

“What’s this?” She asked curiously looking at the logo. It wasn’t really the time, but she was potentially in shock and Harry wasn’t going to let that happen, so he just answered her.

“The company I work for,” he shrugged and pulled his shirt over her head.

She dated Harry for two years, so she was used to seeing Harry naked. But not seeing him for two years and for him to casually pull his shirt over his head...well, she missed seeing him. “You got new tattoos,” she said suddenly.

Harry smirked for the first time all night and he paused with his arms in his shirt, but he held off on tugging the shirt over his head. “Uh...jus’ a few,” he said quietly. “One for m’godson, another one for Gem, one ‘cause I drank a little too much one night,” he said shyly.

Harry looked at her gentle smile and thought he would melt. She was all stressed and worked up and so was Harry, but she was beautiful. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. If Harry wasn’t so nervous about her safety, he would have reveled a bit longer in how much he missed her voice and suddenly hearing it woke some part of him that he thought was long gone. The part of him that was hers.

Harry opened the door again. “Hey Ni,” he called. “You still do her skincare routine?”

She let out a huffed little laugh thinking about the night she showed Niall and Harry all the steps to having a clean face before bed making sure to prevent wrinkles and damage to the only skin they had. Harry thought it was too many steps, but Niall was smitten with the routine and asked her no less than fifty questions about what he needed to do to have baby soft skin. Harry was grateful now that it was going to pay in tenfold, because he could make her feel at home and have Niall comfort her for a few moments while he fixed up his room. “Yeah! Princess, you want to share?” He called.

Harry looked at her and then opened the door wider. “All yours,” he said softly.

She took the borrowed clothes and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

Harry watched her walk to the shared bathroom and Niall followed in behind her to show where he kept everything, but he caught Harry’s eye as he entered quirking one eyebrow at him. Harry shook his head and left the pair to their spa treatment.

Harry’s phone vibrated as he propped up the pillows and got a few more blankets for the sweet girl from his closet. For someone that always ran much too hot, she always wanted more blankets to sleep in at night. He was planning on offering to sleep on the floor or the couch, but he knew she would deny it immediately and probably offer to do it herself. Of course, Harry wasn’t about to let that happen so they would have to settle for sharing. He glanced at the name on his phone and sighed.

Do you want me to come over? Harry felt guilty but he shouldn’t have. It was an arrangement they had agreed upon, and they both knew it.

Not tonight.

Oh. Okay.

Sorry.

No, it’s fine. Just surprised. Everything alright?

Yeah.

Okay.

Harry stopped answering. She deserved more...and if Harry had a little bit better self-esteem maybe he would realize he deserved more too.

There was a knock outside his room. “Y’don’t need t’knock, kitten,” he said with an eye roll as he pulled the covers back for the two of them. Harry heard his door click shut.

“Well...it’s sort of ridiculous that I’m even here, and I feel bad intruding and making you even—”

“Love,” he said turning toward her. She was in his shirt and her leggings now. She settled the clothes she was wearing with her stuff, and she looked toward Harry with so much trust in her eyes Harry wanted to cry. He was so thankful she called him. So thankful she trusted her gut and glad he could help her. “I am so glad y’called me,” he said softly. “You’re not intruding or anything,” he promised. “M’glad you’re here.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you,” she repeated again.

Harry gestured to the bed. “I was gonna offer t’sleep on the floor or the couch—”

“Absolutely not.”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “—But I already knew y’wouldn’t care for that, and I won’t let y’do that either so...” he said and gestured to the bed again.

She couldn’t argue with him so she grabbed her bag and pulled it toward the side of the bed she was used to sleeping on. However, Harry forgot that after they broke up he started sleeping on the side she did...for a while it smelled like her and as good as the break up was, he missed her and longed for her. Sleeping on her side made him feel closer to her. After a while, he forgot it wasn’t where he usually slept. But for tonight, he would have to go back to his side. Harry settled into his bed, pulling the blankets up over him as he scrolled on his phone. It was eerie how comfortable they could get into a routine that was very much the same as the one they used to have.

“Do you mind if I just...finish my essay really quick?” She asked softly.

“Take your time, love,” he nodded easily. “How is school?” He inquired.

She nodded. Harry watched her as she pulled her laptop from her bag and opened it. “It’s good. I’m almost done...I have an internship a couple days a week and they’ve offered me a job when I officially graduate.”

“Kitten, that’s awesome,” he smiled. “Congratulations,” it was so heartfelt it made her stomach flutter.

“How is this place?” She asked, pointing to the logo on her shirt. “Have you been there this whole time?”

“Yeah, I have. It’s a great place. I like it. It’s quiet. I get t’keep t’myself mostly. M’told I’m better than the last guy they had,” Harry chuckled.

She smiled and nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Harry felt his face warm. “What are you working on now?” He wondered.

“It’s for my history of psychology class,” she said. Harry was always dumbfounded she wanted to be a psychologist but rarely looked at how her own behavior was maddening every now and again. Like tonight when she was willingly about to put her life in danger for some creep because she didn’t want to bother Harry. “Just relating different philosophies to a disorder over time and how the founders of these philosophies would have approached it.”

“Cool,” Harry smiled. “Do you like it still?”

“Very much,” she nodded. “Except,” she sighed. “This keeps happening,” she showed him her computer. “I’m sorry,” she said. She hated asking Harry about tech. It never bothered him. He was happy to help her, and he gave her tips to better the lifespan of her devices. She knew he would probably still look at it for her, even after all these years.

He tilted his head and sat up more and looked at the blue crash screen analyzing the codes it presented. “Hold on,” he mumbled turning into his IT self and googling the code from his phone. “How often does it do this?”

“Err...like once a day.”

“Kitten,” he admonished. She knew better than that after all of his tips and tricks. “May I?” He asked. She handed it to him.

“I can’t really afford a new laptop right now. My dad said he would get me one when I graduated in a month,” she shrugged.

“How is your family?” He asked while he fiddled with her computer.

“Good,” she nodded. “How’s yours?”

“They’re good. Gemma visits frequently,” he smirked.

“That’s nice, tell her I said hello.”

He was busy clicking through her screens and checking settings on her computers that she didn’t know existed. “Y’should really clean this,” he murmured.

“Er...m’not sure how...you always did it for me,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “Fair enough, I can do it in the morning if y’have time.”

“I have class at eight,” she told him.

He shrugged. “S’okay...m’usually up at five.”

“Five?” She asked in surprise. “Harry, it’s so late, you should be asleep,” she said with concern in her voice.

He shrugged. “S’okay. Niall and I usually have movie night with friends on Tuesdays,” he said. “S’pretty early t’be in bed right now, on a regular Tuesday night, for me.”

“I interrupted movie night?” She asked quietly.

“That’s what y’took from that?” He smirked.

She was silent for a few moments. “He was out there, wasn’t he? Waiting for me?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t want to answer her question. “Yes.” She nodded and swallowed around a lump in her throat. Biting the inside of her cheek she looked at her hands while Harry took his gaze from her computer to look back at her. “Kitten,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

“What if you couldn’t have—”

“Love, don’t. I was there. S’okay,” he promised.

“But you might not have been able to...and you shouldn’t have—”

“Baby,” he said softly and put her laptop on the floor beside him. He turned to face her, and he reached for her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her soft skin. He could feel her melting into the touch and it reminded him of every time he ever touched her and how much he missed that. They were so different now. Older, wiser. Harry still adored her so very much, seeing her name was the first time he thought of her in months and months. Hearing her voice was like hearing a song he forgot about, and it sounded like hearing it for the first time and it sounded so much like angels he was wondering if tripped down the steps of his house and died. Touching her, even if he felt she was in danger, was like magic. It changed something in him. It was familiar and new and all at once. Holding her was warmth and light, something he had forgotten about until that moment. Even in a situation he didn’t want to be in. “I would do anything for you.”

“Still?” She asked with a snort before she could stop it.

Harry rolled his eyes. He brushed his thumb over her cheek again; he would do it all night rather than sleep and then work a full week. If this was the last time he saw her, touched her, smelled her, he would do it for just another minute. “If y’need me, love...that’s...a big deal. Yeah...I would do anything for you.”

“We’re not even together,” she whispered. “Actually...I think you have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he shook his head.

“You’re seeing someone?”

He sighed. “Kitten, I don’t care about anyone but you, right now.”

“I can’t in good conscience—”

“Love, m’not seeing anyone. That’s it,” he said with a touch of frustration in his voice. She was quiet another moment.

“Harry?” She whispered.

“What, kitten?”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“Oh, love,” he cooed and pulled her toward him. She started to cry and Harry held her against his chest and while he hated the way her tears soaked his shirt, he was so glad he was there to comfort her.

*

She was anxiously walking into the coffee shop the next day. She knew the chances of him being there again after he was clearly rejected were slim. It didn’t quell her nerves though, as she walked into the shop.

As she settled her things in the back and came to the front to clock in on the register and begin taking orders, she finally noticed the curly brunet locks cozied up in the corner of the shop in an armchair with a book in hand and computer bag at his feet. She blinked. Doing a double take between the customer waiting to place his order and Harry, sitting quietly in the corner, focused on his book and unaware it seemed that she was at work.

As she made the drink requested, she looked at Harry and then her coworker. “Did you see Harry come in?” She asked.

She glanced over at the corner. “Yes.”

There was no more discussion.

*

At the end of her shift, she went over to Harry in the corner halfway through his book. “Why are you here?”

“I told you I’d do anything for you, love,” he said gently, earmarking his page and closing the book. “Ready t’go?”

She bit her lip and nodded. He stood up, gathering his things and headed for the door.

*

When Harry came to her shifts over the next week, she thought that this was over the top. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any explanation, he was just there. When they left he tucked her neatly into her car and followed her home before she entered her apartment and waved goodbye from the front entrance.

On Sunday, she anticipated seeing Harry in the corner at some point in her morning shift, but instead she was slightly disappointed by not seeing him. She got used to seeing him and more than that wanted to see him.

So when she got into her car and locked her doors before she pulled her phone out.

“’Lo?”

“Are you mad at me?” She asked.

“Kitten?” He responded. It sounded like he was suddenly awake out of nowhere.

“You didn’t come to—”

“Are y’alright? Did he come back?”

“No!” She shook her head as she answered hurriedly. “I’m fine...I just...”

“Love, m’sorry. I...I had something t’do this morning, I figured—”

All at once she felt like the biggest idiot in the world. “Oh my God,” she whispered and covered her eyes. Thank God she didn’t video chat Harry. Thank God she was alone in her car and no one could see the bright red cheeks she was sporting. “Oh my God. Harry. I’m so sorry. I...oh my God,” she shook her head.

Hearing her worried tone, Harry hurried away from his morning plans. “Angel, are you okay?” He repeated. “I can come be there in ten minutes, love. M’worried that—"

“No, m’fine. Really. Please this is mortifying. You're very obviously with someone...and...I’m fine,” she told him. “I feel like—”

"Love, m'not with anyone. Haven't been since we started talking again. Kitten, I want t’see y’too,” he promised. “I’ll be home in ‘bout an hour. Does that work for you?” She nodded, feeling ridiculous as ever. Harry couldn’t see her nodding. But he knew she was. “An hour,” he promised. “I’ll see you then, love.”

*

She felt stupid once more as she pulled up to Harry’s place and noted Niall’s car wasn’t there, fortunately. At the very least her humiliation would remain just between herself and Harry. Harry met her in the yard almost as soon as he saw her pull up. “I was worried y’were lying,” he admitted and stuffed his hands in his pockets looking at her as she walked toward him.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she promised crossing her arms in front of her.

“Good,” he smiled gently. “Then...is everything alright?”

“I missed you,” she whispered quietly.

“Yeah?” He murmured.

“Yeah,” she nodded not making eye contact.

Harry tilted her chin up and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lip. “I missed you more,” he said so cutely she could have turned into a puddle of love and mush on his front yard.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded and smiled at her. It was so adorable, so utterly Harry, and made her want to throw herself at him and never let him go.

So she did.

[k2padfoot]

Finding Her

Draco x Y/n

summary: The Malfoy’s forbid you of pursing their son after years of a relationship with him. When the war broke out they wanted him as far away as possible from you and your unborn child. Months later Draco learns the truth.

warnings: tad bit of angst, crappy parents, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Rain was pouring down all around you as you raced towards your flat after a long day of work.

Your flat is on the second floor of the building so you made a run for it up the stairs and straight for your front door.

After rummaging through your work bag for your keys you finally unlocked the door and were startled to see Ginny Potter standing in your dimly lit living room.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to see Ginny at your home, the Potter’s have been by your side through so much lately you truly have no idea where you’d be without them. Ginny had always been one of your best friends so when she found out you were about to be a single mother without a job she of course offered her help.

Harry and herself had set you up with an apartment 15 minutes from their home, Harry even got you a job at the Ministry to help with your bills. Ginny being an experienced mother already helped you in many ways to prepare for your child.

“Ginny? My God you almost gave me a heart attack.” you laughed as you sat your bags down and flipped on the kitchen lights.

“So what’s up?” you asked her as you rummaged through the fridge trying to find something to eat.

Ginny had already sat herself down at the breakfast bar across from where you stood, “I know we just saw each other this morning but I had to come quick because this couldn’t wait.”

Your head quickly spun around to face her, “What can’t wait?”

Ginny sighed roughly before continuing, “It’s Draco. He’s at our house—

“I’m sorry but did you just say Draco Malfoy is at your house?” you interrupted her.

“Well if you’d let me finish you would’ve heard the rest.” She said and you nodded at her to continue. “He came looking for you Y/n. He kept rambling about how he’s been back looking for you and that it’s driving him crazy not knowing where you’ve been.”

