#harry my boy is all smiles when he’s with his family

[alwayshinny]

🎄 Merry Christmas from the Potters 🎄- for @pottermum 🫶🏼

When your reality surpasses anything you ever dreamed of.

[robynlilyblack]

But you’re over here

Fred Weasley x fem! shy! Potter! Reader

Summary: During the final game of the season, a certain redhead couldn’t care less about the trophy

Warnings/tags: swearing, friends to lovers, first kiss, getting together, mutual pining, Hufflepuff reader, potter reader, James being a good dad, Cedric being the best wing and hype man, Jess, Timothy and Joey OCs, marauders being parents

A/n: 4.4k words, ngl the alchemy plays in my head during this kiss scene, apologies for any mistakes I'm a bit ill right now, as always reader can be the bio or adopted older daughter of James and Lily, based on this and this requests ♡

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

“Oh boy, oh boy!” James claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement as he, Lily, Remus, and Sirius reach the top of the stands 

Lily giggles at her husband's enthusiasm, following him to the front row, while Remus and Sirius brace themselves at the top, catching their breaths after a quite frankly atrocious number of stairs

Today was the big game, not only was it the old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but it was the final, and the first year Harry was serving as captain after Oliver passed the torch to him two years ago. It was safe to say as fun as the Triwizard tournament was the previous year, quidditch was still the marauders and co’s favourite pastime. Hell, the whole school was buzzing

“Were they always that high?” Sirius whispers, rubbing his chest “Fuck me” he breathes heavily

“I think we’re just old now my love” Remus chuckles, after all these years he still can’t help but wind up his husband just a little bit

Sirius makes a face “Fuck you! I’m not old…you’re old!” he childishly argues, wearing a grumpy pout that twitches everyone once and again, revealing the smile beneath

“And when is your birthday?” 

Sirius’ mouth opens to reply but alas the man has nothing and is caught looking like a fish, though he’s a very cute fish in Remus’ mind

“We might be old…but you’re still as pretty as you were last time we were up here” Remus compliments, leaning down to peck Sirius’ tinting cheeks “Pretty boy” he whispers one last blow before pushing off the beam and joining his friends leaving Sirius flustered 

“Pads? You comin?” James calls out, head shooting over “Ohhhh” James barks a knowing laugh, whispering something to Remus and patting his back as he sits down

Sirius can’t help but let out a small smile as they turn away “He thinks I’m pretty” he mutters all giddy to himself before joining his friends, taking a seat between Remus and James, with Lily on James’ other side

“See! I told you we were smart coming early, it’s already beginning to fill up” Lily points out, smiling to herself as she shrugs off her jacket, grabbing the others as well, before laying them on the seats behind them to save room for when the McKinnon’s made their fashionably late appearance

James smiles, hand finding the top of Lily's head “That we were, hun” he agrees, patting her head and soaking up her proud little smile as she smooths out the rest of the coats

“Who are you looking for?” Remus asks, pulling James’ attention back to find Sirius squinting off into the distance

“Our goddaughter, I haven’t seen her in ages” Sirius pouts, squinting harder

“You saw her at Easter break” James chuckles 

“Oh yeah” Sirius nods, remembering “Still, I miss her” he confesses, warming the men's hearts

Sirius and Remus decided against children, not that they didn’t want them per se, more they couldn’t confirm the child's safety with Remus’ furry little problem. As such, they filled that hole with you and Harry. Sirius took an extra shine to you though, maybe it was your shy yet cheeky nature that reminded him of Remus, or maybe it’s the little bit of himself he saw in you, watching you get sorted into Hufflepuff when everyone else in your big, wonderfully weird family was Gryffindor. Whatever it was, though today was Harry’s day, he still had to make sure you were alright

“Do you want your glasses?” Remus offers, sighing as he watches his husbands sorry display and reaches for his bag

Sirius swats his hand away “I don’t need glasses moony, I’m fine. It’s just the wind, it’s blowing stuff in my eyes” he gestures around his face, scrunching his nose before attempting to subtly squint again

Remus’ eyes meet James’, shaking his head as he mouths ‘why can’t he admit defeat?’

James smirks, shrugging as he turns away, now interested in where you were, as is Lily after overhearing the debacle. The four searched for you as the student body make their way to the stands. Glancing around Remus’ spots a wild Weasley, smiling as he watches Ron attempt to hold back his blushes as Hermione fixes the red paint on his cheeks. Lily spots Neville, Ginny and Luna in another stand wearing their handmade lion mains. Sirius spots well…nothing, but your father on the other hand is the one to finally find you. 

He watches as you enter the stand diagonal to them with Cedric, Jess and two other boys he doesn’t quite recognise but based on their green scarfs must be Timothy and Joey, which would be two out of the four very few Slytherins in this world he accepted were good, the others being his best friends’ brother and the one and only Dorcas Meadows

“Found her” he points with joy “There she is, ain’t our little fawn beautiful” he shines, causing all their eyes to fall on you as you all worm your way to the front of your own stand

“It’s funny seeing them in red and gold” Remus notes, an amused look as he observes yours, Cedric, and Jess’s Gryffindor scarves, most likely stolen from your brother and his friends…or perhaps secretly gifted from one particular Weasley

Lily nods, but her head tilts to the side as your head taps the taller of the other boy's shoulders “They seem close, which one is he again, Tim or Joe?” she ponders trying to remember

“Tim, she said he was tall in the letters” James confirms “They aren’t together” he says with confidence

“And how would you know that Captain Oblivious?” Remus’ laughs, eyeing his friend but then his gaze drifts to peak at his husband, who's been unusually quiet, realising he’s still very much struggling to see you

Remus slowly collects the glasses from his bag again and holds them up in offering

“Dammit” Sirius sighs accepting the truth and putting them on, looking grumpy until his eyes widen, like he’s seeing a brand-new world

“Better love?” Remus teases while pointing you out again

“Shut up moo…aww there she is, beautiful as ever” he adjusts them smiling “Wait…whoa” he looks at James doing a double take as everything is now in high definition “You’ve aged so well” he notes

James’ smirks “Why thank you, I steal Lily’s muggles products” he admits unapologetically, not that it’s much of a surprise to the girl next to him who just rolls her eyes, accepting the fact she now buys two of every product just for him

“It’s the one with lighter hair, not Cedric, the taller one” Remus points out to Sirius

“Oh…” Sirius eyes the boy, judging “...nah”

“What do you mean nah?” everyone jumps a little at first turning around to see Marlene, Dorcas and the cutest little lion there had ever been joining them “Holy shi… sugar those specks are something” Marlene laughs, catching herself before glancing at her wife, mouthing an apology while their daughter looks up at them confused

“Suu’gar” the little cub repeats before pointing at Sirius “Specky!” she says excitedly “Unkie Jams t‘win” she claps, pointing between James and Sirius before jumping and clapping again all happy with herself

Sirius’ quickly pulls the glasses off, cheeks heating while the others struggle to hold in their giggles 

“I don’t need them” he looks straight at Marlene, trying his best to be convincing

She just gives him a ‘really’ look in return before smiling softly 

Sirius half chuckles, half sighs as he admits defeat, flashing the women a genuine smile “It’s good to see you Marls, you too Dorca darlin” he then looks down at little Lacy “Hello little cub” he coos 

“Rwah!” Lacy holds up her hands in a claw motion, doing her best lion impression 

It was well known the Marauders had one brain cell between them, but when that cell fired it was magical, all including her mothers and godmother pretended she was the most fearsome thing they’d ever beheld, even a couple other parents who had taken seats little ways down joined in. After some pleas and chocolate offered to calm the beast, the group settled in again, catching up as they waited for the game to start.

You rocked on your feet, eyes continually flicking to the players entrance in anticipation

“You good sunshine?” you feel a soft pat to the top of your head, looking up you’re greeted with Timothy's soft smile, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he checked in, worried the ruckus and busyness of the stand was a bit overwhelming for you

You gently tap your head into his shoulder, nodding “I’m good…just excited” you confess with warm cheeks as your nose is flooded with the scent of your scarf again

“Ahhhh” he elongates, giving you and then the scarf a look “Y/n and Freddie sitting in a tree” he whisper sings

Your eyes widen before you attempt a scowl that looks more like a puppy pouting “Shut up” you chide, fixing the scarf a little before looking away, hoping Cedric, Jess and Joey were having a more in depth conversion but instead you find them grinning “Sugar” you press your lips into a downturned smile

They all looked at each other before singing in unison 

“K…i…s…s…i…n…g!” 

Despite your cheeks positively flaming around the second ‘s’, you can help but break into a smile. Your friends knew about your little crush on the Weasley boy from afar. Despite your brother’s closeness with the family you didn’t have such ties, you adored Ginny on the few occasions she had visited, along with Ron and Hermione, but as for the rest of the clan your paths rarely crossed. You were meant to spend the summer with them as your families decided to holiday together, but when Cedric won the Triwizard tournament that changed, and instead, he took you and your friends traveling with the prize money 

Yours paths finally crossed at the beginning of the school year, when Sprout created a seating pattern allowing everyone to get familiar with their randomised Herbology partner before the end of year assignment. You were nervous at first, as you were sure the professor was when she pulled out your names. Putting the quietest person in Hogwarts with the loudest person seemed like it would either be the worst pairing she had ever seen or the most genius 

To her good fortune…and ego, it was the latter. It was surprising to see the king of mischief actually try with his assignments, but most chalked it up to the fact that while you were quiet, you were well-loved by your year, you held no prejudices, helped people with their assignments when the asked you, and was just in general sweet to everyone, to the point even the meanest Slytherins were a little soft on you. Therefore, most assumed Fred couldn’t bear to let you down either, and while that was true at first, a second reason soon bloomed for the boy

It bloomed for you as well, you slowly opened up to him each class, topics drifting to something deeper, and by the time Christmas rolled around you both were close friends. So close in fact you began inviting him to your friend’s secret hideaway by black lake, at first to study, but then to hang out both with and without your other friends. It was funny at first, with Cedric and Jess being rivals in quidditch and Timothy and Joey's Slytherin status, but Fred warmed to them, gaining their trust and, not that they told either of you, their blessing 

“I hate you all” you pout, falling into Cedric’s side hug as you shake your head

“Nah” Timothy joins from the other side

“You love us” Jess chimes in, beaming at you

“Not as much as she loves him though” Joey adds cheekily, nodding towards the pitch, it seems none of you had noticed the crowds stir for the players appearances during your teasing session

Cedric and Timothy quickly retract their grasp, smiling at one another as you lunge adorably forward to see. Your friends soon join you, all cheering, while you find Fred in the small mass of people, admiring him as he laughs with the others. After a few moments, the team is finished talking, beginning to take flight and get into position. Once there, you watch as Fred’s eyes begin to scan the crowd, heart thumping as his gaze slowly draws closer, skipping a beat when they fall on you, and damn near stopping as he doubles back, face lifting 

You see, a few weeks ago you had met Fred to check over your final herbology assignment, which meant a late-night picnic waiting to see if your flower would bloom under the full moon. While chatting, the topic of today's game came up. Of course, now that Hufflepuff were out for the count, he teased you with who you would be supporting, his teasing backfired however when, without missing a beat, said you would be supporting whatever team he was playing in. 

After his slight fluster, which, to this day is one of your proudest achievements, conversation returned to normal, you figured he’s forgotten about it until a first year found you this morning holding a small bundle of Gryffindor scarves, one of which had a red ribbon around it with a note for you

You bring your hands up, hugging the scarf as your eyes meet, causing the biggest smile to take over his face. It was times like this you truly believed your crush was requited, and little did you know a certain redhead was thinking the same thing

“Be brave and go for it” Cedric whispers some encouragement 

He’s right, you think, Now or never

As you mouth him ‘Good luck’, you add a little extra to it, blowing him a kiss

His eyes widen in a pleasant shock, melting into a mix of joy and pride as he pretends to catch it, winking at you before kissing his balled up fist before returning his gaze to the field just before the starting whistle blows

“Way to go gal” Jess cheers, reaching over to give your arm a soft squeeze

“Aww the grew up so fast don’t they” Timothy wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Cedric and Jess both match his energy, taking out handkerchiefs and pretending to be forlorn mothers, with Joey doing the same but with an imaginary tissue

You giggle at them, and while you would usually try to come up with some sort of witty answer, you instead break into a smile “He likes me” you say simply, swaying side to side

“If he didn’t, he’d be an idiot love” Cedric gives you a side hug while the rest of your friends’ smile, happy for you “Now let’s what your man kick snake butt”

“Hey-” Joey and Tim begin to object together but then shrug 

“Oh, who are we kiddin” Timothy laughs, taking off his green scarf and pulling out a red and gold one as does Joey “Pusey’s an arsehole and I want a chance to be a bridesman at your wedding someday”

“Bridesman?” you giggle, heartwarming at the idea of you and Fred getting married someday

“Yip, Ceds already called man of honour” 

The match was a whirlwind of emotion, the kind of game that left everyone on the edge of their seats. Gryffindor and Slytherin were neck and neck at every turn, every goal answered by another, and it was clear to everyone that this match would come down who would catch the snitch first

“Holy shit, this is intense!” James exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat “Merlin, how the hell did you guys watch me and Marls do this back in the day?”

“Jamie…language!” Lily scolds with a giggle, lips quirking up in amusement as she gives Dorcas a please forgive us look

“Oh, don’t worry, Lacey can’t hear a thing thanks to these” Dorcas it waves off, gesturing to Lacey’s adorable, enchanted earmuffs “Watch this” she says leaning over the little girl perched on her lap “You want some ice cream, bubs? What about a unicorn?” 

Lacey doesn’t react at all, instead she stays focused on mimicking her other mothers’ gestures and waves towards the pitch

“Those are…” Lily starts but is promptly cut off 

“What the hell was that!” Marlene huffs, throwing up her hands as the crowds roar once more, a mix of cheers and groans as the Slytherins risky manoeuvre pays off leading to another goal “Fucking Pusey again!”

“Did you get the earmuffs for the crowd or for Marls?” Remus whispers to Dorcas, who struggles to hold back a smile

“Oi! Gingers! Stay in formation! Godric, what are you doing?!” Marlene shouts again, shaking her head as Fred and George narrowly avoid colliding whilst going for the same bludger

“No comment” Dorcas replies with a grin before planting a kiss on Lacey’s cheek

The match grows increasingly heated after Harry lets the snitch slip through his grasp, igniting a fire under Slytherins asses causing their play to get even more aggressive

“This game is insane!” Cedric grips the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white

“Come on, Freddie!” you yell, unable to stop yourself as he whizzes by

You watch him turn ever so slightly, catching your voice over the roar before he dives back into the action, pulling off a spectacular move that has more than one person flushing

“Offt…your man’s a beast” Timothy mutters as Fred swoops in to deflect a bludger, shirt riding up a little as he does “What? I can admire” his cheeks tint as he sees all of your raised eyebrows

“Don’t worry” you say with a laugh, “He’ll never admit it, but he has a little guy crush on you too”

“Really?” 

“Really” you confirm, giggling 

“Did you see that?!” Sirius exclaims, pointing towards Fred after he executes a spectacular mid-air spin to block the Bludger aimed at Angelina “Can’t deny the boys got style!”

“Sure does” James agrees but then his expression sinks to a smug one as he adjusts his glasses “Almost as cool as some of the moves we pulled off ay Marls?” he tries to get her attention but is gifted a passive ‘uh huh’ instead

“Oh, please” Remus argues, chuckling “Are we forgetting in our final year when you tried to do a spin like that and your glasses came flying clean off?”

“What?!” Lily, Sirius, and Dorcas all turned to him in unison

“Moony!” James protests before his face slowly sinks as if awaiting his impending doom

“Wait…” Marlene turns slowly, looking menacingly down at James “You’re telling me. I almost lost my final match as captain because of your speckyless ass?”

James hesitates, his ears turning near crimson as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck “…no comment”

With one final push, the final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You and your friends join in, your eyes look over towards Fred, who’s the first to get to Harry, pulling him into the biggest bear hug. The sight makes your heart warm, but your admiration is cut short as your friends practically pick you up, ushering you to move 

“What’s happening” you ask confused

“Come on, we gotta get down their sunshine” Timothy insists, shooing you along with Cedric, Jess and Joey “You’ve got a ginger to congratulate”

Over on the other stands your family celebrates. Everyone’s on their feet, except Lacey who is now glued to Marlene’s hip as they cheer 

“Yesssss!” James roars, pulling Lily into a celebratory hug…and subsequent snog 

“That’s my godson!” Sirius bellows, fist pumping the air before looking to hug James then realises “Oh…well if that’s what we’re doing, come here moons!” he hithers towards Remus, arms outstretched 

Remus laughs softly before indulging his husband, pulling him in for a kiss before dramatically dipping him

Meanwhile Marlene and little Lacey remain oblivious to the romance in the air, as she was too busy yelling so hard her voice will be lost come tomorrow “THAT’S MY LIONS!”

Dorcas just chuckles at the scene, pulling out Lilys camera and snapping a shot of them all (A/n: art of this bit in the future?)

As their celebrations calm down, they notice the teams beginning to land and everyone else begin to make their way down to join them

“This takes me back” Remus lets out a small laugh watching the red and gold scarfs fly around

Nostalgia fills the air as the others join him, gazing down

“Man…that used to be us” James remarks, letting out a breathy laugh before glancing over at Marlene

She nods, a happy yet bittersweet smile on her face “Yeah…good times” she reminisces before looking down at Lacey “Times are still pretty good…maybe better” she confesses watching her little cub cheer 

Dorcas joins her side, arm wrapping around both Marlene and Lacy as their foreheads meet

“I think we should give them their moment” Lily suggests “We have time to embarrass them later” she giggles

The group hums in agreement. As their stand empties, they begin pointing out things only they are privy to from their vantage point. Like Nevilles and Lunas intertwined hands as they weave through the crowd with Ginny, Lee sprinting to hug George, the Slytherin team sulks, or even Snape begrudgingly handing a couple of gallons to McGonagall. None of them, however, have managed to spot you or your friends yet. 

“I hope y/ns alright in the crowds” James says softly next to Lily

“As long as she’s with her friends I have no doubt shell be alright” she hums, giving your fathers arm a squeeze 

“Oh, there she is…” Sirius points you out before chuckling to himself “…maybe being your twin ain’t so bad” he jokes, wiggling his glasses 

James laughs, wrapping an arm around Sirius as everyone turns their attention back towards you 

Down on the pitch, it’s a flurry of red and gold, so you hold back at the edge where it was quieter, encouraging your friends to head into the chaos and enjoy it. Jess, Joey and Timothy promise to be right back, while Cedric spots Cho in the crowd little ways from yourself and joins her, being careful not to drift too far from you

You beam as you take a couple of steps back, watching Harry get lifted up by Ron and Neville. Much like your parents and family above, you want Harry and Fred to have their moment in the spotlight. There would be more than enough time to talk to them after

Unbeknownst to you, one of that duo was already looking for you. Fred’s eyes scan the chaos for your figure, but finds a familiar blonde in the crowd first, and he smiles watching him kiss Cho’s cheek. Cedric feels the eyes on them, looking up and noticing Fred’s searching expression. He smiles, giving a knowing nod towards you, as does Cho who’s clearly been filled in on the situation. 

Fred’s eyes follow the direction and there you are, standing apart from the rest, your gaze locked on Harry. Taking a deep breath, he hypes himself up, realising in that moment you aren’t just wearing his scarf, but the jumper he gave you to keep warm a few weeks ago as well. That along with the kiss you blew him earlier, are all the signs he needed to finally make a move

“Oi, Freddie” George calls as he moves away from the rest of the team “Where ya going?” George tries again but to no avail, Fred’s already gone, pushing through the crowd, using his broom to help manage the masses

As he breaks free, you do a double take, and he finds himself smiling as your confused expression melts into hope and joy

“You’re supposed to be over there” you tell him, taking a few steps forward as he closes the gap

“But you’re over here” he replies simply before leaning closer, eyes searching yours for permission 

You bite your lip, giving him a nod, to which his own smile grows and his broom is abandoned as his larger hands come up to cradle your cheeks guiding them up towards his lips as they crash into your own. You clutch the front of his sweater, pulling him closer but Fred being the showman he is had other ideas. His hands drop down, snaking around your hips before he dips you back. You squeal at first, then laugh softly with him before your lips reconnect. After that the rest of the world fades away. The cheers and buzz around you becoming a distant hum, neither of you reacting to your friends’ cheers nor the flash of Jess’ camera 

Your friends aren’t the only spectators of course…

“Wait…” Marlene points towards you and Fred “…is he about to…oh!” her mouth drops open, gently covering Lacey’s eyes while Dorcas smiles in a happy shock beside her 

Remus, Sirius, Lily are next to react, eyes widening, before breaking into smiles. Remus and Sirius take a moment longer, clearly doing the ‘does he deserve her’ math in their heads first

“That’s my girl” Lilys hands come up to face, overjoyed, she had an inkling you were a little love struck from your letters, she just didn’t know with who until now

“He’s alright” Sirius begrudgingly admits while Remus nods in agreement

Their smiles and shock soon melt into anticipation as they all slowly turn towards James, who had been a bit too quiet considering the situation. But when they see him, he is…beaming?

