#dream alan rickman | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muiitoloko · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! Are your requests open? If so, can I request an Alan x child actress reader? Like they're staring in a tv show or something as father daughter. I kinda want some fluff goodness 🥺. Since Alan never had children but I know he's great with kids and he's a method actor if I remember correctly. Not sure about the plot tho so you could have creative freedom with it :)).

Title: Lights, Camera, Fatherhood.

Summary: Alan Rickman reflects on the emotional power of acting as he auditions with a young girl to play his on-screen daughter, forming a bond that promises to shine in their upcoming series.

Pairing: Alan Rickman & Fem! Reader

Warning: none.

Author's Notes: Hello! Yes, my requests are open 😄, and I have to say, this idea is absolutely adorable! 🥺 I can already imagine Alan being all fatherly and sweet on set while staying in character. Thanks for trusting me with the creative freedom—this one’s going to be fun! 😄✨

Also read on Ao3

You sat on the edge of a worn leather bench in the waiting room, your small legs swinging back and forth nervously. Your hands gripped the sides of the bench as you glanced around at the other children and their parents, all of them looking just as anxious as you. Your mom sat beside you, offering a reassuring smile every now and then, but you could still feel the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

This was the final audition. You’d already been pre-selected, and now you were here, just one more step away from possibly landing the role of the daughter in a TV series—a role that had the entire cast and crew abuzz. But what made your heart race even more was the fact that the character who would play your father was none other than Alan Rickman, Professor Snape himself.

You’d been dreaming about meeting him for weeks. In fact, you’d secretly practiced your lines in front of your Harry Potter books, imagining Snape’s voice responding to you. It was funny, really, that you would be auditioning with someone so famous, someone you’d seen in movies—and now you had a chance to be his on-screen daughter. But that also made it ten times more nerve-wracking.

“Mama, what if I mess up?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the other families in the room.

Your mother squeezed your hand gently. “You won’t, sweetheart. You’ve worked so hard for this. Just be yourself, and everything will be okay.”

You nodded, biting your lip as you glanced at the closed door across the room. Every few minutes, it would open, and another child actress would come out, either smiling brightly or looking close to tears. Your heart raced every time the door moved, knowing your turn was getting closer.

And then it opened again.

A little girl walked out, her face a mix of relief and excitement. Behind her, you caught a glimpse of the tall figure of Alan Rickman, standing with the director, his hooked nose and sharp features unmistakable even from a distance. He looked just like he did in the movies, only without the long black robes. He was dressed in a simple, dark suit, but it was the same serious expression you’d seen as Professor Snape.

Your stomach flipped.

“Next, please!” the casting assistant called, her voice crisp as she glanced down at her clipboard.

Your mother gave you an encouraging nudge. “It’s your turn, darling.”

You swallowed hard and slid off the bench, your legs feeling a little wobbly as you walked toward the door. Your hands were clammy, and you had to remind yourself to breathe as the assistant led you into the audition room.

The space was larger than you expected, with cameras set up around the edges and a few people sitting at a long table in the back, watching intently. But it was Alan Rickman who caught your attention. He was standing near the center of the room, his hazel eyes sharp but kind, and he gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile as you walked in.

"Hello there," he said in that deep, unmistakable voice of his. It was softer than Snape’s, less stern, but still had that same gravitas that made your heart skip a beat. “You must be the next potential daughter of mine, hmm?”

You blinked, unsure if you were supposed to laugh, but your mom had always told you that a joke deserved a smile, so you grinned nervously.

Alan chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he took a step closer. “No need to be nervous. I don’t bite—unless the director insists upon it, of course.” He winked playfully, and that little gesture somehow made you feel a bit more at ease.

The director, who had been flipping through some notes, looked up and smiled warmly at you. “Okay, sweetie, we��re just going to run through a scene with Alan here to see how you two work together. Nothing to worry about, just have fun.”