Your face went flush, “He’s been back?”

“I guess so, and he’s been spending all of his time looking for you. I won’t lie to you Y/n, he’s drunk right now and the only thing he keeps saying is how he needs you. I wouldn’t have came if it wasn’t necessary, he just doesn’t want anyone else but you and we can’t seem to help him no matter how hard we try.” Ginny did her best to explain.

You felt like you were going to break out in a cold sweat any second now, “I-I don’t where I’d start Ginny. He has zero clue about all of this.” you gestured to your pregnant belly, “And I haven’t seen him in over 5 months, what would I even say to him?”

“You don’t need to worry about that okay? Your showing just enough that we can still hide it with an oversized jumper and some sweatpants. All you need to focus on right now is speaking with Draco, I know you don’t want to but I think he needs you Y/n.” Ginny explained.

You exhaled sharply as you thought about the many possibilities of how this could go, “Alright, I’ll change and we’ll go.”

When you arrived at the Potter’s home your feet stayed planted to the ground before you. “Y/n are you coming?” Ginny asked as she opened her front door.

Feeling the bile crawl up your throat you hesitated for a moment, “Y-yeah, yeah of course.” You bit your lip to hold back the bile in your mouth as you stepped into their home.

“Here let me take your coat and I’ll start us some tea.” Ginny told you as she shook your coat off of you and hurried away to the kitchen.

“Y/n? Oh I was really hoping you’d come.” Harry said to you as he exited the living room.

“Y-yeah. So where um, where is Draco?”

“He’s upstairs at the moment. I took him to our guest room hoping he’d sleep it off but that was only an hour ago, I bet he’s still awake up there.” Harry let you know.

You nodded at him before looking up at the dim lit stairwell and hesitantly making your ascend up the steps.

You stopped in front of the guest bedroom, you closed your eyes for a moment trying to prepare yourself to go in. You took a deep breath and turned the door knob which to your dismay revealed an intoxicated Draco Malfoy tossed in the sheets.

“Draco?” you whispered, “Draco are you awake?”

A barley conscious Draco jolted up from the bed, “Huh? Y-yeah I’m up what’s wro— Oh my god Y/n is that you?” He was shocked to see you standing before him nonetheless.

“Hi Draco.” you replied.

“W-what are you doing here?”

You moved closer to the end of the bed he was still sat in, “I came to see you. Ginny was over at my place earlier and she said I was needed here.”

You could see he looked ashamed, “Oh God, I’m so sorry Y/n she shouldn’t have bothered you with this.” Draco tried apologizing as he ran his hands through his messy blonde locks.

You sighed softly, “She didn’t bother me at all. She said you needed me, so here I am.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “And you actually came?”

“Well yeah, I’m standing right here aren’t I?” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I guess you’re right.” he agreed.

Your eyes narrowed in on the man before you, it had been far too long since you’ve seen that beautiful face. “So what’s going on Draco? Why’d you come looking for me now?”

“My mother told me everything.” He explained as your stomach turned.

“Sh-she did?”

“Yeah, she told me how she basically threatened your life. How her and my father made sure you were out of the picture, made sure I wasn’t able to love you.. or to love our unborn child.” Draco told you at the same time he wiped few tears away with his sleeve.

Your eyes went wide at his words, “So you know everything?”

“I do. She told me the entirety of it about two weeks ago and I’ve been looking for you ever since.”

Your heart dropped, “Draco I’m so—

“Don’t. Just- just hold on.” He was saying as he got out of bed, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” He apologized while attempting to fix his messy hair and unbuttoned shirt.

He stood before you staring at you in astonishment, “It’s amazing to see you Y/n.”

You smiled faintly at him feeling your cheeks heat up, “You too Draco.”

He exhaled slowly, “God Y/n, I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I thought you had moved away and started a whole new life.” Draco told you as his eyes began to water once more.

You gasped at the idea of Draco thinking you didn’t want him. “Draco, I’m so sorry. I-I thought I had no choice but to stay away from you, if I would’ve just realized your parents were lying then may—

“Stop, don’t do that.” He interrupted taking a few steps closer, you could see his fist clenched at his side in an effort to stop himself from reaching out for you. “Please don’t try to blame yourself. I should’ve looked harder for you, I just can’t believe you were still here the entire time.”

You let out a deep breath, “I know, but you couldn’t have known the truth.”

Draco nodded as he looked at you once again, but this time really looked at you. “Y/n, y-your belly it’s so, so—

“Pregnant?” you joked.

“Well yes but you are absolutely glowing. I just can’t believe that’s my baby in there.” Draco nervously said.

“Yes, yes he is.”

Draco’s mouth went wide, “Did you just say he?”

You could feel your heart flutter at his excitement. “I did.” you assured him.

“Oh. My. God. Wow, I-I have a son?” Tears brimmed at his eyes as he grinned ear to ear.

You nodded back at Draco, “I was thinking of naming him Scorpius.”

“Y-you remembered?” He could barley say between soft sniffles.

You smiled to yourself, “Of course I did. I just know he’s going to have your gorgeous blue eyes.”

Draco slowly approached you with caution until he saw that look in your eyes, the one that told him he never even had to ask your permission in the first place.

Gently he placed his hands on your belly softly caressing the womb that protected his son. “So perfect.” He whispered. “I can’t wait to meet you.” Draco told the little boy you were carrying.

Without warning his tender hands moved from your stomach to around your waist. Draco pulled you in close kissing you like it was yesterday. It was an intense kiss that made your entire body warm, his lips moved against yours like lightning and you were lost in him once again.

You both finally pulled away from each other to catch a breath when Draco gently cradled your face in his hands, “I love you, and before you say anything you don’t have to say it back. I just need you to know that okay? I need you to know that I love you and I’ve never stopped. I will never ever stop loving you and our son.”

You placed your hands on top of his own, “Well I do have something to say.” You told him as Draco could feel his palms turning clammy and his pulse race against time.

“I love you too.” you said with a beaming grin that Draco immediately reciprocated.

Without warning Draco had swooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bed, gently placing you on it.

You laid back against the sheets as Draco stared at you from above. “My beautiful, beautiful girl.” Draco kept repeating as he softly caressed your face. “My perfect girl carrying our perfect baby.” Draco cooed, his hands gently rubbing your belly now.

Watching Draco in awe of you and the baby you created together brought tears to your eyes that you just couldn’t help but let fall.

You smiled through soft sniffles and tears as you observed him only for Draco to notice you as well. “Y/n/n? Baby what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”

“N-no, no of course not” you tried to tell him between soft cries. “I’m happy Draco, I promise these are just the happy tears.” you smiled through them.

Draco let out a soft giggle, “Good, because I am going to do everything in my power to keep you and our boy happy, to keep our beautiful family safe. I adore you Y/n and I am just so beyond grateful I finally found you.”

“Me too Dray, me too.” You smiled at him.

[imbored1201]

Slumber Party & Prankss

Master list

Summary:  You and the ladies were finally having a slumber party to get away from the men but little did you know, Sam and Bucky were up to something

Word Count: 929

Pairing: Wandanat x reader

Warnings: Spiders, Bucky and Sam pranking reader, Wanda kicking their ass for it, Talks of drinking

“Okay ladies, I have the popcorn, the drinks, the candy, am I missing something” Pepper asked as she set down everything on the table of the living room. “The real drinks Pepper, we need alcohol” Valkyrie said as she sat down on the floor. “No, no drinking tonight ladies, you guys do that every day when you reunite” Wanda and Nat looked at you and Carol, Valkyrie always dragged you two into drinking on the rooftop. 

“What movie are we watching, anyway?” Carol asked as she scrolled through the movie options, “I wanted to do a Harry Potter marathon” Pepper answered making everyone protest. “Oh come on guys, we only watched the 1st and 2nd one last time, you can’t just watch the first two and stop” “Yes you can” Nat said smiling as Pepper kept arguing. Little did you guys know. Sam and Bucky were planning something. 

“Who are we going to prank though?” Sam asked, making Bucky shrug. They were sitting in Sam’s room playing video games, Bucky of course still confused on the controls. “Can’t prank Pepper because Tony will cut our budget, Carol will destroy this whole tower if we do something, Valkyrie literally has no fears and isn’t scared to kill us, Nat and Wanda are too scary. Y/N?” Sam looked a little scared, “Wanda and Nat will kill us if we did that, unless we get her away and bribe her not to tell them after,” Bucky nodded, “What is she scared of?” Sam smirked, “Spiders, fucking terrified of them, should have seen her when Peter brought his tarantulas this morning,” “Is Pete still here?” Sam nodded, “He’s in the lab with Tony,” Bucky stood up and started walking to the lab. “Let’s do some negotiating,” 

Bucky and Sam were able to bribe Pete into giving them his tarantulas and were deciding on where to set it up. After some arguing they decided to do the prank in Sam’s room. They put them in Sam’s bathroom and Bucky grabbed them out of their container and set them down. They decided they were going to go down there and ask you to come check out some of Sam’s outfit ideas for a “date” he had. 

Once they stepped foot in the living room they were quickly met by protest from all of you. “Did you not see the no boys allowed sign outside” Carol said as she threw popcorn at them. They held their hands up, “We just need Y/N” Sam explained, making you raise your eyebrow. “Why?” you asked as they expected you would. “I have a date tomorrow, and I need your advice on some outfits, you know how bad Bucky’s fashion is” all the girls let out a ‘ooo’ sound at Sam’s statement. “Okay Sammy, let's go then” you jumped up and skipped out of the living room. 

“Who’s the lucky person?” you asked, “oh, someone I met at the park, um, Y/N” he asked, getting nervous about pulling this off. “Yeah, Sammy?” you asked. “Can you get my tie from the bathroom?” you shrugged and did it. Bucky walked close behind ready to close the door, “Where is i- HOLY SHIT. SAM THERE'RE SPIDERS” You yelled ready to run out but Bucky closed the door before you could and held it closed. “BUCKY. NO” you yelled crying as you banged on the door. You quickly jumped on the sink and stared down at the spider’s that were just crawling around minding their own business. After a couple of minutes they finally decided it was enough and opened the door. 

“Wanda! Nat!” you yelled and ran past them once they opened the door, “Wait Y/N” Sam yelled as Bucky zoomed to you and grabbed you and shut your mouth before you could get to the elevator. “Y/N, stop” Bucky whispered in your ear and felt bad as you cried more. “Calm down” he comforted but little did they know, you were telepathically communicating to Wanda. 

It wasn’t long until you guys heard the elevator beep and then came out an angry Wanda and Nat who looked at the scene of Bucky holding you down with a hand over your mouth and Sam trying to bribe you with money and tickets to see Taylor Swift. “What do you think you're doing?” Nat demanded as Bucky and Sam quickly got up looking terrified. You started laughing at their faces and took the tickets and money from Sam. “Wanda! Nat! Look, tickets for Taylor’s concert” you giggled as you ran over to them. You were supposed to buy some but the day they went out you guys got put on a 2 week mission so by the time you got back they were all gone. Wanda pulled you into a hug and wiped your tear-stained cheeks, smiling a bit at your happiness. 

“Why don’t you go back to the sleepover hun, Pepper is putting on Harry Potter” you cheered and ran off again completely forgetting about the trauma you just got put through. 

“I’ll give you a five second head start” Nat smirked as she saw Wanda’s eyes were glowing, she was going to let Wanda handle this one. She stepped back and watched as Wanda flew through the hallways and laughed as she heard the boys scream of terror. 

This was probably one of the most unforgettable slumber party you've had, but at least you got Taylor Swift tickets and Wanda and Nat knew they were going to be dragged along and you were going to spend all their money on more merch. 

[gavagecunctation]

upd8 re8ction

so it is tavvy i knew it. im surprised yiffy managed to get 8way seeing as like last we saw her she was 8eing yelled at 8y harvris 8ut it checks. i love tavvy and yiffys duo. we 8oth know we weren't meant to 8e 8orn.

(P.S. I left you guys some trail mix. Don’t pick the raisins out; they’re healthy.)

he's so silly. 8rother of all time. or uncle i guess

love his fuckass rich 8uoy sigil or wax seal or wh8tever

(sorry for the num8er of 8s this upd8 is really fucking me up for reasons you'll see on like the next panel)

cool panel love the composition love the everything. harry and vris look so silly. their heads are 8igger than jades. rose you're so 8ad at your jo8

harry stop 8eing a pussy. L.

this is the first time im actually enjoying the idea of tavvrissy 8eing kismeses and not just a guy and the 8oy she 8osses around

VRISSY: And neither is that Arrog8nt Hivewrecking 8ITCH!

HEY DON'T CALL ME THAT

this panel. just gorgeous. and 8lso heart8reaking for me. 8ye dad and fuck you to the anonymous shooter.

oh so N8W you do your jo8 . another 8anger panel. the choice to make rose shadowed/grey against harvris' regular colors is interesting to me. she's re8lly lost all her light huh

shed a single (8rave 8oy) tear. rip dad

was talking in the hs8c discord a8out whether this would 8e heroic or not. someone 8rought up that it could 8e just 8ecause of jades homewrecking which yeah i 8elieve. also the w8y she was trying to manipul8 the narrative could 8e seen as just. sad day for me i wanted candy jade and ult dirk to talk theyre 8oth so thematically simil8r

the sweat is interesting. does she know jade is dead? pro8a8ly. does she regret it?

may8e. most likely not

another 8anger as usual i love hs8cs artstyle

this shot is pretty interesting to me. is that the 8ell tower where dirk died? why is it glowing white? is cave the point under it too or is the 8attermaid using it as a vessel for the 8eam? lots of thoughts

yiffy and tavvy are not dead that's all i know for sure. they would not die they're too important

i really thought the flash would end act 1 8ut this is cool as fuck too

W8?????

these fucking pages loaded l8 for me oh my god. hs union you rascals

gavageCunctation [GC] began negging adamantGriftress [AG] 801 MINUTES AGO.

ayyyy its a deltrit8n. delta detritus hey did you know detritus means trash 8ecause for the longest time i didnt and now i feel stupid

801 minutes = 13 something hours. that's many imo 8ut you do you hs8c

this guy's really interesting. i think the delta kids (petition to call them that) are going to 8e 8ased on 2020s internet tropes. gc seems to 8e 8ased on a tum8lr user of some sort.

