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lowkeyorloki · 4 years

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lbd

After a fight with Loki, you wear the smallest dress you can to an Avengers press event...

(smut smut smut)

The party was awful.

Stark’s press events often were. It was interesting, how the media had changed over the past eight years. In 2012, you and the rest of the Avengers would only be seen on news stations. Now, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to for your names to be in tabloids next to celebrities like Taylor Swift or Noah Centineo. The team wasn’t just heroes anymore, you were public figures as well.

Hence the formal attire, the flashing cameras, the expensive wine. These events only happened about once a year- they were manageable. Just a pain. Besides, you always had Loki to endure them with.

Except, not tonight. And so, the party was awful, not just boring.

The argument you had with Loki last night carried over into today, and when you were asking him about the event, he gave you no answer. Never in a million years did you think he would ignore during this. The press, the world, had never really forgiven him for New York. He was hated by the general public. It didn’t help it was a well-known fact he was with you: you, the youngest Avenger. You, who had been America’s golden girl until Loki corrupted you.

That was what everyone liked to say. Really, you just got older. And cynical. You couldn’t fight the worst of the worst throughout the universe and remain idealistic.

You and Loki had to stick together for public appearances. The reporters tore you to shreds if you didn’t. And besides that... You didn’t like not being around the god. It was so much better to face things with him. You were together. Even when things were tense, the two of you could always lean on each other. That was the nature of your relationship.

And yet, here you were, halfway through your third glass of champagne, giving Steve a half-hearted smile as he spoke. Every so often, your eyes scanned the large hall, eventually falling on Loki. He avoided your gaze each time.

You wanted to be angry, or bitter. That’s what you felt earlier today when he wouldn’t speak to you. Loki wordlessly dressed in his suit, looked you up and down in your floor length dress, and left your shared room. In a fit of rage, you had dug through your closet for something that would anger him. No, not anger. That wasn’t the right word.

Entice him. Make him protective. Despite your life with him, you were still seen as the innocent Avenger. The normal girl who stumbled into justice. You never wore short or form fitting clothes anywhere there would be cameras. You were modest. That was the role you were pidgeonholed into. Social media, combined with constant interest and exposure, ensured that. In 2020, half of being an Avenger was perception. Every team member was an archetype. Every team member adhered to that. Outwardly, at least.

So when nothing in your closet would accomplish what you wanted, you raided Natasha’s. She helped you pick out something no one would expect you to wear: A silky black body con dress. When you tried it on, it barely came halfway down your thighs. There was little left to the imagination, considering its length and low neckline.

You paired it with heels, and painted your nails Loki’s shade of green. Natasha gathered your hair into a messy bun, leaving your neck exposed. Even Wanda joined in, brushing sparkles over your collarbone. You looked unlike you ever had before.

Honestly, you looked like Natasha did on a daily basis. That brought you some amount of comfort, knowing you wouldn’t be sticking out. But it went without saying you didn’t look like yourself, and no one had ever seen you like this. The press would have a field day.

But it wasn’t them you cared about. The only person you were thinking about was Loki.

And he didn’t even do a double take. When you first walked into the room, his eyes rested on you just a second. Then he turned away.

So you didn’t find yourself angry like you were just a few hours before this. When Loki ignored you, you only felt... Sad. Empty, almost. You had been upset with each other for less than a full day, but you missed him. If there was no animosity between you two, Loki’s hand would be on the small of your back right now, and he would be whispering into your ear. Sharing jokes about everyone at the party, wrapped up in each other.

You fought so little. It was something you weren’t used to.

“Hey.” Steve sticks an elbow into your ribs, pulling you from your thoughts. Next to him, Bucky wears a worried expression. “You okay?”

You sigh. Tipping your head back, you drain the rest of your drink and then nod.

“I’m fine, Steve.” he looks uncertain. “I mean it. I can last one night without him. Just because I’m in a relationship doesn’t mean I’m any less independent.”

“I believe that.” Steve agrees.

“You only believe her because that’s how you are.” Bucky grins at Steve, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from Captain America. Steve smiles, just barely, and holds Bucky’s hand in his own after the dark-haired man pulls back. Your eyes flicker away, but a genuine smile grows on your lips. You love to see your friends happy. They deserve it, your whole team does.

It’s moments like these, when Steve is focused on Bucky and you on Loki, you remember you and Steve used to date. It seems like a completely different time, but it wasn’t even ten years ago.

You were with Steve when Loki attacked New York.

“I’m going for a refill.” you state. Both men look uncertain. You pay it no mind. “Do either of you want anything?”

They shake their heads in response, so you make your way over to the bar. There’s no one there, not even the bartender, which bothers you at first. Then you realize it’s exactly what you need. Just a few minutes alone to clear your head. The bar is in same room as everyone else, so classical music and conversation are all around you. Still, you manage to find solace.

It’s quickly interrupted.

“Hello, darling.”

Loki.

His breath tickles the back of your neck as he speaks. As soon as you’re aware of his presence, his smell envelops you. You shiver, noticing how close he must be to you.

You don’t turn around.

“Hi Loki.” you greet him back, eyes forward. You voice almost shakes, and you exhale, willing yourself to keep cool. Loki was always so calm and collected, something he used as a weapon. Clearly, even against you.

Loki hums, and his fingers softly begin to dance over your bare shoulder.

“You look different,” he states. “With those shoes, you almost reach my height. But darling, you have never looked so small.” Loki’s voice drops on that last word, and a wave of heat flashes through your body. You set your glass down on the counter next to you, worried whatever Loki does next will cause you to drop it.

“Funny.” you say. “I don’t feel small.” You know Loki, know what the word small is code for. “Or weak.”

Loki tuts, and his large hands slide from your shoulders to your hips. Your dress is so short that his pinkies lay on your bare skin.

“No, I suppose you don’t.” Loki leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he talks. You can’t help it, you tremble, your surroundings beginning to fade away as you focus on the god. “I bet you felt quite powerful, teasing me in this dress. Talking to Steve Rogers.” Suddenly, Loki pulls you into him, and you gasp. His length presses completely against your ass, and you are barely able to bite back a moan.

This is harder than you’ve ever felt him. Your breathing becomes hitched, but Loki’s strong grip keeps you glued to him. His fingers dig into your hips, and you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

“Did you think,” Loki rolls his hips against you, causing a mewl to escape your lips. “...that I would forget your past with Rogers? That it had just, slipped my mind that he is the only man you have ever laid with besides myself?” Loki’s lips connect with the crook of your neck, pressing wet kisses there that are anything but gentle. “Or was that the point? To make me jealous?” Loki’s next words shake you the most. “Can you even count the amount of times I have been inside you?”

Just like that, his hands relax, and you begin to catch your breath.

“Smile.” Loki points, and you notice the groups of reporters making their way to you, cameras flashing. Loki pivots, turning both of you so you face the them. He drops one hand to his side, but the other snakes around your waist. It won’t be obvious in the photos, but his fingers are dangerously close to your heat, filling you to the brim with want.

Just as you manage to get yourself under control, the cameras begin flashing. You force a smile, and when you look at Loki, he’s staring straight ahead, expressionless.

You hated getting photos taken, knowing the headlines they would be paired with. But Loki hates it even more. You were always the victim in the media’s eyes, but Loki had never outgrown the villain. He worked so hard to be good, so hard to change. And for what? No one believed him, save for you and his brother.

Your heart grows heavy, and despite the fight, despite the teasing that left you melting in his arms, you want Loki to know you appreciate him.

You tug on the front of his suit jacket, capturing his attention. Loki looks down at you, confusion in his eyes. You reach forward, placing your hand on the back of his neck and tugging him down so his lips met yours.

It was filthy, the way he kissed you in front of the press. Loki once again pulled you to him, your chests pressed together. He laid his hand on your back, and thank god he did, because it kept you grounded. Your teeth clacked together more than once, and Loki gave you no opportunity to gather yourself before he sucked on your bottom lip. Your were eyes closed, but you still heard as the reporters went wild, cameras snapping as they each tried to get the juiciest shot.

Loki was the one who ended the kiss, tugging away from you. He took your hand in his, waving with the other. In the crowd, you could see Steve standing in shock, arm around Bucky’s waist. Stark was next to them, looking furious.

Loki makes eye contact with you before he briskly walks away, tugging you with him. You have no time to ask where it is he’s taking you before you somehow slip into the kitchen unnoticed.

The kitchen staff stops, and you realize what this must look like to them. Loki, with a hungry look in his eyes, and you, swollen lips and practically half-naked. Jesus, was this where you thought the night was going?

“Get out.” Loki addresses the staff. They share glances, unsure of whether to listen. Loki sighs. “We are two hours into a four hour party. No one ever comes for food, they just want to drink. You are no longer needed. Now, get,” Loki’s irises flash green. “...out.”

They listen then, rushing out of the doors and through the backroom that will lead them from the building. The locks on each door click shut, surely a result of Loki’s magic.

“You.” you squirm under the god’s harsh gaze. “Are a very. Stupid. Girl.” with each step Loki takes forward, you take one backwards, until your back is against the tiled wall. Your heart begins beating fast. You look to Loki’s pants, taking in the tent. Your heart rate accelerates even more.

He places his hands on the wall, one on either side of your face, trapping you with him. Wordlessly, Loki begins sucking on your collarbone, his lips moving down your breasts until they hit the neckline on your dress. Your eyes roll back, and you grip Loki’s hair tight. He rams his knee in between your thighs, and you cry out.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he rolls his hips, and now that you’re alone, you can feel and experience it to the fullest expense. Your mouth falls open as Loki presses his clothed length against your clothed sex, moaning and letting out a string of curses. “Look at me, darling.” You listen, obeying Loki as he removes his knee.

Loki makes full eye contact as he takes your left breast in his hands, kneading and massaging you as he gauges your reactions. You begin panting, and soon enough, Loki grabs the front of your dress with both hands and rips it, exposing your bare breasts.

You hiss at the sudden cold, but it doesn’t last long as Loki sucks on your nipple, running his calloused thumb other the other. Loki swirls his tongue, and you whimper, arching your back. As the sensation builds inside you, Loki takes a steps back, drinking in the sight of you.

“The media won’t soon forget this. Until now, the worst they had caught us doing was holding hands.” he growls. His lips are redder than usual, and his hair was messy because of your fingers in it. “I can imagine the scolding from Stark.”

“Who cares about Stark? You just ruined Natasha’s dress.” you say, your voice strained. His absence is noticeable, and your body aches for Loki’s touch. He raises an eyebrow.

“Sweet girl, whose fault is that? None of this would ever have happened if you simply dressed appropriately.” the hair on your arms stands up. Loki hums. “I think you should make it up to me. You got us into this mess, did you not?” Loki smirks.

The feeling in your stomach builds up again, lust taking over you. You take off you heels, and sink to your knees. Loki’s pupils dilate as you move closer to him.

You unbuckle his belt, sliding it off and discarding it on the floor next to you. Slowly, you unbutton Loki’s dress pants, your fingers catching on the tip of his underwear as you do.

You want to draw this out, to tease Loki as he teased you. But when you see his hard length, and the damp spot on the cloth holding it, you can’t bring yourself to. Loki is a god, much stronger and faster than you. When you turn to dust, Loki will be as young and full of life as he is now.

But his needs are the same as any other man’s. You’re determined to fulfill them.

You brush your mouth over him, causing Loki’s eyes to close momentarily. When they do, you waste no time exposing him. Loki fingers run through your hair immediately, grasping tightly. You can hear his breathing become just a bit irregular.

You keep your eyes on Loki’s as you lick him, from shaft to head. You lap at the precum there, then slowly take him into your mouth.

Loki lets out a sigh, his lips parting, and you rub circles onto his hipbones with your thumbs. You bring your arms against your chest, pushing your bare breasts up to make them appear bigger. You want to give Loki the best view possible.

It must have worked, because Loki’s hips buck forward. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you almost gag. Instead, you moan around him. setting a slow pace. Every so often, you flick your tongue across his head, and Loki tugs on your hair when you do.

Loki quivers, and he’s thrown his head back now. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth open, and he looks so pleased. Pride washes over you at the thought of you making him feel this way.

You bring your hand up, taking the parts of Loki that your mouth just can’t reach. With the added freedom, you circle his tip, switching up the pressure and surrounding him with your warmth. Carefully, you cup his balls, making sure every part of him is paid attention to.

Loki groaned as you fucked him with your mouth, cheeks hallowed. He begins panting, holding your head even tighter. His shirt has ridden up over his navel, and the sight nearly drives you crazy.

“I’m going to-” you don’t let him finish, picking up the pace until Loki jerks forward, spilling his seed with a curse.

There’s so much, some dribbles out the corners of your mouth before you can swallow it all. Your chests warms at the idea of part of Loki being inside you. You’ve barely leaned back to catch your breath before he’s pulled you up and into a kiss, groaning as he tastes himself on you. Your body becomes slack, relying entirely on Loki’s for support.

“You’re insatiable.” he says into your mouth. He picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Loki carries you to a nearby counter and sets you atop it.

Your dress is hiked up to your hips now, leaving you covered in just a g-string. As Loki begins to take it off, you stop him.

“Wait.” you say. He stops, giving you a surprisingly soft look. “I just...” you splay your hands across Loki’s strong chest. “I want to see you too.” your voice is quiet.

Loki places his hands over yours as you unbutton his shirt. You slide it down his shoulders, then trace his collarbones and curve of his abs. Under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, Loki looks even more pale than usual, the sharp contours of his body illuminated and exposed.

You never grow bored of the sight of him.

Now fittingly bare, Loki’s fingers travel up your thigh and stop at your sex. Similar to you, his gives you a few strokes over your thong before he rids you of it in one fluid motion. He angles himself to you, his tip teasing your entrance as he smirks at your noises.

He enters you all at once. You bite down on his shoulder, nails raking down his back. You hold tight to Loki as he sinks into you, moving in a slow and almost tantalizing way. There’s sweat on both of your bodies, and despite your exposed state, you feel yourself heat up.

Loki’s rhythm increases as you adjust to him. His hips move back and forth, and your bodies move in tandem, made for each other. You coo into Loki’s ears, moaning about how good he felt. How breathless he made you, how only he knew how to make you feel this way. No one knew your body like Loki.

The coil inside you finally snaps as Loki hits a pleasure spot deep inside you, and you let out a cry into his shoulder. Loki cums not long after, his body going tense as he rides out the wave of pleasure.

He holds you, rubbing your back as the aftershock rocks through your body. You shake, exhausted and satisfied as you close your eyes for a moment of rest.

Eventually, Loki sets you back down on the floor. He tugs your dress down over your legs, and tucks stray pieces of hair behind your ears. You watch him wordlessly, allowing him to take of you.

After Loki is dressed himself, he gives you the jacket of his suit to wear.

“Oh.” you look down, remembering he ripped your dress. You slip the jacket on, buttoning it to protect the little modesty you have left.

He takes your hand, leading you to the door and back into the party. Before he does, you stop.

“I’m sorry about our fight.” you say. Loki lets out a chuckle, making you feel silly.

“Oh, sweet girl. After a tryst like this, I can assure you all is forgiven.”

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comfortwriting · 3 years

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A Triwizard Baby Part 2 - F.W

Masterlist, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Taglist

This is Part 2 of The Triwizard Baby Series, you can read part 1 here.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Pregnancy, Mention of Abortion, alcohol.

"Oh come on, Y/N." Fred begged again "Please!"

"I said no!" You hissed, slapping Fred's hand away from you, storming past him and hurrying to the bathroom, feeling more nauseous than ever.

Clutching your stomach, you fell down onto your knees and hurled yourself over the toilet, vomiting up your porridge and pumpkin juice. At the moment, mornings were cruel to you - your stomach would churn and you had to endure feeling sick, and most often vomiting up your food. You didn't think anything of it, you told yourself you got food poisoning, or one of your potions had bad side effects, but in reality, as you discovered, food and potions weren't responsible for your morning sickness - Fred's baby was.

"Miss Y/L/N, it appears that you're pregnant." Madame Pomfrey announced, handing you the strange plastic stick, pointing at the tiny circle window with a plus sign inside that stared up at you.

You put your head in your hands and sighed, starting to shake, tears filling your eyes.

"I-I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I don't know"

"Do you want to terminate the pregnancy?"

"I-I don't know, just give me time to think."

Wracking your brain and trying to think of how you could explain this to your parents, and thinking about your future, Madame Pomfrey walked across the room, sorting through various potions, you could hear the glass bottles knocking over and clinking against one another. Walking back over to you, she handed you a deep purple potion that was misty and looked sparkly when hit by the light.

"Take this once a day, each morning until you know what you want. This potion will hide any indication of pregnancy as the weeks pass by. You'll still experience the usual side effects, but the most this will do is hide your growing bump."

"The usual side effects?" you scoffed "You're saying this as if this has happened to me before, I-"

Madame Pomfrey shook her head at you "You're in here, in a complete pickle on your own because of Fred Weasley" she said quietly, in case any students were now inside the hospital wing.

You swallowed hard, was your love for him that obvious?

"You're not the first girl of his to end up here" she grumbled "And I doubt you'll be the last!"

Fred knocked other girls up? Who? Did you know them? Did they secretly keep the baby?

Everything started to make your head spin, even more, you pulled the top off the potion and necked a tiny drop down, it tasted bitter yet spicy, you could feel a tingling in your tummy.

"If you run out, you know where to find me," Madame Pomfrey said, ushering around you, fluffing up pillows and making the beds "Now, you better be off!"

You were in shock - not just about being pregnant and hiding it, but the whole night in general from what you could remember. One minute you were snogging your best friend, being cheered on by everyone around you, the next minute you were having sex, then you woke up in the morning with a pounding headache and a hangover from hell - which led you to this moment: you were already one month into your pregnancy, and no one aside from Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore knew.

You didn't want to terminate the pregnancy, but you didn't want to raise the child either, you felt lost and afraid, and you had no one to talk to - but in the next week or so, you would either have the support of your family or you would be disowned.

"What's up with her?" George asked Fred, looking around after waiting for you to return to the great hall.

"I don't know, Georgie." Fred answered, feeling pissed off "She's been more distant, after the first task she just.. she's changed."

Fred couldn't remember anything from that night, the next morning he woke up and you were already out of his bed, and no one mentioned what happened because they were going through hangovers from hell too - what did they expect? you were the master of drinking games, and no one could ever keep up with you.

You couldn't face Fred after the night you shared together, your brain warned you to stay away from him, to run in the other direction - screaming, whilst your heart cried for him, calling out his name and screaming at you - begging you to run to him with open arms.

You were frightened, alone, and felt ashamed, how could you bring a child up so young during your studies? how could you tell your best friend that you were carrying his child? how could you explain that you were now forever tied to him whether he liked it or not? You decided that you shouldn't and wouldn't tell him, from what you knew of - Fred couldn't remember what happened that night and you were satisfied, the least he could remember the better.

"Probably her time of the month or something, Freddie, don't overthink it."

Fred sighed "Well I’ve been planning to ask Angelina to the ball, I thought she'd get jealous when I took my time to ask her, but she didn't care."

George nodded, trying to think about what could have caused you to be so distant and moody, even George knew your periods and mood swings weren't that bad.

"I'm not giving up on her though" Fred continued, crossing his arms "by the end of the week she'll be on my arm, I can't turn up to watch the Yule Ball without a lass now can I?"

Tomorrow was The Yule Ball, a formal dance held on the evening of Christmas Day. Before realising you were pregnant, you had picked out a dress, you even got excited with the possibility that Fred would ask you - but now you needed to avoid him at all costs, seeing his face and turning him down once more would hurt your heart more than it deserved.

After taking a shower, you stared at your tummy through the mirror, realising that in a couple of weeks time, it would become more obvious that you were pregnant, and remember that you would need to rely on the potion to keep things a secret.

"Okay" you whispered to yourself "Don't forget, don't let the brain fog get you into trouble."

Drying yourself, you pulled on your clothes, constantly repeating the potion, and your plan in your head.

Walking out of the common room and down the stairs, turning around and walking down the hall, a loud whistle made you jump, Fred was following you.

"Don't ignore me, love, you know it's rude."

You glared at Fred, your heart and head both at war just by the sight of him and the sound of his voice.

"The answer is still no Fred, just leave me alone."

Don't look at him, don't get attached to his baby - stop it - just keep walking.

"Is it seriously too much to ask?" Fred hissed "It's just Yule Ball, not a bloody date!"

"I'm aware, Fred!" you raised your voice, feeling stressed, sick, and drained "No, I'm not going with you, just please - leave me alone."

Fred didn't chase after you, he stopped in his tracks and burned holes in the back of your head. He didn't understand, why were you avoiding him? why did you suddenly hate him after being best friends, inseparable for so many years? did he say something wrong? did he look at you funny? he didn't know, and he couldn't put his finger on the strange feeling clawing inside him.

Fred’s heart split in two, and he wouldn’t let you get away with doing this - he would get you back in the cruellest way possible, he had to make you jealous.

“Fine!” he yelled at you “I’ll ask someone else! Someone worth my time!”

The Yule Ball was underway, Fred had managed to ask out Angelina, Hermione with Krum, everyone with a partner - even those who weren’t happy about it, like Ron and Harry. You, however, were sat in the empty Hospital Wing, with Madame Pomfrey and your parents.

The huge lump kept forming in your throat, no matter how many times you kept swallowing it down. You couldn't keep still, your feet were tapping against the floor and you kept picking at the thread on your skirt.

"So what seems to be the issue?" your mum asked politely.

You stared at the thread, avoiding all eye contact.

Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat "Well, Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, you have been called into this meeting today as you need to be made aware of something that involves your daughter, Y/N. This matter will give us all plenty to discuss, and plenty of choices for Y/N to decide."

"What is it, sweetheart?" your dad asked, holding the hand of his wife.

Tears welled in your eyes again, your vision going like Harry's before the Gilliweed would take effect in a few months time.

"Please don't get mad" you croaked, finally looking up at your parents, staring at their concerned, soft faces "I-I'm pregnant."

Your parents went quiet, exchanging looks, appearing to be concerned, and quite shocked, but they understood - and they were going to get you through this.

“I know you’re scared, Y/N,” your mother said softly “You’re so young, raising a baby whilst being a baby - our baby - yourself.”

“We were young parents,” your father added quietly “it wasn’t easy, but we pulled through, we will support you, please don’t be ashamed.”

“The worst thing is” you choked, tears falling onto your skirt “I don’t even have the heart to tell him, he can’t remember what happened.”

Your mum got out of her seat and hurried over to you, pulling you into her arms, stroking your head as you wept, reassuring you.

“Is Fred the father?” Your mum asked under her breath, hoping her husband wouldn’t add him to his hit-list.

You nodded your head “yes” you sniffled “he is.”

“Now,” Madame Pomfrey huffed “I don’t want you going to that ball, you need to keep yourself safe, the baby needs to be safe.”

Well, you can’t join the dance or drink the spiked punch, but that doesn’t mean you can’t watch from a distance, does it?

Sitting down at the table behind Harry and Ron’s, you watched everyone dance with smiles on their faces, falling in love with their date for the night. You felt left out, quite bummed, and worst of all, you now had to watch the love of your life, the father of your child, mess with you on purpose.

Fred’s eyes meet with yours, his pained heart softens for a moment before remembering what you had done to him, and how you would get what you deserved. Dancing with Angelina, Fred gripped her hand, smirking at you before pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

It felt as if time had stood still, your heart - like Fred’s - split in half, tears formed in your eyes and you felt sick, mortified, and betrayed. Pushing your chair out from the table, you got to your feet and ran away, leaving everyone behind as you rushed to the common room.

How could he do this to you? Why would he do this!

You felt stupid, you were getting attached to his child when you wanted nothing more than to be free - but this baby was the only piece of Fred you could ever have, and for all his faults, and mind games, you wanted to be close to him in any way that you could, no matter what.

Bursting into the common room, George gave you a sympathetic look, stopping his conversation with his friend Matt.

“You alright love?” he asked, his ginger hair lighter from the flickering flames.

You wanted to tell him, tell somebody, you couldn’t hide this anymore.

“Are you?” you asked, walking over them, sitting down on the floor by the fire.

“Not really, no” George replied “My twin brother is dancing with the girl I love, bit shit really.”

“Why have you been so distant?” Matt asked, “George and Fred are worried about you.”

This was it, you had to tell them, your words coming up like vomit.

“After the first challenge, when we attended that party when Fred and I kissed - that night went much further - I’m... I’m pregnant with his kid.” You admitted quietly “I don’t know what to do, I’m in love with him, and he can’t remember a thing, and he’s dancing with Angelina - he snogged her infront of me knowing I was watching him!”

You started to cry, hurt and fury ignited inside of George, everything starting to make sense - your absence, your morning sickness, you constantly clutching your tummy in protection when people bumped into you.

“Are you going to tell him?” George asked.

