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purplecoffee13 · 4 months ago

Note

Been in a nerdy H mood so maybe he’s got a crush on his co worker who is the complete opposite of him on the outside yet they both have so much in common! He’s not necessarily “smooth” but the reader finds it charming and sweet.

Ah yes, love me a nerdy Harry! Here you have it! I think it turned out cute, but I hope you like it as well!!

Wc: 1.7k

Warnings: none, just Harry being an awkward cutie!

It was a Monday morning. A dull prospect for anyone with an office job, but Harry found himself to be quite excited at the idea of strolling into the office this morning.

His big fat crush on one of his co-workers, Y/N, was the main instigator of that cheeriness that he brought into the office, along with a box of doughnuts for his fellow colleagues. And yes, it may also have been a ploy to talk to Y/N.

Harry wasn't the best at communicating. No, scratch that. Harry could be great at communicating... business plans. Feelings, however? Nope. Big disaster.

There were strings in his brain he'd need to pull to hold a good flirty conversation but they seemed to be just out of reach for him, which was quite unfortunate because it's not like he had his looks working against him.

Harry knew he wasn't ugly. Plenty of times, very beautiful women had come up to him. He often times was surprised with the beauty of these women approaching him. His mates always called him the 'most handsome one', and he did work out a lot to keep himself healthy. So yes, he could say he was well groomed.

And he'd hook up regularly. With women he'd meet at a crowded bar or a dark night club. Interactions that required little talking is where he strived. He got the standard dirty talk down, and since his confidence always skyrocketed in that department, it was the only kind of conversation he could hold. Then again, that might also be because the women he'll talk to are too fucked out of their mind to say anything.

Long story short, Harry was great, until he liked someone. So, instead of being able to come up with some witty comment to kickstart a conversation, he was now walking up to his work crush with a chocolate glazed donut.

Y/N was hunched over her work, tapping her pen against the paperwork that she seemed to be completely entranced by. Harry stopped right next to her, and was suddenly filled with a terror that made him want to crawl back into the hole he came from.

He didn't get the chance to do that, though, as Y/N looked up and met his eyes just as he decided he was going to turn back around. She smiled at the sight of him.

"Hi." She greeted with her soft voice.

"Hey." Harry breathed, his heart racing like maniac, and forgetting why he was here again until he spotted the donut in his hand. Right.

“I brought you a donut.” He stated, reaching it out to her. Her eyes fell to the food in his hand, and she chuckled as she took it from him.

“Thanks.” She said as she put it on her desk before looking back up at Harry, waiting for him to say something else.

Something else… what the fuck should he say?!

“Uh— well, I brought them for the entire office. But everyone’s grabbing at them so I figured I’d bring you one before they… ran out.” His ramble slowed down near the end of the sentence, only now realizing how stupid he was sounding. He was to kick himself in the head! Maybe it’d knock some conversational skills into him, jeez.

“Thanks Harry, I appreciate it.” Y/N tilted her head slightly, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Fuck, how could she possibly look so hot and sweet at the same time?

“N— no problem… so I, uh I should probably—”

“Hey, did you end up watching that mini series I recommended?”

Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected her to keep the conversation going for so long.

“Uh, yes actually.” He responded.

Y/N and Harry, despite it not seeming that way, had a shitload in common. They both loved the same books, movies and series. They were both obsessed with murder documentaries and they had a mutual fascination with women in jazz.

So when Y/N recommended this crazy documentary series about the Night Stalker last week, Harry immediately watched it when he got home. He stayed up until one to binge it entirely and was groggy the entire following day. But it was worth it.

In fact, every thing Y/N would rave about, he’d check out. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to understand her better, and since he didn’t know how to— well, you know, TALK to her, he took this weird route.

Y/N gasped happily. “Did you like it?!”

“It was horrifying.” Harry stated. “I loved it.”

Y/N’s face broke out into a wide smile, and she leaned over her desk to grab her phone before she got up to stand next to Harry.

“Oh, I also found this weird documentary about the titanic on YouTube. The quality isn’t very good, it’s like very old, but I’ve been wanting to watch it for ages and I couldn’t find it anywhere. It’s so interesting! They like— act it out and everything.”

Harry just stared at the excited woman next to him as she typed in all kinds of things on her phone. He only took his eyes off her when she showed the video.

“You should send it to me.” Harry said, already fascinated with the first 20 seconds she was showing him. He leaned in further, his body grazing against hers. When he felt her gaze on him, his cheeks turned pink. “Uh, via work-email, if you want—”

She let out a breathy laugh. “Or you could give me your number.”

Harry was sure he could’ve fainted. Oh my god, oh my god. He was properly freaking out, well, internally.

