#harry is absolutely done with their shit and just wants his parents back together

[conise]

*jegulus as divorced parents and their child harry who is absolutely done with them*

harry: dad, guess who's here

regulus: my brother?

harry: your husband

regulus: i don't have a husband, call the police

james: *appears and leans against the door frame with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips* your EX-husband

regulus: i'll call the police

[queers-gambit]

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

prompt: ( requested ) basking in the sunshine, breathing fresh air, bare skin tickled by tall grass, and Felix, who can't focus on the Half Blood Prince when his girl's got his full blooded attention.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 2.3k+

note: i wrote this in an hour 'cause, you know, brainrot.

warnings: slight request variation (you'll see), there's probably cursing. anyways, suggestive language, no real spoilers, slight Ollie slander, college kids doing drugs, and no HP spoilers for those who haven't read.

All you could smell was his expensive cologne, barely breaking a sweat under the summer sun as he remained wrapped around you like a child did their mother on the first day of school. You were never one for suffocating affection nor clingy behavior, something leftover from childhood, but with your boyfriend, you craved it; and he knew it. He took advantage of it.

"Are you even listening or are you too busy trying to identify the smell of my shampoo?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, 'M listenin', love, uh, you know, something about... Harry doing something stupid, yeah?"

You snorted lightly, head tilting back to look up at your boyfriend's amused expression. "A lucky guess - 'cause Harry's always doing some dumb shit."

"Yeah, you know, there's a reason he wasn't considered for Ravenclaw."

"Don't be mean, we all have our strengths and weaknesses," you gently reprimanded. "So he's not the smartest guy ever, but he's brave as hell, isn't he?"

"Has to be, being a Gryffindor and all."

"I doubt we would've done half this shit at 16."

"Totally right, we had other worries - like our first pregnancy scare."

"Felix!"

"What, doll face? Huh? C'mon, what's the quote? I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

"Oh, you absolute cheesy fuck!"

His laugh could've echoed across the field, the two of you laid out on an oversized blanket; crushing the long grass surrounding his home, Saltburn. 'Home' always felt so mundane when describing the freaking castle his family inhabited; after all, his father, Sir James, was literally knighted - making the Cattons feel larger than life. You'd known the family for over a decade now, meeting Venetia on your first day of school when a rude boy smacked your lunch tray right out of your hands, being inducted to their family almost straight away.

As it turned out, your mother and father were friendly with Sir James and his wife, Elspeth Catton, and after only a month in your new town, you were invited to Saltburn for a family meal.

It became a monthly occurrence.

And when you started dating Felix when you were both 15, it was like life was simply alining with the stars. Destiny being fulfilled. Fate smiling on you both.

Your parents tried to play off the relationship, but after you turned 16, they realized how serious you two seemed about each other. And when you both decided to attend Oxford together (rejecting your father's alma mater, the University of Edinburgh), your mother made constant jibes about your wedding. At first, it was just a few, little, sometimes funny, but mostly harmless comments here and there, and then it escalated to full-on conversations between your mothers.

Like they had flowers and color scheme picked out, deciding on hosting at Saltburn, even debating wedding dress ideas! Your mother wanted something lacy, Elspeth wanted something form fitting and "sexy" - being where their opinions clashed and the conversation elevated to near arguments.

Anyways, laying on the blanket in the field, alone, became a regular occurrence for you and Felix once you realized the absolute HOLD the Harry Potter series had on you both. Where the brother and sister had matching HP star tattoos on their hands, that had convinced you to get a set of three stars - your only tattoo, nestled behind your left ear. Venetia technically got you into the series, letting you borrow the first book, and then gifting you each book once published; but it was more like a "tradition" to read them with Felix.

See, when you were younger, you had a stutter that made you wildly insecure, but reading out loud helped you work through it. Was it a perfect system? Of course not, but your boyfriend was adamant that it'd help - and eventually, it did. So much so, you received top marks in each of your public speaking or debate classes, something the Catton's still praised you over.

Felix liked listening, and the times you got a little tongue-tied and frustrated, he would take over to let you a small reprieve. Today was no different, laid in the field, the grass tickling your bare feet and calves as the sun soaked into your bare skin. Either of you only wore a pair of sunglasses, Felix sat up on his elbow to support your body laid against his; his fingers dancing light patterns over whatever body part he could reach. Currently, it was your hip.

He laid quick kisses where he could, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, used his teeth to nibble your flesh. Anything to make you trip over your words, like the little shit he was.

You felt your breathing shift when Felix's lips and tongue ghosted up your neck, sweeping stray strands of hair from your shoulder before his fingertips were ghosting over your collarbone and down your chest to tweak your nipple. The cold of his bracelets and watch on your sticky skin felt like a drastic contrast to the warmth of the day.

"You're infuriating, I'm trying to read," you scolded, swatting his hand away; but smirking in amusement that assured him you weren't truly annoyed.

"Roll over, sweetheart, I needa rest my arm," he muttered in your ear, licking the shell - making you squirm with a small giggle.

"Can you behave? For once?"

"How can I? When you look like this? I mean, Goddamn, I really got the prettiest girl, don't I?" He smirked, watching you lift off his chest to roll onto your stomach; perched on your elbows. "Now, that's a sight, might be my favorite," he grinned, bringing his hand down to smack one of your arse cheeks - palming the flesh tightly, giving a jiggle for his amusement.

"Felix!" You squealed, fully anticipating this treatment; trying to hide your full-teeth grin.

"C'mon, love, let's get a bit naughty," he teased. "Oliver doesn't get here for another two days, we're not gonna be alone much longer."

You scoffed lightly, "You're the one who had to befriend The Clinger."

"Oi, c'mon now, tellin' me t'be nice about Harry? Don't call him that, love, he's just a lonely chap. Needs a friend."

You hummed, readjusting the book under you. "He's a bit creepy, Fi," you admit. "I mean, he stares - like a lot. And remember I told you, I saw him looking through your dorm window that one night?"

He sighed, "He was just drunk, love, we've been over this."

"You're so quick to excuse him," you noted, offering him a bewildered look as he readjusted to lean over your back. His head nuzzled between your shoulder blades, letting a hand pet down the slope of your spine; forcing a small tremor through your muscles.

"He's got no one else."

"Doesn't mean he needs you, my sweet boy. Honestly, you stretch yourself too thin. Maybe if you focused less on these so-called friends and more on your studies...?"

"I appreciate the worry, babygirl," he mused, laying three kisses to your shoulders, "but it's all right, got you quizzing me nightly. Swear, you know my coursework better than I do. And besides, you're the one who says there's no such thing as too many friends."

"Hm," you let your eyes roll slightly, "I was obviously high when I said that and probably didn't mean bloody Oliver."

"Speaking of," he grinned, reaching for the rucksack he brought with you; now hosting your clothes, but also carrying the Altoid tin he used to store pre-rolled joints.

"Are you even listening to the story anymore, baby?"

"Of course I am, toots, I can multi-task." You hummed in response, waiting for him to finish lighting up before continuing onto a new paragraph; feeling him shift on your back. But you faltered when smoke blew against your cheek, Felix's lips descending a moment later to noisily smooch your skin. "You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled.

"I think you have ADHD."

"We knew that."

"Maybe you need something for that."

"Because I'm not listening to Harry Potter?"

"I knew it!" You laughed, shivering again when his free hand drew up your spine to nestle in your hair; handing you the joint with the other. "Fi, you're still distracting me," you moaned slightly, leaning your head back into his touch - contradicting your own words.

"You're doin' great, love," he grinned, licking the skin behind your ear, at your tattoo. "Keep goin', c'mon, I wanna hear what happens next."

"You're gonna reread this chapter when I go to bed, aren't you?"

Felix paused, "Maybe."

You grunted, dropping your head to the book before lifting it again and taking an inhale from the joint. Felix grinned at you in mischief, rolling over onto his back; hand behind his head as he stared up at you. You shook your head at him, handing the joint over before shuffling so you were laid on his chest with the book spread open in one hand.

"Love?" He mumbled.

"Hmm?" You glanced at him.

"Maybe... Uh, yeah, maybe start the chapter over? I'm a bit lost," he snickered, coughing when you tisked at him and offered a slightly annoyed look. "C'mon, baby, you can't tell me you were totally focused, either! You love me touching you, I can see it on your face."

To prove his point, the arm he had wrapped around you drifted to, once more, take a handful of your ample bottom - causing you to gasp slightly.

But you pouted, "I kinda want to finish this chapter, baby."

"And I'm distracting you?"

"Obviously."

Felix laughed, "Spot on Professor Snape, baby."

"If I read like Snape the rest of the chapter, will you pay attention to me?"

"You know what? I don't know, that voice is kinda a turn on... Everything you do is a turn on, doll."

"You'd think the consistent fucking we do would rein in your hormones."

"Nah," he tutted, squeezing his hand, "not when I got a girl like you, gettin' me all riled up. I mean, Half-Blood Prince, who? Got me full blooded, right here." You chuckled when he glanced at his cock, folding the book closed and deflating onto his chest and accepting the joint again. "Oh, c'mon, don't stop, 's just gettin' good!"

"You were calling Harry stupid literally 5 minutes ago."

"Come off it, when isn't he?"

"When he's fighting Voldemort?"

"Hm," he considered, tucking his hand into your hair to massage your scalp; gently pulling through your hair. "You might have a point."

"And now Dumbledore's - "

"Hey, hey, no spoilers!"

"It's not a spoiler if you were listening to me!"

"I'm always listening," he whined, you blowing smoke across his abdomen; watching his abs contract from the slight tickle; his cock bobbing from the movement and making you flush with heat not from the sun. "You're just so much more interesting, hmm?" He mumbled.

"Hey, hey. Flattery gets you everywhere with me," you teased, loving the easiness of his smile. "C'mon, pretty boy, your turn."

He took the joint from you, watching you try to pull back - but tightening his arm. "Stay here, love havin' you close," he mumbled, placing the joint to his mouth and reaching for the book again. Not wanting his arm to retract from your form, you reached up to take the joint from him; listening as he went back to the beginning of the chapter while your leg hiked up his hips.

Every other puff, you fed Felix the joint until there was nothing left; wee small roach being stubbed out in the dirt, leaving you two relaxed, high, and laid over one another as he continued to lazily read. But his hand still traced invisible patterns over your skin, the warmth of the sun making you sweat, but the way your boyfriend touched you made you shiver.

He knew you loved it, yet didn't so much as stutter on a single word when his smirk would grow feeling your reactions to his touches.

At the end of the chapter, he glanced down at you and let his lips follow; tightening his arm to bring you in closer, leaving repeated kisses on your forehead. You squirmed closer, giggling and bringing your hand up to hook around the back of his neck, directing him to your lips as he rolled over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. "You're distracting me, now, li'l minx," he teased.

"Oh, how unfair, what ever shall you do?"

He chuckled, pecking your lips twice more, then asking, "Another chapter or...?"

"Yes, one more chapter," you laughed, "but then we're gonna have to head back up, your mum wanted my help with something."

"Oh, she's got you some new dresses she wants you to try," he relaid.

"I thought she stopped doin' that?"

"She loves spoiling you," Felix eased. "And Venetia stopped letting Mum dress her, so, you know... Here, you read this one."

You agreed, letting him readjust so he was sat up again, keeping you between his spread legs so he could peer down at the book from over your shoulder. Was it distracting, feeling his fully blooded cock at your back? Absolutely. Was it mildly erotic for you to ignore it and continue reading - as if his warmth wasn't making you wet? Also, yes.

"Fi," you whispered when his lips danced across your shoulder. "Distracting me, again," you half-scolded.

"You're doin' great, love," he chuckled.

But he didn't stop, it was like he was turning himself on (more) by his soft, gentle touches; and being spurred onward when he noted the way your chest heaved when your breath changed.

"Keep goin'," he whispered in your ear, dragging his hands up to cup either bare breast and swipe his thumbs around your nipples to stiffen them into peaks.

"Felix - "

"Don't stop," he encouraged, "'s real endearing the way you're tryna fight this."

"You try to get between me and Potter one more time, we're going on a sex strike."

There was a pause as you looked up at him, both sharing growing grins before bursting into echoing laughter that Venetia heard from one of the loungers close to the house. She grinned to herself, turning the page of her own Half-Blood Prince book.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Request for Nico di Angelo!

Hello! If it's okay, may I request Nico with a (GN or male) reader whos got like, super serious mommy issues? Like, they'll be in a bad mood during the last day of summer solely because of the fact that they have to see their mom once they get home. And it's not even bc they're a misbehaving kid, it's just because their mom absolutely sucks. Maybe where their mom has a bunch of pointless rules, too. Like, nothing to do with cats, praying every morning, going to church every Sunday and church school every Monday, etc. And readers just done with life during the year. They'll purposely go on quests the last week if they get the chance just so they don't have to go home, too. Lmao, just realized this is sorta venting in a way, so sorry. It's alr if you cant do my req. Take care and have a nice day/night!

this is a short one but I really like it, so... and by the way, if anyone ever wants to just vent in my inbox please feel free too, there's no judgement on this blog and you're so strong <3 <3 <3

You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own---Nico x reader with a shitty mum [fluff, dw] »»————-　★　————-««

-Nico would be that person who’d offer to kill anyone you hated

-But he would be completely serious

-Like, no fucking around. He knows how much you despise your mum. But it’s so very hard to hate parents because they're still your parents. Godly parents are a whole different story, but the mortal ones are hard to loathe without feeling shit about it inside, so it becomes this sort of silent resentment. 

-Nico knows that. Sort of… well, from knowing you, really. And he may have planned out your mortal mother's death in a very excruciating way, with a few backup plans just in case.

-You shut that down when he mentioned it subtly, so he went back to rubbing your back and bringing your favorite snacks from the stash Cecil had secretly [everyone knew] imported from the mortal shops, then hissing at people like a rabid cat when they asked where you were. 

-He’s very good at scaring campers off.

-You’d be eating shitty junk food and sweet red strawberries in your cabin and listening to Harry Styles’ song Matilda [Hazel had bought you his record for your birthday last year] pretending your head wasn’t spinning with thoughts about how much you wanted to run away from home, and then the shadow’s by your bed would thicken and your boyfriend would just launch himself onto you.

-You’d gotten pretty used to it, obviously, and now you were pretty much immune to jumpscares. 

-It was a handy skill to have considering how many horror movies you and Nico would watch together. He liked to critique how realistic the deaths actually were, and you liked to watch his nerdy face and tease him for jumping when Ghostface crept out from behind a doorway. 

-But sometimes, mainly the days before you had to return to your mother and the house filled with crosses and rules and arguments and not enough pet cats for your liking, not even movie marathons and picnics in the strawberry fields could help your mood.

-So, Nico would resort to his back up backup plan [not the murder one, the happy boyfriend one], which was cuddle piles. 

-It had taken him quite a while to get used to touch, but between Jason’s ‘how to ask out that random dude you're obsessed with’ classes [you were the random dude] and the fact you liked to hold his hands, he would say that he was quite the expert on hugs now. So he’d wear the biggest jumper he could find, probably one of Hazel’s flowery ones, and drag you into bed. 

-Thankfully his bed was no longer a coffin [they had been turned into bookshelves] and was big enough for you both to squish in. So he’d stroke your hair and nod understandingly when you scoffed about how stupid it was to send a literal child of a Greek God to a church. 

-It wasn’t even a nice church, apparently. It smelt like socks. 

-He had a very good speech for these complaints, which you both knew the words to by now.

One day, very soon, you’re gonna get a job, or a smart person class at college, and you’ll never have to go to Sunday school again. We’re gonna get our own house too. With lots of tea and toast. And rescue cats. And we can name them after your favorite famous people and book characters and we’ll have a huge squishy couch too we can watch horror movies on. 