GC: if i'm being honest we cooked hard with this GC: haha... tag that shit i'm fussing... GC: AA (that's oomf)

my proof for the a8ove st8ment 8ut also this reads like a millenial desper8ly trying to speak like a gen z/alpha kid (which i guess it is). i cant tell whether "i'm fussing" is aave or not

i'm curious though how did they get vrissys handle?

gavageCunctation's [GC'S] computer exploded.

L + r8io

gc defo has a crush on vrissy which is funny as fuck to me. go girl 8r8k up with your technically uncle gc is right there!!! you can do 8etter!!!

aa seems interesting i get the feeling they're pro8a8ly in contact with ultrose or at least that sort of rose-rezi stand in of the session due to how it seems like they have some sort of seer a8ilities

GC: um anyway she's like an oracle... GC: except she's not an oracle. GC: she's some other shit...

you guys get what i mean? oh aa could 8e like jade too as in they could 8e awake on prospit and thats why they know all this stuff

GC: yet i still stay up to my buccal mass

a sea species so this is one of roses delta kids neat

ok done for now 8ye

[saphronethaleph]

Stare Decisis

“All right, that’s all the spells I can think of,” Hermione said, lowering her wand and inspecting their new camp in the Forest of Dean.

“Which probably means there aren’t any spells left to cast,” Ron noted, wincing. “Ow. I hate splinching… so, uh. What do we do now?”

He frowned. “You know, we’d better win at this point, right? Because I bet Hermione could pass exams anywhere in the world, but you and me, Harry, we’re comparatively buggered.”

“If we don’t win we’re absolutely buggered, not just relatively,” Harry replied, groaning. “So, we’ve got a horcrux… now we need to destroy it, right? And find the rest.”

He looked up at Hermione. “How do we destroy them?”

“We need to use something powerfully destructive, powerful enough to break the magical protections on the horcrux,” Hermione replied, considering the locket they’d retrieved at such peril. “Unfortunately, there aren’t many such powerfully destructive kinds of magic – the only one we know is basilisk venom.”

“Oh, we’re fine, then,” Harry said, relieved. “Sidney can help.”

Both his friends looked at him in some confusion.

“...Sidney?” Hermione asked, eventually.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

“Who’s Sidney?” Ron said. “Is he one of your cousin Dudley’s mates?”

“What?” Harry asked. “No. Why would my cousin be friends with a basilisk? You’ve met him.”

“Have I?” Hermione asked. “I don’t think I have. If I did, it was so brief I don’t remember it.”

“I think we need to go back and start this conversation back at a bit where I understood what was going on,” Ron suggested. “I hate splinching. What do we do now?”

“Sidney,” Harry said, firmly. “Sidney is the solution to all our problems.”

He rethought.

“Sidney is the solution to some specific problems, one of which we have right now.”

“Who is Sidney?” Hermione asked. “Please, let’s not get distracted.”

Harry rummaged in his pockets, paused, rummaged in a different pocket, and pulled out a small red and gold bag.

“Alohomora,” he said, touching his wand to the knot, and it unravelled in a trice. “I still love that I can just do that instead of spending a minute undoing it.”

Smiling slightly, he pulled open the bag, and poured out approximately six inches of greenish snake.

The snake hissed slightly, mumbling something about nap time, and rolled over.

“...Harry?” Hermione said, slowly. “Is that a basilisk?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

“Why?” Ron said, not unreasonably.

“Well, I had this idea,” Harry explained, making sure not to look at the serpent in question while actually talking. “See, after I had to kill the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets I got to thinking about how it actually really sucks that there was someone a thousand years old in the school and I had to kill her, and also how actually there can’t be someone who’s just evil because of how they’re born, because there can’t be someone who’s just good because of how they’re born either, and I know people in the magical world think snakes are evil but they’re clearly wrong because the first snake I ever met just wanted to visit his homeland.”

Hermione and Ron looked at him, then each other, then back at him.

“You realize that’s enormously illegal, right?” Ron said, in an interested voice.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell anyone at first because of that, but at this point what’s one more crime?” Harry asked. “I’m already guilty of Being Harry Potter in the first degree.”

He stroked Sidney’s spine with a fingertip, then glanced up. “And, honestly, he’s been kind of helpful in my not going completely insane once or twice.”

“Not going completely insane?” Ron asked. “So, um, how come this Sidney is still alive, anyway? Hagrid’s got his cockerels back.”

“Silenced bag,” Harry explained. “It’s got a warming charm too, he likes it in there. I’ll probably have to get a bigger one or expand the inside in a decade or three.”

“...um,” Hermione said. “I was actually hoping for this topic to come up, but how old is Sidney?”

“About… four?” Harry said, frowning. “Yeah, he turned four not long ago. He’s a lot smarter than a human four year old, I assume, I haven’t actually met many of them but he’s better conversation than I was at eleven.”

“Oh, I see,” Hermione realized. “Didn’t you say the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets was fifty feet long?”

“Easily that!” Ron said. “I don’t see.”

“Fifty feet long, but nearly a thousand years old,” Hermione pointed out. “So that’s about twenty years a foot.”

“Say what you like about Salazar Slytherin, but he was a long term planner,” Harry noted. “Though he did hatch out at about four inches… all right, sleepyhead, wake up!”

Sidney mumbled something, burrowing into his own coils.

“Can’t basilisks kill you with their gaze?” Ron asked. “I assume you’ve got some kind of answer for that, just saying.”

“Yeah, at this point a prolonged staring match causes a headache,” Harry replied, as Sidney finally accepted that he wasn’t going to get back to sleep any time soon and yawned. “Hey there, mate. Got something for you to bite, it’d be a real help.”

“You’re sure it’s okay?” Sidney asked, tilting his head and yawning again. “Because I remember you were quite firm about the rules.”

Harry nodded.

“I know,” he agreed. “This is an exception because it’s a bit of the soul of that person who tried to kill me about… it’s got to be at least a dozen times by now.”

“Oh, that’s probably all right, then,” Sidney decided.

“Hagrid is going to love this,” Ron said, as Harry held out the locket and Sidney gave it a determined nibble. “Once you tell him, anyway.”

There was a sharp crack, and a kind of black mist flew out of the locket before dispersing.

“Ew,” Sidney said, doing the snake version of making a face. “How many more pieces are there? Because that didn’t taste very nice at all.”

“There might be a few more, but not many,” Harry said. “Want to go back and have a nap, or meet my friends?”

“If you’re being open about my existence, why not?” Sidney said, flicking his tail in something like a shrug, then coiled up into a little spiral.

“I’m almost sure I recognized one of those words,” Ron muttered.

Hermione was already on her second page of notes.

(so I saw a post about something similar to this, and decided to one-scene snippet it)

[atlafan]

“You’re acting like that meme of Jamie Lee Curtis where she’s aggressively drinking that water and telling someone off at the same time.” Layna groaned at her boyfriend who finally stopped glaring at his phone to look up at her.

“I have absolutely no idea what that is.”

“Yes you do, I’ve sent it to you before!” Layna takes her own phone out and shows him after searching it quickly on Google.

“Ohhhhh.” He smirks. “Right, now I remember. It’s usually you who looks like that when you’re about to brawl with someone.”

“Now that you’ve calmed down, can we think about what just happened rationally?”

“No, and I will try to call customer service again.” He holds his phone up to his ear.

“Your ass is not on the phone!”

“I’m listening to a voicemail!”

“Okay, Mr. Corporate.” She rolls her eyes.

“Just because I was promoted at the gym, does not make me a corporate meow meow asshole. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for to be upset about this.”

“I’m just going to go in and see if we can book a new reservation with my credit card. The room is technically available..”

“Not until I get to the bottom of this.”

“There’s nothing to get to the bottom of.” She groaned.

“The bottom is gaping. This is a job for the FBI.”

“Who are you, Kris Jenner?”

“Ew, no.” He grimaces. “She’s insane, why would you say that?”

“Because you just said…ugh! Why can’t you know the same references that I do?”

“I’m so sorry that I haven’t spent hours upon hours watching E! I’ll try to rectify that at some point. Now, let me do what I need to do.” He taps a few things on his phone and then presses it to his ear. “This is why I hate credit cards, cash is so much easier.”

Layna pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She reached into his pocket for the paper confirmation Harry had brought with them so they could check into their hotel with ease. He has wanted to plan a long weekend for them, so he booked everything with his name and his credit cards. When you check into a hotel, you need to show the card you used to reserve the room. The woman said the cards didn’t match. When Harry tried again, the app for his card put a lock on his account. So now they’re out on the curb trying to figure it out.

As Layna scans the paper she furrows her brows, then reaches into Harry’s pocket again for his wallet. He pays her no mind while he speaks with another representative from the card’s customer service line. She takes out the credit card he used to reserve the booking and realizes that Harry inverted the expiration date, and wrote Harry Edwerd Styles, instead of Harry Edward Styles. Two simple mistakes that the woman behind the counter could have been nicer about helping with instead of just turning them away.

“Harry…hang up the phone, baby. I figured out what happened.”

“Yeah?” He hangs up the phone. He was on hold so who cares?

“Um…I don’t want you to feel embarrassed because I’ve made mistakes like this before too, but it appears that you inverted the expiration date on your card…and spelled your middle name wrong…”

“I did?!” He snatches the card and the paper and scans them both. “I’m not seeing it.”

“Can I point to them?” She asks gently and he nods. She shows him the expiration on the card and then points to what’s on the paper. “See, the expiration is 06/29, you put 09/26…and you spelled Edward with two E’s…”

“Oh.” His cheeks redden, obviously very embarrassed by his blunder. “I should have had you look at it before I submitted…”

“It happens! I’ve done with my security code and my exportation date before. I think if we go back in, we could explain it better. And then see if that snotty lady will be cooler about the mistake.”

“This is so embarrassing.” He groans.

“I know it feels that way right now, but I promise, I’m not judging. I know your dyslexia flares up more when you’re stressed and reading all the fine print for a hotel reservation can be really daunting.” She wraps her arms around his neck and pecks his nose. “The sooner we go inside and fix the reservation, the sooner we can go to our room and I can help you forget alllll about this.”

“Might have times where I think of it randomly and I feel embarrassed all over again.” He grips her hips, squeezing them.

“Then I guess wherever we are you’ll just need to pull me aside and use me until you forget again.”

No Complaints Blurb

[mertronus]

Tricks and Stones

Read it on AO3 or keep reading below

Hermione stood at the opening of the tent and stretched. She had been inside reading all morning and needed to move around a bit. She was feeling stagnant and restless.

She smiled at Harry who was lost in thought, and considered sitting beside him to check in but noticed the locket dangling around his neck.

No, she thought, better to leave him be for now.

So instead she set off to see where Ron had gone. They were situated on some rocks near the edge of a lake. Hermione hoped that they could procure a couple of fish later for dinner.

A flash of red hair near the lake's edge caught her attention and she quickly navigated down the slippery rocks to get to Ron's side. It had been a rough few days with Ron, filled with rows and grumbling. She missed her Ron.

Maybe since he's not wearing the locket, we can have a good moment.

Hermione reached Ron's side just as he swung his arm back and whipped a stone into the quiet surface of the water. It skipped four times before it sank into the water. She smiled at the memories the scene garnered.

“Wow,” Hermione said. “Good one.”

Ron looked over at her and gave her his signature lopsided grin. That grin always seemed to send butterflies swirling around her belly.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice a bit gruff. Hermione figured he hadn’t used it in a while.

He picked up another flat stone and sent it into the lake—it skipped the water three times. Hermione pulled her eyes away from him and faced the water, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Yes, stepping out of the tent was a wonderful idea.

“Y’alright?” Ron asked.

Hermione nodded then opened her eyes to look back at Ron. “Yeah. I just…I got tired of reading.” She ignored his exaggerated look of surprise but the corner of her lip twitched as she fought a smile and continued. “I just needed to get up and move.”

Ron looked her up and down, an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah…I get that.” He stooped, found another stone, swung his arm back, and let it fly across the water. This one skipped the water five times before it disappeared.

“You’re really good at that,” Hermione mused. She eyed a flat stone a few inches in front of her feet and her fingers twitched.

“Want to learn?”

“I—” Hermione stopped herself and a new thought formed in her mind. She smiled and nodded. “Sure. Show me how.”

Ron stooped and grabbed the very stone Hermione had been eyeing. “The trick is to find a nice flat one.” He held up the stone so Hermione could see and she stifled her smile. “Not too flat, mind, but definitely not round. And smooth too.” He took her hand and placed the stone in hers, his fingers lingering for a moment. Hermione looked up and her eyes caught on his, which were bright blue in the afternoon sun.

“Alright,” she forced herself to say.

“Um…” Ron broke eye contact and scanned the ground, finding a stone of his own. “Now…you don’t want to just throw it into the water, you want to flick it so it will bounce across the surface.” Ron demonstrated and they watched his stone hit the water one, two, three times.

“Alright, then,” Hermione said. She rolled her shoulders back, took a similar stance to Ron, and flung her stone into the water. It went straight in with a neat kerplunk.

Ron chuckled. “Needs some work.”