You shook your head “No, and the both of you aren’t going to tell him either, you need to promise me.”

George loved Fred, hell, twins are inseparable for crying out loud, but right now, George didn’t care about his loyalty to Fred, he hated him, he fucked you over and will most likely be fucking his crush tonight.

“I promise” he muttered, “it’s no one else choice, but yours.”

“That goes for who you tell, and for what you decide is best for you and the baby,” Matt added.

Feeling slightly better, you got to your feet and pulled Matt in for a quick hug, and then pulled George in for a close and warm embrace “thank you” you whispered in his ear, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Now three months pregnant, you were heavily reliant on the potion that deflated your bump, the only person to see it was George - who teared up and rested his hand upon it, wishing you were with someone better than his stupid brother.

Fred leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, staring at you and George talking, why was it that you acted as if he didn’t exist yet you were all over his brother? Was he fucking you behind his back? Did you prefer the twin you didn’t know as much over your best friend? Is this why his twin avoided him at all costs?

With the second challenge only a day away, Fred wanted to patch things up with you in time so he wouldn’t have to go to the second challenge alone, although he asked Angelina to the ball - and they had a good time - she wasn’t you, and he missed you more than he would like to admit.

Walking past to go to Divination, Fred stepped out in front of you, stopping you from getting past.

“Quite fond of Georgie now, aren’t you?”

“Let me through, Fred, I don’t want to be late.”

“Only if you go to the second challenge with me” he smirked, getting his hopes up.

You scoffed “Looks like I’ll have to skip this class then.” You turned your back on Fred, walking away from him, leaving him to feel frustrated and pissed off.

Missing out on the challenge, you went through everything you needed to buy for the baby and everything you would need to learn to make sure you were the most amazing mum. You were content with your decision to keep it, that little piece of Fred you could nurture forever.

With Harry succeeding down to moral fibre, you knew there would be endless parties tonight - Fred fucking another girl, probably getting her pregnant as he did you, just to not remember and move on to the next girl.

You loved him so much, but you hated him at the same time.

Feeling yourself finally doze off to sleep, the lights in your doom room flicked on, and heavy feet thundered into the room, startling you and waking you up. Your best friend and her mini group brought the party to you, holding a bottle of fire whiskey with your name on it.

“Get up Y/N!” she yelled, jumping on your bed and bouncing, the other girls cheering and laughing in the back.

You clutched onto your bump, the potion wearing off as it did in the night.

Sitting up in your bed, your best friend got on her knees, opening the bottle and shoving it in your face, the scent of the drink you swallowed down like water making you sick to your stomach - reminding you of the night you had too much.

“DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!” Your friends chanted.

“No!” you hissed “I can’t!”

The rim of the bottle hit your lips, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I can’t!” you yelled, silencing them “I’m pregnant!”

The girls stopped and stared at you, fire whiskey spilling out of the bottle and onto your bedsheets. Your heart thumped, your best friend’s eyes were wider than you had ever seen.

“Y/N is having a baby!” Katie squeezed in excitement, jumping on the bed, clapping her hands.

Thanks to Katie, the shock dissipated, and your friends were now supporting you, rubbing your back as you cried, and going through the list of baby things you needed: clothes, nappies, bottles, food, a crib, a pram. They were more excited than you, already arguing over whether it would be a girl or a boy, and who would be the better auntie.

They had a feeling that you didn’t want to tell them everything just yet - and luckily enough, they didn't make you, for now - they just wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, that you were surrounded by help if you ever needed it.

Fred stumbled into his dorm room, fire whiskey on his lips, and red lipstick marks on his neck. His brother George, and friend Matt sat on their beds and glared at him, the two of them looking so angry Fred was convinced they were going to rip his head off.

Fred shrugged his shoulders and got into bed - he had the worst night imaginable - every girl he kissed wasn’t you, his heart didn’t mend - it just broke even more, and from what he gathered - you and George were seeing each other behind his back.

He closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep, and met you in his dreams - holding you close, and swearing that he would never let you go.

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

Don’t look down, Baby Part 1/3

Dean x reader

Summary : Dean told her to ignore the “thing” between them and to jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but him.

When we think of a guy our Y/n could be with, longing for Dean, it’s usually a nice dude, a little boring, right ? Because who can compete with Dean ? Now, what if this guy was as badass as Dean ?

Characters : Dean Winchesters, Sam Winchester, Reader, Abraham Hale (OC)

Warnings : Angst, jealous Dean, Smut (unprotected sex -you’re smarter than this !-, oral, also kinda lame sex if it’s a warning), cheating, swearing, smoking, drinking... More warnings in the second part.

Wordcount : 6k (yes, just the part one... now you get why I cut it.)

Note : So for the Aestetic, I used the face of Jax Teller from Sons Of Anarchy, and you have to know, even if Abraham Hale looks like him, he is totally an OC.

This is writen both in Reader and Dean’s Pov. Dean’s thought are in italic.

Text divider by the talented @talesmaniac89

Jay’s Masterlist

September 16, 10:33pm

Dean’s POV

I always thought that when Y/n finds a guy, it would be the perfect douche I wanted for her. Some nice dude named Robert, a cop maybe, or a realtor with a friendly family.

He would annoy me to death with his stories about growing up in a farm, and call her Pumpkin. He would worry a little when she goes out with us because he thinks we drink too much when we’re together.

He would tear her from me and I would hate him for that. She would skip a hunt to meet his parents, another to spend a few days in the cabin he rented… But even if it breaks my heart, it would be exactly what I want for her, so I would let her go.

I had it all planned.

But, of course, she didn’t play by the rules.

And that guy is no Robert…

His loud manly laugh tears me from my thoughts. His tattooed hand wraps around his whiskey glass and I turn my head to that waitress that always gives me warm smiles, she’s staring at him now, with the sweetness that was once for me.

Abe.

Ex-gang member, Abe. Bad guy turned good. Raised by the widow of a gang member, in a violent environment, he already had a criminal record at fourteen, started selling guns before he was officially allowed to drink, ended up in prison at Twenty-two.

Sweet smile Abe. Reformed bad boy with an attitude. Became a hunter after he met a vampire gang and slew them to the last. Now defender of the good citizen, he found his fight, and the hunters talk about him as one of the bests.

Afraid of nothing and ready to fight, charismatic, alpha Abe. His muscular arm in the back of my girl, his long blond hair falling on his face when he lights up a cigarette in a grunt of content while she touches his neck.

Abe. My new nemesis.

“So Dean” he says with his deep voice hoarse from smoking too much. “How did you meet my girl ?”

I met her on a hunt, invited her to my room and took her on that wall. Do you remember, Y/n ? Don’t look down baby, look at me.

“On a hunt.”

“That’s how I met her too” he smiles and kisses her temple. “Seems like we have a lot in common.”

“Looks like we do” I state.

Her eyes darken and she turns her head, I know how to read her, she is pissed, and I don’t even know why. I did nothing, I said nothing, and her rock-and-roll version of prince charming is worshiping her, so what causes that bitterness ?

What is it, baby ? Am I missing something ?

“So I heard your brother and you have this fucking palace ?” he gives me a corner smile, smoke coming out of his nose.

“Who told you that ?” I grunt.

What is the point of a secret bunker if it is as secret as a freaking tweet ?

He chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey, not answering.

Abe never answers all the questions he is asked, maybe it is some cool thing for guys like him, maybe it is his way of look mysterious or powerful. What is sure is, as annoying as it is, it freaking works. But each time he smirks with his eyes lost in the bottom of his glass in a little huff instead of speaking, I get closer to losing it and smashing his pretty face on the table.

“I told him” she says almost coldly. “Like you did all your friends, Abe is my boyfriend, Dean.”

I nod. What can I say, she’s right after all. She’s always right…

She was right about that cop being the bad guy the first time we hunted together, right about the fact that my so-called bond with Amara would fade the second she gets whatever she wanted. She was right about Jack being a good kid but dangerous enough to need to be watched and educated instead of pushed away. Right about Mary hurting me more than I admitted…

She was right when she said I was wrong. The day I told her we shouldn’t sleep together again, that she should just ignore that thing between us and jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but me…

I really say that : any of them. I did.

Did you choose Abe just to annoy me, baby ? To prove a point ? You had to bring a guy who would beat me at my own grumpy-loner-badass-crap-drink-too-much game, right ?

“That place sounds sure awesome, because Y/n keeps coming back to it” he states, not letting me know the true meaning he puts in that sentence, his piercing blue eyes free of any emotions on the surface.

“Well it’s home for her” I say, and that bastard chuckles. “Is it funny ?”

“Not at all !” he says with a warm and kind laugh, and a friendly tap on my shoulder. “You should relax Dean, you look like the bar is full of demons !”

I stay stern, I know I should probably look friendly, but I rarely hated someone nice that much.

He gets up and kisses her head before he walks away, his manly way to move catching women’s attention, and some men’s too. One of his hand goes through his blond hair while he walks to the bathroom with the other hand deep in his jeans’ pocket.

“So… Abe, huh ?” I ask, the second he’s gone.

I should be more coherent, I know. I want her gone, but I want her for me. I was sure I was ready to see her with someone else, it’s been three years. Three years ! After we only made love six times. She is not mine, she never was.

And I thought calling her Baby in my head would make me strong. It’s a weird feeling, like I could let her be happy, but still feel special. I would have been the passion of her youth, the one that died young and of which she would think a little when she rocks her baby in her pretty house…

I had somehow romanticized my heartbreak.

But that doesn’t feel romantic at all. And all I can think of is that he is passion too, I’m not dead, and I just have to see him touch her and imagine them at night…

“Yes” she says, still with that bitterness in her voice. “You could make an effort, Dean. He has been nothing but nice, and you act like he’s an enemy.”

“I haven’t decided if he is one yet.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval.

I recognize hurt. My Y/n, when she’s hurt, she gets angry. Always. And I made her angry so often. Her irritation is growing, I can see it in her burning eyes.

“You can’t do that” she says low. “You can’t treat him like that, no one gives you the right.”

“And him ?” I dare asking, staring at her reddened face. “Does he treat you right ?”

Her eyes fills with tears again and her jaw clenches.

“Better than you did, you mean ?” her words feel like a stab in my heart.

Reader’s POV

I didn’t want to say that, it came out by itself.

I’m thin-skinned lately. I feel like I could cry or scream any moment, all the time. My emotions have always been loud, my sensibility overwhelming, but for a few weeks I’m drowning.

The fact that I decided to try to get over Dean Winchester probably caused that.

A long time ago, I thought living with Dean without ever having him would be the worst, then I saw him with other women and was convinced I was mistaking before : the worst was definitely that. How wrong was I ?

The worst is having had him. Not once, but several times, each time a little more intimate. More kisses, more touches, more suspended seconds watching in each other’s eyes… Until we spent that night together, that last night, and he fell asleep against me for the first time.

It was over. It was too much for Dean, and not enough for me.

Dean Winchester can’t belong to anyone, not again. He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend, and he doesn’t want me to be his girl ; who am I to insist ?

“Well, that’s a minimum” he answers in a soft groan after a little while, and my heart breaks because I just did what I swore I would never do : Reproach him for any of it.

“I’m sorry” I sigh, thinking of those weeks after the last night, when I had to hide the worst pain I ever felt because I didn’t want him to feel bad about not wanting me.

I still do... -feel that pain and try to hide- because Abe or not, I still live with Dean and he doesn’t deserve to carry my pain on top of the world on his shoulders.

“Can you at least try ?” I beg, low, seeing my boyfriend getting out of the restroom but stopping next to the door to talk to someone he obviously knows.

“Yes” Dean answers. “I’m just… He’s a hunter and…”

“He’s a good man” I assure him, looking at Abe walking toward us above Dean’s shoulder. “He comes from a dark place, like us, but he is a good man.”

September 21, 08:12pm

“That place is crazy !” Abe says, sitting at the table of the library. “I have never seen anything like this.”

While Sam tells him a little more about the bunker, I look at my boyfriend.

I stare at him, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable impression, that feeling screaming that he doesn’t belong here ; because if he doesn’t belong in the bunker, then he probably just has nothing to do in my life.

A lot of memories cross my mind, like it happens a lot lately.

The memory of entering the bunker for the first time and deeply knowing that, as long as I am welcome here, this would be my home. Because it just feels right and because, even if I’m not the granddaughter of Henri Winchester, he trusted me with this place, as much as he trusted his family. That man actually welcomed me like Mary never really did, like I was just as legit as blood.

At his frank smile, the memory of meeting Abe crosses me too. I was alone in this hunter bar, trying to get information for a case. I hadn’t told Sam and Dean that I would go there, because I know how much uncomfortable the hunter community makes them. And I was introduced to him : Abraham Hale. I found him so beautiful, with his mischievous smile that seemed to mock the entire world, his wheat blond hair and his tattoos. Something felt so safe about him, not because he looked like a bad boy, but because he was light and happy, laughing at everything and taking nothing seriously… All that Dean wasn’t.

I loved his wild energy right away. Abe was like the drums in a rock song, like summer wind. In his arms, I forgot about Dean for a few seconds a day during the first weeks. We spent days sleeping and having sex behind the curtains of that motel room, hiding from summer heat, and nights drinking and listen to rock music...

But now I look at him, his bright blue eyes seem pale next to the deep green looking back, and his beauty is bland.

“Thank you for showing me your home, Treasure” he says, putting a tender hand on my back like he always does.

And my eyes cross Dean’s.

I know what he’s thinking, he’s cringing at the nickname, and that reminds me why I am with Abe : Dean never gave me a nickname, he never called me anything else than my name, he will never and even when others do, he thinks it’s lame and cheesy.

Dean’s POV

That hurt on her face again.

Baby, you can’t look at me like that each time he calls you Treasure . I don’t like it, but you’re supposed to do.

This is much harder than I thought, and I was aware it would be impossible.

Each and every one of his actions makes me face my own contradictions : The more loving he is, the more I want to push him away from her. But the more she seems distant and to have her head in the clouds, the more it eases the pain. Am I selfish enough to hate her happiness even though I love her ?

I was in control, during those three years not touching her, my heart was aching with craving and my soul was screaming at me to make her love me. But as much as the heartbreak was constant, I had chosen it. I was in control.

I never realize that it was only bearable because she was still here, my partner, my best friend, my roommate. Mine.

Now she took it back. She raised her middle finger right in my face and decided she wouldn’t be mine anymore.

And that is a whole new level of pain.

I don’t sleep when she’s not home, and sometimes food just won’t let me eat it. She texts during our movie nights and wears that pendant he gave her. I hate that pendant because it reminds me I never gave her a present. Not once in all those years.

“Another drink ?” Y/n asks him with the bottle in her hand.

“Don’t you drive ?” I cut him before he answers and I see her eyes shoot me with imaginary bullets.

I’m sorry Baby but it’s movie night tonight, can’t he just leave already ?

“He’s right” she says giving me a little hope that she will ask him to leave soon. “You should stay for the night.”

My breathing gets stuck in my lungs.

No Baby, don’t do that to me. Please.

“With pleasure !” he smiles.

September 21, 11:49pm

Reader’s Pov

He grabs my thigh to lift it a little and grunt in my ear. His kisses are hot on my neck, his heavy body moving cautiously on top of me.

My eyes are on the ceiling, my hands on his sweaty muscular back and I wait.

Damn, what is happening ? He’s close, I am going to fake it ? I swore I would never fake, I swore if the guy can’t get me there, he should know, but… Abe is not the problem, I am.

I just watch the ceiling wondering what is wrong with me. He did everything right, nice foreplays and those love words he always has for me. But nothing seems to turn me on anymore, and without the need and the pleasure, his thrusts are just uncomfortable and I feel weird.

Come already.

I sigh. I know what is making this impossible. Dean. This fucker is the last I had in my own bed, the only one in fact. And everything reminds me that Abe is not Dean fucking Winchester !

“You okay Treasure ?” he pants in my ear, nibbling at it.

I’m not a freaking snack, what is it with his mouth and teeth always ?

“Yes” I fake a moan. “I’m close Abe, come.”

Just don’t be loud, that would be so awkward.

When he loses rhythm, I close my eyes at the relief, it won’t be long now, make it stop. He shakes a little and grunt loud, filling the condom inside of me ; and, to make my fake moans credible, I clench my walls around him one time or two, rolling my eyes at his proud groan.

Sex with Abe used to be so much more than this. I'm getting frustrated. Did I break something in me ? Why can't I enjoy anything anymore ?

He rolls on my side, panting, and smiles tenderly at me. He’s beautiful, I have to admit that, and he’s nice and loving.

“You’re amazing” he hums. “I guess I can’t smoke in your bedroom ?”

“I don’t mind” I answer sincerely. “The air co is magical, just, don’t smoke more than one.”

He sits on the bed to get his pants, his beautiful tattooed back on me. The smoke flies in pretty wreath. I put my hand on the lion tattooed on his back. It suits him, with his solar attitude and his confidence, his beautiful blond hair…

Yet I keep longing for my wolf.

Dean’s Pov

Now I know I could kill him. And now I know what the limit amount of pain I can take is.

I pace my room like a crazy man. He is taking her, my Baby. He is sinking inside of her and stealing pleasure. Does she wrap her legs around him like she always did with me ? To push me deeper. Is she as responsive ? As lost in pleasure as she was ? With that way only she has too beg for more with her entire body, voice strangled and arms caging me the best she can…

Is she…

“F-fuck…” I whine, holding my heart.

I think I just felt it break.

Baby…

Breathing is painful now, I feel like I’m drowning.

Baby… Why did you have to do that to me ? I know I hurt you but your revenge is unbearable.

I sit on my bed, still holding my chest.

I can’t take it, you know.

“Shit” I grunt.

How can this kind of familiar panic attack be back ? How can this hurt so much ? It’s not Hell, it’s not Purgatory…

“It is Hell” I say out loud.

Loosing you, Baby. It’s Hell. Do you love him ? Because…

“Fuck, I love her” I whine.

September 28, 06:05pm

Sitting in my “Fortress of Deanitude”, I wait. The tray with snacks is there, beers too, and Netflix is ready for our next episode of Stanger Things.

But there is a big chance she won’t come. Our movie nights are getting rarer and rarer, like our time together in general. And this place is slowly becoming a Fortress of Solitude…

You never know how much you need something until you lost it, right ? I was stupid enough to think I could be stronger than the need for her and now look at me, alone in that big empty room in a bigger emptier bunker.

All I can think of is how much each day pulls her closer to him and further from me. They are building memories in which I’m not, they are building an intimacy that I lost three years ago. She will forget me and he will have her, maybe even make her change a little, until one day she is among those people who talk about their personal tastes by saying “we”. “We prefer red wine”.

Ew.

Is he going to change my girl, for real ? Make her love Led Zeppelin a little less, make her a little less her, make her want other things, another life, need me less ? Our things will become unimportant and be replaced by all kind of other things I have no idea about.

I take a long sip of my glass. It’s not like I had my word to say anyway. I lost her. I lost her in the worst way possible : willingly.

But just when I’m about to get up and go put the snacks away, she opens the door, panting a little, like she had ran.

“Dean” she says entering the room. “I’m sorry. There was an accident on the road and the traffic was disturbed.”

You were at his place, Baby, and you ran to me ?

A little smile lights up my face when her presence revive my heart.

“It’s okay” I say.

“I’m late, but I have…” she takes her hand out of her purse. “Giant skittles !”

“You found them ?” I smile, sitting straighter when she hands me a bag.

Our things are not all gone. And she still cares about me and about our time together.

“Yup ! I made Abe stop in every shop yesterday.”

So you think of me when you’re with him, Baby ? Have you ever thought of me while he was inside of you ?

“Sit” I pat the armchair next to mine. “Let’s find out if Dusty’s girlfriend exists !”

“I really hope !” she exclaims, taking off her jacket.

I try not to look at her, but when she quickly takes off her jeans to slip in her pajamas pants, I swallow hard. Those thighs could have been for me, and I could have watched the show while holding her.

She sits with her knees up against her chest in the big chair next to me, and takes a beer. My eyes are glued to her, looking for anything unusual, and fearing it more than anything in the same time.

“What ?” she calls me out of my thoughts.

“Nothing, I…” have no idea how to finish this sentence.

“I’m still okay you know ?” she says without looking at me, playing with the label of her beer bottle. “You always stare at me like something had happened to me. I know what you think of Abraham, but he doesn’t treat me bad.”

Reader’s Pov

“I’m sorry” he sighs. “You know how protective I can get. Especially with you…”

A chuckle escapes me and I know he doesn’t like it, but protective with me ? He broke my heart. He ripped it and threw it on the floor because I had said those words.

“Yeah…” I nod, nibbling at my lip. “You won’t find bruises on me.”

He doesn’t answer.

When did we become like this ?

After a silence, he hands me candies and presses play. But, chewing on sugar and my eyes on the screen, I keep my full attention on him.

I have everything any girl would want : A lover with hot blood, beauty and a heart of gold. But I'm not any girl, and the only thing I want is Dean Winchester. The genius who thinks he's dumb, the scared little boy who lost his mom, the leader, the victim of his fate, the killer, the loyal friend, the rebel, the torturer, the perfect brother, the wary hunter, the crappy dancer ; grumpy Dean, childish Dean, stubborn Dean, all of Dean...

I look at him and my eyes travel down his neck, his beard is fighting to grow back there but I know he won't let it. The slow movements of his chest are mesmerizing. My eyes go down, to his thighs and crotch...

I really shouldn't let myself look there but his smell and aura are like a mermaid song and I'm drowning. His strength is radiating of him and I feel myself respond to it in everyone of my heartbeats.

He could make me scream. He always did, so easily. Dean made me cry of pleasure more than once, sometimes without any effort, the brushes of his fingers, the burning of his kisses... And when he finally buried himself inside of me, it was like a firework in Heaven. He never had to do anything really special...

And now I wonder : Is something broken about me ? Abe is passionate and loving, we used to work great, he was easy as whiskey. And he loves me. Why am I unable to enjoy any of it lately ?

My eyes trace the bump in Dean’s pants and I remember the simple ecstasy of feeling his cock twitch for me. Dean... I bite my lip to hold back the moan hanging on my tongue. His thigh moves a little, strong muscles hidden in his jeans, and I think of his stomach contracting that time he came on my tongue. I…

“I see you” his deep serious voice hits the air like thunder.

I look up to meet his eyes and realize I have been staring at his crotch, licking my lips and probably visibly holding back moans.

“Do you need something ?” he asks with a proud aura on his face.

I want to punch that expression off of his perfect features.

I look down and sigh. Yes, I do. I need him, not only want like I would like to think, but need indeed. I need him to feel my body, to make it alive, and to hear my soul breathe again.

“Dean…” I just say.

Like it was an answer or reproach but of course, he hears it for what it is.

A call.

So he gets up, suddenly so tall that he eclipses the TV, the light and my will. He comes in front of me, standing there, making me look up timidly through my lashes. His strong hand lands cautiously on my cheek, gently holding my face while I lean on his touch.

I can resist him. I can.

I think of Abe's sweet smile, of his deep voice and his arms around me. I think of this night he told me about jail and I tried all I could to make him feel safe again, that was a beautiful moment... We are something beautiful Abe and me. We are going to make it right, to make it count. Right ?

As my heart fights itself, playing all the love songs I know at once in my head in a deafening dim of emotions, my eyes fill with tears. I know what is going to happen, and the cruel god writing my story can stop there, the end is already obvious.

I can't resist Dean. I just can't.

And Abe will cry, right ? He trusts me. He will take his bag and yell maybe, the sun inside of him will get clouded, he will drive away. Then I will let my body slide on the door frame, unable to hold my weight up, because I will have broken the only man that ever truly loved me.

I look down to hide the pain from Dean, but he knows me better.

"I can leave" he says.

But it's the last thing I want because I miss him, I miss him like a part of me died years ago and I still feel empty and cold... I miss him when I'm alone, and even more when I'm not.

When he's about to move, take a step back to leave me alone, I grab his belt and hold him in place firmly. I have no plan, no solid thought, but I know I can't be away from him for now. He smells both like the most familiar home and the wildest dream.

My other hand grazes the fabric of his jeans on his thigh, I close my eyes for a second and a little whimper escapes me. I started touching Dean less than a day after meeting him, and it seems I can't be around him without having my hands on his body.

He hums, staring down at me, bow legs slightly parted like he needed balance, like he was gripping the floor for both of us. Dean had always been my anchor. His shoulders look wider from down here and I want nothing more than letting my hands grab his butt to rub my cheek on his crotch like a cat marking its territory.

"Touch me like you need it, Baby" he murmurs and a little sob escapes me unexpectedly.

He never ever called me Baby.

He never gave me any nickname like he never gave me the place I thought I could take in his heart. And Abe, he calls me Treasure. He welcomed me in his heart...

"What's wrong ?" Dean asks like he didn't know.