Alan gave you an encouraging nod and gestured toward a couple of chairs that had been set up to mimic a living room. “Shall we, then?” he asked, his voice kind as he waited for you to join him.

You took a deep breath and nodded, moving to sit across from him. Your hands still trembled a little, but Alan seemed to sense that. He leaned in slightly and whispered, just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s just pretend. We’ll make it up as we go along.”

You nodded, and the director called, “Action!”

Alan’s whole demeanor changed in an instant. His posture stiffened slightly, and his expression became serious, though not in the intimidating way Snape might have been. He was now a concerned father, his eyes soft as he looked at you.

“Darling,” he began, his voice deep and measured, “why didn’t you tell me what was bothering you earlier? I thought we had agreed to talk about these things.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you remembered your lines. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” you said softly, doing your best to look down at your lap as if you were sad.

Alan’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward, his voice full of warmth. “Disappointed? In you? Never. You’re my daughter, the most important person in my life.”

The words were simple, but the way he said them—so sincere, so full of emotion—made you feel like they were real, like you really were his daughter, and he was trying to make everything better. You glanced up at him, and for a moment, you forgot you were in an audition room.

“Really?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, a bit of your real nervousness slipping into the scene.

Alan smiled softly, leaning closer. “Really,” he said. “You could never disappoint me. Not in a million years.”

Alan was a method actor, and you could feel him fully becoming the father character, his voice deep and filled with quiet emotion. He made you believe in the world of the story, and soon, your nervousness was forgotten.

But then, in the middle of one of his lines, Alan suddenly made a subtle, funny face—something that was out of character but just small enough for only you to catch it. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you almost giggled. He was playing with you, testing to see if you could keep your composure. You bit your lip and kept going, fighting the smile threatening to break across your face.

When the scene ended, the director nodded approvingly. “Very nice, both of you. The chemistry is really strong.”

Alan grinned and leaned down slightly, so only you could hear. “You didn’t laugh. Impressive. I might need to raise the stakes next time.”

You giggled softly, feeling lighter than you had before. "I can handle it."

As you left the room, Alan called out behind you, “Good luck, young lady. I think we’ll make a good team.”

You turned back, beaming, and gave him a little wave. “Thank you, Professor Snape!” you blurted out, and instantly regretted it, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

But Alan just chuckled, his smile warm and kind. “I think you’ll find I’m a bit nicer than that particular professor.”

As you walked back to your mother, you couldn’t stop smiling. She pulled you into a hug, her eyes twinkling with pride. “How did it go?”

“I think it went well,” you said, still beaming. “Alan Rickman’s really nice. And funny! I almost laughed during the scene, but I didn’t.”

Your mother smiled, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you.”

As you sat back down on the bench, the nerves from before had completely disappeared, replaced by a warm glow of excitement. Whether or not you got the part, you knew you had just shared something special—a moment with a legendary actor who made you feel seen, comfortable, and brave.

And maybe, just maybe, you would get to spend more time working with him. After all, who wouldn’t want Alan Rickman as their TV dad?

Inside the audition room, Alan Rickman sat down with a sigh, running a hand through his silvering hair as the director approached him with a clipboard. His expression had shifted now that the young actress had left the room—no longer the warm, fatherly figure, but the methodical, critical professional that Alan embodied when it came to his craft.

The director, a man in his late forties with wire-rimmed glasses, flipped through a few pages of notes before looking up at Alan. “Well, Alan,” he began, “we’ve narrowed it down to three final candidates for the role of your on-screen daughter. All of them are talented in their own ways, but I wanted your take on them. You’re excellent with children, and frankly, I trust your judgment.”

Alan crossed one leg over the other, a thoughtful expression settling on his face. He had always approached his roles with meticulous care, and that extended to casting decisions. As much as he enjoyed the charm of working with child actors, he knew that the right choice here could make or break the emotional core of the show.