“Right, yes.” He said, sounding a bit absent from how shocked he was about her asking him his number. When he realized he must’ve not sounded too enthusiastic about it, he suddenly began reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Yes! Uhm, wait, let me unlock it.”

Y/N looked eager as he typed in his password, went to his contact app and handed the phone to her. She giggled as she typed in her number before giving the phone back.

“You’ll have to text me first.” She said, and he nodded, immediately going to the chat and sending a ‘hey’. He let himself sigh in relief at how good this was going for the short second her phone dinged and she was concentrated on putting Harry in her contacts. That went away the second Y/N pointed the camera of her phone to him.

“What are you doing?” Harry laughed nervously.

“Giving you a contact photo.”

“And you want to do that now?”

“No time like the present.” She peered from behind her phone. “Now, smile!”

Harry smiled, at her ridiculousness that was, but he smiled nonetheless. Y/N let out a happy squeal as she turned the phone around and showed the picture to Harry. He grinned at the picture, but inside he was freaking out a bit. Jesus, did he really look at her like that? She was going to figure out he was crushing on her if he kept staring at her like that. Stupid fool! Did he have to be so obvious.

“Beautiful.” She said so lowly it was almost a whisper as she put in the contact photo. Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t fucking handle this anymore.

“Y/N.” He piped up before he could lose his nerve. Y/N hummed, looking up at her. “Would you like to go on a—”

“Styles! Stop chitchatting and get in here! The meeting is starting in three minutes!” Timmy, his co-worker cut off the question that Harry had been dying to ask for the past months.

“Shit. I have to go. Uh, have a good— I mean… erm, enjoy the donut.” He said and turned on his heels, racing to the meeting room. He was shouting profanities at himself in his mind. Fucking hell.

Enjoy your donut? Fool!

That was the only word he could think of that matched his personality well enough during the entire meeting. He didn’t catch any of what was said, but mindlessly nodded along anyway.

He sighed when he finally got back to his office and sat down in his chair. He whipped out his phone to put it on his desk, and his eyes flew to two unread messages from a number he hadn’t seen before. He unlocked his phone, and his stomach clenched at the sight of the messages.

Unknown Number

“Hi!”

“This is Y/N, by the way.”

Harry smiled, looking through his window to Y/N’s desk. It was how he noticed her in the first place. When she began working here, she was placed at that desk and Harry had received the luxury of being able to look at her beautiful face as many times a day as he wanted.

Harry

“Right, put you in my contacts.”

Harry wrote back, and suddenly felt a flash of boldness washing over him. Texting was easier, it wasn’t half as nerve wracking as standing in front of Y/N. He could think of his answers properly before saying them.

Harry

“I’m only missing a contact photo, though.”

A few minutes went by, and Harry was done starting up his laptop when his phone screen lit up again. He clicked on the message, and was met with a picture of Y/N.

It was a selfie of her with the donut he brought her this morning. She had placed the donut in front of her mouth, showing off her breathtaking eyes.

Y/N

“Will this one do?”

Fuck yes it did.

Harry

“It’s approved.”

He peered over at Y/N’s desk and noticed her smiling as she texted something back. His stomach fluttered. He was all giddy over this.

Y/N

“I have some bad news for you though.”

Harry looked up at Y/N again, frowning. When their eyes met, he noticed that she still had that playful grin on her face, which broke out in a mischievous laugh before she began typing again.

Y/N

“I’ve decided to revoke your access to the Titanic documentary.”

Harry bit his lip, excitement coursing through his veins.

Harry

“Now that’s just brutal. How am I supposed to watch it, then?”

Y/N

“How about Friday night, at my place? :)”

Harry’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as he read the text. It knocked the wind out of him, and he had to remind himself how to breathe before even thinking of a response because he’d forgotten how to do it for a second.

He was so excited he could jump through a roof.

Harry

“That sounds like a very good solution :)”

If anyone is truly interested in that Titanic documentary, here ya go.

352 notes · View notes

angelisverba · 1 year ago

Text

praise

in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny

word count: 5.5k

pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)

warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.

author's note: happy late halloween!

When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.

She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.

Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.

Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.

Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.

He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles.

So y/n had a little crush.

A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it.

She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her.

In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.

Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.

But she couldn't.

Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.

She could imagine it.

He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.

And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.

So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.

With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.

A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.

She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.

But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.

She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.

***

Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.

He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.

Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.

A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.

He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.

It reminded him of one his students, y/n.

She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.

But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.

She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.

Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.

But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.

Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by.

Not that he noticed.

Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.

Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again.

This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.

He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.

Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.

Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.

It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.

Her hearbeat.

Calm. Steady. Alive.

It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.

He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.

He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.

She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.

Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.

Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.

He had to get her to speak.

The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.

Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”

At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.

Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.

Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.

"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.

But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.

In fact, he looked almost... mad.

Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.

Everything, including her breathing.

He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.

Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."

She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.

Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.

And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.