Dean Winchester is the world's greatest hero, saved basically everyone's life without any reward, and for this he is a saint ; and still, he's the one that is going to be the end of me. Hero or not, he's my villain.

"Everything is wrong, Dean" I answer in a broken voice. "Everything."

He squats in front of me and my hand panics at losing my grip on his belt so it grasps his flannel like my life depends on it.

"Not everything" he whispers, bending to let his poisonous lips graze my skin.

My treacherous mouth opens in reflex at the proximity of his, making him respond by biting my lower lip. I whimper again and pull him closer.

"I got you" he states, letting his burning lips trace down my chin and my neck followed by his thumb, scratching my skin with his short nail. And I catch fire.

I let my head falls back and I surrender totally.

That's how bad he is for me : I could let him break my heart again without an hesitation, after it took me years to recover just enough to just function. And oh, I will. I will shatter the heart of the man that trusts me just to let Dean selfishly remind me how much I love him.

His breath is burning my skin, spreading in the fabric of my t-shirt when he buries his face on my chest, opening his mouth wide to pretend to bite my breast, hand cupping my sides like he had missed me for real. I let go of the plaid fabric to grip the short strand of his hair like I can.

"Dean..." the moan I have been holding comes out, filling the room with sin and the echo of future lies.

"I got you" he repeats.

His hungry hands seize my jeans and tear it open, fighting the metallic button's resistance brutally. The fabric hurts my lower back in a last resistance but is ripped off of me the second after, taking my panties in its way.

And before I can sit straighter now that I'm on the edge of the chair, before I can talk, think or breath. Dean's anaconda arms grab my thighs firmly and his burning breath is on my folds.

"Wh-" I start but what can I say now.

He kisses my folds like no men ever did : like he was in love with that part of me. An open mouth kiss, tongue eagerly lapping my juice from my entrance to my clit.

"AH !" I scream, arching my back but Dean doesn't take a second to breathe, burying his face on me.

I squirm, licking my lips like I was kissing him back but the place he is devouring can only respond with throbs and getting soaked, which is does.

I'm panting, I'm being eaten by the flames of that indescribable pleasure that is back. My stomach is shaking, my temples are beating so loud. I suck a breath when he sucks at my clit, moist hand gripping the leather of the chair.

"Dean" I moan again in the subdued light of the warm room.

He answers with a hum, and his nimble tongue pushes at my entrance, making my thighs shake violently in the vise grip of his arms.

I can't escape what Dean does to me so I let go.

My whole body falls backward when I come, harder than I have in years, holding his hair so tight it might hurt him, legs shaken by electricity, back arching and chest fighting itself to breath. My sensible clit seems to have nerves in my whole body and I fall silent, covered in sweat, suffocated by a forbidden crushing orgasm.

I whimper desperately, limp and lost, panting in the chair like I didn't realize yet what just hit me. But Dean knows what he's doing, he knows where this goes.

He opens his jeans, I can feel it even though I don't see him, my head still back, moaning at the caresses of his tongue on my neck. I bite my lip hard, hand moving from the arm of the chair to his, to feel his eagerness.

And he grabs my thighs harshly, making me fall on the floor with him and holds my back when I can't, keeping me against him.

"So wrong..." I whisper in a dying echo of my disgrace.

His hand grasps my face firmly and makes me look at him. His eyes have this fire in them, he clenches his jaw when I roll my lips a little, wetting his craved cock on me, dying of being finally filled by him.

"Keep your eyes on me" he groans, grabbing his length to guide it at my throbbing entrance.

"Dean..." I moan, fingers reaching his stomach under his clothes to feel it tremble.

"Eyes on me baby" he repeats low.

Dean's Pov

She can't think of him. Not now. I need her with me, I need her for me.

Feel me, baby.

I smile slightly when she dives her unfocused pupils in my eyes. She's perfect and I love her ; but I must say when she seems to surrender so completely to my touch, that's when forgot why I asked her to stay away.

When I enter her, her phone lights up once again in her back, on the floor. I groan loud as she wraps me like only she can, like she was trying to suck me inside her core. She's shaking, she's fighting to keep her eyes on me and I'm fighting that urge to grab her phone and shatter it in a million pieces against the wall.

She gasps, her body threatening to fall back so I hold her.

That's it baby, stay with me, feel me, let me take you like I used to when you were mine.

My hand fists her hair and my mouth gets attracted to her pulse point so I bend to suck at it, barely thrusting for now, just enjoying to be inside of her, feeling her pulsating with desire, the concrete hard floor digging in my knees.

Her arms wrap around me, she cling to me and I try to ignore my jealousy shouting at me.

Baby, you try to ignore me but can he do that to you ? Can he turn you into a purring cat like that ?

"Dean" she moans, clenching around me, her thighs trying to get herself even closer so she takes me impossibly deeper.

"Say you want me" I murmur against her skin in a voice I barely recognize.

"I want you" she gives in, exhaling in my ear.

Behind her, her phone lights up one more time with a text : "I found us a case in California, Treasure."

=> PART 2

FEEDBACK IS GOLD

Tags : @parinarain @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter @peridottea91 @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart @vicmc624 @teresa-67 @jessie-michael @doctor-hp-mcu @hawkerz12 @mariaenchanted @hobby27

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therealtsk · 3 years

Note

tsk i’m DYING to hear your play-by-play on which worm characters have dumb fanon interpretations

UH OH YOU JUST OPENED THE FLOODGATES so the short answer is pretty much every major character but I am a high-effort bitch so let's do this: Taylor Hebert: jfc, I could probably hit a word count limit talking about Taylor alone. First you have the dumb as shit TINO (Taylor In Name Only) phenomenon where people just straight up SI as Taylor but pretend it's her and she's basically a different person wearing Taylor's skin like an ill-fitting suit. Then there's the Memetic Escalator Taylor interpretation where Taylor's Warlord era characterization is flanderized so hard that she turns into her world's version of Doomguy where her response to literally everything is ultra violence, mutilation and torture and she can totally beat up anyone you guys hahah coin sock goes brrrrr you go brutalize those totally deserving victims queen. And then there's shy, stuttering, soft spoken "useless lesbian" Taylor which is not as common but still, fuckin straight men and the way they infantize gay women. Taylor is perhaps the most consistently inconsistent characterization I've seen in fandom, it's fucking wild Lisa Wilbourn: Has two fanon settings. Taylor's best friend who exists solely to give exposition and get the "Stop Coil" subplot rolling (occasional gay subtext will be added in a way that feels fetishy) Or, the evil bitchy blonde who is first target of the SI. I constantly wonder if the people who write the frankly masturbatory SI's are aware that we can tell they're still bitter about girls not dating them in highschool. Brian: basically does not exist in fic aside from the occasional joke cause racism and also because of how popular wlw ships are in Worm fandom. you deserve better dude Alec: has a few token appearances in wormfic fandom that usually have him as the comic relief alongside Aisha, which might actually be for the best considering he's a rapist and the Worm fandom's uhhhh tendencies. Moving on- Aisha: prankster girl that alt!Taylor will adopt as a younger sibling. hopefully is not part of the totally-not-a-harem considering she's even younger then the rest of these teens Bitch: Another girl to fall into alt!Taylor's definitely-not-a-harem, but with more butch tendencies. Basically has no personality in fanon outside of her dogs Parian: SHE DOESN'T HAVE A SHOP FFS also another member of Taylor's totally-not-a-harem Flechette: yeah it's a harem Sophia: holy shit you think Brian's bad? The racism in pretty much every fanon depiction of Sophia is off the charts. Hyper-violent, super edgy, "predator/prey" speech inbound, will get humilated/killed in some new, supposedly satisfying but actually just deeply uncomfortable way, probably throw in some E88 shit too just because Emma: again, do the writers know we can tell they're still malding over the fact that the pretty girls in highschool didn't date them? fanon emma is pretty much a cardboard cut out of whoever was mean to the author. something something bitches three Madison: in fanon has a C53 fetish, occasionally is also Browbeat. don't ask why Victoria: gets hit with the blonde stereotypes even harder then Lisa, "Collateral Damage Barbie" is one of the phrases that activates my flight or fight responses. she basically is an entirely different character in fanon. bubbly dumb blonde girl with a massive temper and well other sexist bullshiit Amy: I hate even touching this character with a ten foot pole but basically is hit with the "soft useless lesbian" trope hard enough to make her into a completely separate person from her canon self. whether or not this is a good thing is still up for debate Carol: in fanon, an evil bitch who exists solely to bully Amy Mark: who? The rest of New Wave: cannon fodder for Leviathan Danny Hebert: literally stale milk instead of a personality, will probably die before the fic is over but we won't care because the author did not care either Armsmaster: hahaha robotman go brrrr or is an arrogant self-aggrandizing shit, can't interact with people without Dragon helping him 24/7 Miss Militia: fanon bat'd into team mom,

idk where this came from considering her first instinct upon seeing children is to pull out a gun holy shit wait is she actually Taylor's true mom- Velocity: canon fodder for levi Battery & Assault: sitcom wife, sitcom husband! please ignore how fucked up this relationship is if you look at it for more than two seconds Dauntless: haha armsy is JEALOUS also cannon fodder for levi Triumph: who? The BB wards in general tend to be incredibly bland, the only ones who have fanon personalities of note are Clockblocker and Vista. The former being such a huge prankster that every other line is a joke- or him complaining about how BULLSHIT Alt!Taylor's powers are. Vista is an angry kiddo who says that Shadow Stalker doesn't count as being a girl on the team The E88: no personality for any of them except that Kaiser is noble and really isn't that bad and also Purity did nothing wrong totally she's just a hot mom trying to do her best, please ignore how she exclusively targets characters of color and literally calls white criminals more civilized than miniorities- the worm fandom has something of a nazi problem i hate it here The ABB: racism and honorable samurai lung even though that has no canon basis so again, racist stereotypes The Slaughterhouse 9: This one makes me just as sad as the Lisa shit because dear god this is such a good cast of villains that fanon completely flattens to bowling pins for the Alt!Taylor of the week to mow down, why does this fandom suck so much. Anyway Jack is just the Joker, Crawler is masochistic, etc i'm moving on now The PRT/Protectorate as a whole: They are an evil paramilitary organization that pressgangs kids into signing up to become child soldiers, and somehow at the same time, they are a bunch of idiots who listen to the PR department and have stupid things like RULES that prevent capes from COMMITTING VIOLENCE. Being called "the biggest gang of all" is common and some shit like "at least the criminals are honest" is a likely statement. Cauldron: whoo boy this one really boils my blood but fanon Cauldron are just a bunch of evil idiots who can't even tie their shoelaces. basically a bunch of dudebros are upset that women run the world and that two of them essentially have "I win" powers so they have to make them lose to their SI- er, Taylor in fics so they can assuage their masculinity, which totally isn't pathetic Scion: Is at once the end all be all of worm you can't write a wormfic without scion or else it's TOTALLY MEANINGLESS because what is the point of a story if all the characters are going to DIE in a few years anyway, and at the same time is incredibly easy to defeat- this ties into how Cauldron is stupid. Scion Truthers pls shut up and go read something else okay I think that's everyone I would apologize but the only thing I'm sorry for is how messy this is

#Worm #Parahumans #Worm Fanfic #Worm Fanon #if you can't tell #I'm a little annoyed with the worm fanfic fandom #dear SI writers stop being such creeps #and nazis pls fucking leave we don't want you here go away

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

teach me what i need to know (to be strong enough to let go)

@911lonestarangstweek day 2 - g is for...grief, guilt, grace

title from night must end by sleeping at last

ao3 | 1.3k | grief, references to past character death

She’s drunk. She’s barely touched a drop of drink since Charles because there was the girls to think about, always the girls, and it’s not like they’ve gone anywhere, but Tommy just. She can’t. She can’t do this. She doesn’t know how she ever did this.

Not that she ever…

Because, before, there was always Charles. At the end of the day, he would always come home; even if he ended up staying late at the restaurant, he would text her and she would go to sleep in the knowledge that she would wake up to a warm bed.

Now, all Tommy has is a cold mattress and an abandoned text thread that is slipping further and further down in her messages.

And she’s been coping. She has. But tonight it was all just—the station and Billy and Owen and the girls and Charles—it was all too damn much.

So now she’s here, drunk off her ass with Gracie attempting to console her while Judd looks after Izzy and Evie for the night. She’s going to feel horrendously guilty once the hangover has faded and her brain is firing on all cylinders again, but that’s for future Tommy to deal with.

“D’you remember the last night we did this?” she’s saying now. ‘We’ is a relative term, of course; Grace is hardly drinking now—(and, god, Tommy had hated that part of her own pregnancy, not that she’s a big drinker, but she hadn’t even been able to have a glass of wine and she’d missed it dammit)—but she digresses.

“I was jealous,” she continues. “I was honest to god jealous of the fact that my husband was taking care of our girls, and he was doing it well. Can you believe that?”

“Tommy—”

“And, you know, Charles was always there for the girls, they were always his first priority, but there was the restaurant, so I was the one who’d tuck them in and read them stories and—and braid their hair. That was me.

“I thanked God everyday that Charles was able to be there for them. But I hated it because it felt—it felt like they didn’t need me anymore. Charles was perfect and it was like he was doing so much better than I ever did, and a part of me really, really hated that. No, a part of me still does sometimes because I’ve forgotten how to do this on my own and I need him now more than ever but he’s just… He’s gone, Gracie.”

She hadn’t even realised she was crying, but she can’t suppress a sob at that, bitterness and regret and grief threatening to overwhelm her yet again. Tommy twists away at the sensation of Grace’s hand on her back, shaking her head as she cries harder.

“No.”

“T, it’s okay, just let it out, it’s gonna be okay.”

“No, no, it’s not.” She takes a shuddering breath and wipes her eyes, meeting Grace’s gaze as best she can through her near triple vision. “They want their daddy,” she whispers. “They want their daddy, and I don’t know how to be enough for them anymore. I don’t know if I ever was.”

“Tommy!” Grace’s voice is sharper this time and it shocks Tommy out of her spiral, to hear the near anger in her friend’s voice. “If you expect me to just sit here and listen to this, then you have another thing coming, ‘cause I’m gonna tell you something now and I hope you hear it.”

Grace takes a breath, pausing as though waiting for Tommy to interrupt again. But Tommy is out of words anyway and she’s tired of fighting for now.

“I don’t know what you’re going through,” Grace continues after waiting a moment longer, “and I pray that I never find out. But you have to know that this is all natural. Those girls just lost their daddy, which is hard for anyone, let alone two nine-year-olds. So, yeah, they’re gonna be acting out and giving you a bit of a hard time, but don’t you ever doubt that they love you. You are their world, and you have always been there for them; you have always been more than enough.

“But here’s the thing,” she continues, voice softening. She reaches out and takes Tommy’s hands, holding them tightly. “Izzy and Evie lost their dad, but you, Tommy Vega, lost your husband. The man who had been by your side for thirty years. You were a team, you and Charles, and a damn good one; neither of you were ever alone, not when Charles had the restaurant, and not when you went back to work. But he’s gone now, and you feel like all that weight you two shared is now all on you, right?”

Tommy swallows and sniffs, nodding silently. Somewhere along the line she started crying again, a fact she’s only alerted to when Grace reaches up and wipes a tear away, smiling softly.

“It’s not,” Grace says. “It never will be. Whatever happens, I promise you’ll always have me and Judd, and I’m pretty sure you can count on anyone at the firehouse to help whenever you need. I mean, Carlos looked after them for, what, one afternoon? And they love him already.”

She snorts at that; Judd’s indignation at being replaced as the girls’ favourite person has provided both her and Grace (and TK, a little) with endless amusement.

“See? It’s okay to share the load, Tommy. You cannot be expected to be on it 24/7, especially not after what you’ve been through, okay? We’re only human, and someone once taught me that asking for help makes us wise, not weak. It was some pretty good advice; you might want to consider taking it.”

Grace levels her with a pointed look that Tommy can understand even with her mind only quarter-functioning. She pouts at her, getting a small giggle out of Grace.

“Not fair to use my own words against me.”

“Well, maybe you deserved it,” Grace teases. Then, she gets to her feet and grasps Tommy’s elbows, pulling her up to standing as well. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. You, ma’am, are going to drink some water and get your ass into bed while I text Judd and tell him that he’s gotta keep the girls overnight. I’ll sleep in your spare room—”

“No, Gracie, no, no.” Tommy tugs herself from Grace’s grasp but, unsteady as she is, the simple movement unbalances her and she slumps back onto the couch.

Grace folds her arms, watching her with a raised eyebrow. “This isn’t up for discussion, T.”

“But—”

“Uh-uh,” she tuts, shaking her head. “What did we just talk about, huh? Tonight, I’m here to help you in whatever you need, even if that involves putting you to bed and holding your hair back over the toilet bowl. Now, come on.”

And, this time, Tommy goes willingly, allowing Grace to lead her to bed and force a glass of water down her. She settles into the covers, sleep rapidly approaching now that she’s lying down, but she manages to hold it back long enough to call, “Hey, Gracie?”

Grace turns, smiles. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. You’re a… You’re a good friend.”

Grace’s smile softens and she raps her knuckles lightly on the doorframe. “Love you too, T.”

Then she’s gone, and Tommy is alone in her bed again. Charles’s absence is still as glaring as ever, but knowing that Grace is here eases the weight on her chest.

For the first time in months, Tommy falls asleep with a smile on her face.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tommy vega #grace ryder #charles vega #tommy x charles #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

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loving-daisy · 4 years

Text

It’s Only Love | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 4.0k

Warnings: jealousy, angst if you squint, brief mentions of anxiety, small and enclosed spaces, loneliness, idiots in love, and fluff.

Summary: George didn’t know why he was feeling that way. Turns out, it’s only love.

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

It’s only love and that is all.

George slumped into his pillow as soon as he entered his dormitory. Feeling all sorts of things that led him into self reflection in attempt to justify his thoughts. A few moments after, Fred came walking in, hand in his pocket, whistling, ecstatic to have another day of successful pranking.

Turning to see his brother looking so gloomy, the look on his face was changed into concern. “What’s wrong Georgie? Is something bothering you?” Fred asked as he sat on George’s bed, attempting to comfort his twin.

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

“Tired? But you never get tired whenever we manage to have a successful prank. You can’t fool me, mate. Tell me.” Fred pushed. “It’s nothing, I swear.”

The older twin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and like I would believe you. I’m your twin brother, George. We go way way back. Starting from when we were just fetuses! Now tell me, mate. What’s wrong? I won’t stop bothering you until you tell me.”

George finally managed to sit down and face his twin. “I think…” George trailed off, playing with his fingers. “I fancy a girl.” He sighed, his heart heavy as the thoughts of earlier events was kept swamped in his ginger head.

Fred smirked, a knowing look in his face. “And who might that be, Georgie? Who’s the unlucky girl who caught your attention?” He teased, poking George’s side, another attempt to make him feel better. Somehow, it worked as it brought George to raise an eyebrow towards Fred.

“Unlucky? Girls around Hogwarts go crazy over me!” George exclaimed. “Reckon, she would be the luckiest girl in the universe if she decides to go to Hogsmeade with me.”

“Mind you, I am more good looking than you.” The older twin stated, obviously not backing down. George looked at him seriously. “Fred” He called.

The older twin raised his hands, defending himself. “What? I’m just stating a fact.”

“We’re identical twins, Fred.”

“I knew that…” Fred said. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Who is it?” He asked, even if he already knew who his brother was eyeing.

It was painfully obvious from the beginning. George was just too painstakingly blind to see it. Everyone basically already knew...well, except for George. And... the girl he fancies.

“Admit first that I’m the better looking twin.”

“Nope” Fred says, popping the ‘p’. when an idea suddenly popped into his mind. He needs a little more push Fred thought to himself. And so, he stood up, walking towards the door before stating “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just inform Y/N then.”

Before Fred was able to reach the door, George went running to it, blocking it away from his twin. “DO NOT TELL Y/N PLEASE. I BEG YOU.” Fred gave George a fake surprised look. “But why? She’s our best friend! She’ll know what to -`”

“Because I can confess my own feelings to the girl I like.”

Fred gave George a smug look, patting his shoulder. “Good job, mate. Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” George gave him a confused look before finally realizing what Fred has done for him to act that way. “Merlin! I really hate you Fred.” He sighed, defeated. “No, you don’t. I’m your best man! I gotta give it to you though, took you quite a while. Everyone already knew about your undying love for Youngheart except for you, I guess.” He shrugged. “Wait, it's THAT obvious?” The younger twin asked, his eyes going wide.

“You must be blimey joking, mate. It’s obvious you want to have her all for yourself. I don’t even know why you’re wasting a good amount of time when you could have dated her a long time ago! That woman is crazy mad for you too!” Fred exclaimed.

The bitter look on George’s face became present once again. “If she’s mad for me, she wouldn’t be giggling earlier with that Hufflepuff.”

Fred was out of words. “...are you perhaps jealous?” He questioned, making George scoff. “No, I’m not.” He denied.

Fred snorted, patting his twin’s shoulder and deciding to just let it go and not waste more time as he suddenly wanted to see Angelina. “Sure, but if I were you, mate, I would go and make a move as soon as possible if I don’t want that Hufflepuff taking Y/N’s heart. Now, move. I’m gonna go see Angelina.” And with that, George was left alone to reflect on the older Weasley’s words.

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

“Hey, George. What’s up? You didn’t tell me about yours and Fred’s prank earlier. I heard from Fred that Filch had smoke coming out from his ears!” Y/N giggled as she sat beside George in the great hall for supper.

George gave her a small smile. “Well, it was amazing actually. I was actually looking for you but I couldn’t find you so I decided to just go back to the dormitories.” George clenched his fists as he lied straight in Y/N’s face. He hated lying to you but he had to for him to contain himself.

Y/N gave him a confused look. “But I saw you though...I know you saw me too. In the hallways, remember? I was sitting with this Hufflepuff boy and-”

“I believe you have confused yourself, love. I was sure I didn’t see you.” George said, trying to avoid how the way your eyes sparkled earlier being with that stupid Hufflepuff when it could have been him.

An obvious tension flooded the atmosphere, causing both to just stuff their mouths with the feast laid in front of them to avoid further heat.

“The Weasley Twins have done it again, everybody! Give it up for Fred and George!” Lee announces to the crowd. “Thank you, thank you, I couldn’t have done it without these babies. And of course, there’s Georgie too.” Fred jokingly said, nudging his twin’s arm when he saw how George turned his head from left to right, looking for a certain Gryffindor girl. “Reckon, this was all my idea, Fred. Now if you would excuse me, I have some business to attend to.” With that, George pushed himself through the crowd and walked from hall to hall, trying to find Y/N.

As George turned into the next hall, he was met with the Golden trio. He smiled. “Hey there Harry, Granger, and of course, Ronnikins. What are you up too?” He said, looking ahead of him as he already saw the familiar red scarf. There was Y/N with her hair down, a book in her lap, and a hand in her mouth, stifling a laugh from something the boy beside her said. George’s eyes went dark. His insides giving him an unfamiliar feeling.

“What’s wrong with you George? Why are you suddenly nervous? Get it together, George. You wouldn’t want to fool yourself in front of the girl you like right? Wait,...the girl I like? Do I like her? I must be crazy. Y/N Youngheart is your best friend George Weasley. But the way her hair falls...her eyes, her laugh...her everything is just perfect. She’s perfect.” He thought to himself, his eyes never leaving the Gryffindor.

“Well, do you have any suggestions Fred?” George was brought back to his senses as Hermione spoke. “Fred? But I’m George.” He shook his head, teasing the wise Gryffindor. “Honestly, Granger, you call yourself a friend when you can’t even tell the two of us apart.” Hermione smirked. “I knew it was you all along, George. You just weren’t listening as you were shooting heart eyes to Y/N at the back.” Ron snickered.

George gasped. “I was definitely not shooting heart eyes! What are you-” “Yeah, ‘cause he was definitely shooting daggers towards that boy Y/N was with.” Harry stated. At that moment, it was as if a light bulb showed on top of Ron’s head, coming into a realization. “Wait, are you jealous?” Ron asked. The 6th year Gryffindor was taken aback.

“There’s something wrong with you three if you guys think that way. I think I’m tired. I guess I’m just gonna head back to the common room. See you later!” He dismissed, quickly turning around to head back and have some deep reflection on what he was truly feeling for his best friend. “Tired? But he never gets tired when they pull a successful prank.” The young Weasley confusedly mumbled to his friends, George being able to hear it.

On his way to the common room, he was able to slowly gather his thoughts. “Yeah George, what is wrong with you?” He questioned before quickly shrugging the thought and coming up with a concrete conclusion “I guess there are just those days where you feel a certain tiredness even if you do things you love the most.”