Turns out Lily wasn’t the only one with an incline, in fact, James being the girl dad he was, has known about every crush you’ve ever had, your one on Fred being no different. Safe to say, he was ecstatic

“Yes!” he cheers “Oh the dips a nice touch, very classy” he nods in approval before looking over at the others “What?” he takes in their shocked faces

“Prongs?” Remus eyes him “You realise that’s y/n, right?” he feels the need to check

“Yeah” James shrugs before his mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape, his reply sending them into fits of laughter “I’m supposed to be mad right now, aren’t I?”

Thank you for reading ♡

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am VI

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: You come home after a meeting

"Sorry," You laughed," This must be a pretty elaborate joke."

But no one at the table was laughing and your own petered off uncertainly.

"No, I'm serious. Who's pulling this prank?"

You glanced between your father and your brother but neither of them had a hint of a smile on their faces.

"I understand that this might come as a surprise-"

"A surprise?! You're not telling me you're actually serious."

"Y/n," Your brother said," I know that this isn't what you expected-"

You stood up, hands slamming onto the table. "No! You can't be serious. I wasn't even born second in line. Are you crazy? This is breaking, like, years of tradition!"

"As the reigning king, I'm well within my rights to-"

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should!"

"It's already been decided," Your father cut in, holding your gaze unwaveringly," William does not wish to be King and does not wish to for his children to feel the same pressure. Harry has already made his own thoughts on the moment known. It falls-"

"If you say it falls to me, I swear to god-"

"As my only other child, you are next in line."

"Do you understand how crazy you sound? Skipping over two perfectly good lines of succession to instate your youngest child as heir?! What will the media-"

"The media has no say in family decisions," Your father said," Don't think of them. Is it truly this bad for you? That you cannot see a world where you sit on the throne?"

You pursed your lips, glancing away from your father to your brother. "This is truly what you want? William, you and Kate are beloved-"

"I want what's best for my family, I hope you can understand that."

You narrowed your eyes at your brother, poking your finger into his chest. "You so owe me for this," You told him," Big time."

He grinned. "So that's a yes?"

You rolled your eyes. "Well," You said," I always did look better with a crown than the rest of you."

It was only on the flight home that you'd realised just what you agreed to, though to use the word agree would probably be wrong. Your agreement didn't matter much at all actually. With or without your consent, it would have happened.

Something that you realised with startling clarity the moment you stepped through the front door.

The decision had been made.

Now all you needed to do was tell your wife.

"Well, hello, Rufus," You cooed as your nine week old Corgi came bounding towards you," Were you good for your Mami? I think you were!"

"The girls are training were all spoiling him," Aitana said, hip leaning against the wall and arms crossed over her chest," You're home late."

"Meeting ran over," You replied, looping your arms around Aitana's waist to pull her closer," I missed you though."

"I know," She said," You only sent me twenty-thousand messages telling me."

"Don't be stupid," You said," It was at least thirty-thousand."

Aitana rolled her eyes, dropping a soft kiss to your lips.

"Well your son kept me very good company."

"Our son," You corrected, leaning down to pick up the happy Rufus so he could join in," Like I knew he would. He's a good boy."

"Well that good boy took over your side of the bed so you might not be getting it back."

"That's okay. There's a perfectly nice bed at Buckingham Palace waiting for us."

"A bed in which Rufus will sleep in," Aitana insisted and you rolled your eyes, lifting up your wiggling puppy to eye height.

"You win this round, Mr, but don't go around thinking that you're stealing my wife and my side of the bed."

Rufus licked your nose.

"Yeah, I love you too."

"Me or the dog?"

"Both?"

"Good."

It isn't until early evening that you get the chance to tell Aitana about your meeting, when you're curled up in bed together and her head is pillowed on your chest.

"William has withdrawn himself and his children from the line of succession," You said, voice low like it was something secret you were telling her," And Harry's already done the same."

"I don't understand," Aitana said, drawing a soft pattern on your stomach with her finger," What does that mean for us?"

Your muscles tensed under her touch and you had to remind yourself to breath.

"Well, with my brothers and their lines are out," You replied," I mean, technically, it falls-"

"To you," Aitana said," You're next in line."

"I can always abdicate," You explained," I won't take the crown if you don't want me to. I can always-"

You didn't get to finish your thought because Aitana surged forward to plant a kiss on your lips.

"I think," She said," You would look very good in a crown."

"Yeah? I mean, you'd get a crown too."

"Shh," Aitana said, grinning as kisses were given lower and lower," Let's focus on you first."

[harryssyndrome]

Best Brother Ever | h.s

Pairing: Husband!Dad!Harry x Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: a sweet Sunday afternoon with the styles family and Alex being the best big brother.

Word count: 2.6k || MASTERLIST 𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧

Posted On: November 7th, 2024

I got really inspired by a cute reel I saw on Facebook and since then this sweet fluff has been sitting in my drafts for months and I’m really happy with how it turned out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do ♡ let me know your thoughts in comments! Like & reblog are truly appreciated 🥰 REQUEST ARE OPEN.

It was a peaceful Sunday morning in the Styles household, and the cozy, familiar sounds of home filled the air. In the kitchen, YN moved around with practiced ease, stirring a pot, chopping vegetables, and tasting spices with a focused concentration. She’d been at it for a while now, determined to make Harry’s mom, Anne, feel right at home with her favorite dish. In the background, 18 by One Direction played softly, and YN found herself humming along, her voice a gentle echo to the lyrics.

Though the band had gone on indefinite hiatus years ago, and each of the boys had branched off into their own solo careers, YN hadn’t stopped listening. She was a Directioner through and through, and she knew in her heart she’d never let go of those songs—they were part of her story, her history with Harry, and her dreams.

Meanwhile, in the living room, their six-year-old son, Alex, was lying on the mat with Berry, their playful family dog, gently scratching behind Berry’s ears. Berry’s tail thumped in delight, and Alex giggled as the dog rolled over, waiting for belly rubs. The two were inseparable, each one the other’s partner in mischief.

After a few minutes, Alex felt a tickle of thirst, and with his usual burst of energy, Alex stopped scratching and said, “Oh Berry didn’t you get tired of all the scratching? I know, I know you were enjoying it but it’s time for a break, I’m thirsty. You don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone! Granny likes it when you’re a good boy.” He then sprang up and ran to the kitchen, tiny footsteps echoing across the hardwood floor.

“Alex, no running in the kitchen, remember?” YN gently reminded him, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.

Alex skidded to a stop, giving her an innocent look. “Sorry, Mama.” He then carefully walked to the fridge, his small hand reaching for a water bottle. After unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip, he paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

Looking up at his mom, he noticed how she’d been working by the stove for a while. The warmth from the flames made the kitchen a bit stuffy, and in that moment, his little mind put two and two together. Carefully holding out the bottle to her, he asked, “Mama, do you want some water too?”

YN paused, touched by the thoughtful gesture. The little boy was caring just like his father. Her heart swelled with pride and warmth at her son’s understanding, and she leaned down to pull his cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Alex beamed up at her, delighted by her kiss, and handed her the bottle with a shy smile. YN took a small sip, her heart feeling full in the best way possible. Moments like these, simple and unassuming, were what made her life feel so complete.

YN glanced around the kitchen, realizing she hadn’t seen Harry in a while. She turned to Alex, who was still grinning from her earlier kiss, and asked, “Where’s your daddy?”

Alex paused, looking thoughtful. “He’s giving Amelia a bath!” he replied brightly.

YN chuckled, wiping her hands on a towel. “Don’t you think he’s taking a little too long?”

Without another word, Alex took off down the hall, announcing over his shoulder, “I’m gonna check!”

YN shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued stirring the pot. But barely a minute later, she heard Alex’s laughter ring out, loud and delighted, carrying all the way back to the kitchen. Curious, she wiped her hands and followed the sound down the hallway, wondering what on earth could have him so amused.

When she reached the bathroom, she found Alex standing at the doorframe, giggling uncontrollably. YN peeked over his shoulder, and the sight before her was too good not to laugh herself.

Harry stood by the sink, almost drenched, his shirt soaked and clinging to him, while his hair, wet and messy, hung down in front of his eyes. Amelia, their 15-month-old daughter, squirmed in his arms, wrapped in a fluffy towel that he was struggling to keep around her tiny, wiggling frame. Amelia, completely entertained, let out a series of squeals and giggles, delighted by the whole chaotic scene.

Harry looked up, his eyes meeting YN’s as he tried—and failed—to blow a strand of wet hair out of his face. “She’s, uh… a slippery one,” he said with a helpless smile, shifting Amelia as she kicked her tiny feet, clearly thrilled by all the attention.

YN chuckled, stepping into the bathroom to take over. “I think you’ve gotten just as much of a bath as she has,” she teased, reaching for Amelia.

“Believe me, I know,” Harry replied, surrendering his squirming daughter into YN’s arms. As soon as she was safely in her mother’s embrace, Amelia nuzzled into YN, her little face lighting up with another round of happy giggles.

Alex, still laughing, tugged at Harry’s soaked shirt. “Daddy, you’re all wet!”

Harry ruffled Alex’s hair, a lopsided grin on his face. “Well, that’s what happens when you try to bathe a little mermaid,” he joked, winking at YN.

YN smiled, cradling Amelia close as the baby snuggled into her, finally calm. Glancing up at Harry, she added with a playful grin, “Maybe next time I’ll leave the bath duty to you again. You look like you’re having way too much fun.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Only if I get a raincoat next time.”

With everyone still giggling, the air filled with warmth and laughter. For YN, it was yet another reminder of how these simple, unplanned moments held the truest joy.

After drying Amelia’s soft curls and dressing her in an adorable denim overall dress, YN gave her a little pat, sending her off with Alex, who eagerly took her tiny hand. “Come on, Amelia! Let’s play in the backyard!” he declared, guiding her to the door as she toddled along, wide-eyed and giggling.

Meanwhile, Harry changed out of his soaked clothes and slipped into a comfortable hoodie and shorts. Feeling refreshed, he wandered back to the kitchen to find YN putting the finishing touches on lunch. She was focused, stirring one last pot, her face glowing with that contented look he loved.

“Smells amazing,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She relaxed into him, smiling as she gave the pot one final stir.

“Thank you,” she replied, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze. “I wanted everything to be perfect for your mom.”

Harry pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “It already is perfect. Besides, Mom’s really coming to see you and the kids. I’m just… here for decoration,” he joked, earning a laugh from YN.

She turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest. “Pretty good decoration, I’d say,” she teased back, her eyes sparkling. “Can’t say I mind having you around.”

He grinned, taking her hand in his. “And I can’t say I mind this whole thing… you, me, the kids, Sunday lunches. I think we’re doing alright, don’t you?”

YN’s smile softened, her heart warmed by his words. “I’d say we’re doing better than alright.”

When lunch was ready, they carried everything to the living room and settled comfortably on the sofa, filling their plates and savoring each other’s company in the cozy quiet. Berry, their loyal dog, lay stretched out on the floor nearby, watching them with sleepy eyes, as though content to be part of their little family moment. But the peace didn’t last long; as soon as Berry heard the sound of laughter from the backyard, he was on his feet and bounding toward the door, ready to join Alex and Amelia in whatever adventure they were up to.

Harry and YN shared a glance, amused, and Harry sighed with a laugh. “Should we go see what they’re getting into out there?”

YN nodded, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hand in hand, they headed toward the backyard porch deck, hearts full and laughter on their lips, ready to join in on the joy of the afternoon.

Harry and YN strolled out into the backyard, enjoying the sight of Alex and Berry playing an enthusiastic game of chase. Alex was giggling as he kicked the ball across the grass, Berry hot on his heels, barking and wagging his tail, clearly in his element.

But their attention quickly turned to little Amelia, who was standing by the swing set, her tiny fingers gripping the seat as she attempted to climb up. She’d tugged it down a few times, her determination evident in her scrunched-up face, but every time she tried to lift her legs, they just didn’t reach. She let out a tiny, frustrated squeal, her cheeks pink with effort.

Alex spotted her from across the yard and immediately abandoned his ball game, trotting over with Berry following close behind. “I’m coming, Amy! I’ll help you,” he declared, a serious expression crossing his little face. The way he spoke, it was as if he were preparing to climb a mountain, not help his baby sister onto a swing.

He placed a comforting hand on Amelia’s shoulder, patting her gently. “Don’t worry, Amy. I’ll get you up there,” he reassured her. Berry sat down nearby, tilting his head as if watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

Alex held the swing steady, lowering it slightly to make it easier for her to grab. Amelia gave it her best shot, tugging herself forward and then clinging to her brother’s back, her small legs kicking as she tried to hoist herself up. But she kept slipping back down with a tiny thud, her face scrunched in concentration.

Seeing her struggle, Alex crouched down thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one finger like he’d seen his dad do when he was deep in thought. “Okay, hm… maybe try to use my back like a lil’ stool?” he offered, glancing up at her with a hopeful smile. “I’ll be like a step!”

Amelia’s eyes lit up, and she gave him an excited nod, as if this was the most brilliant plan she’d ever heard. Alex crouched down in front of the swing, bracing himself. “Alright, Amy, climb on!” he called out, his voice full of determination.

With a delighted giggle, Amelia leaned onto her brother’s back and clutched his T-shirt with her chubby little hands. She climbed as best as she could, trying to pull herself up—but her grip on his shirt only tightened as she clambered, her arms slipping around his neck. Alex winced, his voice coming out in a slightly strained laugh. “Amy… you’re kinda… choking me,” he gasped, though he kept steady, determined to help her however he could.

Harry and YN watched from nearby, biting back their laughter as Alex tried to be the perfect big brother, his determination and care making them both melt a little inside. Berry, still sitting close by, tilted his head again, ears perked as he followed every bit of the action.

Eventually, Alex, catching his breath, stood up, looking down at his sister with a thoughtful frown. “Alright, Amy, let’s try it another way,” he said, more determined than ever to help her reach her goal.

He pointed at the swing seat with a very serious expression, bending down to her level. “Just try to sit on it. Right here,” he said, gesturing to the exact spot where she should aim. “Watch, I’ll show you.”

With exaggerated care, he climbed onto the swing himself, wiggling around on the seat to demonstrate how to sit properly. Then he hopped off and held the swing firmly in place again, giving her an encouraging nod. “Okay, now you try.”

Amelia looked at him, wide-eyed with admiration for her big brother, and then turned back to the swing. She grasped it carefully with both hands, her face full of concentration, and this time, after a few wobbly attempts, she managed to pull herself up, finally plopping down on the seat with a triumphant squeal.

Alex’s face broke into a huge grin. “You did it, Amy!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “You’re a big girl now!”

Amelia giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and Alex gave the swing a gentle push, sending her gliding back and forth, her delighted squeals filling the backyard. Each time she swung forward, she let out a little giggle, her laughter filling the air.

Harry and YN stood side by side, their arms wrapped around each other as they watched Alex carefully push Amelia on the swing. Her joyful squeals mixed with the gentle creak of the swing, and Alex’s steady encouragement filled the air. Berry trotted nearby, tail wagging, occasionally glancing up as if to make sure everything was under control.

Harry tightened his arm around YN’s shoulders, pulling her close as he shook his head in admiration. “He’s… he’s really the best big brother, isn’t he?” he said, his voice soft with awe. “Look at him—so gentle with her, so patient. I can’t believe he’s only six.”

YN beamed, her eyes fixed on their son as she watched him push Amelia with such care, his face serious with concentration, as if he were on an important mission. “I know,” she replied, her voice warm with pride. “He’s amazing with her, isn’t he? Always looking out for her, always so sweet. I feel like we’re really… doing something right.”

Harry looked down at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I think you’re doing most of it right,” he teased, bumping her shoulder with his. “I’m just here to make sure they know how to make a mess and have fun.”

YN laughed, nudging him back. “Oh, please, Harry—you’re their hero. Every time you walk in, they light up. You’re like their personal superhero.”

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know about ‘superhero,’ but… seeing them like this, watching them take care of each other? That’s everything.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked back at Alex and Amelia. “They’re so lucky to have each other. And I think… we’re pretty lucky to have them, too.”

YN nodded, her heart swelling as she took in the scene—their two little ones, working together, supporting each other in their own innocent, unfiltered way. “It’s moments like these that make it all worth it, don’t they?” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. “All the late nights, all the messy meals and chaotic mornings… all of it. Seeing them happy, and kind, and just… them.”

Harry gave her a soft smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ve got a good thing going, don’t we?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t imagine a better team than this. You and me… and these two.” He gestured toward Alex and Amelia, his eyes crinkling with pride. “We’re doing something right, YNN. I know we are.”

Just then, Alex looked over his shoulder and spotted his parents watching. His face lit up with pride, and he called out, “Look, Mum! Dad! Amy’s swinging! I got her up here all by myself!”

YN and Harry exchanged a warm glance before waving back, beaming with pride. “You’re the best big brother, Alex!” YN called out, giving him a big thumbs-up. “Amy’s so lucky to have you.”

Alex’s cheeks flushed with pride, and he turned back to Amelia, giving her swing another gentle push. “Did you hear that, Amy? Mum and Dad said I’m the best big brother ever!” he whispered to her, smiling from ear to ear.

Watching him, Harry gave YN’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re raising some pretty great kids, aren’t we?” he murmured, his eyes sparkling with pride. “If nothing else, I’d say we’re getting that part just right.”

YN looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Couldn’t agree more.”

[harrysfolklore]

30th birthday

i just can’t believe harry is 30 and this is my way to cope, i hope you like this 🥲

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The calendar marked February 1st as the date, which meant that it was finally Harry's 30th birthday.

You woke up earlier than him, in order to make him his special birthday breakfast that was a tradition by now, and as you stood alone in the cooking in the kitchen, you couldn't help but reminisce about all the previous birthdays you've celebrated with Harry.

From celebrating his birthday at a restaurant with his brand new band mates and friends after a day of The X Factor rehearsals, having big parties thrown for him with celebrities in attendance, flying off to Japan to celebrate there and throwing a concert to spend his special day with his fans, you couldn't believe Harry was turning 30 and you were able to grow up by his side.

"Love, where are you?" his raspy morning voice made its way to your ears, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Over here, in the kitchen!"

You turned around to see Harry stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing an oversized t-shirt that you recognized as one of your favorites.

"Morning, birthday boy," you greeted him, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.

"Morning," he replied, his eyes still half-closed. "What's all this?" Harry gestured towards the spread of pancakes, eggs, and bacon you had prepared on the table.

"It's your special birthday breakfast, as always," you pecked his lips again.

"You know, you could've woken me up with a 30 minute long blowj-"

"Harry!" you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "Every single year, you say the same thing! When will you stop being a menace."

"Can you blame me?" Harry shrugged, "You still look as hot as you did when we first met fourteen years ago."

"Fourteen, huh?" you said, tilting your head, "How does it feel to not be a twenty something anymore? You're basically an old man now."

"I feel good, honestly," he said sincerely, his eyes locking with yours, "I mean, I'm happy and healthy, I have the job of my dreams, a family that loves me, supporting friends and the best girlfriend in the world, I'm a very lucky old man."

"You're too cute," you kissed him again, "Now eat your breakfast, we have a lot of celebrations to do today."

The day went by smoothly, Harry answered a couple of calls and texts from friends and family and you spent the afternoon cuddling up before it was time for his birthday dinner.

Harry wanted something small and intimate, with just a handful of close friends and family invited, so you decided to host the birthday dinner at your home. As the evening approached, the house was filled with the delicious aroma of the special dinner you had prepared for him.

Jeff and Glenne were the first ones to arrive, carrying a homemade cake that Glenne insisted she had baked all morning. Sarah and Mitch came next with their baby boy who giggled and clapped as Harry made silly faces, clearly enjoying the attention from the famous Cool Harry, because he refused to be called uncle.

"Damn mate, I can't believe you're 30 now," Jeff said, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders, "I still remember when you were twenty and my parents basically adopted you, I feel so old."

"You feel old? Imagine how I feel, that's my baby brother!" Gemma chimed in, entering your house with her boyfriend Michal and Anne, "Happy birthday, H."

"Thanks, Gem," Harry smiled, hugging his sister tightly. "And thanks for reminding everyone that I'm officially old now."

As more friends and family arrived, the laughter and chatter of loved ones filled the air, the dining table was adorned with candles, flowers, and a beautifully set dinner that everyone enjoyed.

Once your bellies were full, Mitch opened the champagne bottle Harry Lambert brought with him, filling everyone's glasses to make a toast.

"Alright, everyone, gather around," Mitch announced, holding up his glass, "To Harry, on his 30th birthday, may this year be filled with even more success and love. Cheers."

Everyone clicked their glasses, smiles on everyone's faces.

"I think the missus should give a speech!" Gemma teased, pointing at you.

"Not a missus yet, still no ring," you teased back, raising an eyebrow at Harry and hearing the whistles from his friends.