There’ll be lots of posters on the walls and no one will tease you about being a little kid and you can wear whatever clothes you want. Maybe not orange ones though. I think we’re all sick of oranges. 

And all of our friends can visit whenever they want to, and we’ll have all of their snacks as well. And toothbrushes.  

And we can have Christmas there, without all of the bad stuff. We can decorate the tree really badly. You don’t have to invite your mum. At all. And if she shows up, her coffin will be shaped like a fish. They’re a real thing, you know, fish-shaped coffins. 

You’ll never have to see her again. We’ll have our own place. I promise.

You can throw a party full of everyone you know, and not invite your family, 'cause they never showed you love. You don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.

I promise. 

»»————-　★　————-««

[gurugirl]

The Forbidden Part IV*

Summary: Harry is your stepbrother and from the first moment you two met there’s been an intense attraction that you’ve been unable to deny. But life and outside opinion can get in the way of you and Harry ever really being able to be happy together in the way you both want.

Pairing: artist!reader + musician!harry (stepbrother!Harry)

A/N & Warnings: this will be a multi part short series (short for me). This is stepbrother!harry and reader mc so if you aren’t into that this series won’t be for you. Warnings include smut, lots of angst, mentions of drug use and inebriation by alcohol, cheating, choking, unprotected sex, gooey expression of emotions type of shit, NSFW, 18+ only (comprehensive list for all parts - I may add to this in the future) 5.6k words

Part 3*

Part IV* Since the First Night We Met

3 years later

It’s absolutely insane for you to be doing what you’re doing right now. Harry has you locked in the bathroom at the restaurant you’re both dining at with your parents.

You got up to use the bathroom and cool down a bit. You were feeling nervous because you and Harry had planned to tell your parents that you were a couple and planned on staying together no matter what they said and you were both going to do it after the dinner was done.

But then Harry came in after you and now he’s got you pinned against the sink counter, his hips rutting into you where you can feel he’s hard under his pants. His got a hand under your dress, squeezing at your ass and the other is holding you by the throat keeping you close to him.

You push at him to lean back so you can speak, “Harry, we can’t do this right now. Not here!” He disregards your words and presses his lips right back over yours and then applies more pressure at the sides of your neck.

Harry makes you dizzy. He’s always so forceful with you but you like it. A lot. You always have. Now you and Harry have been together for three years and it’s time to finally time come clean to your parents.

You and Harry just want to be open with everyone. Your friends know already but now you’re ready for more. You want to live together. You practically already do. Well, Harry will be moving into your apartment next month so if you don’t tell your parents now, they’d figure it out one way or another when they come to visit you at home. It’s best to just tell them.

Harry undoes his belt and pants and lowers his jeans. He pulls your panties to the side, “Knew you’d be soaked for me already. So desperate for brother’s cock like always.” He chuckles.

You moaned as Harry pulled his heavy cock from his briefs and lines himself up to you. You have already resigned yourself to this. Harry doesn’t stop when he’s made up his mind. He’s going to fuck you and you’re going to let him.

“What’s that? Whining for me, sis? Wanna come on my cock? Cream all over your brother’s dick while I come inside of that desperate pussy?”

He pushes in and it’s over. You’re gone. He’s so good, knows your body so well, knows just what you like that makes you come over and over again. He’s been fucking you for years and you’ve had sex in public bathrooms a dozen times. Harry likes to have you wherever and whenever he wants and you let him have you. Because you like what he does and you want it.

Harry’s thrusts are long and deep and he presses into you in a pace that works perfectly for how you’re angled against the sink counter. You’re both pretty much pros at this so it works well and you’re going to get off like this pretty quickly.

“God I need you. Feel so thick. Look.” You speak to Harry as he fucks you. You direct your gaze to where he’s stuffing your cunt and how his cock is stretching your soft flesh around him.

“Mmm, stretching your cunt with my cock, sis. That fertile pussy is just begging for my come.”

He leans in to kiss you and continues rocking into you. And it doesn’t take long after he moves his lips down to your neck and stuffs his fingers into you mouth while you rub your clit for you to begin to quiver and throb with your orgasm spreading over your body.

Harry slips his fingers deeper into your mouth, causing you to gag a little and to keep you quiet as he begins to come with you, pouring himself into you in relief.

“Fuck, babe. You always squeeze the shit out of my cock.” He laughs as he pulls out and reaches for the hand towels to help wipe you up a little.

You adjust your clothes and wipe your face and smooth your hair as Harry takes care of his own appearance.

You leave the bathroom quickly and get back to your parents.

“You okay, hun? Took you a while. Harry’s been gone a bit too.” Anne asks you.

You raise your brows and smile, “Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry. Didn’t mean to take too long.” You looked at your dad and he was assessing your words, you could tell.

Your dad hasn’t forgotten about what he saw all those years ago. In fact he has a hunch (that he’s kept to himself) that you’re fooling around still.

Then, Harry arrived at the table just as the waiter began setting everyone’s plates down for everyone.

Eating dinner felt painful. You were not hungry. Your nerves were a wreck. Your tummy bubbled in worry. Harry wasn’t as nervous as you but he was feeling anxious to get it over with.

Conversation flowed nicely, thanks to Anne. When plates were cleared and your dad was getting the check (he insisted on paying) Harry tapped his fingers in the table and cleared his throat. That was the signal. He was about to speak up. Like you’d planned, he grabbed your hand before speaking and both your dad and Anne looked between you two in confusion.

“We wanted to tell you both something tonight. Please let us speak and then you can say what you need. Okay?”

Harry was looking directly at your dad who was beginning to get red in the face. He knew what was coming. He’d known deep in his guts this was going on.

Harry looked to you and gave you the sweetest, softest smile he’d ever given you and it nearly had you in tears. He lifted his head back up to look at his mom and then your dad.

“I’m in love with your daughter. She’s in love with me.”

Your dad begins to stand up but you put your hand out, “Dad, please stop. Please listen.”

Anne is also holding on to you dad, anchoring him in place. He looks down at Anne and softens and sits back down.

“I’m only going sit through this because of her,” he points to his wife, “and when you’re both done relieving yourselves of the burden of years and years worth of lies and guilt we are leaving here and I don’t want to hear from either of you for a long time.”

Anne gasps and looks at Harry with worried eyes.

“Fair enough.” Harry speaks calmly as he squeezes your hand.

Everyone sits looking at one another for a few moments and then Harry resumes, “We have been together since the first night we met, essentially. I fell in love with her quickly and I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”

Harry paused briefly, taking a needed breath, “We know this isn’t a good look. People don’t like the idea of stepbrother and stepsister, and we get it. But the truth of it is… is that we met as adults, not as children who grew up together as brother and sister.”

You decided to speak up to give Harry a little break, “It’s true. We’ve never even thought of one another as a sibling. We fell for one another fast. I’m sorry that it happened this way but that’s it. We didn’t want to lie to you anymore.”

You can tell your dad is barely listening and Anne has tears in her eyes. This went just about how you thought it would.

You look at Harry and he gives you another one of those smiles that means everything to you and then he looks back up to your dad and Anne.

“I’m going to be moving in with her in the next couple of weeks. We can’t keep paying rent at two places when we’re pretty much together all the time.”

Anne’s eyes go wide and she lets out the smallest breath, maybe in shock of the implications of what Harry’s saying. It means you two go to bed together every night. Your dad cringes and closes his eyes. You are going to lecture Harry later about this approach because he certainly could have been more tactful, or just left it at the first sentence. The second sentence was totally unnecessary.

“We also want to start a family in the next couple of years, maybe even sooner. We would hope that by time we are all past this issue and you two could be active grandparents.”

You reach across your lap and grasp Harry’s forearm, to indicate I want to speak.

“Obviously all of this is something we can think about at another time. But I think Harry wants to make it clear that he wants everyone to find conclusion.”

Anne raises her hand and leans forward, “S’it okay if I speak?” Harry nods at the same time you say yes.

“For, what, three years now? How have I not seen it?!” She raised her voice at the end of her sentence, as she was starting to feel emotional.

“Yes, three years now.” You spoke your answer easily, calmly. You’d been ready for these questions. You and Harry practiced what you would say and what they might ask. That was an easy one.

“But how did we not know?” She gestures between herself and her husband. “And you’re so serious that you’re moving in together?”

Harry took the floor this time, “Well, it was just you that didn’t know, Mum. He knew.” Harry ticked his chin upward in your dad’s direction.

And, as you’d expected, this is the conversation ender. Anne wants a word with your dad for keeping this a secret, and now your dad is really fuming for Harry outing him before he got a chance to explain himself. Everyone gets up to leave at the same time.

Harry did it on purpose though. It was a way to get some of the heat off you and Harry and maybe Anne would be the voice of reason in the end. Because we knew she’d be upset that her husband kept such a secret from her.

~

You and Harry hadn't heard from your dad or Anne for some time.

Harry moved in with you a few weeks ago and you'd really hoped to have heard from either your dad or Anne by now. But you knew it would take time.

When you both told your friends about your relationship, there were a lot of questions at first. A lot of doubts, some concerns, and opinions were thrown about, but in the end, each and every one of your friends had come around to the idea of you and Harry being together and the longer they'd known about it the less weird it seemed.

Tonight Harry was playing at a larger venue with his band, there were a few hundred people here tonight and even though Harry and his band weren't the headliners, people did come for his band. He had become popular and now he even had fan pages and accounts dedicated to him and his band.

You tried not reading about the things people had said about Harry specifically. There were comments about his sexuality, about who he was seeing romantically (most of the public didn't know you and Harry were together), about how they'd give anything to touch him, etc., etc. Harry is an attractive man and he's a musician so this was not something you were terribly surprised by overall, you just couldn't stand reading some of the things about him.

Around a year ago a girl posted on her Instagram about meeting Harry at an LA show and him taking her back to his hotel room for the night (he never takes a hotel room while he's in LA since he lives here, her first obvious mistake that very few people noticed). She posted that she was at a concert of his and then afterward was when they met. She took pictures from the crowd and posted them to her Instagram page as proof. The thing was that you were at the concert that night and after the concert you and Harry went out with the band for some drinks and then later went back to your apartment where he ate you you and then fucked you while he wrapped his hands around your throat.

The girl was probably in the crowd that night based on the pictures she got, but she most certainly didn't hook up with Harry. However, the responses she got made her quite famous on Instagram and the story still goes around today about how Harry took a girl back to his hotel room after a show. So now there are a lot of girls out there thinking they'll get their shot with him. You notice it more and more too. The girls all crowd at the front and try to get Harry's attention while he sings. They wait around after shows and bombard him, looking to get an autograph and a hug. It's usually pretty innocent but there have been some pretty bold advances.

When the second song was done, the lights went low on the stage as Harry switched out his electric guitar for an acoustic and sat down on a stool at the center. The band started up with something gentle, strings, light taps on the cymbals, then Harry spoke into the mic and looked at you in the crowd (he knew where you were - he always spotted you fast and would look directly at you for much of his set), "This song was written about a year and a half ago for my girlfriend, who's here tonight. She hasn't heard this song yet, nor does she know about it at all, well, except now she does,” he laughs, “This one's for you, babe."

The way in which half of the crowd turned to look toward where Harry was looking was almost comical. You tried to remain stoic so no one could tell it was you, you were a little worried about the treatment you'd get once they realized who the girlfriend was, and since most of these people didn't even know he had a girlfriend in the first place there would be some disappointed girls here tonight.

Harry began singing into the microphone, the melody was slow and sweet and Harry's raspy voice carried the whole song. It was light on instruments, mostly consisting of Harry's vocals. Sarah chimed in a few times with a back up bit and you were stunned.

You hadn't expected this. Harry and his band would often practice and write together through the week and this was probably something they'd been cooking up for a while.

You put your hands over your mouth as you watched and listened. It was almost too much. You started to tear up a bit. You noticed that by the end of the song there were plenty of girls looking directly at you. As much as you tried to hide your emotions so as not to get noticed you couldn't help it.

Harry was a romantic and he was sensitive and emotional. He was tearing up himself by the time the song was over and he strummed the last note, looking right at you.

"I love you." He stood up and switched back to his electric guitar as the band got ready for their next song. A girl made her way to you, you saw her coming, her eyes on you. She had long dark hair, was tall, and slim. She had a strange smile on her face and you just wanted to get out of there. You didn't want any confrontation.

"Hey!" She spoke up once she was about fifteen feet away. You locked eyes with her and smiled, hoping against hope that this would be a nice encounter. You honestly hadn't had a lot of experience with this but you were nervous nontheless.

"You the chick with Harry?" She stood before you, her short, tight dress showing off her long legs.

You nod, "Yep." You give her a smile and keep your comment short.

"Yeah, well, thought you should know he slept with one of my friends a couple months ago at an LA show he did." She laughs and then points to the stage before continuing, "No one knew he had a girlfriend. He never talks about you." She had a pleased smile on her face.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, "Yeah? He doesn't like talking about it because it's not anyone's business. And I go to all of Harry's shows and he always leaves with me, so your dear friend has lied to you. Sorry. She isn't the first one to make up such a desperate lie."

The girl scoffs and turns back to the stage. Harry is looking in your direction, but he doesn't miss a beat with the song.

"Honey, he's playing you. He sleeps around. I've heard things."

"Do you believe everything you hear? That seems like a tactic that could easily have you led astray. Don't be so gullible." You laugh and try to focus your attention back on Harry. This girl is a joke.

"Are you gullible? How are there so many stories of him fucking around then?" The girl gets in closer to regain your attention.

"No. I'm not. Like I said, I'm with him at every concert. After every single one he's with me and he takes me back to my apartment or his. That's all there is to it. Your friend and all the people who've said they've slept with Harry lied to you and you believed it. I'm sorry to crush your dream of having a chance with him."

You stepped away from the girl, trying to give her a hint that you were done talking but she must have been on drugs or something because she wasn't quitting.

"My friend says she has pictures to prove she was with Harry." The girl follows you.

"Have you seen them?" You raise your brows at her.

She nods, "Yeah. Pictures of them in his hotel room." She looks down at you with that strange smile she's kept on her face the whole time.

"Why would Harry need a hotel room when he lives in LA?" You ask her feigning confusion.

The girl shook her head, "Don't know. I've just seen them and it's true."

You laugh and shake your head, "Honey, you are naïve to believe rumors. Harry and I only get a hotel room when he's got a gig out of town and like I said before, I'm always with him. Can you please go bother someone else? I'm not sure what your goal is here anymore."

With that you turn and head toward the backstage area to get away from the psycho. She followed you to the door and the bouncer allowed you in because he knew you but he stopped the girl who tried entering behind you. You were thankful for the bit of security at the venue. Not all venues offered this and had this one not, that girl would have continued harassing you and would have followed you into the backstage.

You sat down on the couch and took a few breaths. This was what you didn't want. These girls could be brutal and the things you've read, the few you've allowed yourself to indulge in, were ruthless and full of made up stories about Harry. Harry was a flirt on stage, sure. He'd wink and point, wave at people in the crowd but that was his on-stage persona. After every show for the past two years you've been with Harry every single time.

You got up and poured some water for yourself and you could still hear the music being played. You were disappointed that this was where you had to sit for the remainder of the show but it was worth it to avoid anymore encounters.

~

After the show, Harry took you home quickly. He could tell you were upset and he knew it had something to do with that girl. She tried to approach him after the show but he could tell that she’d been aggressive with you so he brushed her off quickly.

You told Harry it was fine but he knew better than just to drop it at that. He'd worked hard to regain your trust from the first mistake he made with you all those years ago. He loved you and did everything he could to prove he'd never hurt you like that again. And you believed him.