He recalled how he and Fred were able to pull off their prank; from doodling in their parchments in between classes, to stealing Snape’s stock to cook up potions, to the implementation, and to the way his heart felt disappointment when he didn’t spot Youngheart in the crowd to celebrate. The look on Y/N’s face with that Hufflepuff suddenly flashed in his train of thought. Her cheeks shade of pink, her eyes shrinking to form a line from the laugh she’s bestowing, and just everything. George would have felt delighted from the sight if it weren’t for the sweet-looking Hufflepuff. “That damn Hufflepuff. It should have been me.” George muttered as he entered his dorm and slumped into his pillow.

A few minutes after the awkward exchange, the mood became brighter as Fred took his place beside his twin along with the Golden trio plus Ginny sitting across them. Supper was spent with Fred telling them about how Angelina was as red as a tomato when Fred showed a magic trick, obviously smitten for the girl; Harry reading a book with Ginny, Ron stuffing his face as if he hasn’t eaten for days, and Hermione scolding him. If you would observe them, it was obvious that Y/N Youngheart had something bothering her.

George was quietly eating his food, trying to look interested in Fred’s story, until Y/N nudged him. She motioned for him to lean down and when he did, she whispered. “Do you perhaps wanna hang out later?” Y/N asked, a hopeful look in her eyes. George’s heart started beating fast, nervous, but he was able to give her a small smile. “Anything for you.”

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

As Y/N entered the girl’s dormitory, she was met by her cat, Cloud. “Took you long enough. I’m hungry!” He whined.

“Have a little patience would you? You just ate a few hours ago.” She teased as she removed the scarf she was wearing, which was a gift from George.

“But that was a few hours ago Youngheart.” She raised her eyebrows as she faced her pet. “So we’re going to do a last name basis now huh? Did you forget that you’re also basically a Youngheart?”

“Of course, I didn’t forget. I just wanted to remind you that YOU are my mom and that you should be feeding me.” Cloud whined further. “Worry about dressing well later for Mr. Weasley, just please feed me.” He added, making Y/N stop in her tracks as confusion invaded her mind.

“How did you know me and George were going to meet up?” She questioned. “I just do. Now come on, feed me so that you can now finally go to your love.”

“Sometimes, I want to remove this bracelet. You keep on whining.” Y/N jokingly stated as she picked up cloud’s bowl to prepare his meal. For Y/N’s 12th birthday, her mom gave her a kitty as a gift, in which she named him Cloud because he was really fluffy. Cloud liked to meow a lot, but with no skills of cat communication, Y/N never really understood the reason for his noises. That’s why she decided to make a bracelet that would let her understand what Cloud was trying to say.

“Has he confessed yet?” Cloud asked. “Confessed? Why would he confess? I think you should be asking ME if I have already confessed.” Y/N suggested, giving her cat a raised eyebrow. “He obviously likes you back.” Replied Cloud nonchalantly.

Youngheart finally laid down the metal bowl that holds her cat’s dinner before sitting on her bed. “And how would you know that? You don’t even leave this room.” She nagged, getting nothing but noises coming from the cat’s bowl due to its bell hitting the metal. A few more seconds passed before Cloud looked up to her and said “Are you sure?”

Youngheart gasped. “Don’t tell me you have been sneaking out.”

“Then, I won’t tell you.”

“Cloud!!!” She squeaked. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Disbelief all over her face.

“Because you’re overprotective! You act as if I can’t take care of myself.”

“Well, you seem to look that way! Look at you! Always hungry and whining. What would you do without me?”

“What would I do without you? Not whine of course! I only whine in front of you because I love you.”

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

A blanket was laid inside the astronomy tower. There they were, Y/N Youngheart and George Weasley, having a midnight picnic as if they didn’t just have supper at the Great hall 2 hours ago.

“Y/N.” George called, making Y/N look to her side in order to face the ginger. “Yes?”

“You know we’re in our sixth years now but you never really told me what you want to do in the future. I already told you about me and Fred’s plan of starting a joke shop, but what about you? You’ve given me and Fred a lot of support for our future and I wanted to do the same for you. You are our best friend after all.” He explained, his voice soft and warm, like a sweater you wear during the cold holidays.

Youngheart was taken aback by the sudden topic. “I….don’t really know, George.” She began. “All I know is that I really love potions. I like mixing potions. It’s just...it's amazing isn’t it? How a group of ingredients mixed together to form a mixture that could do something different. But I really want to make a potion that could heal people. Should I be a healer instead? But I don’t really want to deal with people. They give me anxiety!”

As if the ginger’s eyes held the entire universe, it sparkled. “Potions, eh? How ‘bout you join me and Fred’s joke shop? You can be the mastermind of our potions! How ‘bout something that makes your teeth fall off? Or something that can turn your hair red!” He suggested.

Youngheart giggled, causing the ginger’s heart to beat like crazy. Serotonin spreading throughout his body. “Why would you need a potion that turns your hair into red? Your hair is already red!”

“I’ll use it for you so you can become a Weasley.” He joked, earning a full blown laugh from the girl. “There are other ways I can become a Weasley that doesn’t necessarily need me drinking a potion to turn my hair red. I can go just marry Bill or Charlie and I’ll immediately become a Weasley!”

“Bill or Charlie?” He queried, the familiar feeling he felt earlier splashing through his stomach making it ache like it was acid. Youngheart raised her brows, feigning an innocent expression. “What? What’s wrong with them? They’re your older brothers, afterall. Not like I would marry Percy….or Fred...or You….or Ron! I’m just basing it from my ranking of my favorite Weasley.”

“Am I not your favorite Weasley?!” George asked, pushing the green monster away from his facial expression and feigning a hurt one instead. The look on Youngheart remained innocent. “No?” She answered.

“Honestly, woman-”

“Ginny is my favorite. If I could marry her, I would. But she’s too smitten with Harry. And she’s like a sister to me. That would be weird.” she blurted before sitting up and grabbing a chocolate chip cookie that she and George stole from the kitchens.

Right, a sibling. If Y/N sees Ginny as her sister, she might see me and Fred the same? Nice try, George. I guess you’ll have to spend the rest of your life being in love with your best friend who only sees you as a brother. The ginger thought to himself before mirroring the actions of the girl he fancied.

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

George once again, slumped into his pillow rather loudly, a thump on his wooden bed, accidentally waking his snoring twin. “Hey mate, quiet down will you? Some want their beauty sleep and that someone is me.” Fred nagged.

“Fred, what do I do?” The younger twin asked, his voice filled with worry causing the older twin to pull down his blanket and eyeing his twin with squinted eyes. “What do you mean?”

“She only sees me as a brother, mate. An older brother! And she said she wanted to marry Bill or Charlie...I better keep them away from her.”

“She said that?” Fred asked in disbelief.

“Well…” George began. “She mentioned how her favorite Weasley is Ginny and that she would marry her if she could. It's just that she sees her like a sister. Which means, she probably sees me like a brother too...right?”

Seriousness enveloped Fred’s sleepy face, blinking at his twin for a few times before exclaiming “Merlin! I won’t deal with this right now. You’re giving me a headache George. You need to go to sleep.”

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow yeah?” He added, earning a soft “Yeah...” from George.

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

“Hello? Earth to George?” George quickly snapped out of his trance as Y/N pinched his right cheek in hopes to regain George’s attention to her. “What was that?” George asked, shaking his head.

“I said, do you want to meet in the astronomy tower later? We could pass by the kitchens and steal milk and cookies! We could-” George cut her off.

“I’m sorry, love. But I’m kind of tired. Maybe some other time?” Y/N frowned, her eyebrows meeting and her lively energy dying down. “O-okay. Good night, George.” She said, standing up from the couch she and George had been sitting on in the Gryffindor common room, walking away.

George was left alone in silence in front of the fireplace, his heart feeling empty and his head full of thought until his twin popped out of nowhere, smacking the back of his head with a book. “Ow! What was that for, mate?” George sputtered, rubbing his head to relieve the pain.

“You are impossible, mate. Why are you pushing her away? She clearly wants to spend some time with you!” Fred exclaimed.

“Why would she spend time with me when she could have just asked that Hufflepuff boy? He obviously- Oi! Stop it, will you?” Fred once again, smacked the back of his twin’s head. “If she wanted to spend time with that boy, then she could have asked, you’re right. But Merlin! She asked you, mate!”

George scoffed. “But why?” He questioned, earning a groaning Fred. “Because she fancies you, mate! Are you blind?”

The older twin was about to lose his mind. His brother was impossible! It was obvious how Y/N fancied him and how he fancied her too!

“If she fancies me, she wouldn’t have proposed the thought of marrying Bill or Charlie to become a Weasley! She only sees me as a brother, mate. You and me both.”

Fred sighed. “You know what, I’m not dealing with you anymore. You’re really something else. But piece of advice, if you don’t want that Hufflepuff boy winning Y/N’s heart, you have to do something about it.”

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

For the next few weeks, the younger Weasley twin managed to avoid Y/N, who was confused, blue, and angry at the same time. She didn’t know why the tall ginger would go the other way whenever they would cross paths in the halls of the wizarding school. She was clueless on why she never sits beside or across from George anymore. She was clueless on how whenever she would ask him to have their usual midnight escapade to the astronomy tower, he would decline, telling her that he was tired or that he had an essay to do. The Weasley twins never do their homework. Not ever.

On her way to divination class, a force from a grip on her wrist led her to the nearest broom closet, bodies pressed together as they both forced themselves to fit in the small space. Looking up at her kidnapper, she saw a familiar ginger. However, it was not the ginger that she was yearning for.

She feigned a sigh. “Look, Fred. You’re probably here to confess your undying love for me but I fancy somebody else. I’m so sorry. We can still stay as friends though, we can pretend that nothing ever happened.”

Fred cackled, earning a smile from the girl. “You do know how to make things less awkward, Youngheart. Maybe you should join me and George’s pranking streak? We could use that wit of yours into good use.”

Y/N frowned at the mention of the twin’s name, her eyes glossy with tears threatening to spill, earning a hug from the taller lad. “Aww, there, there, Youngheart. Everything’s gonna be okay.” Fred comforted, patting the back of her head as he wrapped his arms around her small shoulders and cuddled her like a newborn baby. The girl couldn’t help but show her vulnerability to the ginger. He was her best friend after all.

“What did I do, Fred? Did I do something wrong that could have upset him? Did I say something?” She couldn’t help but question. “I don’t know what to do.”

Before Fred could open his mouth to curse his twin and call him a dimwit, the subject man unbolted the small space, his face full of rage as its color became alike with his hair. “How could you, Fred?! How could you?!” He bellowed, causing the pair to pull away from each other and face him with wide eyes.

“George…” The girl stammered.

“How can you take Y/N from me when you know how much I fancied her?!” The younger twin growled.

“What?”

“It’s true! I fancy you, Youngheart. I really do! And it’s driving me mad because every time I see you with somebody else, a monster invades my whole being! And it’s not just the monster, it's the green monster!” George began. “At first I was clueless on why I was feeling that way but then I realized that it’s only love, Youngheart. So screw that. I don’t just fancy you. I love you!” He revealed, suddenly gaining the Gryffindor bravery and courage as a result of being too infuriated when he caught his twin and the girl he loved being too close in the small room.

“I love you, Y/N Youngheart. With all my mind, with my body, and with all my soul.” He added, finally processing the look of bewilderment in his best friend’s face. “I know we’re just best friends, Youngheart, and that you only see me like a brother but what I feel for you is in no way or form like that way. I-”

George’s small speech was interrupted as Youngheart pushed herself into him, tiptoeing as her hands made their way on the sides of his face, holding him, as their lips pin together in a deep passionate kiss. “I love you, too.”

George Weasley and Y/N Youngheart were crazy mad for each other. It took them a while to finally admit it to themselves but everything eventually fell into its place. What they have? It’s only love.

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

Author’s note: Merry Christmas! <3 Just a little TMI, my “Cry For Me” series that involves a George x Reader type story was supposed to come out this 25th. Unfortunately, I had to postpone it for inevitable circumstances. To make up for it, here’s a short work made by yours truly. Enjoy the holidays! x Daisy

Find me and my works on AO3 too!

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It’s Only Love

216 notes · View notes

sinning5sos · 4 years

Text

Roommates | Calum

note - I am SO sorry I haven’t written in so long..

side note - I am completely in love with C it isn’t fair..

Requested: mmm YES I loved this request, thank you to the anon - please please please don’t hate me for how long it took :(

Request: “can i get some roommate!calum where there has been some tension for a long time and you have always thought he was hot, and one night at a party you see him with another girl and get jealous, but you fell into his trap bc he was trying to get you to be jealous so that he could make a move…”

Word Count: ~3.5K

Smut: hell yeah, oral, penetration, in public, whatever else

Jealousy

“Get out of bed, put on some clothes and come take a shot.” Calum’s voice rang out from the kitchen and you groaned as you rolled over in bed and looked towards the door. You could hear him shuffling around the cabinet where all the alcohol was, and knew that he was up to something.

“Calum,” You called, and heard him move over to your door and he grinned at you as he held two shot glosses and a bottle of vodka in his hand.

“Let’s go out,” He said, and walked into your room. He knelt at the edge of your bed before he climbed over your body and sat beside you, “We haven’t gone out downtown in so long and I feel like dancing. So let’s go.”

“But I want to stay in bed and watch movies,” You grumbled.

“You’ve been moping in your room for way too long. I’m tired of it. You were all happy and fun pre-relationship, you got lame during the relationship, and you’re lame post-relationship… so I’m making you un-lame.” He said.

You rolled your eyes as you thought about it. You have been a bit of a bum since your last relationship ended, but you wanted to have a fun and carefree night with your best friend, so you agreed. “Fine, let’s make a deal. We watch one movie and then we go out afterwards.”

“Fine, but it has to be a comedy.” He declared.

“You can’t make a deal on a deal,”

“It’s not making another deal, it’s just adding in a clause.” He said, a satisfactory grin on his face as you rolled his eyes.

“Go make us some snacks Thomas, and we can go from there.”

“I’ll make us snacks if you take a shot now,” He said, and held up the shot glasses and you shook your head yes, laughing at how eager he was. He handed you your shot glass and poured a very full shot. You waited until he poured his own and clinked before throwing them back, a bitter expression on your face as you swallowed the vodka straight.

“Now, snacks.” You said, and he took the shot glasses from you and went back out into the kitchen. You heard him move around the kitchen while you browsed for movies, before ultimately settling on a stand-up special that the two of you have seen multiple times instead. He came back in a few minutes later, his arms full of snacks and what looked like mixed drinks as he set them on your end table and climbed back onto your bed. You were curled up slightly facing the middle on the outside of the bed, and he reached over you to place the bowl of popcorn and other random snacks in between you two, and mirrored your body as he laid on the opposite side.

“I did miss you, y’know?” He muttered, his eyes moving up from the television and met yours instead.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Cal. But I’m thankful for you. You’ve been by my side through the highs and the lows, so I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You whispered. He smiled at you as he scooched so he was slightly closer to you, the top of your heads just gently touching and you hummed a bit as the stand-up special started.

* * *

“Girl if you don’t hurry your damn self up,” Calum yelled from outside of the bathroom and you groaned as you set the beauty blender down on the counter.

“Calum, if you want me to have fun tonight then you have to let me do my thing.” You protested, and he chuckled as he joined you in the bathroom and sat on the counter and looked at you.

“Yeah, but you look so beautiful already.” He said, and you smiled as you shook your head and he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

“You don’t look so bad yourself handsome,” You said, and he winked as he started playing music from his phone before he huffed.

“I turned on the speaker before I walked in here.” He grumbled, and pushed off of the counter and walked back out of the bathroom.

If it wasn’t for the three shots now in your body (although one of them didn’t count as it was taken over an hour ago) you would have thought more about the butterflies that appeared in your stomach as Calum had complimented you.

The two of you had been roommates for the past year, friends for even longer than that. You two had always had a lot of chemistry, but you never dated due to the timing being off or fear of making things weird between you. There’s been a few drunken kisses, but those didn’t count cause you had kissed others the same night… so why would you think of how Calum’s lips felt against yours every so often?

The familiar hum of the speaker sounded from the kitchen, and Calum’s pregame playlist started blaring from the speakers and you laughed as he came back into the bathroom and sat up onto the counter once more.

“So what are your goals for the night? Your dreams? Your aspirations?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes as you continued doing your makeup.

“What do you mean Thomas?” You asked and he chuckled once again.

“I mean, are you making out with a guy tonight? Maybe a handjob in the bathroom? Bringing a guy home and I’ll awkwardly eat in the kitchen so I’m not hungover tomorrow morning?” He teased.

You shrugged your shoulders as you looked over at him.

“Maybe a quickie in the bathroom with some random guy instead, spare both you and I the awkward encounters in the morning.” You said, and noticed that he lost a bit of his smile but quickly regained his composure.

“Are you almost ready? I swear, women take so long to get ready when they don’t need to.” He quickly recovered and sent a wink towards you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, acting as if you were insulted but really you knew he was just kidding.

“I mean, you already look good without makeup. You look good with your hair being just straightened now, but you’re still sitting here getting ready. You look great, I look great, let’s go take another shot, climb into the uber and stumble into a nightclub so you follow your dreams.” He rambled.

You laughed as you shook your head.

“I’m almost done Cal, just a few more finishing touches. And I’m not doing it for some random guy to have a quickie with nor any guy I want to grab the attention of. It feels nice to get all dressed up every so often and go full hair and make-up.” You said, and he nodded thoughtfully.

“Makes sense. Are you done yet?”

You laughed again as you shook your head, and grabbed the last few things that you needed in order to finish getting ready for the night.

“Nearly.” You answered. You grabbed the finishing spray for your face and the perfume from the shelf. You placed them back onto your side of the cabinet, and Cal smiled as he turned the music up on his phone and soon it was echoing throughout the apartment the two of you shared.

“Girl the way you’re moving, got me in a trance”

“If this song doesn’t play tonight, it’s not worth it.” He said.

* * *

“DJ turn me up, ladies this your jam, (come on),”

The club was always packed on the weekend, but tonight was extremely busy. Bodies were everywhere, but it felt like you were in your own little world dancing with Calum by your side. Somehow you had made it into the center of the dance floor right by the mirror, and you were enjoying the shows that Calum was putting on for you and everybody around to see.

Your heart fluttered every time his eyes caught contact with yours, but you just thought that it was the new shots in your body that was causing you to react that way.

Calum gestured for you to come closer, and you laughed as he pulled you in so he could lean in to you.

“Go dance with a random guy or we won’t go out again,” He yelled in your ear and you rolled your eyes as you pulled back from him. You didn’t want to go dance with some random guy, you were content with him.

“Do you promise?” You said, pouting up at him and he chuckled. His hand left the small of your back and you had a small part of you realize that you craved that touch on you constantly.

“Seriously,” He yelled again, and you sighed, “I want you to have fun. If that means going and dancing with a random guy, I want you to go and do it. Do it, for me.”

“Whatever Calum,” You said, and continued to dance in front of the mirror and he frowned.

“You called me Calum,” He yelled.

“Yeah?” You shrugged your shoulders as you looked up at him, and he leaned forward so his lips were grazing your ear.

“You never call me Calum. What’s wrong Princess?” He murmured in your ear.

You frowned as you leaned back so you could look at him.

“Nothing, I’ll go find someone to dance with.” You said. You finished off your drink and handed it to him, and his frown deepened as he watched you walk away. You found a tall handsome man, some blue eyed blondie that looked a bit like a lumberjack but he wasn’t Calum, so you were fine dancing with him.

You smiled shyly at him, acting innocent and drawing him in in the easiest ways, and it wasn’t long before the guy had his arms wrapped around you. The two of you were grinding to the music, his hands on your waist as he pulled you close to him. It wasn’t anything truly fun, it wasn’t Calum.

You looked throughout the club to see where he had ended up, and it felt as if a knife twisted in your gut as you saw him talking with another girl. It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything, but you still felt disgusted at the way that she was looking up at him.

The song ended and the guy moved so he was now in front of you, and offered to buy you a drink. You politely declined and made your way through the club into the bathroom, and locked yourself into the bathroom as you stared in the mirror. Maybe it was the alcohol that was now rapidly leaving your body, or the fact that you were lonely, but the idea of Calum with another girl left a bad taste in your mouth. There was a knock at the door and you sighed.

“Just a second,” You yelled, hoping the stranger would hear you over the club's music. There was another knock and you grumbled to yourself as you went over to the door and opened it. You were surprised to see Calum standing there, and he pushed you back slightly into the bathroom and closed the door, then locked it behind him.

“What’s going on with you?” He asked, and your cheeks burned as you leaned up against the sink.

“What?”

“Please. I felt you watching me and that girl when we were talking earlier. I saw your face, I saw the jealousy. So tell me, how were you feeling? What’s going through your head right now?” He asked. You sighed as you crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged your shoulders.

“Calum,”

“Ah, see? Something is wrong, so just tell me what it is. You didn’t like seeing me with another girl, did you?” He said. There was a slight teasing tone in his voice, but there was something else there as well, something darker.

“Fine, I’ll be honest. I don’t like seeing you with someone else right now.”

“Why, are you jealous?” He asked. His eyes narrowed down at you and he licked his lips.

“No, I’m not jealous. We’re not together so why should I be jealous?”

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah, I love you, you idiot. I always love you,”

“No no, not in that way. You love me in the ‘I want you to fuck me in this bathroom right now and then take me home’ way instead.” He stated. Your mouth dropped at his words, and you started laughing as you realized he was serious.

“Calum Thomas Hood, you cannot be serious right now.”

“I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because we’re roommates, we’re best friends, we don’t fuck.” You said, and he chuckled.

“Yeah well, you said you wanted just a quickie in the bathroom, right Princess?”

“Yeah, to avoid awkward encounters the next morning in our place Calum, not you.” You said, and he pushed up closer to you.

“You can deny it all you want. I know how you feel about me and I know how I feel about you Princess. Especially lately,” He murmured, and you swallowed as you knew he was right, “No denial? Nothing to say? Then, I think I make my point exactly and I want to hear you say yes.”

Your thoughts processed as you realized he was asking for consent, and you giggled as you ran your hands up his jaw and interlocked your fingers behind his head. You let go of every care or thought in your head as you nodded instead.

“Yes, Calum,” You said, and he chuckled as he leaned forward and connected your lips. This felt different than the other times the two of you had kissed. This time, there was more passion, more desire behind his movements. Soon, he had his arm snake its way around your waist and he was pulling you closer against him.

You moaned out as he bit your lip, and you felt a deep blush coat your cheeks as he chuckled. He pulled back, and nudged your nose with his.

“Don’t be embarrassed. That was hot. I’ve heard your moans before, but they sound even better when I’m the one who caused it.” He murmured.

“Oh,” You whimpered, and he chuckled again as he leaned down. You were expecting a kiss again, but instead he kissed the side of your jaw, and trailed a set of kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone.

You closed your eyes as you felt his mouth rest against your collarbone, his teeth grazing the skin just enough to make you moan again. You didn’t need the foreplay at this point, but you were craving him.

He helped you move onto the sink counter, and you immediately spread your legs for him to be closer to you. His hand grazed up your calf and latched onto your thigh, gripping it harshly. You giggled as he squeezed, before he removed his lips from your skin and looked down at you.

“Can I eat you out?” He asked. You were a bit taken back by how bold he was, you hadn’t seen this side of him before but you quickly nodded. He grinned at your approval and pushed his fingers into the band of your skirt and unzipped the zipper so he could push it up your midsection and your lower body was exposed now.

You had a slight shiver at the coolness of the countertop against your exposed skin, but his mouth trailed kisses on your thigh and you were focused on that.

“Let me get a taste of you, then we can have some fun,” He murmured against your thigh. You whimpered as you nodded, and moved your hands down to his head and threaded your fingers into his hair.

“I love your curls,” You whispered, and he chuckled as he angled his head up to you.

“I’m about to eat you out in the middle of a club bathroom, and you’re complimenting my curls?” He asked, a grin on his face.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” You whispered back to him. He shook his head and you giggled as he pressed another kiss to your inner thigh before letting one last kiss go against your underwear. He adjusted you so he could slide the fabric down and teased a finger along your slit.

“Cal,” You moaned. He chuckled once again before pushing in one of his fingers.

“Use your words, Princess.” He murmured and you rolled your eyes but nodded.

“Please Cal, I want this so badly,” You whined and he nodded as well. He licked up against your slit and your body jolted at the contact. Your hand tightened its grip in his hair and his mouth continued to move against you. You whimpered again as you felt his tongue glide across your clit and you continued to moan out as he ate you out.

You were so surprised at yourself, you never would have imagined the night would have led to this. You weren’t at all upset that it was going the way it was, but you were just surprised. Surprised at the fact that you were letting someone eat you out in a public bathroom, surprised even more at the fact that it is Calum.