One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.

This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.

"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"

***

Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.

She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.

He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.

“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.

��Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.

"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.

"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.

"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.

She was wrong.

Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.

Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.

And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.

Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"

She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"

"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.

In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."

She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.

“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.

He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.

"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."

When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.

"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.

"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.

Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.

The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.

"You were a bad girl, y/n."

Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.

She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.

His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"

"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.

He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"

Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”

“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.

“I need to cum, sir. I need-”

“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”

"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-

"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.

"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.

"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.

"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.

"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.

Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.

Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.

He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"

"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.

"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.

"I understand, Professor"

He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."

*****

happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #vampire!harry #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x yn

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aethon-recs · 9 months ago

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Themed Rec List | Tomarrymort Recs by Horcrux ⚡👑🏆🔒💍

I wanted to put together a rec list of Harry/Tom fics with a core focus on horcruxes outside of Diary Tom (the most popular horcrux) and Voldemort himself. Please enjoy these 22 fics that feature one of Tom's horcruxes and their special relationship with Harry.

There’s a ton of interesting variation that can be explored within a Harry and horcrux Tom ship — from where the horcruxes are located and when Harry can conceivably meet them in canon (for example, the Cup horcrux is harder to access than the others); to what age they were made by Voldemort and how that would shape their personalities and interactions with Harry; to the different magical properties that they might embody, depending on the vessel that was chosen.

Finally, it looks like Scarcrux and Locket are the most popular choices (after Diary Tom), and we absolutely need more Cup horcrux fics!

⚡ Scarcrux

Amensalism by @cindle-writes (E, 6k, complete)

Scarcrux becomes sentient after the encounter in the Ministry in Harry's 5th year and takes Harry for an adventure.

Bolide by @vdoshu (T, 3k, complete)

On October 31, 1981, a tiny piece of soul attaches himself to Harry Potter in order to survive. This is his story.

Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 28k, complete)

Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings warp all Harry could have become until no more than dark magic and devotion remains. Visions of a wraith with red eyes complicate matters, especially when Harry and the Voice follow it to Hogwarts so Master can get his hands on the Philosopher’s stone.

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)

You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.

last rites by @cindle-writes (E, 5k, complete)

Harry has an hour before he walks to his death in the Forbidden Forest. The horcrux in Harry’s scar decides to take matters into its own hands.

Look at me. by @crowcrowcrowthing (M, 1k, complete)

A dark night of the soul.

Pitch Black by @kagariasuha (E, 2k, complete)

The proximity of Horcruxes can influence anyone - especially Harry.

sandpaper kisses, paper cut bliss by @xodahafez (E, 27k, WIP)

Harry Potter survives the Killing Curse, but so does the horcrux within him. And this horcrux has been dangerously infatuated with Harry for seventeen years.

saw you in a dream by @duplicitywrites (E, 2k, complete)

Harry has had this dream before.

👑 Diadem

A peculiar way of fitting together by @being-luminous (T, 2k, complete)

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m wearing a diadem?”

Dance Me On and On by @duplicitywrites (E, 19k, complete)

In his first year at Hogwarts, Harry overhears Quirrell interrogating Binns about an artifact from over a thousand years ago. Five years later, Harry uncovers Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem in the Room of Requirement and finds himself pulled into a kingdom in the throes of a mysterious masquerade ball.

In Just a Moment, You’ll Be Mine by @dividawrites (E, 34k, WIP)

Tom has been stuck inside the Ravenclaw's Diadem for decades, alone, with nothing but his slowly fading memories. One day he feels a pull towards someone and gets interested. And then he gets obsessed.

Death is not an Escape by @whitepinkdandelions (T, 2k, complete)

The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw is full of endless wisdom, so it only makes sense that it gets its hooks into Harry much faster than the rest of them.

🏆 Cup

Thirst by @obsidianpen (E, 27k, complete)

Things go awry when the trio beaks into Gringotts. Harry finds himself trapped, locked in the Lestrange vault, wandless and alone... With a horcrux.

🔒 Locket

Arson by @rudehellion (M, 8k, complete)

The hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes is going poorly. In need of some space to think, Harry offers to take the first watch over camp and slips out into the snowy night. Unable to shake his dark thoughts, Harry finds himself drifting and he begins to dream. What he sees changes everything.

knock it off (part 1) / crave gets slaked (part 2) by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts (E, 6k, complete)

At some point during Harry's time with the Dursleys, pain got crossed with affection. A kick from Dudley or having his arm yanked by Uncle Vernon at least means they’re acknowledging his existence. It’s not love, but it’s something. Too bad for Harry he carries that through to his less dysfunctional relationships.

The Cost by Blood_Stained_Fingers (M, 8k, complete)

The cost of making a horcrux was steep and when Voldemort manages to kill Harry, destroying the horcrux within, Harry finds out the exact price of losing a piece of your soul. It made a cruel joke that if Voldemort loved his horcruxes, Harry should love them too.