"Well, uh, maybe we'll have to do something about that soon." Harry chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

The room erupted in laughter and even more whistles, and you couldn't help but blush and roll your eyes with affection.

"Alright, alright," you began, holding up your glass, "Here's to the man of the hour. Harry, you've filled my life with so much joy, laughter, and love all these years. It's been an incredible journey growing up with you, I still remember when we were just kids, celebrating your 16th birthday before you became the star that you are today, I'm so proud of you and living life by your side has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Happy 30th birthday, my love. May this year bring you everything you desire."

Harry couldn't help but melt at your words, standing up and hugging you tightly and kissing your lips.

"Thank you, everyone," Harry began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "I can't believe I'm standing here, celebrating my 30th birthday. It feels like just yesterday I was a wide-eyed 16-year-old auditioning for The X Factor, not knowing what life had in store for me," he paused, glancing at each person in the room with watery eyes, "But here I am, and I couldn't be more grateful for each and every one of you. To my family, who has been there from the start, and to my friends who have become family. And to this incredible woman right here," Harry said, placing his hand on your waist, "who has been with me since I was I was an annoying teenager, growing up by my side."

"You're still as annoying as a teenager," Jeff interrupted him, making the entire room laugh, "But we love you, mate. And we're grateful for you."

As the night continued, the homemade cake adorned with candles was brought out, and everyone in the room sag "Happy Birthday" together, Harry made a wish and blew out the candles, surrounded by the people he loved the most.

After the cake-cutting and more chatter, everyone decided to call it a night and head home, leaving you and Harry at me comfort of your house.

"Thank you for everything," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

"It's your day, love. I'm just happy I could make it special for you," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

"You always make every day special," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You stood wrapped around each other for a few minutes, enjoying the final moments of his birthday.

"This has been one of my favorite birthdays ever," Harry admitted, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I'm glad you think so," you smiled, snuggling closer. "And, by the way, the 'no ring yet' comment earlier, totally just teasing."

"Oh, really? Because I was serious, maybe it's time," Harry smirked, giving you a playful look.

"Don't tell me you're about to propose, not on your own birthday, Harry!" you said nervously.

"Not right now love, but soon enough," he winked and you let out the breath you were holding, "I love you."

"I love you more, Harry. Happy birthday."

[ahqkas]

Y’know how doe eyes are suppose to be cute and when you stare at someone with doe eyes they look so cute? But what mattheo had a partner who had those doe eyes but instead of cute aura and stare. It’s an actual unsettling stare like from an angle their stare look darken and it kinda gives Mattheo a shiver. A bad and good one

-🍕

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

MATTHEO RIDDLE WASN’T EASILY UNNERVED. he thrived in the shadows, embraced the darker side of his family name, and found a strange comfort in the eerie silence of the dungeons. yet, there was one thing that could send a shiver down his spine — a single look from his partner's doe eyes.

your eyes were large and innocent, framed by long lashes that should have given you a sweet, almost naïve appearance. at first glance, you appeared harmless, radiating a charm that many found endearing. but mattheo had come to learn that your gaze held an unsettling power, something that lingered between the realms of innocence and something far darker.

it was during one of those late-night study sessions in the slytherin common room that he first noticed it. the firelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the walls as you sat across from him, engrossed in your potions textbook. he had been watching you, a soft smile playing on his lips, when you suddenly looked up, your eyes locking with his.

for a moment, time seemed to freeze. the warmth of the room faded into the background, replaced by an inexplicable chill that ran down his spine. your eyes, wide and seemingly innocent, bore into his with an intensity that was almost predatory. it was as if you could see right through him, peeling back the layers of his soul to expose his deepest fears and desires to you.

a shiver, both good and bad, ran through him. it was a sensation he couldn't quite place — part fear, part fascination. your stare was magnetic, drawing him in even as it unsettled him. he found himself unable to look away, trapped in the depths of your gaze.

"mattheo, are you alright?" your voice broke the silence between the two of you, snapping him back to reality. the concern in your tone was genuine, yet there was a subtle undercurrent that kept him on edge.

he shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering unease. "yeah, i’m fine," he replied, his voice a bit strained. "just got lost in my thoughts for a moment."

you smiled, a small, gentle curve of your lips that did little to reassure him. "you should focus on your studies," you said softly, returning to your book.

as the weeks passed, mattheo became acutely aware of your unsettling stare. it haunted him during the day and lingered in his dreams at night. he found himself torn between the instinctual urge to flee and an irresistible pull that kept drawing him back to you.

one evening, as you both sat by the black lake, the moonlight casting a silvery glow over the water, you turned to him with those eyes again. this time, the darkness in your gaze seemed even more pronounced, sending another shiver through him. he reached out, almost without thinking, and cupped your face in his hands.

"your eyes," he whispered, his voice a mix of awe and trepidation. "they're . . . something else."

you leaned into his touch, your gaze never wavering. "do they frighten you, mattheo?" a hint of challenge was present in your voice.

the boy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your stare. "they do," he admitted quietly. “but they also draw me in. i can't explain it."

"maybe that's because you see something in them that others don't. something that mirrors a part of you."

mattheo didn't respond, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. all he knew was that despite the unsettling nature of your gaze, he couldn't stay away. it was a paradox he was willing to embrace, even if it meant confronting the darker parts of himself reflected in your doe eyes.

[0oolookitsme]

Piece of His Heart

Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n

Word Count - 1.0k

Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.

Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back. 

She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt. 

Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.

He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him. 

Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.

Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.

His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.

A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there. 

Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio. 

He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up. 

Another piece of his heart was taken then. 

He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that. 

Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.

Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth. 

"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head. 

"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle. 

Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart. 

Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together. 

Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed. 

Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.

Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more. 

He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling. 

Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.

"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe. 

And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier. 

"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin." 

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕨𝕠

cindy lou who…

ex!joe x fem!reader

summary: the boy that you love is with someone new…

warnings: none, it’s just sad. sfw, but minors please do not interact with my page.

word count: 1.2k.

note: based on the song cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter. i also drew inspo from harry styles’ cover of girl crush, and heather by conan gray.

it was christmas eve again, and you were all alone in your apartment, deciding against traveling to be with your family.

with a glass of wine in hand and your coziest robe on, you sat on the couch ready to get comfortable and watch a christmas movie. for most of the day you moped around, sad you’d be spending christmas alone… but it was up to you to change that.

you scrolled through the endless amount of movies before settling on a favorite, love actually.

you sipped at your wine as the movie began to play, trying to immerse yourself in it. you thought about getting up and making a snack, but your phone buzzed, and that took all your attention. it was a text from your sister, nothing that really required your attention, but you opened it nonetheless.

attached was a picture of herself and her boyfriend in front of a gigantic beautifully lit christmas tree. she was smiling from ear to ear, and her boyfriend was looking at her so sweetly. the message along with it read “we miss you! wish you were home!”

you love reacted the message and responded back with a simple “miss you!” but all it really did was remind you how lonely you were. you exited out of your messages and turned your attention back to the movie briefly before opening up instagram, ready to doomscroll. movies could never really keep your attention, but you needed the background noise.

when you looked back at your phone screen, the breath was almost knocked from your lungs. the first post was from your ex… you weren’t sure why you still followed him.

in the photo, joe was standing in a grandeur hallway, poised in front of a beautiful archway that was decorated with beautiful lights and red and green holly. next to him was a beautiful girl, the one who you could only assume replaced you.

she had long, silky, perfectly curled hair. her hand was on his chest, her beautifully manicured nails painted with tiny candy cane designs. her makeup was gorgeous as she smiled up at joe, the wing of her eyeliner was perfect, her lips the most beautiful glossy red you’ve ever seen.

he looked so happy as he stared into the camera, and it broke your heart for a moment knowing that you weren’t the one creating that happiness. you swiped to the next photo. it hurt even worse than the first.

in this photo, joe’s hand was pressed to the small of her back and he was pulling her into him. he smiled down at her, and you could almost feel the love and adoration beaming from his eyes onto her.

you knew how it felt. he used to look at you that way.

you wondered how they met, what she did to pull him in. you wondered what it took for her to break down that hard exterior he had, how she was able to melt him down, how she got him to smile like this... to post photos like this. you felt physically sick looking at it.

you swiped to the last photo. she stood there between joe and robin, with joe’s dad on his other side. they all looked so happy, smiling in the christmas lights. you could feel the bile rising in your throat.

there he was, the man you loved, smiling so happy and in love with someone else. you wanted to hate her, but how could you? sure, she was doing things you used to do, but it seemed like she brought the light back to joe. you hadn’t seen him that happy in a while, especially not the last few months of your relationship.

you reminisced on christmases you’d spent with him, how it used to be you taking photos with his parents. how it was you who woke up with him in his old bed, underneath his star wars themed sheets and bedspread.

how you’d help his mom cook breakfast, you’d spend time with his brothers’ families, you’d open gifts with him. you giggled at how you’d sneak upstairs late after everyone was asleep to have a christmas treat, trying not to laugh too loud and wake everyone up.

you tried not to throw up as you imagined them kissing under the mistletoe that’d be hung above the hearth, just like you used to. you thought about how beautiful a ring would look on her finger, about how elated joe would be to give it to her.

you remembered everything you felt for him, when he won the natty, the heisman, when he was drafted.. you were there, you were in love, but the fire began to die. joe was becoming more and more unhappy, and you had to let each other go. and now, as you sat lonely, without even your family, here was joe. happy and in love with a beautiful girl, someone who wasn’t you.

you wondered if it was snowing in ohio, you were almost sure of it. would he take her outside and spin her around in the snow, just like he did with you?

it stung, but all you could do was force yourself to be glad for him. he deserved love, you knew that. you wanted that for him, even if it was with someone else. you wondered everything about her. what did she smell like? was her skin soft? what does her voice sound like?

she was everything for joe that you couldn’t be, but that was okay. you had to be okay with it. you noticed joe tagged her in the photo, but you wouldn’t bother scrolling her page, or if it was private, you wouldn’t send her a request. her life with joe was none of your business, even if it hurt.

you didn’t know if it’d be messy, but against your better judgment, you liked joe’s post. you were going to be happy for him, no matter what. you locked your phone, placing it face down on the couch as you stood to go make yourself some popcorn.

once you returned, you focused your attention back to the movie which left you bawling by the end. you finished your wine as well, and you gathered your dishes to take them to the sink before pulling the curtains closed. you stopped for a moment to admire all the lights outside before you had them fully closed.

you picked up your phone as you got ready to head to bed, your heart sinking as you noticed an instagram notification on your lockscreen. when you opened it, your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth, your legs feeling shaky, almost like jello.

joeyb_9: merry christmas, y/n.

that was all it read, but it nearly ripped your heart from your chest. what made him message you, you weren’t sure. you started to sob, the cries wracking through your body. it took everything in you to respond, but you did, you had to tell him one last thing.

y/n: merry christmas, joe. i’m so happy for you.

and with that you were off to bed, dreaming of joe and his cindy lou who… the girl who wasn’t you.

all photos and dividers used are not mine. credit to original owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow

[fxstpace]

only angel

summary: on paper, you and gojo satoru are the perfect rivals, heirs to competing companies, each primed to outshine the other. what a pity you can’t seem to get enough of each other behind closed doors.

⇢ pairing: rich kid!gojo satoru x rich kid!fem!reader ⇢ genres: smut, fluff, fake rivals to ???, friends with benefits au, secret relationship au, rich kid au ⇢ word count: 4.7k ⇢ warnings: semi-public sex, wall sex, fingering, oral sex, protected sex, overstimulation, dirty talk (?), exhibitionism, nudity, they love each other but are in denial, he calls mc his angel, profanity, alcohol consumption ⇢ a/n: lowkey inspired by only angel (harry styles). reuploaded because i accidentally deleted it :,)

“I’m just saying, if we want to see other people, we should.”

You roll your eyes. From your position on the bed—curled-up, facing Satoru—he looks sleep-drunk and honey-sweet. You can’t really say that to him without sounding like a sap, so you kiss the corner of his mouth instead. He hums, low and satisfied.

“What was that for?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“So that every time you see another girl, you remember that my kisses are way better.” You let a slow smile spread across your face.

“That’s�� possessive,” Satoru says, sounding mildly impressed. “And kind of toxic.”

He leans forward this time, brushing his lips against yours. Strictly speaking, you and Satoru have no reason to be so tender with each other. Intimacy is a rarity you can’t afford.

“Are you interested in seeing someone else?” you ask, when he pulls away.

A laugh ripples through his chest, and you grin impishly up at him. “Seeing people, yeah. Fucking them, no,” he says.

“I won’t stop you even if you do fuck other people.”

“How considerate.”  His smile is teasing, but you’re not joking. 

Your relationship with Gojo Satoru would cause a scandal unlike any other if word got out—and rightfully so. Your family has always been at constant odds with the Gojos, continuously trying to one up each other. As some of the biggest business conglomerates in the country, competition between the two companies was inevitable, but you certainly didn’t expect it to attain the level of aggression it has reached now. You and Satoru often joke that you’re like Romeo and Juliet, minus the idiocy of ingesting poison and the whole falling in love part. 

While the rest of your family and business associates do their best to eliminate their rivals once and for all, somehow you and Satoru didn’t get the memo.

Secrecy is a must in your situation. Only a select few people are aware of the illicit nature of the relationship between Limitless Industries’ doted-upon child and Gojo Holdings’ golden boy. Even then, you’re careful, hiding your comings and goings from your parents and superiors. You usually make up some excuse—you were out with your friends, you went on an impromptu day trip—something to make them stop sniffing your trail. 

By all logic, you and Satoru should hate each other as well. But he’s a charming guy, objectively attractive, and more than that, he’s fantastic in bed. One formal event and too many glasses of champagne later, you found yourselves scurrying off to a deserted room, as though you were teenagers trying to sneak out during a school trip. It’s been a few months since then, but this arrangement has lasted.

So, logically speaking, all this small talk and commitment is utterly unnecessary. You’re not searching for any new guys to fuck, but if Satoru wants to fuck other people… Well. That’s his choice.

“You see people every day,” you remind him.

“Your point is?”

You move closer to him, throwing a leg over one of his. His cock twitches. You grin and reach down, splaying your fingers over his bare abdomen. He hisses at the contact, quickly tugging the blanket off. 

“My point is,” you whisper, rubbing your thumb against the soft patch of hair that’s right above his groin, “I’ll see you tonight at the launch event, Mr. Gojo. Do try not to get your dick wet until then.”

“You’re evil, you know that?” Satoru whines, fingers curling into his palm.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, fishing underneath the covers for your bra and panties. The lacy lingerie secured a few attempts later, you stand up and stretch your arms lazily. The horizon is tinged light pink; the glass door that leads to the balcony reflects the sun’s earliest rays. The city is just barely awake. Five o’clock in the morning on a Saturday lies somewhere on the threshold between dawn and night, and it’s a good thing no one you’ve come to the convention with will be awake now, after all the drinks they’ve had the night before. 

“One of my better charms,” you reply flippantly to Satoru’s previous comment. 

You fasten your bra and quickly pull up your underwear. Bending down to pick up your discarded clothes—a formal skirt and blouse—you know Gojo Satoru is already staring blatantly at your ass. 

Sure enough, when you turn around, you find him watching you dress with his mouth hung open and a dazed look in his eyes. This might be your favourite part of your excursions, you think: Driving Gojo Satoru mad. You once asked him why he liked seeing you dress up again so much, and he cheekily said that he loved imagining undressing you all over again. It had made heat flush your cheeks, and he had laughed at seeing you so flustered.

Now, it gives you a weird sense of delight, because more often than not, you leave Satoru with a hard-on and a curt order to not touch himself. Whether he actually complies or not, you don’t know, but you’re satisfied anyway.

“You should sleep in for a bit,” you tell him, once you’re fully-dressed. You run a hand through your unruly hair in an attempt to detangle it. 

In the light of the day, Satoru’s hotel room is a lot more… fuller. In the dark, all you did was grope about, pray you didn’t stub your toe on something and clutch the back of Satoru’s shirt like it was a lifeline while he fumbled to find the lamp on the bedside table. With crumpled sheets, a half-opened suitcase by the plush armchair, and an empty mug of instant coffee on the table in front of it, it looks lived-in—a weird contrast to yours. You prefer keeping your hotel room pristine because you feel strangely guilty giving the hotel staff more work to do.

Satoru yawns. “So should you. The conference isn’t until seven in the evening, no one’s going to be awake.”

“I… need to prepare for my speech,” you say. It’s a lie—you’ve practised your speech so many times, you know it verbatim now—but you’re absolutely paranoid at the thought of someone accidentally finding you and Satoru together.

And then you’d be forced to stay away from him, and what good would that do? It would cause more misery than you want it to.

“Oh.” Satoru perks up. “You’re presenting today? Good luck.”

“Thanks, Satoru.” You smile. “I’ll see you in the evening.”

“Yeah, alright.”

You clutch your shoes in your hand—it’s too early to prance about in high heels—and twist the knob on the door. Satoru, ever the suave gentleman, winks at you raunchily before you roll your eyes and shut the door behind you. 

The carpeted hallway is soft against your bare feet. You can hear the distant whirring of one of those big carpet-cleaning machines further away. You quicken your pace; your room is one floor below Satoru’s and you can’t risk getting caught, even by the hotel staff, so close to the Gojo heir’s room. The lights cast a soft glow throughout the gilded walls, making the abstract art paintings pinned up shimmer. A vase with dried-up roses sits prettily on a marble-topped table as you round the corner towards the staircase.

You quickly descend the steps two at a time, nearly running straight into a waiter holding a tray with a pot of coffee aloft. You give him an apologetic smile and a shrug when he glances at your haphazard state, as though to say Well, what can you do? and head on over to your room. Thankfully, you don’t run into anyone else along the way.

You swipe your keycard against the lock and push your door open. Dropping the heels on the floor, you let out a relieved sigh. First things first: you’re going to brush your teeth and take a nice, long shower. You think about the dress you’ve planned to wear for the evening and smile.

Gojo Satoru is going to love it.

Your speech was a resounding success. 

Despite being one of the few women speakers invited to the conference, you refused to hang your head low. Yes, you might have gotten to the position you’re at only because of your parents, but that doesn’t mean you’re not good at your job. You delivered every line perfectly.

You deserve a reward.

The grand ballroom shimmers under the glow of crystal chandeliers, the soft hum of conversation interspersed with the gentle clink of champagne glasses. You glide through the sea of tailored suits and designer dresses, exchanging pleasantries with industry leaders and dignitaries. You’re here as a representative of Limitless Industries—and, by extension, your mother and father. Connections are vital, and you can’t be caught slacking.

Your gown, sleek and fitted, feels like a second skin, catching the light just right as you move—enough to draw eyes, enough to give off an air of importance. Your makeup is light, only accentuating your best features. You’re the talented daughter of one of the country’s richest CEOs; your image should come off as authentic and empathetic.

But there’s only one gaze you can feel lingering on you from the moment you stepped off the stage, and it’s Satoru’s.

You pause, taking a sip of your almost-finished drink. Your conversation with Nanami Kento—a famous businessman—about philanthropic organisations is intriguing, and it��s a good chance to network and earn some favour. But even though Nanami is smart and intelligent, and extremely good-looking (he looks like a Greek statue carved by the Gods; you’re slightly envious of his jawline), you can’t stop yourself from trying to catch Satoru’s gaze. You wore this dress for him, after all.

He meets your eyes from where he stands, leaning against the bar, looking effortlessly elegant in his tailored suit. His hair is combed back, a few strands falling across his forehead, and he sips from a glass of some dark liquid, raising it slightly like it’s a toast. A small, knowing smile tugs at his lips, before it’s quickly replaced by the polite, blank expression both of you have perfected over the years—though his blue eyes twinkle just the same. It sends a wave of warmth straight to your chest and down your navel.

Swallowing down the last of your champagne, you place it on a nearby table and excuse yourself. You can’t linger in his stare for too long; that would only be giving yourself away. Satoru tilts his head, and you know what he wants. 

You make your way to a quieter, less crowded part of the ballroom, near one of the staff rooms. Just as you prepare to slip out through one of the side doors, a hand grabs your wrist, and you’re yanked into the quiet, dimly lit space. The door clicks shut behind you. Satoru’s body is pressed flush against yours. 

“Did you wear that just to drive me insane?” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your ear.

You can’t help the smirk that tugs at your lips—you knew he would love this colour on you—but your words falter when his hand slides over the curve of your waist, fingers teasing the slit of your dress. 

“You’re not the only one in the room,” you manage to say. “Maybe I dressed up for the crowd. There are tons of eligible bachelors out there.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Nanami Kento,” you say, startled by your own boldness.

Satoru’s eyes widen with momentary surprise. “Is he why you brought up the idea of seeing other people this morning?”

“God, no.” You swallow. “Not at all.”

His lips ghost over your neck, the slightest hint of a chuckle escaping him. “You love getting fucked by me,” he whispers, his hand traveling further down, gripping your thigh, pulling your leg to the side as he presses himself against you. “You just like to make me remind you.”