Hermione huffed. She reached down for a new stone. “This one flat enough?”

Ron surveyed it and then looked around their feet. “Here,” he bent and picked up a new stone. “Try this one better.”

Once in her fingers, Hermione swung her arm back in a fair imitation of Ron and threw the stone right into the water. She stomped her foot and pouted, feeling like a petulant child. Ron simply laughed and shook his head.

“Look, try this,” he grabbed a new rock and stood beside her. “When you find your rock, get kind of low and tilted.” She imitated his stance and tried not to feel silly. “Good. And when you throw, don’t just throw it like you’re tossing a quaffle. Toss is sort of sideways and flick your wrist a bit. Swish and flick.”

Hermione stood straight up and scowled at him. “Oh, haha, very funny.”

Ron laughed. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. But no, it’s true, it’s all in the flick of the wrist.”

“Alright,” Hermione toyed with the stone in her hand as she once again copied Ron’s stance. “Like this?” She pulled her arm back and attempted to flick her wrist, but the stone simply dropped into the water.

Ron laughed. “No,” he said shaking his head. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Um…” He glanced around. “Let’s try this.” He picked up a new stone and got behind Hermione. He put one hand on her waist and the other hand on hers after he’d handed her the new rock. Hermione had to fight not to close her eyes at the feeling of his warm fingers on her, burning through the fabric of her shirt. Her heart was racing and with his chest against her back, she wondered if he couldn’t feel it. She took a steadying breath, but it didn’t help. His scent was wrapping around her like the very best drug. All she had to do was close her eyes and lean back into him, lean back into the high-

“Y’okay?”

His warm breath on her ear made her jump slightly.

“Yeah,” she squeaked. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She almost turned to face him but she realized that if she did, they would be mere millimeters apart. She wondered for just a moment if he would—

No. No, of course not.

“Alright now bring your arm back but keep it low,” Ron instructed, moving his arm with hers. She tried so hard not to focus on the low, grumbly timber of his voice—and the way it made her body feel. “And when you throw, put most of the movement into the wrist.”

They tried like that a few times with no results. When Ron released her, she fought the urge to shudder from the sudden chill. She missed his warmth.

When she tried on her own, without the distraction of her personal Ronald Weasley blanket, the stone skipped once and then sunk.

“Yes!” Ron cheered. “There you go! I knew you could do it!”

Hermione grinned at his praise.

“Let’s go for two, yeah?”

“Maybe three?” Hermione offered.

Ron shook his head with a laugh. “Don’t push your luck.”

After a few more tries, Hermione’s stone skipped across the water twice and they both erupted in cheers. Ron wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet in a hug, swinging her around once in celebration.

When he placed her down, she looked up at him wide-eyed. He cleared his throat and took a step back. “Knew you had it in you,” he smiled. She smiled back. After a moment, both of their smiles faded in the awkward silence.

Ron glanced at his watch and then back to the tent. “I uh…I should probably go and relieve Harry,” he mumbled. Hermione nodded and sighed as he turned to walk away. Relieving Harry from watch also meant relieving Harry of the locket. She knew her short glimpse of the Ron she knew and loved was gone for the day.

It was fun while it lasted, she thought as he disappeared over the rocks. Hermione turned back to the water and lost herself in thought for a moment. She glanced back to be sure Ron had cleared the rocks and was out of sight. Then, she picked up a flat pebble, toyed with it in her hand for a moment, and swung her arm back sending it flying across the water with a perfect flick.

It skipped the surface of the water five times and then sank. Hermione smiled, thoughts of skipping stones with her dad now intermingled with the fresh thoughts of Ron.

[haileybeehappy]

Between The Pages

Harry Styles AU

Summary : You are a temp that gets a job as a personal assistant for a semi-reclusive author named Harry Styles. While his regular assistant gives birth and going on maternity leave.

Word Count : 3k

Warnings : I have no idea what being a temp is like so im winging it, older harry, idk, just the starter chapter

Series Masterlist

Being a temp was not where you thought you would be at twenty three years old but here you were in a small office that smelled of copier toner and stale coffee. In an office chair with springs that dug into the backs of your thighs and a cubical neighbor who hummed the most annoying songs very out of tune. So when an email comes across your laptop for a personal assistant position for six weeks you apply immediately. You daydream of getting coffees for fashion designers and picking up celebrities dry cleaning.

So when you get a call to come in for an interview for a semi reclusive writer who was going to need an assistant while his went on maternity leave. Your dreams were a bit crushed, but you went anyways. Anything has to be better than this busy work hell. The interview is at some big office building packed full of important people.

You pulled down the skirt you were wearing to conceal your knees. Feeling cold in the A/C pumped white walled room. The walls lined with old chairs, the fabric sagging and wrinkled. Ancient faded magazines sat on dented coffee tables. The door connected to the room opens and out steps a very pregnant woman. Your name falling from her mouth. You stand and she motions for you to follow.

“So I’m going to be honest,” she says nervously. “You are the only one that has responded to the application that is qualified for it and I don’t have much time,” she tells you as you follow her waddling form down the hallway. “The job is yours if you want it,” she pauses and looks down the left and right sides of the hallways. Contemplating for an second before going right. “We can up it 200 more a week on salary,” she then stops at a door and opens it. You trail her and sit down at a table that is stacked with papers. You sit for a moment and the two of you look at each other. “So?” She asks. Slightly out of breath.

“Oh um,” you ramble. “Do I have to answer now?”

“No but if you do,” she pauses and looks down. Taking a deep breath. “We can do fifteen hundred a week on salary,” she then lets out a small groan and covers it with a cough. “I know it’s a big waving glowing red flag to hire on the spot but not much I can do from here,” her hands grasping at the handles of her chair. The skin on her knuckles stretched white.

“That’s a lot more than advertised,” is all you can think to say.

“Yeah well circumstances have changed and you would need to start tomorrow, maybe today?” She then slowly stands up. Your eyes snap open as she begins to breath heavily.

“Are you in labor?” You pop to a standing position and dash to her side. She shakes her head, pauses then shrugs.

“I don’t know I’ve never been in labor,” she groans. “And I can’t be in labor because I’m not due for another,” a scream like noise escapes her lips as she grasps onto your arm. “Two weeks. And I still have to train youuuu..” her words stretch out to a wail.

“Okay, okay, okay, well I think you are most definitely in labor. We are gonna get you to the hospital and then we can worry about this job stuff okay?” You speak calmly and she nods her head along with your words. The two of you make your way down the lobby passing many New Yorkers who don’t even then to look at the woman groaning and borderline screaming. You hail a cab and clamber into the germ infested back seat. Your hand used as her squeeze toy, your fingers pinched blue and purple and loosing feeling at the ends. “You got this,” we got this, you think. As the cab comes to a stop in front of a hospital you get out and she’s on the phone. Quickly giving you instructions and tasks and rules and people and numbers and emails and everything. Not catching all the information between the contractions. The cab driver seemingly unfazed as you tuck thirty dollars into his hand.

“And I will email you all this stuff once this is over, if it’s ever over,” she groans as she lays in the hospital bed. You are awaiting the arrival of her husband, not wanting to leave her alone. Even if she’s a stranger. “And it’s, it’s a lot. But you can do it. Hell you’re helping me through this. Which you will be paid for,” she laughs. “He is really a nice guy. Just. A little reclusive. He leaves his building, he just doesn’t leave the block. He goes to the Chinese food place and corner store on his block. And occasionally the hot dog stand on the other side of the street. But he needs help with the other stuff. Picking up dry cleaning. Running copies to the office and things like that,” she lets out quickly in two long breaths.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you nod your head. Her hands squeezing yours.

“And if you need anything. Text me. Call me. Um, i probably won’t be getting much sleep anyways,” she chuckles. You nod. “And, and, um, I need you to bring him that envelope in my bag once my husband gets here. He needs that today!” She yells out. And as she lets out a scream the door bursts open and in comes a tall man, long hair tied back into a pony tail.

“Sarah oh my god I’m so sorry,” he rushes to her side. “Baby, I promise I was as fast I could,” she grasps onto him as he comes close enough. You take a step back and wait while they hold each other for a moment. She then turns to you and points the the envelope.

“Take that to the address for Harry Styles, that’s who you will be assisting. I guess you should know that,” she smiles. “It’s in the email I sent you. He knows your coming. Take then red key ring from my bag. Those are for the building and the door. I think that’s it for now. I will call you in the morning okay?” She asks. You nod. You turn and grab the envelope before looking back at her and speak.

“Good luck,” she smiles at you.

“Thank you,” and you turn and leave. You take a long breath and stand for a moment. Processing as much of the information that you can remember. Then scrolling through your phone and find the address for Mr. Styles building. Once you find it in the Email you travel back to the lobby and hail a cab. You fidget with the envelope the entire ride. You pay the fare with the card sara gave you right before you left the hospital room, the name ‘H Styles’ written in gold letters across the black card. You hop out the cab and slowly make your way to the door. Sifting through keys as you go to open the lock. Finally finding the key it clicks open the door. Once on the elevator you take it to the top floor, it opens to a hallway and you step out with uneven footsteps. Nerves flooding your veins. No ideas how this is going to go. You have the key to open the door but you don’t know if you should use it. So you stand there a second, thinking. You raise your hand and knock three times. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Four Mississippi. Five Mississippi. Then a tumble and a crash. Footsteps towards the door. A lock slides and the door opens.

“Hello,” an accented voice speaks as the man comes into view.

“Hey,” you introduce yourself and hold out the envelope. “Sarah said that you needed this today and um so yeah,” you say as you wave around the yellow paper.

“Thank you,” he smiles as he takes the envelope from your hand. “Come in, come in,” he opens the door and moves out of the way so you could come into the apartment. You nod awkwardly and shuffle past him, “I’m Harry it’s nice to meet you,” his hand reaches out to shake yours. His hand grips around yours, large fingers cover your smaller ones. Rings cold against your skin, tattoos speckled on his hands and for arms as far as you can see.

“Nice to meet you,” an uncomfortable smile on your face.

“How is Sarah doing?” He asks as he walks further into his apartment. You follow meekly behind him.

“As okay as she can be I guess,” you shrug. “She’s gonna call me in the morning to talk more,” another awkward shrug. You don’t know what to do with your body. Your arms curled towards yourself oddly. Shifting on your feet back and forth.

“Good, good, would you like some tea? Coffee? Water?” He asks while he floats through his kitchen. You shake your head.

“No thanks I’m okay,” he looks at you blankly, thinking for a second.

“Well Sarah said that she had some stuff to give you if you could wait here just a minute,” he then disappears into the hallways behind him. You stand awkwardly and wait. Something brushes against your leg and you let out a yelp. Looking down there was a small orange cat.

“Oh hey,” you whisper down to the small feline. “You scared me little one,” you said as you reached down to let him smell you. Your hands running through his fur as he purred at you. Harry came around the corner with a large binder amount other books and papers.

“Hey honey,” you look at him, eyebrow crooked. “The cat,” he smirks at you. You nod. A smile playing at your lips. Cute.

“Hey honey,” you whimper to the cat as he rubs against your leg. “How are you? Huh?” He continues to purr while rubbing against your leg.

“He’s a grumpy old man,” Harry says dropping the large pile of papers on the counter before lowering himself to the ground and scooping Honey onto his folded legs. “Sixteen years old,” his large frame wraps around the cat like a shield as he babbles to the cat. His curly hair is lightly speckled with grays, his green eyes sparkle as he talks to the cat. Fingers scratching under his chin. “My little old man, so stink huh? Such a stink man huh?” he talks the the cat. You feel as if you’re invading their space.

“So I’m gonna take these then?” You ask as you bring yourself back to your feet. Plopping your hand on top of the stack. “What do I do with them?”

“Read them,” he looks up at you. “I��m honestly not all sure what’s all in there. That’s just what she’s been gathering up these last few weeks?” His hands still petting Honey. He looks so meek and small curled up on the floor with the large orange cat.

“Oh..” the stack seems to grow. “I guess I should get on that,” you slip your fingers under the stack before trying to lift up the papers but they are too heavy. “Oh shit,” you gasp as you fling the binders and papers and books over the edge. He is up and standing. Hands overtop yours and brings it back up to the counter.

“Let me get some bags,” he whispers into your ear as he catches you. You just nod.

“Oh. Okay,” you freeze. His disconnect from your frame sends goosebumps over your arms. Feeling cold without his contact. He walks back into the area he got the books from. You suspect it’s the hall that leads to the bedrooms of the very spacious apartment. When you heard reclusive writer you were expecting an much older man who had books stacked to the ceiling and smelled of coffee and whiskey. Not an attractive British man who baby talks to his cat. Your eyes skim the kitchen and the small sitting room attached. Picture frames covered the walls of the apartment. All the frames different shades of gold, brown and random accents of color. The photos in them range from people to places and animals. Quite a few pictures of the beautiful orange cat that has now perched himself on the counter next you and is purring as your hands mindlessly scratch at his head.

“I’ll help you carry them down yeah?” He asks, startling you. A squeak like noise leaves your throat. Your hand flying over your chest. Like you’re trying to capture the heart that seems to be beating out of your chest. “Sorry love,” he smiles. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” you shake you’re head in response.

“It’s okay I just scare easy,” you reach to grab the two reusable bags from him. “And I can carry them it’s okay,” he shrugs.

“I have to go down to get some new pens from the corner store so it’s okay,” you shrug.

“I guess I won’t fight you on it,” a light smile etched onto your features.