The Dead of Night by @cybrid (E, 6k, complete)

An empty house. A glint of gold. A dream. Or: running away from Privet Drive goes terribly for Harry.

The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k, complete)

Harry finds the locket at Grimmauld Place, but it has a curse laid on it. When Harry triggers it, he finds himself trapped with the locket version of Tom Riddle, both of them stuck within the enchantment until they can find the way out. Or so Harry thinks.

Whole by Emriel (E, 20k, complete)

The horcrux hunt goes wrong and Harry fails to destroy the locket horcrux. Tom Riddle hands him over to the Dark Lord as a present for they know he holds part of their soul. In their care, Harry learns that feelings, no matter how toxic, are hard to get rid off.

💍 Ring

Personal Assistant by @phantomato (E, 10k, complete)

“And that’s it? I call ‘Tom’ and you show up?” “Yes,” Tom answers.

shelter from the storm by @cindle-writes, @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)

After being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry stumbles upon an empty shack in the middle of nowhere, where he finds a mysterious ring underneath the loose floorboards.

#tomarrymort #tomarry #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #hp fic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #harry/horcrux #horcrux tom #scarcrux #diadem horcrux #cup horcrux #locket horcrux #ring horcrux

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coreofgold · 1 year ago

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Gil Legume tag drop!

Hey guys! They're here! (Gil interacts)

The Son of Gaston (Gil interacts)

The Son of Hook (Harry Hook)

The Daughter of Ursula (Uma Vantis)

The Daugther of Maleficent (Mal Faery)

#Hey guys! They're here! (Gil interacts)#The Son of Gaston (Gil interacts)#The Son of Hook (Harry Hook)#The Daughter of Ursula (Uma Vantis)#The Daugther of Maleficent (Mal Faery)

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emprxssrxsxng · 1 year ago

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While there was no doubt there was a crude sort of sweetness about the man that drew Jasmine in, each experience she'd had during the course of her lifetime(s?) had left the Princess feeling a bit mistrusting and a bit more jaded. Still, she went along, realizing how much easier life would be with a companion of some sort, especially when it came to something as simple as placing a drink order.

Once Harry moved Jasmine followed, head on a swivel as she took in the way the crowd seemed to simply part for him. When they arrived at the bar itself Jasmine gave a shy smile at the fact that she hadn't realized she apparently wasn't in the place to even order a drink. Sliding onto the offered stool, her eyes widened as she gazed at her companion, doing her best to keep up with what he was saying. "I, uhh...I think of those options I'd be most comfortable with sweet, at least to start?" It came out as more of a question, though she was confident the other would understand.

"Haven't been in a place like this?" Harry feels a soft enjoyment in the pit of his stomach. Being the first person this pretty thing ran into to pop the bubble of a place like this. There were many ways this could go in the long run, and while a scoundrel just below the surface, he had no intention of actually doing anything to cause harm. "A drink it is then. Just follow my lead, little darlin'. I won't lead ye astray."

He's sure to part the crowd like the waters as he leads her over to the actual bar itself, not minding in glaring one bum off his stool so they could have seats next to each other. Patting the seat in question, he props himself up on the stool, leaning over the bar top to get the tenders attention. "Would ye say you're more into sweet things, spicy things, strong things, or just anything to wet the whistle. Pick ye'r poison."

#jasmine ft. interactions #jasmine ft. harry hook #princess jasmine

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itsss4t4n · 11 months ago

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How long is Forever? - Harry Hook x daughter of alice in wonderland

Headcanons but the longer version of this post:

a/n: this is based more on tim burtons aiw adaptation as it is the only one that i know, and i might have misremembered some of the story/ characters so i apologize if its inaccurate to wonderland or its characters in any way. I got way to invested in creating the character and story and almost forgot that that wasnt the point. At some point i think the character just completely changes and i low key hate it. Im really bad at writing headcannons instead of full fledged fics.

Trigger warnings: fighting, she /her pronouns used, slight angst toward the end but happy ending, not proofread

-being alices daughter you are considered kind of weird by the aks, (think luna lovegood), you are kind of dreamy and constantly in your own thoughts but you still have a very strong own opinion on everything. You say what you think even if others might not like that.

-You also have a very different sense of style than most girls in auradon. You played alot with different colours and textures always looking slightly crazy (you took inspiration from your godfather, the mad hatter). Your blonde hair was cut to a short messy bob with short bangs, and always changing coloured streaks throughout.

-you dont have the same view of good and bad as most others , and you dont think the vks should be judged by what their parents did and immediately try to befriend them and continuesly defend them

-when mal runs away to the isle you insist on joining the other vks and ben, as you do well in new and different invironments and later because you are an incredible sword fighter, your mother having thought you all she knows, just in case you ever needed to fight a jabberwookie type beast yourself.