Your breath hitches when he yanks your leg up around his waist, the fabric of your gown slipping higher, exposing more skin to his wandering touch. You place your hands on his shoulders for balance.

“You were amazing, you know,” he continues, lips a hair’s breadth away from yours. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you. My gorgeous angel.”

“What do I get for it?” you whisper back.

“Oh? So greedy,” he says, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh. “I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry.”

Satoru’s promise makes heat pool in your stomach, and you crash your lips with his. His tongue slips through your parted mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, messing up his careful hairstyle. He groans into your mouth, pulling you closer until your chests touch.

His hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of your hips, slipping beneath your dress, fingers finding your panties and tugging them aside like they’re in the way. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, voice tight as he slides a finger through your slickness. “All this just from me watching you?”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself from making a sound when he slips a finger inside you. The stretch is familiar, yet it never fails to send a ripple of pleasure straight through you. Your knees almost buckle. He smiles, adding a second finger. His pace is slow, teasing, building the heat between your thighs until you’re struggling to keep quiet.

“Satoru,” you gasp out, barely able to catch your breath. His thumb brushes your clit, sending sparks shooting up your body. You know you should stop this, that anyone could walk in at any time, but the way he’s touching you, the way his fingers curl inside you—it makes coherent thought impossible.

He presses you harder against the wall, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your throat, sucking just lightly enough that he doesn’t leave marks. His other hand snakes along your waist, holding you steady while his fingers work you closer and closer to the edge, the rhythm of his thumb on your clit driving you wild.

“I think we’ve got… thirty minutes before people notice we’re missing,” your rival breathes out. “Think I can make you cum in five?”

You let out a strangled gasp, your body trembling as he quickens the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper, harder. The coil in your belly tightens with each stroke, every flick of his thumb over your clit; you can’t hold back the soft moans that escape your lips.

Satoru grins, clearly enjoying the way you fall apart in his hands. “That’s it. Don’t hold back.”

His words, the heat of his breath against your ear, send you spiralling. You grip the front of his suit jacket, your legs shaking as the pleasure builds, higher and higher, until it’s too much. Your hips buck against his hand, chasing that final push as his thumb presses harder against your clit.

Your orgasm rips through you, a wave of white-hot pleasure that makes your vision blur. Your thighs shake as you cum around his fingers. You bite down on your lip to keep from crying out loud, but a small whimper still slips through. He continues to pump his fingers, prolonging your release.

When it finally subsides, Satoru pulls his hand away, fingers glistening with your arousal. He watches you for a moment, a satisfied look on his face. You try to catch your breath, leaning heavily against the wall for support.

“God, you look so good when you cum for me.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, almost tender.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, he shushes you and brings his fingers—still wet with your slick—up to your lips.

“Suck.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, but you do as he says, wrapping your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as he watches silently. His thumb brushes your lower lip as you release him, his gaze not leaving yours.

“My turn. I want to eat you out.” Satoru’s grin is mischievous, but evil is how you would describe it.

“F-fuck, no, Satoru, I— I can’t—” 

Your protests fall on deaf ears. Satoru drops to his knees, uncaring of the fact that the linoleum floor beneath him is probably dirty enough to soil his expensive trousers. 

“Satoru, wait, let me just—” You kick off your heels. The floor is cool underneath your bare feet and it feels better now that you no longer have to worry about accidentally twisting your ankle because you couldn’t hold yourself up.

“Hold your dress up for me, angel.”

You comply, bunching up your dress in your arms and holding it above your waist. The fabric wrinkles under your fingertips. You want to say something snarky back to him—but the only thing that escapes your mouth is a small squeak when Satoru cups your ass with a hand, pulling you closer to his face. He licks his way up your thighs, only stopping when you whine.

“Shhh, angel. You’re going to draw someone’s attention if you keep making those pretty noises.”

You nod but whimper softly, because if Gojo Satoru angled his head just a little bit, his breath would be ghosting right against your centre, the only barricade being the soft cotton of your panties. He rests a finger against the front of your underwear, his touch light. When he sees the way you bite your lip to hide your moans, he presses more firmly, rubbing against your pussy.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, attempting to fuck yourself on his finger. He looks up at you with a wondrous expression, watching you swivel your hips, trying to get yourself off. Finally, having had enough, Satoru hooks his fingers through the waistband and roughly pulls it down. 

If you weren’t so high off his touches, perhaps you’d have been embarrassed at the arousal that glistens over your pussy and inner thighs even though you just orgasmed. As such, you do not give a fuck—especially not when you hear Satoru’s sharp intake of breath at the sight. He licks your clit slowly, once, twice, thrice, and then grabs your ass and pulls you closer. You free one hand and hold onto strands of his hair to steady yourself. Satoru’s mouth attaches to your clit, slurping and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The moan that bubbles out of your throat draws a satisfied hum from the man eating out your cunt.

He slides a finger inside your clenching hole, slick with arousal, swirling his tongue around your clit. Your mind feels blank, lost to the pleasure that Gojo Satoru readily gives you. You let out a slew of curses, until finally, you nearly cry out, “Satoru—oh—I think I’m going to cum—”

Your rival completely disregards your comment, instead adding another finger and pumping them both in and out. His mouth still works your clit diligently. It’s not long before you close your eyes and see stars on the inside of your eyelids. Your chest heaves as your orgasm washes over you. You come undone on Satoru’s face and fingers, shuddering and gasping out profanities.

“Good job,” he praises. You open your eyes and find him still kneeling on the floor. The bulge against the front of his jeans is prominent and for a brief moment, you feel a bit guilty for not giving him the same pleasure he gave you. He glances at his slick-coated fingers, and once you meet his gaze, he pops them into his mouth and licks every bit of your juices off of them. 

“What about you?” you breathe out.

“What about me?”

“You’re hard,” you point out, as if you’re not stating the obvious. 

Satoru arches an eyebrow and stands up. “Very astute observation.”

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t even know why I bother, honestly—”

Satoru grins and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Are you offering to suck me off?”

“No fucking way.” You scowl. “I spent hours on my makeup.”

“Hm. Not that that did any good—”

Your scowl turns fiercer.

“—I mean, you still look beautiful, even though you’re all sweaty. I was just teasing,” he amends. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just go back to my hotel room all by myself and jerk myself off all by myself. Or I could fuck you against the wall.”

Your eyes widen. Satoru—ever the cunning one—notices.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he drawls, unzipping his trousers. His bulge is more prominent, now, with only one layer of fabric covering it. “You get off on that, hm? You like being pressed against the wall, so close to everyone outside? Anyone could hear the sounds you make with that pretty little mouth of yours, and then everyone will want to know who’s coaxing them out of you. You like the sound of that?”

His words, crass and filthy by all means, make you shiver. Satoru knows you better than most people. He has mapped out all the places that make you moan, how to bring you to your high as quickly as possible—but he also knows how to make you laugh and smile, and what type of dessert is your favourite, and about the time you cannonballed off the diving board and broke your arm because you didn’t land inside the swimming pool correctly.

Gojo Satoru knows you, and it is this fact, more than anything else, that makes you trust him.

“Once more for me, angel. Can you do that?” he asks, pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock.

You nod dumbly, mouth watering at the sight of him—white strands messed up by your fingers, dick hanging out of his pants and curving upwards, the formal button down with the sleeves rolled up and the collar askew, and the lipstick stain on his cheek. He is a vision, and he is all yours.

Satoru smirks, like he knows the effect he has on you. You really should get him back for that, you think.

“Turn around for me,” he coos.

You do as he says, dress still bunched up in one hand. Satoru presses into you from behind, the curve of his dick against your ass, and curls an arm around your chest, cupping one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple lightly through the satin-like fabric of your dress; you gasp.

You turn your head, trying to catch a glimpse of your lover. He stares back at you, mouth pressed into a thin line like he can barely restrain himself, eyes darkened with lust. He pumps his cock a few times, spreading his pre-cum over the length.

“Satoru,” you whisper, pleading.

Satoru kisses you at the same time he enters you, swallowing your moan with his mouth and running his tongue along yours. He still tastes a bit like you, and it’s enough to make you shudder coupled with the feeling of him filling you up.

“Fuck, angel,” he murmurs against your lips. “So perfect for me. Gonna fill you up so well, yeah?”

You can only groan in reply, your free hand coming around to clutch his. His grip is tight and warm, and he squeezes your hand when he pulls out and thrusts back in. You let your head drop back and lean on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut and pants escaping your throats.

“So pretty, so beautiful, so perfect,” Satoru mutters, swivelling his hips and thrusting faster into you. He moans, the feeling of your walls clenching around him nearly driving him over the edge. He mouths kisses at your neck, your jaw—no longer careful to not leave marks. He doesn���t care anymore. Some twisted part of him gets off on showing the world that he’s fucked you—his rival since both of you were declared the inheritors of you respective companies—so well. Others would kill to be in your place, or in his, but you only want him and he only wants you.

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp out. His dick drags against your walls, and one particularly rough thrust makes the tip of his cock find that one spot that makes your toes curl with pleasure. You nearly keen at the sensation.

“Cum for me, angel,” he mumbles. “Doing so well for me. You deserve it. You’re on the pill, yeah?”

“Yes,” you moan, leaning your forehead against the rough surface of the wall and squeezing your eyes shut. You squeeze Satoru’s hand once more, the only sounds being the slap of skin against skin and the breathless noises that escape both your lips. Your thighs tremble and you feel stars burst against your eyelids as Satoru brings you to an orgasm for the third time that night.

He rides you through it, continuing to pump his cock in and out of you, though his thrusts have turned sloppy. With a string of curse words mumbled under his breath, Satoru finally cums inside you. You groan at the feeling. He stays there, quiet, simply holding you while both of you catch your breath. 

Satoru slips his softening cock out of you and tucks it back into his pants. You turn around, wrinkle your nose, and bend down to pull your panties back up. You’re sweaty and you feel sticky all over, and you can barely stand without leaning on Satoru for support.

There’s no way you can go back to the convention in this state.

He wipes the sweat off your forehead with the back of his hand. You smooth out your dress and adjust your hair, trying to look presentable. He takes a step back, eyes sweeping over you one last time.

“You have lipstick on your cheek,” you inform him. He brings a palm up to his face and rubs at his cheek.

“Here, wear this,” Satoru tells you. He picks up his blazer from where it was thrown on the floor—you hadn’t even realised it was there. Mumbling your thanks, you drape it over your shoulders. 

“Come on. I’ll take you back to your room,” he says. “We can shower together.”

“God, no, Satoru. Knowing you, you’ll probably have me against the bathroom wall again.”

“What do you take me for? A hormonal teenager who just discovered Wi-Fi and incognito mode?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so that isn’t offensive at all,” Satoru whines. “Please? I’ll even shampoo your hair for you and I promise not a single thought about sex will enter my mind.”

“That’s practically impossible for you,” you mutter. Still, the thought is enticing. You could really use a warm bath right now, and if Satoru is offering to wash your hair for you—well, it’s one less thing for you to worry about given how tired you are. “But fine. We’ll have to be careful so that no one sees us together, though.”

Satoru grins. “Of course. I think everyone is out there getting drunk. We’ll be fine.”

He picks up your heels for you, and, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, twists the door knob.

(You frown and shove your phone into Satoru’s face. The screen is open to an article, which reads:

Has The Notorious Bachelor Of Gojo Holdings Finally Settled Down? Gojo Satoru Photographed Leaving Hotel Room With Mysterious Girl.

Underneath it is a grainy photo of him, his white hair sticking out like a sore thumb, with his hand around your shoulders and your heels in his hand. Thankfully, your face is blurred enough that no one knows it’s you, but still.

“Speculations about who the mysterious girl is rise as the Internet goes into a meltdown,” Satoru reads, trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. “Gojo Satoru, considered one of the most eligible and successful bachelors around, has never once been caught or embroiled in any love affair. The most popular suspicion is that the woman in question is a secret spy, sent to seduce him and steal his extensive collection of designer sunglasses,” he continues, pausing to dramatically adjust one of the said pairs of sunglasses perched on his nose.

“I’m going to kill you,” you mutter, raising a hand to shove his shoulder.

Satoru laughs and catches your hand, using it as leverage to pull your body closer to his. “You won’t. You’re the only angel I know—you’re too nice to do that.”

“Try me,” you say, but you tilt your head up and capture his lips in a kiss instead.)

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra VII

Read Neighbors here | ~1.8k words

From me: surprise! This has been in my drafts since I finished the original storyline

Warnings: none

Summary: It's the first s'mores fire of the summer. She and Harry are in love with their little life. And Rory hates lying.

“Hey lad,” Harry said. They were sitting on the couch watching the latest Disney movie that Rory had been asking to watch. Harry paused it and Rory looked at Harry curiously. He wondered if he forgot to put his shoes away or a different chore that Mumma asked before she left to see his Auntie. “D’you remember when y’went to the hospital cause y’were sick... and we ate pancakes the next morning?”

“I remember. Mumma made chocolate milk,” he nodded.

“Right,” Harry chuckled. The real highlight of that morning it seemed. “Do y’remember me asking if I could date, Mummy?”

He thought for a moment and nodded. For Rory, that was a weird question when it was asked. But he didn’t think too much of it in itself because he was little. Also, Harry was his best friend, so he didn’t really mind because it just meant he got to play with Harry more often. “Yeah, I remember.”

Harry smiled, took a deep breath. “Do y’think you’d be okay with me marrying Mummy?”

“What’s that? Like have Christmas with Mumma?” his little brow puckered together. “We already do that Harry, silly.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. Rory was the cutest thing in the entire world. “That’s merry with an e, lad. I said marry with an a. D’you know what marry means?”

He shook his head. “I hearded it once in a movie.”

Harry smiled and looked at his hands a moment before he looked up at the now six-year-old. “I ask Mummy if she wants t’marry me and if she says yes, I have t’give Mummy a ring t’put on her finger. And then we would have a big party.”

“I like parties,” Rory smiled impishly nodding his head.

Harry laughed quietly again and nodded. “Me too. All of our friends and family would come and... well I’d be Mummy’s husband and she’d be my wife.”

Rory knew those words from kindergarten. His teacher had a husband. “Wouldn’t you be my dad, then?”

Swallowing nervously, Harry nodded. He was wondering if Rory would think about that. “Well, yeah, kind of.”

“I thought you already were,” Rory shrugged casually.

Harry chuckled. He could have cried if he wasn’t trying so hard to keep it together. “Well thanks, lad. I kind of think so too. This would make it a bit more real.”

“Would you and Mumma have another baby?”

“Maybe,” Harry smiled. He certainly hoped so.

“I think Mumma would like a girl,” he told Harry. “So then she would have someone to play with like I play with you.”

Harry smiled. “So I can marry her?”

“Does this mean you have to kiss more?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Probably.”

“I still don’t like kissing,” he grumbled.

“I know, lad. We won’t kiss that much in front of you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “You can marry her. Can we finish the movie?”

Harry pulled Rory into his arms and gave him a huge hug and kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Rory,” Harry said knowingly.

“I love you too, Harry,” he giggled.

*

“Mumma, do we have s’mores stuff?” Rory asked.

“Hmm... let me go look,” she said. “I’ll get some drinks, too. Do you want anything in particular, baby?” She asked looking at Harry.

Harry’s heart warmed at her kindness as always. “M’fine, kitten, thank you.”

“Careful around the fire, boys,” she said as she headed back for the house to look for supplies and drinks. Rory was sitting patiently by the fire while Harry kept an eye on him and the flames. Glancing toward the gate leading out toward the front he saw a single hand wave over top and then a thumbs up.

“Hey lad, d’you remember our conversation from a couple weeks ago? When I asked you if I could marry Mummy?”

He nodded watching the flames. “We’ll have a party, right?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes,” he nodded. “Would y’want t’help me ask Mummy?” He wondered.

He shrugged. “Sure!” He wasn’t doing anything at the moment. Mumma and Harry always said he was a really good helper too.

“Good,” Harry grinned. “M’gonna ask her when she comes back out. D’you think y’can give her this?” He asked, handing him a card from the back of his chair’s pocket compartment. He nodded. “Tell her y’made it at school and y’want to give it to her now,” he winked.

“That’s lying, Harry,” Rory pouted and shook his head. “Mumma doesn’t like lying.”

Shoot. Harry forgot that Rory was the sweetest little boy in the world. “You’re right. S’a little fib, I promise she’ll forgive you. This is the one time.” He wrinkled his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. Rory really wanted to help Harry. But he did not like the idea of lying to Mumma. She would get really mad. “I promise this one is okay,” Harry said again.

Rory sighed and nodded. “Okay... just this once though.”

Harry nodded and crossed over his heart. “Just this once.”

“Alright boys,” she said returning with her arms full, silencing Harry’s prep work. “I have the goods. Are we ready for the first s’mores fire of the summer?” She said wrinkling her nose so cutely as she settled the stuff on the nearby patio table. Harry glanced at the gate once more and then back to her.

“Here, love,” Harry said moving to her side and pressing a hand on her lower back. “Let me,” he smiled. “You sit,” he said pressing a kiss on the side of her head so gently she wondered what that was all about. It was just s’mores. And she liked s’mores. She was good at making them and didn’t mind in the slightest. But it was nice as always for Harry to just do things for her after so many years of having to do everything on her own. Even when he did little things like scooping Rory up from his car seat or carrying the groceries in, it just made everything so much easier for her.

She thought about the month and a half she tried avoiding Harry. It was by far the stupidest thing she had ever done, and she wondered often what would have happened if she never got over her silly fears. But fortunately, she didn’t have to worry long, because Harry was right there, making s’mores for her and Rory like he always did.

“Mumma, I made this in school,” Rory said suddenly pulling her from her thoughts. Rory looked at Harry impishly as he handed the envelope to his mum. Good thing this would be the only lie. He was a little worse for wear on the delivery.

“For me?” She smiled curiously and took the envelope in her fingers. She slid open the top.

“Uh-huh,” Rory giggled sheepishly.

Harry glanced at the gate again and then held his breath as she pulled the card from the envelope. “What’s it say, Mumma?” Rory giggled and if she hadn’t already been reading the words on the card, she would have realized Rory had no part in this little scheme.

She turned suddenly after her eyes scanned the card once and she looked at Harry with wild eyes. “Harry?” She asked nervously.

“Harry said I could lie,” Rory said quickly seeing her discomfort and was worried he would get in trouble. He didn’t like it when Mumma was mad at him. Mumma was the best and didn’t ask Rory to do anything except to not lie. “Just this once,” he promised.

“That’s okay, love bug,” she said softly barely looking at him as she did. Relieved that he wasn’t going to upset Mumma, Rory sat back in his chair and waited for Harry to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

For once, she ignored Rory. Her eyes stayed on Harry as she felt her heart nearly beat out of her ribs. “What does it say, beautiful?” Harry smiled. His eyes were so gentle.

“It says ‘Life is s’more fun with you, will you spend the rest of it with me?’” She read carefully.

Harry bit his lip. “It is s’more fun with you,” he repeated, and he moved in front of her chair and knelt between the fire and her. “Will you marry me?” It was amazing Harry could be so hopelessly in love with her and have her still be so surprised that she was deserving of love that was so all encompassing, Harry sometimes wondered how he could stay upright.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly and her eyes darted to Rory so briefly, but Harry still caught it.

Harry chuckled. “Yes, really, you silly, sweet thing,” he rolled his eyes. “M’horribly in love with you and would like t’spend the rest of our lives together,” he repeated. “Please marry me?” He repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, just say yes!” Her sister’s voice distinctly called from the front gate.

“You brought my sister here?” She asked with a teary giggle.

“Auntie?!” Rory shouted and ran for the gate.

“Um... I brought everyone... I really anticipated you saying ‘yes’ a lot quicker than this,” he chuckled awkwardly. Rory opened the gate, and the entourage of people Harry invited came through the gate. Her eyes lifted to look at them so briefly she barely saw who was in attendance. Her eyes returned to Harry knelt before her waiting expectantly for her answer. “I’ll beg if you want,” he said softly with a grin.

“Mumma, look! Grandma’s here!”

She smiled and waved to her mom standing beside Anne and Gemma who were watching with such happy smiles. “You really want to marry me?” She asked softly. As if no one was in the backyard except her and Harry.

“Very badly,” he nodded, and he pulled the box from his pocket. “Maybe this will help,” he smiled gently. The diamond glittered in the sun so beautifully. Harry was wonderful. He always was and this was no exception. But she closed the box quickly as she answered.

“I’d marry you without it,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shook his head at her. “So that’s a yes?” Harry had never felt so happy. He didn’t think she would say no, but he knew she could convince herself she didn’t deserve happiness if he gave her enough time.

“God, yes,” she nodded and giggled excitedly. She leaned forward as Harry moved toward her as well and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

“You said no kissing!” Rory called.

She laughed against his lips, ignoring her son’s protest and continued kissing Harry. “I’ll love you forever,” she promised.