“You wouldn’t have won anyways,” he then guides you out of the apartment. You opening doors for him and pressing elevator buttons as he holds the two very heavy bags. For you they would have been anyways. But he carry’s them with ease, the muscles under is sage green cardigan slightly bulging. “Um,” he starts. Pulling his lips into his mouth quickly as if to think of what to say. “Thank you so much for taking this on,” his fingers fidgeting with the steps on the bag. “I really appreciate it and hope that we can make this run smoothly until sara is ready to come back,” he rambles as you finally make it to the ground floor

“Of course it’s hopefully going to be a little bit more exciting than data entry and customer service,” he lets out a small laugh.

“I hope so,” he guides you out the door and a black SUV pulls up to the curb. “Here’s your ride,” you look at him with wide eyes.

“Huh?” You ask and a small older lady comes around the side and walks in front of you. Reaching out and grasping your hand in hers.

“Hi I’m Elaine and I am Mr.Styles driver,” she says with a large smile. “Though he doesn’t go anywhere so I am your driver,” her voice is airy and happy.

“Oh um,” you can’t seem to get nah words out. Shocked. Harry introduces you to her as your brain is still running behind. A driver for a personal assistant is kind of a lot.

“There’s lots of driving in this position and cabs can get expensive,” he moves to put the binders and folders in the back seat. Leaving you room to sit behind the passenger seat. “And there’s some things that I’ll need to bring to the office and back that I just don’t trust to be transported by subway or bus,” he says nervously. Sarah has mentioned he is a very paranoid man who hides it easily, until it comes to his writing. Along with other things, hence why he doesn’t venture more than a street from his apartment building.

“Oh okay,” you then nod at him. “I will see you tomorrow?” You ask trying not to sound too nervous.

“You know where to find me,” he lets out a shy laugh. You just smile at him and pull the door closed. You give Elaine your address and she sits in thought for a second. Before signaling to merge onto the road.

“Isn’t he handsome?” Elaine speaks as she pulls out into traffic. The question startling you. Her small frame is placed atop a cushion that gives her a few inches to see past the steering wheel.

“Oh yeah I guess,” you shrug.

“It’s okay honey you can tell me the truth,” she smiles mischievously through the rear view mirror. Why is she asking you this. It seems unprofessional considering you two are basically co-workers.

“He is a little too old for me,” you tell her click open your phone. Finding the email again and trying to read through and memorize as much information as you can.

“Not at all! You seem like a mature young lady. And very beautiful,”

“Thank you Elaine but Mr.Styles is my boss and I’m a little uncomfortable with this conversation to be honest,” your voice trailing off quietly. Hoping not to offend the older woman.

“Oh of course I’m so sorry,” she shakes her head. “I won’t ask again,” she waits a few seconds before looking back to me again. “So what made you take the job?” She ask’s curiously.

“The money pays well. Sarah seemed really nice and it’s definitely better than the dead end office jobs I’ve been finding,” you shrug. “Even though it’s a temporary thing it’ll be nice to get some experience,” she nods along with your words.

“Oh good reasons,” she laughs as you pull into a spot in front of your apartment building. “Here we are,” she sighs. Turning to look at you face to face. “Right?”

“Yes ma’am,” you respond opening the door and shuffling off the seat and pulling the bags with you. Your arms straining to carry the large heavy bags. ‘Wow I really need to go back to the gym,’ you think to yourself as you make your way to the door.

“Just call me Elaine,” she smiles at you from her now open window. “And I will be here tomorrow at seven so that we can do Mr.Styles morning errands,” you Jude nod and wave. Quickly making your way into the building.

"What did I just get myself into?" you whisper to yourself as you stop onto your elevator. Elaines words running through your head. Did you think he was attractive? I mean he wasn't unattracrive? Why was that her question about him for you? Was she trying to play cupid? Weird way to start out her first day at work. "Whatever he has in store for me tomorrow better not be nearly as exciting. Today was too much,"

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt. 8 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: This is quite possibly the worst idea she's ever had.

words: 3.9 k

warning: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whump. hurt/comfort. descriptions of medical emergencies, hospitals. drug use. coersion. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

this is a darker, messier version of TASM Peter.

18+. you’re responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you don't know anyone who ever stayed out past midnight for a Harry Potter release party, then maybe you should wait to read this.

Back to Part 7.

Part 8

Honey had been lost in thought all morning. Her stomach felt like it was twisted into a pretzel. Anxiety gripped her. And she hadn’t even been in Peter’s presence for the last two hours. 

Instead, she carefully loaded the dishwasher, playing Tetris to try to fit the items in just right. She hated when things were packed unevenly. She almost lost a job as a grocery bagger because of it. Everything had a place, and it felt so relieving to find where they fit. 

This had been her third attempt at loading the dishwasher. She should start it soon. Then she could get to work on taking apart and cleaning the espresso machine. Although she was fairly certain that she’d been the only one that had ever used it.

She felt her muscles lock up as Peter entered the kitchen from the side door. This time, he wasn’t alone. Eddie Brock, or one-way cupcake guy as she referred to him, followed him in. The men looked tense. 

Peter looked like he was sweating, which was odd given the chilly temperature outside. His hair had lost it’s form and was more of a wild mess, having been ravaged by fretting fingers. He tugged at the knot of his tie, shifting around like his shirt was too itchy. Honey instinctively attempted to avoid his gaze, but it was unnecessary. It was as if he refused to look at her.

“Somethin’ came up,” he announced to the whole kitchen. She glanced around just to make sure his only audience was her and the kitchen appliances. 

He slapped his long fingers across his mouth, scratching his beard. “I, uh, I-I gotta go into the city for a bit,” he explained, only making eye contact briefly. “Take care of some stuff.”

She dug a thumb into her palm, nodding wordlessly. 

Her heart raced faster at the thought of what he’d take care of, and whether or not it involved assassinating an elected official. She also considered how strange it was to receive information about his schedule. He was checking in with her, telling her he’d be gone. How oddly domestic. 

“Um, look, Eddie’s gonna stick around, make sure you’re okay,” he explained. The other man’s head snapped up, shooting a stunned glance at Peter. Clearly, it was news to Eddie.

“You serious?” Eddie groaned. “I’m a babysitter now?”

Peter glared at him, and the other man dropped the attitude. “I’ll send Miles’ along tonight,” the boss countered. “I’m sure you can hold out ‘til then, yeah?”

He gulped hard. Peter’s eyes were burning through him. “Right.”

Honey stood quietly, watching the interaction between the two men. She thought about speaking up, arguing that she didn’t need a babysitter. But after everything, she just wanted to be as far away from Peter and his ‘business’ as possible.

As if he could hear her thinking too loudly, Peter turned to her next. He leveled his gaze towards her, eyes dark as night. “You good?” he asked. She nodded quickly, squirming under his sight. He stared right into her soul. “Good,” he said softly, after a pause. He hesitated, focused on her with a tense, suspicious look. 

“Be good,” he added. 

His voice was soft, but the comment was dangerous. It was a warning. It loomed over them with a threatening presence, like a swirling, funnel poking out of a midsummer wall cloud. She bit her lower lip as he turned on his heel and rushed out, his commandment cast down like a god.

Then he was gone. Out of sight. But both of them felt a chill in his wake, as if his gaze was truly omniscient.

Hours passed. If there was one thing Honey was not great with, it was too much time. Too much time allowed her to think. It allowed her to stew. Obsess over the same thoughts, dragging them through her brain until the edges were sharp enough to slice. 

She rested on her back on the couch, staring up at a book in her hands. Good Bones by Maggie Smith. She had read it before. Most of it. Almost made it through to the end. Typical. 

She was forced to delegate herself to short stories and poems. Long novels were too difficult to follow. She’d get too caught up in the details and end up reading the same page over and over. It made English class her least favorite subject, which confounded her mother since supposedly she spoke English.

She thought about Maggie Smith and how Professor McGonagall really was the unsung hero of the Harry Potter books, which she hadn’t read. Not that this Maggie Smith was the same. She knew that. Or she thought so. Probably.

And that was it. She’d lost her place again. Sighing heavily, she slapped the book closed. 

Sitting up, she peered over from her position on the sofa to see Eddie rummaging through the refrigerator.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” she called.

“Somethin’ to eat,” he grumbled. “Guy’s probably a millionaire, doesn’t he have anything besides Lunchables in his fridge?” 

“There’s some stuff for a salad—”

“I don’t need a salad,” Eddie grumbled to himself. “I need food. Meat. Wings. Like... 49 wings. Or churros, maybe.” She raised a brow at this. Eddie pulled open the freezer door, no doubt spotting the pint of ice cream. “Victory!” he cheered beneath his breath, withholding an elated fist-pump. He pulled open the carton, grabbed a spoon, and dug in like a man starved. Skipped the bowl and ate straight out of the tub.

Curious and bored, she wandered over to the kitchen and sat across from him at the bar. The sounds he made while he ate reverberated in the kitchen. It was disgusting, to be honest. 

He could feel her eyes on him. Judging. “You wan’some?” he stared back at her, annoyed, ice cream dripping from his mouth.

“No,” Honey replied, wiping the offending look off her face. “I’m... I’m good.” It also bothered her that he was eating directly from the carton. It bothered her that he expected her to want to share. That would be like licking the same spoon. He was already halfway finished with the carton, however, so it was likely there wouldn’t be anything left to argue over.

“So...” Her voice trailed off, pleasantly trying to fill the silence. “How long have you been in crime?”

He stopped mid-bite. “You’re, uh... new here, aren’cha?”

She blushed. Always an outsider. It shouldn’t have bothered her that she didn’t fit in, but it did. “Is it that obvious?” she responded, somewhat offended. “How d’you know? I could be a mobster. A mob-lady.”

“Okay, first of all, nobody says that,” he scoffed with a smirk, good-natured about his teasing. He dropped the spoon in the empty carton, leaving it on the counter. She eyed it. Expectantly. And also, conversely impressed. 

“Don’t you get brain-freeze?”

“Gotta big appetite,” he answered idly. Belched. “Pardon.” 

She watched the beefy man wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. She studied him curiously, just as she did at the party. He was the hardest to figure out. He’d kept to himself mostly. Talked to himself, too, she noted.

Eddie stepped up to the counter, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a tiny glass vial filled with some kind of oregano, opening the jar and sniffing it. He reached into the other pocket, retrieving a small packet of beige paper squares. 

It occurred to her suddenly that what was in the jar was probably not oregano. 

Curiously, she watched him pack the delicate cannabis flower into a round metal tin. He twisted the lid, causing it to spill out into a fine, green powder. Meticulously, he tapped the pulverized plant into one of the wrapping papers, lining it up perfectly.

He’d peek up at her every once in a while, biting back mild irritation that she was watching him hawkishly, like they were at a Hibachi restaurant. Once he was finished wrapping and sealing the joint, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a lighter. Lit up. Inhaled deeply. Blew out a pillar of smoke, body and mind relaxing.

She ogled, eyes wide. That would explain his insatiable appetite, she thought.

“You want a hit?” Eddie offered, taking the joint from his lips and reaching it out to her.

“Oh,” she blinked owlishly, staring at the burning bud. “No. No, I don’t do drugs. I-I mean, I haven’t done drugs.”

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Well, good job just sayin’ no, Nancy Reagan.” She blushed, biting her lip. Eddie course-corrected, softer, “What I meant is ‘do you want to try it now?’”

Eyes like saucers, she stared at the joint like it was a giant, twisting roller coaster she was about to board. “I shouldn’t,” she answered shyly.

Eddie shrugged, putting the joint back in between his lips. “Okay.”

Stuttering, she added, “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer! It’s just… sometimes, I get—like my brain is moving really fast and I think—if I… y’know— what if I wig out, like I start seeing things, and start ranting and raving about being abducted by aliens?”

“Were you abducted by aliens?” He said it seriously, with a full measure of concern.

She blinked. “Not that I am aware...?”

“You’d know.” He took a long drag. “So you’re sayin’ you get anxious? Worried about it makin’ you more anxious, or paranoid. That all depends on the strain. In my experience, it has the opposite effect. Helps me relax.”

“How does that work?”

“My anxiety, or the strain?”

“Both…?”

“Different strains produce different effects. Depends on the strain and your brain chemistry.”

“I didn’t know there were different strains. Like different types—is it like an organic versus not organic thing? With pesticides and stuff? Is that bad? Do you use pesticides, or are you all-natural? I mean, not you, but your weed… um, farmer. Is that more expensive if it’s organic? Like… farm-to-table?”

Eddie let out a long billow of smoke. Red eyes taking stock of her. Reading. Pondering. “I’m also a nervous eater,” he answered.

She nodded, mouth forming an O in response.

They gazed at one another for several seconds, before she added, asking “What’s your take on those Danish butter cookies they sell in those round metal tins?”

He took another puff. “The ones that look like rings taste the best.”

Her eyes lit up, filled with renewed fervor. “Right?! I know! Everyone says I’m crazy and says they all taste the same.”

“Bullshit.”

“Exactly! Thank you!” she heaved a huge sigh of relief, which was utterly inappropriate for the situation to anyone outside of her own head. 

“The rings are my fourth favorite cookie type. Maybe my third.” 

Her head tilted. “What’s your favorite?” 

He blew out another pillar of smoke. “Peanut butter.”

Her eyes darted over to the pantry door across the kitchen. She’d taken full stock of the contents the morning she made breakfast. The tiny smile on her face faltered for a just moment, her wheels spinning.

There it was. Her way out.

Her eyes drifted back to Eddie, as he enjoyed another drag. She licked her lips, and tried to steady her voice. 

“I can make some?” she replied, with a glimmer of hope in her voice.

Eddie froze. His eyes wide.

Peter was out of control. He couldn’t even remember how he got there. It was like teleportation. He blinked and was somewhere else.

Chest heaving, sweat beading at his brow, he only had a vague idea of where he was. A warehouse near the East River. He could smell it. He had less of an understanding of what he was doing there. 