"It's not you, Harry. It's just the idea of that being one of the first encounters with a fan of yours. She was brutal and relentless. She wanted to make me think you'd cheated on me with a friend of hers. She lied about seeing pictures even, just to get under my skin. I knew she was lying because... it doesn't matter. You've done nothing wrong. It was just upsetting to go through that. I couldn't even enjoy the show after she kept bugging me. Had to sit backstage while my boyfriend played a show. Fucking sucks."

Harry held your hand and kept you close to him. He knew this would happen. He was always approached after shows. You'd seen it over and over again as well but now that people knew he had a girlfriend, things could be even worse.

"Baby, look, we'll just try to avoid things like that. I don't know how to avoid it but I'll figure something out. Maybe we can have someone with you while your in the crowd. A friend, or even house security to check on you?"

You nodded. Who knew how this would play out, but this wasn't what you thought your first encounter would be like. Not at all.

Harry was soft and sweet to you for the rest of the night. Loving on you and touching you more often than he normally did.

When you both finally crawled into bed Harry fucked you gently, rocking into you deep and slow, telling you how much he loved you and wanted to marry you, give you his babies, grow old with you. Harry was the sweetest guy you'd ever met. Yes, he could be aggressive and forceful, but that was mostly a play for you two. He knew you liked it and it turned you both on.

But tonight was just about making you feel safe and loved. You whined at the feel of him inside of you, long, languid strokes deep into your hot center.

You both came at the same time, mostly because Harry held out until he knew you were coming. He poured into you, "Yeah? Fuck! Gonna get you pregnant, fill you up with my come and get you knocked up..." He loved saying it. He started to really get into talking about getting you pregnant during sex after you went off birth control when he moved in.

You were both 26, nearly 27 now and you felt it was a good time to get pregnant. You wanted Harry's babies and Harry wanted you to have his babies. You two were serious about one another. Despite what anyone could think of your relationship, you were simply drawn to one another and fell in love fast. He was it for you and you trusted him completely.

~

2 months later

You knew you were pregnant before the test told you. Harry was practicing with the band while you went out after a long session of painting, to buy pregnancy tests, sparkling wine (for Harry), sparkling grape juice (for yourself), pre-natal vitamins, and stuff to make his favorite pasta, along with two 1/2 gallons of ice cream (you couldn't decide which you wanted so you just got both).

You still hadn't heard from your dad or Anne. It'd been three months since you told them the news. You were very upset about it but you also knew they'd come around. Especially when you planned to tell them about being pregnant. You knew they'd want to be around for their grandkids one day. They would get over their preconceived notions about your taboo relationship and move on. You knew it.

At home, just as you thought, the test showed positive. Harry texted you when he was on his way home and you started making dinner, music playing around the apartment. You were so happy.

Harry came home to the smell of dinner being made and saw two empty champagne glasses next to two bottles on the counter, a sparkling wine, and he noted the Welches sparkling grape juice as well. Immediately his eyes went wide and he paused as you turned around with a huge grin.

He slowly crossed the room to you and grabbed your face, pulling you into him, a searing kiss to your lips.

"Tell me it's true? I got you knocked up?" He reached down to touch your tummy and you nodded. You both were overly dramatic and emotional, as you both could tend to be (artist types and all), tears and whimpering from all the sobbing. Harry holding you tight, blubbering words against your face and neck, his tears raining down your skin.

Dinner was amazing, you both enjoyed your separate sparkling beverages and pigged out on two kinds of ice cream while you sat together on the couch and talked about how your day was and Harry told you about his. The TV was on in the background but you both ignored it in favor of your conversation and company together.

Harry drew you a bath where you both soaked until the water grew tepid. Then he laid you on the bed and massaged your back and neck, then he lowered his hands to your thighs and bum. The massage eventually became sexy when Harry parted your cheeks with each squish of your bum as he massaged your soft flesh.

He dipped in to kiss you right on your bum hole and you jumped with a laugh. Harry kept at it, lowering his mouth to your pussy, where he ate you out from behind. He had you rub at your clit while you remained on your tummy as he lapped at your warm pussy, eating you up swallowing all of you juices.

You were extremely sensitive to his touch for the past week, which was one of the ways you knew you were pregnant. Tonight, with emotions high everything was so much more intense. You came face down into your bed and Harry flipped you over, stroking his cock before plunging into you.

"Gonna have you come on my cock again, sis." He panted as he began thrusting into you.

The way his big cock stretched you out felt so fucking good. You loved how big and heavy he was inside of you and the way he felt moving in and out of you, pressing into your soft insides, moving your walls apart at each thrust.

Harry loved how slick you got for him and the way it sounded having his cock squelch into you was hot. He loved the way your bodies moved together and sounded together during sex.

"Fuck, Harry. Your cock fills me up so good." You cried at his thrusts.

Harry didn't fuck around when he began to hasten his pace. He was desperate to come inside of you again and his orgasm was so close, knowing he was fucking you while you were pregnant with his baby was so sexy.

"Yeah? You like getting stuffed full with brother's cock every morning and every night? Like getting fucked while you're pregnant with my baby?" Harry groaned as he dipped in deep.

"Yes... I do. Yes, yes... Oooh, fuck!" He knew your spots, he knew how you liked it and his mission was to make you come fast tonight, because he was on the verge himself.

And he never failed. You lifted your hips up toward him in fast motion and you grabbed his arm to bring a hand to choke you but Harry shook his head, "No..." He slowed the rolling of his hips, looking down at you. "Don't want to hurt you, or the baby...", he slowly dragged himself in and out and back in.

"Please? You're not gonna hurt me. I've been pregnant for a bit now, Harry and you've been choking me every time we fuck, twice a day."

It was true. You and Harry were trying to get pregnant so he was fucking you morning and night. You both fucked a lot anyway as it was, but you had a schedule once you began trying to get pregnant.

Harry reluctantly put his hand over your throat and gently squeezed. He was scared to squeeze too much. He truly didn't want to hurt the baby. He knew you could handle it because he'd been fucking you and choking you for years now. But a baby? Was it okay to choke you while you were pregnant? He'd be googling this ASAP.

It took very little more for you to begin coming around his cock and that sent Harry over the edge as he squeezed just a little harder and came inside of you with a low groan.

Harry held you close that night and whispered into your ear how much he loved you and needed you. He rubbed over your tummy, even though there was no physical sign of a baby bump just yet, he knew his baby was in there.

~

1 month later

You and Harry both went to your dad's and Anne's house. You called beforehand and left a voicemail for your dad, and Harry for Anne, warning them you were coming over and you had news.

Anne answered the door and she drew you in for a soft hug and then did the same with Harry. Her smile told you she'd heard the voicemail and you bet she assumed what this visit was for.

She led you both to the living room where she motioned for you and Harry to sit on the couch. You held hands and stayed close. Harry kissed your temple and looked at you with eyes of longing, soft and needy. You kissed his lips quickly just as your dad walked into the living room, Anne following closely behind.

Your dad and Anne sat on the love seat to the right side of the couch and he stayed silent. You smiled at your dad when you saw him and to your relief, you saw him grant you a small smile in return.

"We won't stay long if you don't want us to. But we wanted you two to be the first to know..." Harry spoke and then he looked at you, eyebrows raised so you could take it from there if you wanted. You nodded.

"I'm pregnant. Almost, technically 9 weeks now. I took a test about 4 weeks ago and it was positive and I've seen a doctor and we're going to be having a baby before the end of the year. You two will be grandparents."

Anne immediately began crying. She got up from her seat and grasped you into her arms, pulling you up from Harry and wrapped you in her arms. She spoke quietly to you, "I'm so happy, dear. I'm so happy. I love you."

You burst into tears at that. To hear her say she loved you was healing and nourishing to your soul. You held onto her for a bit until Harry stood up and Anne hugged him too. You sat back down, your dad was still seated. His face was a mystery. You weren't sure what he was thinking but he was looking at you.

When Anne and Harry had finished their warm embrace, everyone sat back down and you looked at Harry, feeling relief. At least Anne was happy about the news and you knew if Anne was happy, your dad would come around.

You didn't stay for long after. Anne offered you water and you spoke a bit. Your dad stayed silent throughout. You weren't too surprised by your dad but you were pleased with Anne's reaction.

The following day your dad called you while you were in the middle of painting a commission piece. Normally you would have let the phone go to voicemail during a fit of inspiration but you saw the caller ID and you were quickly dropping your brush and wiping your palms down your overalls as you shakily picked up your phone.

"Hello?" You sang out, hoping you hadn't missed him because it took you a bit to get to the phone.

It was silent, but you could hear something. You knew he was on the line. You remained quiet, waiting for him to speak.

"I love you, hon. I'm glad you're doing well. I'm excited to be a grandpa." You sat down on the floor and began crying (you'd been doing that a lot more than usual) and you spoke with your dad for a few minutes, taking whatever little bits he'd give you. The call ended on a light note and you felt lighter, more complete.

You called Harry right after and he stopped rehearsal to answer your call where you told him about your dad. Harry knew he'd come around since his mom had been so open to the prospect. He told you he always knew everything would work out, that everything would be okay because you were together.

And everything would be okay because you had him and he had you. Your relationship would never be considered normal but that didn't matter to you. You'd rather have people wondering and skeptical about you and Harry than be without him. Ever since the first night you met, nothing has been the same in your life. Harry changed everything for you and there isn't anything in you that regrets how messy things got or what it took to get to this moment in your life. Every bump and every dip was going to be worth it.

That's it for The Forbidden series! Thanks for reading!

Check out my masterlist if you enjoyed this 💕

Xoxo

@michellekstyles

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@angelqueen99

@sombrioinvernoemveneza

[multifandom-lesbian09]

I just read a post about how Draco would be an absolute mess during Scorpius and Albus’ wedding, but I really want to talk about both Draco AND Harry being wrecks because their children are getting married. And it’s worse because their families are now being joint together. So let’s get into THAT mess.

- They’re both super supportive when Scorpius and Albus get engaged, but once the wedding rolls around, Harry and Draco raise absolute hell (mostly because they realize that shit’s actually getting real).

- They decide to be those parents that give everybody jobs when it comes time for getting the place ready. But the thing about that, is the fact that they literally cannot for the absolute life of them, agree on anything.

- They both hate each other’s ideas.

- “No no no no no. Malfoy, you are so wrong”

- “Holy shit just stick it up your ass and shut up, Harry!”

- “THE ONLY THING THATS GONNA BE SHOVED UP ANYBODY’S ASS IS MY FOOT IN YOURS!”

- Albus tries to make peace between them because holy hell, everyone is stressed out and he’s sick and tired of their arguing, but they both insist that they know what they’re doing and they can work together.

- They cannot, in fact, work together. But for their children’s sake, they try their hardest

- “I’m actually done with you. I don’t want to work with you anymore.”

- “Do you not remember anything that Albus said? Stop being a petty bitch and help me get this cloth on the goddamn table.”

- “ITS CROOKED, POTTER! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO WORK LIKE THIS?”

- the one person that’s finally able to make them stop their petty arguments is Scorpius. Why? Because he is equally, if not, MORE stressed out than everybody else for multiple reasons.

- his father and soon to be father in law are both going at each other’s throats and can barely get anything done, despite being told that him and Albus won’t have to do anything because they “had it handled”.

- but no, the only reports that he was getting back from Hermione, were lists off every single argument that Harry and Draco had during the planning and preparations.

- yes, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is having Hermione give him reports on his father and Harry. He’s paying her and everything.

- so he finally snaps and both Harry and Draco are absolutely terrified.

- “if I hear ONE MORE GODDAMN TIME that you two had another fight over something as small as a tablecloth, I am going to hex you into the fourth dimension. And you do not want that, I GUARANTEE it. So get your asses in line and work together, before the headline is Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy mysteriously die right before their children get married.”

- they start to behave themselves in a heartbeat.

- but holy shit, the passive aggressiveness is REAL.

- Harry goes to put a centerpiece on one of the tables and Draco just hums in disapproval. They go through maybe five different ones before Draco stops making those stupid faces and humming as though he’s doing everything wrong.

- finally, the last thing they have to do is find out where they’re going to put the banner.

- Harry is beginning to put it up above the doorway, but Draco does that humming thing again and Potter is about to go f e r a l

- “okay, Malfoy, that’s it, I’m tired of you making those stupid noises of disapproval. If you want to put it in a certain place, do it your damn self, or—”

- he just stops himself when he sees that sly grin on Draco’s face.

- “you don’t want my son to hex you, do you, Potter?”

- “you’re lucky I’m putting up with your ass”

And that’s all I have for now. I’ll write more when I have the time lmfao

[dameronology]

6 from the angst prompts with frank please🤲🏾

frank castle + 6) "why does my mind go back to when you used to hold me?"

ok. i'm gonna be real with you. this started by following the prompt, then it...it went somewhere else entirely. but we move.

You should have been happy in your lover's arms.

Anyone else in the world would have been fucking elated; wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa with a five-foot-eleven guy, with his ginger tousled hair and broad arms. Your first date together had been a favour to your sister, but you'd never found a reason to stop seeing him. After all, he looked after you. Texting you to make sure you got home safe, bringing you lunch at work, fixing your broken kitchen cabinet in your shitty little apartment. He was nice. Too nice. He was a sensible t-shirt made out of husband material.

So what did that make Frank Castle? The leather jacket that your parents had forbade you from buying? The stupidly ripped jeans that made your relatives ask dId yOu bUy tHeM lIke tHat?

But truthfully, there was no stupid, cliche metaphor for Frank Castle. He was absolutely indescribable; a walking contradiction, a fucking confusion. He was rough and soft and giving and taking all at once. He stole the air from the lungs and breathed it right back into you; stole the show, but never came out from behind the curtains. He'd ruined your life for twelve straight months and yet, you looked back on that year as the best time of your life.

Frank was gone now - gone to the wind, wherever his next crime took him. You still thought of him, though. Constantly. About how your new boyfriend's arms didn't hold you as tight; about how his hair was a lot softer than Frank's, and didn't scratch you in the same way his did whenever he buried his head in your neck. His hands weren't as large and protective. He didn't make you black coffee every morning - oat lattes and fancy cappuccinos, yeah. But not the shitty, sugarless crap that Frank served to you in a chipped Coney Island mug every day at 7AM. The new guy cared enough to walk you home, but not enough to elbow his way into your apartment at 3AM because he'd heard sirens four blocks away and panicked. Frank Castle had had a weird way of loving you - and now, everyone else's attempts at it paled in comparison.

Like I said before - anyone else would have been infatuated with the new man sat beside you. Admittedly, you'd only found one problem with him.

He wasn't Frank.

"I'm just going to make some tea," you said. "I'll be back in a second."

The auburn man looked at you. "Should I pause the movie?"

"It's okay, I've seen it before," you forced a smile.

Shrugging off the blanket, you stood up and stalked through to the kitchen. It was a separate room from your living area - Frank had always given you spiel about how cramped it felt. But the minute you spotted a pair of combat boots on the fire escape? You were just thankful for the privacy it now gave you from the man you should have been falling in love with.

Hopping up on the counter, you slid open the window and stuck one leg out onto the metal stairs. Frank naturally leant forward to help you, a large handing wrapping around your wrist and pulling you up. The sky was pitch black, lit only by the starry facade of the Lower East Side. Hell's Kitchen was beautiful from this angle - probably because the man who constantly tore it to pieces was stood on your fire escape.

"You look like shit," you greeted him. It was true; his hair was cropped and neat, and he was clean shaven like usual, but there was a fucking massive shiner on his left eye.

"So do you," Frank shot back. "Who the fuck does that t-shirt belong to?"

"None of your business," you said.