Harry grinned, nodded, and kissed her again as he mumbled against her lips. “And then some.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @boopookie @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

neighbors taglist: @mopeymousey @vmpellie

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[w2soneshots]

Announcement -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: pregnancy.

summary: you and Harry announce your exiting news to the sidemen in an interesting way.

notes: hello my babies! I haven’t done a dad!bog fic in forever and this brought back all my baby fever🥹. Here’s the request. Enjoy!!🧸💓🫶🏼

Today me and Harry are announcing our pregnancy to the boys. We've been keeping it our little secret for just over four months and it has been difficult but we've loved it. I'm not an official member of the sidemen but I'm always in their videos so morning sickness and the crazy hormones have been hard to hide, along with the fact I now have a bump. I haven't worn anything tight fitting in weeks. We wanted to do something funny and casual with the boys so when we found out that they were filming a photo roulette for more sidemen we knew that was our chance.

"You nervous?" I asked Harry as we drove. "Not really, I'm just excited to finally tell everyone." He replied with a smile. We told our families a few days ago and they were all ecstatic. "I feel the same. Also we're gonna need to tell Faith ASAP because we both know Ethan can't keep any secrets from her." Harry chuckled, knowing I was definitely right.

When we arrived outside of the building and Harry parked we made our way upstairs. "Hey! Feeling better?" Tobi asked as we walked into the studio. Last week I had to leave a side plus shoot early because I started to feel nauseous. The boys were concerned but Harry reassured them that I was fine, since he knew that it was just because I'm pregnant. "Yeah." I smiled with a light nod of my head.

Once we sat down to film we began with a few other videos then finally after around two hours it was time. "Hello and welcome to 'sidemen photo roulette', with y/n!" Simon announced to the camera. "Everyone has sent in a random amount of pictures from their camera rolls and you'll all have to guess who sent it in." He explained. Simon was going to be able to see the pictures so I was just hoping he would stay silent.

We got started and we saw some really funny and random photos. As the game went on my hands were fidgeting as I anticipated what was going to happen. "Ok and the final pic." The picture me and Harry had taken of our dog with the baby's first ultrasound in his mouth popped up on the tv. The room went silent. "Is that? Oh my god!" Ethan jumped from his seat, looking straight at me and Harry. Everyone quickly began to catch on and cheers filled the room.

Once everyone said congratulations we sat back down. "How many months are you?" JJ asked. "Five." I replied. "Twenty weeks?!" Vik exclaimed. Harry chuckled. "Uh yeah. We kept putting off telling everyone. Before last week only me and y/n knew." He explained. "So you-" Ethan pointed down to my stomach, which was covered by one of Harry's oversized hoodies. I nodded then slowly lifted it over my bump. All six of their eyes flickered from my stomach, to me and then to Harry. "So the other week you-" Tobi began. "I smelt something weird and it made me feel nauseous." I laughed.

Later that night I sat between Harry's legs, my back leaning on his chest. He ran his fingers over my bump as we sat in a comfortable silence. "I think they were a bit shocked that we waited so long to tell everyone." I whispered. Harry smiled, even though I couldn't see him. "I like that we kept it a secret. But it feels good to be able to talk to people about it, since it's like the biggest and best thing that's ever happened to me." He replied quietly. I hummed as my hands traveled to land on top of his. "Want me to run you a warm bath?" He asked. "Only if you join me." I smiled. "I was already planning on it."

[immobulusmalfoy]

From Molly, With Love // George Weasley x F!Reader

Summary: Molly picks her family, no matter who they are, through the sweaters she makes. She's already picked George's SO, you! Warnings: Incredible amounts of fluff, like tooth-rotting. And Percy. A/N: Not sure why it's Christmas all the time in my fics. Just go with it. __________________________________________

Christmas morning was always a conundrum. Especially with the twins involved. I’d planned to sleep without setting an alarm, but I hadn’t expressed that to my two best friends and that had been my big mistake.

“Wake up, sleepy head!” they chorused, jumping on the bed.

I groaned, cracking open an eye to see both boys nearly on top of me, effectively pinning me beneath my blankets.

“Happy Christmas!” they shouted.

“Shhhh. ‘S too early. How’d you get in here this time?”

“That’s for us to know,” Fred started, “and you to find out.” George finished with a grin.

“Alright then, Happy Christmas to you lot, as well.”

I finally opened your eyes completely and sat up, trying to tame my hair and wipe my eyes from sleep. The twins had settled down at the end of my bed and were currently weighing the pile of presents they’d discovered there, attempting to figure out what was in each one. A lumpy one near the bottom was definitely one from Mrs. Weasley, but I knew I had a few from my parents as well as something from the twins.

They didn’t even allow me to get dressed or do anything else before they shoved the small pile of parcels in my lap and stared excitedly. I narrowed my eyes at them, daring them to have done anything remotely prank-related to my things. They looked the picture of innocence, though, in their blue sweaters knitted by their mum.

I opened my parents’ gifts first, the first being three muggle books I’d asked for and the second being a custom-made holster for my wand since my pockets never seemed big enough to hold it. I had a new set of quills from my aunt and uncle in France, too. Then I opened the one Molly had sent me, discovering a lovely emerald sweater with my first initial on it. I ran my hands lovingly over the yarn. Last year I’d gotten a pretty blue one, but I was happier with this green one. Beneath the sweater was a package of homemade fudge that I knew was going to be hidden for a later date. And finally, the twins had gotten me a whole package of my favorite candies and some sachets of tea.

I thanked them both and hugged them, then tugged on my sweater over my pajamas. I’d barely had a chance to run to the bathroom before the boys were dragging me over to the boys dorms to harass their brothers, both Percy and Ron.

“Merry Christmas!” George shouted.

“Hey look—Harry’s got a Weasley sweater, too!” Fred called attention to the sweater Harry had in his possession, one that was the exact same color as my own sweater. I smiled at the boy who looked up at me a bit shyly as Fred snatched the sweater out of his hands.

“Harry’s is better than ours, though.” Fred observed. “She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.” He looked pointedly over at me, but I just shrugged.

I’d met Molly at the end of our first year when the twins and I got off the train. My parents hadn’t been there to meet me at the station, so Molly offered to wait until they got there. I’d felt horrible since they hadn’t shown up for another hour, but Molly and her husband and the boys had all made me feel like I hadn’t been a burden at all and I’d so appreciated it.

To this day, Molly sent me letters every once and awhile to check in, even more than my own parents and I loved the fact that she’d taken the time to knit me a sweater for the last three years. It made me feel special.

“Why aren’t you wearing yours, Ron?” George demanded. “Come on, get it on, they’re lovely and warm.”

I knew George was just trying to get a rise out of Ron, but I did feel bad that Ron didn’t like the sweaters his mum made. I knew he would be more upset if we kept pushing, but George didn’t let up and chucked the sweater at Ron’s head.

“I hate maroon,” the boy moaned, but he did put the sweater on and I beamed at him.

“You haven’t got a letter on yours,” George observed once the sweater was safely donned by Ron. “I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid—we know we’re called Gred and Forge.” George grinned, his eyes twinkling as he winked at me. I snorted.

“What’s all this noise?” A voice broke through the din we were making and I sighed, knowing exactly who was coming to spoil all the fun. Percy. It’s not that I didn’t like the third eldest Weasley, but he was usually a stick in the mud and he found great joy in ruining our fun.

He’d stuck his head through Ron and Harry’s dorm room door, looking disapproving. It took all that was in me not to laugh at his disheveled curly hair and his smudged glasses. He looked like he’d just gotten up, something I usually didn’t see from “Mr. Perfect Prefect Percy.” Percy was carrying a knitted sweater too and I brightened immediately once I noticed it. I was curious what color he’d get and I was surprised to see that it was a gold color with a maroon ‘P’ sewn in, but it did match his prefect’s badge.

“P is for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on. We’re all wearing ours. Even Harry got one.” Fred said impatiently as he snatched Percy’s sweater from his arms and allowed George to take the other side, forcing it over Percy’s head while he protested.

After they’d shoved it over his head and trapped his arms in the body part since they hadn’t allowed him to get his arms in, I did laugh because he just looked so funny. His glasses were knocked sideways and his hair was even more of a mess.

“And you’re not sitting with the prefects today, either,” said George. “Christmas is a time for family.”

And then we marched Percy into the Great Hall where we all sat at the table and consumed as much food as we were able, the Christmas feast making me feel like I wouldn’t be able to eat anything else for a week with how much I’d eaten. Fred and George kept swapping sweets on their plates and dumping extra peas in my mashed potatoes, but I couldn’t even be angry at them.

Three years later, Molly was still making all of us sweaters and other knitted things and I happily donned a maroon sweater the same shade as Ron’s usual one, my first initial on it in gold again. It was perfectly comfortable and I mooned over it to George as we sat on one of the couches in the common room.

With the Triwizard cup happening this year, mine and the twins’ sixth year, we’d all decided to stay at the castle for Christmas yet again. As much as I loved celebrating Christmas with my family, there was something special about celebrating it at Hogwarts with my friends.

George was sitting back on the couch while I laid my head on his legs, a book over my stomach that I’d honestly forgotten.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” George asked as he brushed a piece of my hair off my forehead. I looked up into his deep eyes and smiled.

“No, I’m not nervous. Are you?” I asked.

George had asked me to the Yule Ball that was happening tonight and I was thrilled. Though I wasn’t sure how George was feeling about it.

“I’m more nervous that I’ll break your foot by stepping on it.” George laughed, poking me in the side. I squirmed away from his touch, slapping his hands away as he continued his ticklish assault.

“I’ll wear bigger shoes to account for the swelling then, shall I?” I teased, causing him to turn a pink color. “Anyway, I did promise Angelina that I’d get ready with her and Katie, so I probably should be off.”

“You, worrying about appearances?” George gasped, “What has the world come to?”

“Hush, you. I’ve got to make sure you don’t outshine me all the time.”

I flashed him another grin and rolled off the couch to head up to the sixth year girls’ room where Angie and Katie were already arguing over makeup colors and whether or not their dates would really care. Considering that Angie was going with Fred, I remarked that he would care. Despite the boys not appearing like they care about things like that, I happened to know that Fred wanted to put on a show at the ball. And Katie was going as “friends” with Cormac McLaggen, a wizard I happened to hate for his bad attitude and pompous behavior.

“Hey!” Angelina protested as I disappeared into our shared bathroom.

“Yes?” I asked, popping my head back into our room. I was sure the others would be there soon and I wanted to get a shower before going through the hassle of hair and makeup, even though Katie had already offered to fix up my hair for me.

“Are you going to have enough time to get ready? You haven’t even started and the ball starts at eight.”

“I’ve got three hours. That should be more than enough time.” I said, and I was right. It didn’t take me more than two to take a shower, change into my dress robes which happened to be maroon just like my sweater, and have Katie do my hair in some elaborate braided crown around my head. Once I’d finished my makeup and donned some gold jewelry, I snagged my cape and headed downstairs before the other girls even thought of it.

And there George was at the bottom of the stairs, lounging on one of the couches beside Fred and Lee Jordan. He looked fantastic in his dress robes and I smiled once he looked up and saw me.

“Blimey, you look gorgeous.” George said as he stood up and met me at the bottom of the steps.

“What, this old thing?” I teased him, “Just something I had lying around waiting for a special occasion. You look spiffy!”

George flushed again and brought me over to the couch. I collapsed between him and Fred, bringing my arms around the two of them.

“Look at my boys! Aren’t they beautiful?” I gushed to Lee, and he laughed at the twins’ expressions, knowing I was giving them grief for no reason besides the fact that it was fun. I smacked kisses to both of their cheeks, Fred wiping it off immediately with a halfway-disgusted look.

“Get off, you big lump.” Fred snorted good-naturedly. “Angie coming down soon?”

“Hold your horses, mister. She’ll come down when she’s good and ready. You reckon Ron figured out who Hermione’s date is yet?” I asked once I noticed the younger girl coming downstairs in her blue dress robes. She’d shown them to me a few weeks ago when she’d gotten them and I had to admit that they looked better on her than I thought, and I’d known she would be gorgeous in them.

“I bet you a galleon he throws a massive fit once he sees.” Fred remarked as Hermione escaped through the portrait hole with a wave back towards us.

“You’re on.” Lee grinned, twiddling his wand between his fingers. The more he did it, the more sparks flew from the end of it and I instinctively turned farther into George to make sure they didn’t fall on my dress. He wrapped an arm around me and tucked me into his chest, causing my heart to start beating a little more erratically. His laugh felt like a rumble underneath me and I hoped he couldn’t feel the change in my heartbeat.

I didn’t know when it had started, really. One day I was with the twins and I realized that, as much as I love them together, I had a major soft spot for George. I’d pretty quickly figured out how to tell them apart when we were younger and the more time I’d spent with them that first year had ensured I never got them confused, so I knew my feelings for George were genuine. He was just so sweet and passionate about his interests, and I realized very soon that my crush was maybe more than a crush. Well, definitely more than a crush. I was pretty sure I’d fallen in love with him. But I didn’t know how George felt.

Sometimes I fancied that I caught him looking at me with a different expression, one that screamed “I like you,” but then I second-guessed myself and told myself it was only a look that a friend would give. But I wanted to know how he felt more than anything, even just so I could move on if he would never feel the same. But, oh, how I wish he did feel the same way.

And then he’d asked me to the Yule Ball, confusing me even more. Fred had asked Angie because he liked her, a fact he’d admitted one night after a few too many spiked butterbeers. I knew Ron had tried asking Hermione, but he hadn’t listened to my advice and he’d asked too late when she’d already gotten another date. I knew Ron hadn’t noticed, but it was pretty clear to quite a few of us that Ron and Hermione had it bad for each other and were completely oblivious to the other’s feelings on the matter. I was sure it was going to blow up in their faces tonight and had put a galleon on it.

Most of the other people I knew who were going were either going strictly as friends or in the relationship mindset, but George had never specified what exactly we were doing. Fred had called out to Angie one night while studying in the common room, asking her to go. I hadn’t been asked yet and I’d voiced how nice it was that Fred was getting a move-on by asking her to go. But then the next day, George had handed me a library book I’d been searching for and promptly pulled me aside and asked me to go to the ball with him. It was quiet and simple and I’d loved him even more for it.

Deep down, I’d been hoping he’d ask me and I’d been thrilled that he had. But his face was saying something totally different and it scared me. I didn’t want to be his pity date, but I’d rather be his date than worry about going to the ball alone.

George broke me from my thoughts by rubbing his thumb over my shoulder and causing goosebumps to form where he’d touched my bare skin. I shivered and looked into his face.

“You ready to head down to the hall?” he asked.

“I don’t mind waiting if you want to go down together.” I murmured, bringing my hand up to still his on my shoulder. He froze at my touch. “But we can go down now if you want to.”

“Let’s go down and scope out the place.” George smiled, getting up and helping me to my feet. “Lads, we’re going to scope out the place. I’m starving, so we’re gonna scheme our ways into getting snacks.”

“Why don’t you just sneak into the kitchens?” Lee asked, looking up at us. I snorted, because way to go Lee for using his brain.

“That’s brilliant. Let’s do that.” I dragged George along for the ride as we made our way to the portrait that would let us into the kitchens. George did the honors of tickling the pear and then we were in the kitchens faster than you could say ‘charm.’

The room was full of amazing treats and the house elves smiled at us as I waved at them. They knew who we were and I’d chatted with loads of them since the twins and I figured out how to get in here. Sometimes I wondered if the twins missed the magic map we’d pilfered from Filch’s office as much as I did on occasion. It was such a wonderful piece of magic, though I was glad Harry seemed to be putting it to good use now since we’d given it to him last year.

Armed with snacks that we carried in our hands for easy access, we exited the kitchens and made our way to the Great Hall, which had been transformed like never before for the ball. McGonagall gave George and I a surly look once she saw what we were carrying, but she didn’t say a word to us about it. I was sure she had more important things to worry about than us stealing snacks from the kitchens, especially since this event wasn’t just for us, but also for the two wizarding schools whose students were currently staying with us.

I spotted Hermione with her date, grinning away as they moved towards the table where they’d be sitting with the other Triwizard Cup champions. It was no surprise that we had assigned seats and I thanked my lucky stars that George and I would be sharing the table with most of the other Gryffindor sixth years.

“Is Hermione here with Krum?” I heard Katie ask, and I was startled since I hadn't even heard her come up behind me. I nodded and she smiled, “Good for her! I wish he was my date.” She tossed a grumpy look at McLaggen who was looking even oilier than usual. To his credit, he pretended not to hear her and instead said hello to George and a few of the other people milling about.

George and I took our seats and watched as other witches and wizards from all three schools entered the room, their reactions the same as ours as they surveyed the room in all its splendor. It was wonderful charm work to convert the room this spectacularly.

I absolutely loved sitting at the table, hearing all the conversations going on around us and admiring everyone’s outfits. George sat as close to me as acceptably allowed, but I didn’t mind it because I’d made up my mind.

At the end of the night, once the dancing was done and we’d eaten as much as we wanted, I was going to tell George how I felt. The thought almost made me sick, but I knew I had to do it. I had to. Otherwise, the feeling was going to eat me alive and I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore, even if he rejected me. At least I’d still have him as a friend, I hoped.

As the night dragged on, especially after Harry’s disastrous dance with one of the Patil sisters, I grew tired. Only George noticed. We’d been out on the dance floor for hours, only taking breaks to down lemonade and pumpkin juice and some sort of punch the house elves had created. I’d probably eaten at least five mince pies and George was well on his way to eating the whole table full of sweets. But after the Weird Sisters had left and the party started dying down, George pulled me aside.

“Wanna take a walk before we go to bed? I bet the third floor is empty. Well, except for Mrs. Norris who’s probably roaming about looking for students making out.” he laughed in my ear, his arm wrapped around my waist.

I shivered at his touch, but nodded, my grin infectious. George grinned back, grabbing both of our cloaks as he told Fred we were leaving. In between him yelling back and forth with Angie about something, of course.

The third floor was empty, just like George said, and we settled into comfortable silence as we walked down the hallways. The paintings watched us as we went, but I chose to ignore them as I tried to settle my rapid heartbeat. Was now my chance?

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt George settle his hand in mine, our fingers now intertwined between us. I looked up at him to find him already looking down at me.

“You’re really special, y’know that?” George broke the silence. I felt a hot flush extending up my neck as I smiled at him.

“Is that your way of saying you’re happy to have me as your weird best friend?”

“Oh no, that spot is reserved for Lee.” he joked. I slapped his arm softly with my other hand as he laughed at me. “Only kidding, lovey. Promise.”

“Good. Lee has nothing on me.” I sniffed.

But that was my last coherent thought as George yanked on our entwined hands and pulled me right in front of him. And then, most wonderful of all, reached his other hand over to cup the back of my head and kissed me. Kissed me! George was kissing me! I was screaming internally.

The kiss didn’t last long before George broke away to gauge my reaction, his eyes searching my face for any sign of disgust. But how could I be disgusted when the boy I was in love with had just done the one thing I’d been waiting for for over a year?

“George?” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Is it silly if I say I love you?”

His eyes widened with surprise before he started grinning uncontrollably.

“Nope! Say it as loudly as you like because, love, I adore you. Godric, I thought you were gonna slap me. I never thought you’d like me too, let alone love me.”

“I could still slap you, but I’d much rather kiss you.” I laughed before leaning up to kiss him again.

“Blimey, mum’s gonna be ecstatic. She loves you.” He whispered, and then he kissed me over and over again until I was nearly drunk with it, the feeling indescribable. But I was happy, oh so happy. And so was he.

[arjudy224]

Chemical Valley

(The Intern x Red Hood)

After the unsettling reminder of her past, Y/N has been avoiding vigilantes for the last few months. However, Dr. Harris has requested backup in the form of Gotham's newest crime lord. What could go wrong?

The Intern Collection:

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I'm getting real sick of risking my life for a minimum-wage job. Driving around with Dr. Harris is one thing, but since when did the job description list teaming up with crime lords? I mean it's the Red Hood for Christ's sake. Dr. Harris gives me a protective smile from the driver's seat.

"Don't worry about Red Hood. He knows what he's doing." He starts sensing my apprehension. "Besides, he owes me a favor."

I nod with a nervous smile. Red Hood is the only vigilante that I've never interacted with. He only recently appeared in Gotham. From what I've heard on the streets, he isn't exactly on great terms with Batman.

"All due respect... hasn't he killed people? " I question glancing around the lonely alleyway.

Growing silent, Harris contemplates his response.

"Not recently." He says with what is supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Trying to ignore the anxiety creating knots across my gut, I reply with more enthusiasm than I feel.

"Oh well... that's progress."

Harris laughs.

"It's Gotham dear. It's hard to find someone who hasn't committed murder. I wouldn't worry too much about the Hood though. If you can befriend Waylon, a little boy in a helmet is the least of your worries. "

I raise an eyebrow.

"You wanna elaborate?"

He smiles sweetly. I narrow my eyes.

"Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."

That shuts me up. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I contemplate what he just said. Dr. Harris isn't exactly wrong... Glancing at the time clock on the dashboard, I frown. I guess vigilantes aren't known for being punctual, but at least Nightwing was on time. Considering our history, maybe we were both eager to see each other again. I try to focus on the cool air dusting across my face.