-Due to your personal style not being very auradon, you didnt really have to disguise as much as ben when going to the isle.

-On the isle you felt surprisingly comfortable, as you liked the weird and almost liminal athmosphere that it had

-the first time you met harry was right after bens kidnapping, when harry came to tell you all about it.

-Harry has this theatrical almost a little eccentric way of talking and moving, which intruiged you pretty quickly. Of course , You didnt like or trust him, he did just kidnap one of your best friends, but you were intruiged non the less.

"And who is this little lassy?"

You told him your name with a glint of interest and mischif in your eyes. "Daughter of Alice in Wonderland."

"How interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Whats your Name?"

"Harry Hook." He introduced himself with adramatic bow, before making fun of jay and barking at carlos.

- The other three had watched the interaction in confusion and wonder. They knew you were a little odd but seeming this confortable with harry after knowing what he did to ben?

"What was that?!"

"What?"

"Dont be nice to hook! He just kidnapped your best friend!"

"yea.. But he is quite interesting." And as an afterthougt: "and kind of pretty dont you think?"

"NO! Concentrate please. He is the enemie alright?!"

"Yea whatever, lets go tell mal about this shit."

-You go with Mal and evie to see dizzy, and instantly get along.

-Later while Mal and Uma are talking (singing), you cant help your eyes from glancing over at harry every few seconds. He did look good, with his red coat, the old silver jook on his left hand, and the messy black eyeshadow around his striking blue eyes.

"He is really beutiful dont you think?" That question was mostly directed towards evie who just shot you a dissapproving look. "I'm just saying. purely aesthetically."

-You simply shrugged and watched the situation continue to unfold, swordhand on the hilt of your sword at your side. When the fight breaks out you stand against harry. For better of for forse.

"Hello Pretty boy." You raise you swordand get into a defensive position.

"Wonderland girl."

-You kept making little comments about his looks and his sword fighting which he of course returned in his own flirty way. You quite enjoyed going back and forth like that. Witty comments, smirks and flirty smiles, and fighting more for show at this point instead of actually trying to beat each other. Trying to make this surprisingly pleasant moment last as long as possible.

-until you heard an urgend shout of your name from Mal.

"Sorry in advance." In a quick movement you snatched harrys hook and threw it down into the water. Before a shoked Harry can jump after it you catch his arm and talk to him in a slightly hushed voice.

"I really hope this wasnt our last meeting pretty boy." Before running off with the others.

-You dont see each other again until Audrey turns evil, but you do still think about harry. Is it stupid considering you met like twice and he was you enemy? Yea. Did you care? not really. He was georgeous, funny, good with a sword. Your dream guy. Except for the fact that he was supposedly your enemy. but then again when had you ever cared about that kinda stuff.

-His black lined blue piercing eyes were burned into your brain.

-In the six months until you saw him again you had become mal and bens unofficial bodyguard, spening most of your time with them or with evie, your sword has taken permanent residence at your side, only taking it of to sleep or shower and even then it was always in grabbing distance. Mals paranoia about uma had actually started to get to you.

-You are at evies house when audrey shows up and spells mal. You join them in going back to the isle to retrieve hades ember.

-When your bikes get stolen you cant help but smile at the sight. Yea its shitty but he is still beautiful.

"Pretty boy!"

He drawls you name in his scottish accent and you mentally swoon.

"Thats my bike!"

"Oh yea? Come and get it back then." Before driving of.

-You run after them (except mal and celia ofc),and at one point you split upbecause the boys on the bikes did so. You follow harry and when the others are out of sight he slows to a stop. You catch up to him with a grin.

"Nice to see you again Hook. I was hoping we would meet again."

"I was too Lassie."

-The next 10-ish minutes are filled with flirty banter and tales of what happened in the last six months. It felt like you've known each other for years (as clichee as that sounds).

-You almost forgot why you were there until you heard jay shouting your name.

"Where are you, Mal got the thing come on."

You quickly turn to Harry again.

"Go! Before they see you and make it a whole thing."

"What bout your bike?"

"Keep it pretty boy, i doubt the others got theirs back so it would be weird if i did."

With a last sly grin harry leans towards you "I will see you again very soon."

Before you could question what 'very soon' meant, he had already driven of.

Just in time because Jay and the others turned the corner behind you.

"There you are! What are you doing? come on!"

"Sorry. Was chasing after the bike." You Give them a small smile before walking past them. "You coming?"

-To say you were surprised when harry and gil jumped through the barries after them would be an understatement.

"Pretty boy?!"