"It belongs to your ginger friend, doesn't it?" he deduced. "What's his name?"

"Again - none of your business."

"Fine. I'll just call him Ron, then."

"Okay, Frank," you huffed. "Why are you turning up on my fire escape at 1AM and giving me spiel about Harry Potter?"

"I was just checking in," he shrugged. "Am I not allowed to do that anymore?"

"No."

"Fine," he held his hands up in defence. "But I know you're thinking about me."

"I'm not thinking about you," you countered. "In fact, the first person I think of when I hear the name Frank is Frank Reynolds from It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia."

"You're a terrible liar, sweetheart," he reminded you.

"It's true. I really love Danny Devito-"

You abruptly stopped talking when Frank grabbed you by the waist, pulling you towards him. Your lips crashed against his - warm and familiar and chapped - in a passionate kiss. Time might as well have fucking stopped in that moment. It was a feeling you'd craved for so long; begged for, prayed to every god you believed in and even those you didn't.

"You love me more," Frank murmured. "More than the man inside."

"Frank," you murmured.

"Just say it," he pushed. "I know you love me - not him."

"Is that why you came back?" you asked. "Because you were worried I'd found someone else?"

"I came back because I missed you," he confessed.

"You went upstate to get away from all this," you half-heartedly gestured to the city below.

"And I came back for all this," he gestured to you with a large hand. "It's nothing to do with you being with someone else. It doesn't mean I don't want to left hook the guy for putting his hands on you, but..."

Frank trailed off. You, meanwhile, were still in disbelief. It had taken so much effort to move on; to force his remaining belongings into a box under your bed. Even more so to let another man in to said bed.

In a swift movement, he'd taken off his hoodie and pulled it over your shoulders. The zip was done up in mere seconds, thick hood pulled over your head. It smelt of Frank - domestic Frank, not I've gone bat-crap crazy on a gang in the middle of the night and come back looking like the prom scene in Carrie Frank. It was a mixture of cheap laundry detergent and a little of his spicy aftershave. He rarely wore the stuff, but you deducted he probably put it on for tonight. What kind of fucking weirdo put on expensive aftershave just to creep around on his former lover's balcony? Frank. The answer was Frank. Just...quintessentially him.

"You really hate the look of me in his clothes, huh?" you teased.

"You looked cold," Frank lied. "Does Ron give you his hoodies?"

"He'd give me his damn wardrobe if I asked."

He snorted. "Yeah, okay. I'm glad to see you that you still enjoy dancing around important conversations-"

"- you know I love you, Frank," you cut him off. "But I'm not skipping into the fucking sunset with you at 1AM when it's freezing as shit outside. Especially not when there's a man on my couch, who thinks I'm making a cup of tea when I'm actually kissing a man out on the fire escape."

"I love you too," Frank gave you a lopsided grin, completely ignoring the second half of what you said. "I'll come back in the morning."

"Yeah, okay," you pressed another kiss to his jaw. "See you then."

You slipped your hands away from Frank's, sliding your legs back through the window and onto the kitchen counter. Leaping off the side, you shut the window and reached to turn on the kettle - you did have the whole cup of tea lie to keep up with.

And with a smile on your face, you reached for the chipped Coney Island mug on your shelf.

[tobesolonely]

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry​ for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface​ for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol 

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen. 

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here. 

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.” 

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard. 

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day. 

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod. 

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were. 

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions. 

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.” 

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee. 

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard. 

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him. 

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures. 

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. 

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate. 

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous. 

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face. 

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.” 

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.” 

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“ 

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne. 

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out. 

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?” 

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?” 

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library. 

“You don’t know your address yet?” 

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier. 

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.” 

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’” 

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.” 

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened. 

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––” 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA. 

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement. 

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious. 

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before. 

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?” 

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything. 

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment. 

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you. 

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it. 

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.” 

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing. 

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock. 

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

[closhelby]

HER. - Thomas Shelby

Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: it’s peaky blinders, with smut

Word Count: 2472

AN: this is my first time writing smut, please give me any tips pls, it’s appreciate. It’s probably shite.

::::::

She always was on his mind. The woman, that always read between the lines, always two steps ahead of him, and had an incredible eye for business. She had left him years prior, leaving for a top business school in London. they never had a title, a label on their relationship, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that they always, somehow, gravitated back to one another. Often people, especially Polly, would say that there was no way two people would be so alike, strong headed but only rarely clashed. 

However y/n’s degree had finished and she was coming back to Small Heath for a period of time before she was going to figure out what exactly what she wanted to do. Y/n was actually great friends with the Shelby family, since growing up with them, living just down the road, they practically lived together. Y/n was actually younger than Tommy, she was ages with Ada and John. They were in the same class throughout school, Ada and y/n regularly wrote to each other, updating each other on Ada’s eventful life as a Shelby still in Small Heath and y/n’s very exciting studying life in London. 

They had actually planned to meet up, for a nice and quiet drink at the Garrison on her return. The thoughts swirled in y/n’s mind as she approached the Garrison, it had just gone 6pm, and she knew as it was a Friday, she did have a possibly of bumping into her first, arguably her only love.  Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, she pushed open the door to see a fairly crowded Garrison. 

“Ah, y/n, how was London?” Harry shouted, from behind the bar. Y/n smiled at him, walking over to Ada sitting in the back corner. “It was good Harry, nice to be back in this clear Birmingham air”. He chuckled slightly, “Whiskey coming up love”. 

Y/n nodded, taking a seat next to Ada, giving her a cuddle, “Unsure if ive missed this place or not” y/n laughed slightly, eyes scanning the pub, looking for the one man she questioned if she did want to bump into. The pair was throwing back drinks like it was going out of fashion, knowing they would both regret this in the morning. Apparently, Ada wasn't allowing y/n to go back home, and in fact y/n didn't have a home yet and wasn't willing to go back to her parents, so Ada was insisting that she stayed at hers until y/n found a suitable place. Y/n didnt put up a fight, despite them both being hot heads, and taking absolutely no shit from anyone, men or woman, y/n didn't argue. She was actually really thankful for her. 

They eventually stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, their laughs echoing throughout the silent house. 

::::

The sun caught y/n directly in the eyes, quickly awoke y/n from her sleep. Her head felt as though someone had been hitting her head against the floor multiple times. Y/n continued to lay there, turning away from the sun, trying to keep the contents of her stomach from getting sprayed all over her and the sleeping Ada. She made an attempt at moving, sat with her head in her hands as she was trying to give herself words of encouragement to get up and make herself something to eat. 

“Fuck sake, why do we do this to ourselves?” Ada moaned from behind her. Y/n scoffed, “ Your bloody idea”.

Quickly standing up, in hope she could get it over with quickly. The room continuing to spin, as she attempted to walk to the door. Ada following closely behind. 

They both sat slumped over the dining room table, as they attempted to sober up and embrace the oncoming hangover. John now present, laughing at the two dying woman in front of him. 

“Good night?”

“Always.” Ada grumbled.

Pol placed a plate in front of them, toast with jam, “Does Tommy know your back? 

Eyes falling onto y/n from every person in their, “No.” answering quietly. 

Attempting to change the subject, “Told myself I would start looking for a new job today, since I shall be staying here for a decent period of time.”

John raised his eyebrow, “Tommy’s looking for a new secretary.” A slight smile on his face, “You've got a good background, business and that”.

“hm, I don't think so Johny boy”.    

“Don’t say no too soon, your a good asset to the business.” Pol added. No one was ever in y/n’s corner more than Pol, they would bang heads sometimes, as neither of them would back down. But she accepted y/n was the only one that had the best interest for Tommy.

The front door closed, and there he stood, the room turning to face Tommy, silence filling the room, then he broke it, “Heard you were back.”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly.

“Well, you know where I am if you need that job, I’m sure you’ve already been told,” he spoke, cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he walked away from them and into his office.

Y/n let out a breath, as though she hadn’t been breathing the whole time he was there. Ada smiled at her, placing her hand onto y/n’s, “I’m just going to get ready for the day love,” and off she went upstairs. The boys getting on with their day, and Pol following suit.

Y/n sat collecting her thoughts while trying to tell herself to face her ex lover, who she was still so deeply in love with. She tapped on the door slightly, opening it before opening it, “hi”, seeing his eyes flutter onto her shot tingles throughout her body, his eyes quickly looking away

“You can start tomorrow if you wish, I need a few papers signed and sent tomorrow. I can get your contract drawn up tonight.” He spoke, his eyes still not lifting from the paper in front of him.

“Yes, that’s fine 8am?”

“8.45, shop doesn’t open until 9. And there are others to set it up, that’s not your job.”

Nodding, “I heard you have a new woman.”

At this point he did look up at her, “I heard you had plenty men in London,”

She laughed slightly, nodding before heading to the door, “none were ever a patch on you,” closing the door, leaving a smirk on Thomas Shelbys face.

The following day came around, as y/n got ready for the day. Putting on a formal black tightly fitted dress, flats and pin curled hair. A slight tint of red lippy, remembering it used to be Tom’s favourite. Assuming Tommy wouldn’t be at the shop at this time, she took a whiskey with her placing it on the desk infront of Tommy’s office. The place was silent, despite there being other employees now starting to arrive, something calming about the place, almost the calm before the storm, she thought.

The hour was now around ten thirty, and there was still no sign of Tommy. She had already finished the papers he had left for her on her desk. It wasn’t the usual small Heath lady, she was educated, and to a very high level. y/n was sat twiddling her thumbs, awaiting Tommy’s arrival to get other things done.

“Y/n. My office please,” his voice low, as he stood behind her. She stood up quickly, following him into the private room.

“There’s your contract, if you wish to have a read over it. I see you’ve finished the work I gave given you for the day.”

Y/n took the contract into her hands, scanning for any mistakes or anything to question. But he actually was paying her nearly double the rate of other staff, and just over that the London rate was, “you’ve done your research eh. More than London rates, impressive. The peaky’s are stepping up in the world” Y/n smiled at him, as she placed the documents on the desk, picking up his pen, and signing it. Y/n Y/l/n. Followed with today’s date. That was now it, she was a Shelby Co Ltd employee.

...

The days turned into weeks, spending time with tommy while no one else was looking was becoming a regular thing. She now had her own place, just doors down from the shop. He would regularly call her into the office, and discuss things that he would usually never utter a word about. It had always been that way with them, since they were little, he would confine in her, telling her all the issue and problems he was facing, both in his mind and with others. But it was also coming to her attention that he was still seeing Grace.

Later on in the day, the clock chimes 11pm, as y/n sat listening to the music that takes her back to a child, while sipping a whiskey. The knock of her front door bringing her out of her daydream, she picked up her handgun that she kept on her at all times. Growing up with The Shelby’s, she had to protect herself in someway. She kept it behind her, out of view for anyone who was in front of her, slowly creeping up to answer the door. She swung it open, gun clocked and pointed directly in the face of Thomas Shelby. Not wasted, but defiantly had a few.

“Ah, can never change a Shelby girl eh” He spoke, laughing slightly as she lowered the gun and he stepped inside. 

“Although, I’ve never been a Shelby girl, have I Tom?”

“Depends who you ask.”

She sighed, stepping in to the fire lit living room, “Drink?”

He nodded in response, and y/n began to pour him a whiskey, topping up hers and handing a full glass over to him. “Why are you here?”

He stepped over to her, the closest they had been together since before she left for London. He placed a hand on her back, pulling her head into touch his, their foreheads touching. The sensation ran through her body like the first time they had ever touched. He placed his hand on around the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwining with each others as the kiss started to deepen.  Y/n reached for his jacket, pulling it off his back, before making her way on to unbuttoning his shirt. Tommy pulled the bottom of her nightdress up, y/n only allowing the kiss to be broken to allow it to come over her head. 

Their lips syncing with each other once again as tommy took his now unbuttoned shirt off, moving onto unbuckling his trousers revealing his already hard length. He began to push her back onto the couch, untangling her lace thongs from around her legs. His fingers trailing over her already wet pussy, “Do it” y/n whispered as she pulled his face back up to kiss hers. 

He didn't even wait as he shoved his length into her. Their bodies rocked in sync together, “Tommy...” Y/n moaned, her fingers trailing down his shirtless torso. The stars were starting to align, the room was warm, full of love. It felt as though it was five minutes but in reality it was around fifteen all in.

Their breath shortened as y/n’s back started to arch as she came close to climax, “cum for me”. He spoke, looking at her directly in the eyes as he rocked her world. The love, chemistry, love and lust, all so very present just as it was back how they were before. Both of them moaning in pleasure, as they both came at the same time. The deep breaths and steamy windows showing the passion that had just unfolded. 

::::::::::::::::::::

It was a Friday evening, a week following the night of sin that taken place between Tommy and Y/n. They had still had the talks in private in the office, and on another occasion she was fucked bent over his desk after closing time. Y/n wasn't one to hide her feelings, it would always be present on her face so when it came to facing Grace in the Garrison, it wasn't hard to tell how y/n’s feelings were over her.  

Pol chuckled softly, clocking the glare Grace was on the opposite end of, “If looks could kill” Ada joining in on the hilarity. 

“She would've been killed 8 times over” Y/n replied, turning back to face the women. Whiskey in hand. 

“Feelings still there for him then?” Ada asked. 

“No, I wouldnt say so” y/n lied. 

“Cant lie to a gypsy woman love” Pol laughed, y/n begining to laugh with her when the doors open to reveal Tommy and his two bothers. Tommy’s icy blue eyes scanning the room, a slight smile shooting over to Y/n before approching the bar where Grace was, where he stood there for a good twenty minutes chatting away to her. 

“I cant take this anymore.” y/n looked over to Ada, who was rising her eyebrow while taking a sip of her drink. She was fairly close to them, and y/n being y/n liked to have a slight stir up now and again. She stood up, smile showing on her face as Pol and Ada laughed, watching her approach them both. 

“So, hows your little fling going?” she spok loud enough that Pol, Ada, Arthur and John could hear her. 

“Y/n” Tommy warned. 

“Who are you?” Grace questioned. 

“Y/N,” she responded, leaning herself against the bar, “The woman he has fucked behind your back multiple times this week.”

Pol snorted, almost chocking on her drink, “ I fucking knew it. Gypsy senses never lie.” 

“To be honest with you Grace, you had absolutely no chance when Y/N came back” Ada added. 

At this point, Tommy had moved y/n away from the bar, into the small room, “what are you doing?”

“You cant take the piss out of me, fucking me but then fucking her thinking youll get away with it.” she was pissed, and he could see it in her face. They had never spoke on their feelings toward each other. Everyone knew that it was always each other but there was nothing that compared to them, they always seemed to go back.

“I have always loved you but you left to go to London, I had people follow you. I knew what you were up to so I assumed you would stay down there, I assumed you had moved on.” He spoke, almost showing vulnerability.

“Oh I know. I can remember faces Tom. I think you forget I can see right through you,” she seethed, through her teeth, “what are you going to do about this?”

Tommy cupped her face, pulling her into kiss her.

“I love you.” He mumbled, feeling her smile into their kiss.

“I love you Tom,”

[hops-hunny]

Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom​‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds. 

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

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

That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever. 

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink. 

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half. 

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear. 

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew. 

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n)  continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek. 

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

[jarofstyles]

Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

send feedback and requests here

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar. 

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something. 

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well. 

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today. 

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her. 

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades. 

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her. 

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most  but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be? 

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.” 

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today. 

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face. 

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?”  He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments. 

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal. 

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted. 

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years. 

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously. 

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did? 

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger. 

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of. 

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live. 

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth. 

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties. 

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment. 

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do. 

DaddyH. He was new. 

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck. 