A swift knock causes me to jump. The infamous Red Hood almost cartoonishly waves at me from the outside the window. My nervous heart patters like a hummingbird. Eyeing his bike, I sigh. It was silent... Of course, it was silent. What kind of muffler does he have on that thing?

Harris rolls down the window.

"Good morning. Thank you for meeting us."

Leaning on the car door, Red Hood asks in a deep voice

"What do you have for me Dr.?"

"Routine inspection of Ace chemicals. Normally, I wouldn't worry about having a backup, but with an uptick in Joker sightings... I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry."

Hood nods, then glances in my direction.

"I'll keep an eye out."

"Y/N L/N," I say introducing myself, "But most people call me L/N."

"Weren't you the one who convinced the Riddler to let you go in exchange for inspecting his lair for asbestos?" Hood asks with a tone of pride.

I smile while shaking his hand. Word must get around quick.

"Yeah, that's me. He didn't even ask me any riddles. The poor man was terrified."

Dr. Harris whips his head around.

"Why haven't I heard about this?" He demands.

I flash him a shit-eating grin.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to Dr. Maybe Metropolis hasn't made me so soft after all."

Before he can start lecturing me, I step out of the car to face my new bodyguard. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground. I sidestep the hulking mammoth of a man.

"Thank you for dropping me off Dr., but I'm sure "Little" Red and I can take it from here."

From the Driver's seat, Harris watches me with a hint of pride.

"This is not the last time we will be discussing this."

"I look forward to the debrief," I remark as he pulls away.

The ACE chemicals manufacturing plant towers over the surrounding buildings. The smoke stacks excrete a dark sticky aerosol that trickles down from above. Its gothic structure makes it look like something out of a Tim Burton film. Taking a step near the external shutter, I drag my index finger across. My glove smears a damp power off revealing the old white paint. An uncomfortable sensation settles in my chest.

There is no way this amount of air pollution is legal.

After my second round of coughing, Red Hood offers me a disposable face mask. I gratefully take it. The neon green sign serves as a haunting reminder that somehow this has passed inspection. My eyebrows furrow. We passed several kids on the way here. What does that do to someone? No wonder Dr. Harris mentioned childhood asthma. I'm more concerned about the long-term exposure to industrial solvents.

Glancing at Red Hood, I state

"There is no way this is legal."

Hood stays quiet for a moment. Adjusting his helmet, he replies

"The law can be anything you want as long as you kill the inspectors who challenge you."

My mouth falls open. A thousand questions flood my mind.

"Somebody must have tried."

Hood tilts his head while glancing between us and the doors.

"Somebody did try."

Tossing me a key card over his shoulder, he continues, "You can visit them in Arkham if you want."

I flounder to catch the key card. It takes a few moments to register his words. Them as in more than one? Or is he concealing their identity? By the time my brain focuses, I stand in the alley alone staring up at a sign for a trading card company.

Isn't that where the Joker.... Oh hell no...

Stumbling through the stained doors, a bubbly man contrasts the bleak external welcome. As he rambles, I analyze the faded posters nailed to the wall. Dr. Harris briefly mentioned the factory's history of producing bioweapons during the Second World War. Hazardous feels like an understatement. I nodd along with the pleasant man, yet something in my gut tells me to keep my eyes and ears open.

Walking past a dust cloud, my lungs contract. Unable to steady myself, I sneak down a back hall to take my inhaler. The rambling man continues down the other hallway completely oblivious to my absence. I tear the disposable mask off my face. Searching my pockets for the familiar medication, my heart drops. Of course, I left it in the car.

I sink into a seated position once the dizziness sets in. Do. Not. Panic. We cannot do that again. No more emergency room trips. A pair of boots emerges from the shadows.

"Are you alright?"

I nodd while focusing on each labored breath.

"Sometimes, I really hate this city." I wheeze clutching my chest.

Red Hood lets out a dry laugh before taking a seat next to me.

"I have something that might help, but you have to trust me."

A small inhaler makes its way into my left hand. Squinting, a small Bat engraving stares up at me. I give him an incredulous glance. There is no fucking way that Batman has a pharmacy.

"It works. I promise."

Reluctantly, I take two puffs. We sit in silence for a few minutes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I relish the first full breath of air in days. My lungs expand completely. It is glorious.

"How is your friendship with Killer Croc?"

The immense pain that weighs on my chest lessens slightly.

"I'm sure Waylon wouldn't use the word friend. "

I open my eyes to look at him. Spots litter my vision. The sticky residue has left grime all over his mask. I hesitate.

"Waylon has lost everything... Everyone really. All he really needed was a friend."

Hood stays silent weighing out my words.

"What factory did they make you in?" He questions.

I can almost hear a smile in his voice.

"The same one that kicked you out for defects." I retort staring at the white paint peeling on the far left wall.

Considering the age of this building, I really hope that's not lead paint.

"Touché, Ms. Friendship. Touché"

I give him a friendly shove.

"You know, you aren't as bad as your reputation suggests."

He laughs climbing to his feet.

"I wouldn't go that far. Usually, I'm a dick."

"Better a dick than a sociopath," I say dusting off the black power on my pants.

"Damn Metropolis. Who have you been talking to?"

I shrug.

"It's Gotham. "

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he asks

"You ready to find Mr. Optimistic?"

I nodd allowing him to pull me to my feet. Enjoying the comfortable silence, I open the door for him once we make it down the hall. To my surprise, Red Hood slams me against a wall before covering my mouth. Paralyzed in shock, I don't fight him. The Red Bat insignia stares at me. The soft aroma of his cologne catches me off guard. It's nice. Very musky. There's something so... familiar about it. I suddenly feel my face go red. There is no way I am evaluating how good a CRIMINAL smells. Get a grip girl.

Ignoring my mental crisis, Red Hood leads the two of us out the back door. Stumbling out the door behind him, I bend over holding my knees for stability. This is a lot of cardio for a regular inspection.

"What the hell was that about dude?" I hiss in between breaths.

Red Hood doesn't say anything.

"I know you are trying for the strong and silent type, but I think this partnership would benefit from open communication."

Standing up tall, a gunman aims a pistol directly at my temple.

Oh.. That's why.

Tag list: @nosyrobin, @jjsmeowthie, @epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin, @rory-cakes, @luna-zendra-star

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Flower Crowns

masterlist

pairing: harry potter x female reader

warnings: kissing, jily 2.0, fluff, flirty harry

summary: you were quite popular among the wizards and witches in the school, you had many admirers but none of them were like harry potter

a/n: harry would honestly be such a perfect boyfriend

song: i was made for lovin’ you - kiss

It was your sixth year at Hogwarts, today was your first day back after summer. Seated at the Slytherin table with some of your friends, you were in a conversation about what everyone did over the summer. 

As you were about to tell them about the trip you took, you hear a throat being cleared from behind you. You turn around as your friends look up and roll there eyes. 

“Hello, darling,” Harry grins while plopping himself on the bench with little room next to you.

“Potter,” you nod looking him over.

“How is it you’ve gotten even more beautiful over the summer,” he sighs dreamily. Your friends moved down the table more since they were tired of this routine. You look at them with betrayal as they just smile and shrug. 

“What is it you came over here for?” you dont know why you bother asking at this point, you already know whats coming. 

“Well, love, I came to ask you if you would go out with me this weekend,” he winks. You glace over his shoulder to see a Hermione sighing and a grinning Ron. 

“Sorry, Potter, but I’m going to have to decline your offer,” you said looking back at him. He’s use to you saying no, like how it has been for the past four years. He still trys all the time, he has never done anything with another person either. He is so set on you being for him that he is disgusted at the thought of being with anyone else that isn’t you. 

In the summer before second year, he went back home and told his parents about you. He would somehow have a way to bring you up everyday, while he blushing thinking about you. James would always grin at Lily while lifting his eyebrows up and down. She would roll her eyes as James starts to tell him about how to get you to take interest in him. 

Taking his dads advice, he would buy you little things at least twice a week, give you compliments every time he saw you, and many more things. 

One time during fourth year, he saw you walking around alone at the Quidditch World Cup. You were in a somewhat long silk green dress that complimented your body perfectly. You had some light makeup and your hair styled back.  He told the Weasleys and Hermione to go on and that he would joining them in a few minutes. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Harry greets you while letting his eyes roam all over you in adoration. You glance over at him, taking in his messy hair and him in general. You would be lying if you were to say that he was not attractive, anyone could see that. 

“Potter, how are you?” 

“I'm perfect after seeing you, you look stunning” he smiles.

You blushed and looked away trying to hide your light pink cheeks. Although he most definitely saw, he felt like the happiest person ever. This was the first time he was able to make you blush.

“Thank you, I suppose you don’t look bad yourself,” you tell him while the corners of your mouth lift up a bit. 

He could have fainted right there, he started to stutter as he wasn’t expecting that. 

“I best be off, Potter. My family is waiting for me, I’ll see you soon,” you wave at the blushing boy as you start walking back. 

“I- uhm- brilliant!” That day he went to back to the Weasley’s tent as he told them about what happened. They all teased him about his massive crush as was still in a daze. It was truly astonishing how one sentence from you could lead him to act like this. 

Another time was last year, fifth year, when you had gotten detention with Umbridge. You were walking back to the common room with tears stinging your eyes. Umbridge had you stay much longer than you thought because of your “innappropriote behavior”. Apparently, speaking the truth is innappropriote now. As you were turing you almost crashed into someone. You look up to see a worried Harry Potter looking down at you. 

“I’m sorry, Potter. Excuse me,” you excuse yourself trying to go around him. Before you can, he gently grabs your waist and turns you to face him again. 

“Hold on, darling. Why are you crying, did something happen?” 

You couldn’t hold in the pain anymore. You started crying while grabbing onto Harry. His arms quickly wrapped around your waist. 

“Shh, love. Tell me whats wrong,” he whispers while using one hand to play with your hair. 

“I- um- had detention, with Umbridge,” he looks confused so you take a step back an slowly hold your left arm out. 

He was still confused for a second before looking at your hand. He was fuming, he saved his anger for now and decided to comfort you right now. He also felt such sadness that anyone would hurt an angel like you. 

“She did this to you?” he asked while sounding like he was about to cry. You nod, with some tears still streaming down your face. Oh how we wished he was able to kiss them away. 

“Come on love, I’ll take you to Hermione… she is much better at healing spells than me,” he informs you while gently pulling you towards the Gryffindor common room.

It was pretty late, so the room was empty when you both arrived. Except for Ron and Hermione who were arguing on the couch. They never had anything against you, even though you were a Slytherin, you had never participating in any of the bullying that a lot of other Slytherins did. You even scolded Malfoy when he called Hermione a Mudblood. 

Since that day you became somewhat friends with the girl, ignoring the looks of disgust from others in your house. 

When the two gryffindors looked up and saw you crying with distraught Harry, their argument quickly ended as they rushed over to you both.

“What happened, y/n? Harry?” Hermione says worridly. 

You tell them what happened, and they were just as mad as Harry. They tried to get rid of the writing on your hand but it would not go away. So Hermione decided she would just take the pain away for now. You thanked her with a hug and said goodnight as her and Ron went to their rooms. 

You turned to Harry and noticed how close your faces were, you glanced down at at his lips almost leaning in when you heard a bang from the dormitory making you both jump. 

“I- uh- should get back. Thank you, Potter,” you smile, quickly giving him a peck on the cheek before rushing out and leaving you both a blushing mess. 

Harry was left standing there as he lifted his hand to his red cheeks where your lips were. “What a girl,” he mumbled walking up the stairs. 

Back to present times, Harry got back up from his seat and looked down to you. “I’ll suppose I’ll have to try again tommorow, pretty,” he grins walking back to his seat. 

You blush lightly before picking up your things to head to your first class. The professor ended up assigning seats, and to Harrys luck, he was partnered with you for the year. 

“It’s meant to be, love,” he says as he leans back into his seat. 

“You wish, Potter,” you smile at him. 

“Yes, I do wish,” he grins looking at your eyes. 

After a long day of beginning of the year speeches, you were finally able to plop onto your bed and sleep. You look over to your friend, Daphne Greengrass, she was one of the only tolerable Slytherins in your opinion. 

“It’s adorable how much Potter loves you,” she laughs laying in bed. 

“Pfft, don't be ridiculous Daphne. He doesn't love me,” you shake your head. 

“He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world,” she giggles.  

“Hm”

You decided to drop the conversation, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. Later the next day, you were in the forbidden forest. Around a year ago, you found a place with a pretty flower field that was closed off. You come here often, as far as you know, you’re the only one who knows about it. 

You started to weave a flower crown out of a few lovely flowers you picked. You finished it and put it on as you hear meows from behind you. You turn around a squeal as you pick up the kitten and started to play with her (you checked the gender). 

You were unaware of Harry who was on his was to you after using the Mauraders Map to find you. He finally found you and his heart melt as he saw you giggling with a meowing kitten that licked your face as you lay in the field. 

You heard walking and sat up only to find yourself looking at the boy who has been on your mind a lot recently. 

“Oh! Hi, Harry, I didn’t expect you to come here,” you say. 

“Harry?” he asks you, trying to suppress a smile.

“Thats your name, is it not?” you laugh. 

“I suppose it is. Mind if I sit?” you nod, as you sit together in silence that was unexpectedly comfortable. 

Harry couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you. 

“I really do fancy you,” Harry mumbles.

You turn to look at him, “I know… maybe I fancy you a bit as well,” you say, bringing your fingers up to show a pinch. 

“Really?” Harry asks leaving closer to you. 

“Really,” you whisper as you move so close your lips are brushing. You look into see his eyes and notice how pretty they are. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers against your mouth as he connects his to yours. You both close your eyes as you kiss back and reach your hands into his hair. For the first minute it was sweet, before it started to become more passionate. You bring your leg over his and straddle him without disconnecting your lips. It was pure bliss.

You tug his hair getting a groan from him as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for permission. You happily comply and open your mouth, letting him explore your mouth, and you his. You gently pull his hair back and kiss down his neck and jaw. You leave many butterfly kisses. In between the kisses he whispers some small compliments, making you smile against his neck. You find his sweet spot and lightly suck on it, making him whimper, and leaving a beautiful hickey.  He says some praises bring heat to your face. He kisses your cheeks, “I love making you blush,” he smiles. 

“Oh hush, Potter,” you get off his lap. He groans but you decide its better to stop now before things get more heated. 

“Is it alright if I make you a flower crown? I think it would look rather good on you,” you asks with a sheepish smile.

“Of course, love”

He lays his head on your lap as you make the crown, you finish after about four minutes. It was somewhat hard for you to focus when you could feel Harrys gaze on you, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

“Andddd… done!” Harry sits up and you place it on his head. 

“You look pretty,” you smile pecking his lips. A light pink coats his cheeks. He honesty has never been so happy, he adores you so much that you are 90% of what he talks about. It was such a pain for his friends to have to listen to his rants about your “angelic beauty,” as he puts it. 

“Thank you, angel,” he says. 

“I think we should head back now, dinner alreader started,” you say standing up, also taking the kitten with you. You both walk hand in hand, you grinning at the kitten asleep in your arms, and both of you forgetting about the flower crowns on your heads. You both keep up a good conversation throught the walk.

You stroll into the great hall with Harry as it goes silent. Then there was a chorus of gasps as they take in your guys hand held together, both of your somewhat messy hair, swollen lips, and the hickey on Harrys neck. You step away from him and you head towards your friends, you could hear most boys wolf whistling, some scowling at Harry. Many girls were also glaring at you out of jealousy. 

You look at the staff table and see Dumbledore wink at you, making you raise your eyebrows. You also see Snape hand over some galleons to McGonagall. 

“I’m happy for you, Harry,” Hermione smiles, glancing at Ron as she kicks his leg. 

“Oh- yeah! Good going, mate,” he smirks as he pats his back.

The next day Harry asked you if you would be his girlfriend. You nodded with a smile and gave him a soft kiss.

[sheloveshp]

A day like no other | Harry Potter x reader

summary: its harry‘s birthday and you (his slytherin gf) suprise him at midnight with a birthday he‘ll never forget

fluff, harry is legal, just young love <3

The moon shines bright over London tonight. As if it knows what day it is. The birthday of the boy who lived. Harry already knows it is going to be another forgotten birthday. He really expected it from the dursley’s and he can only hope that you, his girlfriend, won’t forget it too.

It’s 00:30 right now and he can feel himself dozing off already when a sudden noise awoke his curiosity.

tick

“What was that?” Harry whispered

tick

“Again?” He turns to lay on his back now staring up onto the ceiling.

tick

It seems like a little rock is being thrown at his window. Oh god he hoped it was you. Being forgotten by you was a horrible fate and he hoped he wouldn’t b cursed a second time.

Harry stands up from his bed and walks towards the window. He knew you wouldn’t forget him. How could you?

He found you starring up at him. His Slytherin girlfriend y/n l/n outside the dursley’s house. Yes, the Harry Potter was dating a Slytherin and what about it? You had his back since you followed him, Ron and Hermione into the chamber of secrets back in the second year.

“Love, what are you doing here??” Harry whisper-shouts, scared that the Dursley’s might hear him. He didn’t want them to know that he was having fun and neither that he had a girlfriend.

Despite being a bit thrilled as to not wanting to get caught, he is so unbelievably happy just seeing you be here for him and your beaming smile looking up to him.

“Happy Birthday, Darling!” you congratulate him as if it isn’t past midnight and you’re supposed to be at home on the other side of London.

Harry knew how strict your parents were because you’re a descendent of a well-known pure-blood family. He knew you were also risking so much by coming here, if your parents knew you’d probably be forced to live in that broom closer of Harry’s by tomorrow.

Harry is already looking on a way to come down and leave without waking up his uncle and aunt. Thankfully you have everything already planned out.

You wink at him and send him a little enchanted note which reads:

“Happy birthday my Love. I know how you feel whenever your birthday comes around so I thought I’d take you out for a stroll on this year. The following part might scare you but as you already know I am very skilled with my hands.

xoxo your Darling y/n“

Harry just smiles to himself while reading the note, thinking how lucky he is to have you. As you take out your wand and move your lips to utter a spell. You knew magic was forbidden outside of School but you don’t care right now. What you do care about is making this night magical for Harry. Slowly his feet started to rise of his bedroom floor and he started floating.

„woah, woah, woah!“ he whisper shouts again as you raise him outside the window and onto the floor on his feet next to you.

He wasn’t even steady on his feet when you gave him a bear hug and started kissing him all over his face. He reciprocated the hug and started laughing quietly while you still peppered his face with kisses and small “i love you’s”

“Happy Birthday to you, my Love. Ugh! I can’t believe you’re already 18.” You finally look up at him who is also just smiling brightly at you.

“Thank you for coming Dear, I love you too.” Harry kissed your cheek. “Do you maybe want to explain how you got here?” He laughed knowing how strict your parents are and that there was no chance you could’ve sneaked out just like that.

“I hexed them, obviously.” You smiled as if it was just the most normal thing in the world again. “Just how i hexed those damn Dursley’s to get you out of here” You beamed at him with a great smile.

“You what? How did you even do that?” He asked taking your hand up to his mouth to slowly kiss it, while holding eye contact.

“Well, that’s why you love me.” Even after all this time by his side and as a couple he still made you blush.

“You know I do.”

“Now come on! The spell only lasts until one hour after sunrise!” You took his hand in yours and started to walk behind a tree. One you were behind the tree you stood still.

“Oh, I know where this is going.” Harry grinned cheeky while rubbing his hands together excitedly. When he came closer to pull your waist forward and to kiss you, you leaned in only to take out his wand from his back-pocket and teleport both of you.

To the shimmering lake of Hogwarts.

“Oh. my. god.” Harry stumbled a bit before you held him up by his arms. “Y/n, are you crazy? You can’t just do that!” You know that Harry was never the one to teleport but what you also know is that he’d forget all about this once he sees your surprise.

“I am sorry baby. I just wanted to surprise you.” You said in a lower tone while you came closer to him and kissing his neck softly.

“It’s okay babe.” He cupped your cheeks and kissed them softly. A kiss filled with so much affection and love had you threatening to fall to your knees.

„It’s just that the last time I used magic outside of school I had a hearing at the ministry the next day.“ He laughed reminiscing the time he was almost expelled out of Hogwarts which was the year both of you officially started dating.

You rested your forehead on his when you remembered why you’re actually here.

“Harry, do you trust me?”

“Blindly.”

“Alright, I am going to close your eyes now and lead you somewhere. Don’t you dare to peak!”

“Alright, My love.” He said closing his eyes and taking your lead without hesitation.

You lead him towards the lake where you had previously prepared his surprise. Surprises maybe?

A cute patterned picnic blanket set up infront of the lake.

On it a treacle tart.

Wine glasses (to eat the cake with).

A few sandwiches (because you know the dursley’s barely feed him).

A few of his favorite sweets. (You being the favorite of them all).