The director handed him a sheet with notes on each of the three candidates. Alan adjusted his glasses and skimmed through them before glancing back up. “Let’s start with the first one,” he said, his voice as smooth as ever but now tinged with a more professional edge.

“Emma, age 8. Strong presence, very polished. She’s already done a few commercials, so she knows her way around a camera,” the director explained, leaning back against the table.

Alan nodded, recalling the audition. “Yes, she has a natural confidence,” he agreed. “But I worry she might be too polished. Her delivery felt rehearsed, as if she was performing a routine rather than reacting naturally. With children, especially in this kind of intimate father-daughter dynamic, you need someone who can live in the moment. Emma’s a talented girl, but I didn’t feel that raw connection.”

The director pursed his lips, jotting down a note. “Fair point. And the second one, Sophie, she’s 9.”

Alan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought. “Sophie,” he repeated, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly. “Sophie has presence, no doubt about that. But I sensed some hesitation. She’s got potential, but there was something... withheld in her performance. I’m not sure if it’s nerves or something deeper. It might come out with the right direction, but she’ll need more work to access her emotions fully.

He paused, looking directly at the director. “And in this role, the father-daughter relationship is crucial. If she’s holding back, it’ll create a distance that the audience will feel.”

The director nodded thoughtfully, flipping to the last candidate. “And then there’s the girl who just left, our youngest at 7 years old. Her name is—”

Alan cut in with a slight smile, “Yes, I remember her. The girl who almost called me ‘Professor Snape’.” His tone was laced with a dry humor, the kind that always softened the edge of his critiques.

The director chuckled. “Yes, that’s the one. What did you think?”

Alan took a moment, his fingers drumming lightly on the arm of the chair. “She’s got something,” he said after a pause. “She was nervous—understandable, of course, given the situation—but she didn’t let it control her. There’s a natural vulnerability there, and that’s what we need for this role. It’s not about delivering a perfect line or knowing how to hit your mark, not with a child this age. It’s about honesty.”

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “She made me believe she was genuinely afraid of disappointing her father. That’s the kind of performance you can’t teach. It’s instinctive.”

The director raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You think she could carry the emotional weight of the role, then?”

Alan nodded firmly. “Yes. She’s not as polished as the others, but that’s exactly why she works. She’s real. She reacts, she listens, and she’s willing to be open. With a little guidance, she’ll give us the authenticity we need. The audience won’t just see a performance; they’ll feel it.”

He paused, his eyes flickering with a warmth that belied the seriousness of the conversation. “Besides,” he added, his tone lightening, “I’m rather fond of her resilience. I tried to throw her off with a bit of improvisation, and she didn’t crack. That tells me she’s quick on her feet.”

The director smiled, clearly valuing Alan’s opinion. “That’s a good sign.”

Alan leaned back, his features softening as he reflected on the process. “One thing I’ve learned over the years, especially with children, is that you have to give them space to be themselves. If you try to shape them into what you think they should be, you lose what’s unique about them. She’s got that spark, and we’d be foolish not to let her run with it.”

The director nodded slowly, absorbing Alan’s words. “So, you think she’s the one?”

Alan smiled, his eyes twinkling with the kind of affection he reserved for special moments. “I think she’s more than capable. She’ll need encouragement, of course, but she’s got what the others don’t—a raw, emotional honesty. That’s something you can’t teach. And frankly,” he added with a wink, “I quite like the idea of having a daughter who’s not afraid to stand her ground against me.”

The director laughed. “Alright, I’ll make some notes. I trust your instincts, Alan. If you’re on board, I think we’ve found our girl.”

Alan nodded, his smile fading into a more serious expression as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes. I think we have. And I’m looking forward to working with her.”

As the director scribbled down his thoughts, Alan glanced back at the closed door where the little girl had exited moments before. A part of him, deep down, had always longed to experience fatherhood, to guide and nurture a child. And while that part of his life had never materialized, acting—particularly in roles like this—allowed him to explore that side of himself in a way he never could in real life.