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure. 

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace. 

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice. 

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there. 

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case. 

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to. 

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly. 

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter. 

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

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

[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

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[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part VII. (Harry Styles)

wow, its crazy we are on part 7 already! not much left of the story! thank you for the kind words on the previous post, i really need the encouraging, i’ve been having some rough days lately and they always make me smile, so please, if you enjoy this part, make sure to lik/reblog/leave a comment or basically do ANYTHING! please!

word count: 5.8k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Staying up until six am was definitely one of your worst decisions, especially at a house with kids who do not know boundaries and do everything as they please. 

You growl in irritation when you hear muffled screaming from outside. Can’t a girl just sleep in?!

“Mmm,” you groan, burying your face further into the pillow.

“Harry! Harry!” Margaret’s bossy voice echoes out in the hallway and your eyes immediately snap open.

Sitting up you realize that you’re still in Harry’s room, more specifically in Harry’s bed, but he is not there next to you anymore, however Margaret’s footsteps are getting threateningly close. She can’t find you in Harry’s bed, she has such a big mouth, your whole family will talk about it in no time and that just can’t happen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you mumble in panic, jumping out of the bed and before you could process the running shower’s sound, you run into the bathroom and shut the door closed right before Margaret barges into Harry’s room. You even lock the door, knowing well she is nosy enough to come in there as well.

“Harry! Good morning!” her voice comes from the other side of the door and you rest your forehead against it huffing. That was close.

“Good morning to you too, princess!”

Harry’s voice comes from right behind you and it sends a shiver down your spine as your eyes widen. You didn’t even think that he might be in here, and apparently, he was. Turning around you find yourself standing almost toe to toe with a very much naked Harry who probably just got out of the shower. Your lips part first at the sight of him, then you suck them into your mouth, not even daring to move.

“Come and play with us!” Margaret demands. Harry’s green eyes burn into you intently, even when he answers your niece.

“Will be out to play with you in a minute. Go and grab the cards while I finish in here,” he calls out and for a few seconds you forget to breathe, trying your best to keep your eyes up on his face. 

His skin glistens in the light, still damp from the shower, droplets are running down his tattoo-covered chest and arms while his wet hair is falling into his forehead. He is surely a spectacular sight so early in the morning and you almost hate how your body reacts to him without your consent. 

Margaret’s little footsteps move over to the door before she runs out and you hear the door shutting, but the two of you still stand at the same spot. His arm reaches past you and you suck on your breath even though he doesn’t even touch you. Calmly he grabs the towel that was hanging on the door beside the door and he comfortably wraps it around his waist, eyes still burning down on you.

“I don’t mind you watching, but I think she is gone, so…” A small smirk is hiding in the corners of his mouth as he watches you snap out of your trance. 

“I, uhh--yeah. I’ll just… go. See you l-later I guess,” you stutter finally turning around and walking out of the bathroom, Harry’s soft chuckle following you. 

You make your way out of his room quite fast and sprint back to yours. Once the door is shut and locked behind you, back pressed to it you slide down to the floor in desperate need to take a few deep breaths. 

There’s no use to try and convince yourself you don’t find Harry attractive. That would be absolute bullshit, because then you wouldn’t have slept with him years ago in the first place. What frightens you however is that your newly funded friendship with him is taking away the hatred that kept you away from him all these years and you are starting to see him in a completely different light. And that cannot happen, not when you think your life is changing for the better.

You have Marcus now. You have a balanced, healthy relationship with a guy who seems to be the perfect fit for you. There’s no need to ruin everything because your stupid crush on Harry is making a comeback. 

“Get your shit together,” you tell yourself pushing yourself up from the floor, shaking your limbs out a little. You have an entire day ahead of you spent partly with Harry, you can’t lose your mind.

***

The weather is oddly warm, so following breakfast almost everyone moves outside to the backyard to soak the late december sunshine in. Aunt Teresa and your mom are taking a look at the little flower pots at the corner of the terrace, taking guesses what kind of plants will push out from the ground once spring comes. The kids are running around playing tag, making the best out of the huge backyard and endless possibilities of outside games while you sit with Lily and Jeremy, Valerie in your arms, feeling a little tired after her breakfast. Rosa put her into an overall and a fluffy hat, only her sweet little face is out, a hint of blush tinting her cheeks. 

From the corner of your eyes you see Harry walk out and he stops next to you, squatting down so he can take a look at Val.

“Hey there, Princess,” he grins widely and Valerie starts babbling to him, as if she was having a whole conversation with him while he hums along, pretending to understand every word.

If you are being honest, seeing him for the first time at breakfast after your bathroom encounter, especially with that smug smirk playing on his pink lips, you needed a few moments to get your thoughts straight, but luckily, Harry didn’t tease you about it, not even for a second, so soon enough your nerves settled and you were able to feel comfortable around him again. 

Valerie reaches out for him and he looks into your eyes asking for permission to take her from you.

“All yours,” you smile letting him lift her up from your arms and holding her in a sitting position he leaves to slowly walk around the backyard and show her the many wonders of nature around us. 

“He is so good with kids,” Lily speaks up and tearing your eyes away from Harry, you see that she is looking in his way too. 

“He is,” you nod turning back in his direction. He is showing her a dried out, brown leaf and she is watching him twirl it around in his hands as if it was one of the seven wonders.

“I’m glad Rosa chose him to be the godfather. I’m sure he and Valerie will be best friends. And she has you too,” Lily smiles at you. “You two are the perfect godparents.”

You just smile at her shyly before turning your gaze back to Harry. He catches you watching and murmurs something into Valerie’s ear before taking her little hand and making her wave in your way. Chuckling you wave back and mentally you not how you want to remember this picture forever. 

After lunch you help Teresa and Etta wash the dishes while Jeremy, Lily, Joe and Harry settle for a round of scrabble at the dining table. When you’re done in the kitchen you join them, pulling a chair next to Harry you take a look at his letters.

“I have absolutely no idea what to do,” he sighs, fingers tapping on the edge of the table.

“You have a word, and you could make it go through the triple,” you tell him, Joe and Jeremy looking up at you with a mixture of shock and anger.

“Hey, no help from outside!” Joe points at you, but you just chuckle taking Harry’s letters into your hands.

“Is it your turn?” you ask him before you’d put them down to the board. Harry nods and curiously watches you put his letters connecting to a T that was already there.

“Crottle?” Harry asks reading out the word once you are finished, the E ending up on the tile that triples the score of the word.

“I’m 99 percent sure it’s not a word,” Jeremy huffs, clearly annoyed Harry just took the lead with your word.

“It is,” you smile proudly, leaning back in your seat.

“And what does that mean?” Joe chimes in. 

“It’s a kind of lichen. In Scotland they use it to dye wool. Look it up, I’m telling the truth,” you chuckle seeing the doubtful looks.

“It is, look,” Lily tells him, handing her phone over, she probably just searched for it. Jeremy reads it then hands her back her phone, mumbling something under his breath before adding the scores to Harry’s column.

“How do you know this word?” Harry asks with a soft chuckle, but you just shrug your shoulders, folding your arms on your chest.

“I don’t know. Probably heard it somewhere.”

“Clever,” he smiles and as he turns back to the board his hand reaches over and gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh above your knee.

It’s such a short and insignificant action, doesn’t even last longer than just a second before his hand moves back to the table, but you find yourself thinking about how his touch felt even minutes later, when it’s his turn again. This time he has an idea of his own, luckily you don’t have to help him, because if he asked you to, you couldn’t have come up with anything, mind still stuck on that one touch.

Before dinner the kids find a few huge bags full of fallen leaves that must have been collected through the fall and they are quick to make a big mess, gathering the leaves into one enormous pile and they start jumping into it, no matter how many times their parents tell them to stop making such a mess. They just keep telling them that they’ll clean it up. 

“I used to love doing that,” you smile at them, sitting outside on the veranda. Harry turns to you grinning.

“Why don’t you join them?”

“What?” you chuckle. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Stop being so lame! Come on, I’ll jump in with you,” he offers and standing up he holds out a hand for you, but you just shake your head.

“I’ll pass.”

Harry rolls his eyes and you really think he’ll just move on, but the next thing you know is that he throws you over his shoulder, running down to the pile of leaves as you scream from the top of your lungs, demanding to be let go.

“Oh, I’ll let you go, don’t worry!” he chuckles and you already know you stand no chance against him. His strong arm is curled around your thighs too tight, there’s no way you can escape. 

“Harry! Please don’t thro--Fuck!” you scream when with one swift and elegant move he throws you off his shoulder, tossing you right into the middle of the pile, leaves flying everywhere as the pile swallows your body. 

You instantly hear the kids' laughter and when you push the leaves out of your face you stare up at a grinning Harry who is very much satisfied with the work he just did.

“Very funny and mature,” you grimace, but can’t hide the smile that tugs on your lips. 

“It is. Come on,” he chuckles holding out a hand with the intention of helping you out of the pile, but you have a better plan. 

Getting a strong grip of his hand you pull on him forcefully, hoping you have enough strength to pull him out of his balance and bring him down into the pile beside you. 

Luckily, your plan works out. He wasn’t expecting your revenge, so he easily loses balance once you pull on him, making him fly straight into the pile next to you, leaves rustling under his body, making an even bigger mess than it was before. 

“Hah! I bet you did not expect this!” you scoff once his head pops out from under the dry leaves. He shoots you a murderous look before launching right at you and soon enough a whole fight blossoms where the two of you are constantly throwing handfuls of leaves at each other, trying to bury the other into the pile. 

“Okay, okay, stop!” you shriek when your hair is full of crumbles and you’ve been rolling around for quite a while. Harry is kneeling beside you, hands full of leaves, ready to attack any moment.

“I only stop if you say that you’ll never plot anything against me and that I’m your one and only true king.”

“What?” you snort. “I’m not saying that!” Harry is quick to throw one handful of leaves right into your face making you scream again. “Alright! Alright! I will never plot anything against you!” you hold your hands up, trying to stop him from throwing the other bunch from his hand.

“And?”

“And…” You look at him, holding your laughter back as he patiently waits for you to finish. “And you are my one and only true king.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose before finally throwing the leaves away. He holds a hand out for you, but you stare at it hesitantly.

“Don’t be such a baby, I’m not gonna do anything,” he rolls his eyes, but you see the hidden smile on his lips. At last you take his hand and he helps out get op from the ground. Your pants and hoodie is filled with dirt stains and crumbles, it’s gonna take a while to get them out of your hair as well.

“You two are worse than the kids!” Lily laughs as you and Harry basically do a walk of shame, getting inside the house all dirty and muddy.

“All his fault!” you say, holding your hands up innocently.

“Uh-huh, no one believes that,” Harry snorts.

“Since I look like this because of you, I’m gonna take a shower in your bathroom. I need the luxury to wash this all off myself,” you state walking down the hallway.

“Only after I’m done in there.”

“Hey!” you snap pointing a finger at him. “The least you can do is to let me go first!”

“You have to beat me, Love,” he smirks and the two of you launch at the same time.

You knew you’d stand no chance, since you have to get all your stuff in your room before running into his, but you still tried. Holding your towels and showering and hair products to your chest you barge into his room, only to find it completely empty, the bathroom door closed.

“Ah, fuck you!” you call out with a frustrated growl, but just as you are about to leave, the door opens and Harry peeks out.

“It’s cute you thought you could beat me,” he chuckles walking out and holding the door open for you. Walking past him you stick your tongue out at him before you shut the door behind you and after a moment of hesitation you lock it. 

It feels great to wash the dirt off yourself and when you step out of the shower you feel like a new person. You wrap your hair up into one of the towels before curling the other one around your body. Gathering your things you hold everything to your chest tightly, this way holding the towel as well as you walk out of the bathroom. 

Harry is lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone when his eyes snap over to you. He doesn’t shy away from taking a long look at your uncovered legs as you walk around the bed heading to the door.

“The bathroom is all yours, thanks for the chance,” you smile shyly.

“So you’re not staying to wash my back? Not a nice way to treat your king!” he teases you, but you just roll your eyes at him before walking out of his room and shutting his door. 

Even though you know it was just a joke, your mind wanders over to the scene where the two of you shower together, hands touching and feeling up each other. You suck on your breath, shaking your head, trying to get rid of the thought as you lock yourself up in your own room while Harry is probably over at his bathroom, just getting under the hot water. 

***

After dinner you all gather in the sunroom, wrapped in fluffy blankets, drinking tea or hot chocolate, Aunt Monica of yourse scotch, and you start opening gifts one by one, watching everyone’s reaction.

Of course, the kids go first, tearing their presents’ wrapping apart as they reveal all the new toys. Dolls, board games, books and video games, they are truly spoiled, but with such a big family they can always expect some pretty cool gifts. Then it’s the adults’ turn. Sitting on the sofas and armchairs, you hand around the boxes and watch each other get surprised.

Your mom and dad have bought you a beautiful gold ring, one you’ve been talking about for ages after the first time you saw it at a shop. Rosa and Steven ordered a bunch of books from your Amazon wishlist and framed a montage of you and Val, it was truly a sweet gesture.

From your cousins and aunts you get some clothes and gift cards to your favorite places, just what you’ve been needing. 

“These ones are the last,” Rosa smiles up holding two not too big gifts, an excited smile pulling on her lips. “They are from Valerie, to her amazing godparents.”

She hands one to you and one to Harry and you place it carefully on your lap. Exchanging a look with Harry the two of you start opening the wrapping paper at the same time. As soon as the glittery paper is gone you can’t help the smile that pulls on your lips. Seems like Rosa had a thing with framing pictures this year, because you are looking down at a photo of you, Valerie and Harry from a few weeks ago.

It was taken in their backyard and you’re holding her in your arms, smiling widely as Valerie is giggling happily at her mother behind the camera. Harry is standing close to you, one arm around your shoulders, his other hand holding Val’s tiny hand. He is hunching down a little to lessen the height difference between the two of you, a genuine smile plastered across his handsome face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out feeling a little sentimental about the photo. Seeing the three of you so happy and carefree in one picture reminds you how much things have changed since Valerie’s arrival. She really is the reason why you and Harry are now… friends. Yes, you definitely see him as a friend now instead of an enemy. 

Gift opening ends and you all just stay there in the sunroom, talking and laughing, but your eyes wander over to Harry, because there is one gift left that hasn’t been opened. You bought it quite randomly and you don’t even consider it a real Christmas gift, but you’ll give it to him anyway. Later, when it’s gonna be just the two of you.

“You know, if someone showed me this picture a few months ago I would have told them it must be photoshopped,” Harry chuckles sitting down next to you. The kids have whined long enough to play one round of UNO where everyone plays. You were the second one to get rid of all your cards, Harry following you in the next round so now you are left out of the game that is seemingly taken very seriously by everyone. Loser has to clean up all the wrapping paper, so no one shies away from throwing in their best cards.

Harry is holding the framed photo in his hands, he got the exact same one, but in a darker colored frame.

“Crazy, right?” you chuckle. “I think it’s our first photo together since the wedding,” you say thinking about it.

Harry nods realizing you’re right. You had one photo taken at the wedding. When Rosa and Steven were having their first dance they asked everyone else to join them at the end and Harry was quick to ask if you wanted to dance with him. Naturally, you said yes, so you slow danced, not even noticing that the photographer snapped the moment when your cheeks were pressed together, your arms hugging his neck as he held you close by your waist. 

You still have that photo saved on your phone, though it brought you quite some pain when you first saw it, the memories from that morning flooding back to you ruthlessly when you scrolled through the pictures a few weeks later.

“It was time we had a new one,” he smiles at you and that smile means a lot to you. It shows that your newly funded friendship is just as important to him as it is to you. It’s nice to know he is not just acting so Rosa wouldn’t worry about the two of you. You successfully overcome that stage by now. 