An enchanted camera.

A mysterious package with a bow on top.

“Surprise!!!” You said with your hands thrown in the air.

Harry’s jaw quite literally dropped to the floor. He knew that might have prepared something besides a stroll around the lake, but this???

All of his favorite stuff including you, his first love and the one of his life. His heart was so content and so filled with love that it’s threatening to overflow with it, with you.

He loves you. so. so. much and so deeply. Harry hasn’t loved like this. He couldn’t, he had no opportunity. He knew love through you and only you.

“Y/n, I- am so-. You didn’t have to do all this for me, just spending time with you makes me the happiest boy alive.” Harry said cupping your cheeks. Honestly, Harry was never that good with words. He showed his love through physical touch or making jokes but words weren’t his strongsuit. Honestly, sometimes it frustrated him deeply. Knowing he loved you with his whole heart and the things you do for him but not being able to show his full gratitude because he just doesn’t know how, made him so so sad.

That’s why, again, he just kissed you to try make you feel a bit of the love he has for you because no kisses on this world nor any words would ever come close to describing his love for you.

“I love you darling.”

“I love you, too. Now come on let’s celebrate!” You said taking his hands and leading him towards the picnic.

When you sat down you immediately took the enchanted camera to take a few pics of harry alone.

“Where did you get that?” Harry inquired, knowing how hard and expensive it is to get one.

“The Weasly brothers let me borrow it.”

And how did Fread and George acquire such money?”

“They stole it!”

“ah that must be it!” You and harry laughed before scooting over to him to take a cute couple pics, hoping one day you’ll show them to your kids. Laughing about how you kidnapped their dad out of his room from the Dursleys

You kiss his cheek and shoot a picture. Both of you sat down and talked, talked, and talked. And laughed, kissed, hugged and touched.

He thanked you many times for the delicious treacle tart that you baked him and ate with wine glasses. Which you took many pictures of, including one of him with a bit of cream on his nose.

“Okay so!” you started to sit up from a stargazing position. “I have another surprise for you my love.” Harry listened carefully with the certain look in his eyes he always had when you were talking. It was the I am listening and only listening to you.

Finally you hand him the wrapped present that has been sitting in the corner the whole time. He wouldn’t be lying if he says that he hasn’t been wondering what the gift was. He was curious but he also didn’t care. He went 11 years with no presents and the day he met you made up for all of those years and the ones to come. Once again, you were his gift.

He took the gift and slowly unwrapped it. In it a Book? No, some sort of Album. A Photo album. Harry was on the verge of tears as he looked through the pages. Pictures of you both as kids, with Ron and Hermione, at Hagrid’s hut drinking tea, at the Yule ball. The most beautiful moments with the dearest people to him.

You looked through the pages with him saying “Rember when…” “Remember when...” Of course he remembered everything. How could he forget any moment he sent with you?

“I- I can’t believe this, yn. thank you so much. I am honestly speechless. I- I love you.” He kisses you intensely again.

You both kept reminiscing about your younger years at Hogwarts. How brave you were at such a young age already. Still sharing pecks here and there.

“Harry I have one last present…”

“Alright now I’m excited.” Harry said as you started to take off your clothes.

“Oh i like where this is going.”

“Harry!” You say as you push a little and giggle. “This is not where this is going.”

You took your shirt off to reveal a tattoo on your arm. It was a waterlily on it a ruby. A waterlily. Lily.

Harry immediately understood, even the ruby that is his mothers birth stone. You liked flowers and he liked Crystals and you got him a Tattoo in remembrance of his late mother. On your body. For the rest of your life.

Harry was categorically in shock and in awe. He would’ve expected everything but this.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. So he reached for the tattoo, softly grazing it with his fingertips. As if it was real; delicate as ever and scared that the lily might with away at his touch.

His gaze flickers between you and the image in front of him.

“y/n…” You only kept looking at him and his reaction. This was the reaction you were hoping for. A tear slowly runs down his cheek.

“y/n, no one has ever done such a thing for me. I- can’t believe you’ve done this.” Another tear rolls down his eye.

“Harry, I owe this woman everything after she saved you that night.” You started slowly. “If it weren’t for her…I would’ve never met you: the love of my life.” A conversation Harry knew well. “This is a reminder for me to never take love for granted, your love, and to be the strong woman your mom was.” The both of you often thought about how life would have been if everything was different. “It will follow me wherever I go. She will follow me wherever I go.”

Harry listening carefully and in this moment of you talking, he knew. He knew you were the one and there was no one besides you. Surely, no woman would ever come close to be love this way he loved you. Neither would any man be loved the way harry was loved.

“I love you. Every bit of love I was deprived from, I get to experience by you my love and I couldn’t be more grateful.” A deep kiss followed.

“Marry me,” You pulled away from Harry and you blushed.

“What?” Harry was looking into your eyes hoping for a positive reaction.

“You heard me, marry me! After we defeat Voldemort let us get a nice little home and get married.” His rambling showed his eagerness and if he could he would marry you right now.

Obviously you were not opposed to the idea at all, you dreamt of this and knew this would happen one day. Never did you think it was this soon though. The timing doesn’t seem to sound that bad though. After defeating Voldemorts you’ll get to be happy again and so does Harry.

“Yes.” That was all he needed to hear before he broke out in a smile and pulled you in again for a deep kiss.

There was no way one could sleep after this lovely night, which was filled with hugs, kisses and cuddles until Sunrise.

Harry held you and knew he was holding the world and all of its treasures in his arms. Oh, this love was truly beautiful. A love he would’ve never imagine to have lived. He was truly the boy who lived now.

[usedtobecooler]

live now, think later | steve harrington x afab!reader

a/n: thank you so much in advance to everybody who takes the time to read, reblog and comment on this fic. it's the first thing i've published in close to three months and i'm honestly a little nervous, i hope i've come back with a big enough bang! title is taken from think later by tate mcrae, and a massive thank you to @trashmouth-richie for making my header+dividers for me. 7.8k words.

summary: upon your arrival in hawkins to visit your old friend, eddie munson, his first idea is to drag you down to family video — where you ‘unintentionally’ meet steve harrington. a well timed deal, a fake friend date and a few drinks later, you find yourself in steve’s downtown apartment with lowered inhibitions.

warnings: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, bratting, spit kink, biting, hair pulling, very poor use of the pull out method. alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing and public heavy petting. no use of y/n and very minimal description of reader. eddie munson being eddie munson.

Eddie is all but dragging you into Family Video by your hand, the harsh metal of his rings digging into the webbing of your fingers as he pulls you in through the door.

Eddie Munson was easily the most excitable person you’d ever met in your life, and his sudden enthusiasm to get you into the video store is going to land you in the emergency room, because if he tugs you any harder your shoulder will detach from the socket. 

The buzzer above your head rings violently in an attempt to alert the staff that somebody has come in, and a mop of beautifully styled hair attached to an equally beautiful man comes into view as you edge closer to the rental counter.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie grins, loud and unabashed, "you got that new one with Meg Ryan in it? Heard she cums at a dinner table and lady luck over here is desperate to see it." 

He's sniggering as you pull away from him and smack at his arm hard enough that he lets out an indignant yelp. Your face is burning hot with embarrassment as the boy's eyes dart back and forth between you both, confusion etched on his face.

He - Stevie, apparently - raises an eyebrow at you both, taking in the disheveled and most likely chaotic scene in front of him, "You mean 'When Harry Met Sally'?"

"Majorly concerning you know what movie it is from the description of 'Meg Ryan cums at a dinner table'," you quip, mouth running away from you before you can even stop it. Your face somehow burns even hotter, Steve crossing his arms over his chest with a small smirk.

He's in a preppy little striped polo shirt under his green embroidered work vest, and god his arms are bulging. His skin is tanned golden, a product of the heat of an Indiana summer, freckles and beauty marks prominent on his face, trailing down his neck and dipping below the collar. 

You stare for a beat too long. Taking in the man in front of you, who looks very sure of himself. 

Eddie knows you all too well, Steve is absolutely your type, which makes your first encounter all the more mortifying. 

"It's my job to know all the new releases, honey." Steve's smile grows smug, and it's breathtaking how attractive you find it, "You're both shit out of luck, it's been on rent all week. Romantic night in, is it?" 

Eddie scoffs from beside you, and it takes everything in you to not be offended by how quickly the noise escapes him, "Yeah, she wishes. She's not my type at all, Harrington. Annoying, clingy, pisses too lo-"

"God, shut the fuck up," you're mortified, covering your face with your hands, "I've been in town less than a day, are you trying to get me ousted?"

Steve looks all too amused by the encounter, struggling to hold back a chuckle. His pretty eyes never leave you as he speaks, "Munson's deflecting, I already know you rejected him and he's taking it like a dagger to the heart." 

Eddie points an accusatory finger, "Take it back, fucker. I've never been turned down in my life." 

Steve quirks a brow at him, then turns his attention back to you. You squirm under his strong gaze, "Is that true, doll? I feel like he's lying." 

"I'm not getting involved in this dick swinging contest," you hold your hands up, trying in vain to ignore the silly little pet name that really does it for you, backing away from the counter slightly, "what are we even here for, Eddie?"

"I was just making sure me and Stevie here were still on for drinks tonight." Eddie glances at Steve, who looks as confused as you feel, “You wanna join us?"

You shoot him an incredulous look, "This feels like a set up."

Eddie smirks, "Why's that? Can't three pals all go out for a drink together? I want my two best friends to get to know each other."

You narrow your eyes playfully, glancing at Steve who seems to have gotten with the program, all signs of confusion gone from his face, "I'm not sure I trust you." You huff, turning to Steve and nodding back at Eddie, "What if he's just setting us up so he can bail and I'm stuck with you all alone, Stevie?"

Eddie feigns offense, "Now why would I do that? Besides, even if I did, you're a big girl. I'm sure you could bully Steve into leaving you alone."

You smirk back at him, "Fine. But if you and Steve start getting all lovey-dovey, I'm bailing and leaving you to pay the tab."

Steve barks out a laugh, "Don’t worry about me, I can behave myself. Same can’t be said for Munson, he takes one look at the Harrington ass and loses all inhibitions.” 

“It is beautifully round.” Eddie admits in defeat, hand clinging to his own flat ass, a ridiculously deep frown etched onto his features.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face and stays firmly put as you exit the video store, every nerve in your body buzzing when Steve winks in your direction when you depart.

The black lace bodysuit you wear clings to your curves nicely, the nip of your waist accentuated by your mom jeans. Eddie had even wolf whistled when he saw you, which was his nerdy way of saying you looked really fucking good.

As you pull up to the strip, Eddie slows down to a stop outside what looks like a dive bar, "I'm gonna drop you off here and go 'round back to park up the van, 'kay sweetheart? Steve's already in there."

Your eyes narrow, "I don't trust you, Munson. This feels like a set up."

Eddie holds his hands up, "It's not, I promise. I just need to go park the van and-" he trails off, sighs and rolls his eyes, "I have to go make a deal super quick. Don't want you there for that, this guy is sketchy."

You huff out a sigh, understanding him completely, Eddie really was a good guy who wouldn't put you in harms way. He knew leaving you with Steve momentarily was safer than taking you with him to a deal, and you trusted his judgment. 

"Okay," you agree eventually, making to hop out of the van, "but I swear, Eddie, if you don't come back, I'm gonna be pissed. You'd better be dead." 

Eddie holds up his hand in a scouts honor as if he was ever in the scouts in he first place, and you roll your eyes as you shove the creaky van door open and jump out.

"I'll be back soon, kiss Steve for me, will you?" Eddie jokes, grinning maniacally.

You stick up the finger and slam the door shut deliberately, making the walk around the side of the van before he can say anything in return.

As you make your way inside the bar, your mind races. Nerves and excitement are almost getting the best of you. Steve was just so cute, Eddie knew exactly what he was doing by introducing you both. 

The place is surprisingly cosy, pool tables dimly lit by orange colored lights. It’s reminiscent of a bar from back home, all hard wood and walls covered in various pieces of movie and alcohol paraphernalia. There are people scattered here and there, in booths and at the bandits, playing games of darts and billiards.

Steve's sat at the bar on an old vintage barstool, side on to you. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt, washed out Levi jeans clung to his muscular legs and a pair of Adidas trainers with green stripes on his feet. He looked relaxed, floppy hair falling into his eyes. 

You were a goner already. 

As you approach the bar, Steve must sense your presence, as he looks up with a grin, "Hey! Where's Eddie?"

"Parking up the van," you smile, taking the stool next to him and jumping up onto it, trying to ignore the way your tits bounce very obviously with the motion, "I wouldn't bother ordering him a drink yet, though. He's, uh, occupied."

Steve's mouth opens in an understanding 'ah'. It was no secret how Eddie made money, and you were sure Steve had to be used to this by now.

The bartender comes over and you order some fancy cocktail on the menu that consists of Coke, dark rum and cherry liqueur. It comes with a Maraschino cherry on top, and you can't hide the excitement on your face as you take your first sip.

Steve watches you with an amused grin, "You look like you're enjoying that drink."

"Oh, I absolutely am," you reply all too quickly, "a day of Eddie's shenanigans are enough to warrant a good drink." 

Steve leans in closer to you, his eyes flickering over your body none too subtly, the charm ramping up with every sip of his Bud, "I think we’ve spoken far too much about Eddie for now. Tell me a little about yourself, honey."

Honey. There's that damn nickname again, enough to make you melt in a puddle off your barstool. There was no denying that Harrington knew what he was doing.

You shrug, going for nonchalant as you lock eyes, "Nothing to tell, really. I work in a little coffee shop during the day, and at night I guess I'm still trying to figure things out."

Steve nods in understanding, "What kind of things?"

You take another sip of your drink, relishing in the way it buzzes through your body, "Where I fit in the world, I guess. What I wanna do with my life in the long term. I’ve been in a rut for a while."

"I get that. Working in a video store in my mid twenties wasn’t really the plan set out for me, either." Steve responds with a furrowed brow, brutally honest, "Has Eddie told you much about me?" 

You consider, "Not really. Just that you're a ladies man and you’re forever swiping the ‘hottest babes in Hawkins’ out from under him, but you know Eddie, he's a bit. Theatrical." 

Steve chuckles, a flush on his freckled cheeks, as he leans in closer to you, "Between you and me, he's not wrong. Just haven't found the one to settle down with yet." 

At the close proximity, you can really take in Steve. He's all tanned skin covered in gorgeous beauty marks, a strong neck with prominent veins, muscular arms but clearly on the softer side like he didn't take it too serious. He was like a Greek statue, his nose like it was carved from the same stone. 

You flush, taking another - albeit larger - sip of your drink, swirling the ice in the glass, "So, do you pick up all the chicks in Family Video?" 

Steve smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "You recommend a chick flick to a girl and it's like a moth to a flame." 

You do laugh at that, rolling your eyes fondly and nudging his shoulder with your own, "That's how you knew what movie Eddie meant! Romcoms are your strong suit for flirting purposes?" 

Steve's hazel eyes run over your face softly, his soft, pink lips jutted out slightly, "Would it have worked on you, if Eddie wasn't there?" 

Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by Steve's question, if only momentarily. "Yeah, I think so. Y'know, if it was actually the movie I was looking for and not an excuse for Eddie to mortify me." 

Steve grins, big and wide at that. Your faces are so close together that if he leaned forward just a smidge more you could rub noses. At this distance, you find yourself being drawn into his orbit, nudging closer to him subconsciously.

"Guess Eddie's bailed on us, huh?" Steve chuckles, moving back a bit and looking at the clock above the bar, the time ticking past an hour with no sign of Eddie coming back, "Or maybe it was his plan all along?"

"He's a schemer." You hum, watching curiously as Steve flags down the bartender and orders you both another drink. You try not to panic about the lack of cash in your back pocket, hoping the drinks weren't too expensive.

As your conversation dies down, your eyes are drawn back to his neck. It's covered in an array of moles and freckles, and you find yourself becoming almost mesmerized by it as he swigs from his beer bottle.

His neck is strong and muscular, tendons protruding as he gulps down the warm beer. The dusting of week old stubble adds to the masculinity of it all. It's a beautiful feature, one that you can't help but stare at with hazy eyes, and the markings scattered across his skin just make it more attractive.

Without even realizing it, your hand lifts, drawn to the smooth skin on the right hand side. You trace your fingertips along a particular set of the moles, shaped like carved out fang bites, feeling the texture against the pads of your fingers.

Steve looks at you, his darkened eyes filled with curiosity and something else entirely. You can't help but blush as you realize what you've been doing, only to find your fingers continue to roam across the skin anyway.

"Is my neck really that fascinating?" He teases, a slight chuckle falling from his lips.

You laugh lightly, trying to play it cool as your fingertips slip from the stubble roughened skin, dancing across the open collar of his shirt playfully before falling back to your glass, "Maybe it's just a bit distracting."

Steve smirks, that look in his eyes causing your heart to rabbit in your chest, "You know, I could get used to having your hands on me."

The huskiness in his voice catches you off guard, and you subtly clench your thighs together, aware of the fluttering in your gut as he leans in closer. 

You roll your eyes playfully, trying to cover your blush by raising your cocktail glass to your lips, "You're such a flirt." 

Steve only shifts closer at that, his shoulder bumping yours gently, "And what if I am?" He asks, lips so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath dampen the skin, "You're the one with your hands all over me, honey." 

Your breath catches in your throat, a hot spike of heady need and want coursing through your body. It's a momentary slip, one that Steve no doubt catches immediately, "I never said I wasn't enjoying it."

Your voice is barely above a whisper, Steve's close proximity somehow narrowing further as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, "Trust me, honey. I know you're enjoying it, you've had those pretty thighs of yours clamped together for a moment now. Gotta relieve that ache, huh?"

You shiver visibly, goosebumps rising across your neck and down your arms, jolts of electricity coursing through your body. As if Steve can sense it, he lets his own - unfairly, painfully large, veiny - hand run over your thigh, just above the knee. He traces the curve of your thigh through your jeans, barely touching but it's enough to make you ache for more.

Two seconds or five minutes later, who knows, he pulls away from your ear. You gawk, unsubtle, as he takes a long sip of his drink as if nothing ever happened. He smacks his lips together, those hazel eyes landing on yours again, a playful smile on his lips, "Where were we again?" 

You try to play it cool, but your body is reacting to Steve, still reeling from the feeling of his touch all over you, "Uh. Um," you start, making yourself busy by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "we were talking about our favorite movies, I think?"

Steve's face kind of screws up into a fake 'ah-hah!' as you blindly (and wrongly) fill in the blanks for him, seemingly completely unfazed by what just happened, "Right! You said your favorite of all time was Dirty Dancing, right?"

He’s making it up right before your eyes, playing along.  And it’s painfully unfortunate that he’s right without even trying, guessing your favorite movie right out the gate. It makes your brain go a little fuzzy. 

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. Even as Steve's own godforsaken hand continues to rest casually on your leg, his thumb running circles over your inner thigh, just above the knee, "Yeah, absolutely. Patrick Swayze, he's just swoonworthy."

You say it so casually, as if Steve himself didn't look like Swayze. More James Dalton than Johnny Castle, though. The hair, the tight black shirt, the jeans hugged perfectly to the swell of his ass and the curve of his muscular thighs. You had a type, clearly.

"Don't tell anyone, but Roadhouse is my favorite movie of all time." Steve grins, as if reading your thoughts from across the way, "Patrick Swayze, huh? Your type buff guys with a soft side?" 

"I would've thought me sticking around on this ‘date’ with you was enough of a giveaway on that front." You giggle, finally finding the courage to tip the last of your drink to your lips, swallowing it down in one fluid motion. You feel Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your leg, feel his eyes on you as you pretend not to notice.

You know you should move his hand away, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The feeling of his touch more intoxicating than the rum-filled drink you'd found yourself nursing, the hot feeling in your gut growing and growing the higher Steve's hand goes.  

"And here I was, thinking it was just my natural charm keeping you stuck in that seat." Steve says with a chuckle, running circles around your inner thigh like it's not making your insides squirm.

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your tipsy smile. There's just something about Steve, something so naturally charming that draws you in - he's confident without it being too much, and the way a stormy look swarms in his hazel eyes doesn't help with the physical pull you feel towards him.

The more he touches you, the more he looks at you, the more distracted you are by him. The alcohol coursing through your veins does nothing but amplify the warmth spreading through your body at his heavy petting.

He's beautiful, and you're blissfully comfortable in his presence, comfortable enough that the lull in conversation isn't even awkward. You look at each other through heavy lids, find yourself smacking your glossed lips together prettily, leaning your chin on your palm, elbow on the bar.

Finally, you speak, "So, do you always put these moves on your customers like this? Or am I special?" You drawl, teasing.

Steve leans in, his hand skating higher up your thigh, so close to the warm heat between your legs that you squirm a little, "Only the ones who make the moves first. You started this, remember?" 

Your heart rate kicks up a little more, and for a moment you forget where you are. All you can think about is Steve's wandering hand, the bedroom eyes he's giving you like he wants to devour you in public. You want nothing more than for him to pull you in for a kiss, to lose your inhibition and get lost in the heat of the moment. 