"'ello Darling. we're just coming for a wee visit"

-You tried , just like evie, to get the two groups to work together. Harry mostly walked next to you or Uma. At some point you hung back so he culd walk in between you and doesnt have to kep switching. He caught up with uma but still kept the constant flirts towards you up.

-Everyone was really confused on why you two seemed so good and almost comfortable around each other, not to mention the flirting. Evie was the only one who knew of your little crush so she send you a few knowing smirks.

-During the knight fight you and harry fought as a team. Incedibly well might i say.

-You were somewhat enthusiastic about evies icebreaker idea, enjoying the idea that the two groups could finally work together.

"Harry great accent."

"Shes right. It is a good accent."

-The flirting just wouldnt stop, comments thrown at each other, bumping shoulders while walking, even brushing your hands against each others on occasion. You had joined the boys in looking for ben.

"To make sure jay and harry dont kill each other."

-Gil doing the icebreaker and bonding with jay.

meanwhile you and harry in the background:

"We should do that icebreaker pretty boy."

"oh yea?"

"Yea. You've got really pretty eyes."

"And you are really good with a sword lass." His hook just slightly gracing your cheek before something in gil and jays conversation sparks his interest.

-When finding ben you had immediately pushed harry behind you and unsheathed your sword out of instinct. Jay has to pull both of you out of bens way because both of you got distrcated by how close you were standing to each other. After making sure ben was alright you made sure harry was too.

(instead of flirting with jane he flirts with you)

"Well well well, thank you for trying to protect me there darling." The hook was under you chin this time.

"No problem pretty boy." You smirk back.

Ben had his little freak out. Jay and carlos had one too for slightly different reasons.

"when did this happen? you and hook?"

You just shrugged and started walking off.

The boys just looked at eachother thouroghly confused.

-After everyone reuniting and you secretely updating evie on the harry situation you all made your way to fairy cottage. When you found chad you had to half hide in harrys shoulder to hide your laughter because god was it good to see chad taken down a few pecks like that.

-Then Mal dropped the bomb. Closing the barrier forever. You couldnt believe it. You were always a firm believer in the vk programm. And you had honestly hoped that even if harry etc were send back, they would get out someday, or you might go visit them. You considered them freinds at that point. But now that wasnt possible. You tried to comfort harry and uma in some way but it was to no avail.

"Im so sorry you guys... I didnt know." You had tears in your eyes yourself.

"Dont worry about it Darling. Its nae your fault." Placing his hand, his actual hand, on your cheek for a second, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. Before he walked of with uma.

"Harry....."

Mal was shocked to see your tears at the fact that harry was leaving. she had absolutely no idea this was a thing. It wasnt really. you didnt have enough time for it to actually become a thing. You watched harry and uma leave before evie walked up to you to hug you.

She talked to mal but you didnt want to listen.

suddenly there was a bright light before it went dark for a bit. When you came to again, Mal was gone. It didnt take you guys long to piece together what must have happened. so you went to find mal.

-You and harry were both incredibly relieved to see that the other was okay. *cue big hug and an almost kiss that turned into a kind of awkward cheek kiss before another hug *

-Harry announcing that he is actually going back to the isle felt like another punch in the gut. Again that sounds dumb considereing how little you actually knew each other but you didnt care.

-Harry and you talked before he left. He gave you one of his rings "so you wont forget me darling". So you give him one of yours "then dont you forget me either". *cue more crying and hugs, between all of you *

-Mal announcing that the barrier will be taken down during the engagement party was the best thing that couldve happened to you at that point.

"Looks like you get a chance with your pretty boy after all." Evie.

Uma to harry on the isle: "Now you can get your pretty girl, pretty boy." While bumbing his shoulder.

As soon as you could spot eachother on the bridge you ran into each others arms.

-Kith

-like a lot of em

-Your friends from both sides were incredibly happy for both of you.

#descendants x reader #descendants #disneys descendants #harry hook #harry hook x reader #alice in wonderland #alice in wonderland reader #writing #reader insert #fem reader

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herstoryheaven · 5 months ago

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Descendants Harry Hook x Reader: Scripted Romance, Unscripted Love

Request: Could you do one where the reader got casted as a new character in D2 and the reader is dating Harry on screen but ends up falling in love with Thomas behind screen idk just something behind the scenes with Harry.

Reader: Female

Word count: 2551

Average reading time: 9 min 20 sec

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Y/N had always dreamed of being in a Disney movie, so when she got cast as a new character in Descendants 2, she was over the moon. Her character was part of Uma's pirate crew, and to her surprise, her character was dating Harry Hook, played by the charming Thomas Doherty.

From the very first day on set, Y/N felt an instant connection with Thomas. There was an undeniable spark, an energy between them that made every interaction feel like fireworks. But she pushed the thought aside, assuming it was all part of their roles. After all, they were professionals, and they were supposed to have chemistry on screen. 'He’s just being professional', she would remind herself whenever he flashed that dazzling smile her way, or when his touch lingered a little too long during a scene.