It wasn’t until he saw the looks on the faces of Miguel, Noir, and Hobie did he begin to suspect that something very bad had transpired.

“Christ, Pete…” he heard Miguel mutter beneath his breath.

Peter followed his line of sight to see a broken, barely-breathing body at his feet. Broken in the sense that it was no longer shaped like a human. Instead it was a crimson-coated mass, a wheezing, sloppily-folded lump of bloody clothes. 

Blood was everywhere. Soaked the concrete. Coated the inside of Peter’s nostrils. Splattered across his black leather shoes. His breath hitched at the sight. Gaze trailing to his sticky hands, clutching a twisted tire iron. Warm viscera dripped from the end.

He shuddered, finding it hard to breathe. Like he was drowning. Like blood coated his throat and lungs. Tiny droplets ran down his face like raindrops on a window pane. 

An inhuman groan left the pile of broken man at his feet. Not inhuman in the sense that he’d been born an animal, but in the sense that anything resembling a human had been beaten out of him. He was no longer person-shaped. His being alive was a cruelty at this point. Every ragged breath was a curse.

Peter stepped back away from the destroyed body, tearing onyx eyes from the sight. Seeing the way his men stared back at him— horrified— monster— psycho— parasite— maniac— infection— was equally sickening. He pried each of his fingers away from the bent iron, uncurling the twisted metal from his grip.

“Put ‘em out of his misery,” Peter ordered coldly, swallowing back bile as he stepped away from the body. 

Dazed, he drifted towards the entrance of the shipping terminal as if awakening from a dream. His legs were made of concrete. His head throbbed. Needles pierced his eyes. His stomach twisted and gurgled, and similarly drowned by nausea. 

A single gunshot rang out from behind him and echoed off the metal siding of the surrounding containers. The noise made him wince, the sound causing physical pain that was like taking a cheese grater to his brain. He hissed in agony, and at the same time he relished in it. Wanted more of it. Needed it.

“Boss,” a breathless voice called out to him, stirring him from his haze. He looked over to see Felicia standing next to him, a pensive look on her face. How did he get outside? When did it get dark?

“Just get off the phone with Miles,” she said. 

He tilted his head curiously. Whatever dread in her eyes wasn’t directed at him or his actions, and that surprised him as much as it terrified him.

“It’s your girl,” she grimly informed him. “She’s in an ambulance.”

Just like that. 

Cut to black.

This was not a good plan. Not the worst plan Honey had ever come up with (there was that time she tried cutting her own bangs right before the Eighth Grade Graduation Dance), but it was certainly near the bottom. Impulsive, haphazard, and not well-thought out in the least, it was also fairly on brand.

Those were the things she thought as she was being wheeled into the emergency room of Indian Head Mountain Medical Center. Through red, bleary eyes, she caught a glimpse of a sign with the hospital logo and letters spelling ‘Woodstock, NY’ underneath it. That answered one question. Sort of, since she was unaware of how much time had passed in the ambulance.

It had taken about 30 minutes to locate and assemble the ingredients into plump, doughy, peanut buttery balls. She enlisted Eddie’s help to roll the dough, and showed him how to use a fork to make hash marks. He was both delighted and mesmerized by the action. Soothed, even.

His eyes were bulging with excitement as she explained that they were ready to go into the oven. (In reality, she would’ve let them chill in the refrigerator for about 2 hours and it secretly burned her up inside to rush the process and do a halfass job.) Any more waiting, however, and she was afraid she’d lose her nerve.

When Eddie took the first bite of one of her delicious peanut butter cookies, his eyes rolled up in his head with delight. Soon a big, dopey grin widened his face. He savored and swallowed each bite, drifting into a little slice of heaven. Seeing reactions to her treats had always been a rare highlight of working in the service industry. She loved it.

They were good cookies, she noted, her only complaint being she wished she’d had added more nutmeg. 

About 4 minutes after taking the first bite, her lips began to tingle. 

Within 20 minutes she was a heaving, coughing, snot-covered, teary-eyed mess on the floor, slipping into anaphylactic shock.

Eddie handled it well—

whattheshit are you shittin me are you playin stopplayinrightnow sweartogod is this a joke did fuckinjohnnystorm put you up to this fuuccck i am way too high toofuckinhigh for this shit ohmygoddontyoudieonme don’t you fuckin die he’llfuckinkillme are you playing tellmenow holyshitfuck

—as far as she could tell. Up until she started losing consciousness.

Once the epinephrine kicked in, she quickly lamented an unforeseen flaw in her plan. She hadn’t anticipated the amount of time it would take the swelling in her face to wear down.

“You’re almost there, honey, just stay with us,” a nurse reassured her, glancing down over the edge of the gurney railing to look her in her bloodshot eyes. 

What’s with the nicknames? she wanted to ask. 

Instead, she informed the nurse of her real name, and her current address, and her health insurance provider, who her emergency contact was, her blood type, and the small detail about being kidnapped by a mob boss.

She divulged all of that information, despite her tongue being the size of a soda can. 

As such, it sounded more like, “adf meklp mef nii viin kehhaaaf nigh euh maa yahah gung an aire gaa hilla maaahuhh—”

“Just relax,” the nurse replied sweetly, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Try to save your breath, okay?”

Okay. 

This wasn’t working. She was running out of time.

It took roughly 25 minutes for the additional antihistamine booster to kick in. Her vision had cleared and her breathing had returned to normal. Within the first 30 seconds of being left alone, she rose from the hospital bed, quietly switched off her machines, unhooked her IVs, and slipped away. 

Four minutes later, in a different wing outside of the emergency room, she spotted a group of nurses exiting what appeared to be a break room. The rows of lockers inside confirmed her suspicion. She pulled open each unlocked locker door. On the tenth try, she found a gym bag.

Seven minutes later, she jogged through a back door of the hospital, wearing a pair of men’s joggers that were 10 inches too long for her legs, and an equally oversized NYU hoodie. The real treasures were the cell phone and wallet she was now in possession of. 

She was bursting with energy, and it wasn’t just from steroids. 

The act of escaping a safe house, then escaping an emergency room, then stealing a stranger’s possessions, made her feel not as bad as she would’ve imagined. If she was being honest with herself, she felt pretty good. Better than good. Somewhat invincible. There was a humming buzz beneath her skin, blood rushing and pumping through her body. A flush in her cheeks that hadn’t ever been there before. Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird.

It probably wasn’t the epinephrine either.

“911, what is your emergency?” a female dispatcher said through the line. Twenty minutes and a mile and a half later, she was at a payphone near a bus station.

What’s the emergency? she thought. What is the emergency? 

What a loaded question.

A cute boy she had been flirting with at work turned out to be a murderous, mafia ringleader, and had kidnapped her, held her prisoner in his luxury mountain retreat in the Catskills, and had recently divulged to her his plot to kill the Mayor of New York City.

Yes, she needed help, alright. She needed UNICEF. The Red Cross. The Salvation Army. The U.S. Army. Every army, all of them, right now. Send everyone.

“Ma’am, I need you to slow down. Just tell me where you are,” the voice on the other end replied.

Oh, shit. She said all that aloud?

She shuddered, finding it hard to breathe. Like she was drowning. She had only a vague understanding of where she was. Her brain and mouth were moving out of sync. 

Eyes darting around, frenzied, expecting to find Peter standing behind her. 

Not Peter, perhaps, but some roughneck caricature of a goon wearing a long overcoat and a fedora. Or a caricature of Peter wearing a long overcoat and a fedora. Would it be the monster, or her friend? Would he be Prince Charming or Scarface? 

More terrifying, what if he was actually someone worse?

She paused, considering with worry. “No, listen to me! You need to get to 1630 Revello Drive, Apartment 2B, in-in Long Island City. Please!”

“Can you tell me your name?” the voice asked. She stopped her lips before any more words could come out. 

The ghosts of Peter’s story haunted her mind, sending shivers down her spine. Without another word, she hung up the phone, staring at it like it had cursed her. 

Peter was... troubled. Without a doubt. Emotionally dysfunctional, possibly. Batshit crazy, for sure. But was he wrong to be paranoid? 

More terrifying, what if he was actually right?

A disheartening dread settled into her bones. Her limbs felt heavy, like they were made of concrete. 

She needed to get home. Fast.

Four hours and 45 minutes later, after two buses, three trains, and the setting of the winter sun, she was standing across the street from the apartment building at 1630 Revello. She shivered in the freezing air, but not from the temperature. The quiet outside was nothing in comparison to the cacophony inside her mind. 

She hated coming to this street.

The windows on the southern corner of the second story had its blinds closed tight. Warm light illuminated them from behind. She chewed her lip anxiously, trying to simultaneously talk herself into moving forward and running in the opposite direction. 

The thought of the horrible fate suffered by Nasrin and Leyla compelled her to move forward. She inhaled sharply, trying to calm her racing pulse, and exhaled slowly. Took a step forward into the street. And another, and another, and another. Each one building confidence that she didn’t have before. Each one a reminder of where she had been and how far she had come.

Forward. Always forward. 

Forward. 

Until the tires of a black Chevy Tahoe screeched to a stop an arm’s length in front of her, nearly hitting her. Stunned by almost having been run over by an SUV—pay attention to what you’re doing, stupid girl — her feet rooted to the ground. Indignation quickly took over, as she glowered at the vehicle furiously. 

“Watch where you’re goin’!” she barked with a tone she wasn’t used to hearing coming from herself. Her chest puffed up, and she felt like she’d grown half a foot in stature. 

The driver of the vehicle, a dark-skinned man in his 30s, with his curly hair styled neatly into a short fro, simply glared at her through the window. She shot daggers at him with her stare. The newfound boldness she possessed suggested she should drag him out of the vehicle and give him a piece of her mind. 

Until the rear door opened.

The man that emerged rendered her motionless. Rendered her useless. Helpless. Heart pounding. Muscles locking in place. Throat seizing up. Anaphylaxis all over again. 

She couldn’t run. She couldn’t scream. The monster she fought so hard to escape had found her.

“Heya, sweetheart,” her husband sneered, tone dripping with malice. “Long time, no see.”

Continue to Part 9

a/n this one is a shortie, but a goodie. or is it? you tell me. what do you think? just a heads up, the next few chapters are going to deal with some heavy stuff. make sure you read the warnings! love you all, and thank you thank you thank you for your amazing notes!

reblog to be tagged! (since there are over 100 of you its hard to keep track). if i missed you, let me know!

[avocadoguru]

Do we have any sneak peaks for the next part 👀

Also I love wolfrry so much 😭 everything you give us is a blessing

Suddenly she had an idea. Maybe he was at his old apartment. There was a chance he still had it since everything happened so fast, so maybe his lease wasn’t up. He had no reason to be there, and she figured it was a wild goose chase but she wanted answers. Wanted to know if perhaps he was there. It was late but she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t at least try.

*

Standing in front of the apartment door she took a deep breath before rapping her knuckles on the wood. 

When she heard movement and then the clicking of the door lock her breathing halted and she felt a jolt of relief, of hope, and then of dread. Why was he there… Who was he there with?

However, as the door swung open, standing there was a sleepy Niall wearing cotton pajamas and messy hair. His eyes widened when he realized who it was knocking at his door.

“Niall?!”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. Uh… Is Harry here?” She asked looking behind him into the apartment. The lights were off. He was clearly sleeping before she arrived.

“No. Uh. It’s just me here.” Niall scratched the back of his neck and looked up at her before realizing his manners, “Would you like to come in?”

Nodding, Y/N walked in and looked around. It looked exactly the same. All of the furniture that Harry had was still placed around the living room in the exact same spots, “Why are you here?” She turned and asked him. It was all very odd but she felt something click into place suddenly without him even needing to answer. She recalled the picture of Niall on the dresser and how now, in this moment, with him standing in the living room as he turned on a lamp, this place felt like him. Like Niall. The medical books, the knick-knacks…

“Oh… uh- well that’s because, um… I needed a new place. So, I am, uh… taking over the lease. Yeah, and it just worked out perfectly,” he laughed nervously as Y/N eyed him suspiciously.

“Really? Interesting…” She wanted to comment more about that knowing he wasn’t being honest with her but her immediate concern was Harry. “So, I know this may sound a bit overly dramatic but I don’t know where Harry is. I was supposed to see him after I got off work today. I got to his new house and no one was there. I’ve called him and nothing. And now it’s hours later and still, I haven’t heard from him. It’s just… not like him.” A lie. But he didn’t need to know she’d been through this before with him. “So you don’t know where he is?”

Niall cinched his brows together in thought. It would be very unusual for Harry to not be somewhere he said he’d be. Especially when it came to Y/N. He knew how the alpha felt about the human. So now, Niall was concerned as well.

“I haven’t heard from him today at all actually. Umm…” he pursed his lips before continuing, “So, what time were you supposed to get to his house?”

“At 8. He said he’d have dinner ready for me when I arrived.”

“Hmm… And when was the last time you saw him?”

“This afternoon. We drove back from his uncle’s this morning and when we arrived at his house I left right away so I could make it to work on time.”

Niall sat down on the couch and rubbed his palms over his face, “That doesn’t make sense,” he spoke quietly, mostly to himself but Y/N heard him.

Sitting down next to him on the couch Y/N wondered if Niall did know something. His response to not knowing where Harry could be was concerning. She half expected him to joke about how Harry was probably fine or something. But Niall seemed actually concerned. 

“Do you know something, Niall? Anything? Is there something going on I should know about?”

Niall shook his head and kept his eyes down toward the floor, “Nah. It’s probably nothing.” 

There it was. The response she expected of him at the beginning except now it had come too late and she’d watched the way he responded initially. 

“Then why do you seem so concerned?”