It’s nearing midnight when the party dies down and everyone slowly starts to return to their rooms. You do the same, using Harry’s bathroom to shower without even asking him. He just chuckles when you walk in. He is already in his night clothes, scrolling through his phone.

When you’re done you’re walking past his bed, but before you leave you stop at the door.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” his eyes move up to you.

“I have something for you.” Harry looks at you a little puzzled, but you don’t go into details, just go back to your room.

Just as you were expecting, he follows you and by the time you throw your dirty clothes into your suitcase he is standing at the door. You grab the little box and sit on your bed gesturing to him to do the same. Curiously eyeing you, he closes the door and joins you, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“I got you a Christmas present,” you tell him smirking in excitement, and you see his face completely fall.

“Fuck, Y/N, I didn’t know you would, so I didn’t get you anything. If I would have known--”

“Shush, it’s not even a real gift. Just a little something that reminded me of you.”

You hold out your hand, palm facing up as the box sits in the middle. Harry hesitantly glances down at it, back at you and then his eyes settle on the box as he slowly takes it. You watch his fingers work on it, gently opening the little paper box that you didn’t even wrap.

The little silvery keychain slides out into his palm and he examines it with furrowed eyebrows, reading the two words it forms.

“For fuck’s sake,” he chuckles shaking his head when he finally realizes what it says, holding his gift up that reads ‘twerk it’ and it even lights up if he switches it on at the back.

“I just saw it and it screamed for you, I couldn’t not buy it,” you laugh, enjoying the scene a tad bit too much. It’s a subtle reference to the night in the bar when the two of you sang together at the karaoke machine and Harry swore he did not twerk in the middle of the performance, but you remember it clearly, no need to deny. You’ve been teasing him with it since then constantly and thought it would be funny to take it a step further.

“I’m… speechless,” he chuckles, carefully sliding it back into the box. “I’ll put it to my keys. I’ll always know which one is mine,” he shakes his head.

He stays in your room and the two of you are quick to start chatting about anything and everything. Harry tells you about Christmases at his family and you think how fun it all sounds, wishing you could go with him tomorrow. 

“When are you leaving in the morning?” you ask. The two of you are now comfortable in bed, an unspoken agreement has been settled that you’re sleeping together again. Deep down you were hoping for it to happen again, but you weren’t sure how it would stand with Harry, you thought he only agreed to it last night because you both were drunk. But when he slid under your covers when he was in the middle of a story you smiled, knowing he won’t be leaving tonight.

“Um, I have to leave before seven. My flight is at eleven and I need to get my stuff from my place before I head to the airport,” he sighs, fidgeting with the pillowcase as you are both lying on your sides facing each other. “Do you have a lift back home?”

“Yeah, already talked to Aunt Monica,” you nod into the pillow. 

Harry lets out a yawn and buries his head deeper into the pillow, making himself comfortable. His eyes flutter closed and you use this chance to take a good look at his peaceful features. He truly is a beautiful man, no doubt about that. You wonder if he realizes that about himself too, or he thinks otherwise.

Reaching to the nightstand you turn the lamp off, bringing darkness over the room and turning back to face Harry you try to relax and fall asleep, but it’s not really working. There are too many thoughts whirling around in your mind and quite a few questions you want to ask him. 

“Harry?” you whisper, hoping he hasn’t fallen asleep.

“I still think you have a good ass, if that’s what you want to ask,” he mumbles keeping his eyes closed. You let out a chuckle.

“It’s not.” You see his eyes open as he glances at you waiting for you to tell him what’s on your mind. “Why were you such an asshole that morning?”

Out of everything you’d ever wanted to ask, this is the most burning question you’ve been dying to find an answer to since day one. Now, after such a wonderful time spent around each other your confusion about his actions just grew way bigger and you just couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. This side of him you got to see during the holidays is nowhere near the one that kicked you out of his room in the morning, but a lot like the one you first met the night before. The switch between these two sides was so fast and unexpected, you couldn’t wrap your head around it, not even years later.

His jaw clenches and he stays silent for quite a while, you start to think he won’t even answer, but then he speaks up. 

“I… don’t know. I panicked.”

“From what? Me?”

“I just…” Sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth he bites into it harshly before letting go of it. “This is how it has always been. This is what I always do.”

“With other girls?” you ask and he nods. 

“But I do realize that I was an asshole. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’ve never felt more humiliated.” Your voice dies at the end as you feel your throat closing up. Even after all these years you still remember clearly how his words made you feel. 

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that,” he breathes out and reaching out he quickly pulls you into his embrace. You bury your face into his chest without a second thought as you try to swallow your tears. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“You could have just told me you didn’t want anything serious. It wouldn’t have been that painful than being treated like a slut,” you mumble, his hands soothingly caressing your arm over his stomach and your back. 

There’s a short pause before he speaks again. “I know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It’s the last thing that’s spoken. Once you have gotten it all off your chest, you feel relief and calmness coming over you as Harry keeps gently stroking your skin. Sleep comes to you faster and easier than ever. 

It’s bright outside when you turn around in bed, arm reaching out, expecting to find Harry lying next to you, but it’s just the empty mattress. Taking a deep breath you open your eyes and realize that you in fact are alone in your bed. Checking the time on your phone you see that it’s already past nine, meaning that Harry might even be at the airport by now. Pulling your knees up to your chest you stare down at the side of the bed where Harry slept. You can’t help, but feel disappointed he didn’t even say goodbye, but he probably just didn’t want to wake you up.

You shuffle over to his room and it stands empty. Sitting down to the edge of the bed you stare out the window, an unsettling feeling boiling inside you as you think about Harry flying away from the country. It’s silly, you know he is just going to see his family, but selfishly you wish he stayed there with you the whole time and the two of you went back home together. 

Walking back to your room you see that you have a new text. It’s from Harry. Opening it you see that he just sent you a video. It’s nothing else, but his hand as he locks his home’s door, turning the key twice, his keychains and other keys jingling in his hold and that’s when you see the gift he got from you yesterday. You can’t push your smile down.

“Have fun at home! X” you write him quickly, and he is quick to like the message, no reply. 

It’s a whole blur between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you spend time with Marcus, clean up your apartment for the new year like you usually do, get some work done between the holidays and go furniture shopping with Rosa and Steven. In just a blink of an eye you are getting ready to head out to this lowkey party Marcus invited you to tag along for New Year’s Eve. You didn’t really have plans, you usually did something spontaneous with one of your friends or colleagues. Last year you were with Rosa and Steve. She was already heavily pregnant so it was a rather quiet evening, you were in bed by one am. 

It seems like this year is gonna be a little more excited, but you are just not that thrilled to celebrate, if you’re being honest, but you go anyway. 

It really is just a small gathering with food and drinks in a nice apartment downtown. Everyone seems nice and Marcus makes sure to include you in every conversation so you don’t feel like a stranger. 

When the clock strikes midnight he pulls you close and kisses you softly as everyone cheers and glasses a clinking around you. Soon enough the phone calls and texts start flowing in and everyone seems caught up in all the well wishes as the first minutes of the new year pass by. 

Harry’s name is the last one to pop up on your screen, but he is calling you instead of just shooting you a text. Excusing yourself you step out to the balcony so you can hear him.

“Hey,” you breathe out answering the call.

“Happy New Year!” he cheers, some chatter coming from somewhere behind him and you wonder who he is celebrating with.

“Happy New Year,” you smile wrapping your free arm around your figure. You should have brought your coat with you. “Having fun?”

“Yeah, but no one wants to do karaoke, I have the lamest friends,” he tells you chuckling and you let out a laugh.

“Should have invited me too.”

“Definitely,” he huffs. “That way my face could have been the first thing you saw in the new year!” he jokes and you laugh letting your head fall back.

“I truly missed out on that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, shame.” You hear someone call out his name and he shouts back a quick reply. “I gotta go, but happy new year again, Y/N,” he softly says into the phone, his voice sweet like honey.

“Happy new year, Harry,” you smile before the line cuts off.

Your gaze wanders over to the bright city lights ahead you and a thought runs over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.

Why did you enjoy this short conversation with Harry way more than the kiss you shared with Marcus at midnight?

***

You watched your sister and her new husband slow dance in awe. The bright shine in her eyes was something you were sure you’d never forget. You’ve seen the fill up with tears so many times, you wished you’d only see her like this for the rest of her life.

After the second half of the song couples started joining them on the dancefloor, including your parents and cousins with their spouses. A soft sigh escaped your lips that you wouldn’t share this feeling with them, but then a hand appeared in your sight.

“Want to dance?”

Harry was smiling down at you with so much charm, you felt a little stunned at first, just staring up at him with parted lips before you realized that he was waiting for your answer.

Sliding your hand into his, you tried to ignore how the warms of his palm made you shudder and after you stood up he walked you right to the dance floor, the two of you turning to face each other. It took a few seconds to figure out where your hands went, but eventually it all came together and you started dancing, chests pressed together and you were very aware of his hand on your waist. You’d had a few champagnes by now and you could definitely feel your cheeks heating up from being so close to him.

“I have to tell you this is my first time slow dancing with a guy,” you admitted biting into your bottom lip. Harry turned his head a little so he could look into your eyes.

“Really? What about school dances?”

“I was… I never had a proper date at them. Usually went with my friends.”

Harry’s eyes lingered over your gaze and for a heart beat, they wandered down to your lips before his green orbs returned to your eyes. You felt his hand squeeze your waist gently as a smile tugged on his lips.

“It’s an honor to be the first one.”

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[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

👉👈 Okay so do you have any fics where stiles is lonely and the pack cheers him up? I'm feeling the same way and I'd like something to cheer me up Completely fine if you can't. Sterek please! And thank you!!!

AND

Anonymous said: do you have any fics where stiles is alone/lonely, like not bullied or anything, just alone. Perferibly Sterek and/or pack

Hi @youdontgettolikemyhaircut! Sorry for the delay, I hope you’re feeling better. Here’s some virtual love.

Silence by VoidSterekOTP

(2/2 I 2,425 I Mature)

Silence, always silence. No matter how many times he calls, whenever the pack are together all he receives is silence.

His grades have dropped. The nightmares are back. And his friends? Well, maybe he doesn't have any anymore.

Seven by 5sosquiff

(1/1 I 8,764 I Not Rated)

Detective Stilinski gets a new partner on the most publicized Beacon Hills case in history. But this case just gets more and more elaborate and its culprit is closer to Stiles than he could ever anticipate. And then there's the fact that his friends keep on dying and his new partner is sex on a stick.

Epic, Teen Love Story by WordsCreatedWorlds

(1/1 I 10,412 I Mature)

Stiles is Derek's mate, and everyone else seems to know but him. He's waiting for his epic, teen love story, but he may jut miss the one unfolding in front of him.

Necrosis by Aris

(4/4 I 23,218 I Teen)

Wings are thought to be a reflection of who you are inside.

After the Nogitsune, Stiles's begin to rot.

No Time Like the Future by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 

(1/1 I 40,950 I Teen)

It wasn’t until he was ten that the full explanation came to him, because every year when a group of kids turned ten, schools had a one-day course specifically about soulmates, what they meant, and why everyone had weird writing on their arms.

Derek remembered sitting in that all-day class, completely horrified, and absolutely devastated. The course leader made it sound like a good thing. Soulmates were the other half of your own being, they were the person you were supposed to love and cherish, who would understand every part of you, and all that other garbage nonsense. He was not here for this.

It wasn’t that Derek had any understanding of love—not romantic love, and certainly not at ten years old—but he read a lot of books and watched some shows and movies with his family, and love looked like something different in those environments. Love looked like a choice, like the meeting of people, and the getting to know them, and actively falling in love with a person because they were amazing and nice and just fit.

Soulmates didn’t sound like that.

Lone Wolf by Kikileduc

(19/19 I 46,444 I Teen)

Stiles feels forgotten, he feels left out. So he does something about it, while getting reacquainted with nature he stumbles on to something else. If the pack doesn't need him, if his dad wants him to stay out of it all, well, maybe he just needs a distraction in the form of 3 adorable wolf cubs!

It's (Not) a Cult by lhr111

(19/19 I 56,062 I Explicit)

“Well Stiles, you told me a few weeks ago that you thought Derek was leading a cult.”

At that Derek whipped his head toward Stiles in shock. “You thought I was a cult leader?”

Stiles will not be shamed. “Well, either you or Peter. Peter made more sense, but since he deferred to you that one time I was a little unsure. I mean, what else could I think with all the weird shit going on. You, hanging out with random high school seniors, doing secret things, ordering them around like you are their parent, them actually doing what you tell them. It’s really weird, okay?”

“Are you familiar with Harry Potter?” Derek asks.

Talk about a non sequitur. “What? What does that have to do with anything? And, of course I know Harry Potter!”

“Well to quote Sirius Black, ‘Once again you’ve put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion.’"

The Sheriff starts snickering, and Stiles is both insulted and also a little in love.

A Life for a Life, Makes the Whole World Bound by augopher

(26/26 I 90,697 I Mature)

Stiles was lonely; there was no other way of putting it. The Nogitsune had left the pack a wary of him, not that they thought it had been his fault. No, they worried it would happen again. Once bitten, twice shy. The morning after his 18th birthday, his torso was covered in mysterious green tattoos. He hadn’t been that drunk. He'd definitely remember that. Great. Something else to make him feel like a freak. Insomnia led him to his mother’s diary and a tale of how she helped an odd man once who gave her the warning, “Be careful of your wishes three." Everything clicked into place. So...he was a djinni. He subtly changed things about himself. More muscle? Done. Better hair? Done and done. End his crippling insecurity? Done, done, done. He hid his new gift until he found himself bound to Derek. With Deaton’s help, they translated meanings in his tattoos, but they were incomplete. A passage of his 'Rules and Regulations' was missing. Everything was fine dandy until Stiles’ new powers and penchant for mischief and karmic retribution threatened to destroy him, fracture his mind, and turn him into something which couldn’t be contained. Could the pack save him in time, and at what price?

[let-me-luve-you]

Lock Down Streams

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: Quarantine calls for a fun family live stream.

Warnings: angst, fluff, cyber bullying (rude fans and hate comments)

MASTERLIST

Being on lock down has obviously been a pain in the butt, but you see the silver lining, your brothers were home. With Tom’s filming schedule and Harry always going with him, you barely got to see them. Thankfully you lived with them, so when they were home you got to see them all the time. Seeing them as of late though was slim.

But now with the global pandemic, your brothers were home, Haz was home, and everyone was quarantining together. It hasn’t been all that bad. The boys are very entertaining. You’ve done The Brothers Trust puzzle competition, you’ve all played board games (which may or may not have ended in some fights), and you and Tom have found fun at home workouts to do together.

Tom decided it would be fun to do a live stream and get all siblings involved. Answer some fans questions, but most importantly let them see the siblings interact with each other. Let fans see Tom and his family as they are. Not putting on a show, not scripted to say certain things.

“Hey Y/N, we are about to go live, are you joining us? Tuwaine and Harrison are joining too.” Tom said as he popped his head into your room.

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a second. Are Paddy and Sam joining us?” You asked.

“Harry is going to add them to the live after we start.” Tom said.

You nodded your head as Tom walked out of your room. Sam and Paddy were at your parents house quarantining and you hadn’t really seen them as much. You got up and went to look for your two blood brothers and two adopted brothers. You found them in the dining room already live. You could hear Tom and Harry bickering.

“No you Div, give it to me.” Harry said as he snatched the phone out of Tom’s hand.

“I had it.” Tom said defensively.

“No you didn’t. Here, now we have Sam and Paddy on. What’s going on guys?” Harry said into the phone.