It was a bittersweet feeling, but as he prepared for what was to come, he knew one thing for certain: this was going to be a rewarding experience, for both him and the young actress.

"Let's make this happen," Alan said quietly, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

And with that, the director nodded in agreement, sealing the fate of the young girl who would soon share the screen—and many memorable moments—with Alan Rickman.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #actress reader

84 notes · View notes

muiitoloko · 8 months ago

Note

Omg I love all your stories about Alan and his characters!! Especially Love Actually’s Harry stories caught my heart. I was wondering is ”Why?” going to get a sequel? Maybe showing Y/N and Harry happy again, perhaps with a long awaited child?

Thank you so much for your posts!! They brighten my days! ✨❤️

Title: Promise

Summary: The promises were fulfilled.

Pairing: Harry (love actually) × Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut and happy ending.

Author's Notes: I'm thrilled that you enjoy my stories featuring Alan Rickman's characters, especially the ones about Harry in Love Actually! Honestly, when I was writing this fanfic with Harry, I actually toyed with the idea of giving them a bittersweet ending because, well, a bit of heartache can add depth, right? But I totally get that readers often prefer the warm fuzzies, so I decided to give Harry and the reader the happy ending everyone expects. Thanks for brightening my day with your kind words! ✨❤️

First, Second, Third and Fourth part here.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, you watched Harry's dedication to rebuilding your relationship with a mixture of awe and gratitude. He was relentless in his efforts to make things right, showering you with affection and attention in ways you hadn't experienced in years. Gone were the days of meaningless gestures and last-minute gifts; instead, Harry took the time to truly connect with you, to make you feel loved and cherished in every possible way.

You found yourself falling back in love with him, rediscovering the joy and excitement of being with him that had been missing for so long. It was like going back to the early days of your relationship, when you were both young and carefree, lost in the dizzying throes of love.

But amidst the whirlwind of emotions and newfound happiness, there was still one topic that loomed large between you: children. It was a subject that had always been delicate, fraught with the pain of disappointment and unfulfilled dreams. You both wanted children desperately, had tried for years to conceive, only to be met with heartbreak and despair each time.

And now, knowing that Harry had harbored resentment towards you for your inability to conceive made the fear in your heart grow stronger. What if he came to hate you for it again? What if history repeated itself, and you found yourselves back in the same cycle of hurt and betrayal?

It was a conversation you knew you needed to have, no matter how difficult or painful it might be. And so, on that day when Harry came to your apartment to spend the day with you, you gathered your courage and broached the subject that had been weighing heavily on your mind.

"Harry," you began, your voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in your chest. "Can we talk about something?"

Harry looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "Of course, love," he replied, his voice warm with affection. "What's on your mind?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. "It's about... children," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's a sensitive topic for both of us, but I think we need to address it."

Harry's expression softened even further, his eyes filled with understanding as he reached out to take your hand in his. "I know, sweetheart," he murmured, his thumb stroking soothing circles on the back of your hand. "It's something we've both wanted for so long, and it breaks my heart that we haven't been able to make it happen."

Tears welled in your eyes at his words, the pain of your shared disappointment washing over you like a tidal wave. "I'm scared, Harry," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Scared that you'll come to hate me again, like you did before."

Harry's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "I wouldn't hate you, not anymore," he declared, his voice steady and resolute. "I was foolish to ever feel resentful toward you. It wasn't your fault; it never was. It was me, unable to resolve my own feelings, letting them fester and grow into something ugly. But I'm different now; I've matured, and I see things clearly. The answer is no, I will never hate you."

The weight of his words lifted a burden from your heart, filling you with a sense of relief and gratitude. "But what if we never have children, Harry?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you struggled to contain your tears. "Can you live with that? Can we... can we be enough for each other?"