Looking into her eyes Niall tried to feign confidence in his words, “Oh… I mean. I was just tired and I was sort of out of it. But you… he’s fine I’m sure.”

She could see right through him. Niall was a terrible liar. She smiled and patted his knee before standing up, “If you say so. But will you please call me if you do know something or you hear from him?”

Niall stood up and nodded, “Of course, Y/N.”

sneak peek from Lupus Noctis/ Chapter 10

[breakerwhiskey]

259 - TWO HUNDRED FIFTY NINE

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Well. We, uh, made up.

I—

[click, static]

It’s not fixed, it’s not like everything is suddenly—there’s still a lot we need to…

(clears throat)

She—she came looking for me. I wasn’t even done transmitting and she well, it was a long conversation and I’m not sure how much I—But I think I can probably give you the highlights. She said she wouldn’t give up. That I could keep moving in whatever direction I want to and she would be right behind me. That she’d stay there until I wanted her next to me. That she—

She told me that she wouldn’t ever stop loving me even if I decided I couldn’t forgive her. That she’d love me even if I chose to love someone else. That she wanted to watch me keep loving the world, in the hopes that it would help me love her again. (a small laugh) And that she wants me to shout at her whenever it seems like she’s forgetting that, whenever she starts to hold me too tightly.

She wanted to start over. That’s the only thing she asked of me. That we could start fresh, get to know each other again, leave everything behind and try to…try to make something new, even if it’s just a friendship. Even if we’re still strangers two years from now.

I told her no. I can’t start over. I won’t. I can’t forget what she’s told me, I can’t box away every contradictory feeling I’ve had for her. And I don’t know where that leaves us but I—in that moment, after hearing the last secret she had from me, that she loves me—I just decided, to hell with it, if this is—if she’s going to spent the next…who the hell knows how long, trying to get my forgiveness, my trust again, then I’m going into that with all the information I can and I—I kissed her.

I didn’t…I didn’t expect anything from it. I just kissed her the once, not a prelude to anything, simple and earnest, but I just had to know. I’ve spent too much time, too many years, not knowing. And maybe it was unfair of me, to ask that of her without being able to promise the exact nature of the feelings behind it but she, uh, she didn’t seem to mind.

She didn’t stop at kissing me once. And the moment she put her arms around me…(laughs) I had no hope. Passion is an emotion that can come from so many origin points and I don’t know if it was love or anger or some combination of what she brings out in me but…well, it turns out just shutting up and working out our issues in different ways is…not a bad idea.

[a door opens behind Whiskey]

So that’s where we—that’s where we are. (smiling) Um, and—

[footsteps approaching]

Well, I’m still not letting her broadcast on my frequencies, but she’s—

(off mic) Yes, I have been talking about you and you know that—

(on mic) Like I said, things aren’t fixed, but it’s—it feels like moving forward for the first time in a long time and—

(distracted) And, um, well she’s been…it’s like a floodgate has opened and—(off mic, laughing) Harry, get off—

[click, static]

(breathless) Sorry, uh…maybe I should keep doing these by myself seeing as someone can’t keep their hands—

[click, static]

Jesus, sorry—I got on here for a reason, you know.

Because, well, I finally got my wish. My other wish. Our date this morning. I don’t even know what to do with the length of this message. I can’t tell where it ends and begins but I’m going to—I’m going to try. I said I’d sit in front of the radio for hours and copy out morse code and I’m sticking to that promise.

It really is nice having so many radios.

I’m recording and it seems like it’s going to keep going for a little while so—

(off mic, exasperated) Harry—

[click, static]

Yeah, okay, I’m gonna go—

Signing off.

[click, static]

[smilesstyless]

Be my tutor

Summary: Harry’s grades got bad and he wants to ask y/n to be his tutor.

Pairing: Highschool!harry x nerd!reader

Wordcount: +2,6k

Trigger warning: mention of blood, mention of sexual assault

“God, Harry, talk to her if you need help. You know exactly what the captain said to you about your grades. She can tutor you,” Niall is done with him. He’s been trying to tell Harry for weeks now he should talk to her, but his problem is he doesn’t know how to start a conversation with her.

“Then tell me how,” he pulls his shirt over his head. He’s been struggling to ask her for a while now. He tried a few times but he didn’t. Why is it so hard for him to ask her to be his tutor?

“Y-You don’t know how to talk to a girl,” Harry nodded his head. “You?” Niall pointed at him, he nodded his head once again.

Looked in every possible spot where she should be, he looked in the chemistry lab, the schooyard, the hallways, and the cafeteria. He didn’t look in the library; he never goes there.

Looked in every possible spot where she should be, he looked in the chemistry lab, the schooyard, the hallways, and the cafeteria. He didn’t look in the library; he never goes there.

He is straight upstairs and already thinking about what he should say to her. He was pretty nervous to talk to her and also he didn’t want to be seen with her, sure his dad could pay someone to tutor him but he wants someone who gets good grades in school and not some adult who already works and makes money.

He is looking through the library, he spots her. He takes a deep breath and walks over to her. He stands in front of her table, she doesn’t care about him at all she is still writing her assignment.

“Can we talk?” Harry asks her. She looks up at him and shakes her head. “Please,” he added.

“What do you want, Harry? I know you hate to be seen with me, now get it over with and insult me,” she is annoyed by him. She hates the way he treats everyone, he hates her every time someone from the team is with him he throws stupid comments at her.

“I-I won’t, Um, I wanted to ask you if you could tutor me?” Harry’s hands are sweaty. He is damn nervous he’s never this nervous for a game.

“And why should I do this?” She’s still annoyed Harry notices that. He sits down opposite her.

“I could drive you, or um— I don’t know, you’re weird okay.” He gets a little louder and packs her things together.

“That’s what I needed to hear. Ask someone else I won’t do it,” she tells him as calmly as possible. She knows kids at school call her weird but it hurts her to say it to her face.

•••

“Damnit,” she curses under her breath. She sees her bus driving away without her. The rain is pouring, she starts to walk, and a car next to her pulls up.

“Let me drive you home,” a familiar voice said to her. He knows he fucked up but he needs her help.

“I’m walking,” she mutters. Harry gets out of the car and hands her a jacket out.

“Take it, it’s pouring,” she takes his jacket, y/n hands him her backpack puts his jacket on and grabs the backpack, and leaves. She can’t deal with Harry one more minute. He doesn’t even care to apologize.

•••

“Oh honey, you could have called me. No one could drive you home,” she kisses her forehead.

“No there was no one,” she mutters under her breath. Her mom knows she lies about that but she doesn’t want to ask her, she doesn't want to talk about it. She sat down on the little couch in the trailer. Her mom made her some tea to warm up, she helped her out of Harry’s jacket.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” She looks at the jacket for one more second.

“A guy gave it to me,” she nodded her head. “He’s a jerk, to be honest,” she added. It feels good to say that.

“How about a movie night? You loved it when you were younger,” she smiles at her daughter. Y/n needed to get her mind off what Harry said, so it was definitely a good idea. These words repeated in her head all the way home. She wants to forget what he said to her. It hurts her.

“Yeah that sounds lovely,” she smiles lightly.

•••

“Mum, how do I talk to a girl?” He sits down on the kitchen counter. His mom is currently making dinner, he needs an answer from her. He can’t ask dad, Gemma would tease him for weeks even months.

“Harry darling, you know how you talk to girls,” she shakes her head. “Is she important?”

“No, I asked her if she could tutor me and she was cold, she didn’t even care. I was nice to her,” he looks out of the window.

“Are you sure honey?” He thought about it once again. He can’t see the problem why she would hate him.

“Yeah, Niall said I should ask her. She has good grades and she could tutor me, I don’t want dad to find out. I don’t want that he pays someone to tutor me, I want her to be my tutor,” he almost mumbled when he said the last part.

“It sounds like you like her,” his mum teases him.

“No mum, I didn’t ask Gemma ‘cause I knew she would tease me but you, that hurts,” he fake gasps.

“Harry, how was training?” His dad didn’t even bother to say hello. He does not care about him at all except for his grades and the football training.

“Good, Coach said we have a good chance to win this season,” you could hear the sadness in his voice. He isn’t even sure if he wants to play anymore. Harry is just pretending.

“Sounds great,” he grabbed himself a beer and went into the living room.

•••

“How did it go?” Niall sits down next to Harry.

“I don’t think she will tutor me,” he looks back at his phone.

“What did you do?” Niall raises an eyebrow. He knows Harry can do stupid things.

“I said she’s weird. I freaked out, I wanted to drive her home in exchange so she could tutor me. It slipped,” Niall bangs his head against the table.

“You have to apologize to her,” he says. He knows exactly how much these kinds of words can hurt people. Harry never dealt with it but still, he has no right to say such a thing to her.

“I won’t,” he crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

“If you want her to be your tutor you have to apologize,” Niall added.

•••

“Your jacket,” she holds his jacket in front of his chest. “Take it,” she mutters.

Harry pulls her into the boys restroom. Her back against the wall, she could feel his breath on her face. His hands rest beside her head, and she takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, for what I said yesterday.”

“You— you,” she points at him, “are apologizing to me,” she points at herself. “Harry Styles is apologizing to me,” she can’t believe this is happening right now. She isn’t used to Harry apologizing or being nice to her.

“Yes, don’t make it a big deal, and keep the jacket if you want to,” Harry left. She is shocked about him, he can be nice if he wants to. She put his jacket on and went outside.

•••

She was sitting alone in the cafeteria, Harry looked at her a few times she caught him looking at her. “Man is she wearing your jacket?” Adam raises an eyebrow. “Are you dating the nerd?”

“I don’t date the nerd, I gave her my jacket yesterday and didn’t ask for it back. Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he shakes his head.

“So, you have a crush on her?” Hunter smirks.

“I don’t. I’m failing class and if my grades don’t get better y’all can say goodbye to winning this season,” he stares at Hunter.

“Just ask your dad for a tutor,” Nico says. Harry doesn’t say a word about that. He doesn't want to explain it all over again.

•••

“Harry?” A familiar voice says his name. She stands in front of his table, her hands are in the sleeve of (now) her jacket. He humps in response.

“I can tutor you, if you drive me,” she’s almost too shy to ask for something in return. Harry looks at her with a big smile on his lips.

“Did something happen? Earlier you refused to even talk to me,” she shakes her head. Harry knew something was off with her.

“No, I just want a ride home,” she mutters.

“Was it someone from the team?”

“Why would you assume something like that? I offer you to help you and you ask me if something happened,” she stares into his eyes. He can see she is insecure.

“Sorry,” he stuffs his things in his backpack and reaches for her hand. They go together to his car, she sits down next to her.

While Harry was driving he rested his hand on her naked thigh. “Harry, I’m not one of your girlfriends,” he mutters a sorry under his breath, and his hand goes back onto the steering wheel. “Niall is nice, he’s nicer than you,” she mutters. Harry shrug.

“I can set you up with him,” she shakes her head.

•••

Harry’s house is huge. Harry closes the front door behind himself, he tells y/n where his room is. “Now the first door on your left,” she opened the door.

“Your room is huge,” she mutters.

Harry leans his head over her shoulder and whispers into her ear, “Let’s go inside before my dad sees you.” On his lips a smile. “Do you want to drink something?”

"No, I'm good. Um—”

“Math, English, and biology,” he smiles. She pulls her biology notes out of her backpack. She explains to Harry how the blood circuit works and she lends him her notes.

“That’s how it works,” their fingertips are touching, and he puts his hands into his lap. He knows she doesn’t want to be touched by him. “No one ever explained it like that to me,” he added.

“I think I should get home, my mum will be worried,” she leaves her notes on the table. She grabs her backpack.

“You can stay for dinner,” he wants to give her something in exchange. He is a bad student and they had to go through the same thing at least six times. She wanted to give up, she knew Harry tried so hard to understand it when she explained for the first time.

“No thank you. I have to get home,” Harry pulls her into a hug, and he puts his hands into fists to not touch her. Y/n is confused why he would hug her all of sudden, she pulls away.

“Thank you. If you lose your mind just tell me.”

“I’m not. Can you pick me up tomorrow?” He nodded his head. He handed y/n his phone out and she entered her number in it.

•••

“Hey, can you help me?” He sits down in front of her. Harry’s teammates are wondering why he would sit with her. “I need a B,” he smiles slightly. He shows her his paper.

“That’s actually pretty good, you have some grammar errors but we can fix it. How did you learn to write like that?” She is impressed by his writing style. She is a good writer, but to be honest she thinks Harry is a great writer.

“I dunno, I always liked to write,” he mutters.

Sitting together during lunch became their thing. He hates to see her alone and he enjoys her company. It doesn’t bother her when he talks about something stupid but most of the time she tries to convince him to read a book. It would help him, but he's stubborn.

“You like my jacket,” he smirks. “Should I drive you home later?” She nodded her head, she hid her hands in the sleeves of her jacket. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. Harry can feel there is something in her mind. She wants to tell someone but she can’t. It hurts him to see her hiding something.

“Okay, gotta go, I have training,” he smiles and leaves.

“Harry has a thing for the nerd,” Hunter is teasing Harry all day about it.

“I don’t, she’s just my tutor,” he clenches his jaw.

“I can tell ya one thing, she hates it to be touched,” Jackson says with confidence. Harry pushes him against the lockers. He grabs his collar and pushes him once again against the lockers.

“You fucking touched her,” he grits out. His jaw clenches. Harry lets go of him. He can’t get into a fight.

“Common she was asking for it,” Harry's hand balled into a fist, and he kicks Jackson straight into his face.

They got into a fight, the coach kicked them out of training. He cleaned himself up and went straight into the library.

“Hey, y/n, can we go home?” He stands in front of her. She packs her stuff.