Your orgasm continued to build as Calum’s mouth moved against you, and it wasn’t long before you were pushing his head away and pulling him up towards you,

“I’ve had enough, I want you now.” You murmured. He quickly complied and undid his pants just enough to pull his cock out. He pumped it a few times before he lined up with your hole, and didn’t give a warning as he pushed himself in. You moaned again at the feeling of him inside you now, and leaned back against the wall as he started to fuck you. It was so passionate and rough, yet still gentle and it truly felt as if he cared. You wrapped your arms around his back, hanging on tightly as his lips moved to your neck and he was whispering in your ear,

“How’s it feel, baby girl?”

“So good Calum,” You whined, and he grunted in approval. You arched your back so your front was against him, and he moaned at your new position.

“I’m so close Cal,” You whimpered, and he nodded as he moved to kiss you on the lips now instead.

“Go ahead Princess,” He murmured against your lips, and your fingers dug into his shoulders as you came for him, and he continued to fuck you throughout your orgasm, until you were whimpering. He pulled out and you did your best to quickly get down off from the counter and adjusted. You were going to go down on your knees but he shook his head.

“It’s fine, I don’t want you on your knees on the bare floor.” He murmured. You shook your head and laughed as you took his jacket off from his body and placed it on the floor. You got down on your knees in front of him, and he rolled his eyes but closed them as your hand wrapped around his cock.

“You took such good care of me, let me finish you off. Let me taste you,” You teased him.

He nodded as you slowly started to shift his hand, but you saw how needy he was and how close to finishing he was. You licked his tip and collected the bit of precum as you continued to jerk him off, and it wasn’t long before he was cumming into your mouth.

“Wow, what a sight that is,” He murmured as he wiped a bit of himself off from the corner of your mouth and you shook your head as you stood back up. He glanced down at his jacket in disgust, and then just shoved it into the trash as you cleaned yourself up.

“Good thing I didn’t want this jacket anymore anyways,” He mumbled and you smiled. You kissed him on the cheek and the two of you helped each other look presentable enough to go back out into the club.

Your cheeks burned as you opened the door and someone was waiting outside of the bathroom with a look on their face, but Calum chuckled as he interlocked your fingers and started pulling you back through the club. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and ordered the Uber to get back home, before you were leaning against him.

He chuckled to himself, and you looked up to see what was making him laugh. He looked down at you, a grin on his face as he asked, “Round two at home?”

344 notes · View notes

the-other-art-blog · 4 years

Text

Little Women (book): Chapter 44 My Lord and My Lady!!!

I mean just the title of the chapter makes me smile. Seriously, why didn’t Greta adapted this chapter??? It’s about money and art. It was perfect for her movie. I’m sorry, I just can’t get over the fact that Timmy had no idea this happened. But anyway, this is about the book. There’s so much to discuss, this will be long.

Come on, Laurie goes to Orchard to get Amy back home because he can’t possibly find something. Sweetheart.

They do a simile with the weather that’s beautiful and it’s basically Laurie saying that Amy keeps him grounded and focus. And Amy replies saying,

‘Lovely weather so far. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning how to sail my ship.’

This is a recurrent quote. When I read it the first time, I thought she was talking about her alone. But she’s talking about the marriage. Everything so far has been amazing, love among roses. But she knows there will be difficult times and she’s ready to take them. This is bittersweet because we know Amy will suffer multiple miscarriages before their Bess is born. And even then, she’s going to be a frail child.

I read an article that blamed Amy for discouraging Laurie in his pursuit to become a composer. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Since Laurie was in Vienna, he realized he didn’t have what it takes to be a genius, just like Amy. Then he began craving for hard and earnest work. Now, back in Concord Laurie is proud to say he will continue his grandfather business. Amy’s parents are very pleased to hear that. I’m sure everyone was surprised to see the changes in Laurie, from the boy who didn’t even want to go to college to an honest and hard-working man, responsible for his own family.

But Amy also has plans. She’s going to be a lady of society, as any woman who married into a family like the Laurences should have done. But they also plan to be a good influence in that society.

Once their gone, Mr. and Mrs. March talk about them. They both agreed they are happy and that it will last. Marmee is especially proud. She was worried when Amy told her about Fred Vaughn, but now she is relieved that Amy knew best and chose the best man for her. Jo agrees, though she still longs for the same happiness. But it quickly fades because Mr. Bhaer enters the house!!! These two are such dorks.

Going back to Amy and Laurie... it’s just too amazing.

Everyone, except Jo, knows Bhaer is there for Jo. Amy is a bit worried that Laurie may be jealous. It’s not that, just that he would prefer Bhaer to be younger and richer. He just wants a good life for his best friend/sister. Amy reminds him a woman should never marry for money. Ahh this is great!

‘I’d have married you if you hadn’t a penny, and I sometimes wish you were poor that I might show how much I love you.’

‘You don’t really think I am such a mercenary creature as I tried to be once, do you? It would break my heart if you didn’t believe that I’d gladly pull in the same boat with you, even if you had to get your living by rowing on the lake.’

I’m just going to leave those quotes for anyone who thinks she married Laurie for money. Laurie says he and Marmee talk about that. If anything, what attracted her the most, or at least initially to Laurie was his looks.

‘Yes, I am, and admiring the mple in your chin at the same time. I don’t wish to make you vain, but I must confess that I’m prouder of my handsome husband than of all his money. Don’t laugh, but your nose is such a comfort to me.’ And Amy softly caressed the well-cut feature with artistic satisfaction.

This is Amy. She is a visual person and enjoys seeing beautiful things, so forgive her for choosing the most handsome man in town.

Amy does show some insecurities towards Jo but Laurie reassures he’s happy with her. So then they discuss a way of helping Jo and Bhaer. Because that’s Amy’s dream: to help others. She says it over and over again!!! They could have gone to donate to charities like so many other rich people do, but instead the decide to help talented people achieve their artistic ambitions.

It’s so fitting. Both Laurie and Amy gave up their dreams of being famous artists because they didn’t have genius. They could have grown bitter about it. But instead they decide to help those who really have genius. I love them.

Amy is also a very grateful person. She acknowledges that she achieved her current status because she got help from lots of people. I don’t remember if the whole “I want to make my own way into the world” conversation actually happened in the book. But Aunt March was right in the 2019 movie. No one, NO ONE succeeds on their own. We all need people,we all need help. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Jo herself needed her family, the public and the editors to succeed. The important thing is always to say “thank you”.

Ambitious girls have a hard time, Laurie, and often have to see youth, health, and precious opportunities go by, just for want of a little help at the right minute. People have been very kind to me, and whenever I see girls struggling along, as we used to do, I want to put out my hand and help them, as I was helped.’

Greta exploited that first line in this quote during the whole press tour, but I’m not sure she remembers why Amy’s saying that. The point is, Amy wants to help girls achieve their dreams. And here’s another “prophetic” element. May Alcott Nieriker was not only a talented painter. She also wrote a guide for women called Studying Art Abroad and How To Do It Cheaply. I don’t have the actual information now, but I think she also wrote columns in a newspaper encouraging women to study art. Neither May nor Amy were Queen Bees, they wanted to succeed, but they also wanted other to be with them. That’s amazing.

Laurie is on board. I mean, they have grown so much. Both of them started as probably the most spoiled characters. And now they are deciding to become a philanthropist couple.

So the young pair shook hands upon it, and then paced happily on again, feeling that their pleasant home was more homelike because they hoped to brighten other homes, believing that their own feet would walk more uprightly along the flowery path before them, if they smoothed rough ways for other feet, and feeling that their hearts were more closely knit together by a love which could tenderly remember those less blest than they.

You can ship whoever you want, but don’t trash this couple cause they are nothing but kind, generous and grateful. And they’ve achieved it with each other’s help and love.

In my opinion, people who hate Amy and Amy and Laurie read the book until Jo rejects Laurie. Then they do a tantrum and stopped reading/ paying attention. Honestly, that’s the only explanation I can think of for all the hate Amy receives.

#little women #little women 2019 #amy march #amy and laurie #Amy x Laurie #Jo and Laurie #jo x bhaer #louisa may alcott #seriously what's wrong with people who hate Amy #ugh I can't #apparently no one is ever allowed to make one mistake ever #except if you're Jo or Laurie than you can screw up dozens of times and people will ignore it #isn't being a Christian means being able to forgive?#honestly Greta #you had so much material

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peeterparkr · 4 years

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perfidy;tom holland|14

chapter 14: the side-stories

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: harry, tim, the oh shit moments and the ice cream.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, smut mention, angsty (?)

word count: 8k

here’s a playlist

and here’s another one

and here’s another one inspired by 1D

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) :

before boarding: Haz wants free breakfast, Tim reaches out, and James gets protective

On flight : Tom joins a club, y/n tweets from the sky and Emma reaches out

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

So, the chapter came earlier because I had time and inspo and because I really wanted to get to this chapter already. Anyway, huge thanks to @hxpeysuenxs for helping me out to get my ideas straight and also... PLEASE!

Go read ‘the moment’ by @jambrosemc it’s a spinoff which I consider canon for Tim and y/n’s relationship.

In movies they always manage a “meet-cute” moment, you know the guy who's walking his dog and the dog runs off to the girl of his dreams, or the clumsy— why is she always clumsy?—The clumsy girl who accidentally spills coffee on the guy and then he immediately falls in love with her. Stupid and cliché but they never fail. The repetitive script that we all know and adore.

The guy who ends up with the girl, the girl who’s always so different from the rest. The girl who gives up her dream for a guy. You know, those incredible moments at airports when she runs to him and he declares his love, or he stops traffic or… any kind of cute crap we all know and adore. Those breathtaking moments.

The movies, however, never show the “oh shit” moments, the moments when you realize that you’re way deep in love with them. The moment when you know that there’s no going back. The moment when you feel like you’re screwed.

Harry knew of those. Especially of the ‘oh shit’ moment, he’d had it with Y/N, when she’d turned 16. He remembered it, she had only started dating that idiot, Louis. Complete idiot, but y/n didn’t realize it until he dumped her hours before prom, but we already know that story.

But when she turned 16, Louis had thrown her a party, under the … stars and the sea? It didn’t make any sense, not for y/n’s style. But Harry had taken her out after the party, to this café. And after hours and hours of talking and laughing. He remembered seeing y/n look outside, at the cars, and then chuckle to herself. And Harry thought she was the most beautiful girl he would ever see, with the most melodic laugh the most perfect smile.

And that’s when Harry thought: “Oh, shit.”

Harry also knew of the typical “meet-cute”, he’d heard of one and he’d lived one. Which wasn’t exactly how they’d met but… how one of them had realized of the existence of the other.

Timmy and y/n had had one, long before they officially met. Harry had heard from Tim how he’d “met her” long before they’d met, the meet cute turned into the ‘oh shit’.

Tim had already seen her, they had a class together, and the way Timmy described it, Harry knew it. Tim was perfect for y/n.

“She’d walked in, 16 minutes late to the lecture, she didn’t even have to explain what had happened. Her head was soaking from the rain, she was carrying like twenty bags and she was holding her car keys, to the convertible, now I know exactly what happened….and she’d bit her lip and tried to quietly make her way to the back, and she failed because she dropped everything, and I remember seeing her, stare at her stuff, scoff and then she cursed under her breath, pulled out her soaking notebook and glared at me because I laughed. And I thought she hated me, but I just—I saw a main character, you know? She literally just—God, she looked so pretty. And I thought oh, shit, I don’t even know her and I’m already in love with her.”

They were probably each other’s endgame, and Harry knew that. How difficult it had been for him to finally accept it when they had initially started dating.

But Harry wasn’t bitter about it, because Harry had seen y/n’s light turn off before Timmy. And slowly Timmy had brought y/n back from the death, if that made any sense at all. Y/N smiled again with Timmy, and she would laugh again and she would be herself, and that’s all Harry cared about.

Harry knew that y/n’s sudden downfall had all to do with Tom, even though his brother never addressed that matter. Harry was completely sure that Tom and Y/N would always have unresolved issues because even if Harry didn’t like to admit it to himself, Tom and Y/N made sense, in the most stupid way they could. Even if they didn’t. Such a complicated relationship that Harry knew was only a redundant way to cover up for the fact that they probably both loved each other. Yes, Harry was not dumb and he knew Tom probably had always reciprocated y/n’s feelings. In his own particular way.

It’s easy, when you’re in love with someone you see who else is, because you’re observant, because you know how it feels. Harry wasn’t observant but he knew his brother too well not to notice that Tom practically drooled every time y/n would walk into the room.

No, Harry wasn’t stupid. But Harry had probably been the only one who knew. Or he thought so.

He was very conflicted about Tom, because sometimes it genuinely seemed like y/n was his biggest enemy and that Tom was actually trying to destroy her. But there were other times when Tom wasn’t as good to hide up the fact that y/n made him blush.

Our bodies never help us to hide up our feelings, no matter how good we think we are at hiding it and no matter how good of an actor he was. We all get weak. Specially when we are in love, it seems to be the best way to tumble down our walls.

The eyes, Chico, they never lie. And Tom’s eyes didn’t lie. Whether he said he hated y/n or not, Tom’s gaze was only for y/n.

“Y/N only likes me because I’m a movie star,” Tom said once.

But Harry didn’t stomach why Tom had never understood how y/n had loved him way long before he even considered being an actor. She’d said to Harry after Tom had gone to prom with her, how she also quite could figure it out.

Harry remembered how Tom had broken her heart back then, he’d just been cast as Spiderman.

“Congratulations, you now get to say Spiderman took you to prom.”

Harry knew Tom and Y/N had kissed back then.

“I think it’s funny how Tom always forgets I loved him before he turned into whatever he is today.”

Tom often did forget that. Tom often forgot that y/n had loved him for a long while now. And he couldn’t really understand why his brother would continuously rip y/n’s heart apart. And why did she choose Tom over the course of the years? Harry had been right beside her, always. But he never said anything.

Harry had almost told her how he felt before she left for Rome. He hadn’t, but he thought that she knew it.

And it had almost happened.

Y/N was almost finished packing, she was roaming around the room.

“I mean it’s the whole summer,” she explained.

“But you’re gonna wash your clothes, y/n,” Harry laughed. “Hey, what if we—take a break? You know, let’s order a pizza or something and then we will come back and finish with all this mess.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate twice.

Harry barely remembered how it happened, they’d ended up on the couch. Like any other night, it wasn’t special, it was just another rainy night in London. The lights went out after a lightning stroke, and y/n only jumped to his arms.

Harry held her close, and she only hugged him back. This wasn’t weird, y/n was affectionate but of course, Harry somehow felt it was his last chance.

He only stared deep into her eyes, and she sensed it. His eyes travelled down to her lips, and they stayed quiet, for a bit. Harry hesitated on whether he should make a move or not. He only leaned in slightly, and her gaze was scared, but she was leaning over, too. But maybe they had been tired, or maybe it had been the moment. But both of them knew it was wrong, and both of them pulled away before they could even get closer. She stood up quickly, out of his grasp.

“Uh, I’ll… I’ll continue packing, sorry, I uh…” She didn’t say anything. “No…”

“I’m sorry… I yeah, let’s get to packing--”

And they had, so vigorously ignoring what just had happened.

“Y/N about what happened-” Harry had said before he left her apartment.

“We will talk when I come back.”

But they hadn’t.

Harry had noticed about three years ago just after she’d come back from Rome, how y/n’s eyes would brighten up even more each time Tom smiled, and how Tom would stop to listen whenever y/n spoke. Harry didn’t mind if they were dating.

Not really.

Though it was a burden to bear, the reminiscent smiles were only a hint for it.

Of course he’d be heartbroken, we can’t control our emotions and feelings. But he’d be happy because if anything, Harry cared too much for his brother. And he genuinely loved y/n too much to impede her from being happy.

And Harry himself had always been skeptical about his own feelings towards y/n. Had it been only a whim caused by a stupid childhood crush? No, it was love.

It was love. There is nothing more painful than to love and know you’ll never be loved back.

But he had accepted y/n and Tom were secretly dating back then, or whatever they were doing. Big was his surprise when they’d seen each other at the club.

Which brings us to our meet-cute, going back to y/n and Timothee.

Harry perfectly remembered how that night had gone, and he knew y/n, and he knew Tom. And Harry wanted an answer, if there was anything that Harry hated was the fact that Tom never admitted it. Why didn’t he?

Or was Harry too dumb and too jealous and blaming the fact that y/n didn’t love him back that he had made himself think that Tom loved her too?

Maybe Tom had never loved her.

But he’d seen y/n fade away that night, he had seen how happiness had left her body. Harry could swear he had heard y/n’s heart shatter on that nightclub when Tom was kissing that pink shirt.

And it wasn’t like this was the first time Tom broke her heart. He’d seen it again, and again, and again. And he’d seen how y/n would only take a deep breath, look away, and ignore the usual cold tear shedding. Harry would always silently offer his shoulder.

But that night, he hadn’t. And he wondered what could’ve happened if he had. Timmy had made her smile even at that precise moment when y/n’s heart had broken into pieces. That’s how incredible Timmy was. Even in the darkest time, Timmy had made y/n smile.

And Harry remembered wanting to fight Tom the very next day, without addressing what was really going on. He only wanted to kick his brother's ass and tell him off for breaking y/n’s heart again, but he hadn’t. Because Harry himself didn’t understand it, if they had been dating why had Tom so deliberately crushed her heart?

That’s what Harry never understood, why would anyone do that? Make them fall in love with you only so you could hurt them? And Harry had seen Tom do it again, and again. Gaining y/n’s trust only so he could break her, betray her in any possible way.

However, nobody had seen what had happened. Tom hadn’t gone home with that pink skirt, after y/n had left with Sam, Tom had drifted away from her, and then had left with Haz and Tuwaine.

Tom had only pulled an act to mess with y/n.

Harry had stayed with the other group, the one with Timmy and Emma. Emma… that was another story.

And the very next day, Harry had seen Tom with tears in his eyes in the kitchen, looking up and asking questions to the ceiling. Swearing to himself.

Harry didn’t talk to him initially, until he saw him coming back with yellow flowers. He seemed nervous.

“Tom, were you and y/n on a date?” Harry had asked him.

Tom watched him. “No.”

“Did she know that?” Asked Harry with venom.

“Yes.”

“Are you fucking sure?” Harry snapped. “You are very aware that she’s got feelings for you.”

Tom looked away. “Well she’s dumb,” Tom said. “She should clearly be in love with you instead.”

“That’s not what we are talking about,” Harry sassed. “Did she or did she not know that it wasn’t a date?”

“No.”

“What was it, then?” Harry asked. “And why did you buy her flowers?”

“How did—“

“Yellow flowers? She loves them.”

“I will go and apologize for making her believe that I could—I dunno.”

“Why do you insist on breaking her heart?” Harry wondered, “she’s—She’s the most amazing girl and you’re so fucking lucky that she loves you. Why would you insist on hurting her? She’s done nothing wrong to you, and her fucking biggest sin is that she loves you, and you did that? You think I didn’t see you? Strolling around giving her hope and making her fall in love with you? Go and tell her you don’t love her, because deep down she thinks you do, and she’s so stupid for believing that. But I swear Tom if you dare to keep that door open for her it’ll only get worse, let her be, and stop playing with her heart. Close that door forever.”

And he saw him leave and then come back, with a bag full of dirt. He saw him, kicking the couch, he heard him yelling and then he saw him, downing beer after beer.

Tom hadn’t spoken to anyone for a few days.

And then y/n hadn’t spoken to any of them for months, she barely answered his texts. She would cancel on their lunch, and she would blame it on school. He’d seen her on campus, without her smile and the usual sunshine that followed her. He’d try to reach out to her but she would back away.

But Harry saw someone there… Tim. Little by little he saw the green eyed fella walking with y/n more and more. And little by little, y/n’s sunshine was coming back.

He had seen her in the halls, walking with him. How Timmy would always make her smile, and blush. And Harry loved seeing that again.

Harry knew that they were probably made for each other. Initially, when Timothee had appeared he wasn’t as fond. You can never be too fond of someone who is also in love with the girl you’re in love with. But for Harry it was different.

For each and every rom-com he’d watched, for research purposes, he claimed, he had seen the perfect meet cute and the guy whom the girl is supposed to end with. And when Harry had once again heard y/n’s melodic laugh back, he knew Tim was her endgame.

And he decided that it was time to move on. And he had, exactly with his “meet cute”, Emma.

Emma had accidentally spilled her drink on Harry. And Harry would be lying if he ever said there wasn’t a strike of electricity when he’d looked into her eyes, like in movies, when the guy meets the girl.

Emma.

Who initially wasn’t fond of y/n, because of course, the girl didn’t even look at her best friend, and there was Timmy, all smitten with her. But Emma had become the perfect friend y/n could ask for.

And the perfect girl Harry could never imagine.

Emma had told him a lot about Timothee.

“It's amazing we bumped into you guys that night, Timmy here had always had a crush on the girl with the cute jeans and dirty sneakers.”

And he fell in love with Emma as an accident. He hadn’t planned it, and neither did Emma. Because it all started as two people hanging out because their respective best friends were in a relationship. Not because they had to, because they had wanted to. And they started to hang out, and Harry knew it, it had been one night under the stars, when Harry knew he was finally over y/n.

And it was great. Until… y/n broke up with Timmy. Old feelings resurfaced. But when it occurred, Harry remembered how she had walked in, around New Years.

He remembered how conflicted he’d been, trying to hold her hand, and how he had briefly opened his heart to her, but it hadn’t felt right. He knew it, he was over her. And though it hurt seeing her like this, he didn’t… feel the same. All he could think about when y/n was crying on her shoulder was Emma. And y/n had become a bittersweet song, an undermining memory.

Emma was an accident, and she’d changed all of Harry’s plans. Initially, she had become a distraction, from whatever Harry was doing at the time, but slowly she dug her way into his heart. Emma was someone Harry would’ve never thought he’d fall in love with, but she was someone who now he never wanted to lose. That’s why he had proposed.

But he had been… conflicted. When Emma told him she’d ask y/n to be her maid of honor...it felt weird.

Why did he feel weird? It was normal, right?

Maybe it was weird because he had a feeling that Y/N probably was again falling into Tom’s spell.

Of course, he had asked Haz and Sam. And they’d denied it. He had asked James, though. He hadn’t denied it, he didn’t confirm it..

“I don’t know.”

Simple answer.

And Harry didn’t, either.

Because maybe it hurt him. But it didn’t hurt him in the way one would think, it would hurt. It hurt in the way that he knew where Tom would go. Again breaking her heart.

So he wondered why y/n was so stupid. How was she going there again? And was she?

Did he have to reach out for her? And why did she keep ignoring him?

He knew he couldn’t be for her this time. Or did he have to?

Why did she keep ignoring him? Why did it bother him so much?

Harry knew. Because y/n was his own first love. And it hurt to think of it that way, but he looked back at it. Like an old memory. An old song.

And he found it funny, how y/n was someone who planned ahead and stuck to real thoughts, and yet she was always finding herself at the crazy curveballs. Which made her stay out of her lane. Out of Harry’s path.

But maybe they were meant to stay that way, with their paths never touching, and their words never colliding. Only for a friendship.

Maybe Harry had to let go off the plan, because he had a new one. With Emma.

That didn’t stop Harry from reaching out to her.

“Hello? Harry! Hello!” Y/N answered facetime. She was in the lobby, and she seemed tired, but her smile brightened up as soon as she saw her best friend.

“Hey! How is it going?” Harry grinned as soon as he had seen her.

“Good, good, uh, Tom and I just checked in on the hotel,” she explained, her voice was muffled then. “Wanna say hi to your brother?” She moved the phone and Tom gulped but waved.

“Hey!” Was all he said.

“Uh—y/n, I actually had to talk to you, I’ll talk to Tom later so maybe—“

Y/N stayed quiet. “I’ll—give me a sec.” She had turned off the camera.

Harry was sweating, he didn’t understand why he’d taken up the courage to call her. It was late for him, but he couldn’t sleep unless he reached out to her. Because he knew all of this would go wrong and he couldn’t be right beside her.

A muffled Tom could be heard, barely, but he was there. “Yeah, yeah, see you in a bit.”

Which had Harry wondering, were they in separate rooms at the hotel? And why the fuck did it matter?

“Harry!” A cheerful y/n said after she’d turned it back on, she still seemed to be somwehere in the lobby which only made Harry’s suspicion higher. “Hola.”

“Y/N,” Harry grinned. “Salut.”

It was a very stupid tradition they had. They had taken Spanish and French lessons together, yes y/n had learned french even before Timmy and it had stuck, they would randomly say words in either language.

“How’s New York?” Harry asked. “Finally you get to go to your dream place.”

“Well, the airport was nice,” she laughed as she plugged in her earphones. “And so far I’m… in love with the city, Tom said he’ll give me a tour because he…” She laughed. “Knows it so well because he’s Spider-Man,” she mocked

“Oh, don’t trust him, he’ll get you lost in five minutes,” Harry chuckled.