Harry's gaze never wavered as he met your eyes, his expression filled with unwavering determination. "We already are, love," he replied, his voice steady and sure. "You and me, together against the world. That's all I've ever wanted, all I'll ever need."

And in that moment, as you looked into Harry's eyes, you knew that he meant every word. Despite the pain and disappointment that had plagued your relationship, despite the uncertainty of what the future might hold, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that life threw your way.

With tears of gratitude streaming down your cheeks, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to Harry's, sealing your love and commitment to each other in a tender kiss. And as you held each other in a tight embrace, lost in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

In the days that followed, the weight of the unresolved issue of children lifted from your shoulders, and you and Harry found yourselves moving forward with renewed hope and determination. There were moments of doubt and insecurity, of course, memories of Harry's betrayal still lingering in the back of your mind. But Harry's unwavering commitment to rebuilding your relationship, coupled with his newfound openness and trust, helped ease your fears and reassure you of his love.

One significant gesture that spoke volumes about Harry's sincerity was his willingness to share his cell phone with you. Previously, he had kept it close, always vigilant about keeping it nearby and not letting you touch it. But now, he handed you the freedom to access his cell phone, giving you the password without hesitation. Likewise, you reciprocated, allowing Harry free access to your phone.

This newfound transparency and trust brought a sense of relief and security to your relationship. Over time, as Harry's calmness in letting you use his cell phone became evident, you found that the insecurities tormenting your mind began to dissipate. You no longer felt the need to constantly check Harry's phone for signs of infidelity; you came to trust him completely and fell even more in love with the new version of Harry.

But that day, as you stood there in disbelief, staring at the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands that you received after visiting the doctor, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. For years, you and Harry had tried to conceive, only to be met with disappointment time and again. And now, in the most unexpected moment, when you had finally made peace with the issue of having children, you were pregnant.

The shock of the news left you feeling numb at first, unable to fully comprehend the magnitude of what it meant. A baby—there was a baby growing inside you, a precious little life that was a testament to your love for each other. It was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you, testing your resolve just when you thought you had found peace.

But as the initial shock wore off, a sense of overwhelming happiness washed over you. A baby! You were going to have a baby, something you had dreamed of for so long. Despite the uncertainties and fears that lingered in the back of your mind, the prospect of becoming parents filled you with a sense of joy and excitement that you had never experienced before.

You debated whether to call Harry and share the news immediately, but something inside you urged caution. Maybe it was the fear of jinxing it, or perhaps the desire to surprise him with the news in a special way. Whatever the reason, you decided to keep the news to yourself for now, planning to reveal it to Harry when the time was right.

So, you spent the rest of the day lost in thought, the pregnancy test clutched tightly in your hand as you contemplated the future. You imagined what it would be like to hold your baby in your arms, to see Harry's face light up with joy at the news. Despite the doubts and uncertainties that nagged at you, there was a sense of peace and contentment in knowing that you were finally going to have the family you had always longed for.

As the evening approached, you found yourself bustling around the kitchen, preparing dinner for you and Harry. It had become somewhat of a routine for him to come over after work, almost as if he unofficially lived with you. You smiled to yourself as you set the table, knowing that Harry would be arriving soon.

Sure enough, as the clock ticked closer to the time he usually arrived, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking. Your heart skipped a beat as you hurried to open it, anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Hey, love," Harry greeted you with a warm smile as he stepped inside, shrugging off his coat. "How was your day?"

You returned his smile, feeling a rush of happiness at the sight of him. "It was good," you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. "How about yours?"

Harry's brow furrowed slightly as he studied your expression, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "You seem... unusually happy," he remarked, his voice filled with amusement. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

You chuckled nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the nervous fluttering in your chest. "Oh, just had a good day at work, that's all," you lied, your smile faltering slightly under his scrutiny.

To your relief, Harry seemed to accept your explanation without further question, his smile widening as he reached out to pull you into a tight hug. "Well, I'm glad to hear it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as you savored the moment. Despite the lingering doubts and uncertainties in your mind, being with Harry always made everything feel right in the world.