“Hey! We are on. Knew Tom couldn’t do it.” Sam laughed. “Who all is on this live?” Harry turned the phone to show everyone as you walked closer to him.

“Holland sibling reunion plus Tuwaine and Harrison.” You said and smiled into the phone to see Paddy and Sam. “Hey guys! Miss you!” As you went to back away, that’s when you started to see the comments.

Ew Y/N is here.

I thought it was supposed to be the boys only

Y/N get out of here. We just want to see the boys.

If we wanted to see you we would ask

You were trying to hold in your shock at the rude comments. You thought people were okay with you. Obviously they only know about you because of Tom, and they don’t like you as much as Tom, but you didn’t think they would talk crap on his live stream.

“Okay guys! Let’s get some questions for all of us..” Tom looks down at the comments as questions flood in. “Tom who is your favorite sibling?” Tom laughed reading it. “Well that is just putting me in a bad position, but if I’m being 100% honest, it’s Y/N. Everyone knows. Might as well fully claim it now.” Tom turned and smiled at you. You laughed as Harry gave him the bitch face.

“Haz where have you been?” Harry read. Harry turned to Harrison to see him answer.

“Well I was about to go to Paris when the lock down happened. Before that I was in Germany doing some stuff that will be released later this year. Can’t really talk about that one yet though.” Harrison answered.

“Have you been cooking for everyone Sam?” Sam read from the live. “I have been. Mom, Dad, Paddy, and I have eaten really well this lock down. They’ve been my guinea pigs on new recipes.”

“WHAT?!” Harry said. “You’ve been cooking? And not sharing?”

“Sorry mate.” Sam said looking unremorseful.

“Y/N come read one.” Tuwaine said to you. Tom pushed the phone closer to you so you could read the comments.

No one wants to see her.

Y/N omg I love her

Give us more Sam and Harry fighting.

Y/N go away

Who’s your favorite brother?

NO ONE CARES GIVE US THE BOYS

You read all the comments barely seeing any questions or positive notes. You finally read a question, but Tom had already seen your face drop. Sam and Paddy had read the comments and knew you were affected by it.

“Um..” You stumbled through your words. “I would have to say my favorite brother is Tom. Sorry boys, but yeah. Tom for sure.” You sat back and watched as Tuwaine saw a question for him.

“Tuwaine, when will you have a new movie or show out? Well you guys, I’ve been working on some stuff that I can’t really talk about yet, but be on the look out. Promise you the wait will be worth it.” Tuwaine said and smiled.

“Seriously you guys. Tuwaine has talked to me about it and the wait will be worth it. Tuwaine is going to kill it.” Tom said proudly. Tuwaine turned shy as he responded with a small thank you and a grab of Tom’s shoulder.

The comments kept running through your head as the boys kept answering fans questions. You didn’t want to sit there anymore so you pulled your phone out.

“Oh mom’s calling me, I’ll be back.” You said walking out of the room.

Sam looked up from the phone and saw his mom sitting there reading a book. He grabbed Paddy’s phone and texted Haz.

Hey mate, it’s Sam. Tell Tom to go check on Y/N. She was getting hate comments. Mom didn’t call her.

Haz felt his phone vibrate and looked at it. Harry and Tuwaine were talking about something they had done the day before so when he showed Tom his phone, it wasn’t noticed by many.

Tom felt his heart drop. He loves his sister so much. He’s always trying to protect her from hurt and knowing his fans were hating her, he felt responsible. Tom stood up with a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ and left the room.

“Y/N” Tom said as he gently opened your door. He saw you sitting on your bed just staring out into the backyard. “Hey. I’m sorry my fans are rude. I’m going to go back in there and say something.” You went to say something but Tom stopped you. “No before you say anything, It’s not okay for them to attack my family. You are my little sis and my best friend and I won’t stand for it.”

You smiled at his protectiveness and stood up and wrapped him in a hug.

“I love you.” You said as he kissed the top of your head.

“Love you back.” Tom said as he pulled away and smiled at you. “Come on. Let’s go back in there and finish the live.”

You walked back in to Paddy describing the time Harry got his head stuck in a bucket. You laughed quietly as you remembered the day. It was your fault the bucket was stuck.

“Y/N is an evil sister. She pushed the bucket down harder. We had to cut it off. Dad had to take me to the A&E.” Harry laughed as he said this and looked up to smile at you.

“Next time don’t try to make me eat a worm.” You laughed.

“Okay guys. I want to say something really quick and then we are going to go.” Tom said. Haz had shown Harry and Tuwaine Sam’s text so they knew what was coming. “I know that you all like our interactions together, and I know that you are more fans of us because we are guys and you think we are cute. But I won’t stand for you talking bad about Y/N. I won’t stay quiet and ignore it. Y/N is smart, beautiful, kind, and the most caring person I have ever met. She is my best friend. We see the comments you make. We see that you don’t care for her as much as you care for us. When we see comments like that, it makes us not want to do things like this. We love interacting with you guys and we know that it isn’t all of you doing it, but a few bad people can ruin it for everyone.”

I love my family. I love my sister. I won’t stand for this. We planned on being on for longer or doing this again, but as of now we are going to end this one and not do this again for a while. We thought it would be fun to talk with you guys during this time. Gives us something to do and we were hoping if you were bored, it gave you something to do. We may do this again, we may not. But just know that I won’t allow you talk shit on my family. I’m grateful for my fans, I wouldn’t be where I am without you, but I also would be absolutely no where and nothing without my family.” Tom finished.

“What Tom said. Y/N is my little sister. I don’t like people that try to hurt her.” Tuwaine added.

“She’s my best friend. She is always there for me when I need her. It’s been my job to protect her as well as Tom, Harry, and Sam’s job. Nothing comes before family.” Paddy added on the phone.

Harry wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer.

“So know that we see the comments.” Harry said.

“We know who you are.” Sam said.

“And we won’t stand for you spreading hate.” Harrison finished.

“We love our fans, but we love Y/N more. So until next time… maybe. You all stay safe and wear your mask.” Tom said. “Now how do I turn this thing off.” Harry laughed and grabbed the phone to turn off the live.

“You okay Y/N?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah. Thank you. All of you. You guys are the best.” You smiled at them. They all smiled at you. “Now. Let me make some popcorn and we can watch movies the rest of the day."

[ilove-cedricdiggory]

Collide

George x Hufflepuff Reader

Summary - You and George have a few years difference, but have been dating sense your second year at Hogwarts. But, after he leaves during his 7th year without telling you and his letters stop coming, you assume a break up. After the war, you collide.

Trigger Warnings - Angst to fluff, cussing, panic attack.

Your hand burned with pain, drops of blood still seeping past your bandage and onto the floor as you sat in the Great Hall. You were sitting at your house table, not being allowed to sit with your boyfriend now that Umbridge was around. Not that you wanted to right now anyway. George was the absolute love of your life, your relationship two years strong now. The only problem is that George is overly protective of you.

It never bothered you, you actually loved it. He would make sure the stuck up students in the houses didn't pick on you, that you are properly, and, just recently, you didn't have to endure a punishment with the toad. He couldn't control this one though, seeing as how you had passed out some of your homemade cookies and she assumed they were Weasley products, meaning you broke one of the many new school rules.

You had tried to explain to her that they were normal, warm, homemade snickerdoodles, but you found yourself sitting at her desk writing 'I will not break rules' until it "sunk in". You knew George would just about hate himself if he was an extension of why you were punished - seeing as how she wouldn't have assumed they were prank cookies if you weren't dating George, but you didn't care either way. You loved him, more than anyone or anything (don't tell that to your muggle succulent sitting next to your bed).

George had been eyeing you all throughout dinner, getting Fred and Lee to trying to get your attention. Your hand was hidden under the table, and you waited until the three turned to discuss your mood to jump out of your seat and leave for the common room. You assumed they heard the door open, because right as the door began to close, you heard your boyfriend yell out for you, "Y/N!"

Your speed picked up, moving to the hufflepuff entrance, but his feet were more determined and his hand gripped your wrist, only, the bandaged on.

You hissed out in pain, pulling your hand from his as you eyed him. "When? When did she get you?" His questions were quick and to the point. "Right after you left to rush to potions. I was handing Laurence his batch of cookies and she thought they were..." you trailed off, not wanting to direct tell your boyfriend why you got punished. "She thought they were Weasley products. Shit, y/n, I'm so sorry."

You shrugged it off, not wanting to make it a bigger deal. "It's fine, love. It was bound to happen sooner or later." you reached up to kiss his cheek, but he took a step back. "Bub, it's really okay. Lindsey has some healing potion left over from when she brewed it last and she told me at dinner she's more than happy to give me some. I'll be all fixed up before bed." You reached for his hand, but he brought it to his pockets, nodding.

"Okay, well, get inside and get all fixed up please. I told Fred I'd let him know exactly what was going on with you, and he'll be worried if I don't go tell him." your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You usually wait until tomorrow to tell him, what's going on?" You were offended he wasn't going to come in and help you apply the potion, having done the same for him quite a few times.

"I really should get going. I'll talk to you soon." he left a very quick kiss on your hairline, moving to step back. "Okay? I love you." you stated firmly, but watched as he turned around and left you standing next to the entrance to Hufflepuff.

The next day, you found yourself running into the hallway with Ginny, watching as Fred and George tossed their fireworks up in the air and fly around the loose papers, laughing brightly. Fred's eyes met yours momentarily, but looked away quite quickly and moving with George to leave hogwarts in their dust, flying far away from you and all their classmates.

"What. The. Hell?" you turned to Ginny, your best friend, feeling your heart begin to rip. "Y/n, I have no idea. I don't know what just happened." Your breath was shakey as you nodded, moving to your room quickly to send him an owl.

Weeks past and you heard nothing from your boyfriend. Owls upon owls were sent his way, but nothing ever returned from him. You received one letter from Fred, but didn't open it. You didn't want to hear his version of his brothers excuse, you wanted it straight from your love. You wrote to Molly in confusion, but got a letter back with her own. She had no idea you and George had ended, confused with her son's actions.

During that summer, you still got nothing from him. You come to accept that the two of you were over, not even heading to the Burrow until the last week of summer, but your heart broke even more every time one of them looked at you with their sensitive eyes.

You found yourself fighting alongside everyone during the war, having seen their flashes of red hair once or twice. The only moment you had that was noteworthy, was the moment you stood behind the rubble, hearing Fred cry out, and quickly levitating the rubble off of him, conforming he was okay. As soon as you saw people coming to his assistance, you fled the scene, not wanting to speak with George about it.

You watched from across the room as the Weasley's hugged his body, crying tears of joy. Fred was still your brother, no matter if you talked to him or not. The last thing you would ever want was for the world to be without him. After the war was officially over, Voldemort long gone, you found yourself lost again. You wouldn't go to the Weasley's, you didn't know if Fred saw you help him and didn't want to speak to George about it.

You didn't go home, not wanting to try to explain to your muggle parents exactly what happened. Your feet lead you to the hufflepuff room, smiling as you entered it, feeling the warmth still seeping through it's walls.

You stayed behind, helping to rebuild the school. You still had a year left of schooling and you wanted to get as much time in Hogwarts as you could. But, sooner than you expected, you were officially graduated from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your grades immaculate and you quickly found a job in Herbology.

Your office was in Diagon Alley, working in one of the shops. Your job description being to assist students in their search for specific ingredients for potions, but also keeping the ones in the store to their best condition. After about a month, you were surprised that you still hadn't run into either of the Weasley twins, but you weren't complaining about it.

You had met with Ginny a few times for lunch, loving seeing her more than anything. You both were out, catching up on your week with each other. Listening to her go on and on about her love with Harry filled your heart. You were never upset with her for finding her true love when yours slipped through your fingers.

"Were thinking about getting a place of our own, y/n. Harry has been staying with us for the most part, having done it so often before we were together. Now, we might as well." You smiled widely at your best friend, loving how happy she was.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" Your heart squeezed in your chest, hearing his voice. "Fred?" Ginny looked behind you at her older brother, smiling and standing to hug him. "I'm eating lunch with-" she cut herself off, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. She was the only one who knew about what you did for Fred and how you still felt about George, but never pushed you about it. She had been livid with her brother for leaving you the way he did.

"Uh, with me." You stood, turning to look at Fred. He had a few scars from the rubble that fell on him, but looked just like himself. "Y/N." he breathed out, his face lighting up with happiness. "Holy shit! I've missed you!" His arms wrapped around you quickly, pulling you to him and kissing your head. "Thank you." he whispered in your ear, holding you tighter.

You were confused at his thanks, but sharply exhaled when you realized. "You saw." you whispered back, feeling him nod. "Yeah, I looked for you for a year and a half to thank you sooner, but I couldn't find you. Ginny here wouldn't tell me where you were." You nodded, moving yourself from his arms.

"Yeah, I couldn't really bare to be around, you know." you whispered, looking at your feet. "Y/N, that's beside the point. You saved my life. You did. Even after what we did, even after how we both treated you without telling you, you saved me." This caused you to look up at the twin, who looked so much like George. You were always able to tell the difference, from the moment you met them. You didn't know how, but you could.

"Fred, you're my family. I would save you no matter what, just like you would me." You reached to brush some hair from his eyes, smiling.

"You did what?" It was now George's voice that filled your ears, causing you to turn around and look into his own eyes. "Nope, nope, nope, not doing this. Not ready." You felt your breath quicken, moving to grab your purse and kiss Ginny on her cheeks. "I'll owl you about next time. Bye." You put a few coins down for your lunch, seeing as it was your turn to pay, then moved past Fred quickly.

"Y/N!" All three of them called out for you, but you raced through the streets of Diagon Alley. You weren't immediately going back to work, not wanting them to know where it was. Your feet carried you past a building and into it's alleyway, your eyes clutching closed. This time, you outran him.

"Y/N." he whispered, standing in front of you. Or not.

"No, George. No. No, no, no." Your hands went to grip your hair, squeezing it. You had panic attacks before the war, George knew that, but they increased considerably after it. It had been a few days sense your last, but this one was coming on quickly.

"Hey, hey love, it's all right. I'm right here." He slipped your hands from your hair, moving them to your sides then hugged you tightly. One of the things he learned during your relationship was, holding you as tightly as he could, letting your senses fill with him, helped incredibly. While you wished they wouldn't this time, your body found itself calming down like it did each time in school.

"Hey, it's okay. Come on." He grasped your hand softly, knowing how tired panic attacks left you. Your body was still shaking softly, and you knew if you spoke, you'd be a stuttering mess. He lead you back around and into the shop, causing you to laugh at your own misfortune. Of course you'd try to hide behind his own building. He guided you into the foreign store, you not having stepped foot into it once. Before you had time to register the absolute wonder of it all, he had you upstairs into the flat and sitting on their couch. "Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, I know we have some."

He had left you to walk into the kitchen, searching for their normal candy, not wanting to make you puke or cause your hair to turn orange. "Ah." he quickly moved next to you, protecting you like he used to as kids.

"George." you whispered after you calmed, keeping your eyes from his. "No, let me, please." He took your hand with one of his, the other guiding your head to look into his. "I was so, so, so idiotic. When you told me about your detention, I thought it was my fault. If you weren't dating me, she wouldn't have ever thought you were handing out products. Fred and I had already planned to leave, but I told him to move it up. I don't know how many times I wrote to you, but tore it up before I sent it. Then, during the war, I don't know how I didn't just walk up to you and keep you protected in my arms. It killed me to know something could happen to you and I wouldn't protect you from it. Now, I'm hearing you saved Fred. You protected yourself and him at the same time. I was an idiot to ever think that you couldn't protect yourself. I was an absolute git for leaving you like I did." you had hardly breathed while he spoke, your tears falling just as freely as his.