“Wait, it’s like 1 am over there isn’t it?” Y/N chuckled. “Why are you awake? Long day filming?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Harry admitted. “Gosh, it’s been crazy.”

“I bet, but you’re having fun aren’t you?” She wondered.

“A lot,” Harry admitted. “But uh-- I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Y/N cleared her throat. “Uhm… Is it about Emma’s… request?”

Harry didn’t answer. Had she not accepted it yet?

She smiled. “Because I haven’t had the time to answer her, but I’m going to say yes, don’t worry! I just wanted to sit down and write down a whole ass--”

“No, no, it’s not about that--But great!” Harry gulped. “No, no, it’s…”

“Yup?”

“It’s about Tom.”

The end of the line stayed dangerously quiet. She licked her lips and looked away. She didn’t move.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” she sighed. “I… What about Tom?”

Harry licked his lips. “I know you, y/n, I just… Don’t let him fool you again.”

“He’s not fooling me, I--where are you even coming from?” She coughed, she’d turned stiff. “I.. We’ve become friends and that’s it. We’re getting along.”

“I don’t have to be there to know you’re crushing on him again,” Harry explained. The tweets, the pictures, Tom and y/n constantly bickering on the group chat. James’ answer, the way Harrison had denied it so intensely and...The way that Tom had been ignoring Harry. Harry knew something was going on.

“I’m not,” she answered, but she had bit her inner cheek.

“Look, y/n,” he clicked his tongue. “I’m only worried because I don’t know if I’ll be able to be there with you, and--Tom sooner or later will hurt you.”

“Then you should call him up and tell him not to, don’t call me, I’m not… doing anything,” she snapped then squeezed her eyes shut. “Look, Harry, I can take care of myself, I’ve done it before and…”

“And how did that work out for you?” Harry frowned. “I’m just saying this because I’m your best friend.”

“But are you really saying it because of that, Harry?”

“What?” Harry frowned.

“No… Nothing, I’m just… I know where you’re coming from, but this time I won’t let him hurt me, and I.. I am not crushing on him.”

“Fine, I’m just… worried, okay? And I know it’s hard already...Having Timmy there and-”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I--Harry, I’m tired from my flight, okay? I need to go and take a shower and just…You know? I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Y/N I didn’t mean to-”

“Love you, bye!”

He shouldn’t have mentioned Timmy.

And Timmy truly didn’t know where he was standing. Timothee didn’t want to be too intrusive, but he couldn’t help it. He was jealous, that was unequivocally an understatement, Tom drove him insane. And Tim was getting prepared exactly just for that. Could anyone be prepared to see the love of their life happy with someone else?

Timmy had learned where they were staying. He had debated to himself whether or not he should bring her flowers, but over the course of the years he’d learned that y/n loved flowers, so it might give him a little… advantage.

There was possibly no way that he’d be able to bump into them. He didn’t even know when she’d arrive, and was it creepy? He probably was being creepy. He was standing in front of a hotel with little to no information of whether y/n would be there. He held the peonies as he headed to the entrance, he had to leave this was… no. He was being crazy right?

But he walked in, and he saw her, sitting down, bummed. Her hair resting against her hand, her hair falling down. She looked tired, but radiant at the same time, she looked like a summer song. And he wondered if this was the perfect movie moment, when the guy cheers up the girl and they fall back in love. He could easily run up to her and ask her to love him, and somehow, she’d do it.

But he couldn’t. He just watched her from afar, and if he knew her well enough, he knew she was about to shed a tear. She took a deep breath and tapped her foot anxiously.

What was troubling her? Maybe it had only taken a flight for Tom to break her heart. But… that wasn’t her ‘Tom screwed me over’ face. She seemed angry.

Tim was frozen, he wanted to approach her and be there to comfort whatever Tom had pulled this time but just as Timmy had finally managed to move, he saw Tom getting out of the elevator. Strutting with arrogance.

He stopped to watch the scene, he expected yelling. He thought y/n would turn around to Tom like she always did and yell at him. And Tim wanted to see the bickering, the usual fighting. But there… wasn’t any. Instead, Tom had come to wrap his arms around her from behind and placed a sweet kiss to her cheek. A smile came back to her face as she turned to face him, and they didn’t kiss this time, but the smile she dedicated him was all it took to break Tim. The glance y/n directed at Tom was the gaze Tim had fought so hard to get.

And it only took Tom a stupid kiss on her cheek.

Tim felt it again, the knife all across his chest as he watched them leave for the elevator, her hand clinging to his arm as he would lean over and whisper to her. And time stopped. And Timmy wished he hadn’t walked in to see that, he wished he hadn’t had the incredible idea to give her flowers. He wouldn’t have seen that, he shouldn’t have bought the stupid peonies.

Honestly, he would never get used to seeing that. He felt like someone had cut off a piece of his heart and crushed it right in front of him. Timmy never really understood why she loved Tom. However, he knew y/n didn’t know it either. She’d deny it, she’d avoid the subject. She’d never speak of Tom, unless it was to assure him she despised him. And yet, as the elevator door closed, he saw her, slowly placing a kiss on his lips.

That image had kept Timmy awake all night long, he’d blame it on the jet lag but it was unbearable. Because he wondered where had it all gone wrong? When had he stopped reading y/n?

But had he really?

The next day on set it got even worse, he saw them arrive, fingers locked and that smile Tim had gotten familiar with. The usual tender chuckle. But… was she happy?

She seemed to be, but… Maybe Timmy hadn’t completely forgotten how to read her. She seemed confused, was she?

Tim had brought the flowers again, though he probably shouldn’t have. He should’ve thrown away the peonies. But he couldn’t, y/n loved peonies.

Of course, he couldn’t… give them to her, so he just arranged someone to leave one at Tom’s trailer. Even when he knew that y/n could think they could come from Tom.

But maybe y/n hadn’t forgotten that Tim’s signature flowers were peonies. Hopefully she really hadn’t. But Tom did take the credit for, he’d seen y/n kiss Tom’s cheek.

And it hurt Timmy, but then she saw him… when she saw him, it felt like she knew. She just gave him a sad smile.

Filming for the next few days had been…painful. Y/N and him hadn’t talked, not really. Tom didn’t let her be around, not that he had forbidden it but anytime Tim would get close, Tom would rush in, and pull her close to him.

However, Timmy hadn’t stopped with the flowers, not big arrangement every day, a single peony every now and then, and he’d seen y/n with one, outside the trailer, confused...but she was too busy with Tom. And Tim had gotten to the idea, even if they hadn’t really talked about it. It was obvious. But Timmy faked blindness, even when it was too much to handle.

Like that day when Tom and Mad had slipped while dancing, and y/n let out a loud laugh as she rushed to see him...to see Tom.

“Did you just laugh?” Tom asked, chuckling.

“No,” but y/n couldn’t stop laughing. “Well—I—I… its cause you—“She let out a loud cackle that could even be confused with a snore.

Tim smiled to himself, he missed that laugh. The messy one, the one that told Tim she didn’t care anymore.

“You are still laughing,” Tom now started to laugh with her, as they threw their head back.

Timmy saw it, and he felt it. The way Tom has probably felt throughout their whole relationship. Because what hurt Timmy the most wasn’t that he couldn’t kiss her, what hurt Timmy the most was he wasn’t the reason for her smile anymore.

“Stop laughing!” Tom said.

And then y/n kissed Tom, repeatedly. Her hands cupping his face as she only smiled against his lips.

Well, maybe it did bother Tim.

Because there was just so… much kissing. It seemed like Tom never missed an opportunity to get his lips on y/n. It was so annoying, especially when Tim was around, he seemed to have a magnet to her lips, and his hands always on her waist.

They were disgusting. Other people called them adorable, but Tim called them disgusting.

Because it bothered him, and because he had been right. About all of this. That troubled Timmy enough, let alone the fact that they didn’t care if he was seeing, it was the fact that he had been right all along.

Never would have Timmy thought he’d end up with a cigarette on his mouth as he listened to a pianist on a New York bar. He had a scotch in his hands, and he could only wonder where y/n was. Probably with Tom, Tom probably was taking off her clothes and kissing that sweet spot on her neck that drove her crazy. Her clothes probably were on some fancy hotel floor, and her lipstick would be tattooing Tom’s body. And she probably was smiling, and Tom would get to hear her laugh, and she’d probably be moaning Tom’s name.

And Timmy couldn’t believe it. Where had he gone wrong? What in this world did Tom do to have y/n making a fool of herself for him?

And Timmy cried, even though he wasn’t really a crier, he couldn’t help it. Really, he couldn’t help it. But he soon forgot it, he started drinking with some random girl he’d met at that bar, with pretty eyes and a southern accent, she told him she was there looking for her dreams. And they had gone dancing instead because the piano had bored him, for the first time he was bored of a conversation, and he told her: I just want to dance, and the blue lights had barely helped him to forget y/n, as the girl kept grinding against him, and wrapping his arms around Timmy, but he could only think of y/n and how they were always dancing. But he kept drinking and smoking, and dancing. But y/n stayed on his mind, in his imagination. No matter how loud the music was going, and no matter how good looking the girl was, he couldn’t see anyone but the image of y/n. Because she was everywhere, in the music he was dancing to, in the shirt he was wearing, everywhere.

And Timmy wasn’t the guy to have a one night stand, and yet... He found himself walking out of a random wannabe New Yorker small studio to go back to his hotel. He wasn’t pleased with himself. That wasn’t him. But he had felt lonely, and he wasn’t over her, so he really only wanted to get his mind off of it. It hadn’t helped.

If anything, this was y/n’s fault, because he couldn’t help but think about it. He’d slept with a stranger, but that wasn’t what was bothering him… It was the fact he had danced with a stranger. And dancing, dancing was their thing.

Timothée was crying on the subway.

“I fucked up,” he texted Emma. “I miss her so much and I can’t stand this.”

Emma had called him immediately.

“Talk to me, Tim.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was… already awake, tell me,” Emma said.

“It’s just hard, Em,” he explained. “I don’t even know what to tell you, now, I feel like I’ve lost her and now, I just I know I fucked up by proposing but I--”

“Timmy, don’t say that.”

“But that was it, she faded away when I proposed, and that’s on me,” Tim sighed. “I should’ve known she wasn’t ready and that we--fuck, I don’t even know, I just want to win her back and be how we used to be, I miss her and her smile and her laugh and-”

“Aren’t you guys talking? I thought you told me you were on talking terms,” Emma answered.

“Not here, not in New York, and fuck, it makes it harder, New York makes it harder,” he explained. “Just before the proposal, we were planning on coming, you know? We had our whole trip planned, and in my head, I would have been walking down this city already engaged, and here I am, walking down to my fucking hotel after hooking up with some-”

“You hooked up with someone?” Emma questioned. “You?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then it must be bad.”

“I… just, I can’t stand seeing her with Tom,” Tim said. “I just… out of everyone.”

“Hold on-Tom?” Emma asked.

Tim bit his lip, did they not know about this?

“Yes, Tom… I thought you would know,” Timmy frowned. “Didn’t Harry tell you?”

“I don’t think Harry knows this,” Emma explained. “Which… is technically better for me, I guess.”

Timmy didn’t answer.

“I asked her… to be my maid of honour,” Emma explained. “Which I know, I’m sorry I would’ve asked you but…”

Timothée kept quiet.

“We both know she’s got history with the Hollands,” Emma sighed with sadness. “And although these are bad news for you, it…”

“I know.”

“Is it wrong?” Emma asked. “I know you love her Tim but… Is it wrong I still fear how she’ll act around Harry?”

“It’s not her who you’re worried about,” Tim sounded convinced.

“You’re right, but… You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” she explained. “And though she is not my enemy per se, I just can’t help but be anxious around her, after all she was Harry’s first love, and you’ve heard her say it.”

“True love might only be the first one,” Tim answered. “I know, but… I really think you shouldn’t worry.”

“And I really think you shouldn’t worry about Tom,” Emma insisted. “After all, he’s her enemy, and she might just be doing the same thing I’m doing, keeping her enemies close, and we both know Tom will eventually fuck up.”

“You’re right.”

Tim had texted y/n afterwards begging to go out for dinner, and y/n had eventually agreed, but it wasn’t really dinner she’d agreed on. Still, Tim was thinking about it. How he’d been right all along.

Tom did have feelings for y/n, and even if y/n had never admitted it. She had feelings for Tom.

And Timmy knew this, but it’s easier said than done. He couldn’t stomach and map out any emotions, how could he? He had been right, this whole time. But he also knew y/n, and he knew that y/n was someone who always had her mind busy. Thoughts, creativity, lists… many lists. And guilt, y/n would often have to settle down her mind at night if something was bothering her. Even with simple stuff, like if she hadn’t tried an ice cream flavor even when Tim would assure her she wouldn’t like it , she’d have to go the next day to try it. Or whenever a new movie came out and y/n would read the reviews and know she’d hate it, but went and watched it anyway just to be disappointed by it.

So maybe that was what was going on. Tom was the coconut-pistachio cheesecake ice cream y/n so wanted to try, but wouldn’t like in the end. Y/N was dating the terrible reviewed movie right now.

However, the ice cream bumped into Tim, anyway the same day he’d go out for dinner with y/n, holding a peony that Tim had given her that day.

“What are you doing?” Tom frowned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tim said, looking down at the schedule he had to follow, he spoke then through the radio and walked past Tom.

“You really think I don’t know these are yours?” Tom frowned.

“Well, I’m helping you out, man, take the credit, for all I know you already are taking it,” Timmy rolled his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?”

Tim watched him. “I just gave her flowers man.” And really that’s all he’d done. He hadn’t even tried to talk to y/n. He didn’t want to intrude. One flower a day didn’t hurt anyone.

“No, no, no, why are you trying to-”

“I’m not trying anything,” Timmy answered calmly.

Tom clenched his jaw. “You lost your chance.”

“It’s funny you out of everyone say that,” Tim snaked. “Seems like chances are given for free.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why are you angry?” Timmy shrugged. “She is your girlfriend, you don’t have to worry about me--”

Tom didn’t answer.

“Ah, she’s not your girlfriend, yet.”

“Well but she might be.”

“Then why are you worrying?” Tim cackled dryly. “If she is in love with you then she won’t even look at my flowers. And as I said, take the credit man.”

“Exes don’t give out flowers,” Tom frowned.

“Well, I do, I love giving her flowers, and at least I know for a fact she doesn’t cry whenever I give her flowers,” Tim shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”

“You don’t have the right to mention that,” Tom frowned.

“Seems like I already did,” Timmy rolled his eyes. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you, you go be happy with her.”

Tom watched him. “You don’t even know what we’ve gone through, and we are very happy.”

Timmy stared at Tom. He truly didn’t understand why Tom was being so bitchy about this, yes, probably it wasn’t fair play giving her flowers. But honestly, Tom had been worse while y/n and Tim were dating, always big gestures, that of course would be erased by any kind of mean words Tom directed as y/n. Always hurting y/n. Yes, Tom had never been a fan of Tom, because he always managed to turn y/n’s light off, only with a glance and y/n would be on the verge of tears. Tom was a monster to y/n. Why the hell was y/n now sprinting with him? Why the hell did y/n kiss Tom the way she was kissing him?

“I don’t have to know much to understand you’ve broken her so many times,” Tim argued back.

“I’ve changed.”

“Have you really, Tom? And does she know that?” Tim had started to walk away.

Tom stayed quiet for a bit, “She does.”

Tim turned around. “I think you’re scared because even if you know her from your whole life, you don’t actually know her.”

Tom frowned. “I know her perfectly.”

“But for your own conveniences, you know how to make her cry, you know how to break her, but that’s it,” Tim raised his arms, shrugging.

Tom clenched his jaw. “You’re just angry that she’s screaming my name now,” Tom snapped.

Timothée had to look away. “That’s the issue with you, Tom. You don’t know the magic of y/n,” he told him, shaking his head as he stared down at the floor. “Maybe you managed to get her in bed, but you won’t get to have her completely and you know that, because it’s the little moments that count for y/n, and you don’t get that, you always have to put up a show for her.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You dated her for only two years, what makes you think you know her more than I do? I’ve known her my whole life.”

Tim chuckled. “I didn’t buy a Polaroid, for instance, I don’t have to fake around her,” Tim explained. “I made her smile with a single peony, because I know she doesn’t need whatever big flower arrangement I know you’re already planning to give her. I know her.”

Tom scoffed. “I don’t need to give you any explanation, and I don’t even know why I’m bothering to argue with you, y/n doesn’t even love you, if she did she would’ve accepted your proposal,” Tom snapped with venom. “Now please stop sending her flowers, and don’t dare to bring her flowers tonight.”

With that, the bad-reviewed movie had walked away. Tim looked away, he was hurt. But not because he’d said that. But because y/n had told him. It just… Didn’t make any sense.

They’d meet at her hotel’s bar. A less formal thing, and Timmy understood.

He had seen her walk out of the elevator, and… Tom had, too. They seemed to be tense, but Tom kissed her cheek anyway before leaving for the entrance.

Timmy really didn’t like elevators anymore.

Y/N walked over to Tim, she didn’t seem… excited.

“Hi,” he greeted her. He hadn't brought her flowers this time. Not because Tom had asked him to, but because he knew it wasn’t the place for it.

“Hey,” she gulped as she watched him. “Let’s… go for a drink, shall we?”

And it was awkward at first. They’d never been awkward but she had been this time, quiet, and she looked sad. They were sitting on the tallest stools in the bar, where y/n was swinging her legs, trying to get a hold of the film canister she’d pulled out at the beginning of their conversation. She had Toyed with it, long enough for Timmy to wonder which of the many film canisters was it. He’d given her thousands of them, with notes, with films… and one with a ring. The canister seemed more interesting than Tim himself. But she looked beautiful, and Tim only wished and longed to go back in time, and have her smile at him like she used to.

Instead they were barely even looking at each other.

“So, have you been exploring the city?” Tim asked her.

Y/N shrugged and smiled. “Not...really,” she admitted. “We—“she cleared her throat. “I’ve barely had the time, you know? Always filming and then I am tired but—Tomorrow I might,” she told him. “Tom has a free day so—“

“Yeah,” Tim watched her. “Anywhere special you want to go? New York has always been your dream.”

“Dunno yet, Tom probably has something planned, something big,” she smiled to herself. “He only keeps surprising me…”

“So uh, you and Tom huh?” Tim had asked as smoothly as he could’ve.

“I… well,” she shifted on her sit. “I guess.”

“It’s okay, I knew it was coming,” he smiled. “I’m happy-“

“Timmy I’m sorry I—“ she looked at him, finally looked at him.

“No, no, I’m happy, as long as he makes you happy,” Tim lied with the most convincing smile he could pull.

“I’m very sorry Tim,” she sighed.

He reached over for her arm, “Y/N, no, I don’t want you to be, really,” he squeezed her arm and then pulled back his hand.

“Are you okay?” She looked at him.

“I feel like I am, but I mean, you can’t really—I mean, I’m as fine as I can be,” he chuckled to himself.

“Tim,” she gave him a sad smile.

“I’m being honest, y/n, one can only be as cheerful as they can while they see the love of their life taken away,” he had said and he’d felt his heart become smaller as he said it.

Y/N watched him. “You really think I’m the love of your life?”

Tim looked at her, she timidly smiled. “I know it.”

Y/N bit her lip. “How do you know that? Who the love of your life is?”

Timmy watched her. Somehow that question felt like an old conversation, of the ones they used to have. He didn’t know why she’d asked it. But maybe his answer would get her back to her senses.

“Well, you feel it. You know?” Tim chuckled. “It’s that breathtaking moment y/n,” he explained as he looked at her. “I guess it’s the person that makes you feel like you’re watching your favorite movie, the one you know you’d never get tired of,”he looked at her lips and then at her sight, she seemed conflicted but she was listening. “The person you feel calm with, the one you only need a smile from and everything turns better,” he grinned. “It’s walking under the rain and feeling warm. It’s… you.”

She looked at him, and then stared at the film canister again.

“What’ve you got there?” He looked at it.

“Ah, nothing,” she gulped. “It’s—Nothing,” she smiled at him. “But uhm, have you had time to explore New York?”

“A little bit, yeah,” he chuckled. More than he wanted to, if he was honest. “I actually got lost in the subway, you know how distracted I am—“

“You’re kidding,” she smiled again.

“No, no, but—“And he started telling her stories, like he used to do. And she listened, and she laughed and she smiled.

And eventually, she put the film canister back in her purse, making Tim wonder what the hell was in it. But it didn’t matter, because she was finally smiling again, and with every single story and with every single sentence, he felt like he was falling back in love all over again. And hours went by, and they didn’t even notice how time had passed. And it felt like old times. Older...times.

But eventually she kissed his cheek goodbye, because she of course had to go back to Tom. Who had walked back into the hotel. But maybe had imagined it, the whole conversation maybe hadn’t gone as espectacular. And this wasn’t a movie, the girl and the guy probably wouldn’t fall back in love just after a conversation at the bar, and maybe it wasn’t breathtaking. And he saw her walking back up to Tom, and kissed his lips. Not his cheek, his lips.

But Tim did have an oh shit moment, it was different from that moment when y/n had walked into the lecture, 16 minutes late. It was the oh shit moment when Tim realized it, the repetitive script we’ve all learned and adored from movies wouldn’t replicate in Tim’s life. Not for now, at least. Because y/n, for once, had liked the ice cream.

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daydreamsofh · 4 years

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Terrible Love- Part Two

A/N: Ahhhhh hello! Welcome to Terrible Love, part two! I have had so much fun writing this story, and I am so so proud of it, and so happy to share it with you!

A massive thank you to my girl @harryinsweatersandbandanas for just being herself and always encouraging me, and to my sweet friend @dallas-suit-harry for being the best beta reader ever! I’m so lucky to know you, Em! <3

Here we go, again! Feedback and reblogs are always welcome, my ask box is always always open!

Summary: Love, or should I say falling for your best friend has a way of being terrible, and wonderful all at the same time.

Inspired by the song: Terrible Love- Birdy

Word Count: 6k, almost 7k

Part One: Terrible Love

You weren’t proud of what you did. Leading guys on wasn’t one of your hobbies, and you genuinely felt bad for inviting Connor to go to the party with you, knowing there were no hopes of an actual chance of a relationship between the two of you at the end of the night. It wasn’t like you were a villain in a romantic comedy, wheelding your imaginary sword to hurt people on purpose. If anything, you did feel like you were in the middle of a romantic comedy, torn between wanting Harry so badly it made you sick, and all the while being so weary of him and the mountain of feelings you held for him. Although, It was clearly looking like you didn’t really have a choice in being with him, his hands and mind busy with someone else. But still that didn’t stop the aching feeling you had in your chest, and the shaking feeling you had in your hands.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, however you were convinced that absence from the guy you were embarrassingly in love with, made the heart grow bitter and on the verge of an emotional breakdown at any given second. Harry was normally always on your mind, but ever since he got home it was tenfold. You couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, you felt like you would never catch your breath. You would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat thinking about who gave him those marks on his neck, who got to feel his lips against theirs, to feel the stubble of his jaw lightly grazing their skin. The feeling of his hands, no doubt a little bit rough in texture from the nights on end of him strumming his guitar on stage, gripping on to their hips in the most possessive, yet gentle way. The knowledge that the smile on his face and the extra swing in his step was from the new flame budding between the two of them.

You were more uneasy now that he was home again, there was no way to ignore your feelings when he was literally right in front of you. You found yourself unable to sleep, yet again, and without having the comforts to lull you to sleep like when he was gone. There was no duvet to bury under that smelled of him, no bedside book’s that have the lines he fell in love with littering the pages to make your eyes heavy, and no air to breathe that he once had. You were awake at all hours of the night wondering who was on his mind and in his heart, the way he was in yours.

Meanwhile, Harry was absolutely positive he was losing it. He was unable to focus on anything for longer than five minutes before his mind filtered back to you. More specifically, your smell on his sheets and throughout the air of his home, he wondered where you had sat and where you had laid your head to rest, where had you eaten your breakfast and where had you taken his calls? He was romanticizing every little detail about you that was now etched into his home. Even the strands of hair that were stuck to his pillow, and the smell of your perfume practically stamped into every one of his jumpers, every little thing. He was even dreaming about you, and he doesn’t need an expert to tell him that that is a clear sign that that was a sign. He loved you, he was sure of it. But among other things, he was also painfully sure that it seemed you had met someone else. When you were so nonchalant about going on a date and then coming back to his house afterwards like it was no big deal, he had never been so cross with you, but mainly with himself.