After a moment, you reluctantly pulled away, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. "Come on, dinner's almost ready," you said, taking his hand and leading him towards the kitchen.

As you entered the cozy kitchen, the scent of home-cooked food filled the air, making Harry's stomach growl in anticipation. He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

"Well, well, well, looks like someone beat me to dinner tonight," he teased, giving you a playful nudge with his elbow. He then carelessly took his cell phone out of his pocket and placed it on the table, almost throwing it.

You laughed, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at his lighthearted banter. "I figured it was my turn to cook," you replied, shooting him a mischievous grin. "Besides, I wanted to surprise you."

Harry's smile softened, his gaze filled with affection as he pulled you into another hug. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You smiled, feeling a rush of happiness at his words. "Only for you," you whispered, leaning into his embrace as you savored the moment.

As you sat down to enjoy your meal together, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and love. Despite the uncertainties and challenges that lay ahead, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that life threw your way. And as you looked into Harry's eyes, you felt a sense of peace wash over you like a gentle wave, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.

After a nice dinner filled with laughter and easy conversation, you and Harry retreated to the kitchen to tackle the aftermath of the meal. As you washed the dishes, Harry stood beside you, drying them with practiced efficiency.

The sound of water running and the clink of dishes filled the air as you worked side by side, the comfortable silence between you a testament to the ease of your relationship. It was moments like these that reminded you of why you had fallen in love with Harry in the first place, his unwavering support and dedication a constant source of comfort and reassurance.

As you reached for another plate, you felt Harry's arms wrap around you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he nuzzled your neck with soft kisses.

"I missed you today," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Can't get enough of you, darling."

You melted against him, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a cozy blanket. Setting the dry plate aside, you turned to face Harry, your arms winding around his neck as you gazed up at him with adoration.

"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss.

The kiss quickly deepened, passion flaring between you as you lost yourselves in each other's embrace. Harry's hands roamed eagerly over your body, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hot and fierce.

With a needy moan, you pressed yourself closer to him, your bodies melding together in a tangle of limbs and desire. The feel of Harry's lips trailing hot kisses along your neck sent shivers of pleasure coursing through you, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

"You drive me wild, you know that?" Harry murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he trailed his lips lower, his hands sliding down to grip your hips.

You gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch as you felt the familiar ache of desire building deep within you. "Only for you," you breathed, your voice laced with need as you pulled him closer, craving the feel of him against you.

With a hungry growl, Harry lifted you onto the countertop, his hands roaming eagerly over your body as he claimed your lips in a heated kiss. The world fell away around you as you lost yourselves in the passion and intensity of the moment, the need for each other consuming you completely.

Clothes were shed in a frenzy of desire, the air thick with the heady scent of arousal as you gave yourselves over to the pleasure that pulsed between you. The countertop was hard against your back, but you hardly noticed as Harry buried himself deep inside you, filling you completely with each powerful thrust.

With each movement, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo. "Harry," you cried out, your voice a breathless whisper as you surrendered completely to the ecstasy that consumed you.

Harry's response to your plea was a low, guttural groan. You knew you had awakened something primal within him. With fierce determination, he lifted you effortlessly, still buried deep inside you, as he carried you to the bedroom. His queen deserved a bed, deserved everything, and Harry was determined to give you just that.

With a gentle yet firm hand, Harry laid you down on the soft mattress, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you. He wasted no time in rejoining you, his body hovering over yours as he claimed your lips in a hungry kiss.

"You're mine," Harry growled against your lips, his baritone voice sending shivers of desire down your spine. "All mine."

You melted into his embrace, lost in the intensity of his touch as he ravaged your lips with a ferocity that left you breathless. His hands roamed eagerly over your body, igniting a fire within you that burned hot and fierce.