You nodded, kissed his cheek, stood up, and apparated home without a single word.

You sat in your own living room, breathing treatment done, your hair pulled up in a ridiculous bun, and your face mask sitting on your face. You had cried your eyes out for hours when you arrived home, but you couldn't let yourself be hurt by George Weasley again. You had your legs pulled up, a book in your hand, as you tried not to cry yet again. The whistle of your tea kettle brought you out of your own world. Setting your book down, you moved to your kitchen. After taking it off the heat, a owl flew into your kitchen, looking at you.

"Y/N, come to the burrow quick, it's Ginny." The words were scribbled in the handwriting of Harry, and you immediately apparated into the living room you spent so long in. Only, the lights were dim, the candles lit, and it just about silent. You heard a muggle record playing, and looked around the room.

"Ginny? Harry? Molly?" you called out, moving to the kitchen. Only, you were met with your ex boyfriend, standing there himself. "I don't know. I got a letter from Ginny saying mom was unwell." He spoke, looking around the kitchen. "I got one from Harry about Ginny." you said, but let out a screech of fear as the doors slammed shut.

"You're not getting out until you make up and promise me I get to be the maid of honor at your wedding." Ginny's voice filled the air, causing both of your eyes to widen. "I'm best man!" you heard Fred call out, causing you to let out a light laugh.

"Guys, let us out." George said, moving to the door. "No, make up, make out, make babies." Fred said, a smirk heard through his words.

George turned to you, looking into your eyes. "I know, were stuck." you said, laughing softly. You felt confused with yourself. While you were absolutely heartbroken with the man before you, you felt as comfortable with him as you did before. "I'm sorry I left you like that. You didn't deserve it." You spoke first, looking at him.

"I kinda did." he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, you did." you said, looking into his eyes. "I'm so sorry love." He said, moving closer to you.

"George Weasley, I am beyond mad at you. I am beyond hurt with you. You broke me into tiny pieces. You were my protector, my best friend, and the love of my life, and you left me. Without a second look, you left me." You said, looking at him, letting your feeling spill from your lips. "You protected me from the one thing you thought I needed protecting from most, yourself. While you are a complete and utter git for it, I understand." you finally voiced your true thoughts to him, biting the inside of your cheek.

"While I will be so absolutely terrified you'll leave me again without a second look, incredibly insecure of myself every single day, the only thing I want more than anything is for you to kiss me again. And while I can't promise you marriage or kids like your family wants right now, I'm giving you a chance. But George, if you break me again, I will hex you so hard." You spoke, looking at the man.

He didn't speak a single word, but wrapped his arms around your face like he did oh so many times, and kissed you like his entire life depended on it. Collided your faces together, your bodies together, just like your souls did so many years ago.

You collided.

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost​ {message me to be added!}

[spxllcxstxr]

The Seven Potters Plan Part 1 • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Request: Nope, just wanted to torture myself with this idea :)

Summary: Harry Potter needs to be relocated from his house in Surrey to the Burrow, however, because he’s not quite seventeen yet, he still has the Trace. Your father, Mad-Eye Moody, comes up with a Plan B. Here’s how it goes.

Warnings: canon character death, canon Deathly Hallows, cursing, death, grieving, mention of injury and blood, death eaters, Voldemort, just a lot of hurt/angst

Word Count: 2.6k

A.N: So the first like 1k words are taken straight from the book. Why? Because I’m a sucker for that kind of stuff. Implied that you’re Remus’ age, the two of you are married, why do I think of these things? I’m like 99% sure I made this gender neutral? But if I didn’t like let me know. I know this is angsty, but I hope you all enjoy. Love you all ❤️

EDIT: So the full fic exceeded 250 word blocks, which is shit because this is not meant to be split up. Meaning, the ending is abrupt because I had to split the whole thing. This is fucking stupid, but whatever. Please don’t forget to read Part 2 for the whole story

****

“All right, all right, we’ll have time for a cozy catch up later!” Your father roars from beside you, cutting off Harry’s conversation with Tonks.

A silence falls over the kitchen, everyone staring uneasily in his direction. You tinker with the zipper on your jacket, nervous about the next few hours.

“As Dedulus probably told you,” He continues, one eye glaring at Harry, the other rolling around in its restraint. “we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He’s made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in or out.” You watch his knuckles turn white, the grip on his staff tightening in anger. “All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your mother’s charm does that already. What he’s really done is to stop you from getting out of here safely.”

Harry’s lips tug into a frown.

“Second problem: you’re underage, which means you’ve still got the Trace on you.”

Harry glances around the room, dark eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I don’t—“

“The Trace, the Trace!” Mad-Eye continues impatiently. “The charm that detects magical activity around under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters.”

You swallow roughly at the mere thought of being swarmed by Death Eaters unprepared.

A calloused hand grabs yours, and just by the feel you recognize it at Remus’. His hand is warm and comforting in your grasp.

“We can’t wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you’ll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short: Pius Thicknesse thinks he’s got you cornered good and proper.”

“So what are we going to do?” Harry questions, his determined tone hiding fragility behind his words.

“We’re going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can’t detect, because we don’t need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid’s motorbike.” You father answers gruffly.

You squeeze your husband’s hand hard as you shift around. You hated this plan. It left you all open and vulnerable, and the pit in your stomach was screaming at you that something bad was going to happen. But it was, in reality, the only way to safely get Harry away from his house.

A skeptical look flashes across Harry’s face as well, though he doesn’t say anything.

“Now, your mother’s charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or“—Mad-Eye makes a head gesture around the kitchen, his pockets jingling.—“you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight. In the full understanding that you’re never going to live together again, correct?”

He nods.

“So this time, when you leave, there’ll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you’re outside it’s range. We’re choosing to break it early, because the alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and grab you the moment you turn seventeen.”

The cool metal zipper is still between your fingers, a distraction from all of the grim looks around the room.

“The one thing we’ve got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesn’t know we’re moving you tonight.” Mad-Eye informs him. “We’ve leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: they think you’re not leaving until the thirtieth. However, this is You-Know-Who we’re dealing with, so we can’t just rely on him getting the date wrong; he’s bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case.”

You swallow roughly at the thought.

“So, we’ve given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place we’re going to hide you, they’ve all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingley’s place, (Y/n) and Lupin’s, Molly’s Auntie Murial’s—you get the idea.”

“Yeah.” Harry responds, nodding once again.

“You’ll be going to Tonk’s parents.” You father goes on to explain. “Once you’re within the boundaries of the protective enchantments we’ve put on their house, you’ll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?”

“Er—yes.” Harry stutters. “Maybe they won’t know which of the twelve safe houses I’m heading for at first, but won’t it be sort of obvious once”—he starts counting the heads around him—“fifteen of you fly off toward Tonk’s parents’?”

“Ah,” You scoff. “And here’s the kicker.”

Harry looks at you with a frown. Your father lightly jabs you with his staff.

“I forgot to mention the key point.” Mad-Eye scowls. “Fifteen of us won’t be flying to Tonk’s parents’s. There will be seven Harry Potters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a companion, each pair heading for a different safe house.” He takes out his old flask from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“I hate this plan.” You mutter under your breath. Remus’ fingers trace figure eights between your knuckles.

“No!” Harry loudly protests. “No way!” His hands are balled into fists as he frantically looks at all of you surrounding him.

“I told you he’d take it like this.” Hermione lightly points out.

“If you think I’m going to let six people risk their lives—!“

“—because it’s the first time for all of us.” Ron rolls his eyes at his friend.

“This is different, pretending to be me—“

“Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry.” One of the twins jokes. “Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny, gits forever.”

Harry doesn’t smile but the other twin lets out a snort.

“You can’t do it if I don’t cooperate, you need me to give you some hair.” Harry stubbornly tells you all.

“Well, that’s the plan scuppered.” One twin dramatically sighs. “Obviously there’s no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate.”

“Yeah, fourteen of us against one bloke who’s not allowed to use magic; we’ve got no chance!” The other teases.

“Funny.” Harry sarcastically remarks. “Very funny.”

“If it has to come to force, then it will.” Mad-Eye growls.

“Dad!” You yelp, the idea of piling on top of this kid just to get a strand of hair repulsive to you.

Your father glances at you, face softening, though only slightly. You’re probably the only one who notices. The perks of growing up with him, you guess.

“Everyone here’s overage, Potter, and they’re all prepared to take the risk.”

Taking a deep breath, you focus back on your anchor. Remus’ hand is honestly the only thing keeping you from succumbing to a total breakdown.

“Let’s have no more arguments! Time’s wearing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now.”

“But this is mad!” Harry laughs humorlessly. “There’s no need—“

“No need!” You dad snarls. “With You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Potter, if we’re lucky, he’ll have swallowed the fake bait and he’ll be planning to ambush you on the thirtieth, but he’d be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, it’s what I’d do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your mother’s charm holds, but it’s about to break and they know the rough position of this place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who can’t split himself into seven.”

You let out a sigh, watching as he quickly glances at his friends.

“So, Potter—some of your hair, if you please.”

Still, he’s hesitant.

“Now!” Your dad barks, causing Harry to jump ever so slightly.

Silently, Harry brings a hand up to the top of his head and yanks at his hair as hard as he can, effectively pulling tufts of hair out. He barely even winces.

“Good.” Mad-Eye limps over to him, his prosthetic clanging against the white tiles. He waves the flask in front of him. “Straight in here, if you please.”

He drops them in and as the potion bubbles and sizzles, Ron and Hermione take a glance over his shoulders.

“Right then, all the fake Potters line up over here, then.” Mad-Eye grunts.

Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Fleur casually line up in the kitchen like they aren’t participating in something that might just kill them.

You also notice someone missing.

“We’re one short.” Remus observes.

“Here.” Hagrid grunts, shoving his way through, practically dragging Mundungus by the collar of his brown and dirty robes. He’s placed next to Fleur, who promptly shifts to stand between the twins. You don’t blame her.

“I told you,” Mundungus complains. “I’d sooner be a protector.”

“Shut it.” Mad-Eye growls. “As I’ve already told you, you spineless worm, any Death Eater we run into will be aiming to capture Potter, not kill him. Dumbledore always said You-Know-Who would want to finish Potter in person. It’ll be the protectors who have got the most to worry about, the Death Eaters’ll want to kill them.”

A cold chill runs down your spine. You were to be paired with another protector, mostly because your dad wanted you to be protected as well as the Potter you were guarding. In any other situation you would’ve argued against it, that you were more than capable of handling it all on your own, but this was different. You were absolutely terrified of being on your own.

It’s quiet as Mad-Eye pours the Polyjuice Potion into separate glasses. When the six of them drink the space is filled with gags and gasps as they morph into Harry Potter.

The Harry’s being to change, but you’re too caught up in your own thoughts to pay attention to any witty remarks. Anxiety courses through your veins and your foot taps against the floor.

When all of them are done, Mad-Eye starts announcing the pairs.

“The pairs will be as follows.” He declares, one eyes trained in the parchment in front of him, the other gazing at everyone. “Mundungus will be traveling with me by broom—“

“Why am I with you?” Demands a Harry in the back.

“Because you’re the one that needs watching!” You shout, glaring at the form that now backs away.

“Arthur and Fred—“

“I’m George!” Laughs one of the Harry’s. “Can’t even tell us apart when we’re Harry!”

“Sorry, George—“

“I’m only yanking your wand, I’m Fred really—“

“Enough messing around!” Mad-Eye growls. “The other one—Fred or George or whoever you are—you’re with Remus.”

You bump shoulders with the man next to you.

“Miss Delacour—“

“I’m taking Fleur on a thestral.” Bill interjects. “She’s not that fond of brooms.”

“Miss Granger with Kingsley and (Y/n), again on a thestral—“

Hermione smiles warmly at you and Kingsley, though it’s actually Harry’s crooked grin.

You aren’t surprised with who your father’s paired you with, Kingsley was honestly the only person he trusted with his life. He felt safest with the two of you together. And Hermione was resourceful as well, making the three of you probably the best team.

“Which leaves you and me, Ron!” Tonk’s cheers, hair fluctuating between pink and orange.

Ron, however, doesn’t look too pleased with the setup.

Harry and Hagrid are of course paired up together on his motorbike.

“I make it three minutes until we’re supposed to leave.” Your father grunts, glancing at his pocket watch. “No point locking the back door, it won’t keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking...come on...”

You turn to Remus, eyes suddenly brimming with tears. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe.

“You stay safe, alright?” You whisper, voice cracking.

“Hey, look at me, love.” He utters softly. A finger rests on the bottom of your chin, faces close together. Reluctantly you bring your gaze up to his own honey brown ones, shining with unshed tears. “We’ll be alright, yeah? We’ll be fine.” He tried his best to be convincing, he really does, but it falls flat.

Whatever movement is happening around you fades away.

“I love you, Remus.” You force out almost breathlessly. You might tell him this everyday but he needs to know. He needs to understand it.

“I love you, (Y/n).” He kisses you, lips chapped against your own, but it doesn’t even matter. “I’ll see you soon.”

Hesitantly, the two of you part, him to one of the twins and you to your father.

While everyone else is preparing and saying possibly their final words, your father stands alone, surveying the space.

“Let me have a look at you, yeah?” He grunts, eyes raking over your figure as you approach. “Just like your mother.”

“Mum probably would’ve thought this was a stupid idea too.” You attempt to joke.

You father rests his heavy hands on your shoulders, the weight oddly comforting.

“Yeah well, she thought all my plans were stupid.” He mutters. “She’d be proud, y’know? Fighting for what’s right.”

Your lip trembles which your father notices immediately.

“Oh, c’mere.” He wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a rare hug.

Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody was the best Auror out there with a tough exterior that frightened most to death, but he was always a soft and caring father when it came to you.

“Don’t cry, (Y/n), hm?” His scruffy chin rests on top of your head. “I love ya, I know I don’t say it too often, but I do. I’m so proud...” His own gruff voice catches at the end.

“I love you too, dad.” You sniff, pulling away and wiping your eyes with your sleeves. “You’ll be alright with Mundungus?”

“Eh, the little bastard’s harmless.” He shrugs, trying to wipe his own eye quickly. “If you don’t come back in one piece, Kingsley’ll never see the light of day, though.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” You chuckle.

Mad-Eye glances at his watch. “Damnit.” He mutters. “We’ve got to go. Stay safe, (Y/n).”

“You too, dad.” You reply, making your way to Hermione and Kingsley at your ride.

Your thestral is dark and practically skin and bone like usual. Being in two iterations of the Order of the Phoenix has unfortunately granted you to see threstrals in all their hauntingly beautiful glory.

“Good luck, everyone!” Mad-Eye shouts. “See you all in about an hour at the Burrow! On the count of three. One...two...THREE!”

You hang on tightly to the Harry in front of you, Kingsley guiding the animal to soar into the night sky, the wind almost taking your breath away. You have your wand at the ready, pointing into the void.

Hands shake both from the cold atmosphere and the nerves running through you.

All you do is blink, and five hooded figures have you surrounded, deathly close to you.

“We’ve got company!” You shout over the roaring wind.

You and Hermione fire off spells, Kingsley trying to multitask, but getting away from the cloaked figures was a bit more important.

The two of you try to dodge the best you can, but it’s hard when you’re sitting on the back of a horse.

You don’t know what you cast in the moment, but your body seizes and suddenly one drops like an anvil to the ground below.

The bone chilling feeling of death overtakes you and You-Know-Who, shrouded in a black cloak, quickly rushes past the three of you.

The battle seems like it lasts forever, the back and forth of spells almost unbearable, but eventually you make it to your meeting point, completely exhausted.

•

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