Somebody across the room begins hollering, crashing you back to reality, and it's a sobering reminder that there are dozens of people in this bar, who can see exactly what's happening right now. You clear your throat, shuffling back on your barstool a little, regretfully.

Steve's face falls, the flirty smirk gone in an instant, his hand dropping back down to your knee. You want to throw a tantrum like a little kid, tell him that it's not him, that you want it. Want whatever he's offering, just not here.

"We should maybe call it a night?" You offer, nodding towards the door, "I've probably gotta catch the bus back home, I know it leaves soon, so..."

You trail off and Steve nods, the disappointed look still on his face but a charming smirk gracing it once again, "Of course, I'll walk you over to the stop." 

Steve pays the tab like it's nothing, throwing bills and a nice tip on the bar for the guy who served you. As you leave the bar and walk out into the cool night air, it hits you fast just how much the drinks have gone to your head. 

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks gently, a strong arm snaking around your waist. "My apartment isn't far from here, we can walk back there and sober up a bit? I can drive you home in a few hours." 

If it weren't for the fact you knew Steve, Eddie knew Steve, and he was known for being a decent guy despite his reputation, you'd have shot it down in a heartbeat. But, the opportunity to be in his presence a little longer was something you didn't want to give up.

And, honestly, you didn’t know which bus would get you back anywhere close to the trailer park, not knowing Hawkins from Adam. This was easily the safest option. 

You look up at him, snuggling into him on instinct, "Are you sure? I don't mind catching the bus, Steve. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

Steve beams at that, teeth shining as he looks down at you, his eyes fixed on yours, "You might be able to, but I wanna look after you tonight. And besides, I don't think either of us are ready for this to be over yet."

You hide your small laugh into his shoulder, unable to ignore the strong smell of cedarwood and bergamot wafting from his shirt, intoxicating in its own right. The giddy feeling that erupts in you is almost juvenile.

You walk down the streets quietly, taking in the pretty sunset that dims the strip in pretty pinks and oranges. There's a comfortable tension between you both, like you're both attempting to play it cool but the attraction is too strong to stop you from pulling into each other. He never once takes his hand off your waist, and that's a revelation all on its own.

Finally, you reach Steve's apartment, a cozy little bottom floor space. It's minimalistic, like a typical guy's apartment, but it feels homely. Smells like fresh laundry and the same aftershave you'd been smelling the entire walk over. 

Steve looks regretful as he untangles himself from you, throwing his keys down on a table at the front door, "Take a seat, honey. I'll go get you something to drink." 

It's all open planned, the entryway leading straight into the living room, where a simple leather sofa and matching lazy boy sit. You throw yourself down ungracefully on the sofa, tucking yourself into the corner with a leg pulled up under your opposite thigh. 

There's two pictures on a sideboard, one of Steve and Eddie with two women you don't recognize at what looked like an outdoor gig, amongst a crowd of concertgoers. Another with the Hellfire kids, who you wouldn't know if it weren't for Eddie. The lack of family pictures are telling, though you don't dwell on it.

"Lemonade okay?" Steve asks, a pitcher in hand and a few small cups in the other, "I mean, I do have whiskey and beer if you wanna keep the party going?" 

"Lemonade's great." Your voice is fond, unable to keep the smile off your face as Steve sets them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking so domestic it makes you ache.

Your eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back, his strong shoulders in that same tight tee, the way his moles and freckles even continue past the neckline. You wonder if he's covered completely, that same dull throb between your legs returning even as you sober up.

"Stop staring, you'll give me a complex." Steve drawls, not turning to look at you as he pours the cool lemonade into the glasses. You flush warm, averting your eyes. 

He throws himself down onto the sofa right next to you, body also tilted so that you're facing each other, though your legs touch, burning hot through layers of starchy denim.

"I'm sure plenty of girls have been caught staring at you over the years, Harrington." You counter eventually, mouth dry.

"None that looked quite as hungry for it as you do right now." Steve quips, that same flirty smirk on his lips as he hands you your drink, "I didn't say I didn't like it, though." 

Heat creeps up your neck, the need to take a drink intensifying. You do just that, sipping from the glass in your hand. 

Steve's a real handful, and the longer you spend in his presence, the less you know how to handle it. Your body reacting and taking over for your brain, any playful retorts dying in your throat.

"So," Steve starts, no doubt sensing your awkwardness, "tell me. How did you meet Eddie?" 

You pause for a moment, caught off guard by the question, "How did I meet Eddie?" You laugh a little, flippant, "Before he came to Hawkins to live with Wayne, he lived in my town. He came home last Christmas break and we met at a friend's party."

Steve raises an eyebrow, "A friend's party?"

You smile. "It's not a crazy story, just a guy we both knew at different times. We just clicked I guess, we have similar interests and he just has this way of making you feel comfortable and safe. I can see why you're friends, you're so alike in that way."

It's Steve’s turn to blush, a flush of pink spreading over his nose and cheeks cutely, "What a compliment. That's cool though, so you didn't know each other before he moved?" 

You shake your head, "Nah, he's a little older so we missed each other. But, our friend - Carter, told me this hilarious story about how he got kicked out of middle school that I've got to tell you..." 

You trail off, telling the story that Steve genuinely laughs at, this booming, goofy thing that is just so goddamn endearing. 

Steve listens intently, like he's genuinely interested. His gaze locked on yours, like he's trying to memorize every single thing you're saying. You don't miss his fond looks as you talk with your hands, gesturing wildly as you tell the story. 

And then, without warning, he leans in with a strong hand on the side of your neck, fingertips sliding into your hair. 

He gives you enough time to pull back, a moment to say no that you choose not to take. His lips brush yours, soft and tender at first until you're melting into his touch, deepening the kiss with a surge of your body. 

His hand almost engulfs your neck, thumb running gently over your trachea as your chest rolls into his, desperate to get closer. The light smacking sounds of wet lips making you light headed, your hand coming out to tug at the material of Steve's shirt to steady yourself.

Steve's tongue slithers out to swipe your bottom lip and you're a goner, climbing ungracefully into his lap, knocking him back against the sofa. He lets out a startled huff, both hands coming out to bracket your waist when you allow him entry into your mouth. 

It's raw, messy and a little bit gross. Steve tastes like beer and a tang of the lemonade he'd been sipping, a hint of something else under there, a heady cinnamon. It's intoxicating, more than the drinks you'd nursed in the bar, and you find your hips rolling down into his on instinct, desperate to show him how much you wanted him.

He grunts, hands rocking you and helping you along. He's not hard yet, not at all, but the way he's moving your body is clear enough that he's into it as your tongues slip back and forth. He pulls back a little, the kiss becoming light and you let him guide you.

"Sorry, I just," Steve looks up at you with wild eyes, hair fanned out around his face where he lies back against the sofa, "I couldn't help it. You're so kissable, y'know that?"

“Don’t say sorry,” you scold playfully, smirking down at him, “you have my permission to do what you want. Anything you want.”

His hand wanders over your breast teasingly, light touches that you can barely feel through the layers of bra and shirt over your taut nipple, enough to have you arching into the touch in a silent plea for more.

Steve chuckles, deep and mischievous, clearly enjoying how your body melts under the simplest of grazes. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t give one singular fuck as to how desperate you are, pleased and satisfied taking his time with you.

Your hands entangle in his thick chestnut hair, tugging roughly at the root until Steve is moaning, hand faltering to skate down your stomach. Landing on the button of your jeans, but not moving. 

“Steve.” You groan, impatient, “Don’t frustrate me or I’ll do it myself. Please?”

Steve tsk’s, his pearly whites gleaming in the low light as he smirks at your desperation, “You don’t like it slow?” 

You roll your eyes, tugging his hair again, using it as reins to grind down into him, the heat of your cunt enough to have him grunting quietly. “Slow is boring. Slow means careful. I don’t want you to be careful with me, Steve. Show me how desperate you can be, show me how desperate you are for me.” 

Steve’s eyes flash so dark they’re near black, the sweetness still lurking vanishing in an instant. He gives you one last squeeze to your ass before he’s using both hands to practically rip the button of your jeans, fingers slipping into the tight denim and beneath the satin of your panties. 

“I’ll show you, you impatient brat,” he grunts, fingertips sliding between your folds and his eyes roll back at the feeling, “like fucking velvet, honey. You’re so wet, how long you been like this for me?”

“Somewhere between entering the bar and you touching my thigh.” You breathe, crying out when his pointer and middle finger slide into you at once, a blissful stretch that takes your goddamn breath away. 

“So easy for it.” Steve coos, and it would be offensive if it weren’t for the way he looks at you with honey swirled irises, soft at the edges despite the bite of his words. 

The hand not preoccupied with your cunt grips for your throat, thumb pressing into your pulse point as Steve surges forward to capture your lips once again. It’s rough, intimate, the graze of Steve’s stubble rubbing your chin raw as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. 

Your brain short circuits, his tongue reducing you to a bumbling, sobbing mess as you grind down into his palm, clit catching and rubbing against the dry skin in the most painfully beautiful way. 

The air is thick with sexual tension, thicker than the strands of hair you pull and tug at, thicker than the outline of his cock that you can feel digging into the fat of your inner thigh. 

“That’s it,” Steve mumbles against your lips, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against that little bump on your frontal wall that has your hips jumping forward of their own accord, “don’t hold back, honey. Let me hear you fall apart for me.”

It’s domineering. He’s fully in control and you’re letting him as you rut against the palm of his hand, sweat coating your brow as you fuck your hips against him, desperate to reach the edge. 

The plushness of his lips kiss down your jaw, to your throat where he latches on and sucks his mark into your skin. Sure to be a beautiful purple bloom in the morning, a temporary reminder that he was there. You want to beg for more. 

So you do. 

“Mark me like I’m yours.” You cry, whimper, even. Your body runs hot, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your impending orgasm starts to build. 

You swear you feel the smirk against your flushed throat. Steve latches onto you again, this time lower down, wider. You pull his hair, sighing contentedly as he suckles, nibbles at your tender flesh to produce yet another mark. 

His hips jump up against yours, a momentary slip that makes you want to plead for his cock, your brain so fuzzy with the need to rut and fuck that you’re about to give up the orgasm you’re so close to getting. 

“You’re clenching so tight around my fingers, baby,” Steve moans, kissing soothingly over the thumping ache of a bruise he’s left on your neck, “you gonna cum for me?” 

The white hot flashes of want and hunger you feel prickle up your back only intensify with his words, the end in sight as you ride against the palm of his hand feverishly, your clit sliding beautifully over the flesh. 

Your orgasm rips through you like a fucking knife to the stomach, your fingers gripping and pulling Steve’s hair so tightly that his head snaps back with the sheer force. You sob wetly, riding his fingers with jerky hips as he fucks you through it, eyes bleary but focused enough to see the hungry way he looks at you falling apart for him, soaking your panties and his fingers in the process. 

“You needed that one, huh?” Steve coos, mocking you lightheartedly as his fingers deftly slip from inside of you. You try your best to ignore the way it makes you feel empty. 

You nod dumbly after a moment, the whooshing in your ears beginning to fade out. You collapse into his chest with a small, contented sigh.

It takes only a mere few seconds for you to get with the program once more, kissing tenderly at Steve’s mole flecked neck, burying in to nip with your teeth hesitantly. Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, grinding down into the incredibly prominent bulge that rests hard against his zipper.

He grunts, hips thrusting up into yours as you move in some sort of slow, aching rhythm. His wide hands practically engulf your waist, fingertips digging into soft, supple flesh to help you rock your tired body against his own. 

It feels so fucking good, your body reacting to his in a way that was genuinely concerning, the primal need to fuck and have him inside of you taking over any kind of inhibition you previously had. He feels big, thick and hot nestled between your folds through two layers of rough denim, and the desperation ramps up.

You whine, pathetic into his salty, sweat damp skin, “Need more. Need you inside me, Steve.”

Steve groans like he’s in pain, hips jerking up involuntarily like they have a mind of their own, knocking you both out of the rhythm, “You sound so pretty when you beg. I’ll take care of you, honey. Knock you dumb just like you need.”

The sound you make is so pathetic that you instantly bury your face tighter into his skin, fingernails biting at the back of his neck. Steve’s hands are under your ass in a second, gripping to your thighs as he flips you onto your back on the sofa, muscular thighs spreading your legs impossibly wide as he buries between them.

“You need these off.” He grunts, pulling at the baggy denim of your jeans with rough fingers. You barely have the coherency to lift your ass up to help him wriggle you out of the offending material, body practically limp after the bone melting orgasm he just gave you with practiced ease.

“This too?” He asks gently, reaching for your top. You nod, lifting yourself up so he can slip it over your head, leaving you in only your bra and panties. 

You don’t wait for him to ask before you’re unclasping your bra, pulling that off so that your tits are bared too. They look great, your best feature if you did say so yourself, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult decision to make. 

He marvels at you for a second too long, taking in the sight of your body laid out below him, and those stormy eyes of his look deeper yet again – he looks hungry. Instead of it making you self conscious, it only spurs you on.

You wrap your legs around his torso, thick thighs pulling him in until he’s losing his balance and having to lean one arm out against the arm of the sofa to brace himself over you. The gold of his chain dangles close to your mouth, cooling the plumpness of your bottom lip with every gentle sway. 

“Down, girl,” Steve scolds, though that cocky smirk still graces his features and makes him look so painfully hot it makes your pussy flutter, “I gotta go get a condom.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “And risk ruining the moment? You’re clean, right?”

Steve nods, that cock-sure confidence faltering for a second, “Are you?”

You nod, biting at your bottom lip, “Haven’t done this for a while, big boy. You think you have the restraint to pull out in time?” 

Steve shudders visibly at your question, a heady whimper escaping his lips, “I can try my best, but no promises, honey. I felt how tight and soaked you were around my fingers, if you feel too good I’m not responsible for the consequences.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it cuts off into a moan when Steve lifts himself up and away from your body for long enough to stretch his arms behind his neck, pulling his shirt off from the back of his head with one fluid movement. 

He’s a marvel. The moles and beauty marks extend the entire way down his torso, even below his belt line, arms sculpted beautifully and his tummy muscular yet still soft. He’s everything, your belly flutters looking at this fucking perfect man sat between your spread thighs like some sort of Greek marble statue.

“Holy. Wow.” Your mouth is dry, your hands having a mind of their own yet again – just like in the bar – and coming out to touch and squeeze the flesh of his torso. Steve smirks, like he knows what you’re so hung up about, arching into your touch. 

He allows you the seconds of indulgence before it’s back to business, his fingers making light work of his belt and jeans as he regrettably departs his space between your naked legs to push the material down his legs and away from your bodies. 

His dick is so heavy that even though it’s fully hard, it doesn’t slap against his tummy, hanging slightly forward with its own weight. He’s big. Alarmingly big. And did you mention thick? Really thick.

God. He was going to be a stretch.

Steve grins sheepishly, settling back between your legs hesitantly. He makes to speak, but you stop him in his tracks; 

“You’ve not gotta be gentle,” you reassure, reminding him of your words before he dipped his hands into your panties just minutes ago, “fuck me like you mean it.”

Steve groans, burying his face into your neck as he lines himself up with your cunt and pushes in with one fluid motion. It knocks the breath out of the both of you for a moment, and you whimper pitifully at the gorgeous, burning ache of him stretching you out to fit him perfectly. 

“Holy shit,” He breathes, panting into your neck, “so fucking tight for me, honey.” 

You preen at Steve’s words, arching into his torso and somehow pushing him in even deeper. He had no idea just how much it stroked your ego to hear those words, no idea that it turned your insides into goo to know you were doing so good for him before it even started.

He rolls his hips into yours, the wet heat of your cunt gripping him, and you pant like an animal in heat when the subtle movement causes the coarse hair nestled in his mons to catch onto your sensitive clit. 

Your hips wriggle a little after a moment, a sign to let him know it’s okay to move, and Steve takes that subtle movement and runs with it — pulling out only to slam back in again, knocking your body up the couch.

It’s maddening. Your body runs hot with want and desperation, insides molding to the shape of his – quite frankly, annoyingly big - dick with each thrust, driving you absolutely insane in the process. The cut head rubs against that damn spot each time, and you know he’s going to tip you over for a second time all too soon.

“Fuck.” You cry, hands coming up to bury in his mane of hair once again and tug him down, “Fucking — how does it feel to be Gods favorite?”

Steve grins, mischievous and lust bitten around the edges as he sinks into your cunt with a quickening pace, “Stroke my ego baby, I love it.”

“Don’t get cocky, Stevie. Or I’ll just shut my mouth.”

The grin turns salacious, a large hand coming out to wrap along the expanse of your throat, just resting and not pushing, thumb caressing the side of your neck soothingly, “Don’t you wanna be good for me, honey? Or are you bratting so that I’ll give you what you really crave?” 

You whimper involuntarily, and that's all the confirmation Steve needs to really drive into you. Your back arches so that your torsos flush together, and he snakes a hand beneath the curve to grip onto your waist from below. 

“Oh my God!” You moan, body jolting at the change of angle. You’re turned into a babbling mess, fingernails digging into each of Steve’s biceps as he fucks you deep, rough enough to leave a mind numbing sting that you swear you feel in your damn throat. 

He’s looking at you with this wild expression, eyes wide like he’s drinking you in, watching each emotion he evokes from you with his body, “That’s it, taking me so fucking good. You like being fucked like a whore, honey?”

You nod, knocked dumb, mouth hung open like a pliant slut, a constant steady stream of whines and shuddering gasps falling from parted lips with each deep slide of his cock inside of you.

“You trust me?” He whispers, lips hovering just mere centimeters from your own, and you nod again, going cross eyed. 

A drop of saliva hangs from Steve’s pursed lips, sliding down into your open mouth and onto your tongue. You cry out, pathetic and desperate as you swallow down the spit like it’s cool water on a hot summers day. 

Steve shudders against you, hips slamming into you as his thrusts become erratic. You pray his apartment is somewhat soundproof, for all you can hear is the wet slap of skin on skin mixed with dirty moaning and pitiful cries.

“You’re perfect,” Steve mutters, sloppily kissing your lips before moving back to your jaw, worrying the flesh between his teeth like he can’t help it, “a fucking dream, honey. See how you’re ruining me?” 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s dropping your body back onto the sofa, his thumb swiping over your clit in a desperate attempt to get you there before he does.

It’s all too much. Your body runs hot, static surging up your back, hot in your gut as he works you over. You have to clench your eyes shut, painfully aware of his sculpted body gleaming with sweat, the swivel of his hips as his cock buries deep into you. 

Your second orgasm hits you just as hard as your first, your legs shaking and cunt clenching sporadically as it washes over you like a fiery inferno, gasps and wet cries of Steve’s name and other incoherent nonsense spewing from your lips. 

“Oh shit, holy fuck, baby you feel so – so good, god I’m gonna cum,” Steve shallowly fucks into you, jerky and desperate, “where do you want me to– fuck!” 

You open your eyes within enough time to see Steve pull out of you, sloppily tugging at his cock two, three times before he’s spilling all over your stomach. Hot spurts of it cover you from your belly button the whole way to your chest, and you swear you’ve never seen a man cum so much in your damn life.

It’s so hot. Being branded by ropes of cooling semen, sparking over finger bitten skin and bruises made by warm and heavy lips. 

There’s a long second afterwards, where Steve sags heavily against the couch as his dick softens, both of you panting and trying to catch a breath. 

“I’ll be right back,” Steve’s voice shocks you out of the contented post-orgasm haze, his hand squeezing your inner thigh gently as he gets up from where he’s perched, off in search of what you don’t know.

He reappears with a wet washcloth, and it’s all very domesticated as he wipes you down gently with the cool towel, fingers gentle against your sore skin in a stark contrast to just moments earlier.

You’re both completely naked still. This should be strange, but it doesn’t feel that way. Steve makes you feel painfully at ease and that’s something your orgasm fogged brain can’t comprehend or bear to think about right now.

“This might be a bit presumptuous, but,” Steve hums, inspecting your body to make sure he’s cleaned you down good enough for his liking, smirking as you squirm under his gaze, “do you wanna stay the night? It’s really late and, uh, well I don’t wanna kick you out after that. It was a bit intense.”

Your eyes are bleary. Fuck. He’s going to ruin you for anybody else.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your voice is soft, quiet as you rise from the soiled sofa to sit up properly, “You’ll need to call Eddie, let him know I’m okay.”

“I think he knows you’re all good,” Steve grins sheepishly, helping you to your feet and tugging you close as soon as you’re up, “I might’ve called him when I was in the kitchen earlier, let him know you were here to sober up.” 

You roll your eyes with a small smile, leaning into him with a heavy sigh, “You better have a comfy bed.”

“The comfiest.” Steve confirms, dragging you gently towards the door, “I also have a really big shower, and really good water pressure, so…” 

“Oh my God, I’m never leaving.” You mumble into his chest, giggling playfully when he lifts you up ever so slightly with his muscular arms and knocks the bedroom door shut behind you. 

part 2?