How is it that he never said anything? How is it that he’s a man who writes love songs for a living and always urges people to tell people how they feel, no matter how embarrassing and terrifying that may be? How is he someone who says “Give Love, Choose Love” so naturally, so afraid to just bloody tell you how he feels?! How is he someone who fearlessly spews romantic advice to those who ask for it, and he can’t tell you how he feels? How is he a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, (literally and figuratively) and he can’t tell you how he really feels about you? He’s known he’s loved you for forever, but now he’s more than sure that he’s in love with you, and that notion, the one that he’s in love with his best friend is the most mind blowing/overwhelming revelation that he thinks he’s ever had. Hang performing in front of thousands of people, this is the biggest rush he’s ever felt. What is he supposed to do now?! You have a new guy in your life and he’s not the type of guy to run in the middle of that and cause a scene, and plus, who knows if you even feel the same way? He’s gone for months at a time, and while his personal life is more private now than ever before, being in his life in that way does require being a bit in the spotlight, and he’s not going to ask you to sign up for that.

But Christ, what if you are? What if you did want to sign up for that? Being his girlfriend, being in his life in a way you never have been before? BUT, you have a bloody boyf-friend-thing. Christ. How the hell did you even have time to meet someone? He had spoken to you nearly every day he had been gone, and he never even got the slightest inkling that there was anyone remotely new in your life. Let alone a dodgy sounding guy like him?! Christ how long had he really been gone? You had been so cheerful with him on the phone, but you always are. Telling him everything was good and that he doesn’t even need to come back because you had made yourself right at home. He had laughed at that one, the kind of breathy laugh that turns into the most dreamy sigh because the thought of you calling his house, home, is something straight out of one of his dreams. And yours too, but that's besides the point.

He felt so stuck in the weeds and he just wanted to grab your shoulders and shake you and kiss you until you were breathless. But on the other hand, you had only just started dating this new guy, so maybe he could still say something. He had to, or he at least had to try.

Every time Harry finished a tour, or the leg of a tour, Jeff was insistent on throwing him a welcome home party. As if he hadn’t just been showered with love from stadiums of people for months on end. You had attended every single one, because if there’s anyone who is best in the category of showering Harry with love, you take the cake. You stood alongside Anne and Gemma for a majority of the last one, in between gazing at him with so much love in your eyes you couldn’t believe you weren't actively crying the entire time. When he cozied up beside you after all of the toasts in his honor, you could feel the heat radiating from him, and then he slipped his hand to rest over your leg under the table. You couldn’t feel your hands when he reached over to give yours a squeeze, and when Gemma and Anne weren’t looking you leaned over and planted a kiss on his shoulder before pausing to rest your head there and gaze up at him. He gave you a lopsided smile, (one of your favorite ones of his) and he dipped down to kiss your forehead.

You had chalked up his touchy behavior to him being slightly buzzed, but for the next week every time you looked down at your hands you stopped breathing for a few seconds.

You were dreading this one though, positively absolutely dreading it. You were mad at Harry, and sad and jealous of whoever he was now mysteriously dating while on the road, but you couldn't not go. You couldn’t not go and tell him how proud of him you were, and it didn’t matter how frustrated you were at the situation, or really at the universe for misaligning the timing of you two, again. You hated to throw the i’m in love with my best friend and he has no idea and has some secret new girlfriend and you just wanted to cry the entire time card, but it was very tempting. You knew that if you didn’t go, that would raise more suspicion and would require further explanation, so you were forcing yourself to go.

There was only a two day stretch from the time Harry got home to the night of the party. You had been nauseous most of the day, incredibly anxious about the fact that you were about to be in the same space as him for an unimaginable amount of time, with a guy who you barely knew and definitely shouldn't have invited to come with you. While you were positive that Harry didn’t feel the same way, you were also positive that you didn’t want to be with anyone else, either. Who knows, maybe you would wind up being an 80 year old woman, single and alone with an australian shepherd mysteriously named Harry. Anything was possible at this point.

You had been more than useless at work all week, and the closer the time came for the party, the more you were thinking of reasons to get you out of going. You could say you caught a cold from the office? Or that you ate some bad chinese food and had a stomach ache? Or… you could just run. Run and never look back, hide out somewhere in Italy and start making hand spun soaps out of your living room? Yeah, you liked that option best.

When you had originally texted Connor and asked him if he wanted to tag along, you weren’t really thinking straight. You had tears running down your face and your heart was rolled into a ball in the pit of your stomach. Nothing felt right and you just wanted to turn the car around and fall into Harry. You had just seen the marks on his skin in real time with your own eyes and everytime you shut yours they were lit up with big bold letters beside them. He’s met someone else, get over it. You weren’t looking for an eye for an eye with Harry, but you also didn’t want to show up by yourself and seem anymore sad and alone, however stupid and counterproductive that sounds.

Connor had texted you back almost immediately, clearly looking to hear from you. He said he would love to join you, babe! Which could not have sounded more unnatural coming out of his mouth, or across the screen. Same difference. You guessed you really had no choice than to go, now.

When the day of the party rolled around, you had done everything in your power to stay at work for as long as you possibly could. Save from actually rearranging your desk furniture for the upteenth time, you dredged home to change before Connor picked you up. He had insisted on driving you, (clearly trying to establish his good guy facade) and you would have rather had him hit you with his car than go to the party. A bit dramatic on your end but you really, desperately, whole heartedly, DID NOT want to go. He could just knick you a little and then you would really have a reason not to go. Wait, were you actually thinking of asking a guy you barely knew to hit you…. With his….. Moving car?! Get a grip! You can do this. It’s not like you actually had to have a conversation with Harry, you just had to show up and make your presence somewhat known. You didn’t have to give a toast in his honor or read a poem about your deepest strongest feelings for him. You could do this. It was just one night. One night of acting like you weren’t in love with him, one night of acting like your heart hadn;t been ripped out of your chest, once night of hiding the love that you felt so deeply for him. One more night of you trying to convince yourself that you never needed to know what it was like to feel him brush your hair back as he kissed you, that you never needed to know what it was like for him to glance at you from across the room and wrap you up in his arms, just because he could, that you never needed to know what it sounded like to hear him moan your name out in the middle of the night.

One more night of you trying to convince yourself that he was so much a part of your heart that it was practically in the shape of an H. You could do this. You could learn how to love him from a distance. You at least had to try.

Connor had volunteered to come by your house and pick you up, which you had wanted to say no to, but you thought it was the least you could do if you were dragging him along to this party with you. You could tell that as soon as you asked him to come with you, and who the party was for, he was more than game to go. Name dropping was absolutely not something you ever did, especially Harry’s name, but when he asked you didn’t see any reason to lie.

The drive to the party had been a quiet one, only glancing at him when you felt like it was absolutely necessary when he asked you a question. You gave him short answers, instead focusing on the car getting closer and closer to Harry’s house. When the car came to a gradual stop and Harry's house was in view, you felt your stomach drop and your hands start to shake. You very sullenly opened the door and got out, wanting nothing more than to bolt down the street on foot.

Connor walked from the other side of the car to yours, and you kept your hands to yourself, crossing your arms before falling in line beside him and walking up Harry’s driveway. You could hear loud laughter booming as you got closer to the front door, and you could only guess that Harry was attributing to some of the sound. You let out a small whimper before almost bolting back to the car. The front door to his house was wide open, adding to the relaxed, and easy going mood of the night. You strolled in with Connor in tow, him closely following behind you. When you glanced back at him he was wide eyed, taking in his surroundings while simultaneously taking a count of every one that was there, clearly not used to being around famous people. The house had a few people grazing in and out, with the majority of the people outside in Harry’s backyard. Lights were strung in the trees and you could hear the faint sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing somewhere in the distance.

You felt like a zombie walking into the party, your heart was in your throat and you were afraid to dart your eyes around to see who else was in the room. Too afraid that Harry would be in your immediate direction and you would be forced to look at him and talk to him and hear his voice. Just the image of him in your head made your heart physically ache in your chest and speed ip all at the same time. You didn’t want to see him, but at the same time you wanted to see him as painful as it would be. You just wanted to lay your eyes on him, maybe from a distance, hiding underneath a table where no one could see you weeping, or you know, something like that.

You were busy talking to a mutual friend of yours and Harry’s when you swore you felt the wind in the air change. As dramatic as it sounds, you suddenly felt warmer, safer, and you could feel a pair of very familiar eyes on you. You shifted your gaze from your friend, and when you turned around you made direct eye contact with Harry. Your pulse was rising and you swore you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. You could feel your eyes beginning to brim with tears before you looked away to (as discreetly as you could) wipe your eyes. You felt stuck in your stance but you couldn't ignore the other feeling pulling at you, almost pushing you over to him.

You were trying to listen to what your friend was saying, something about a new cat of hers, but you couldn't hear a word over your whirling thoughts and your head was starting to become dizzy from your eyes darting around the room trying to find Harry again. You were hot and bothered (and not in a good way) at the fact that he was in the same crowded room as you were now, and you felt like a sitting duck, just waiting.

The selfish part of you wanted so badly to feel his arms wrap around your waist and his voice in your ear as opposed to only in your wildest daydreams. He was everywhere but physically with you, and when you really thought about it, that’s how it always seemed. Always on your mind and in your heart but never in your reach. Always a fleeting, overwhelming feeling that only seemed to grow over time. It grew in every touch you shared with him, in every timid and sometimes annoyed glance, every time you made him laugh and every time you made him grin and shake his head in disbelief at you. They grew each time you innocently fell asleep on the couch together after a night of movies, it grew each time he called you while he was away and you could hear the smile in his voice as he told you about each crowd, and each show and which joke he had come up with on stage that was way less funny than it actually sounded. It grew everyday just because he was Harry, just because he was him, and because you were you. You had no say in the matter anymore.

A hand on the small of your back broke your train of thoughts, you jumped and nervously clutched the pendant hanging from your neck before you whipped your head around to see who it was. Much to your disappointment you were met with Connor’s eyes instead of bright green ones and you were unable to hide the pout that your face immediately fell into, and then the nervous uncomfortable smile that you shot at Connor.

“There you are, lost you in the crowd for a bit! Good to see you again,” he said to you with an awkward smile as he threw an even more awkward arm around your shoulder.

His arm felt like a dead weight draped around you and you felt nauseous at the mere sight of the two of you. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up and it certainly wasn’t at the feelings you had toward Connor, rather at the sight of your friend's eyes on you two, together. If this was the look they were sporting, you could only imagine what Harry’s would look like.

You smiled while Connor introduced himself to your friend while at the same time gently but firmly removing his arm from your shoulder. You let it fall to his side before running your hand up and down your arm, suddenly cold from the strange contact and the cool air rustling through you from outside. At the same time as the chill went through you, you heard a familiar voice directly behind you and your knees buckled. You could feel the heat radiating off of Harry behind you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and fall into his familiar warmth and smell. Oh god you could feel your throat thickening and eyes tearing, this was not the time to cry with he who shall not be named literally directly behind you, close enough to reach out and touch. Get it together!

You heard the conversation behind you die down and before you knew it you felt the familiar brush of a shoulder against yours and your eyes clamped shut before opening again. You felt the air being stolen from your lungs while his presence practically enveloped yours and you felt yourself starting to sway towards him. You felt your breath hitch before your eyes even met his and when they finally did you practically melted into a puddle at his feet.

“Uh oh-- look who it is! Hi love,” Harry warmly spoke to you before his eyes took in your appearance, looking you up and down.

You opened your mouth to speak and when just a squeak came out you cleared your throat before muttering a very profound, dramatically quiet, “Hi, H” Brilliant. Just brilliant!

“Hi love,” he said through a chuckle.

It was like it was just the two of you in the room, his gaze was warm on yours and his eyes were glossy as he watched you and it wasn’t until Connor broke up the moment with a nudge of his elbow annoyingly against yours that you looked away.

You let out a nervous, annoying high pitched laugh before you coughed and turned towards Connor.

“Um, Harry this is, this is Connor, Connor this is Harry,” you gestured in between the both of them and nervously tucked your hair behind your ear before you started fiddling with your pendant again.

Harry’s gazed dropped to the floor before he solemnly picked his head up and reached his hand out to shake Connor’s hand, and you had never wanted to go back in time so badly, back in time to when Connor picked you up, instead of just asking him to hit you with his stupid car just to get you out of this horribly awkward and uncomfortable moment.

Harry cleared his throat before firmly shaking Connor’s hand (almost a little too firmly if the buckle in Connor’s knees told you anything) and introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you, thanks for,” Harry glanced in between the both of you before continuing, “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

Connor cleared his throat before you could see him trying to make himself taller by puffing his chest out and muttering a less than confident, “So good to meet you, mate! I’m a huge fan of all of your….. Stuff!”

You dropped your gaze back to the floor and your cheeks were positively on fire and when you looked back at Harry he had a dazed, confused and solemn look on his face that you couldn’t quite read.

Harry spoke up before you could think to say literally anything and he stratched his hand up and down the back of his neck, (a nervous habit you picked up on years ago) before he sighed and looked back, only at you this time.

“Well, I’m glad you’re both- you’re both here. Drinks are around back and I’ll be around if you need anything,” he gave you a weak smile and you just shook your head before looking down at your feet again.

It was the most awkward, lukewarm conversation (if you can even call it that) and you felt sick to your stomach- had you two reached that point in your friendship? In your whatever-you-call-this-ship? If you took being with Harry in a romantic sort of way off the table completely, if you learned to love him from a distance, is this what it would be like and feel like?

The awkward silence and not knowing what to say, the knowing glances and not-knowing glances, and the glances where you know what one of you wants to say but you just... can’t? The rubbish timing and people in between you, the aching, empty feeling in the pit of your stomach and your heart. Not being in his life remotely as much as you were, now? You weren’t sure you could do that. No, you were positive you couldn’t do that.

The majority of the night consisted of stolen, painful glances and half lipped smiles and half full glasses. You had listened to the toasts in Harry’s honor and the speeches recounting details of tour life and rounds of applause. After things had died down a bit and you had lost Connor in the crowd of people (thankfully and more than willingly), you found yourself inside the house, wandering the halls and eventually landing in his closet.

It was a strange thing, but his wardrobe always brought a sense of comfort to you. It was big enough to live in and packed to the brim with clothes enough to make you feel oddly safe. Surrounded by the pieces that made Harry who he was and that had memories of the two of you intertwined through the fabric. And out of the corner of your eye you spotted those atrocious white loafers of his, on the bottom shelf of his shoe shelf and you couldn’t help but let out a loud, slightly inebriated, genuine giggle.

“Thought I heard someone pilfering through my things like a thief in the night, should have known it was you,”

You whipped your head around and your eyes raised and settled in surprise, that warm, almost burning feeling in your chest back again, like it was every time you caught him looking at you.

“I actually just came in here to confiscate these god awful loafers from your closet, never got around to doing that when I was here,” you smiled through your nerves and Harry was gazing at you so warmly you could feel the effects of it all throughout your body.

“You know they're actually not that bad, paired with the right pair of trousers they don’t look so grandpa-y,” he chuckled through his sentence and you mirrored a similar, giddy one.

“Ah of course of course, all depends on how you style it, Lambert teach you that trick, huh, H?”

You noticed a blush creeping down his neck and you could feel the butterflies beginning to erupt in the pit of your stomach.

“He did actually, practically his prodigy at this point, y’know?”

“Oh yeah I bet you are- I’m sure you’re a great student,”

He let out a loud laugh and his eyes were crinkling at your joke and he shook his head before he looked at you again.

He moved closer to you and you felt yourself drift closer to him in response.He was close enough to you now for you to feel the heat radiating off of him, and your fingers itched to reach out and touch him.

He raised his hand up to brush your hair out of your face and behind your ear, and your breath hitched before he brought his gaze up to yours.

Your hand instinctively reached to squeeze his forearm before you moved it across his body to rest on his chest. His hand moved from your hair to grab your hand and he held it firmly, proudly against his chest. You were surprised to feel his heart beating rapidly against the back of your hand, and it took everything in you not to lean forward and brush your lips against his.

His voice was raspy and warm when he opened his mouth, “I realy, really missed you. I’m s’happy you’re here tonight. Always feel so much better when I can see you from across the room,”

You could feel the tears pooling in your eyes and you had to divert your gaze to the row of shoes behind him in order for the tears not to pool down your cheeks. You were leaning into his chest and he was holding a firm, but tentative grip on the side of your face with his other hand.

You could feel his calloused fingers resting against your cheek and it grounded you in the moment and at the same time made your heart race faster.

How could he say things, incredible incredible things like this to you, and have marks from someone else on his neck, at the same time?

That thought was enough to bring you back to earth and you cleared your throat before briefly shifting your stance in his arms.

You retreated the tiniest bit and his hands and eyes were following you, and with whatever strength you had left you squeaked out, “I’m really happy I’m here too, H. I can’t even tell you how good it feels to be in the same room as you again,” your eyes fluttered and shut as you managed to get that out and you felt him rest his forehead against yours.

A knock on the door broke you two out of the moment, you could hear the faint voice of Connor (otherwise known as the ultimate moment ruiner) and an ask if you were ready to leave.

You and Harry were still standing there, resting against each other and his eyes were boring into yours and you just wanted the floor to swallow you both whole. Take the both of you somewhere far, far away where no one else can be found.

You sighed before taking another step backwards out of his grip and muttered a very shaky, nervous, “well I, I guess I should go, he’s kind of my ride,”

Harry cleared his throat before he released his grip on you and you saw his smile turn into a frown before he said, “oh yeah- of course love. I’ll, I guess I’ll see you soon? Thank you f’comin,”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead and you let out the tiniest, hopefully inaudible whimper and you took his hands in yours and gave them a good squeeze before turning away from him.

Heart in your throat and partially in the pit of your stomach you made your way out of his closet and down the hall, where Connor was waiting for you with a giddy grin. He was chit chatting with one of the sound engineers that works on tour with Harry, assuming that was where his good mood was coming from. You watched them say goodbye and when you turned to open the door to leave you couldn’t help but let out a confused, albeit relieved laugh.

You had brought Connor here feeling terrible of giving him the impression you were leading him on, and here he was meeting someone totally new. You were halfway down the driveway when you saw him turn around and wave goodbye to her yet again before you stopped yourself completely.

Wait a minute- wait a minute- wait a minute-wait a minute! If an absolute emobossil of a guy like Connor could meet someone at a house party where he knew literally no one, who's to say you were wrong about how you thought that Harry felt about you? There weren't exactly any rules to love, not any that made sense anyway. Who’s to say that Harry doesn’t feel the exact same way about you, as you do him?

Who’s to say that he’s not as ridiculously, overwhelmingly, annoyingly, dramatically as in love with you, as you are him? You weren’t sure, but you had to find out.

Connor stopped once he realized you weren’t following him anymore, and he turned his head to look at you before walking backwards to catch up to you.

“Did you forget something inside?” he asked you with a quirk to his brow.

You laughed before answering him, “you know what? I actually did. I’ll go back in and get it and just get a car from here, don’t worry about me!”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting.” he said to you before looking behind you to peer at his new friend again.

“I’m positive, plus it looks like someone else is waiting for you, go on,” you smiled before glancing behind you and waving.

“Are you sure?” he asked without even looking at you and you just shook your head.

“I’m more than sure, go on,” you smiled at him again and gave his shoulder a friendly, reassuring squeeze.

And with that you sprinted back into the house and left Connor on the sidewalk to catch up with his new friend.

When you got back into the house there was no one inside, just the aftermath of a usual houseparty- empty bottles of alcohol everywhere and balloons and streamers littering the floor of Harry’s foyer.

You didn’t see him in the kitchen or the living room, so you ran back down the hallway to the wardrobe you left him in. You burst through the door without knocking and sure enough, there he was sat on the ground picking at the carpet on the floor of his closet.

His eyes shot up at you and he jumped to his feet.

“What are y-”

He was cut off by you lunging at him and you gripped the collar of his shirt before tugging him down to where he was eye level with you.

“Love, what are y’doing,” he asked you while rested his forehead against yours, panting at your close proximity.

“Shh, please I need to say this,” you shakily started.

“Harry, I-- oh god I can’t believe i’m saying this, I-,”

“Wait wait, no I need t’say somethin’ first,” he countered when you failed to get the words out.

You took a shaky breath in and you could feel the warmth of his body pulling you in further towards him.

“I love you, I love you, I- m’so in love with you. Please tell m’you don’t love him, please tell me i’m not too late, that we’re not too late,”

You felt your face drop in shock and as dramatic as it was you thought you were going to pass out face first on the very plush carpet of his closet.

“You-you what?!” you practically shouted at him. Your fingertips were burning as you gripped his shirt tighter and you felt like your heart was going to physically beat out of your chest with how loud it was pounding in your ears and against your ribcage.

“I love you, I mean it, I truly, truly do. M’going out of my mind. Please y’can’t leave with him, I can’t be without you any longer,”

“Harry , I-” you started, only to be cut off again by his stammering.

“M’sorry it took me so long t’say but god I mean it, I love you. I’ve been going out of my mind since I got home, I see you everywhere here. You’re in every room I go into, and every corner that I look. I’m better when you’re here, I’m more-- I’m just better. Please, I just, I love you, you have t’believe me,”

When you didn’t say anything back in response Harry took that as his cue to back away but instead you gripped on to him even tighter.

It was suddenly a lot hotter in his room and you were full on shoulders raised and fingers shaking panting, and there were streams of tears rolling down your face.

“You what?!” you shouted at him in disbelief, again.

He laughed before shaking his head at you, “Do you need me to repeat all of that to you again?”

Your only response was to pull him towards you the rest of the way and to slot his lips against yours. The kiss started languilly and Harry was cradling your face in his hands to keep the both of you steady. His lips were so soft and gentle against yours, and you could feel the faint tugging of the remnants of facial hair against your skin and you melted into him.

Your lungs were starting to burn and when you physically couldn’t keep kissing him you broke away from his lips and rested your head against his chest.

You were both panting and when he muttered your name to get you to look at him, you couldn’t help but look up at him with watery eyes.

While this was a mind blowing revelation and you were 50% sure you were dreaming, you got sight of the stupid marks against his neck and you had to finally ask where the hell those came from.

You pulled him to you again, and snaked your arms around the wide expanse of his shoulders. You ran your (albeit shaky) fingers down his neck until you brought your eyes to meet his again.

“Who, who gave you these?” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry looked down at your hands, “Gave me what?”

“What do you mean, ‘gave you what’?! Who gave you these marks?”

“What marks? Love these are from my stupid guitar strap,”

His guitar strap?! His stupid stupid fucking guitar strap?! That was why you had been breaking into sobbing fits for the past two weeks?!

“Are you- are you serious?! That’s why i’ve been crying at the drop of the hat every second since our call a few weeks ago?!” you shook your head and laughed, “I thought someone, I thought you had met someone, and you know…..”

“Absolutely not love. Don’t really have the time for that when i’m on the road, not like i’ve really been interested in that lately to begin with,” he gestured to you and you sputtered out a laugh.

“Okay, well if we’re admitting stuff I guess I should tell you, I’m not with him, Connor. We’ve never been together. I barely know him. I just drugged him here tonight so I wouldn’t be here alone…”

Harry dropped his head in relief before pushing his hair back from his forehead, “Oh thank god,” he muttered from behind his hands.

“Does that mean that you…..” he started.

“I love you, I love you, I absolutely love you, H. You’re my favorite person in the world, I love you, I always have. I’ve always been here,”

Harry lunged forward and slotted his lips against yours again, that was an answer all in itself.

When you broke apart finally Harry spoke up before resting his forehead against yours.

“From here on out, let’s just be honest with each other, yeah? Would have saved a lot of trouble if we’d just said how we felt from the start,”

You simply nodded before pulling him into you and nuzzling your face in his neck.

You stood there for a few moments, just basking in this new feeling of love and sureness that you had between the two of you. Your lips started to quirk and you raised your head from his neck.

“If we’re being completely honest here H, you have got to get rid of those terrible, terrible shoes,” you said it with a serious face before you burst into laughter.

He laughed a bug, genuine laugh before resting his hands on your hips.

“I guess that can be arranged, love,” he rolled his eyes playfully and you batted at his chest.

What a terribly fun love this was going to be.

#waaaah i hope you all enjoy!!!!!#terrible love #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry fluff #oh the yearning #brb going to cry forever now

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i-cant-type-help · 4 years

Text

Last Resort

(Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Summary: When Y/N is left without a date to the Yule Ball, she turns to Draco to help with her problem. Unbeknownst to her, Draco has been waiting for this moment all along.

Warnings:angst, FLUFF and language

Word Count:3250

A/N: one word: finally.

You clenched your fists tightly around the knife and fork, bending the metal slightly. Pansy was hammering your head with flaunts about how Draco had asked her to the Yule Ball yesterday and how he had promised to wear a yellow tie tonight, just to match her yellow dress.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Blaise asked, throwing you a cautious look as he watched your face grow redder by the second, “You look like you’re about to break that fork”. He slowly took the knife and fork out of your hands, careful not to hurt you. You ignored him completely and instead tightened your fists, digging your nails into your hands.