With a low moan of pleasure, you wrapped your legs around Harry's waist, pulling him closer as he thrust himself inside you with a primal urgency. The sensation of him filling you completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the need for him overwhelming in its intensity.

"Harder, Harry," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea as you surrendered completely to the ecstasy that consumed you. "Please, I need you."

Harry's response was a low, guttural groan of approval as he complied with your request, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic. With each powerful thrust, he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo.

But Harry wasn't satisfied yet, not when he knew he could give you so much more. With a determined focus, he shifted his position, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder to get a better angle. The change in position allowed him to hit your g-spot with precision, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Oh god, Harry," you cried out, your voice filled with ecstasy as he drove you to the brink of oblivion. "Right there, don't stop!"

Harry's response was a low, primal growl as he intensified his efforts, his movements becoming more frenzied and desperate. With each thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo.

And then, with a final, powerful thrust, you tumbled over the edge into ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of bliss washed over you. Harry followed soon after, his own release tearing through him with explosive force as he spilled himself inside you, claiming you as his own in a blaze of passion and desire.

As you both collapsed against each other, spent and satisfied, you couldn't help but revel in the aftermath of your passion. Harry's hooked nose brushed against your cheek as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips, his glasses askew and his chest heaving with exertion.

"You're incredible," Harry murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you."

As you lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of your passionate embrace with Harry, tears welled up in your eyes. The intensity of your love-making had stirred something deep within you, a profound sense of connection and belonging that left you feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

Feeling loved in that moment, you knew you could no longer keep the news to yourself. As Harry nuzzled your neck with soft kisses, you felt his warmth enveloping you like a protective cocoon, and you knew it was time to share your joy with him.

But as you tried to compose yourself, Harry noticed your tears, his expression shifting from one of contentment to one of confusion and concern. His brows furrowed as he looked at you, a hint of desperation in his voice as he questioned what was wrong.

"Darling, what's the matter?" Harry asked, his baritone voice filled with worry. "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, trying to hold back your tears as you reached out to caress his cheek. "No, Harry, you didn't do anything wrong," you reassured him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I have something to tell you."

Harry's confusion deepened as he studied your face, his eyes searching yours for answers. But before he could say anything else, you interrupted him with a tender kiss, pouring all your love and affection into the gesture.

When you pulled away, Harry looked at you with a mixture of surprise and anticipation, his eyes wide with curiosity. "What is it, love?" he asked, his voice gentle and encouraging.

Taking a deep breath, you met Harry's gaze head-on, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm pregnant, Harry," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just went to the doctor today to do some tests, and... the doctor confirmed that I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence as Harry processed your words, his expression frozen in disbelief. Pregnant? The word echoed in his mind, sending shockwaves of realization through him.

Slowly, Harry reached out to take your hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he squeezed yours tightly. "Are you... are you serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks as you met Harry's gaze with unwavering determination. "Yes, Harry, I'm serious," you replied, your voice filled with love and hope. "We're going to have a baby."

Still in a state of disbelief, Harry remained silent, his eyes locked with yours as he struggled to process the magnitude of what you had just told him. You started to feel nervous, the silence stretching between you as you waited for his response.

"Harry?" you called out tentatively, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Are you okay?"

But Harry didn't respond. Instead, he pulled out of you and left the bedroom, leaving you sitting on the bed, confused and heartbroken. You wrapped the sheets around you, feeling a sense of sadness washing over you as you wondered if Harry was leaving, if he didn't like the news of the pregnancy.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you contemplated the possibility of Harry walking away from you. But just as despair began to consume you, you were interrupted by the sound of Harry returning to the bedroom.

Your heart skipped a beat as Harry knelt in front of you, a velvet box in his hand. With trembling fingers, he opened the box, revealing a beautiful ring nestled inside. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized what was happening.

"I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to do this," Harry began, his voice filled with emotion. "The right moment. And I realize now that this is the rightest time I could find."