One of their first scenes together involved a heated argument between their characters. Harry was supposed to grab her wrist and pull her close, the tension thick between them. As they rehearsed, Thomas kept breaking character, laughing and teasing her whenever she tried to be serious. “C’mon, love, where’s that fire I know ye’ve got?” he’d say, his accent thick and teasing.

Y/N would roll her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart raced whenever he called her "love". She forced herself to focus, channeling the anger her character was supposed to feel. But when they ran the scene for the cameras, and Thomas grabbed her wrist, pulling her close, the smirk on his face shifted into something deeper, something more intense.

“Look at ye, lass.” he murmured in his deep Scottish accent, his voice low and filled with something that felt all too real, “Stealin’ my heart both on and off the screen.” His eyes, a shade darker now, locked onto hers with an intensity that made her hold her breath.

Before she could respond, he lifted her hand to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. The kiss was gentle, his lips warm against her skin, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight through her. It wasn’t part of the script, wasn’t something they had rehearsed, but it felt natural, as if this moment had been building between them all along.

Y/N's breath hitched, and for a moment, she forgot they were surrounded by cameras and crew members. The world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, the heat of his gaze making her stomach flip. But then, the director called cut, and she forced herself to laugh it off as part of the act. Thomas, however, seemed to have other plans.

As filming continued, Y/N began to notice how Thomas was always around, even when he didn’t need to be. Between takes, he’d find reasons to talk to her, whether it was to joke about a scene or to compliment her on her performance. “You’re doing’ great, love.” he’d say with a wink, causing her heart to flutter every time.

Off-screen, Thomas’s attention only grew more intense. During lunch breaks, he would search for her in the crowd, always saving her a seat next to him. He’d share stories about his life in Scotland, asking her questions about her own life in a way that made her feel like she was the only person in the world. The way he listened to her, with genuine interest, made it harder and harder for her to dismiss her growing feelings.

Then there were the little gestures, things that could be easily overlooked as simple kindness but made Y/N’s heart race all the same. He started leaving little notes in her trailer, always signed with a playful heart or a cheeky "Yours, Harry." One day, after they had a particularly challenging scene, Y/N found a small bouquet of her favorite flowers waiting for her, with a note that read, “To brighten your day, love. – T.”

On breaks, he’d bring her snacks, always making sure they were her favorites, like the time he surprised her with her favorite chocolate bar, claiming he “just happened to find it” even though she knew it wasn’t easy to come by on set. During late-night shoots, when the temperature would drop, Thomas would drape his jacket over her shoulders without a word, his hand lingering just a moment longer than necessary on her arm. Each touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she’d find herself wearing his jacket long after she no longer needed it, just to keep his warmth close.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of filming, the cast decided to relax by having a small gathering. Thomas found Y/N sitting alone, watching the stars from a quiet spot away from the others. Without asking, he sat down beside her, their shoulders brushing.

“Long day, huh?” he said, his voice soft as he looked up at the sky with her.

“Yeah, but I’m getting used to it,” she replied, smiling at the thought of how far she had come since the first day.

Thomas turned to her, his gaze soft but intent. “I’m glad you’re here, love. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “Thanks, Thomas. That means a lot.”

The silence that followed was comfortable, but charged with something unspoken. She wanted to ask him if he meant more than just as co-stars, but the fear that it was all just him being friendly held her back. What if this was just his way of keeping things light on set? She was new, after all, and maybe this was just how he made everyone feel welcomed.

But then, there were those moments, moments that didn’t feel like they could be just for show. Like when they were filming a scene where Harry had to protect her character from a threat. The script only called for him to pull her behind him, but Thomas improvised, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close. Even after the director yelled cut, Thomas didn’t let go right away, his hand lingering at her side as he looked down at her with something that felt far too real to be just acting.

As the weeks passed, Y/N found herself falling for him more and more, despite her best efforts to remain professional. The way he treated her, the way he made her laugh, the way he seemed to see right through her… it was all too much to ignore. But that little voice of doubt kept creeping in, telling her that she was just another co-star, that he didn’t see her the way she saw him.

One day, during a particularly emotional scene where Harry had to comfort her character after a fight, Thomas went off-script again. Instead of just saying his lines, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheek as he whispered, “Ye deserve better, lass. I’d never let anyone hurt ye like that.”

The intensity in his eyes made it almost impossible for Y/N to stay in character. She felt tears welling up, not from the scene, but from the overwhelming emotions she was feeling in real life. When the director called cut, she quickly turned away, trying to compose herself. But Thomas followed her, his concern genuine as he asked, “You alright, love? Did I push too far?”