“Harry, what happened?” She wants to touch him, but he grabs her wrist and pulls her away from his face.

“Got into a fight, it’s no big deal,” he smiles at her.

She refused to let him drive home like this, she showed him where he should drive. Now everything makes sense why he always drops her off on the street and not here. She’s embarrassed about where she lives. She opens the door from her trailer and lets him inside. She went straight into the bathroom to get the first aid kid.

She sits down on Harry’s lap, she soaks a cotton pad with disinfectant and slowly rubs it over his cuts. He flinches a few times. “Why did you fight?” Harry avoids her eyes.

“Found out what Jackson did to you and freaked out.” She freezes. “Do you want to go to the police and report it?” Harry is amazed that she wants to hang out with him after everything that happened.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m used to shit like this happens to me and I’m okay with it,” she cleans his cut up. “I hate it when guys touch me, I’m scared they will do the same again, except you. I trust you,” she swallows a sob.

“You shouldn’t. It’s an amazing feeling, if I could show you—”

“You can show me,” Harry helps her out of her jacket. He slowly slides his fingertips up and down her arm. She rests her forehead against his shoulder.

“I don’t wanna lie to you. I’m not a bad boy. I had only one girlfriend.”

“I believe you, you're too nice to sleep with a girl and then never talk to them again,” she slides her hands under his shirt, she taps her fingers on the soft skin. “You’re a good friend, Styles,” she whispers into the crock of his neck.

“Your first friend, maybe even more if you want,” she humps in response.

“You know it will take a while.”

“I can wait, love,” he kisses the top of her head. “Let’s keep it private, I don’t want to pressure you,“ he added. Y/n nodded her head in agreement.

[petertingle-yipyip]

LOOKALIKE - MULTIVERSE!READER

Pairing: None directly; implied multiverse!matt x multiverse!spidergirl!reader

Word Count: 2,447

Summary: Spider Noire, a female spider themed hero, and Spider-man’s partner. Yanked from her universe and dropped into a new one, she finds someone familiar but still different. // is this great? no. is it fun? eh. am i posting it anyway? yeah. //

This wasn’t New York. You quickly realized that when you nearly collided with a skyscraper in the path you were swinging, one that had been clear less than a blink ago.

Wel, maybe it was. But it wasn’t your New York.

The blocks weren’t set up the right way. Businesses that were on 11th were now on 44th. The bodega you and Matt always went to was replaced with a shoe store. Your own apartment building was now a Target.

With no idea where you were, you ran to the only place that seemed to be familiar. It was late so the chances that anyone was there were minuscule. He was probably out doing his work as the Kitchen’s vigilante but you had nowhere else to go.

You burst through the doors to Nelson and Murdock and found Karen sitting at her desk, a light on in either office to the sides. Your sudden entrance made her jump from her seat as you yanked the mask off your face.

“Thank God.” You sighed. “Is Matt here?”

“Matt Murdock?” She asked carefully.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“No, he’s not here. I can get Foggy for you though, but um.. Who should I tell him is here?”

“What? Karen, c’mon. You know me.” Your brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry.” She let out a nervous chuckle.

“Karen, it’s me. Y/N Osborne?” The blank expression in her eyes made you continue, almost desperate to have her recognize you. “Spider Noire? Black and gold spandex suit?” You gestured to the suit you were still wearing. “I work with Spiderman and Daredevil all the time?”

“You know Daredevil?” Her brows raised.

“What is going on?” You let out a stressed laugh and pushed your hands through your hair.

“What’s going on out here?” Foggy came out and you were relieved to see at least he was the same.

“Y/N Osborne is here.” Karen spoke carefully.

“Osborne?” His brows raised as he turned to you. “You mean Y/N Parker?”

“Parker?” You laughed. “I’m not related to Peter, I’m related to Harry. Remember? We used to joke that Oscorp got me into Columbia.”

“The Y/N I knew was Peter Parker’s older cousin. She applied to Columbia but ended up at MIT instead.”

“Knew?”

“Yeah, Y/N died a couple years ago fighting the Hand.”

“The Hand? No, it wasn’t me that died. Elektra died that night.”

“Matt said you both did.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” You mumbled to yourself. “And that- that- that kid on the billboard? The one who killed fishbowl guy. Who is that?”

“Spiderman?”

“C’mon, guys. Peter’s like my brother. I think I'd know if he was a murderer. That’s not Spiderman.”

“Yes, it is.” He nodded and took a few steps closer. “Are you okay? Is there someone we can call for you?”

“You’re not Foggy.” You said sadly and stepped backwards, fighting back the tears. “You’re not Foggy and I can’t find Peter and something is really wrong.”

“Ms. Osborne, wait.” He tried but you were already running out the door.

You yanked your mask back down and shot a web at the roof across the street. You ignored the shouts from the streets below. Some yelled for you to go home, that they hated Spiderman. They must’ve mistaken you for Spiderman because they yelled that you were a murderer. They hated you, but you had no idea what was happening.

You didn’t know Mysterio. You didn’t know why Spiderman suddenly looked different. You didn’t know why everyone knew Peter Parker was Spiderman. While everything was spinning in your head, your body reacted to something being thrown at you.

You dove out of the way and shot a web at it so you could fling it back at whoever threw it. When you looked over, you saw the familiar silhouette. You let out a sigh of relief before yanking off your mask.

“Thank God it’s you.” You breathed.

“I’m gonna need you to answer some questions.” Matt said firmly and you felt your skin buzz when you realized Matt was ready to fight you.

“Matt?”

“Who are you?”

“Not you too.” You said sadly.

“Who do you work for?”

You groaned loudly and knocked both fists against your forehead.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“I don’t work for anyone! Why does no one believe me?” You shouted, watching as Matt began to walk slow circles around you.

“Fisk?”

“Who?” You asked in defeat.

“Yakuza? Did the Hand do this?”

“No, I-“ You groaned and flicked a quick shot at his feet. “Your pacing is making me anxious.”

“You need to tell me who you are.”

“Oh my-“ You complained before you dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor. “Y/N Osborne. You know me.”

“Y/N…” He said your name softly, as if he hadn’t said it in so long. “But she’s..”

“Dead? Yeah, I’m just as confused as you are… Something’s not right, but I’m not smart enough to figure it out on my own. I thought you could help, but obviously you can’t.”

“You’re not Y/N. Not the one I knew, at least.” Matt said carefully, kneeling to free his foot. The tension in your body had dulled and now you just felt lost. “Your heartbeat is different.”

“How?” Your head tilted and you watched as he pulled off the helmet. Overall, he was the same Matt you knew back home, but his hair was shorter and even though it was messy from the helmet, you knew it was probably styled poorly. That was almost enough to make you laugh but you found a small comfort in seeing the same eyes you knew. The same features, same expression, same inflictions in his voice.

“It’s stronger. You're stronger.”

“You said you knew me as Y/N Parker?”

“Yeah… And you couldn’t do this.” He gave a small smile as he gestured to your webbing. “You trained with Elektra and Stick.”

“Yeah, I knew Ellie. But I met her when I met you, back in college. At Columbia.”

“You’re so different…” He said softly. “You’re telling the truth but… You’re just not my Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m figuring that part out.” You sighed. “You’re a dead ringer for my Matt, though. Perfect lookalike.”

He gave a small laugh. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is.” You smiled softly. “But it isn’t. Just makes me miss him more.”

“Have you tried finding Spiderman?”

“Peter? I don’t even know how I found you.” You laughed nervously.

“Technically, I found you.” He teased and you mimicked him, making him laugh.

“I don’t even know if I’d find this Peter or the Peter I know. Hell, there could be five Peter Parkers floating around now.”

“I could help you.” He offered.

You glanced around the New York skyline and felt an odd sensation. It felt like a string, tugging you and it sent a strange feeling to the pit of your stomach. It sent a tingle across your skin and almost made you shiver.

“No… I think I have an idea.” You said distantly, attention still stuck on that feeling. You felt if you turned away, it would move and you wouldn’t be able to find it again. “If you can’t get out of that-“ You offered over your shoulder as you fixed your mask back into place. “-it normally falls apart in a couple hours.”

“Couple hours?” He repeated in shock. “No. Y/N, c’mon.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. I gotta go.”

“Y/N!”

“Later, Daredevil!” You called as you stepped off the roof.

After what felt like an eternity of swinging in circles, you finally let your feet hit the ground. You yanked your mask again and slammed it at your feet.

“Goddammit.” You huffed and shoved your fingers through your hair.

You stopped on that rooftop and surveyed the nearby buildings, hoping to see a familiar figure in his trademark red and blue spandex. But you seemed to be alone, despite the way your head screamed that you were right.

“Where are you, Peter?” You asked the city, hoping the streets would answer or the lights would point you in the right direction. You didn’t really expect an answer so you jumped when you heard the voice.

“If you’re looking for a fight.” A tired voice came from behind you. You spun quickly with your fists ready, only to find a boy hunched over his folded knees that he clutched to his chest. “I really don’t wanna deal with that right now.”

“A fight? No, no.” You relaxed your hands and folded them behind your back instead. “I- I didn’t realize anyone else was up here. I’m sorry. I can go.”

“Doesn’t matter… I don’t care anymore.”

“Are you-“ You said gently, moving to crouch beside him. “Are you Peter?”

“Mhmm.”

“Peter Parker?”

“Unfortunately.” He muttered. “Who are you?”

“That’s a little uh, bleak. What’s going on, little Spidey?”

“Well everyone looking for me from another universe has tried to kill me so...”

“I’m sorry, another universe?” You repeated in disbelief but that seemed to be the most fitting explanation. “That’s what this is? Huh. Oh man, Pete’s probably loving this.”

“Well this Peter isn’t because tonight has been the worst night of my life and I want it all to be over.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “That seems to be the trend with Peter Parkers, apparently. The whole always having someone trying to kill you bit. My Peter deals with that all the time… Something really bad happened tonight, didn’t it?” You asked gently once you realized just how beat up he was.

All he could do was nod while he clutched his knees a little tighter.

“People call me Spider Noire, by the way.” You sat beside him and crossed your legs. “But most of the time, it’s Y/N Osborne.”

“Osborne?” He repeated quickly. Defensively, almost. “Like- Like Norman Osborne? The Green Goblin Osborne?”

“Norman, yes. But my dad was never the Goblin.” You defended immediately, putting your hands up in surrender. “He died of some sickness. They never tell the kid the details, especially if she’s not the one getting the company… No, that honor - along with the Green Goblin title - went to my brother before he died.”

“Oh…” He replied in a small voice. “What happened to your brother?”

“He died in a fight against Spiderman. Harry - that’s my brother - tried to kill me and his best friend’s girlfriend.. Dropped us down a clock tower. I managed to save myself but Gwen wasn’t so lucky… Kind of a shitty thing to do if you ask me but hey. It is what it is.”

“Against Spiderman…”

“Yeah, but I think it’s for the best.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think I could’ve forgiven him for what he did.” You confessed. “And even if he didn’t die against my Peter, I probably would’ve killed him myself.”

“You wanted revenge on your own brother?”

“To be quite honest, I don’t think he really saw me as his sister… I think he hated me and whatever made him snap just brought it to the surface. And I don’t look like my father so I have a theory that I was adopted but the only people who would’ve known are dead.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.” He offered honestly.

You thought it was kind that he would offer his sympathy to you, despite his clear suffering. You had seen the billboards and magazine stories that criminalized him. You received a handful of the hate and threats intended for him. You saw the news report of the demolished condo building from his fight. You saw the flash of Dr. Connors in his lizard form and the blur of a modified version of the Osborne glider. You knew he was going through hell in those moments, but he still offered you - a complete stranger from an apparently different universe - his kindness.

“Who was it?” You tried. “If you’re okay with me asking.”

“Hmm?”

“Tonight.” You shifted to face him. “I saw that there was a body recovered after a massive explosion during a Spiderman fight. Who did you lose tonight?”

“My Aunt May.”

“Oh no, Peter.” You said gently, putting both hands on his forearms. “I’m so sorry… I know what she meant to my Peter so I can only assume what she meant to you.”

“She was all the family I had left.” He whispered in a pained, broken voice. “How-“ He took a deep breath to settle himself. “How am I supposed to keep doing this without her?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help with that.” You sighed.

“She died because of me.”

“No.” You said quickly. You slid over to be on your knees in front of him to ensure you had his attention. “Peter, I promise it wasn’t your fault. I don’t care how the fight went down but it wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was!” He cried. “I told her- I told her to run. But she didn’t. She stayed with me and now she’s dead! And I couldn’t save her.” His voice fell to a whisper for the last line.

“Guilt is one hell of a burden to carry. Peter, you can’t allow your grief to become guilt because it will ruin you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I saw it happen to my Peter.”

“What happened?”

“I can’t explain to you what he was feeling because I wouldn’t be able to tell his story right but I know someone who can… Do you wanna help me find my Peter? I’m sure he’d love to talk to you.”

“I don’t wanna do anything other than…”

“Other than what?”

“I want to kill Norman Osborne.”

“I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from.” You nodded. “But you’re so young, Peter. You don’t want that type of blood on your hands, do you?”

“The world already thinks I’m a murderer.” He scoffed and threw his hands forward. “What difference does it make?”

“The difference is whether or not you are. Don’t fit into the narrative that the world paints for you.”

“Peter.” A girl said from behind you. You stood and found a girl and a boy, eyes locked on Peter and near tears.

You stepped away and let them embrace their friend. Your attention turned to a feeling from slightly above you and you turned to find your Peter watching. You let out a sigh of relief as he dropped down to embrace you.

But if you only knew how upside down that night would turn, you never would’ve gone out to begin with. Maybe then you would’ve been safe in your own universe.