He looked up at you, his eyes shining with love and sincerity. "So, do you want to marry me again?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

Tears of joy filled your eyes as you looked at Harry, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. "Yes, Harry, yes!" you exclaimed, your voice choked with emotion. "I want to marry you again."

With a relieved smile, Harry slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly as he made a silent vow to cherish you for the rest of his life.

"I promise, love," Harry whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I'll do things the right way this time. I swear on my life."

And in that moment, as you looked into Harry's eyes, you knew that despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart to heart. With Harry by your side, you were ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that your love would carry you through any storm.

As you stood in the park, the warm breeze gently rustling the leaves of the old oak tree, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. This tree held so many memories for you and Harry, memories of the promises you made to each other all those years ago, when you were just young and in love.

With a soft smile, you reached out and traced the initials carved into the rough bark of the tree, feeling the familiar grooves beneath your fingertips. "H + Y," you whispered, your voice filled with affection as you remembered the day you and Harry had carved your names into the tree, sealing your love and commitment to each other for eternity.

As you gazed at the initials, lost in the memories they evoked, you felt a small hand slip into yours, tugging gently at your fingers. Looking down, you saw your son Hadrian standing beside you, a determined expression on his face as he stared up at you with wide, innocent eyes.

"Mommy, help me write my name," Hadrian pleaded, his voice filled with excitement. "I want it to be next to yours and Daddy's."

Your heart swelled with love as you looked at your son, his resemblance to Harry strikingly evident in his bright eyes and unruly mop of brown hair. He was the light of your life, a constant source of joy and laughter that filled your days with happiness.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied, bending down to his level and ruffling his hair affectionately. "Let's go write your name together."

Hadrian nodded eagerly, his small fingers grasping the stick tightly as he carefully began to trace the letters of his name onto the bark of the tree. You watched with pride as he concentrated intently, his tongue poking out slightly from the corner of his mouth in concentration.

"Good job, buddy," you praised him, unable to contain the smile that spread across your face. "You're doing great."

Hadrian beamed up at you, his eyes shining with pride as he finished writing his name. "Look, Mommy!" he exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the crooked letters carved into the tree. "I did it!"

You laughed at his excitement, feeling a swell of love and gratitude in your heart as you looked at your son. "Yes, you did, sweetheart," you replied, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you."

As you held Hadrian in your arms, surrounded by the beauty of the park and the warmth of the afternoon sun, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. Despite the obstacles and challenges you had faced along the way, here you were, together as a family, happy and fulfilled.

Looking over at Harry, who was standing a few feet away, watching the scene with a proud smile on his face, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. He had been your rock, your partner in every sense of the word, and together, you had weathered every storm that life had thrown your way.

"Come on, Mommy," Hadrian said, tugging at your hand impatiently. "Daddy's waiting for us."

You chuckled at his eagerness, allowing him to lead you back to where Harry was standing. As you approached, Harry knelt down to scoop Hadrian up into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek.

"Did you write your name, buddy?" Harry asked, his voice filled with pride as he looked at Hadrian.

Hadrian nodded enthusiastically, his face beaming with excitement. "I did, Daddy!" he exclaimed, wriggling in Harry's arms to show off his handiwork.

Harry laughed, his eyes sparkling with joy as he looked at the crooked letters carved into the tree. "That's amazing, Hadrian," he said, pressing another kiss to his son's cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

You smiled at the sight of the two of them, a wave of love washing over you as you watched them together. This was what happiness looked like, you realized, not the absence of challenges, but the presence of love and family to face them together.

As Harry turned to you, his eyes filled with love and gratitude, you knew that the promise you and he had made all those years ago had been fulfilled. You were happy, truly happy, and nothing could ever change that.

With a smile, you reached out to take Harry's hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he squeezed your fingers tightly. Together, you stood there in the park, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the love of your family, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that life threw your way.

#alan rickman #harry #love actually #harry x reader #alan rickman x reader #oc

81 notes · View notes