Y/N shook her head, forcing a smile. “No, it’s just… you’re really good at this, you know?”

Thomas smiled, but there was a hint of something more in his eyes. “So are you, Y/N. So are you.”

Despite all these moments, the fear that it was all just part of the job kept her from believing it could be anything more. What if he was just being nice? What if he didn’t really see her the way she saw him? But every time he looked at her, every time he called her "lass" or "love", that tiny spark of hope refused to die. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

-----

The last day of filming was bittersweet, and Y/N felt a deep, aching sadness settle in her chest as the reality of it all began to sink in. The entire cast had gathered for a wrap party, the air filled with laughter, music, and a sense of finality that she couldn’t quite shake. She tried to enjoy the night, but the thought that this might be the last time she’d see Thomas kept creeping into her mind. He’d return to his life, and she’d return to hers, and the thought of losing him, of losing the connection they had felt almost unbearable.

Thomas seemed unusually quiet as the night wore on, his eyes constantly following her across the room. He wasn’t his usual playful self, and it only made Y/N’s heart ache more. She kept trying to convince herself that this was just another chapter ending, but every time their eyes met, she felt something pull at her heart, begging her to reach out to him.

Needing a moment to clear her head, Y/N stepped outside to get some fresh air. The cool breeze was a welcome relief from the warmth of the party, but it did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. She wrapped her arms around herself, lost in thought, when she suddenly sensed someone nearby.

Looking up, she found Thomas waiting for her, leaning casually against the wall with that same boyish grin she’d come to adore. But there was something different about it tonight, something softer, more sincere.

“Y/N,” he called softly, his voice almost a whisper in the still night. “Come take a walk with me, love.”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding, her heart pounding as she fell into step beside him. They wandered away from the party, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty studio lot. The silence between them was heavy with unspoken words, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel that something monumental was about to happen.

Thomas was quiet for a long time, his usual easy confidence replaced by a tension she had never seen in him before. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and broke the silence.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” he began, his voice uncharacteristically nervous. He stopped walking, turning to face her, and Y/N’s heart raced as she saw the serious expression on his face.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of hope and fear swirling in her chest.

Thomas took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. His touch was warm, tender, and it made her heart skip a beat. His eyes searched hers, as if trying to find the right words, the right way to say what he had been holding back for so long.

“I’ve had a hard time keeping this to myself.” he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “But… I’m not just acting when I look at you, love.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she processed his words, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “What do you mean?” she managed to ask, her voice trembling with a mixture of hope and disbelief.

Thomas took another step closer, their bodies almost touching now, and the intensity in his gaze made her knees weak. “I mean that I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. Not just as Harry, but as me, Thomas. I care about you, more than I can explain. And I was wondering if maybe… you felt the same way?”

For a moment, Y/N was too stunned to speak. All this time, she had convinced herself that he only saw her as a co-star, a friend at best. But here he was, standing in front of her, confessing the very thing she had been too afraid to admit to herself. The realization hit her like a wave, washing away all the doubts and fears she had been holding onto.

“I… I do feel the same way.” she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve liked you for so long, but I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Thomas’s face lit up with that familiar grin, but this time, there was a softness to it, a vulnerability that made her heart swell with affection. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate.

The world seemed to disappear as Y/N melted into him, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck as she pulled him closer. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her as if he never wanted to let go. The kiss was everything she had imagined and more, filled with all the unspoken feelings they had both been holding back for so long. It was soft and sweet, but there was an intensity to it a deep, burning need that made her toes curl.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Thomas rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as if savoring the moment. His smile never faded, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, her heart overflowing with happiness.

“Guess we don’t have to pretend anymore, aye?” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of relief and joy.

Y/N laughed softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as she looked up at him, her eyes shining with affection. “No, we don’t.”

Thomas leaned in to kiss her again, this time slower, savoring every second as if they had all the time in the world. Y/N felt like she was floating, her heart so full she thought it might burst. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it was real, it was even better than she could have ever imagined.

As they walked back to the party, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like she was living in a dream, one where the pirate with the hook had stolen her heart for good. The night air was cool around them, but she felt warm from head to toe, the warmth of his hand in hers grounding her in the reality of it all.

When they reached the door, Thomas paused, turning to face her once more. “Y/N, I meant every word I said. This isn’t just a set romance for me. I want to be with you off-screen, in the real world. Whatever that looks like, wherever it takes us, I want it to be with you.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, and she nodded, her heart swelling with a love she could no longer deny. “I want that too, Thomas. More than anything.”

With one last lingering kiss, they rejoined the party, their hands still entwined, their hearts forever bound. And as they laughed and danced the night away with their friends, Y/N couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. This was just the beginning of their story, a story that was real, that was theirs. And as they looked into each other’s eyes, she knew that this was a love that would last far beyond the final cut.

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