“Okay, well now you look like you’re going to break your hand” He chuckled lowly. You released your hands and rolled your eyes, before throwing him a fake smile.

“Someone’s on their period” Blaise muttered.

“Wow, that’s so fucking funny.” You snapped, throwing your head onto the table and groaning. You felt fingers roughly brush through your hair, tugging at it.

“She’s just upset that no one has asked her to the Yule Ball” Pansy gibed, causing you to groan louder.

“You know, Pansy, your fingers aren’t very soft and you stroking my hair is not very soothing” You snarked, sitting back up.

“No need to snap at me just because you’re gonna be alone tonight and I’m not” she bragged, “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you”.

“And, besides, Draco says I’ve got a very soothing touch” Pansy jested, curiously stroking her own fingers. You snorted sarcastically and turned your head in the opposite direction.

“Wait, you’re actually upset?” she giggled, causing everyone else to giggle around her. Except Blaise, who shot you a sympathetic look.

“Y/N” Pansy said softly, “You didn’t actually think anyone was going to ask you, did you? I mean come on, Y/N, you’re a nice girl but you’re hardly girlfriend material. People just don’t see you in that way, you’re just not an attractive person. It’s not really your fault or anything”

You shot up immediately and quickly made your way to the exit of the Great Hall, trying your best to keep your composure and hold your head high. You didn’t want Pansy to see how much she had upset you, you could still hear her faint giggles as you left the Hall.

Once you were outside you let the tears fall down your face as you let out little strangled sobs. You began to pick up your pace down the halls, making your way to your room. You just wanted to see your best friend, and you needed to see him now.

He had mentioned how he was going to be late to breakfast today, and so you hoped that if you were quick enough you would be able to catch up with him now before he left. Your eyes met the entrance of the common room at the end of the dungeons, so you picked up your pace even more, knowing you were close to being able to let your emotions out without having to deal with the judgement of others.

Your heart seemed to clench with anticipation with each step you took, until you finally reached the common room and slipped inside. There you saw Draco, fixing his collar in one of the mirrors, and the pressure in your chest released. You let out a strangled sort of sob and instantly ran up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying yourself in his chest.

“Y/N?” Draco said softly, his hands in the air in a shocked stance. He began to process that your shoulders were slightly shaking against his chest and cautiously placed his arms around your head, pressing you tighter into his chest. He began to trace his fingers along your neck, and whispered small shushes into your ear, hoping to calm you down.

Draco had known you for years now, and you had come to him crying a few times before. Draco had memorised exactly how you liked to be held and the best ways to help you feel at ease. It was important to him that he got those moments right, seeing you upset always made him feel an uncomfortable pinch in his heart and Draco hated that. Of course Draco would never tell his mates something like that, heck they already teased him for actually hugging her, Draco dreaded to think about what they would say if they knew he actually memorised the way to keep you calm.

You had been silent for a few moments now and your cries began to die down, so he finally spoke again, “Y/N, is everything okay?”. You looked up at him with hazy eyes and unhooked your arms from his neck, instead deciding to grip onto his shirt.

“Draco, take me to the yule ball” You pleaded, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“What-”

“Please, Draco!” You cried out, gripping his shirt harder as you threw you head onto his chest and began to sob again.

“Y/N, please calm down” Draco whispered. He softly gripped onto your elbows and began to lead you to a near couch. As soon as you sat, you dropped your head down again and covered your face with your hands. Draco noticed this and took your hands away from your face, instead replacing them with his own as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” Draco questioned in a reassuring tone, continuing to stroke your cheekbones.

“No one asked me to the Yule Ball” You muttered, still not looking Draco in the eye, “I’m a fucking troll”. You noticed Draco’s hands had froze. You finally looked to see his eyes wide in shock and there was an unfamiliar glint in them which made you slightly uneasy.

Draco hadn’t even noticed that you were looking at him, instead he was thinking back to the day the Yule Ball was announced.

“None of you are asking Y/N to the ball, got it” Draco commanded to a group of slytherin boys, only to be met by scoffs.

“Why? Finally getting the balls to ask her out yourself?” Blaise asked smugly. Draco hesitated for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth quickly.

“No” He finally said.

“That’s ridiculous” A fifth year spat, “If you’re not having her, then why can’t we have her?”

“Because I don’t want your greasy hands touching her” Draco sneered, causing the other boy to pounce slightly before being held back by one of his friends.

“He has a point, Draco” Theo stated, barley looking up from his book.

“I can’t ask her out in case she says no” Draco argued back, becoming more frustrated by the second.

“Scared someone will actually say no to the slytherin prince?” The fifth year bickered again.

Draco chose to ignore this, instead saying “But I don’t want anyone else taking her, so don’t even think about it. Any of you.”. Draco felt himself tense up at the thought of someone else touching you, holding you the way he wanted to.

“And tell all your friends the same thing” Draco firmly added, ending the debate there.

Draco gulped and focused himself onto the present once again, watching your eyes as they scanned his face.

“You’re not a troll, Y/N. Don’t ever say that” Draco said plainly, a tightness behind his voice.

“So you’ll go with me then?” You beamed, your voice significantly becoming higher with hope.

“Well I- I already asked Pansy” Draco stuttered, moving his eyes to the floor.

“Of course, Pansy” You breathed harshly with a bitter tone. You moved away from him as you said it, taking his hands off your face and distancing yourself.

“Did something happen with Pansy?” Draco said delicately, scanning your face for tells.

You took in a sharp breath and bit your lip, considering whether or not to tell Draco what had happened. You turned yourself to face him and he flashed you a small, unsure smile. That was enough reassurance for you and you soon told him exactly what had happened, feeling the words fall out of your mouth like word vomit.

You noticed how his face slowly twisted with each word you spoke and his eyes flickered with anger every few moments. When you looked down to avoid his intense gaze, you saw his hands were tightly gripping his knees, so much so that his knuckles were turning pale. You hadn’t even had the chance to tell him how you fled the room before he interrupted you.

“I’ll go with you” he said firmly, taking your hand in his and lacing his fingers through yours.

“Wh- Really?” You whispered,meeting Draco’s eyes once again.��

“Of course, Y/N” Draco soothed, stroking the side of your hand with his thumb.

“What about Pansy?” You questioned.

“Forget about Pansy” He said, throwing you a lopsided and cocky grin.

“Oh, Draco!” You cried out gleefully and wrapped your arms around him once again, resting your head into the crook of his neck. Draco lightly ran his fingertips down your spine and breathed in the scent of your hair, basking in the moment of you holding him close to you.

“Only if you say ‘thank you, Draco’” Draco whispered teasingly into your ear after a few moments, causing you to let out out a small giggle.

“Thank you, Draco” You laughed.

“This is very serious, Y/N. Now say ‘Draco is the best-est friend ever and insanely hot’” Draco commanded mockingly, causing you to let out an even louder laugh.

“Draco is the best-est friend ever” You repeated in a baby voice, pressing your face further into his neck.

“AND insanely hot” Draco insisted.

“And insanely hot” You replied, looking up at him finally and throwing him an eager smile. He smirked at you slightly and pressed a light kiss to the top of your head.

Later

You finished dotting powder across your face, adding the final touches to your look. You swirled slightly in the mirror, marvelling at you ruby red ballgown and the way it moved. Grinning to yourself, you ran your fingers down your sides in admiration of how it hugged your figure.You actually felt quite pretty in your dress, despite the earlier events making your confidence falter significantly.

“What are you smiling at?” Pansy asked bitterly, her eyes scanning you up and down with jealous intent. When you didn’t entertain her with an answer she turned herself towards Daphne and continued to sob into her shoulder. Daphne threw you a sympathetic look and mouthed a quick sorry before turning her attention completely to Pansy, running her hands down her back in a comforting manner.

You slipped out of the room quickly, avoiding confrontation. You made your way to the common room, making sure you didn’t stumble or trip in your heels which you were unused to wearing.

You noticed Draco before he saw you,his head turned away from you in conversation with Theodore Nott. Theo saw you almost immediately, sending you a big grin before tapping Draco’s shoulder and pointing towards you. Draco turned to you and the look of confusion on his face instantly dissolved into a look of shock, his lips slightly parted at the sight of you in your dress, sending him a shy smile.

“Close your mouth, Draco” Theo muttered humorously to Draco as he made his way to you and lightly grabbed your forearms.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N” Theo complimented whilst pulling you into a hug, “Go easy on Draco tonight, he’s very socially inept with pretty girls, as you well know”

“Theo!” You giggled, lightly smacking him on the back. You stayed like this for a few moments before Draco coughed behind you, causing you to pull away.

“I would like to spend some time with my date now, Theo” Draco said in a false harsh tone, before softening his voice when directing it towards you, “If that’s okay with her, of course”. You rolled your eyes teasingly and looped your arm around his before lowering your head onto his shoulder.

“Of course, Draco” Theo smirked,walking away from the both of you but not before adding,“use protection,kiddos!”. You felt heat drastically rise to your cheeks as you burrowed yourself into Draco’s shoulder in embarrassment. Draco tensed up beside you in response before laughing lightly.

“You look beautiful, Y/N” Draco breathed, pressing a kiss onto your head causing your cheeks to heat up even more.

“Thanks, Draco” You said, lifting your head to him, “You look quite handsome yourself”. You weren’t lying when you said it either, you really thought Draco looked striking in his dress robes(which thankfully weren’t yellow). But in all honesty, you thought Draco looked attractive all the time so tonight wasn’t any different.

Draco scanned your face for a few more moments, taking in the way your cheeks creased slightly whilst you smiled and how your eyes glistened in the lighting.

After a few beats, he spoke, “Come with me”. He gripped your arm tighter and began to walk out of the common room. You nodded and buried your head into his shoulder once again, following his footsteps in a comfortable silence.

Draco didn’t speak again until you were both outside in the courtyard, standing next to each other and watching the sun set. You focused on the different colours the sky made, watching them with admiration. But all Draco could focus on was you, and the way you looked so picturesque with the sun falling behind you. Draco finally broke the silence when he saw you shiver slightly.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he trailed his fingertips down your arm which caused you to shiver more.

“A little” You replied quietly. Draco responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in, so your bodies were pressed tightly together and sharing heat.

“Is this okay?” He whispered against your neck, and you quickly nodded back, very aware of how close he was to you right now. You stayed like this for a few more moments whilst Draco slowly rested his chin onto your head.

After a little while you grew more comfortable with the position and nuzzled your head further back into his chest. Draco felt your movement and smirked to himself, a confidence growing in him.

“You know, Y/N” Draco breathed, “I would of gone with you even if this wasn’t to prove Pansy wrong”. You froze from beneath him and unravelled yourself away from him in shock, turning to face him. When you saw that his face dropped slightly, you grabbed his hands in an attempt to show you weren’t angry or disgusted.

“What do you mean?” You asked hastily. Draco’s breath hitched a few times with nerves, considering whether or not to tell you the truth. When you began to stroke his thumbs slightly, he spoke.

“I- Well I was waiting for you to ask me. But when you didn’t I asked Pansy. And I kinda-” Draco explained, nervously. He pulled away from you at the last moment to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck.

“Yes?” You questioned.

“I kinda told all the boys not to ask you to the dance because I wanted to take you myself” He grunted, clearly ashamed. Draco had excepted you to shout, or just leave. But instead you started to laugh to yourself before turning to him and wrapping your arms around him in a hug, laughing into his ear.

“Draco, you absolute dunce. I was waiting for you to ask me!” You giggled, pulling away from him slightly to gaze up at his face and watch as he started to laugh himself. To outsiders you probably looked crazy, but in that moment you didn’t much care.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, Y/N” Draco professed, smiling down at you.

“Me too” You breathed back, returning the smile. You noticed Draco’s eyes began to flutter slightly and he slowly started to lean in. You quickly tutted and gripped Draco’s face, squishing it slightly as you held him back. Draco’s eyes fluttered open straight away and he pursed his already pouted lips.

“Nu-uh-uh” You taunted, “You have to be reminded that I’m not your possession, Draco”. You squished his face one more time before realising it, allowing him to speak.

“No, no. Of course you’re not. That was wrong of me, Y/N. I’m so-” You interrupted him by pressing a finger to his lips.

“It’s fine, Draco” You cooed, bringing your hands around him once again and tracing lines on the back of his neck, “I know your intentions were good”.

Before Draco could say another word, you pressed a small and haste kiss onto his lips. Draco’s mouth instantly formed into a smirk as he carried on where you had left, pressing his lips to yours and wrapping his arms firmly around your waist. You had never done this before, but kissing Draco felt natural, like your lips were perfectly moulded to fit the other. Your stomach rolled with excitement when Draco twisted his face slightly, deepening the kiss further.

Draco’s kiss was a lot longer than yours, as you had expected, as your lips continued to move against each other, moving rhythmically to the beat of each others quick pulses. You continued to deepen the kiss, trying to pull Draco closer to you with your hands, which was basically impossible at this point.

Your lips felt cold when he eventually pulled away to say, “Sorry, Princess, but we do have a Yule Ball to get to” before placing another quick peck onto your lips.

Meanwhile at the Yule Ball, all of your friends were huddled together in a small circle passing light conversation.

“I still can’t believe Draco bailed on me” Pansy complained for the fifth time that night, causing the rest of the group to erupt in groans.

“I’m sorry guys but I just don’t get it. Draco never misses parties” She paused before continuing, “But I guess it’s not a personal thing considering he didn’t come at all, right?”. Daphne sent Pansy a quick nod whilst Theo and Blaise sent each other a quick, knowing glance.

“And hey, at least I actually turned up after being rejected unlike Y/N” Pansy remarked.

“Hey Pansy.” Theo grinned, “You might wanna reevaluate that last statement”. Pansy's head snapped up to the top of the stairs, where you and Draco stood, hand in hand, grinning at each other with loving glances.

“I can’t believe it” Pansy sneered, “I’m the only person in the year who came to the Yule Ball alone”. She could feel a rage raise in her slowly, but it came to a grinding halt when she felt a hand slip into her own. She turned to see Daphne smiling shyly at her.

“Not completely alone.I’m here” Daphne said shyly, a faint blush covering her cheeks. Pansy paused for a while before a smile started to grow.

“Yes, yes you are” Pansy grinned, leading Daphne into the dance floor where you and Draco also began to dance.

“Does this mean we are dating now?” You questioned coyly, running your fingers through Draco’s hair.

“Not if you keep touching my hair” He laughed, pressing another peck onto your lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes” You purred, resting your head onto his chest as he spun the both of you around and wrapped his arms even further around you, pressing you further into his chest until you were nuzzled into him completely.

“Yes” Draco whispered, pressing his chin onto the top of your head and closing his eyes, silently thanking Merlin for Pansy and her temperamental personality.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco Malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Draco Malfoy x OC #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy imagine

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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pls scream about Leo a lil bit cause my love for that man is neverending and i live for you guys' blog,,, and ur comte love fuels me??? head empty except for those two pureblood clowns

HNGNGNG I hope that both you and everyone that reads my shenanigans knows how utterly understood I feel when I see anyone stan Comte, if not both of those idiot purebloods bc good lord...I live for two tired fossil men that just want DOMESTIC BLISS. Literally they have no brain cells beyond respect women and we love that for us, it’s spectacular!!

Under a cut bc I went off and is long:

That being said I’d be happy to yell abt Leo!! Where do I even begin, this man was the reason I got into Ikevamp in the first place, and I’ve read just about every single one of his events at this point. He just makes me so TENDER!!!!!! For whatever reason the first thing that came to mind was this one time he lies about being jealous and MC is lolol u a fool if you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. And he’s so fuckiNG SHOOK?????? It’s even funnier because she’s internally like [I’m not 100% sure but for a second there he almost looked mad...time to test this theory even if it’s just A GAME T H E O R Y] And he’s so fucking pikachu meme that shit sends me. I can’t handle the fact that he’s so used to people just assuming he’s fine, that he can handle himself. That he’s lived for so long without really anyone noticing at all. (Comte absolutely notices and will lightly roast him, but doesn’t really push him about it or wants to overstep). And so when MC just actively pays attention and is so gentle with him he’s just floored???

God I’m crying now, but I will just never forget the funeral scene in his fucking rt. This asshole, this absolute moron, straight up tries to come at us with “yOu GeT uSeD tO iT aFtEr HaLf A mIlLeNiUm, i’M nOt SaD”. Like are you serious. Come here and let me hold you before I throttle you. Absolute clown. He’s just always trying so hard to get by on his own and it breaks my heart. How long...how long has he lived just getting by, nursing his own wounds and dragging himself up all by himself. HE LEFT HOME AT LIKE 14 (whatever the fuCK SOME TOO YOUNG AGE) AND RAN STRAIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF PEOPLE THAT HATED HIM FOR HIS TALENT. HE REMEMBERS HIS MENTORS DESTROYING HIS UTENSILS WHILE TRYING TO ESCAPE PARENTS THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECTED ANY EXPRESSION OF LOVE OR COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY THAT HE CHERISHED SO DEEPLY. I DON’T NEED SLEEP I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY FUCKING HELL.

Like.........there’s just........I don’t know how to explain it, but I once saw it explained so well in a post. It was basically talking about Castlevania, and how in that show Dracula sees humanity’s folly and develops so much hatred he just goes straight to murder rage. And while in some ways I understand that, I understand even more deeply Trevor’s response to humanity’s fear and violence. He says that he knows they’re short-sighted, that maybe we all just don’t deserve saving...but that he’s going to do it anyway. Leonardo just so much gives me that energy of knowing there’s so much pain in the world, but all we can do is keep walking--keep trying, even if we have to claw our way forward. Because if you only see the awfulness in front of you, you forget the way that strangers make silly faces at babies to make them laugh on the train, how a friend will put everything down to race over to someone and comfort them with some ice cream--do anything they can to distract them from the hurt. How the sight of a child crying will prompt careful cooing from a stranger as to their bravery, an offering of cool water, the gentle placement of a bandaid. How a pair of teenagers will spot a lost child in milliseconds and help them seek out their parents protectively. There is so much wretchedness, but also so much beauty in it all, and the older I get the more I see myself wanting to believe in the latter. I want to be hopeful, and easily impressed, and full of love. To be bitter and jaded accomplishes nothing, and only becomes a worsening self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you seek negativity, the more you will find it; and worse, create it.

I also scream a little bit bc like. I’ve gone on and on about how Comte is very obviously in love with MC all the time, and sure that may be true. But...I really don’t think Leo is exempt from that either if I’m honest lmfao. Only because what does Leonardo do when it isn’t his route? He almost never shows up. Once in a while he might appear for a split second in a scene, but he almost never converses with MC beyond those short moments. While Comte is the one to pine openly, I’d wager Leo is the opposite. He pines in absolute silence, because he knows that if he gets any closer--he’s going to fall. He’s going to enjoy it too much, going to keep seeking out more before he can stop himself. And losing another person he loves...he just can’t do it anymore. In his first meeting story he talks about seeing MC’s eyes and feeling like he’d known them all his life, and even in his MS he speaks to just being completely fascinated by and enamored of her. She doesn’t hesitate, always does her best, meets people head-on and without much hesitation. After a lifetime of people that are probably just immediately interested in him for his talents, or always seeking out his company for the novelty, this is someone that doesn’t give a single fuck if he’s Leonardo da Vinci. Sure she’s aware, and sure she’s impressed to some extent, but her respect--her attraction and admiration--is something that has to be earned.

There’s something so refreshing about how their love was written. Sure it’s the whole fake marriage to a real relationship, but it’s also a kind of subtle enemies to lovers pulled off masterfully. MC is 100% minding her own business, just wants to do what she must in order to get home, tries to focus on her work to keep from thinking about how much she misses her old life. She doesn’t rely on anyone, doesn’t talk about how hard it is or how scary it is or how confusing. And even Leonardo forgets in his curiosity, is just chillin and also just trying to do the bare minimum to keep from getting too attached--figures he can admire her from a distance. And then he sees her staring at the hourglass. And suddenly, he can’t just watch her do that herself. Just wait for the hard times to pass, just sit with her own loneliness--that hollowing silence. There’s something so moving about it because he reaches out precisely because he knows that feeling to his fucking marrow, and literally just cannot watch somebody else do that to themselves. Sure he’s been dealing with it for three hundred years, BUT THIS GOOD BABIE CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. SHE WORKS HARD AND DESERVES NICE THINGS!!!!!!!! And so he drives her crazy as he races ahead of her, intercepting any attempt for her to preserve that silence and hide. She doesn’t see any pattern to it, and that’s just how he likes it--he doesn’t want her to worry about the how or why.

Like I fully remembering playing in Japanese and being like oh my fucking god this is hilarious, this man is just a wild fucker and I love this. I was enjoying myself, mostly laughing and shaking my head. But then it just gets so, so serious. I was having so much fun that I, like a fool, forgot the anime effect. If you’re having fun, it’s going to come crashing down without mercy soon enough. And it does. He helps a little girl without any hope play her violin again, and maybe I’m just too English major but I was fucking FLOORED when I realized I didn’t see that that was straight foreshadowing. That little girl without hope? That was MC (and by extension depending on how you play, us). Though the metaphor isn’t quite so easily mapped without a physical space, the connection is clear when you think about it. With his careful social awareness, he makes a place for MC to exist in the mansion so naturally--as though she was meant to be there from the start, crafts a positive impression of her presence with each of the residents. And he does it with zero expectation of anything in return; he’s just happy to see her not stressing herself out anymore or trying to do everything alone. MC doesn’t fall in love with him despite their differences, she falls in love with him because they are the same in a singular and all-encompassing way that matters; they both care about other people so deeply, to the point where they will forego any personal needs in order to make that person’s life easier. Whether it be muting their own hardship, or working to involve another person in a new space (or opening up to the point of self-destruction to keep a person from feeling alone), they go above and beyond what anybody asks of them--perhaps strong to the point of their own detriment, in some cases.

It’s why I always laugh when he says to Sebastian “That cara mia, she has a good heart.” Of course she does, Leonardo; it certainly takes one to know one.

And because I literally have no brain cells beyond being in fucking love with Leonardo THE LAKE SCENE IS AN AFFRONT TO MY DIGNITY AND SELF-CONTROL. HOW DARE YOU, SIGNORE. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME TO SIT THERE AND WATCH YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO ME AND NOT BAWL MY EYES OUT AND TRY TO KISS YOU ALL AT THE SAME TIME. SIGNORE “hAhA yOu’Re So SmAlL yOu LoOk LiKe YoU’rE DrOwNiNg In My CoAt.” I WOULD DROWN AND DIE HAPPY--BITCH I TELL YOU THAT.

Like. I can’t think of another route I’ve ever done where I spent a good amount of time like “lmfao this guy is so wild im gonna punch him” to just be in a whirlpool of my own tears, regretting my entire fucking LIFE days later. Like Leonardo’s cultural impact???? Fucking immeasurable, I wish every white man disaster I ever met had a hidden heart of gold in all of his boyish dumbassery, an ICONIC himbo of our time.

Also because I remembered it before posting and I am Dying^TM. The event where MC was a pureblood and he was human. That entire fucking event. I literally can’t think about it without screaming and crying. Her just so flustered at his reaction to her like “oh look, free real estate” as he plops her in his lap, absolutely no fear, treating her like a princess because of her noble title despite NO NECESSITY BEYOND PLAYFULNESS BUT ALSO STILL MEANING IT IN AN EARNEST WAY, being charming to no END just to see her laugh or look away shyly.

WHEN HE SAID. WHEN HE SAID “...Can’t leave you alone, or you might go off someplace I can’t follow.” I. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU STRIPPED DEVOTION DOWN TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS!!!!!! GAH HOW MC HERSELF SAYS “I would tell him the truth but...he’s much too generous for a human. I know he would offer his life without a moment’s hesitation.” How Leo describes the aftermath of her biting him: “Lucky for you, I’m a true gentleman, Unlike my principessa, who took me like a storm” HELLO??????? H E L L O ???????????????????????? ARE WE JUST GOING TO SLEEP ON THE FACT THAT HE LOST HIS ENTIRE SOUL WHEN SHE BIT HIM???? I--

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

(Also as much as I love him the cigarillos have got to go at some point, boy do you have any idea the shit secondhand smoke does good lordt)

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp comte #can you feel me going through 800 different emotions in the course of writing this #fucking hell #he absolutely kills me i love him so much #would do ANYTHING for him #if you listen v closely you can hear the soft sound of me grabbing tissues #god i was just rewatching some of his events and i just #THE SHEER WARMTH OF HIS PRESENCE HOW IT WASHES OVER YOU WHILE READING #IM SHAKING AND CRYING I LOVE HIM SO MUCH #SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#like leo is just one of those routes where its like 'my life was before and after this moment'#otome is honestly destroying my standards OTL #he just makes me feel So Much my coherence disappears #brain cells???? don't know her only Leo tiddy #in conclusion: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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